Tumgik
#(yes the kid dies but he’s fine)
flareboi · 2 months
Text
what if purple never calls him dad
#what if the word ‘dad’ is something purple doesn’t like.#what if it carries a bad connotation for them and a bitter reminder for mango.#family doesnt always have to look like one thing yknow? i dont think those two would have a traditional dynamic in that way#maybe purple does consider him their parent. they just dont call him ‘dad’ unless its in third person#and theyre fine with that and so is he#king is his father figure yes but he’s also a mom. a big brother. a sister. their dynamic just isnt captured in purple calling him ‘dad’#maybe his name is the best way they can say it. the best way they can appreciate him#because for purple a father is someone who hurts you. someone who leaves you#i think ‘purple calls him dad on accident’ is a cute idea#but honestly it would make more sense if they called him mom on accident instead. or if it happened when they were afraid. not comfortable#(this is presuming orchid is his mother and navy his father based on the pronouns used in the react vids iirc)#because why would purple refer to someone he sees as a parent with the title of the one that presumably did not raise them?#and on mangos end#i think u can kinda tell who in this fandom has never lost a loved one in how they characterize him#guys. grief doesnt leave. it never leaves.#you just learn to live with it!!!#mango is not okay just because he has a new kid to take care of. i would know this my bio mom passed and i have a stepmother!!!#she does not fill that void and i do not expect her to because it cannot be filled. but she brings a lot new to ease the pain and is a#wonderful part of my life#the same thing here#mango will never ever just .. go back to how he was#he will never be the same since gold died. and thats okay#purple will not change that. they will merely add something new#their dynamic can be beautiful and nontraditional and a showing of how grief can change you#it doesnt have to be ‘replacement dad and replacement son’#its so much more#oke. tag rant over#fett rambles#ava#uhh should i tag the chars
44 notes · View notes
skyburger · 2 months
Text
"fnaf is the scariest game ever" "no its silent hill" "well i think its resident evil" everyone shut up!!!!!! youre all wrong. its actually zack & wiki quest for barbaros' treasure (on the nintendo wii) but only the level "keeper of the ice". that level scared me so bad as a kid and you can tell because its the only individual level i remember the name of off the top of my head. like there is nothing scarier than a) being chased and b) being on a time limit. and you know what this level has? BOTH OF THOSE. this level is still scary to me im like AHHHHH!!!! and then i die
#i had to google horror games after i thought really hard for silent hill and fnaf#because like. resident evil is just not a horror game in my mind... its just cool zombie game...#to be fair though. the only one i actually played a portion of was re6 which is probably the least scary one in the whole series#anyway do the kids still find silent hill and fnaf scary. i dont know.#well the former id say yes given how prevalent ps1 horror has been in recent years#fnaf i have no idea. im a massive wuss so its scary when i play it for myself#but watching someone else play them especially when i know them well isnt scary#and ive watched fnaf videos for YEARS#so i dont know. (old man voice) these damn kids... back in my day we watched markiplier scream at freddy fazbear and we LIKED it!#anyway its objectively a horror game and thata literally fine thats all i needed for this post#MY POINT HERE. my point here#IS THAT HIT ZACK AND WIKI LEVEL KEEPER OF THE ICE. IS SOOOOO SCARY#its not that scary but i see tjat level and im like 3 years old making my mom play this level for me again#and for the record yes me and my sister really did make our mom help us with z&w#she remembers helping us with frost breath the most because we like did notttttt get that one at all#and she could never remember how to do the mirrors based on what combination of stands is there (because tjeres like a few variations)#so she always had to look up a guide 😭😭#my poor mother on fucking gamefaqs or something in like 2010... legends only#anyway if you have no idea what level im talking about (any of my oomfs reading this that isnt end) (hi end) PLEASE look up this level#and i need you to think of like a 5(?) year old making her mom play this game.#this aforementioned child is still a massive wuss as an adult btw. some things never change#anyway watch that level and think about how someone like me. whos already a scaredy cat!#imagine how someone like me felt at age 5 possibly younger playing this level#I WISH I COULD LIKE CONVEY EMOTIONS OVER TUMBLR. why cant i attach a .emotion file to this post#anyway ramble over <- hes said that like a million times today#scariest level in a game ever...!!!!! FUCK that keeper of the ice bitch im GLAD he died#muffin mumbles
5 notes · View notes
flowerflamestars · 2 years
Text
Robin fic snippet
It went so much worse than Dick anticipated.
He was late, for one thing, arrived still pulling on his jacket to find Damien already looking down on Eleanor. Literally, down- at sixteen Dami was already making it clear he was going to grow into a Bruce-level height, awkward stretched limbs and just beginning to emerge cheekbones that made him look like a paused time-lapse.   “You.”
“Me,” Eleanor had answered, hands shoved deep into yet another perfect coat, combat boots teetering platforms just high enough to raise her to level with Dami’s chin.
Damien, after a long pause, nodded.  Held out his arm in the perfect, immaculate, out of time courtesy he’d been capable since he was a small child and largely refused to bother utilizing.   She took his elbow.   Neither of them had any use for Dick, for the rest of night.   “She threatened his math teacher,” Dick recounted, hysteric, face smashed to Llewellyn’s hip the next morning.   Cool fingers carded into his hair, furthering the slow melt of Dick’s body boneless. “The homophobic math teacher?”   “I left them alone for ten minutes,” Dick tried to explain, “And Dami picked out a roster of combat instructors for her. B is still trying to figure out why he bought roundtrip tickets to Paris for fall break.”   Llewellyn hummed, low in his throat. Leaned down and carefully slotted his mouth to line of Dick’s shoulder, kissing softly scarred skin. “Who’s in Paris?”   “An assassin,” Dick muttered, “Who killed our sister, once.”   The Lady Shiva, Dami had dropped, out of goddamn nowhere.
12 notes · View notes
rockfact · 1 year
Text
i think im gonna not watch post covid when i get there and just. pretend <3
3 notes · View notes
lightningwaters · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
ezra-and-the-sun · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
A Leyendecker study ft. 2 beloved characters, as one does.
1 note · View note
luveline · 3 months
Text
(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧
Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 
cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 
A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 
“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 
“I wanna see Max.” 
“She has to be here somewhere.” 
That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 
Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 
Steve frowns at you worriedly. 
“Who died?” asks a new voice.
You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 
“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 
“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”
“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 
“Is it awful?” you ask. 
“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 
“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 
“Dustin. He’s outside.” 
Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 
He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 
“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.
You school your impression. “Like what?” 
“Like you like him.” 
You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 
She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 
“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 
“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 
“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 
“He was touching you a lot.” 
“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 
“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 
“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 
“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 
You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 
“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 
Oh, boy, you think. 
As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.
From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 
Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 
“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 
“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.
“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 
“Steve.” 
“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 
“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 
“What?” he asks. 
His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 
You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 
“Are you okay?” 
“What?” 
“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 
“I sounded weird?” 
“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 
You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 
“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 
“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 
Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 
You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 
After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 
“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 
You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 
“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 
He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 
“You were in the way of the light.” 
“That what it was?”
“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 
“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 
Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 
“It’s good.” 
“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 
He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 
Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 
You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 
You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 
He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 
You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 
“You okay?” he whispers. 
You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 
Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.
The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 
A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 
“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“I really like you, Steve.” 
He stares at you. “…But?”
“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 
“I thought…” And of course he did. 
“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 
He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 
“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 
“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 
“Yeah.” 
Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 
“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”
“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 
“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 
“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 
“I like you too!” he says loudly. 
A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 
You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 
“You okay?” he asks tightly. 
“I’m sorry.”
He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 
You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 
He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 
“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 
You nod vehemently. 
Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”
—♡—
The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 
A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.
“I think I might melt.” 
“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 
“You can be my parasol.” 
“Your what?” 
“It’s a sun umbrella.” 
“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 
You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.
He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 
If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 
“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 
He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 
“That’s perfect.” 
“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 
“No… I’m thinking.” 
“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 
“I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 
You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 
“It’s a question.” 
He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 
“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 
“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”
He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 
“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 
His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 
“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 
“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 
His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 
You tip your head aside to catch your breath.
“Better late than never,” you joke. 
Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️
4K notes · View notes
atrwriting · 5 months
Text
trust me -- billy the kid x barowner!reader
Tumblr media
hi everyone :) sorry I've been MIA — law school has been kicking my #ass but it's ok. I saw the new thg movie and while IAMNOTACORIOSNOWSTAN but I am a t*m bl*th and the man was so fine in this show. so fine. I've only seen like three fics for this man (maybe I just don't know how to search correctly thats probably my fault) but I was SEARCHING FOREVER and then I just got pissed because I couldn't find any so I wrote almost eight thousand words for this man that is how down bad I was
informal warnings: me. 1) I should be put on a leash 2) I use italics way too much 3) and whatever the fuck this "—" is 4) will i ever give up the female bar owner trope 5) will I ever stop tho? [vanilla ice voice] no, I don't know
as always, the actual warnings: smutty smut smut SMUT!, unprotected sex (1880's bby but you still gotta wrap it before you tap it), violence, guns, bit of gore but like the tiniest bit, virgin!reader, p in v sex, oral sex, bit of a dom!billy, bit of a bratty!sub!reader, overstimulation what can I say I should be put on a leash
anyway.... here's trust me:
when your father died… it was hard to be sad. he wasn’t very kind and he never seemed to like you very much… but in his will, being his only surviving kin, he left you money.
a lot of it.
and an old building.
the town it resided in was convenient in the way that many people that were passing through had to stop there. so what did you do? well, the only thing you could do — turn it into a restaurant and boarding house.
the money he left behind was used to fix up the place and pay your employees.
within a few weeks time, your place was up and running with very little vacancy. families and important people were always in your bar or comfortably in their rooms. never had you ever thought someone could be as lucky as you.
until one day. that day.
you worked alongside your employees but flipped between positions. sometimes you were a hostess, ran the front desk, a bartender, or anything else that needed tending to. in response, many people did not know you were the owner — and, therefore, some people treated you like you weren’t.
mainly gross old men, which you could handle. however, when a young, strong, and tall man challenged you?
that was dangerous. too dangerous.
even a fake wedding ring didn’t steer them away.
on that day, a young blacksmith had found his way into your bar. he was handsy with you much of the night, and you tried your best to steer him away. it wasn’t until you pulled a knife on him that he finally let up. it didn’t look like anyone saw, but still — you were scared and worried. would people think you classless, for pulling a knife on a patron? would they see you as weak? would they notice that the alcohol you served brought in too rowdy of a crowd? would they stop venturing in?
you thought no one noticed, and tried to convince yourself of that fact — but you were wrong.
when you were closing for the night, mostly everyone had left. a small group of men usually stayed until close — and you didn’t mind. they drank well, paid their tab, and were mostly quiet and polite. you didn’t know any of their names — but it was usually bad when you did know a patron’s name, so you liked them.
you had your back turned to the front of the bar, stacking bottles, when someone cleared their throat from behind you.
