worst thing about me is that i genuinely believe that if i buy pretty things and spend money on makeup and clothes and have a perfect appearance it will make me normal and refusing to recognise my deep seated mental health issues that are actually causing my struggles in life
Title: No Distractions
Warning: 18+ smut, coarse language, alcohol consumption, and mentions of a toxic relationship.
Summary: A woman escaping her past finds herself in a double-booked Airbnb, unsure if she can trust the kind stranger she meets there.
Note: I won't elaborate on my absence from the fandom in this note, but after watching Barbarian, I absolutely HAD to write the scene we all wished for. This piece has no horror elements and no spoilers for the movie. So, even if you haven't watched it, you may still enjoy this smutty little one-shot I whipped together super quick. A like, comment and mostly, a reblog would really make my day. Come on, Bill fandom. I know you're still breathing!
The flight was one of the worst 3 hours of her life, and the last few weeks had already tested her limits. There was not one but two screaming children on board, her seatmate was a flatulent chatterer, and the frequent turbulence reminded her that she was suspended above the clouds, at nature's mercy.
But those weeks were behind her now. All that remained between her and a clean, warm bed was a keypad which clicked and blinked green after she punched in the 6-digit code.
The apartment was a chilly 66 degreesâmuch cooler than any place should be in the fall, but the space was larger than the photos on the booking app, so she forgave the frigid temperature and kicked off her shoes. She dropped her bags on the floor and flopped onto the plush, grey sofa. A laminated sheet on the table outlining the renter's rules, the wifi code and a few nearby restaurants hooked her interest just as her stomach rumbled.
Though a hot meal after bland, overpriced airline food sounded like heaven, the fluffy throw pillows and steam-cleaned cushions of the sofa beckoned her. She laid down and soon fell asleep to the sound of sweet, sweet nothing.
As she sank into a dream, the bedroom door opened, and a tall man stepped out into the hall. He entered the living room, first spotted the bags next to the sofa, froze, and looked around for other irregularities. The vibration from a phone startled him, and he peered over the back of the sofa and found a young woman very much asleep. Her mouth was open, a trail of drool seeping from her lips and onto the throw pillow. The phone rumbled and rumbled.
"Um... Hello? Miss? Uh, hey. Wake up."
The girl snorted but did not wake. He leaned over, tapped her on the shoulder once, and then stepped back to avoid flailing limbs. Her eyes rolled under the lids, and when she realized what was happening, she jolted upward with a yelp.
"Who the fuck are you?" She asked.
"Uh, I'm Keith. But um, I think I should be the one asking who you are and why you're in my Airbnb."
"What are you talking about? I'm renting this place."
"That's impossible."
"No, it's not impossible. Look," she said, grabbing her phone off the table and ignoring the several missed calls. As she fumbled for a confirmation email, she dismissed another call. Keith grimaced at the small print on the screen.
"I can't really read that without my glasses," said Keith. "But I believe you. There's obviously been some kind of mistake."
"No shit," she said.
Keith held his hands behind his back and went quiet. She deflated on the sofa with a groan.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "I've had a hellish few days, and it's just my luck something like this would happen."
"Let me call these idiots and see what we can do."
She stood and gathered her bags in a hurry. "No, no. I should go. I mean, you were here first. You have dibs."
Keith grabbed her shoulder, and she flinched. He withdrew his hand immediately and stepped away, palms open.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. But we should work this out. And, it's rather late," Keith pointed at the balcony doors and the blackness beyond the pane. "I can't put a lady out on the street. That would be terrible. Let me make the call, and maybe we can figure something out. Or at least get your money back."
"That will still leave me without a place to stay. So, I should probably find a hotel before it's too late."
"Please, I'd like to make this right. Let me at least call. You can take the bedroom if anything, and I'll sleep out here. Just for tonight."
She clutched her bags, eyes searching for anywhere to land except Keith.
"I swear I'm not a creep," he said.
"I don't know if you saying you're not a creep helps at all."
"You're right... Fuck, this is not good."
"Nope," she said.
As the awkward silence deepened, her phone vibrated in her hand.
"Uh, do you need to answer that?"
She swiped the caller away again and dropped the device in her pocket. "No."
"Just 'cause I noticed you were getting lots of calls as I came out here and found you. Not that I was out here for long! That'd be weird. I was just... Well, I wasn't sure if I should wake you, but then I thought, of course, I should wake her, and your phone was just ringing and ringing. Maybe someone was trying to get ahold of you for something important. I don't know. I'm totally rambling now, and you probably think I'm a psycho."
Despite his unforeseen presence, Keith was not a man she would classify as creepy. He had big, kind eyes and seemed concerned for her well-being.
But that's how serial killers find their prey, she thought. However, there was something about his demeanour that denounced any kind of predatory inclinations. He stood with a slight hunch, perhaps because she was significantly shorter than him, tripped over his words, and fidgeted as he spoke. But would she recognize a violent criminal with these disarming behaviours at the ready? She had watched too many documentaries about killers to absolve him of all suspicion.
"I don't think you're a psycho, but this is still a weird situation."
"Hold on," said Keith. "Let me grab my phone."
He left the living room, and she peered down the hallway, hoping he didn't come back with a gun. When he showed up with his phone in hand and nothing else. she sighed with relief. Keith had no pockets in his sweatpants to conceal a weapon, and he moved toward the balcony to peer outside as he called the apartment's owners.
"Voicemail," Keith sighed. "Says they're on vacation in Hawaii. Must be nice."
"Yeah, guess so. How convenient."
"Look, I have this place booked for the next week. I don't mind leaving for the night and giving you the space so you can at least rest up. Then tomorrow, we can figure something else out."
"That's not fair," she said. "Plus, if you were going to do anything, you still have the passcode."
"True, I guess. Shit. Well, my initial offer still stands. You can sleep in the bedroomâit's nice, and I barely even touched the bed, so it's not like... dirty, er anything. And um, I'll take the couch."
She giggled. "You're like seven feet tall, and that couch isn't even big enough for me to sleep comfortably."
"Oh, don't worry. I'm adaptable. I grew up in a huge family with limited space. I'm used to squeezing into tight places."
"I don't know, Keith."
"Barricade the door if you want. I promise on my dog's life that I won't do anything to harm you," he held out his phone to show her an image of himself and a golden retriever with its tongue lolling to one side. Keith looked elated in the photo with a wide, toothy grin. She set her bags down.
"The problem is, I booked this place for three days."
"I'll find somewhere else to stay tomorrow. You can have the place. Hell, you can have my whole booking if you want. Stay until the end of the week, on me."
"Then you waste your money," she pointed out.
"That's fine. I can get a credit. I'm sure I can work something out with the booking app. And money isn't a big deal anywayâI mean, it's all good."
She studied him, noting all of his prominent features in case she had to provide a physical description. He was well over six feet, with unruly brown hair, light green eyes, and a half-inch horizontal scar on his cheek. He had no tattoos or other discerning marks, but his strange eyes were enough to set him apart from anyone. Most of his features were remarkable in some way; full, deep pink lips, an upturned nose, a dimple on his chin that only showed when he spoke or smiled. There was no forgetting Keith's face.
"Everything about this is a bad idea, but strangely enough... I trust you. Although, maybe I'm too tired to judge the situation properly."
"You can take a photo of my ID and send it to someone you trust. Does anyone else know you're here? If not, you should give them the address."
"No, nobody knows I'm here, but I'll take you up on your offer."
Keith retrieved his wallet and pulled out his driver's license, library card, gym membership and every other piece of identification he had with his name on it. She chuckled at his rigour and handed him back the cards after she finished snapping shots.
"Your library card expired," she said.
"I guess I should get that renewed, huh?"
"Expired four years ago. You don't do a lot of reading anymore?"
"Oh, I read. I just use a Kindle now. I feel bad about it, though. Kinda miss going to the library every couple of weeks."
"Me too."
Keith presented her with a burrito shop loyalty card. "Take a picture of this one. It's got my phone number on it. That's traceable, right?"
A blush crept over her cheeks. There was still a nugget of worry sinking in her chest, but Keith seemed genuine, and his awkwardness buried her apprehension as they worked out the details of how the night would play out. Keith surrendered the bedroom and helped her move her bags while repeatedly promising there would be no funny business. She accepted, and once she retired behind the master bedroom door, she changed into pyjamas and fell asleep without a moment to decompress from the odd situation in which she had found herself.
The next morning, she dressed and made her way into the kitchen, where Keith was busy flipping bacon and tending a pan of scrambled eggs. When he noticed her, his concentrated face slackened, and he waved with the greasy spatula.
"Morning. I wasn't sure if you were a coffee or a tea person, so I made both."
There was a full French press and a steaming teapot on the table beside a bowl of sliced oranges. She sat down in the warm beam of light shifting in from the window and pretended not to watch the man in the kitchen cooking and whistling like nothing about their encounter was peculiar. He brought her eggs, bacon and toast, then sat across from her, poured himself coffee and dug into his food. She picked up her fork and analyzed the meal before her.
He could poison me. He could drug me and...
"Not hungry?" Keith said.
"Very. It's just..."
"I promise I didn't lace your food with cyanide or anything. Wanna switch plates?"
She laughed as he presented his already half-eaten portions, and he shrugged. "Sorry, I guess I didn't think about how this could be risky."
"Sorry, Keith. I don't want to suspect every little thing could be a trap. It's all the true crime documentaries. You never know."
"I get it. Hey, you don't have to eat. I promise I won't be offended."
She prodded a slice of bacon, decided it was too tempting to ignore any longer, and took a bite. Keith smiled around a mouthful of buttered toast.
"So, what are your plans for the day?" He asked.
"Well, I'm kind of on vacation."
"Kind of?"
"It's a long story."
Keith looked at his watch. "I have time. I have to head out in about an hour for a meeting."
"I just needed to get away, which is why I booked this place for a few days."
"Wouldn't have something to do with the person whose calls you've been dodging?"
She picked at her nails under the table and sighed. "It does."
"It's okay. You don't have to tell me. You have that air of a person on the run from something."
"I do?"
"You have an awful lot of stuff for someone only staying for a few days. I know ladies like to travel heavily, but that suitcase is massive. Also, the phone calls."
"It's that obvious?"
"I can piece it together. And I don't mean to pry, but there's a tan line on your ring finger."
"Okay, detective."
"Sorry. Am I wrong?"
"If only you were."
"Hey," Keith reached across the table and touched her wrist for a second. "It's okay. I'm a safe person to talk to. Or you can tell me to shut the hell up, and I will."
"It's fine. I just didn't think it was so obvious."
"Call me over-observant."
"Well, thanks for being so nice and letting me stay the night. I guess we should discuss what the next move is?"
Keith gulped down his coffee and took his empty plate to the kitchen sink. "How about later? I'm going to hop in the shower and go to my meeting. I'm sure you'd love some time to yourself."
"Sure, I guess."
"Just promise me one thing," Keith said. "You won't just up and leave while I'm gone. Okay?"
"All right."
"Promise?"
"Sure," she laughed.
"Great. So, I'll see you later then?"
"I guess you will."
Keith nodded, and his chin dimple flashed with his smile.
They both made good on their promises; Keith returned after work with four different types of corked wine, and she didn't vacate the apartment. He came back with abundant energy, striding all over the apartment, setting the bottles on the table, and whipping open the curtains. She watched him fluff the couch pillows, retrieve wine goblets and rattle on about how busy the day had been.
"You hungry? Maybe we should order in for dinner. Also, I don't know what wine you prefer, so I bought red, white, rosĂŠ and pinot noir. Oh, shit. Are you a chardonnay girl? Shit, I should have gotten some while I was at the storeâ"
"Keith! It's fine. I don't really drink wine anyway."
He smacked his forehead with a groan. "God, I'm such an idiot. I should have called you before assuming. Wait, I don't even have your phone number. Wow, I'm dropping the ball all kinds of ways."
"I thought we were going to talk about our, um... Temporary living situation?"