“ma’am?”
you turned around.
a tall, fair skinned man with a hat stood before you. his clothes were old and worn, and his fingernails reflected that he was a hard worker during the day. that type of exhaustion was also reflected in his eyes.
but, damn... his face? no one could deny that that man was handsome.
you smiled. “another drink, sir?”
“no. thank you.” he paused for a moment, keeping your gaze. “i wanted to check if you were alright.”
you immediately knew what he was talking about, but kept your face stoic. “yes, sir, thank you.”
he looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled with how to word it. “he usually a problem?”
you clenched your jaw. “he’s… he’s fine. too much drink, ‘s’all. gets the best of working men. can’t blame ‘em.” you swallowed, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. who was this man and why did he care? was he a friend of the man? “you sure there’s nothing i can’t get for you?”
“some wouldn't blame ‘em.” he ignored your question. his bright blue eyes held your gaze. “i would.”
you forced a tight lipped smile. with a laugh, you joked, “i’ll… be fine, sir. thank you. thought a fake wedding ring would do the trick… gotta think of something else now.”
he smiled, but in a sad way. “i was going to ask if your husband ever checked in on the place.”
“no husband,” you affirmed with a sigh. you introduced yourself, and then asked, “what’s your name?”
“william h. bonney, ma’am… but you can call me billy.”
“nice to meet you, billy,” you smiled. “and, please — don’t call me ma’am.”
“alright.” he returned your smile. “the men behind me… we run a sort of — security detail for part time work. if you ever wanted to hire us, we could have a man here when we can spare.”
you nodded, contemplating your offer. he explained the per diem, and you immediately agreed.
“if your man can keep this place safe with little bloodshed, i’ll even throw in a free bottle a day,” you countered.
and that was how your business with billy the kid and his men began.
the men that came along were usually polite and quiet, and mostly stayed at the edge of the bar. they watched for problems, and slowly but surely your fear had begun to subside. there was a minor scuffle one day, where a man had cracked a glass and cut you with it… but billy’s man had stopped him before he could do anything else. you didn’t hold it against billy’s guy — you cared about your business and if the business got bloody, not so much yourself.
billy, on the other hand… did not agree.
one day, bright and early, he parked himself at the middle of the bar where you stood behind the counter.
“rarely see you for detail,” you smiled, wiping down a glass. “much less this early. breakfast, mr. bonney?”
“billy, ma’am,” he responded. “breakfast does sound fine.”
you laughed. “i hate when you call me ma’am.”
“don’t much like it when you call me mister,” he quirked an eyebrow. billy was a rather emotionless and hard man, but you could tell he was joking.
you laughed again. “steak and eggs for billy, coming right up.”
the rest of the day went on peacefully, and you kept billy’s glass full. he was quiet and didn’t talk much, which you weren’t too keen about. he was mysterious, tall, dark and handsome — which was usually a bad combination. you knew it was, and you should’ve cared — but you didn’t.
as you were filling billy’s glass into the later hours of the afternoon, you finally bucked up the courage to ask him a question.
“so why did you stop in today?” you asked. “not that i mind. i just have only seen you when you come in at night.”
“we made a deal, sweetheart,” he responded. your eyes perked up at the nickname. you didn’t hate the nickname — but you hated yourself a wee bit for how much you liked hearing billy call you it. “the man i sent here was supposed to make sure he kept you from harm — he didn’t hold up his end on the deal.”
“it was kept quiet from the other patrons,” you responded. “that’s all i really care about. i’m a woman in the restaurant and boardinghouse business — stuff like that is bound to happen. no need to be hard on him.”
“you keep my men’s glasses too full for them to let slip ups like that happen,” he replied. “he knew better. should've acted better.”
“you’re the boss, billy,” you sighed with a smile. “i’m just the bartender.”
“damn good bartender at that,” he spoke. “too good.”
you giggled, and grew ashamed rather quickly at how much you enjoyed his company. you didn’t know him well, no… but damn, was it nice to have him around.
the rest of the night was rather quiet. a few families had stepped in and out, and a few meetings were being held where the tables sat. that was until the blacksmith that started this whole thing came in and sat himself only a stool away from billy.
you threw a look at billy, but he didn’t meet your eyes. his peripheral vision was already on the man. billy remembered him, and you couldn’t say fondly.
“whiskey, sweetheart,” he grunted. “leave the bottle.”
you sighed. a quiet day was going to turn into a rough night in a matter of a few moments.
“mr. martin, i can’t leave the bottle unless you settle your tab from the nights prior,” you answered. “i can get you a double and add it on, though, if that’s alright with you?”
“that’s not alright with me, girl,” he grunted again, glaring you down. “leave the damn bottle!”
you stood your ground. “there’s a bar across the street, mr. martin.”
“you don’t want my business, that it, sweetheart?”
“not much business if you don’t pay," you quipped.
through gritted teeth, he spat, “leave. the damn. bottle.”
“pay. the. tab.”
he went to catch you by the arm, but you were too quick. you anticipated his antics this time. you snatched an empty bottle, and broke the base of it in the sink. you put the broken, jagged edge of the neck of the bottle in between the two of you. your eyes were wild — you could feel it, and both men could definitely see it. startled, he drew back.
“this is the only bottle you’re getting with that attitude.”
that was when billy stood up and walked towards the man. the thuds of his boots, though few considering the short distance, were deafening in the mostly silent bar. you may have had a makeshift weapon, but billy? billy the kid? everyone knew what he had on him.
“time for you to leave, friend.”
the man laughed. “friend? who’s my friend to tell me when i need to leave?”
“the one who’s a quicker draw than you, that's who." his answer was slow and cool — too calm, which only made the shiver of a threat run up and down your spine faster.
the man, all talk, clenched his jaw as he stared at billy. he slapped the tab money on the top of the bar, and walked out.
you didn’t let out a sigh of relief until the man left.
but billy was the one that spoke first. “was going to step in immediately… but you held your own. they need to respect you before they’re scared of me.”
you laughed. “little does he know i’m all talk as well.”
“with that bottle?” he chuckled. “sweetheart, even i was scared.”
“you threatened him with a gun… i don’t think anything scares you, billy,” you asked. “thank you for stepping in.”
“‘s my job.”
“i know… but still,” you spoke.
you were continuing to close before he spoke again.
“what made you want to start this place?” he asked.
“my father passed a few moons before i opened this place,” you responded. “no parents, no husband — thought i might try this out.”
“my ma wanted to start a place like this,” he replied. “never got the chance.”
you nodded with a sad smile. “didn’t know her… but i think she’d be proud of how you handled that. don’t think he’ll be much trouble anymore.”
“she’d think i’m trouble with how full the lovely bartender keeps my glass,” he spoke, but looked like he instantly regretted it. “my apologies, i shouldn’t’ve — the whiskey —“
“you’re fine,” you laughed, your blush pinching your cheeks. as you walked away, you threw over your shoulder, “hopefully your ma wouldn’t mind that i keep her son’s glass full for his good work… nor that i think her son’s handsome.”
from that day forward, billy was always the man who sat at your bar.
he always greeted and made pleasant conversation with you, and glared at any man that got too aggressive with you. if looks could kill… billy would never need what he held in his holster.
you’d giggle to yourself after the creepy men would walk away. you’d never know… but when billy would hear your giggle afterwards, he’d smile, too.
but he kept that to himself.
however, slowly… he was becoming more comfortable with your company.
“so why didn’t you marry?” he one day asked randomly.
you were wiping down a glass when you got lost in the thought. “when there’s a nice one that’s interested… maybe. haven’t already because there aren’t very many nice ones. it was very convenient when you started keeping the bad ones away.”
to your dismay, he didn’t say anything in response.
but you had gotten comfortable with his company, too. too comfortable.
“and why isn’t there a mrs. bonney, billy?”
“she’d get jealous about how much time i spend with you,” he responded.
there was very little emotion in his voice, and you were afraid of reading into what he was saying. was he returning your flirtations? was he telling you that you were a drag? to answer your own question, you jokingly said, “well if i’m too much trouble, mr. bonney, you are more than welcome to have another one of your men step in.”
“well, ma’am —“ he began. “then i’d get jealous of how much time they were spending with you.”
you couldn’t hide the blush that rose into your cheeks. billy looked upon your face with a small smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze didn’t waver.
“keep talking like that, billy, and i’ll become trouble for you,” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“can’t say i’d mind much,” he responded, taking a sip of his glass, but holding eye contact with you.
if you weren’t frozen, you would’ve pulled yourself over the bar right then and then and planted yourself in his lap. you would’ve flung his glass to the floor, and wouldn’t have cleaned it up until you had kissed every inch of that man. you would’ve responded, but you couldn’t...
that was when billy’s men had stepped into the bar.
the air immediately darkened. the blonde one, named jesse, had led the pack as they stalked in. billy immediately flipped around to see what the problem was.
“sweetheart, give us a minute,” billy asked, calling over his shoulder.
billy never gave you orders, let alone in your own bar. however, if he was asking you to… you figured you should probably listen. you left the bar and went into the back. most of your employees had left for the night, so you helped the remaining ones clean up. it would be a few minutes or so before billy had come back into the kitchen to find you. you went back into the bar with him.
“i’ll be back before you close,” he spoke. “lock the doors.”
a second order. something he never did in the first place. something was wrong. you didn’t pry… you just scrunched your eyebrows in response.
“something’s up,” he spoke. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before he turned to leave. “i’m takin’ care of it.”
there you stood, absolutely stunned. billy and his men left the bar with haste and didn’t look back. you, on the other hand, stood frozen… unable to leave the spot where you had billy the kid, known for his deadly skills, kiss you on the cheek.
you finally moved, reluctantly, but only to close up.
it would be close to an hour before billy finally came back. a few of his friends came with him, and they dragged in a man on their shoulder who was grunting in pain. blood was pouring from his leg, and you immediately went for the medical supplies you kept hidden under the counter. you grabbed two bottles of whiskey for good measure, arguably also a part of your makeshift kit.