"Yeah, we will. I just figured it'd be more pleasant to do so over dinner."
"How about you sit down? Might make talking a little easier."
"Yeah, sure. You're right."
She joined Keith on the sofa, and the proximity made her feel terrible for having made him sleep there the previous night. Guilt crept over her, and she felt like an intruder all over again. Keith assured her that her presence was welcome and offered to buy dinner despite her many attempts at convincing him otherwise. Soon, they were eating Thai food, the subject of one of them leaving the apartment long since forgotten under flowing conversation and laughter. Keith popped open the red wine, and she decided to take a small pour in the heat of the moment.
His charm wore her down throughout the evening, and she decided she wanted neither of them to leave the apartment. Keith returned the sentiment, and they agreed on one more night of him on the sofa and her in the bedroom.
At ten o'clock, after they had showered and mostly sobered up from splitting a whole bottle of wine, she tiptoed into the living room, but Keith was not in sight. She circled the sofa and found him sitting cross-legged on the floor, hands relaxed in his lap, eyes closed, wearing only sweatpants.
"Uh, whatcha doing?"
Ten silent seconds passed before Keith opened one eye. "I'm meditating. You should join me."
"Really?"
"Yes. Come."
She sat across from Keith and mimicked his position. "So, what does this help with?"
Keith drew a long breath through his nose without opening his eyes and expelled it steadily. "Mindfulness. Calmness. Decluttering the brain."
"Okay, what do I do?"
"Close your eyes," he said.
"Done."
"Now, think of nothing."
She nodded, unsure of how to stop thinking. At first, she wondered how silly they must have looked sitting on the floor with their eyes closed, then wondered if this was part of Keith's nightly routine and chuckled at the thought of the man sitting in silence for extended periods. He hushed her, and she bit down on her lip to keep her reactions under control.
"Can I be honest?" She asked. "I don't know how to stop thinking."
"Talking doesn't help. And it's not that you must stop thinking; it's about trying to find your inner quiet. Turning off the voices in your head that feed you lies throughout the day. Those who say you're not good enough, not smart enough, or worthy of love or respect. Purge the junk thoughts. Dismiss the lies you tell yourself. They aren't coping mechanisms, just trash. And breathe deeply through your nose."
She took in a long breath.
"Don't keep it in. Release it. Slow and steady."
Keith grabbed her hands and arranged them palms up on her knees. He held them there and continued his long inhalations until her breaths fell in sync. Her nose made a whistling sound, and they both giggled.
"Clean out the worries. They don't serve you. Recognize the control you have of your life and decisions. You make your own happiness. Concentrate. Breathe. Don't let the pretty girl distract you."
Her eyes popped open while Keith's remained closed. His mouth twitched. He squeezed her hands, urging her to shut her eyes again.
"No distractions."
"Keith."
"No. Distractions."
She had had enough and flipped their hands to pull him closer. The wine still lingered in her blood, and the absurdity of the situation bolstered her bravery enough to kiss him. He smiled against her mouth, released her hands and shuffled his fingers through her hair, clutching her head at the right angle for him to take over when her nerve wavered.
"I said. No. Distractions." Keith kissed her between words, his own claim unconvincing. Her lips were as soft as he imagined, and his chest fluttered. Fated they were to end up like this, he thought to himself. From the moment he saw her asleep on the sofa, he had battled urges to flirt with her. Now, she had come to him, and the room grew hot.
Keith pulled her until the only thing she could do was climb over and settle in his lap with her legs wrapped around him.
She pulled away in mid-kiss, expecting him to flash his silly grin, but his eyes had grown heavy, and his mouth sought hers again. The weight of his desire had squashed all traces of giddiness. They kissed until she felt a twinge between their clothed groins. Finally, Keith looked down, breathless.
"I want to... You know. But I don't want you to feel obligated."
"I don't."
"Like you don't feel obligated or don't want to?"
"I want to, silly."
"Okay," Keith nodded. "Good."
She shimmied off of him, and he climbed onto the sofa backwards to not break eye contact. Once settled, she shifted between his knees and ran her hand over his hardness until he bristled with arousal and his sweatpants did little to conceal him. He blushed as she tugged his waistband and helped her remove the article. He sat naked, legs splayed, wonderment wide in his eyes. There were dozens of things he wanted to say, but before he summoned the courage to speak, she grasped his length, stood it up and licked him from base to tip, stifling all but a long moan. She did this a couple more times, then surrounded the head with her lips.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," said Keith.
She kissed his thigh, his groin, the drop of precum collecting at the tip of his cock, and giggled. "You're beautiful."
He grinned sheepishly and watched with an open jaw as she slathered his length with saliva and made him disappear down her throat a few times. When she came up for air, she pressed her lips to his frenulum and hummed.
"Your cock matches you perfectly. So long and pretty."
"Come on," Keith chuckled, cheeks pink. "I'm not pretty."
"Okay, you're gorgeous then."
"You are."
"And you're so nice. Please tell me nobody out there thinks they're dating you."
"Nobody thinks that. I'm really and truly single. Why else would I be letting youâoh... Oh, wow."
She clouded his thoughts again with one hand surrounding his shaft and the other massaging his balls while she circled her tongue around and around the head.
"For the record, I wasn't being nice hoping to seduce you," Keith said.
"No, you're just very polite, aren't you?"
"Of course."
"Are you gonna come soon?"
"Hell no," Keith sat up and urged her to stand. She shed her clothes, took his hand and climbed over his lap again, knees sinking into the plush cushions. "Oh, yes. Fuck me, pretty girl."
He pressed into her slowly, and she gasped from the sudden fullness. Clinging together, he rocked his hips forward once, letting her get used to the sensation before he settled back, marvelling at the naked body perched atop his. Keith let her find a rhythm, having no complaints about how she wished to move. He gorged on her body and whimpered as she swivelled her hips.
"You look so good riding me."
She accepted the compliment and pressed her arms against her breasts, squeezing them together until he latched onto a nipple. He gripped her hips, stroked down her back and gave her a light spank. When he drew back, his teeth had his bottom lip in a violent hold. She noticed the dimple on his chin, the scar on his cheek, and the eerie green eyes glazed over with lust. Unforgettable features contorted in pleasure, and she felt wanted for the first time in too long.
Keith placed her on all fours and gave a few gentle strokes before he increased his pace. He didn't want her to feel as though he was jabbing her, but a wave of fierce desire spurred him, and he pulled her in to meet his thrusts every time until she gasped.
"Does that hurt, baby?"
"No, it feels amazing."
"Okay, just let me know if I'm doing it too hard."
"You can go harder."
Keith scoffed. "Really? You want it harder?"
"I like it a little rough."
"Wouldn't wanna hurt you, gorgeous."
She twisted around and nodded. "Fuck me real good, pretty boy."
His cock twitched as she turned away and watched their reflection in the balcony window. The mirrored show didn't last long, for Keith flipped her and pressed down with all his weight. His stubble tickled while he kissed and nuzzled her neck and found her opening again. He sank in with a sigh. The lull was short-lived, and soon, he pounded into her with most of his strength. Though she had requested it, he hadn't the heart to make her wince, but what he did give her made the most beautiful sounds leave her lips, and he had to kiss her again.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come soon. I don't wanna make a mess."
"Come inside me," she said.
"You sure?"
"Yes, Keith."
He locked his elbows and closed his eyes, focusing on the tightness surrounding him, the slick noises, the little mewls and whimpers she made. When he looked down at her breasts bouncing from his motions, he groaned and pulled air through his teeth. She was so beautiful the way she looked helpless yet delighted to have him inside her.
"M'gonna come so hard inside that cute little pussy, baby. You ready?"
She nodded, biting her lip.
"Yeah, you like it when strange men fill you full of cum? You like that shit?"
"I love it," she moaned.
"Oh, that's so nasty. Letting someone you don't even know blow inside your slit. Fuck, I don't think I can take it anymore."
True to his word, Keith's muscles flexed, and a shuddering orgasm ripped through his body, spasming in his legs and dripping out of him as he groaned and his eyes rolled. There was no time between him pulling out and forcing her back onto her stomach. He lifted her hips and watched the cum dripping from her hole, making glistening streaks down her thighs. He lapped her clit with a curled tongue as she stuffed her face into the cushion to muffle her moans.
"Now it's your turn to come for me," his breath was hot on her backside, convincing. "I'll lick your pussy until I have you coming on my face."
Keith rubbed his tongue back and forth against her clit while he clutched her open and let the warm fluid flow. What he gathered in his mouth he spat back on her. He growled and nipped her in several places, replacing his tongue with his fingers so he could catch his breath and rearrange her yet again.
On her back, legs spread, Keith gorged on her pussy until her thighs shook, and he had to cover her mouth to ensure the neighbours didn't hear. He nodded, tongue flickering, eyes on her face.
"Come for me. Come on my tongue, baby. Can you do that for me?"
Her response came muffled under his palm, but she nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. He had found the sweet spot, the exact motion needed to make her orgasm, and when she did, her pelvis jostled, and she tried to pull away. But Keith pinned her and didn't stop until she climaxed and came up to another.
"Yeah, come on my face again. Keep coming for me, pretty girl. I want it all."
She lay on the couch, ears ringing and heart thumping as she gasped for breath. By the time Keith released her, she had lost count of how many times the unbearable wave of pleasure had come and gone. Keith offered his hand, and she took it, unsure of what might happen next. He led her to the washroom and motioned her to enter.
"Go pee, and then meet me in the bedroom."
"I... can't keep going."
Keith kissed her on the cheek, chuckling. "I know, sweet thing. I'm not gonna fuck you anymore. It's time for bed. But you should pee first. It's important."
"Oh," she said dazedly. "Right."
She did as suggested and met Keith in the bedroom, where he was already in his boxers and under the covers. He drew back the corner of the duvet and patted the mattress. Once under the covers, they snuggled up close, their noses an inch apart. He kissed her forehead and sighed.
"I just wanted to say... I don't normally do this kind of thing. It goes against what I believe in," said Keith.
"What do you mean? Were you saving yourself for marriage?"
"No, silly. I'm not really a one-night stand person. I don't usually have sex with girls I just met. So, this is a bit strange for me."
"Are you saying you want to do it again?"
"It's not that simple. Of course, I'd like to do it again. I just hope this wasn't a one-off thing for you. I mean, if it is, I'll respect that, but... I don't know. I like you, and when this week is over, I'd like to keep seeing you."
"My life is very complicated at the moment," she admitted. "I want to see you againâI mean keep seeing youâit's just that I'll be going through some big changes."
"That's fine. I'll be here for you."
"Thank you," she whispered.
Keith kissed her and tucked her head under his chin. She pressed her face into his chest and tried not to think about how odd it was to feel this way about someone she had just met. But there was something special about Keith. He was warm and welcoming, and she needed warmth now more than ever.
Description- Based in a college setting you donât intend to be the product of an experiment. According to a ridiculous online belief you begin to wear red nail polish in hopes that your older classmate will notice you. If he can drive you to such laughable lengths, what else can he make you do?
A/N: This may or may not contain some dark themes 18+!! -Dark!Bill- so just be prepared for that. Iâm not entirely certain what this is, but in honour of his recent movie release, Barbarian (2022), I wanted to write for him. Enjoy mâ loves.
â
It wasnât supposed to end up this way, not at all, but it did. Iâd find myself a fiend for his scent, my fingers would twitch as my eyes buried into his face, longing to just touch him at least once. I donât know what makes him so desirable- was it his messy hair, the smell of cigarette smoke mixed with the minty scent of his chewing gum, or maybe it was the way his ring clad fingers would effortlessly twirl a pen when he would sit bored during lectures.
Whatever it was, I was hooked. Caught in a net made of barbed wire. The more I pull, wriggle and try to get free the more it hurts. The deeper he gets beneath my skin.
The saddest part of all of this is that he doesnât even know who I am. He doesnât see me the way that I see him.