“put him down on the table,” you gushed. his men were stunned to see you hustling, but they didn’t hesitate to rest their friend. you immediately took a look at the man’s leg, and were thankful to see that there would be no permanent damage. you shoved a bottle at jesse, and stated, “make him drink this.”
jesse had unscrewed the bottle and helped his friend drink before you fished out the bullet. thankfully no arteries were punctured, but it would be some time before he was good again. you cleaned up the man the best you could, and asked if any of the men needed anything.
“no, ma’am…” jesse responded. “we were going to bring him here and do it ourselves, your place was closest… so thank you.”
you smiled at him. “take the bottles. need it more than me.”
he tipped his hat to you.
“jesse,” billy began. “you and the boys head home.”
without question, jesse nodded. they helped their friend to his feet and left with a goodbye. even though they left, the unsettling feeling of the room hadn’t changed. billy seemed… different. heavier. he wasn’t the same man that had kissed you on the cheek before he had left.
you turned to him. “i won’t pry, but —“
“good,” he spat, turning to you. billy’s eyes bore into yours like you were one of the problem men at your bar. “don’t.”
a look of hurt flashed across your face. you could feel it. “you’re looking at me like i did something.”
“i told you to lock the door,” he spat again, his look of anger unwavering.
you had only seen billy's eyes that wide and that angry when there was someone being cruel to you. the thought made you shiver.
“how would you have gotten back in?” you asked.
“knocked,” he bit.
you narrowed your eyes at his curt response. “i had a feeling something was wrong. if i had waited to unlock, i couldn’t have gotten that bullet out as fast as i did.”
“doesn’t matter,” he bit. “how am i supposed to keep you safe if you won’t listen to me?”
you scrunched your brows together in confusion. “billy… whatever happened where you were, it wasn’t here. i could’ve gone to bed… but i stayed up. waiting for you.”
“and what if someone came in, huh? what then?” he hollered. “what would you have done then?! what would i have done if you had gotten hurt?”
you shook your head in disbelief. you couldn’t believe billy was speaking to you with such disdain. “with the way you’re talking to me, billy — sounds like you’re used to women who don’t pull knives on creepy men, hold broke bottles to their necks — or fish bullets out of legs when i don’t know why he was shot in the first place. you’re used to those kind of women, and have a problem with me? maybe you should go back to them.”
you immediately turned away from him, beginning to walk towards the bar. billy was hot on your heels when he reached out to grab your wrist and turned you around.
he grabbed both sides of your face and pressed his lips to yours.
you wanted to scream at him, throw fists at his chest, push him away — anything to let you know how he hurt you, how he wronged you... but you couldn't.
no. you couldn't.
you were so stunned you stood frozen in place as his lips moved against yours. you loosely held his wrists in your hands, and kissed him back.
“don’t want those girls, darlin’,” he spoke, breathless, in between kisses. “knew you were a real woman the first time i saw you. the kind that puts the fear of god into you, but looks at you with such a sweetness in her eyes that you can’t look away.”
“better believe it, bonney,” you spat, half joking. “you’ve seen how quick i am.”
“i know, darlin’, i know,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “i also know i was wrong to speak to you the way i did.”
“shut your damn mouth and kiss me,” you replied, pulling him closer to you.
“yes, ma’am,” he playfully responded, and you slapped his shoulder.
billy had backed you up against the wall and pressed his body towards yours. you stood on your toes to reach him, and even then he had to lean down a foot or two.
“billy…” you began, pulling away. “i’ve never… but if you wouldn’t think less of me, we could go upstairs. to my room.”
“i’d never think less of you,” he spoke, shaking off your comment. “but… what’d’ya mean, ‘never?’”
“i’ve never been with a man, billy,” you responded, suddenly embarrassed.
he was quiet for a moment, before stating, “you sure you want it to be with me?”
you nodded. “if… if you want to, that is.”
he didn’t respond to your statement, he just kissed you. he kissed you with every emotion you didn’t think he ever possessed — raw, hot, desperate emotion that held you close and tight to him. the heat and the intensity made your brain swim, but you could only care so much when billy the fucking kid wanted you.
he slipped an arm around your shoulders and then underneath your knees before he picked you up. you bit back a squeal before you threw your arms around his neck.
“light as a feather, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he spoke.
“all that steak i been feeding you?” you joked.
“my belt can’t help it if my woman feeds me well,” he replied, almost at the top of the stairs.
“you’re a flirt,” you giggled.
you pointed him towards your room. once in, he laid you down on the bed and laid on top of you. his body was warm and sturdy over yours, and you couldn’t help but feel warm. his hips were pressed against yours, but you couldn’t feel him through your dress. you grew frustrated at the thought.
you made quick work to undue his shirt, and billy was quick to catch on. he pulled away to take off his shirt, and you tried to take off your corset with his help.
“damn death trap,” he spat, fussing.
you giggled. he was cute when he was flustered, but nothing compared to the way he was looking hungrily down at you. you were completely bare before him, and you should’ve been embarrassed… but shame wasn’t present in this moment. the only thing you registered was how billy looked down at you — with adoration in his eyes as they raked down your naked form.
“will you…” you began. “will you show me… how to please… you?”
“another time, sweetheart,” he spoke, stealing a quick kiss from you. “i need my head between those legs of yours.”
“you-you don’t have to —“ you spoke. “i know that’s not something — that boys —“
“yeah — boys.” billy snapped, glaring at you. “real men want to taste their women.”
that shut you right up.
billy wedged himself in between your thighs and spread your folds. it caused a sharp intake of breath on your part, but you didn’t realize what you were in for. billy flattened his tongue, and licked a long stripe up your slit. your teeth sank into your lip at the foreign feeling that cause so much warmth to make your veins twitch.
…but when billy’s nose had nudged a specific spot at the top of your slit — your legs jerked.
“what — what —“ you stammered.
“shh,” billy cooed, slightly laughing. “i forgot how sensitive you were. my apologies, sweetheart.”
you trusted billy, sure, but you had never felt anything like that before in your life. the jerking motion of your legs was involuntary and made you fearful. billy could see the fear written on your face.
“that spot that i touched, that you felt?” he asked.
his eyes were so wide and meaningful you felt like you could melt in them. you brought yourself up to your elbows and hummed in acknowledgement.
“that is the most sensitive part of a woman, and if i play it just right —“ ever so lightly, you felt his middle finger and ring finger touch the spot. you shivered at the feeling, but you didn’t flinch like last time. you held his gaze as the warmth began to spread inside you. “i can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”
billy bent over your body and held himself up with extended arm planted firmly by your side. he swiped the two fingers over his tongue to lubricate them, and brought them right back to where they were. you both watched his fingers play at the most sensitive part of you, and your lip began to quiver.
“look at me, sweetheart.”
your eyes glanced back up to him.
like you thought before, if angry looks could kill… anyone would die by just a look from billy the kid. however, what would they say about the way he’s looking at you now? with his plump lips parted, and his eyes wild and hungry? you didn't know... but you knew you would find out.
“y’trust me?” he asked.
you hummed in agreement, nodding.
“say it.”
you sharply inhaled, caught off guard by his order. “yes, billy — i trust you.”
instead of leaning back down to plunge his face in between your thighs, he kissed you. his lips connected with yours in one of the most dominating ways you ever thought a man could. with his hand playing between your thighs, he swallowed every moan and cry you struggled to keep hidden inside of you. billy was breathing hard against you — relishing in how it felt to have you so vulnerable and close to him.
that was when his fingers picked up speed.
and, god… did it feel damn good.
“b-billy,” you whimpered. “feels…”
“still trust me?”
“yes,” you cried, screwing your eyes shut. “yes, it’s just…”
he leaned his head down so his mouth was right by your ear. his breaths were hot against your ear, and you hummed at the feeling. your hand played with the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at the roots.
“fuck — you takin’ what i’m givin’ to you, darlin’,” he rasped, then continued, “drives me insane.”
you could barely hear what he was saying, nor could you respond. your head was swimming with the weight of billy so close to your naked body, holding you down and safe, with those skilled fingers of his working you like you were a damn trigger. you were a whimpering, crying mess — and billy loved every second of it.
“something — feels —“
“d’ya want me to stop?” he asked, breathless.
“no,” you whimpered, confused how the warmth inside you felt like it was going, going, going. you didn’t know where it started, where it was going, and definitely didn’t know where it ended. you were worried that you were going to explode — but you didn’t understand. “something feels — like i’m — i’m going —“
“let it happen, sweetheart.” his kisses were wet and sloppy along the skin of your throat. he nipped at the skin, and that only sent you into more of a frenzy. “that’s right, darlin’. that’s it. trust me. i’ve got you.”
and that was it.
the thing — billy’s words, that sent you toppling over whatever metaphorical edge you could think of to describe it. it felt like white, hot sparks went off behind your closed eyelids and were going off on every nerve ending in your body. whimpers left your bitten lips like you were a babe, and your back arched off the bed. distantly, you could hear billy cooing with excitement, laughter… and praise.
a light sheen of sweat was on both of you, and billy had never looked better. his musk was wafting through the air and had completely taken over your senses. you felt like the only thing in the room was billy and the only thing in the world that mattered was billy. men got drunk off whiskey, but you? you got drunk off of that pure, unfiltered scent and look of a masculine man who showed you how to experience the pleasure of a woman you had never known.
“fuck…” you whimpered as you came down from your high. you tried pushing billy’s hand away, but you were so weak you didn’t think you could.
“sorry, darlin’,” he laughed, kissing your throat again. “got selfish. wanted to keep seeing that pretty look on your face.”
it was difficult for you to find words, let alone enough for an adequate response. “billy… that… that felt…”
“i’m gonna be trouble for you now.” he stole a kiss. “nothing better than seeing you below me, like that…”
“i want you to feel good, too,” you began. “please, billy? i wanna see you, too.”
his lips formed a tight line. “i don’t want it to hurt you.”
“first time doesn’t always hurt,” you spoke. “no one says the second time hurts.”
he smiled at that, and began to roll on top of you. you stopped him, and gestured for him to sit up against the headboard. he was hesitant at first, but he did it anyway. you hovered your hips above his before licking one of your palms and gliding it over the tip of his length. you stroked him a few times, and a soft moan left his lips at the feeling.
“i can keep going,” you spoke, throwing a sultry look up at him. “i want to make you feel good.”
“no, doll,” he rasped. “too selfish. need to see that pretty face of yours do what it does again.”
you pouted for a short moment before you lifted your hips above his length and began to sink down. you could feel a slick leaking from your folds, which made you feel better about actually getting him inside you.
“go slow,” he ordered suddenly. “you stop if it hurts, got it?”
you nodded, half ignoring him.
but it didn’t hurt.
the first inch didn’t hurt. the second didn’t. the third, the fourth, the fifth, sixth, — you lost count. billy was so big and filled you so nicely that you were so greedy with how you sank down into him. you couldn’t have cared less about what he said before about going slow — all you needed was to feel all of him completely.
“you didn’t listen —“ he grunted, slightly mad. “you’re so lucky you feel good, fuck — you’re so tight —“
“so what if i didn’t listen, mr. bonney?” you smiled coyly at him, a sudden bout of confidence coming over you. maybe it was the post orgasm glow, maybe it was the new feeling of having the most perfect man inside of you — you weren’t sure. “you feel — so good.”
“don’t get bold on me, sweetheart,” he smirked.
you didn’t listen. you picked up your pace, rocking your hips back and forth to what felt good inside of you.
billy’s cock liked that, sure — but he didn’t. you could see the mental turmoil on his face as his neglected cock was finally getting the attention it deserved, but his hothead person didn’t like that his girl was getting smart on him.
that was when billy flipped you over onto your back, much to your dismay. you liked putting on a show for him and doing all the work for a change.
“you wanna act like that, darlin’, huh?” he asked in your ear with a raspy, lust filled voice. “not gonna listen to me?”
“it just felt so good, billy, please —“ you were whining at this point, pissed he had taken away that feeling.
“oh, you’re a greedy thing, that right?” he taunted. “gets one fuckin’ taste, and now she can’t get enough?”
you shook your head, desperate for something — anything. “so greedy, baby. please, billy — please just fuck me.”
his hips snapped against you. hard.
maybe it should’ve hurt — but fucking christ, it didn’t. it felt so good to have his strong, forceful hips thrust against yours and hit that spot so deep inside of you.
“you like that?” he asked, taunting you. “that’s what my greedy girl wanted? — needed?”
his hips were relentlessly snapping against yours now as he hovered above you by holding himself up on his elbows. the sight of his broad and strong chest and shoulders… enough to make any woman weak. a firm crease was in his brow, signaling he was struggling to keep up his mean persona.
“yes — yes —“ you cried. “billy, you’re so deep — it feels — fuck, you can’t stop billy. please —“
“sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “squeezing me so tight.”
“right there — that’s the spot, baby,” you bit your lip to keep your voice down.
billy leaned his forehead against yours, and his exhales fanned against your face. little moans were escaping his lips as well, but nothing like yours. instead, he spat, “couldn’t let me be nice to you and fuck you sweet, huh? had to get smart on me?”
you could barely hear him. billy’s usual raspy, and commanding voice was enough to make anyone stand at attention — but now? now you were some cockdrunk whore who didn’t care how she got what she wanted, only that she did. his thrust were hard and fast, hitting a deep spot in you that was making that warmth swell up in you again.
“didn’t want sweet, billy,” you whimpered. “wanted you to use me just like this.”
you weren’t sure what came over you — and billy wasn’t sure either. his thrusts didn’t falter, but he couldn’t understand how the pretty, innocent looking bartender could be so fucking naughty — but only for him. a sense of pride had never welled up inside him like that before, knowing that he was the only one who got to see the prettiest girl in town keen for someone’s touch like this.
his touch. only his touch.
“gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he spat against your ear. “should’ve known you’d be such a good girl for me — taking my cock like this. can you cum around my cock like this? gonna be the best girl — and show me how that pussy tightens around me?”
the curse words billy drew from you were not your sunday best, but they made billy’s guttural groans against your throat and ear that much more enticing. you were both covered in sweat, spit, and slick — and nothing had ever felt better. you were close, so close — and all you wanted was to see him finish so you could see it for yourself.
“billy, i’m so close —“ you cried. “but i wanna —i wanna see you —“
“shhh,” he cooed. “gonna take what i give you, sweet girl.”
he sent a hand in between your bodies, and started playing with that spot that had made you explode the last time. you almost protested, but there was nothing like having a man buried so deep inside you do whatever he could to make sure you felt the best you could. you whined, you cried, you screamed, fuck — you did everything to let him know that you were close, billy, i’m so close, please, i’m begging, please don’t stop, and billy refused to look away from your beautiful face as you came undone below him once more.
with your beautiful hair fanned out around you, billy thought you looked ethereal as your second orgasm overtook you. there was something about the way your eyes fluttered softly closed, but broken gasps left your lips like you were so far gone in pleasure that you were lost in it. here, beneath him, before him, was a woman he had spent so much time protecting, so worried about her safety… all he wanted to do was make her feel good. when your limbs began to quiver, knowing you were so deep in your orgasm that you were at the peak, billy couldn’t help himself. he knew you were sensitive, he knew how it would be too much, he knew he shouldn't — but he had to. he was so, so selfish with his greedy girl.
his fingers kept spinning circles on your pink rosebud, and it was like the white light behind your eyes couldn’t stop. you were gasping for air — begging, pleading, hoping, wishing. it was so much. it was too much. it was everything and anything all at once, and you didn’t realize how far you were falling until tears leaked from your eyes.
he should've hated himself for making you feel so lost, but he didn't. not one bit.
“billy —“ you cried, shaking. “i’m so — so sensitive —“
he engulfed you into a long kiss, smiling smugly against your lips. you would’ve laughed with him, but you were so weak. so, so weak. he knew how sensitive you were, and stopped his movements completely. you didn’t realize he hadn’t finished with you until he began to pull out of you.
“billy — you didn’t —“
“s’alright, darlin’—“
“no, it’s not,” you said firmly. “teach me how to do — that thing.”
“that... thing?”
“with my mouth.”
he hesitated before shaking his head. “i don’t… tonight was a lot — for you.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “boys don’t taste their women, right? men do?”
he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, but nodded anyway.
“and what about real women, billy?” you asked. “you think they like leaving their men unsatisfied?”
his lips parted at a loss. he couldn’t argue with that, could he?
“sit on the edge of the bed,” you spoke, sliding out from under him and finding a place on the floor.
he hesitated, but he didn’t argue with that, either.
you tried to hide your smirk from him.
he'd never tell you he saw it. he also would never tell you he loved it.
"you gonna tell me what to do, or what, cowboy?" you smirked up at him, taunting.
he shook his head, and pursed his lips in a way that he knew you were in over your head. "you're acting bold. let's see if you got a reason to."
you narrowed your eyes at him, but smiled anyway.
you returned your attention to the muscle you were holding in yours hands. it was long and thick — you weren't sure how it fit inside you before, and you definitely weren't sure how you were going to fit it in your mouth.
"too much for you, darlin'?" he quipped.
you shot him a look. "wasn't too much a minute ago, was it?"
you didn't let him respond. you licked the palm of your hand — throwing manners to the wind — and wrapped your hand around the tip and the top of the shaft. you made circular, stroking motions at the top and licked a stripe, like he did to you, up his shaft.
that shut him up.
a long and drawn out fuuuck had left his lips.
you shouldn't've — you knew you shouldn't've.
but you did anyway.
you started to kitten lick at his balls, and you could feel him shift from above you. hot and heavy groans were leaving his lips, to the point where he was incoherent. now that you had found his sweet spot, you'd never let go. just like he didn't.
"fuck, you are naughty," he rasped, voice dry and cracked. "my naughty girl. so good f'me."
you hummed as you wrapped your lips around the skin of his balls. they were warm and salty, and you relished in the taste. billy placed a heavy palm on the back of your head. you realized then and there he was foreign to giving up control — usually you'd give in, but not now. not when he was teasing you before.
you replaced your hand with your lips, and brought him down as far as you could.
from the corner of your eye, you spotted him beginning to fist the sheets.
tears were springing to your eyes, but you didn't care. you wanted to — had to keep going. you wanted this so badly — to take care of him. you needed this, and if he wanted it, too — he was going to give it to you.
you began to bob your head up and down, taking care to mind your gag reflex and teeth. the slurping sounds from your mouth were obscene — as was the drool falling from your lips, down your cheek, and along the skin of your raw neck.
both of billy's hands were on the back of your head now, giving you slightest — almost ghost like — push down. you welcomed it, hoping to show him you could take him far, farther than he thought you could handle.
above, he was going crazy. fucking nuts. his entire body was hot and on fire, and it took every ounce of him to not drag you back up into his lap and impale you on his cock. however... his muscles were tired, and his sweet girl looked so perfect on her knees before him, and who was he to deny her what she wanted so badly — what she earned?
he'd never tell you — but he wanted you to have it more than you wanted it yourself. he wanted you to know that he only felt comfortable enough with you to be in such a vulnerable position like this — pretty woman, teeth so close to his jewels. he wanted you to know that you were setting every nerve, vein, blood vessel on absolute fucking fire with the way your silky tongue slid down the length of his shaft, and the way your tight, warm throat enclosed around his sensitive cock... he wanted you to know how much he adored you, and how much he wanted to give you everything you had ever wanted.
"fuck, sweetheart —" he bit. "I'm so close — you better — pull off —"
"too much for you, cowboy?" she only pulled off for a second, before she put him into the deepest parts of her throat.
the way you teased him set a raw set of anger and adoration through this veins, and he didn't know what to do with it. he was so weak, tired, spent, and fucking horny — he couldn't move, think, or fight back. all he wanted was to cum down this sweet girl's throat and make her his.
"that's it, baby, fuck —" he spat through gritted teeth, the hands on the back of your head encouraging your movements. "right there, right there — fuck."
you held your place, keeping a few inches of him in your mouth. his thick cock throbbed a few times before ropes of white decorated the walls of your throat, and you swallowed every last drop. you pumped him a few more times, for good measure — and also to get back at him for earlier.
"don't be mean to me, baby —" he whined. "come up and lay with me."
you giggled, crawling up the bed to lay next to him.