-
I paint my nails every now and again, more for myself rather than anyone else.. but this time it is different. A calculated move in the chess game that is my imaginationâŚ
According to some.. research.. red nail polish acts as a sort of magnetic pulse that attracts whoever you desire towards you- or at least I think thatâs what it does, I only read up on it once and Iâll take whatever I can get.
I donât know what I expected to happen but I go about college life disappointed. The only good thing about this crisp fall morning is the white marshmallows that are floating in my hot chocolate.
Once given our 20 minute midmorning break Chrissy and I sit outside on the campus steps that lead up to the building entrance, Chrissy is on a sex crazed rant about one of her new lecturers, âI swear to god, Y/N, this fucking guy could stick a basketball up my asshole and Iâd say thank you,â I let loose an uncontrollable laugh.
âThatâs crazy, Chris! You canât just say that stuff about somebody,â I scold her lightly, only because I do get similar intrusive thoughts although I do a better job at keeping mine hidden, âWhat does he even look like?â I ask simply.
Words start to leave Chrissyâs mouth but I have long stopped paying any attention. A familiar scent floats past us as he descends the steps. Heâs wearing that black coat I absolutely adore on him, and a lit cigarette slumps from his perfectly plump lips. Fuck. I press my thighs together in a pathetic attempt at relieving some of the tension between my thighs. Even though it is cold out I opted for a skirt today. Itâs a warm burnt orange colour, I paired it with a cream sweater of mine and some brown ankle boots- thank goodness I also slid on some black stockings because the temperature is only getting lower as days continue.
âHello? Earth to Y/N?â Chrissy waves a hand in my face, âAre you even listening?â She laughs and I blink my eyes together tightly as I shift my gaze back to her, slightly confused, âWhatever, your loss. He is totally hot, better than that man whore who never notices you.â
My jaw hangs loose, a lazy smile tugs on the corners of my lips, âI- I-â I nudge her with my elbow, âThat is so not true..â My voice dampens, the lightness of the conversation extinguishing.
âWhich part?â She stands up from the steps and proceeds to hike her skinny jeans further up her ass, if that were even possible.
âAll of it?â I say with hesitance and Chrissy laughs before swaying her way up the steps.
âWhatever you say. See you at lunch.â
I wave her goodbye and turn my head back to look out towards the landscape around me. People are chatting with their social groups, some are trying to squeeze in a quick snack whilst others indulge in cigarette smoke and laughter.
I allow my eyes to wander freely over all of their faces, their bodies and their human characteristics- and then, as expected, my eyes land on him⌠but this time he is looking back.
It doesnât take me long to divert my eyes away, within seconds I am twirling my thumb and examining the fresh paint job that my nails got yesterday afternoon. The nail tech did a good job, but she clipped my cuticle by accident.
A braveness latches itself onto my eyeballs, like strings yanking on a puppet I decide to look up again- big mistake. He is still looking- not just looking but staring.
I shift in my spot on the concrete, coiling my legs together thinking that there is a possibility that he can see up my skirt. The sensible part of my brain wants to fear that possibility, but the larger part of me hopes that he can.. I did pick out a nice pair of panties today.
I keep my eyes trained on him this time, as if challenging him to a face off. I contemplate on scrunching my eyebrows together to make it seem like I am uncomfortable and uninterested but I donât, instead I look back in awe as his lips nip up into a sexy grin. He knows what he does to me, doesnât he?
Without thinking I shrug my shoulders, a widely known way of saying âWhat?â Without actually saying it. He takes a long drag from his cig, his lips pursing perfectly around the end of the cancer stick, he holds the smoke lodged in his lungs for a moment before he exhales it out into the frosty air. He shrugs his shoulders back at me, his smirk has vacated the area and I feel uneasy now.
He flicks whatever remains of the cigarette onto the ground in front of him, not bothering to stomp it out before he is casually and cooly walking toward me.
In a moment of frantic panic I get up from my spot so fast I nearly tumble, grab my books and bolt for the top of the stairs, leaving Bill behind.
Iâm surprised I didnât collapse considering how numb my legs were after being outside for so long.
We all follow one another like sheep back into the classroom, as if we are all huddling for warmth.
âSettle down, settle down.â Frank, the lecturer, demands loudly.
It takes a moment but we all fall silent. I rub my hands together quickly, desperate for some sort of heat. Anything to make me feel like I am not an ice cube.
I look across from my usual spot in the room and my heart jumps inside of my chest, Bill isnât in his seat. Without causing any sort of disruption or attracting any unwanted attention I slowly examine the room, looking for my classmate that I canât seem to stop masturbating too-
I knew I could sense some sort of eyes on me, but I just couldnât pinpoint who it was, until I turn to look over my right shoulder and come to realise that Bill has deliberately perched down comfortably in the seat directly behind mine, which usually belongs to a student call Mi-Mi.
I whip my head around so fast that my hair flicks to fall over my right shoulder, covering my cheeks as the blood rushes to them.
My body shudders as I feel a sudden warmth on the back of me neck, a soft breathing, âWhat is it? Did I startle you, little lamb?â Billâs lips brush the shell of my ear as he discreetly whispers the words to me, his voice is taunting and seductive. I slowly shake my head, too in shock to answer.
He picks up a piece of my hair, softly twirling it in his fingers, âYouâre so cute,â The words come out as a satisfied hum, âNice nails, by the way.â He tugs the strands of hair subtly and I yelp silently, my hand flies up to smooth the hair and comfort my scalp. I glare at him without actually turning my head.
I shock myself with the sudden realisation that this is actually turning me on. For a moment I sit there, glued to my seat and totally zoned out as I contemplate the idea that this could just be a dream.
I look across the large class space and focus on the clock on the wall. Itâs 1:30pm. I can read the time, this definitely isnât a dream.
âFuck,â My voice is a squeak mixed with a whisper as I harshly rub my temples. Iâm too tired for this right now, my brain canât keep up with what has just happened, never mind whatever shit Frank is spewing.
I stand from my seat and grab my bag, excusing myself to the bathroom. I havenât decided yet if I am just going to head home or not but once I splash my face with some water and take a hard look in the mirror then I will decide.
I enter the rest room, the noise of my sighs fill the space and bounce off of the walls, as if I am screaming back at myself. I wanted him to notice me, but now Iâm anxious that he doesnât like what he sees.
I splash my face with some freezing cold water, droplets stick to my eyelashes. They darken with the wetness, âGet yourself together.â
I stare at myself for a moment too long. Am I average? Holy shit, Iâm fucking average. The literal definition of basic.
âI want to scream.â
It was meant to be a silent thought, but the words slip out.
âI can help with that,â A deep voice booms from the bathroom stalls, the sound ricochets off of every surface and I nearly shit my pants.
âOh my fucking god!â I dramatically grab at my chest.
âThatâs what youâll be screaming,â Bill smirks as he takes some slow but long strides toward me, âHow is it that youâve just now clocked that I notice you, Y/N?â He looks down at me, his eyes are dark.
âBeen watching you for a while,â He brings up his hand to gently graze my cheek and almost instinctively I feel a strong urge to lean into his touch, âSo fuckinâ pretty.â
He explores my face with such anticipation that I nearly buckle at the knees, âWhat? You donât like me anymore?â He pouts out his bottom lip tauntingly before he grabs a firm hold of my jaw, bringing me closer to him, âAfter all the times I caught you staring at me, like the little creep that you are.â
Bill laughs at me, right in my fucking face. And I let him, âYouâre pathetic,â His words should hurt but they donât, âWanna be my pathetic little girl, hmm?â He nods his head, urging me to answer him. He taps a finger on my lips and all I can seem to do is stare up at him in total mesmerisation. He has such beautiful eyes.
âCâmon, pretty girl,â he squeezes both of my cheeks with his thumb and fingers, âNeed to hear you speak.â
Pretty girl. The name runs laps around my mind.
âIâm a⌠pretty girl?â For the first time since I entered the bathroom I feel a small smile find my lips. Bill furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
âOf course you are,â He takes a step away from me and I whimper at the distance. I want him close, âWho told you that you arenât?â He seems serious now as he searches my face for answers.
âI- I-â
âYou did?â He interrupts and I pause. Yeah.. I did.
I nod. Bill clicks his tongue and shakes his head, âWeâll have to fix that, wonât we?â Now itâs my turn to be confused.
âI have a few ideas. You wanna try emâ out?â His voice is a purr and at first I am hesitant. He takes a hold of both of my shoulders, flipping me around quickly to face the bathroom mirrors. I already hate this. Not the situation necessarily, but looking at myself. I hate that.
My gaze hits the floor and my head bows, but it doesnât take long for Bill to grab my face and bring my attention back to us both in the reflective surface, âDid I say you could look away?â His voice is a growl and I shake my head, but it doesnât do much as Bill holds me tightly in place.
âLook at you,â His eyes travel, âSo angelic, so perfectâŚâ Slowly his large hands trail down the sides of my body, taking there sweet time to feel every inch from my waist down to my hips.
âAm I dreaming?â The question is a whisper but Bill hears me loud of clear.
He traces his finger tips beneath the hem of my skirt, smoothing out the material and grazing my thighs, âDefinitely not, Sweetheart.â
I gulp thickly, my hands feel as though they are shaking and my mind is spinning so fast that this all seems hazy, âIf you want me to stop, tell me.â His voice is a purr and I shake my head.
âNo, please..â I basically cough the words out, âDonât stop.â I can feel the smirk begin to stretch across Billâs face. Iâm so lost in a trance that I forget that we are actually stood in front of a mirror.
Bill walks me over to the sink, pinching the back of my neck he forces my face close to the mirror. Instinctively my hands shoot out to grab the porcelain sink to steady my body.
âDonât even think about looking away,â His voice is a growl, a warning, âIf you do, Iâll stop. Got it?â He grabs my hair this time, tangling his fingers securely at the root, he yanks my head back so that my face is angled more in the light as he makes eye contact with me from behind.
I nod.
He pauses for a long moment, his eyes search my face, âI donât think I have ever seen anyone as beautiful as you.â His stare is intense and his tone is menacing⌠but his words are sweet and meaningful.
His free hand comes to grip my throat and before I know it my face is thrown back towards the mirror, âYou ever had your sweet little cunt fucked before, love?â
His touch appears between my inner thighs and I almost jump, âBetter yet,â He inches his hand upwards, his lips closing in on my neck, âHave you ever had your pussy licked?â I shiver at his words, âBet you taste so fucking good.â
I whisper softly at his words, the anticipation is killing me, âPlease, Ah!â His hand cups my head and my thighs press together.
âSo cute,â There is a moment of stillness before my stockings are ripped from my legs along with my panties. I look down for a second, shocked, but Bill isnât having any of it. He smacks his palm firmly down onto my ass, âEyes up, princess.â
I look away and thatâs when I feel my skirt get hiked up around my waist. Bill hums in approval as he dips his fingers into my soaking wet cunt.
He is kneeling behind my now and I can feel my knees becoming weak. He grips my hips, pulling them back to expose my slit to him. He then flashes me a smirk through the mirror before his tongue is being flexed and shoved into my aching hole.
âFuck!â I bite my lip so hard it nearly breaks the skin. My eyes flicker to the bathroom door and thatâs when my heartbeat spikes.
âWhat if someone comes in?â My voice is a breathy pant as Bill continues to lap circles around my clit with his tongue.
âLet the pervs watch.â
âBill!â My voice has a scolding property to it, but the punch doesnât land and Bill laughs, smacking my ass playfully.
âOh yeah, say my name again, baby.â He licks faster with more demand and my wrists begin to hurt with the intensity that I am grabbing the sink with. But the pleasure outweighs the pain.
âI think Iâm about to-â my eyes squeeze shut and just as I am about to tip over the edge Bill comes to an abrupt stop. A stillness falls over the bathroom.
I pour at him through the mirror, âFix your face, I want you to cum around my cock,â his eyes flicker with darkness, âThink you can handle that, sweet girl?â
I nod. He smacks my ass- hard.