"gonna tell me how that was?" you asked. "or too proud?"
he chuckled then. his post orgasm glow was so beautiful... for the first time, william h. bonney didn't have a permanent from embedded in his brow. he looked so... peaceful.
"not too proud to admit that was the best I've ever had in my life," he laughed, letting his eyes close. you trailed a hand up and down the soft skin of his chest and stomach before curling up next to him. "going to be proud after i take you to the courthouse tomorrow and make you my wife."
you scoffed at that. "i didn't think cowboys were the settling down type."
"they're not — but i'm no cowboy, sweetheart," he rasped, turning to look at you. "you're it for me — if you'll have me, that is."
you smiled then. a real smile. the type of smile that gave billy hope.
"on one condition," you spoke.
his eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded his head anyway.
"you'll ask me for real in the morning, mr. bonney."
"i'll give you anything you want, mrs. bonney — as long as you're mine."
---
what did we think?? xox
-L
4K notes · View notes
jinjeriffic · 2 months
Text
DPxDC and OOC
I've had a couple of posts cross my dash recently where people lament that a lot of the dpxdc fandom writes characters very OOC and how we're proliferating these characterizations among each other. I figured I'd add my own two cents.
I think the fundamental discrepancy comes from trying to reconcile two canons with vastly different tones.
Danny Phantom is a comedy superhero show operating on cartoon logic. Why do ghost experts Jack and Maddie never realize their own kid is a ghost? Why is the status quo restored at the end of every episode? Why does Danny shoot an ectoblast out of his butt that one time? Because it's funny. It's cartoony action fun where the plot is resolved in 22 minutes, there's never any lasting consequences and it's aimed at kids.
DC meanwhile wants to be taken Seriously. Heroes get beaten within an inch of their life, traumatized, killed and even the good guys do messed up things (often to each other). Yes there's action and puns, but also horrific violence, actions have consequences and it's (mostly) aimed at adults. When a main character dies the comics show their family and friends mourning and things are very dramatic. Even though at this point we, the audience can pretty much expect every death to be undone within 2-5 years of publishing, but I digress.
So how do we, the fanfic/fanart creators reconcile these differences when we make our crossovers? We either make DP more serious and somber, or we make DC more comedic.
Suddenly we have a DP verse where the Fentons' bumbling obliviousness is elevated to serious neglect or outright abuse. The GiW are no longer a minor annoyance, they are a serious threat with genocidal plans and a desire to vivisect the protagonist. When actions have consequences, we imagine Danny as dealing with serious PTSD from having to be a solo superhero and witnessing his family's death that one time (and maybe also getting vivisected). Danny is not just a teen superhero, he's now the Ghost King with serious responsibility on his shoulders.
On the flipside, if we make DC more comedic we tend to exaggerate character traits for comedic effect, focus more on the interpersonal dynamics (especially the Batfam) and have the characters act more casual and silly. Suddenly the Batfam goes from a group of seriously messed up individuals who have trouble communicating with each other and fight all the time to Batdad "Kids if you don't stop killing criminals you won't get dessert ffs" Bruce. Violence is played for laughs instead of taken seriously. Yeah they fight, but they still Love Each Other.
And THIS IS PERFECTLY FINE. It's transformative work! And trying to reconcile these disparate fandoms is hard! Fandom is a labor of love. We do it for free. We do it for our own entertainment. And no one is forcing you to read fics you don't like. DLDR and all that.
2K notes · View notes
Text
ftm trans Eddie Munson gets turned into a chew toy for hell bats and rescued in the 11th hour by his friends who don't know he's trans, who have to run some triage first aid and can hardly make sense of the blood and gore that used to be his body as they cut off his shirt and pants to get access to the worst of the wounds, who definitely aren't in their right minds well enough anyway to think of anything other than stopping the bleeding and getting him to a hospital, which they do, and miraculously Eddie finds himself blinking awake in a bright, fluorescent room feeling exactly like he imagines a chew toy for hell bats would feel in the aftermath which is to say: like shit. Even more miraculously, he finds hometown hero Steve Harrington posted up at his bedside with greasy hair (!!! Eddie never thought he'd see the day) and bags under his eyes.
The overwhelming relief on Steve's face when he sees Eddie is awake is touching, the misty eyes and cracking voice when he says god, i thought you were toast, man are downright flattering and, let's face it, giving Eddie all the wrong ideas that he figures he has an I-almost-died pass for at the moment so he rocks with it, let's himself indulge in the fantasy for a moment. Then, gradually, Steve's relief becomes more and more obviously some brand of deeply felt pity (or sympathy, but Eddie's never been good at distinguishing the two), which bursts his bubble enough to call him out.
"I know I look like what comes out the business end of a meat grinder, but I swear I'm good, dude. They definitely have me on the good shit, I hardly feel it. I'll be good as new in no time." Big fat fucking lie, by the way, but he'll say whatever if it gets that wounded puppy look out of Harrington's eyes.
"I...yeah, Eddie, I'm glad." And whatever it is he doesn't want to say, whatever is putting that you poor motherfucker look on his face, he's absolutely the opposite of subtle about it.
Eddie can hear the manifestation of his panic on the heart monitor.
"What? What is it? Is everyone- is Dustin-?" He can't say it, can't even think it, would rather be slowly torn to shreds all over again than know he failed at his one fucking task to keep the kid safe.
"No! I mean, yes, he's fine, they're all fine. Henderson's got a broken ankle and both of Max's arms are broken but the docs say they'll be fine in a few months with physical therapy."
The release of tension in Eddie's body hurts almost as much as the relief soothes him. "Okay then, what the fuck are you not telling me? It's fine, I'm a big boy, Harrington, I can take it."
He sighs, looking sick with it. "Eds...I don't know how to tell you this."
Oh god, what the fuck. Eddie's right back to freaking out because Steve looks inexplicably guilty, pained in the face like he's about to deliver the worst news he could imagine but if everyone's fine then-
"It's your dick, man. It's- it's gone. The bats-"
And Eddie laughs so hard he tears about a dozen stitches, immediately stops laughing, and throws up over the side of the bed and thankfully not all over his freshly reopened wounds as Steve shouts for help.
Eventually, when he's all stitched up again and barely hanging on to his hard earned lesson to not literally bust his gut laughing about the look on Steve's face (he has to force himself not to tell Wayne the specifics of how he ended up back in the OR, because he's absolutely gonna crack up and Eddie will definitely be unable to help himself from laughing with him), he realizes he's going to come out to all his friends in the very near future because holy shit, he has to tell everyone about Steve's utterly devastated expression at the news of Eddie's Ken doll-ification by way of demobat.
2K notes · View notes
silent-stories · 1 year
Text
𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘
Tumblr media
Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader
Summary: Wayne didn't trust you, until one night.
Warnings: angst, fluff, nightmares
Tumblr media
Wayne Munson just wanted to protect his boy. And that's why he was so reluctant towards you.
It wasn't that he didn't like you, it was that he didn't trust you: after all the years Eddie had spent almost alone in school, you came in the picture. You, saying you cared about him, saying you were interested in the music he listened to and the books he read, saying you loved him.
It all seemed too perfect and Wayne just knew there was something wrong.
Not because he was a bad person, Wayne absolutely wasn't, but because he was afraid you were playing with Eddie's feelings. He was afraid that one day you'd laugh in his face and tell him there was no way a girl like you could ever love someone like him. An outcast. A cult-leader. A freak.
The worst part was that Eddie, on the other hand, was really in love with you. He could see it by the way he talked about you when you weren't around, by his loving gaze when you visited him at the trailer, by the smile that appeared on his lips whenever he mentioned you in a conversation.
Wayne was afraid Eddie would suffer when you left him.
Because he knew you would. It was just a matter of time.
After what had happened in the upside down, after Eddie had almost died (because yes, he knew the whole truth even if he had a hard time believing it at first) he often woke up due to nightmares.
Often he heard the bed creak as if Eddie was tossing and turning in pain, sometimes he heard him talking but never understood what exactly he was saying. He was probably calling your name, the name of girl he was in love with, poor naive boy.
Once, he opened the door to his room slightly, slowly and asked if everything was all right, watching the figure curled up on the bed, his legs drawn up to his chest in a defensive position.
Even in the dark he could clearly see that Eddie was shaking.
It was pretty obvious that no, he wasn't all right. He was far from it.
Eddie told him to go away, that he was fine. Wayne pressed for a while but Eddie didn't seem to want to talk to him. Finally he closed the door and went back to his room, hoping that giving him the space he wanted would help.
He wasn't sure if it had really helped him when he started hearing muffled sobs coming from his room.
He really didn't know what to do. Eddie should have talked to someone about it, vented in some way but he didn't seem to want to do it with him.
He didn't seem to want to talk about it even with you, his "girlfriend". Wayne had expected this too: You wouldn't be there for his boy when he needed it.
After that night, Eddie had locked the door to his room, so even if Wayne wanted to go inside to check, he couldn't.
One night though, Wayne woke up to a noise coming from the room next to his, from Eddie's room.
He sighed running a hand over his face, tired, knowing he was going to have another sleepless night and that Eddie would too.
Thar time though, he heard the door to Eddie's bedroom open and the sound of bare feet making their way down the hallway where the phone was hanging on the wall.
What the hell was he doing?
Wayne got out of bed and headed for the door to his room but, when he was about to open it, he heard Eddie's voice on the other side of the door and stopped.
He knew eavesdropping was wrong, but that didn't stop him.
"Hey, sweetheart."
Wayne realized Eddie called you. At two in the morning.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Eddie whispered, almost as that was all the voice he could get out at the moment.
"Yeah, don't worry. I just... I think I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm sorry, I'm sure I woke you up. Yeah, I told you I'm fine." Eddie muttered, if his words were to sound convincing, he was failing miserably.
He sounded like a kid scared by a thunderstorm, in moments like that Wayne wished Eddie's mom was still there with him, some things really would've been easier.
“No, that's stupid, I shouldn't even have called, you probably just want to sleep and not worry about my dumb problems. It's just…I'm tired, Y/N. I'm so tired and the nightmares won't stop and I… I don't know what to do. Every time, every night I'm there again and there are the bats and the lightning and- and It's hard to sleep without you. I'm scared Y/N. I'm scared they'll never stop, that I'll never be okay." Eddie sniffed.
Was he crying?
"But it's okay. I mean, yeah, I- don't worry and-" he probably stopped to hear what you were saying.
Were you telling him to go fuck himself for calling in the middle of the night? Were you trying to console him? Wayne couldn't know but either way, he didn't trust you. He had never done that.
"No. You don't have to. No, Y/N, no please, really, I-" Eddie stammered before silence fell on the other side of the door.
You hung up the phone. You hung up the phone on Eddie's face when he needed someone to listen to him and when he trusted you enough to call you and talk about how he was feeling.
Wayne knew it would end like this. You never loved Eddie like you said you did, you didn't even care about him or you wouldn't have hung up the phone. Maybe it was a joke all along, "make the freak your boyfriend, make him fall in love and trust you and then leave him when he needs it most and break his heart."
He knew how mean teenagers could be, they always managed to hit where it hurt the most. And, of course that's what you did with Eddie, you played with his heart that had already been broken too many times for someone so young.
He heard Eddie pacing nervously down the short hallway a couple of times, and just as Wayne was about to walk out of the room despite having no idea what to say, he heard the trailer door open and close.
Eddie went out. And Wayne wasn't going to let him spend the night in the cold or whatever that boy was up to.
The older Munson finally came out of his room and made his way to the door Eddie had disappeared through.
He opened it slightly and looked out, finding himself faced with the most unexpected scene he had imagined.
There you were, your car parked in front of the trailer, the door still open, and you were striding towards Eddie.
The sky was dark and moonless, only a few stars were visible, a nearby street lamp allowed the man to see what was happening.
Wayne leaned against the door frame, watching the scene a few feet away from him.
As soon as you reached Eddie you wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed him towards you, he immediately wrapped his arms around your body in a hug Wayne wondered if it could actually break any bones.
Eddie held on to you as if his life depended on it, squeezing the fabric of your shirt with his hands and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as he hugged you, as if having you there in that moment solved all his problems, as if Eddie was okay again just because of your presence.
"I'm here. It's okay, I got you." You said holding him, your voice soft and sincere.
That was the moment Wayne realized he was completely wrong about you, all along.
"You didn't have to come." Eddie whispered, not letting you go.
"But I wanted to." You responded by stepping away from him slightly, cupping his face with your hands and running your thumbs on his cheeks.
"I swear, you are something else." Eddie said with a slight smile. "Thank you for coming, really."
And Wayne, seeing you looking at Eddie as if he was the most precious thing in the world, wondered what had been on his mind every time he doubted your sincerity, every time he thought you didn't really care about Eddie.
You went there in the middle of the night because you knew he needed it, and he didn't even ask you. That was all it took to know that you were a good person. That you were there for his boy.
"I love you." He murmured before bringing his lips to yours in a light but affectionate kiss. Wayne had to look down, feeling he was slipping into a too intimate a moment.
"I love you too." You responded leaning your forehead against his. "And I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you, you know that."
"Do you- think you can stay the night? I understand if you can't- if you don't want to- I mean-"
"Eddie, I've come to stay. I wouldn't leave even if you begged me, right now." You reassured him.
He nodded, leaving a kiss on top of your head. "I love you so much."
You smiled grabbing his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers ready to reenter the trailer.
Your eyes met Wayne's still in the doorway.
Eddie's hand squeezed yours tighter as you reached for him.
"She's spending the night here whether you like it or not." Eddie announced to his uncle.
Wayne looked between you and Eddie, then back to you as you started to talk.
"I'm sorry I showed up here in the middle of the night but I can't leave now, I-"
"I'm sorry I didn't trust you." He finally admitted.
A surprised expression came onto your face.
"I was wrong about you, I was wrong from the start." He said leading you into the trailer.
Eddie smiled at his uncle's words.
"It's okay, I understand where all your resilience came from. Really, don't worry about it." You answered with conviction.
Wayne patted your shoulder. "You are a good kid, thank you for being here."
You smiled again. "You don't have to thank me. None of you have to."
Eddie put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him, up against his Metallica shirt he used to sleep in.
"We're going to sleep, uncle Wayne." Eddie said before heading to his room, dragging you with him.
You turned one last time to Wayne before disappearing behind Eddie's bedroom door. "Good night."
The man's gaze softened even more. "Goodnight kids."
Eddie was in good hands now, he always had been even when Wayne didn't know it.
You were always there, even when Wayne didn't know it. You were family.
Tumblr media
Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7
6K notes · View notes
stubz · 5 months
Text
Injuries and a ship invasion, no one dies
"Why do they let humans take care of our younglings? If it hadn't been for the coalition then it would've been another century till they realize our existence. Their senses have dulled to the point where its laughable that they are the dominating species of their planet. And lets not forget the fact that they're at constant war with each other over the most stupidest things, color of skin, where one lives, who they love, what they believe, etc."
"Calis stop it! Your being a xenophobe. And while some of that is true you should know by now that the humans care deeply for our children."
"I am simply being concerned parent who worries for their young's safety and well-being...we are in a dangerous area right now, the middle of a war zone, and it would make me feel safer if we had some others at the care centre till reinforcements arrive."
"Trust me my brightest, the humans will do everything they can to ensure the safety of our Dali...and knowing them they'll likely surprise you and live up to their reputation."
"...fine, fine, I apologize, you are right. The humans have surprised me so far, what's one more?"
.
..
...
....
"WHERE IS DALI?! WHERE IS MY YOUNGLING CAPTAIN!"
"Calis calm down! Your arm!"
"NO! YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN ENEMY FORCES HAVE INVADED OUR SHIP AND NONE OF US CAN FIND OUR YOUNG!!"
"Calis, your hurt and so is your partner. Think of Gala, they need you right now."
"...Gala is hurt because they were looking for Dali. They got shot because they were heading to the centre...I have to find Dali. For Gala, Captain."
"I'm sure that Kim and Max are doing everything they can to keep them safe."
"With all do respect Captain, how could 2 unarmed humans survive what our force couldn't."
"...I don't know but its probably going to be one hell of a story we'll be telling for the ages. Now go get your arm treated. That's an order."
.
..
...
....
"WE FOUND THEM!"
"CAPTAIN WE FOUND THE YOUNGLINGS!"
"WE NEED A CRANK AND SEND EVERY AVAILABLE MEDIC!"
"oh great stars please no...nonononono DALI!" the Delzah rushed forward, breaking through the search party, only to be stopped by their captain.
"Calis...you have to let them do their job. We, we just have to hope." he could not help the hitch in his breath. Hoping, praying, that his own child was okay underneath the wreckage that was once the youngling care centre.
They fight and thrash until eventually grief overtakes them. They collapse into the captain's arms wailing.
"...what hope do I have that my child is alive under all that rubble. Captain...the only hope I have is that they died quick and that they are with the stars now..."
"Oh Calis..." he sobs. He knows it. There was hardly a chance that anyone was still alive underneath there. Only the strongest younglings who were from a strong species may survive and his child was not one of those few. They were strong but his child was like him...a runt, the joke of the family. Too small, too weak, too soft. She was surely dead...why couldn't it have been him?
"MAPA!"
"PAPA!"
One by one, children emerge from an opening made in the rubble, and at the front of them was Dali and a small feline like child.
"my glorious star" flinging themself from the Captain Calis dragged themself to meet Dali who leaped into their Mapa's arms.
The captain was not too far behind, running to his daughter and cradling her close. Words were not exchanged but Calis could feel the vibrations coming from their purrs.
"See...I told you they would be waiting..."
last to emerge from the rubble was the humans, carried out on stretchers. Only one was conscious. Glass glittered from their skin, dirt and dust blended with vibrant red blood, staining their white bandages, and a rebar was poking out of the unconscious one's side.
"You...got everyone right?"
"Yes, human Max."
"Good...that's good..." and finally did they lose consciousness.
.
..
...
....
"Apparently they covered the windows and hid the kids in the storage room, putting them to the farthest corner while they formed a human wall in front of the door.
When those quiznaking bastards couldn't break down the door they rigged the centre with explosives. Lucky for us the humans personally requested that the storage room be made durable for the equivalent of their disasters on earth so it held up decently well."
"But how did they get so injured?"
"Decently well, meaning the room wasn't completely stable. Eventually the walls started to give and the humans had to improvise by becoming the new pillars. They took shifts until they both had to hold up the weight for what the kids guess to be 3 hours...imagine holding up all of that weight until you were on your hands and knees with rebars, broken glass, and debris piercing into your body."
"...Gala said that Human Max nearly flatlined and Human Kim needed 2 liters of blood."
"You seem confused."
"...Humans are impressive but how did they do all of that? They were already injured and yet managed to hold up a collapsed ceiling for hours until help arrived, I thought they were completely average and even weaker than us."
"Apparently when their loved ones, especially children, are in danger they tap into their more primal instincts. Allowing them to withstand a shot to the side, a slab of concrete to the head, and hours of keeping a ceiling from collapsing until they know everyone is safe.
Heard a story of a human who died only after he saw his kids was safe from a fire."
"Looks like Gala was right. Humans have surprised me once again."
1K notes · View notes
hypewinter · 8 months
Text
Hal bent down as the little girl approached him. Even then, he still managed to tower over her with how small she was.
"Hey there little lady," he said. "Anything I can help you with this fine evening?"
The little girl looked at him anxiously, fiddling with her hands. Ok so not a nervous fan. Hal immediately switched to serious mode, scanning the crowd for anyone who could be her parents. He didn't see anyone running up to the two of them or even so much as keeping a watchful eye from a distance.
"Is something the matter?" Hal questioned, making sure to keep his voice even and calm.
The girl continued fidgeting, her big blue eyes scanning from side to side. Finally she spoke. "You wiff da space po-eece yes? Not da am-ear-ree-ca one?"
Hal smiled at the girl. "Yes, I'm with the space police." Honestly that was oversimplifying the Corps a little but he had long since gotten to citizens calling him a space cop.
The girl offered up a small nervous smile of her own. "So you won't tell da gov-ment what I tell you wight?"
Hal was on high alert now. Just what was this little girl trying to tell him? "I won't tell. I promise," he said after a second.
The girl broke into a big smile at this. "Really? Dis way den." She started tugging Hal along and he began to follow.
"Where exactly are we going?" he asked.
"You see," was all she replied.
Hal was led down a couple different alleyways and was beginning to think he was walking into a trap when they reached an abandoned building. The girl dashed in and up the old rusted stairs, with Hal following closely behind her.