I yelp, âYes! Yes, I can handle that!â The words leave my throat in a strained yelp but it doesnât stop the dampness between my legs.
It doesnât take long for Billâs pants and boxer briefs to pool around his thighs, his thick cock coming to glide up and down my slick slit at a teasingly slow pace, âMmm,â He hums happily, âFeel so good already, so wet.â
I feel my breathing start to eradicate, my heart is beating like crazy- I swear I can hear it in my ears, âBill, please hurry,â I pant, âBefore someone walks in.â My eyes come to focus on the bathroom door but Bill simply shakes his head.
âYou worry too much.â He punctuates the word âmuchâ by a firm thrust of his hips as he snaps deep inside of me. I gasp, my hand flies up to clasp tightly over my mouth. He is so thick⌠so deep inside.
âFeel good, baby?â He purrs, his hips move with more intention, more power, âNice and deep, hmm?â He leans back, his head tilted down as he watches himself slip and and out of my pussy.
âSo good,â I have to force my moans to remain quiet, but it becomes quite the challenge when Bill gets restless and messy.
He presses his chest against my back, linking his arm around my waist he shoves his hand in between my thighs, flicking and circling my clit mercilessly.
âLet me fuckinâ hear ya.â His low voice rattles my ears and I feel my legs begin to shake, luckily Bill is strong enough to keep me upright and steady.
âWanna face you,â My words come out choked as I try to swallow the saliva that has pooled in my mouth. My eyes roll back slightly into my head and Billâs movements still, âPlease.â I add quickly.
He flips me around, both of his hands come to grip my hips tighter than ever, I know that there will be bruises all over them once this is over..
I donât want it to be over.
I shakily bring my hands to his shoulders where I squeeze the firm area tightly, admiring just how muscular his frame is. I canât believe I am this close to him, nevermind him fucking me.
My pussy starts to pulse around his length and Bill wastes no time in getting started again. His large palms smoothe up and down my sides and I marvel at his beauty, âYouâre so pretty,â I donât mean for the words to slip out but they do and Bill welcomes them.
âAwh, sweetheart,â His thumb traces my bottom lip before it slips inside of my mouth to rest on my tongue, âYouâre the prettiest.â His lips peck my forehead but the sweet gesture doesnât last long as he thrusts his long thick shaft deep inside of me.
His thumb muffles my pleasure filled scream but not much. Seeing Bills face, every small twitch and move, watching as his teeth gnaw at his bottom lip and how his eyes occasionally flutter closed is enough to send me spiralling and tipping over the edge.
âThatâs it,â Bill praises in a soft tone, âGood girl, cum all over me,â His thumb massages my tongue and I feel drool pool at the corners of my lips, âSuch a fuckinâ sweet little thing.â
Billâs thrusts get sloppy for a moment but it only takes mere seconds for him to be hitting that spot inside of me..
Over⌠and over⌠and overâŚ
My entire body begins to shake, tears well in my eyes and I feel my lips purse around Billâs thumb, sucking greedily on the limb as some sort of leverage to stop myself from blacking out.
Billâs final thrusts suddenly stop and thatâs when I regain my vision. I hadnât noticed that I had blacked out.
There is a sweet smile on Billâs pink lips and his fingers hold my jaw firmly as his intense eyes gaze into mine, âThis was fun⌠letâs do it again some time?â He pulls up the zipper on his pants and I grab hold of the sink beneath my ass to stop myself from falling on the floor.
My perfectly manicured finger tips brush my swollen lips and silently I nod my head, trying to find my way through my hazy, dreamlike thoughts.
Bill winks, âMeet you back in there, princess.â And just like that, I am alone again.
Description: 1961. Joanie is a dreamer. She dreams of Hollywood, fashion and handsome men. Her favorite is the actor Billy SkarsgĂĽrd. When she works as a volunteer at the hospital she meets him in an unexpected way and comes closer to him than she thought was possible.
Characters: AU Bill SkarsgĂĽrd, here called Billy. He's inspired by real life Bill but also the character Clark Olofsson in the Netflix series Clark.
Setting: This story is set in the 60s L.A and a smaller town close to L.A.
Warnings: 18+, historical preferences, mental health problems, mental illness, abuse, drugs, religious themes, sexual themes.
The darkness of the movie theater was like a second home to me and I only left when I was forced to. It started with me and my father going to the cinema when my mom traveled away to help my older sister through her pregnancy. My dad and I didn't have so much to talk about so sitting in silence in a movie theater was perfect. We started out watching classics like The Wizard of Oz and Snow White but with time we started to watch the newest dramas and even some adventure movies. When My mom's travels to my sister became less and less my father's interest in the movies decreased but I was stuck. I couldn't just stop because I lived as much in the movies as I did in real life. When my father chose to do more important things than be with me I continued to go to the theater. My mother wasn't happy that I went by myself but after I graduated from high school I had time to go to the early showings and choose the darkness instead of the light of day. After I had celebrated my eighteenth birthday I could start watching all the movies I had just dreamt about and it was then I found him, Billy. Billy never played the good guy, he wasn't that dreamy perfect date Audrey Hepburn chose to kiss, Billy played the bad guy. In horror movies he played the murderer and in thrillers he was the rich guy you shouldn't trust. My fascination for him maybe sounded odd but right in that moment Billy was one of the more interesting actors and many girls dreamt about kissing his full lips. He was still so young, in his mid 20s, but already with a mysticism and poise as a man. But there was little information about him, probably because of his Swedish background and I wasn't even really sure how old he was and the tabloids seem to have the same problem. Billy was a mystery but became an even bigger mystery for me after I saw him on the psychiatric ward. Maybe it should have scared me seeing him there and having the cops all over him. He must have done something really bad for the police to treat him like that. Maybe he was a murderer just like the characters he played?Â
When I got home in the early morning after my shift at the hospital I took out the shoebox under my bed and looked through all the articles about celebrities I've saved. Even if Billy was my absolute favorite there weren't many with him. He wasn't the biggest name in cinema but it also seemed like he didn't want to share much about himself and on several questions he would answer "no comment". I had always seen that as proof of his star qualities but had now realized Billy probably just had things he wanted to stay in the shadows.Â
I wondered if I would see him again and when I slipped into bed with my curler in my bang and long sleeved nightgown I fantasized about meeting him again and how it all was a misunderstanding I could solve and as a thank you he would kiss me deeply like he kissed girls in the movies. I blushed to myself when I thought about his hand under my blouse but dragged a hand over my chest to feel how it might feel to let a boy that close.Â
My mother could never learn to let me sleep in after a night shift and woke me up at nine a clock, after just three hours of sleep.Â
"You can't sleep away the whole day. Do you want scramble eggs for breakfast?" She asked after she had dragged me out of bed and then she began to make my bed. I whined loudly and thought about my weird dream about Billy SkarsgĂĽrd. That he was a patient in the psychiatric ward. I stood tiredly in the middle of the floor while my mother laid out a dress for me on the bed as if I were a kid. She had chosen the yellow one I hated because it was much longer than my other dresses and I didn't even show collarbones wearing it. It was a dress for a high school girl, not a grown woman like me.Â
While putting on the dress and doing my hair in a high ponytail I thought back to the dream and realized it actually wasn't a dream. The odd experience had actually happened. Earlier it had felt like a pain to go back to the hospital with all the jealous girls and grumpy doctor's but now I looked forward to it and started to plan how I would be able to go back to the psychiatric ward. Maybe I was just as insane as the patients there but I just thought about Billy's smile towards me and his broad back clad in black leather.Â
This could be an adventure of a lifetime. Just like in the movies.Â
ĂĂĂ
The reception room at the psychiatric ward looked the same as the night before, just as empty and silent but this time there was a younger woman sitting at the desk. Also she read, but a novel this time. It looked like something cheap and romantic, a book my mother would never let me read.Â
"Excuse me, is Mrs. Larsen here tonight?"Â
The woman looked up at me with an embarrassed face and I couldn't stop wondering what she actually just had been reading.Â
"Yes, if you sit down I can get her for you?"Â
I smiled and waved a little with the striped apron I had on.Â
"I work here so I can look by myself?"Â
"Okay. I mean, yes. I think she is in her office, it's past the staff room." The woman said while she stood up from the desk and locked up the door to the ward's long corridor. Â
I smiled a little and tried to look more confident than I was when I walked into the corridor. In my head I repeated the same two words over and over to feel more sure about myself:Â
Nothing bad would happen to me because I was the doctor's daughter.Â
ĂĂĂ
Last time I was in the corridor for the mentally ill all the doors to the patients were closed but tonight one door was open. I was forced to go by it to go to the staff room but instead of getting nervous or scared I felt excited. It must be Billy's room. My thought wasn't logical but right then and there, there was only one patient at the psychiatric ward for me. I looked in through the door while walking by and saw two male caretakers talking loudly and irritated to someone.Â
"No, time to sleep!" Said one of the caretakers and pushed down a person onto the steel framed bed. I thought back to the night before and became even more sure that it was Billy. It must be him that the caretaker got that irritated with. I stood and looked in through the door as if it were some sort of performance I was watching and just hoped to see Billy's face but when the caretaker moved away I saw it was an older woman. Tears streamed down her wrinkled skin while she muttered something to herself. She tried to push the caretakers away but they just continued to push her down in bed.Â
"Who are you?" Said one of the caretakers when he found me staring at them in the doorway.Â
"Excuse me, I work here. Just going to the staff room," I said with flushed cheeks and showed off my striped apron like it was my golden ticket. The caretaker just nodded and then took a hold of the old lady's wrist in a vise grip. She yelped in pain and I swallowed hard by seeing her pained expression. Why did they handle her so roughly?Â
I had a bad feeling when I walked away from the lady's room but tried to think about why I was there. Billy. I walked into the staff room that was much more welcoming than the rest of the ward. There were floral curtains on the windows, crochet table cloths and colorful paintings. I put on my hat and fixed my apron before knocking Mrs. Larsen's office door. I begged silently to myself that this would go well.Â
Mrs.Larsen opened with a wrapped sandwich in her hand and covered her full mouth with a hand.Â
"Oh, Ms. Woods. Can I help you with something?"Â
I gave her a puzzled look and looked around confused. All an act like I'd planned.Â
"You said yesterday that I should come tonight too?"Â
Mrs. Larsen swallowed dryly and brushed away some crumbs on her top lip.Â
"Did I? I'm sorry, I don't remember that. I guess I must have been tired."Â
I looked at her with big eyes and played with my fingers in front of me and my sweet way seemed to charm her.Â
"Oh well, we can probably find you something to do tonight too," she said with a smile and moved away from the door so I could walk into her little cramped office.Â
ĂĂĂÂ
Annike let me put the breakfast together with two nurses with kitchen duties. In the other wards the patients could write down what they wanted and then it was served in their rooms, this was not the way here. The food was prepared lovelessly and was put up in big serving dishes. I didn't even see them put butter on the bread. As soon as the clock turned five it was time for us to serve the food. I felt ashamed looking at the tired food presented as a buffet in the dining room and I guess the oldest of the nurses, Connie, saw what I was thinking and gave me a look.Â
"Many of them don't even know what they are eating. I don't think they can even taste things," she said while I looked down at the floor. It sounded just like an excuse, of course they could sense taste.Â
"Time to wake them up! Go and help the caretakers!" Said Connie with a strict voice and almost pushed me away. I hadn't believed I would come so close to the patients and got a bit nervous. In the corridor I could see one caretaker walk around and lock up the doors while the others went inside to help the patient up from the bed, or I guessed that was what they did. Just to do my part I opened a door and could see a girl my own age sitting in the bed. She was heavily pregnant and rubbed her eyes from sleep.Â
"Breakfast?" I said and she gave me a confused look but then she nodded with a smile.Â
"Thank you forâŚ" She didn't say anything more because a caretaker looked into the room and she started to put on a green ragged cardigan. l smiled a little and then took the next door and opened. In the middle of the floor stood a man who looked around confused.Â
"Hey?" I said carefully. The man didn't seem to hear me so I took a step into the room.Â
"Hello?" The man looked at me with tired eyes but then started to laugh. Just when it started to feel scary a male caretaker dragged me out of the room.Â
"You shouldn't be here! If you want to help you can wake up the patients in the beginning of the hallway!â He screamed at me while he closed the door in front of the male patient's face. I stood quietly in shock but then felt a mix of panic and relief when I heard the male patient hit and scream against the other side of the door.