If this really is a trap, I'll never hear the end of it from Batman, he thought morbidly as he cleared the last step. Instead of finding himself facing an ambush however, he saw a boy curled up on an old mattress. The girl was already by his side as Hal approached.
"Don wowee Danny, I got help. Like I said I would," he caught the little girl whispering as he knelt down next to the boy. He had to have been older than the girl. Three years older maybe? Yet he was still so small. Hal took sight of his condition. He was in pain. That much was certain by his little face scrunched up in agony and his quiet moans. He was also sweating profusely. His raven black hair sticking to his forehead. Fever maybe?
Hal continued his observations as he scanned down the boy's body until he got to his stomach. The boy was clutching it and Hal could make out blood bleeding through from underneath. Oh no.
He quickly yet carefully removed the boy's arm to get a better look at the wound. The kid let out a groan as his arm was peeled away. Hal couldn't help but thank Oa for all his training that helped prevent him from letting out a gasp.
The boy's chest was covered in blood. Dark red mixed with flecks of green soaked through his shirt and there were bandages that had been amateurishly tied around the wound.
"How did this happen?" Hal asked, turning back to the girl. He did his best to keep his tone as gentle as possible.
Her smile was gone now, and her eyes welled up with tears. "He pwotected me," she said. "Dey wanted to huwrt us. Dey shot at us. Danny pwotected me."
Anger boiled within Hal. Who would shoot at these children? They were only little kids. If what the girl had said earlier was anything to go off of, the answer had something to do with the government. He would have to take care of that later though. For now, this boy needed medical attention.
"Let's get Danny to a hospital," Hal said resolutely, as he got up.
"No!" the little girl screeched. "No has-pee-tail. Too dan-er-us!"
"But he needs-" Hal started but then he met the girl's eyes. There was abject fear in them. As if going to the hospital would be a death sentence for both children. Where else were they supposed to go though? The boy- Danny needed medical attention stat. That much was certain.
Hal paused. There was one place. He sighed. Batman was going to kill him for this.
"Okay okay. No hospital. But what about space?"
"Space?" the girl repeated.
Hal nodded.
The little girl smiled. "Danny lobes space!"
"Well then. That's perfect."
Hal constructed a new bed for the boy, carefully easing him onto it before putting a protective dome around both children. The little girl giggled as he lifted them up. He then turned to the wall where he created a giant hammer to knock it down. Then they were off. Flying higher and higher, towards the atmosphere. As the Watchtower got closer in sight, Hal couldn't help but groan. Taking civilians to the Watchtower? Oh yeah, Batman was definitely going to kill him.
3K notes · View notes
megumishotgf · 6 months
Text
fic recommendations ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ
Tumblr media
here are some of my favourite fics currently!! yes most of them are smutty because i am a whore!! ♡
featuring: megumi, satoru, suguru, katsuki (+ a little yuuta + mikasa) credits to all these beautiful writers - pls check them out!! masterlist fic recs pt. ii pt. iii
: ̗̀➛ megumi fushiguro x reader
possessive megumi is tired of other men thirsting over you, including toji and satoru (fic: incredible... i come back to this all the time.)
first kiss with gumi leads to another first (fic: smutty but also so intimate i love it)
you ask megumi to rail you after ur ex cheats (he fucks you so good omg. part two of the fic this is the smutty part)
y/n is pregnant and craving donuts (manga spoilers, a little angsty but mostly cute fluff!!)
you worry megumi doesn't love you. he does (don't worry not angsty so cute and fluffy makes my heart swell!!)
late night call w/ gumi who is so crazy in love with you (im crying i love him)
clueless inspired stepcest with gumi (adding this with no shame it's so so good. soft dom gumi my favourite)
"pretend i'm a random girl at a bar coming onto you" (established relationship. so fucking funny and witty. thank u so much author)
finger fucking you until you squirt omfg (i'm going insane)
weed dealer megumi headcanons (smutty towards the end i love this so much)
megumi protects you from an ass then fucks you in his car (i love protective men)
ditching school to blow your nerdy skater boy gumi (school a.u omg!!)
: ̗̀➛ satoru gojo x reader
satoru finds footage of his teen years with suguru, y/n and shoko (angsty fic: this is so beautiful and could make me sob)
mating press with satoru (holy shit... he loses control of his technique cumming inside... i'm in awe)
y/n is suguru's sister and hates toru but eventually they fuck (i was hollering reading this it's so good)
satoru needs help cutting his hair. almost goes bald (this is so funny and heartwarming. a blessing from tumblr)
drunk satoru cries about your pussy being so good then comes home to fuck you good (possibly the best fic i've ever read. wow. he is so obsessed with you)
your clingy situationship w/ satoru (he's so soft and in love...)
: ̗̀➛ suguru geto x reader
suguru lets virgin! satoru fuck his gf (fic: so good holy shit. one of my favourite fics ever. suguru is so soft for his girl)
you're fucking your best friends' father (college a.u!! suguru gets jealous and fucks the brattiness out of you. so so good)
social media au w/ your bf geto!! (so cute and funny!! there is a gojo version too!!)
suguru finds you during your 'sad girl bathtub hours' (comfort!!)
squirting shamelessly in his face (dream)
weed dealer! suguru corrupts you (dumbification kink go crazy)
: ̗̀➛ katsuki bakugo x reader
katsuki doesn't understand how attractive he is (drabble: katsuki is so fine but he only has eyes for you)
you blow katsuki while getting his car washed (taylor swift playing omg? so hot)
your kid shows you a beautiful (ugly) drawing, katuski dies laughing (so fucking funny have you seen the similar tiktok!!)
: ̗̀➛ yuuta okkotsu x reader
vampire! yuuta soothes your period cramps... (u know what this means. incredibly written)
: ̗̀➛ BONUS: mikasa ackerman x reader
drug dealer! mikasa (headcanons: a little smutty, gunplay and robbing men)
: ̗̀➛ multiple characters (drabbles)
jjk men as chubby chasers !! (toji, yuuta, gumi + satoru) (fellow chubby girlies you will go crazy for this)
jjk men + halloween costumes (toji, satoru, nanami + suguru) (so funny and accurate!!)
1K notes · View notes
mr-walkingrainbow · 7 months
Text
CALLING ALL MONSTER HIGH FANS. I JUST MET GARRETT. AND I WAS ABLE TO SCAVENGE SO MUCH LORE AND CONFIRMED HEADCANONS TO YOU. THIS IS ALL SAID BY GARRET OR CONFIRMED. I HAVE SPOKEN TO GOD AND HE HAS SPOKEN BACK
#1. Robecca and Venus were implied and ARE dating!!! He said it was like. Just like other monsters they had tried putting hints and characteristics into monsters that we could see and relate too. (He also said it outright down here. Lol I got all the proof guys!)
2. They never actually came up with Jane Boolittles Origins. And yes Dr. Morou and Dr. Boolittle raised her. But it was always a thing to them they'd say ‘oh well get back to this’. And then they never did. When asked; he genuinely doesn’t remember what they had planned for her.
3. a REALLY big mystery solved and lore dump guys. This one’s juicy. I KNOW HOW SPECTRA DIED. I KNOW HOW SHE DIED. AND WHAT THE TRAUMATIC STORY WAS FOR HER. I ACTUALLY FUCKING KNOW! Y’all ready? Drumroll…. It was, a, CAR CRASH! Yes you heard me. THE VONDERGEIST FAMILY ALL DIED IN A CAR CRASH. I think he said he she just came with her family off skirts and they got into an accident. I’ll reblog this with the video of him saying it!
4. Toralei lives in a monster high housing/boarding building when she is not attending school. This place is used for kids who do not have a place to go too, or if their home is too far to return to easily. I think there was an error somewhere where she mentioned parents? I mentioned that to him and he was very confused/didn’t remember. Reconfirmed that if she wasn’t in the monster high housing area. She would have been in either Jail or The streets.
5. Robecca was not rebuilt for 100 years due to Misogyny. Also because it had to go into the lines of her ‘mysteriously’ disappearing for her to have her comeback. I asked about how it was low key such a dark story, and he mentioned that since technically Monster high was the ‘horror’ genre. He was able to get away with things like that.
6. the Vampire Heart mystery! So remember how in Friday night frights we all see Ghoulia place a Robot Heart into Robeccas chest. Something that is very clearly not the Vampires heart? But then suddenly in Frights camera action it’s there? Well, technically that’s an official Error by the crew. He actually said he noticed it, and told management and stuff like ‘won’t people notice it?’ And they were all like ‘nah it will be fine no one will notice’. But then we all clearly did lol. He also said that because if this, he came up with the idea that the Vampires heart was ENCASED in the Robot heart we saw in Friday night frights. Ergo, explaining how Robecca had two hearts in one body! (It’s also confirmed Hexiciah placed the Vampires heart into her while he was building her. Which would explain why she didn’t remember it was their).
#7. Gooliope Jellingtons Origins. I asked what her origins were. And basically, she DOES NOT have any parents. She was CREATED IN A LAB. Which apparently didn’t treat her right. So she ESCAPED the lab and ran away to the circus! (Or blobbed away?) because he also confirmed, she was the blob. Or based off the blob. She wasn’t actually like. The daughter of the blob. She WAS the blob itself.
#8. Kiyomi Haunterly is Gay! I know this is was already somewhat canon and said before. But I asked and he confirmed it that she was in fact, Gay. And he tried to show it in her diary.
#9. We’re reaching some only implied/supported things. Not fully confirmed or intended. But Kala Mer’ri has BPD. I asked about if she has anything like BPD cause I relate and saw that a lot in her. He replied that he did try to make attributes for each Character specifically so we could related to them like that. And that it was to also make sure every character wasn’t a carbon copy of another. Basically. He didn’t like. Outright say ‘yes. She has bpd’. But he also didn’t disprove it. And he reacted positively to the idea and supported it.
#10. Robecca Steam has ADHD. It’s basically the same as above. Although he did like the note that I (someone with adhd) specifically had the same traits with Robecca, even more specifically, that we both are ALWAYS late. And can never keep track of time to save our unlife.
11. Dedyet DeNile Origins. He actually completely forgot about Cleo’s Mother eventually being reunited. I had asked how she had ended up in that same weird time loop Tomb thag Hexiciah was stuck in. (Which they were eventually freed by Robecca in her SDCC diary). He said he completely forgot about that. And genuinely didn’t remember anything about it. I basically re-explained the whole thing and he was very interested. Unfortunately. Not to much origins to go on.
11. here’s a canon one! What happened to Aamanita Nightshade after she left the DeNiles in the tomb. It was kinda funny, but he basically was like ‘Amanita went up and was just like ‘Peace!’’ And then never came back.’ She goofed around a bit, buuut it wasn’t entirely like her fault? She quickly went back to sleep after breaching the surface. So yeah. She was not awake for long. She quickly went back into flower mode until she woke up again at the Gloom and Bloom party.
12. He’s working on another one of his Monster prints! He sells them on his online shop here
He’s currently working on Toralei!!!!! He said he was working on her on the way over. And that he was trying to go in Order of the G1 doll releases. He mentioned he had only done Skelita out of Order because she was like ‘that one’ who was INSANELY popular with fans when she came out. Especially in Mexico. It’s also why she was the only Funko pop made who was not part of the main ghouls.
13. Random. But he actually didn’t create each backstory individually by himself. In the beginning he did A LOT. Like Frankie was the first backstory he ever created. And it got more help and divided as more and more characters were introduced.
14. he has read every single diary for every monster. Cool little fact cause DAMN theirs a whole bunch of them.
15. everything in the Ghoulfriends book series is CANON in the monster verse.
And that is ALL FOLKS! I had held those questions in for about 7-8 years. So it was everything to me to have them answered and confirmed! I really tried to ask everything that was a huge mystery to us monster folks. And I hope you guys are excited to see all these new CANON facts!!!
I’m sorry if this is not everything. Just like Robecca. I forget stuff pretty easily. I’m wracking my brain for every little detail. Unfortunately my father didn’t record as much as I would have liked. But he did get some perfect key moments! And I’ll make sure to reblog with those moments as proof of confirmation!
I love y’all! Make sure this goes viral so every monster high fan gets to hear the news!
Signing out, I’m Tumblr Spectra Vondergeist, and I report the news.
1K notes · View notes
chaethewriter · 1 year
Text
You're dead to me [1]
Dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader
Tumblr media
In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?
warning: english isn't my first language, angst, fluff, barely proofread, kinda rushed, prologue type of part.
Word count: 1,9k
next chapter
previous chapter
"Daddy daddy look what I made!" When Jake Sully entered the room, he was met with a pair of sparkling eyes staring directly at him, paper in hand as you jumped up and down in excitement. He closed the door with his hands before he moved them back to the wheels, rolling himself forward carefully as he had their dinner on his lap. When you headed towards him, your tiny feet stepping towards him in small baby steps, Jake Sully already knew he had to remove anything available on his lap for the tiny human that was about to jump in his arms. He quickly put the plastic bag to his side and opened his arms to welcome his adopted daughter in his arms. "Daddy daddy!!", your squeals filled the air as you pressed yourself against his body. Jake Sully had to steady his body for the huge amount of impact a tiny human like yours could give, but once he seated you comfortably on his lap, he couldn't help but lift you up to his face, his arms around her body to hug her close as she was kneeling on his lap. "Hi babygirl, did you make something for daddy?", he brought his lips towards your chubby cheek to blow a raspberry against your skin. Tons of giggles left your lips as you nodded your head to his question, "I drew daddy and me!" You held onto his shoulder to steady yourself with one hand before you brought the drawing in front of his face. Jake Sully had to squint his eyes to get used to the closeness, the little girl, that was you, basically pressing the drawing into his face. Another pair of giggles left your lips as you waited for his reply. He turned you around on his lap and you immediately took a seat, your short legs dangling against his. Jake took his time to analyze the drawing. It was incredibly messy, as expected of a six year old. A few scribbles in different colors. Something that is supposed to look like a rainbow? But in the middle, there he was. Jake sully himself. He was sitting on something that looked like a chair and his little girl was there, right on his lap. The drawing was very abstract, but it made his heart flutter nonetheless. "And you drew this all by yourself? You did this all by yourself?" One hand is held onto the drawing while the other was wrapped around your stomach.
"Yes daddy!! I love you daddy!!"
You, (Y/N) Sully, prior (Y/N) (L/N), were confused. Where did your daddy go? You were young, age 8 when he left you on earth. You didn't understand why. Didn't he love you? But he always made sure to remind you. Kisses, quality time, cuddling. He took you in when mommy and daddy died, so why is he suddenly leaving you? He told you it was for work, something important that would give the both of you a good life. Give you a good life. But you didn't care about anything of that. Being with your daddy already made you feel like you were living your best life. Painting with daddy, eating with daddy, cuddling with daddy. But he told you to be patient and that he would return to you soon. Yet, when was soon? You grew impatient, even though you yourself knew that it wasn't kind of you to be like that. He took you in when you were an orphan and took his time to care for you, even though he was paralyzed and having a hard time himself. You completed one another, because you both needed each other the most at the same time. So you tried you best to stay optimistic. Your daddy loves you, so surely he will come soon for you, right? But days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Then he missed your eleventh birthday. The neighbors Jake Sully was close with took care of you instead during the time. They were like your auntie and uncle, but they weren't your daddy. When two years passed, you decided to call it quits. He wasn't coming back for you. You were thirteen at that time, old enough to understand the reality of the world. A teenager without any goals is what you were, the light and will left your eyes the moment your daddy left you. You hated carrying his last name, yet couldn't bring yourself to change it back to your original surname.
The decision to keep your last name was the reason they found you. They, are a resistance group going against the destruction of Pandora. Pandora. The planet your daddy went to and never came back from. Like the reckless thirteen-year-old you were and not thinking about consequences at all in this terrible world, you went with these unknown, potentially dangerous, people to their underground base. There you were answered all the questions you had and wanted to ask. It was normal that you were curious about your dad, but tried to be nonchalant about it. Him leaving you wasn't a big deal, not at all. Why would that be a big deal? But you couldn't fool anyone with that type of behavior, as the liteaunant explained further than the questions you actually asked. Much more personal information. A daughter will always miss her dad after all. You learned that your father, Jake Sully, was still alive and one of the people. A painful way to know, from someone else, since it felt like your father indirectly slapped you in the face with an 'I don't care about you'. "Alive and well", were the words she told you. Alive and well your ass. When you were asked to join the program to protect Pandora, the indigenous and its nature from the greedy governments that tried to destroy it. The same governments that already have destroyed their own planet: ignoring global warming. Proceeding to pump gas from under the ground, bringing animals in danger, and destroying the nature humanity needs to even breathe. You couldn't lie, you wanted to decline. Saving the world and all sounded good and all, but you never wanted to do anything that even indirectly involved you so-called father. When money and status were involved, it started to sound interesting in your eyes. Ironic, the same way your dad left you. Like father like daughter, one could say. Yet, this was your chance to show everyone what you could turn out to be.
So, accepting is what you did. You soon started training, but it was no usual military training. You all learned about life on Pandora, you and the others that had potential in them learned to live like the people of Pandora: the bow and arrow, spears, but also hand-to-hand combat if anything were to go wrong. The training honestly went great, you didn't regret accepting the offer one bit. You felt fit and worthy, and most importantly you found people around you that cared for you. The liteaunant that guided you from the start was like a master to you. Not in an authority kind of way, but a respectful bond between two equals. You had friends that went through this entire process with you, telling each other about their lives and how they ended up here. While they were almost like warriors following orders, every night the group would sneak away to be like teenagers again, kids having fun and playing games. For a long time, it was the same routine. Wake up, eat, and train for almost the entire day, do homework, have dinner, sneak out, and sleep. You hated that homework so much, but knew that you needed to master everything you were given. It was to learn the language of the people, Na'vi. This felt like when you had to learn languages in high school, but ten times worse as you didn't even finish high school. "Oel nati kamy?", your voice sounded unsure as you tried to say the formal way of greeting someone in Na'vi, but you earned a slap against your forehead in return from one of your friends. "No, it's Oel Ngati Kameie, skxwang!"
Years of training together ended up being so worth it, because when all of you reached the end of your teenage years, it got announced that you were finally ready. You felt so delighted to know that all of your hard work paid off in the end. You knew everyone had a hard time trying their best to teach you the language of the people, so you were so thankful for everyone around you to get you where you are right now. Everyone worked so hard for it. As a parting gift, your liteaunant gifted you a katana. "It's to protect yourself, and always think of me", she joked to you, but the both of you could feel the heavy tension in the air. The grip on your katana tightened as you dropped your bag on the floor. You finally wrapped your arms around her, forgetting about the warrior exterior, that facade falling for just a moment. She didn't hesitate to hug you in return, "thank you for everything." You had whispered into her ear and pulled yourself together, being the first one to pull away from the hug. You knew that if you didn't let go now, you would second-guess jumping on your flight to Pandora. "Come on (y/n)!" Your friends already boarded and you were the last one left on the flat grounds. "Go on, child. You deserve this. And remember what I told you!" You don't reply, but only flash her a smile as you run after your friends with the katana and a bag. You all follow your superiors' suit, putting your stuff where they tell you to. With no seconds left to spare, they immediately tell you to follow them to your tubes, you were getting put into cryosleep. You still couldn't believe it. They were going to put you to sleep for six years and you're gonna wake up looking the same, but temporarily living in a dream world you trained your entire teen years for. You lay down in your tube, ready to get put to sleep. The nerves were truly getting to you. "See you on the other side!", you jokingly said to lift up the mood, and your friends started joking around, telling one another goodbyes and what they should do if one of them doesn't wake up. You just lay there quietly, waiting to get put to sleep as your mind starts wandering. You kept thinking about your leatiunant's words. She keeps telling you that you should make up with your dad or at least hear him out. You hoped you wouldn't run into him on Pandora, but he was Jake Sully. The Toruk Makto that went from being a sky demon to being one of the people. For sure you would get in contact with him. But as long as no one revealed your name, everything could be fine. He's dead to you after all. Surely, you were only there for the money and a good time, right?
Only time could tell.
A/N: my first time writing on tumblr so no idea how some stuff works. Had this type of idea for a dad Sully plot for a while and finally started it. Legit rushed through this to finish this asap cause backstory kinda lame. I'm a college student so give me some time until the next part. I need to release a novella for college so I'm double-writing a story— isn't smart of me but🤭
5K notes · View notes