"Go! "Now!" Said the caretaker angrily and with my heart in my throat I ran to the first door in the corridor and opened it quickly with adrenaline in my body.Â
"Girl, girly!" Said a man in the room. "I'm naked!" He said at the same time I had realized the fact he had just given me. A long manly body laid stretched from head to toe in the bed and I panicked and turned around so fast I hit the wall. Behind me the man chuckled a little.Â
"Sorry⌠Are you okay, honey?" He asked when I covered my jaw after I had hit in the wall. I didn't say anything because I was a bit annoyed in the middle of my embarrassment. He was laying naked in a psychiatric ward but laughed at me because I had walked into a wall. He was insane for real.Â
"Yes, I'm fine." I said with a trembling voice and rubbed my jaw as I thought I could wipe away the pain.Â
"Is it breakfast?" He said in an almost happy tone and I wondered if I needed to be afraid of him too.Â
"Yes," I said embarrassed without turning around. I hadn't forgotten that there was a naked man behind me. I didn't want my first experience seeing a penis being together with a patient in the looney bin.Â
"Oh I'm so hungry⌠Ehh⌠Will you release me?"
I furrowed my brows and looked down at my white pumps.Â
"What do you mean?"Â
"Well, they said to you to wake me up for breakfast?"Â
"Yes?"Â
"Then you must release the handcuffs."Â
I looked up from my shoes, up at the wall. There was something in me that wanted to turn around and look at what he meant but all I could see in my head was my own imagination of what manhood looked like. My sister had said that they are really different at daytime and nighttime and I couldn't understand at all what she meant with that.Â
"Hand⌠Handcuffs?'' I said carefully. At that moment it suddenly hit me that I recognized the voice of the man. Was it actually Billy SkarsgĂĽrd who was lying naked behind me, cuffed to the steel frame of the bed?Â
"Handcuffs," he just said and moved his hands so I could hear the metal of the handcuff slam against the bed frame.Â
"Bill⌠Bill, Billy?" I stuttered. I couldn't stop my impulses and now the craving was bigger of knowing if it was Billy behind me than the need to be a good girl.Â
He laughed silently.Â
"Yes. I'm Billy⌠What's your name, honey?"Â
My heart beated in my chest loudly and I forgot every important thing when I understood who I was talking to so with a hammering heart and eagerness I turned around even if he was naked.Â
"Oh my god!" I first said excitedly then I saw his naked body. The broad chest, the long, hairy legs but also his sex lying soft against his thigh surrounded with dark pubic hair.Â
"Oh my god!" I said again and turned around again horrified. There was so much naked skin. The only human I had seen that naked was myself. I heard Billy laugh again.Â
"Do you have the keys?"Â
I ran out of the room. I didn't have any keys but I was also terrified of seeing a naked man like that. Billy SkarsgĂĽrd naked. I felt some sort of anxiousness by seeing it but it got even worse when I realized I wanted to see it again. Especially his manhood.Â
I stood in a blushing mess and stared into the wall opposite of the door to Billy's room and I could hear a male caretaker walk into him.Â
"Have you traumatized the girl for life now?â He said with a natural tone.Â
"With my naked body? I think my body is extremely normal," said Billy. The caretaker sighed deeply.Â
"Right.. So the question is what you do with all those girls⌠How you're able to destroy themâŚ" said the caretaker lowly but with a hint of annoyance.Â
"I don't know. Can you take off the handcuffs now?" Billy said beggingly and his tone made me turn and look in through the doorway. I could just see his naked legs and feet. Everything passed the middle of his thigh, was covered by the caretaker's body while he stood in front of him. The caretaker laughed unamused and shook his head.Â
"If I could I would let you rot in this bed. Someone should do an exorcism on you instead of just drugging youâŚ"Â
I swallowed hard and tightened my fist in front of me so hard my nails wounded me. Was Billy a rapist? Did he have a sexual deviation? Nymphomania? Or was he actually in contact with the devil?Â
I had never believed in the devil but standing there, hearing a grown sane man talk about an exorcism I didn't know what to believe.Â
"Can you just release me now? I'm really hungry."Â
I looked at the caretaker's back while he unlocked the handcuffs and then I moved to the side of the door, afraid that I would be seen eavesdropping or seeing Billy naked again.Â
"Dress and change sheets before breakfast, bedwetter," Said the caretaker before he left the room.Â
Luckily for me he didn't seem to notice me next to the doors opening and when he had left l looked into Billy's room again. He had put on the ward issued gray sweats and stood with his hands over his face. His shoulders bobbed as if he cried.Â
"Bill⌠Billy? Are you okay?" He exhaled deeply and wiped his eyes before looking at me. His eyes were red with tears and I felt a mix of sadness and nervousness seeing him like that. There must be something wrong, a mistake. Billy was a happy, talented, smart man. He wasn't a maniac.Â
"Yeah.. YeahâŚ" he said and smiled through the tears. "What's your name?"Â
I smiled a little, forgetting where we were and just saw handsome Billy in front of me. He was so tall but had an ugly wound over one of his brows and down his cheekbone.
"Joan, but everyone calls me Joanie."Â
"That's really prettyâŚ" he smiled and started carefully taking away the sheets from the bed.Â
"Do you need help?" I asked as I walked into the room.Â
"EhhâŚ" Now he looked embarrassed and even got pink in the cheeks. He was so cute. "I laid in handcuffs here the whole day so I⌠I needed to urinate.."Â
I smiled calmingly towards him.Â
"I've cleaned worse things doing this job," I said and started to help him remove the sheets. He smiled big towards me and dragged a hand through his greasy hair.Â
"Thank you," he said and looked me deep in the eyes. I blushed and shrugged.Â
"I mean, Joanie?"
 I looked up at him again, deep in those big green eyes.Â
"Thank you for treating me as a human."
ĂĂĂÂ
When Billy went to the canteen to eat breakfast I stood frozen in the hallway with his dirty sheets. He had smiled beautifully at me and dragged a hand through his hair in that sexy way he did in the movies. It affected me so hard that I was stuck standing in the hallway with a stupid smile on my lips while I imagined myself riding in a muscle car with him through floral fields.Â
"Joanie? Are you still here? I thought your shift ended an hour ago," said Annike and looked at me worriedly.Â
"Oh, yeahâŚ" I said with a dreamy tone.Â
"Has something happened?" She laid her hand on my shoulder and looked at the sheets in my hands.Â
"I'm just tired," I smiled a little.Â
She nodded and released my shoulder.Â
"I hope you tell me otherwise⌠Dr. WoodsâŚ" She started the sentence but then looked at me with a careful smile.Â
"Just tell me then but if you want to you can come back here. When is your next shift?" I smiled big and imagined Billy's beautiful eyes in front of me.Â
"Next week on Tuesday. 10 am to 7 pm."Â
Annike nodded with a smile.Â
"I will talk with Dr. Fredricks. It's really nice to have you here," she said and once again laid a hand on my shoulder.Â
"Thank you, Mrs. Larsen." I smiled sincerely because it was actually nice working at the psychiatric ward. No stupid Doctors, no jealous girls and instead of boring patients with a broken leg or fever there was actually a Hollywood star here. A Hollywood star who smiled at me brightly and I had even got to see him naked.Â
ĂĂĂÂ
My mother stood in the kitchen when I got home. It was silly really, how she could get up at 5 am just to prepare what we would eat for dinner twelve hours later. That was my mother's picture of the perfect wife, the dream for a woman to be, the dream for a man to have. If she knew I dreamt about Los Angeles, short skirts and now, also, an actor's penis she would have been horrified. She even thought the image of me as a working woman was horrible, me becoming an actress was almost as bad as prostitution.Â
"I'm going to bedâŚ" I said without saying hello and walked with tired steps towards the stairs. My mom looked up at me and shook her head.
"I'll wake you up in a couple of hours, you must help me bake bread today."Â
I closed my eyes and walked up the stairs just by memory.Â
"The Dawson's are coming to dinner tomorrow," she continued and I whined loudly. My mom wanted me to meet their son, Jacob. She had shown me pictures of him and tried to impress me with the university courses he had taken. I asked as a joke what kinda car he had but that made my mother irritated for real. I was hopeless in her eyes and she wondered how I could become that way when my sister was such a good housewife. I wonder the same thing sometimes. Maybe it was my lack of friends or it was the movies I've watched but something in me believed there was something more than becoming a housewife like my mother. I was far too special to just have such a boring life.Â
I laid down in bed when I had put on my nightgown and thought about Billy again. I wanted to give him something. A gift. And maybe a pink letter with splashes of my perfume. I giggled and rubbed my cheek against the pillow in embarrassment when I thought about giving him my flower. A picture of his steel bed in the ward flew by in my mind and I shook my head to myself. We would do it somewhere else. Maybe on that floral field after we had cruised through it with his shiny car.Â
ĂĂĂÂ
Do young, cool men really wear bowties 1961?Â
Jacob Dawson did. A green plaid one that clashed with his blue striped suit. He looked like a little old man but my mom looked at him like he was the most charming boy.
For once I had done my hair in another style than a ponytail and it laid down over my chest with perfect bent tips. I felt pretty in my newest dress, a lime green dress with a shirt collar. It actually ended over my knee and I felt daring and like I had some spice. Jacob looked at me with big eyes while our parents spoke. I was far out of his league and just felt uncomfortable when he smiled at me.Â
"What⌠What do you like to do? When you don't work at the hospital?" He asked carefully and wiped the sauce in the corner of his mouth on his jacket sleeve. Charming.Â
I wanted to tell him the truth; Movies, Hollywood, music and fashion. But my mother hated all of those things and she sat and looked at me intensely.
"Oh, I read⌠I bake? And I take long walks."Â
My mother looked pleased and everything except the baking was true. And the walks were often just a way for me to escape and pretend I wore high end fashion and flirted with millionaires.Â
Jacob smiled at me and nodded. I didn't ask him back because I wasn't that interested but as most men he didn't seem to need a reason to talk about himself.Â
He talked about books he had read, lectures he'd been to and also the course he had taken to become a good husband. He was such a snoozefest that if my dress hadn't been sitting so tight I would have fallen asleep.Â
As a doctor's family we didn't have the luxury to ignore the phone while eating. My dad's job was way too important so when the phone rang my mother, as the perfect little housewife she was, walked to the phone to answer. The odds that it was to her was small but she wouldn't let my father do any unnecessary movement when he was home and now he also was in a deep conversation with Mr. Dawson about useless secretaries and stupid elevator staff. When my mom came into the dining room again she waited for my dad to look at her before talking.Â
"It's Dr. Fredricks on the phone butâŚ" she turned to me and I looked at them confused. "He wants to talk to Joanie."Â
My dad looked at me then at my mom.Â
"Well let her then?" He just said and then turned to Mr. Dawson again. I looked at my mother to get her approval too. She gave me a worried look but showed with her hand it was okay for me to leave the table and take the call. I didn't know if it was what I wanted. Mr. Fredricks was bad news and it didn't feel like he could say anything positive. On nervous legs I walked to the kitchen where the phone stood on a side table.Â
"Yes, Dr. Fredricks?" I said politely and felt the nerves in my hand.Â
"Hello⌠Lovely Joanie," said a smooth manly voice. Not at all as Dr. Fredricks.Â
"Hello?" I said confused and looked around in the kitchen for an answer. The man laughed sweetly on the phone and exhaled deeply.Â
"It's me, Billy⌠Skarsgard."Â
"Billy??" I was surprised before I realized I probably should pretend like I was speaking with Dr. Fredricks.
"Yeah. I have some friends here that have helped me with some things⌠Do you want to take a ride? Now? Tell your parents that you have work and meet me at the parking lot on the north side of the hospital."
Description: 1961. Joanie is a dreamer. She dreams of Hollywood, fashion and handsome men. Her favorite is the actor Billy SkarsgĂĽrd. When she works as a volunteer at the hospital she meets him in an unexpected way and comes closer to him than she thought was possible.
Characters: AU Bill SkarsgĂĽrd, here called Billy. He's inspired by real life Bill but also the character Clark Olofsson in the Netflix series Clark. The rest is my own characters.
Setting: This story is set in the 60s L.A and a smaller town close to L.A.
Warnings: 18+, historical preferences, mental health problems, mental illness, smut.
Even if it was late it was still quite bright out and it helped me see him in the distance. He was leaning against the hood of a car while he smoked. He made perfect rings of the smoke and I wondered if he did anything sloppy. He felt like the type that perfected every artwork he did. When I came closer he looked up at me and smirked with amusement. I knew why he looked like that and also why he bit his lip. I had been forced to wear my uniform so my parents would believe I was going to work so now I was walking towards him in my white nurse dress. I felt silly but knew other men had said I was cute in it. Maybe Billy would think the same?
"Oh, my own little nurse," he said when I came closer. He threw his cigarette on the ground and pushed his hands down the front pockets of his pants. They must have been his own pants but the sweater he wore seemed to be from the ward, I had seen other patients in similar ones. I blushed at his words but tried to look confident and grown up, like a femme fatale in a movie even if something told me I wasnât doing it so very well.
"It's not my car but do you want to take a ride?"
I swallowed hard and fiddled with a button on my spring coat.
"Who's car is it?"
"Shawn's. He's a friend."
Billy opened the door for me and hypnotized by his smile I jumped into the passenger seat of the car. My mother had never even let me ride with the boys I went to school with, now I would ride in the evening with a young man. A famous, crazy actor. I giggled at the thought and it made Billy laugh softly when he jumped in next to me. He gave me a smile and licked his lips.
"I hope you're in for some trouble," he said and wiggled his brows before starting the car. I didn't know what he meant by trouble, only that I just wanted to find out. If it was real trouble then it would be that way. I just wanted the adventure.
I looked at Billy when he was driving with one hand. We sat silent in the Simca car. It wasn't anything special and I wondered what kind of car Billy owned. Living in L.A he must have a car, or maybe he had several? Was he rich? I didn't have a clue how much he earned and I realized didn't know anything about him.
"How old are you?" I asked and looked at his hands. My mom had said hands were a good clue to how old a person was. His hands were big but elegant, slender with smooth pale skin, like he hadn't done any practical work in his life.
"26, how old are you?" He asked and looked at me up and down. "18 or something?"
"Nineteen. I don't go to high school or anything like that. I work andâŚ" I didn't have anything more to say to prove I was an adult but Billy didn't seem to react to it.
"You're from Sweden?" I said and looked out over the city. I didn't have a clue where he was driving and it had started to get dark.
"Mm," he just said and continued to look at the road.
"When did you move here?"
"I was your age."
I nodded a little when I understood he didn't want to talk about it. Even if he was standoffish I felt surprisingly calm. It was quick for me to calm down in his company even if I couldn't stop admiring his special beauty.
We rode through the countryside, by the ocean. It was quiet in the car but I didn't feel uncomfortable at all. I just looked at the beautiful surroundings and listened to the sounds of the car. I could smell faintly of an aftershave, but not the heavy sort my dad used.
Billy cleared his voice and I woke up from my trance-like state.
"You're different⌠I thought the first thing you would ask was why I am in the loony bin."
I looked at Billy who continued to look at the road but his expression had changed. He didn't look as tough any more.
"Of course I thought about it⌠But I don't get the feeling that you're one of them? Or⌠Are you?" I looked at him examining even if I felt quite indifferent to the answer.
Billy laughed uncomfortably and drove out on the highroad.
"I don't know. I guess in their eyes I amâŚ"
I swallowed hard and looked down at my hands. I didn't know what that meant but I became worried for a few seconds then I looked at Billy's face again. He looked down at his lap and looked so fragile. Maybe he just was depressed? That was something I could handle and he hadn't shown signs for something else.
"You know, doctor's pretend to know so much. Pretend to have answers and evidence for everything. They say they know who I am, that I have these kinds of problems but they don't have an answer for anything. They just make it up. Typical doctors."
He ranted and sounded upset. I didn't say anything. Not because I was the doctor's daughter but because I actually didn't know if he was right. I wanted to believe my father wasn't like that but while listening to other doctor's I had wondered how much was a guess of what they said.
"I'm sorry," he said and looked at me with worried eyes. "I shouldn't talk so much."
I nodded a little but gave him a small smile.
"I don't think you are one of them⌠I think you're just⌠Special," I said with glowing cheeks and looked down at my lap. Billy made a sound, a happy sound and laid his hand on my thigh. I had never had a boy's hand on my thigh before and I looked at it a while before I laid my own hand on top of it. The back of his hand was warm and smooth and I dragged my fingers over it just to feel the smoothness of his skin.
"So⌠How well do you know who I am?" He asked with a teasing smile and I felt my face get beet red at once. I didn't know what to say. I thought about every picture of him I've cut out from magazines and every movie he was in that I had seen so many times.
"Ehh⌠Quite well I guess? You're quite famous," I said and looked out from the window of the car. He drove up a slope where there wasn't any lighting or other cars.
Billy just nodded at my words and licked his lips.
"But thereâs not much about you," I said and hoped he would tell me more.
"Like what, you mean?" He said and parked by a viewpoint so we could look out over the city under the Hollywood sign. It was beautiful and it took a while for me to answer as I was admiring the view.
"Like age⌠If you're marriedâŚ" I looked down at my hands embarrassed. I looked up at him and he succeeded in quickly catching my gaze. I drowned in his big green eyes while he smiled kindly towards me.
"I'm not marriedâŚ" I couldn't stop myself from smiling a blushy smile but got nervous again when I remembered what I've actually read about him.
"They call you a bad boyâŚ"
Billy threw his head back and laughed.
"Do they?"
I nodded and watched him closely when he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. I saw that he was trying to come up with an answer to that. He rubbed his stubbly jaw while I looked down at my little pearl ring I had inherited from my grandmother.
"I guess I like parties⌠And girlsâŚ"
He shrugged his shoulders and smiled towards me softly. I just looked down at my nurse dress and thought about what that meant. Did he kiss a lot of girls? Or did he just have many female friends?
"Oh⌠What are you doing with the girls?"
He laughed embarrassed but then licked his lips and looked at me up and down.
"I can show you?"
I didn't know how I knew but something about his energy told me he wanted my flower. My virginity.
"No⌠NoâŚ" I giggled bashfully and continued to look at my ring. "I'm a good girl."
Billy smiled at me and laid his hand on my thigh again.
"You can be a good girl anyway."
I shook my head but smiled. It was a compliment knowing he wanted to get so close to me but I knew a good girl waited for marriage. If you weren't a cheap girl or one of all those stupid girls who moved to L.A. to work as secretaries.
"Okay, I wonât force you or anything. Such things are beneath my dignity. I am a gentleman. Most often." He smirked as he put a cigarette between his lips.
"What do you want to do in the future? Do you want to be a nurse?"
I shook my head fast and watched him light his cigarette and took a deep drag.
"No. I want to do something more special."
"You should be a model," he said like it was obvious and looked me up and down. I laughed and shook my head. I was far from a model.
"I'm way too ugly for that. And tall. And skinny."
He nodded as if he thought the same but then smiled.
"That trend will be huge soon. You can see it in England. Skinny girls in the shortest skirts. They think I'm really handsome there. Here in the US I look too weird to be the handsome actor."
I looked at him with skepticism but I also a bit hurt.
"You think I'm ugly?"
"What?" He gave me a confused look. "No, no. God no. But you're more like Audrey Hepburn than Marilyn Monroe. You're more original." He took my hand in his and hugged it then he lifted it to his plump lips and kissed the back of it. My heart started to beat so hard it felt like I would have a heart attack. Maybe he could have my flower after all?
We sat by the viewpoint and talked about ordinary things but Billy also shared fantastic stories from his Hollywood life. It was obvious he first was uncomfortable doing so but did it because I loved it so much. I turned so I could sit with my back against the door and took off my flats. Billy tried to make himself comfortable too but his long legs made it hard for him to change his position.
"There is a blanket in the trunk. Maybe we can sit outside a bit? You can borrow my jacket."
Even if I was really comfortable with Billy now I blushed at the thought of borrowing his jacket. It was such a thing boyfriends and girlfriends did but I longed to have the smooth looking leather jacket over my shoulders. I saw it laying in the backseat and I imagined it smelling of his aftershave and cigarettes.
"OkayâŚ" I said and turned so I could jump out from the car. I still had my light blue spring coat over the nurse dress but it was thin and didn't give me any warmth, not like how a leather jacket would.
Billy spread out a green plaid blanket in front of the car then he looked at me with a smile.
"Is it cold? Do you want my jacket?"
I blushed again but really I wanted to tread the waters more so I walked up closer to him. He really was tall. He had always looked tall on screen but I had thought it was some kind of camera trick.
"Yes please," I said even if it wasn't that cold. But of course I wanted his jacket.
He laid the heavy leather jacket over my shoulders and wrapped me in it from behind. He dragged his hands over my arms and looked down at me over my shoulder. Some of his hair hung down in his eyes which made him look handsome and really dangerous. I just wanted him to kiss me the way he did with the girls in the movies.
"Better?" He said softly and continued to drag his hands up and down my arms. I wrapped the jacket around myself tighter and nodded. We stood like that for a while, Billy behind me, holding me close and I listened to my heart in my ears. I had never been so close to a boy and Billy was a man. Twenty six years old and seemed to have been with several women before me. That thought didn't scare me, instead I wanted him even more. A man with experience.
We sat close together on the blanket and while talking about awful movies we had seen and getting some insider gossip from Billy. He laid his arms around my shoulders and dragged me closer to him. The position wasn't really that comfortable because his arm laid heavy around me and to be able to rest my head against his shoulder I was forced to sit in a weird way. I really tried to say to myself it was nice but it really wasn't. My back hurt and I couldn't sit still.
"Are you uncomfortable?" He asked as he looked down at me while I tried to find a more comfortable position. I looked at his kind eyes and smiled a little.
"Ehh⌠A little?"
Billy smirked and laid down on his back on the blanket.
"Come here instead," he said, patting his chest. The knitted sweater had moved to the side and I could see his naked collarbone. I giggled a little and laid down half on top of him. It was nicer and I could listen to his even heartbeat at the same time. It was so dark now we could see constellations and to my surprise could Billy name quite many of them. I shifted between looking at his profile and the starlit sky even if I knew what star I wanted to watch. He shone brighter than all of them.
He must have felt how I watched him because while I stared he looked down at me and hugged my waist with a big strong hand. He moved so we laid nose against nose on the blanket, then he pressed his soft lips against mine. It was heavenly so when he continued I tried my best to follow his movement even if I didn't have any kissing experiences. He made a sound of amusement and took a break to look at me.
"Emm⌠Can you, like, let my tongue in?" He said and dragged me closer with a teasing smile on his lips.
"Oh⌠Yeah," I blushed hard and lowered my gaze.
"Just follow me okay? It's not that difficult," he said and pushed my hips against his. I could feel that he was different from me between his legs and thought back on the image of him naked in the bed. Maybe it was the fantasy about his sex that made me follow his movement better because after just a few seconds of tongue kissing I could follow Billy in his heated kisses and I moaned when our tongues danced with each other. He groaned and dragged me up so I laid on top of him and the movement made the three top buttons of my dress open up so he could see the white lace of my slip. Billy took a break and looked at my face in his hands, then down at my slip and my hardened nipples through the thin fabric.
"You're so sexyâŚ" he whispered and bit his lip. He looked evil watching me with a hooded gaze but I wasnât scared. This was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to me and I knew I would give my flower to him. I wanted him so badly and would do anything in my power to lose my virginity to him instead of someone like Jacob. Billy was sexy, manly and strong. Famous and mysterious. Sexy. I giggled and was just happy he wanted to be close to me so when he pushed down the sleeves of my nurse dress and then the thin straps of the slip I just let him. He looked at my chest in the moonlight and I felt beautiful and strong by seeing his big eyes on my breasts. My mom would have killed me if she saw how easily I let a boy close but this was Billy. Billy SkarsgĂĽrd.
"Can I touch them?" He said softly and pushed down the dresses so much my arms were free. I thought about covering myself with my hands but I liked how big and round Billy's eyes became from seeing my naked upper half.
"OkayâŚ" I giggled again and played with my fingers. I didn't know where to put my hands and when Bill's long fingers started to play with my nipples I didn't know what to do at all. The sensation made a hot stream flow down between my legs and when he continued to massage my breasts it felt like I peed myself. My panties were so wet by seeing big, beautiful Billy playing with my breasts and he did it so softly and did teasing circles on my areolas.
"Is that nice?" He whispered when he realized I squirmed in his hands.
"YesâŚ" I said and pressed my legs together. Billy moved me so that I laid on my back on the blanket and looked at me from top to toe.
"Do you want me to play with your pussy?"
The word made me open my eyes in horror. I had never heard anyone say it that way, just some stupid boys in school, but not like it was a sexy word. But it was. Everything that came out from Billy's lips was sexy but it wasn't time for it. I pressed my legs together harder, not by arousement this time but because of panic. If he got my panties off he would probably be able to stick his⌠Thing in me.
I sat up and covered my chest with my hands.
"Ehh⌠Maybe next time?" I said and tried to say it sexily. Billy moved away from me and laughed warmly.
"So there will be a next time?" He said and laid my hair over my shoulder. I nodded quickly.
"Yes. Yes. And I think Iâll work on the ward too soâŚ"
Billy smiled a little uncomfortable and looked out over the view.
"Hopefully you wonât see anything scary. It's not a place for a young, fine woman like you."
I smiled a little and shrugged my shoulders. I let go of my breasts to be able to take his hand in mine and Billy was quick at looking at my chest again. How I loved having his attention on me.
Even if Billy had many hours left in freedom he drove me home by midnight. I wondered why when I knew he didn't need to be back at the ward until 5 AM, when they woke the patients up. Maybe he wanted to be the gentleman he had said he was because it didn't feel like he had lost interest in me. I actually felt the opposite because the whole way back to my little town he held my hand in his big warm palm. It felt like I was in love and I probably was. He was the first boy I had been with all alone and now also been so close to. I looked at him bashfully and wondered if he was my boyfriend now but I didn't dare to ask. If he had been with other women he maybe didn't feel that intense feeling of love as I did.
"Is it something?" He asked when he noticed I just sat and watched him. I shook my head with a smile even if my head was full of questions.
"Do you want to meet me again tomorrow night?" He asked and smirked a bit cockily. He probably already knew the answer to that question.
"Yes." I just said with a blushing smile.
âHow do you live? Like, do you have your bedroom next to your parents?"
He parked the car at the beginning of my street so my parents wouldn't see his car if they were awake.
"No, we have our bedrooms on the second floor but they have theirs at the end of the hallway to the right while I have mine to the left. Why?"
Bill smirked a little and licked his lips.
"Tomorrow, can I visit? In your bedroom?"
I felt my ears heat and my heart rythm go up. I don't even know how he would be able to come into my bedroom at night without using the entrance door.
"Can⌠Does that work?" I asked and looked at Bill's handsome face. He smiled reassuringly and nodded.
"I will find a way. Believe me."
I nodded nervously and looked discreetly down between his legs. Did he want my body then?
"We can just hang out. Maybe just cuddle a little?" He said like he had seen my doubt. He smiled sweetly and played with my hand in his and dragged his thumb over the pearl ring. I giggled and nodded. I believed him when he said he would find a way. He was probably creative.
"Can I kiss you goodbye?" He said softly and leaned closer to me. His eyes shifted between looking at my eyes and my lips. I just nodded and soon felt his soft lips against mine. He kissed more determinedly now and I felt more sure about how to do it. It was really nice and it felt like he thought so too because he groaned and pulled me closer by the waist. I wished we didn't have the gear shift between us. I giggled against his lips when I realized again who I was kissing. Billy SkarsgĂĽrd! I was kissing Billy SkarsgĂĽrd!
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It didn't seem like my mother had noticed that I disappeared in my daydreams more than I otherwise did. She probably was too uninterested in my extravagant dreams to actually care. She forced me to help her make a cake for my father instead. It was his 53rd birthday and when he came home we would celebrate him. And when my parents were asleep Billy would jump in through my window. Like in a movie.
"So what did you think about Jacob?" My mom asked while the cake was in the oven.
Who? Jacob?
"EhhâŚ" I said to win time.
"Wasn't he sweet? Did you hear that he has taken a course on how to be a good husband? Few men do such things. Care so much."
Oh. Right. Jacob with a green bowtie. The pattern was similar to the blanket I had made out with Billy on. I blushed with a small smile.
"Aw! You like him!" Said my mother teasingly and excitedly happy. If she just knew what I was really thinking about. I tried to come up with something to say but maybe it was better if my parents believed I liked Jacob, then they wouldn't try to matchmake me with someone else.
"He was nice," I said with a shoulder shrug but pretended to be embarrassed. My mom laughed and gave me a hug, like it was something to celebrate.
"Maybe we can invite him this weekend?" She said and gave me an expecting smile and I smiled back but really I wondered if I would be with Billy then too.
"Sure⌠But I work on Friday."
It wasn't a lie, I was but I didn't know if I would continue in the psychiatric ward. Maybe it wasn't a place for me, just like Billy had said but I just wanted to see him as much as I could.
When my father got home we celebrated him with the double frosted chocolate cake he loved. As usual he let me blow out the candles even if I was now an adult woman. He seemed to have some problems understanding that I had become older and wanted me to still be his little girl. It was just a year ago he had tried to get me to sit in his lap but then my mother actually said no. It wouldn't look good, especially not if a young man would see us. No boy wants to marry a daddy's girl. But I wasn't really a daddy's girl and the whole family knew that. My father had worked most of my childhood and I couldn't say I knew him or that he knew me. My father just believed he knew me and saw me as one of his perfect daughters even if I wasn't. Far from it. I was close to not getting a grade in neither math or science because I couldn't focus and some teachers had even called me stupid. It wasn't that kind of daughter a doctor should have but my dad probably didn't even know that. My mother never told him about the bad things and let him believe I was just as perfect as my sister. Or maybe even a future doctor.
All of us went to bed at 9 PM but most often my mother let me stay up to read. She thought I read Jane Austen but I usually just stayed up to do different hairstyles and practice painting the perfect winged eyeliner. I think I had learned to master that by now so that night I made an elegant updo on myself and painted eyeliner and my lips. I thought about what to wear but some sort of confidence took over so I wore just my thin slip. I looked like some actress in a french movie and the only thing that was missing was a cigarette in a holster.
I laid down in bed and tried to lay sensually but it was hard and especially when I realized I would need to wait for Billy a long time. I didn't know when he would come and even he didn't know when he could come. For a second I wondered if he maybe would give up but that didn't feel like Billy. I already had a feeling he was the sort that stuck to his plans.
I hadn't even noticed that I had fallen asleep when I woke up to a light knocking on my window. I didn't remember why I was lying in my slip with my hair up until it knocked again.
Billy. He had come!
I looked at myself fast in the mirror and fixed myself. I didn't look as good as I had done before I fell asleep but still looked good. A Brigitte Bardot I would never become.
Billy sat outside off the window on the little roof over the windows on the first floor. It was really thin so I couldn't understand how he was able to come up there. When I moved the yellow curtain away I met his mischievous eyes. Oh Lord, wasn't he the cutest?
It was a task to open the window without Billy falling down the roof but I noticed he was much more lethal than I thought. He was tall, broad shouldered but he seemed to have an easy time moving around, sometimes even like a dancer. He jumped into my room and landed smoothly on my rug. I couldn't stop myself from giggling and that made him smile big and drag me close to his body.
"HeyâŚ" he said softly and kissed my cheek. I giggled again and hugged him around his neck.
"Missed me?" He said and hugged me back around my waist so my dress moved with his hands. He patted it down again but dragged his fingertips over the silky fabric.
"I've missed you," I just said and gave him a warm smile. I wondered again if he was my boyfriend. It felt like it. It felt like it even more when he kissed me deeply and pushed my body even closer to his.
notes: angst, mentions of burglary, comforting!javi, somewhat-established relationship (i.e. they're a mess but care)
wc: 2.9k
summary: in fact, he walks as if he should be here. as if you calling him tonight was normal. expected. that it's what you both do, even if neither of you has done it in weeks.
javier peĂąa masterlist
He shouldn't have been the first person you thought to call.
Your hand shakes at first, biting down on your bottom lip as you press each of the digits of his number. The sound is so loud in the chaotic silenceâit pierces more than the shattered glass under your shoes and the wind sliding in through the broken window and busted door.Â
Itâs only as the dial tone hits your ears does the adrenaline sink its pearly whites into your bones, forming something else. Something more unchecked, difficult to manageâto pinpoint.Â
You expect it to fade when he answersâwhen his voice drips into your ear and smooths itself over the cracks which have widened in the last thirty minutes.Â
It doesnât. Surprisingly.Â
The effect, it usually has, not being able to handle the breadth of what has happened. Not even when you hear him draining liquid down his throat and swallowing, the sound of him moving from his chairâlikely aggressively stamping out a lit cigarette.Â
Gimme fifteen, Iâll be there, hermosa.Â
He arrives to a broken sight. Not all that different from the one you had when youâd reached your front door, to find it open.Â
Your dinner is a mess in the doorway, the scent of it still flooding the airâmixing with the tacky plum red shade from the wine bottle youâd let slip from your grip.Â
It wasnât just your food that was a mess, but the things in your place. Feathers from cushions, photo frames cracked and left in tatters on the floor. Your place has been ripped apart, as if there was anything of importance for those who werenât you.Â
Itâs a message.Â
Thatâs what the little voice says in your mind.Â
Thatâs what you think as you tiptoe in, assessing the mess. Hand on your chest, easing the tightness as tears threaten to fall. Suddenly unable to think of anything but him. Calling him.Â
Itâs why you feel a little less exposed when he arrives. His presence bathing you in figurative lukewarm water, shoulders sliding from your earsâas difficult as it is to admit.Â
You had been half listening for him, so used to honing in on the sound of his car. The way he always slams the door into its frame. Before, it filled you with thrill, tonight it made you relax. A speckle of comfort in the twisted ness of the night.Â
So used to him visiting at this time, youâre sure a thousand doors could be shut, in a thousand different ways, and youâd still be able to pick Javier PeĂąa out from a lineup.Â
You assume itâs normal when you only see him alone in the dead of the night. When the world is silent. You have become accustomed to the sound of his approach, especially at an hour close to this.Â
His existenceâand his handsome featuresâhaving slowly been burned in, soldered to you in the aim of being a part of you. All because he first sought something he hadnât had, and then grew to enjoy having someone he didnât need to throw money at for intimacy, friendship, whiskey and a good fuck. And you had allowed it to happen.Â
Happened.Â
Waking up from your living daydream to realise that thrill wasnât just for the way he made you feel, but something else which ticked inside of youâthat melded to your heartbeat and pulse. That hooked your lips into a smile.Â
That youâd begin to crave the before and the after, more than the moments where he made your toes curl and your back arch.Â
Youâd been doing well at keeping him at bay. Sliding the two of you into a new zone: just colleagues. Having managed it wellâuntil tonight. Until you felt scared, your skin prickled and goose-bumped with what-ifs. When your breath had caught in your throat, and your strength had wilted from the outside, in, so quicklyâalmost as though it had been lit with a match.Â
Heâs smoothing his hair as he catches your eye, holding it, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve from tonight. To pretend. To let yourself sink into the pool of make-believe and coat yourself in the idea that heâs come here for other reasonsâbecause youâre his, and only his.Â
Eventually, you blink. Eyes focusing, even if they shouldnât, as he grabs something from the passenger side.Â
You're yanked from him by the officer in front of you, your name on his lips, tugging you back to the report youâre filing. The one with so many questions. A reminder that comes in waves that your place had been broken into, robbed, ripped apart.Â
Itâs bubbling, the panic again. It forces your Spanish to be intercepted with spurts of English. Your brain struggling to remember hard facts, unable to recall if there were files or notesâeven if you never bring anything home.
The grip youâd had on the evening growing close to implodingâor explodingâwaning thick and fast as you feel your body beginning to shake like it had when youâd first called him.Â
Glancing at him, you search for something. Comfort, calmnessâŚÂ
Instead, you watch him approach with no nerves, no semblance of concern that he shouldnât be here. That it's weird that he is. In fact, he walks as if he should be here. As if you calling him tonight was normal. Expected. That it's what you both do, even if neither of you has done it in weeks.
You wonder briefly if youâre the only one thudding with doubt as he approaches. Whatever feelings you had, were twisting up inside you, not entirely sure if you were glad he had arrived or not. The reel of your last argument begins to play out, the words merging into a song in the height of a movie. The scene flickers out across the unclipped bushes and the buildingâs floral planters.Â
Javier doesnât say hello, he wraps the spare jacket in his handâthe one he must have retrieved from the passenger sideâaround your shoulders.Â
âHere, youâre shaking, hermosa.â
His hand, light and cautious, slides under it, finding your lower back. Soft, delicateâa fluttering of warmth across a sea of cold. Iâm here, hermosa. Iâm here.Â
It makes the words on your tongue fade, falling through a shaky grasp as your eyes brush over the taut expression on his face. Noticing up close all the usual marks of his beauty, but also how thereâs a line between his brows. A deep one.Â
One you couldnât place or be sure as to whyânot as he introduces himself to the officer, not as he spreads his fingers more over your lower back. Intentional, purposeful and direct.
It takes a moment, one far too long and stretched too thin, before you realise itâs concern etched into his features. Heâs troubled, worriedâŚ
You donât unpack it. Canât. Shoving it instead in the box marked PeĂąa in your mind. The one that should remain untouched, unopened. Not willing to deal with the fallout, the complications and emotions from lifting the flimsy lid.Â
It almost passes over you, the way Javier is told that the officer will be in touch when he closes his notebook. As though heâd been waiting for a man to arrive. Not speaking to you. The officer shook his hand, and only nodded at youâas though youâd been a mere placeholder, rather than the actual victim.Â
It snaps off another part of you. It falls to meet the others at your feetâmore things to mould, to rot and decompose.Â
A collection of them is now growing thick, making it hard to walk from the way you wade through them. The narcos, Colombiaâyour feelings for Javierâand, at the top of the pile, your job. How itâs been slowly worsening the cracks as the pressure increases.Â
Letting your eyes meet his, a mist descends, falling, raining down over the two of you. Some parts are littered with resentment. Bitterness. Yet, it all knots, mixing horribly with another part that is both thankful and grateful. Wanting to curl into him, almost doing so. Seeking his broad frame and reassuring touch, and alsoâ
âHermosaâŚâ
You pull away, cold touching the parts of you it hadnât grasped. Even if you clutch his jacket around you, the one you like the most on himâthe one he wore that first night, and so many others after once youâd told him that he looked good in it.Â
Stepping over your failed dinner, you stand in the hallway of your place. The one which doesnât feel like yours anymore. It has been poisoned with violation, spoiled with a lack of safetyâa place forever changed by the invasion.Â
Evidence of it is everywhere, from the kitchen to the doorway of your bedroom. A mess left behind, difficult to see throughâunsure what is salvageable and what has already been ruined beyond measure.Â
Locks. Windows. Doors.Â
They had felt enough until they didnâtâa safety that you had taken for granted until it had been breached.Â
Youâre set to shout to him. Ask him what you should do. Unsureness fizzing and boiling inside of you, when it catches your eye. The bright orange shard, the chunk of something larger, lost to the destruction of your home.Â
You bend, sliding your fingers over the shardâthe decoration feeling cold, and also heavy.Â
It belonged to something that once fit in your palm. An object youâd admired in a barâa decorative accessory that Javier had stolen for you because you had talked about it incessantly. Borrowed, he had said. The two of you were borrowing it. Him agreeing, even if he hadnât seen your place, that it would suit your place.Â
If I get it for you, will you shut up about it?Â
What else will we discuss, though?Â
Iâve got plenty of things to keep your mouth busy, hermosa.Â
Somehow, that doesnât surprise me, PeĂąa.
Javi. You need to call me Javi.Â
He had slid it into your pocket when heâd led you out an hour later, laughter peppering the airâhis lips finding yours outside your place, taking the keys from your hand as he pulled you close.Â
Thought about this for so long, gonna take my time with you.Â
He did. Spent more hours undoing you, breaking you down, unravelling you until you were nothing but ruined by him.Â
You had called him Javi, eventually and then continuously, almost like a chorusâunderstanding why he had half the secretaries blushing and the rest fluttering their eyelashes when you woke sore but blissful.Â
It hadnât meant to happen again, and again, or again.Â
Now, your cheeks burned for another reason, holding the fragmented memory of that night. Teasing the edges of it. The borrowed ornament that had never been returned, and now never would. Sliding it around your palm, hearing him come to a stop behind you as you slowly stand, looking over your shoulder at him.Â
âFuck,â he whispers, hand massaging his jaw. âHermosa, this isâIâm soâŚâ
Watching his reaction cements your own. Unlocking any doubts that you were being dramatic in how you felt.Â
Your lips purse, shifting the broken shard in your hand. âI think that they were looking for something, but they took jewellery, a gold frame, someâŚmoneyâŚmyâŚâÂ
Then it cracks.Â
Your voice. Your strength. All of it youâd mustered as you lifted your eyes. Finding soft brown washing you, enveloping you in gentle and kind. The same eyes youâd first fallen for, the same ones which had looked down at you as fingers lifted your hips.Â
You sure you want this, hermosa?Â
Want you, Javi. Always wanted you.
Swallowing thickly, you donât move when his hand cups yours, thumb sliding over the shardâeyes flicking to it, before back to you.Â
âYou canât stay hereâŚâ
âI⌠I havenâtâI donât.âÂ
His lips twitch, sliding into his cheek. âCome stay at mine.â
You should decline. Politely. Stand in your conviction, your argument simmering in the backgroundâstill not really brought up, not handled, or tackled.Â
If anything, the two of you had become talented at ignoring it. Ignoring everything that had happened from the first sip of alcohol that night to the afternoon youâd shredded whatever the two of you were.Â
Youâre done?
Yes. It was fun while it lastedâa slip-up, an accident, Javi.Â
Didnât feel like a fuckinâ accident, hermosaânot with the amount we did it, not for how long we did it.Â
I get it, Iâm good, PeĂąaâbut Iâm not a whore, I donât need to fuck you to get by.Â
Thatâs fucking low, even for you.Â
What do you want me to say?
The truth.
Fine, Iâm falling for you, Javi. Iâm falling for youâŚ
His fingers slide up your wrist, teasing your forearm as he looks at youâreally looking at you. Seeing the frayed edges and past the faux pretence.Â
âJust while they get themâand they will, Iâll⌠Iâll make sure of it.âÂ
Nodding, you breathe out. Let it filter from your lungs, taking with it some of the tension from your shoulders.Â
âYouâd be safe. Steve upstairs, me there.âÂ
Cologne and leather hitting your nose, washing you in himâa scent youâve come to need as much as love. Knowing heâs right.Â
Knowing that even if your door wasnât broken and your window wasnât smashed, that here isnât safe. It doesnât feel it now. An aura thatâs twisted the comforting solitude with something darker.Â
What do you want from me?
âNothingâ
Babâ
Because you have nothing to give me, Javi. What, you suddenly gonna be able to promise me that if I need you, youâll come running?Â
HermosaâŚÂ
You canât promise that, Javiâand I respect that. You have a job to do. An important one. And, while I donât expect flowers and dinners, Iâd like to know the person I am falling for could be there if I needed themâŚ
Heâs here.Â
Like you needed him to be.Â
Blinking away tears as you stare up at him, not caring if he sees them or not.Â
If you called me, hermosa. Iâd be there. Donât fucking doubt that for one second.Â
Itâs all you can hear as he stares at you. As though heâs burning the words into you. Reminding youâremember I told you Iâd be here, and I am. He likely sees it, the way it flutters over your eyes in the same way you tremble under the weight of it. The meaning of it.
That and because your nerves are on edge, you feel eyes on you and not just his. The two of you forever dancing around the thing right in front of you both.Â
That you get under his skin, that he irritates you; that he understands how you feel, that you know the pressure on his shoulders. That youâre pretty, that heâs handsome. That the two of you make sense, but sense has no place when there are jobs to be done to hunt down Escobar.Â
âPlease, hermosa. I⌠come stay with me. So, I donât worry.â
"Y-you don't worry about me..."
His stare is stern, with an edge to it: I always worry about you. A softness simmering under it, desperate to emerge, one that heâs holding back. Only showing you thereâs no room for questions or protest.Â
That same line, from earlier, appears between his browsâthe concerned one. It knits itself slowly into his expression as you stay silent.Â
âJust come hate me from my place, can throw shoes at meâshout at me. Justââ
âI donât... I don't hate you.â
He breathes a sigh. âI⌠I know.â
âOkay.âÂ
Itâs a fraction, a slight shift, but his eyes widen. Quickly followed by a nod, by a firmer hold on your wrist as he plucks the piece from your palm with his other, pocketing it.Â
âNeed you to go pack a bag, baby.âÂ
Nodding, you motion to move, to go do as he says. But, he doesnât let go. Rolling your wrist in between his fingers and thumbâwarmth kneads into your muscle, skin and bone. Something stirring, able to rear its head through the sadness and fear, something you keep trying to keep at arm's length, but is now not even a hands length away from you.Â
Then he brushes his knuckles against your cheek, and you turn into it. Into comfort, affectionâhim.Â
âSo glad youâre safe, hermosaâif youâd been hereâŚfuck.âÂ
His voice trails off, a look in his eyes he banishes quickly. The one which had been swirling with darkness, anger and something else.Â
âGlad you called me, too.âÂ
You try to smile. Itâs awkward, barely meeting your cheeks, never mind your eyes. âThereâs no one else.â
âNo?âÂ
You shake your head, his fingers smoothing out over your cheek, feeling him sighâhis body relaxing ever so slightly. His face is so close, mouth even closerâeyes awash still with fear and longing that it makes your stomach tightenâuntil itâs pressing against yours.Â
His lips are soft, but unforgiving. Desperately trying to carve into you his gratefulness that youâre okay, that you called.Â
Javier doesnât need to say any of it. He said it in his eyes, screamed itâconfirming it as he slid his tongue past your lower lip, kissing you as if he could rid you of all your anxieties and fears.Â
You want him to. Need him to.Â
Called him and only him because you knew he could. Hoped he would. Thankful he has.Â
Pulling him close so he can taste that fact. So the words you wish to say burn into his mouth, instead of his ears. So he can swallow them, and truly process them.Â
And then, it slows until it stops.
The two of you share breaths, allowing your eyes to open and drink the other in. Feeling his lips press against your forehead, just before he rests his against yours.Â
His hand drops from your cheek to your arm, rubbing in slow circles as your mouth opens to speak. Him beating you to it with, âIâve got you.âÂ
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