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#even if he still fucked up and just did the wrong thing sometimes or had the wrong motivations
slvttyplum · 3 days
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Could you please write choso? Anything is fine!! I just really like how you write him ٩( ᐛ )( ᐖ )۶ love all your work <3
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choso wasn't the greatest boyfriend; he never deemed himself to be. all he knew was that he loved you so much that whenever he looked at you, his heart would skip a beat. he was still learning the ins and outs of being in a relationship, and he loved the fact that he was learning with you. now,  with that being said, he had different ways of doing things. 
you know how sometimes, when your partner gets sad, you'll comfort them and hold them in your arms as you listen to everything that's wrong, slowly soothing them. at least that's what you did; choso had another way of comforting you. 
fucking the sadness out of you. 
choso hated when you cried, hated when you didn't get your way, hated when you got upset even over the littlest things; it didn't make him feel good. all he wanted was to see you smile and laugh, not have your eyes swollen from crying, so he did his best to make sure you were always happy. 
on the off chance you weren't, he did what he had to do, even if that meant laying you on the bed and fucking the shit out of you until your cries were covered with moans and whimpers and begging him to keep fucking into you. this is what he deemed himself good a, he knew how much you loved the way he touched and fucked you; it made you smile and giggle, especially the faces he made. 
the connection the both of you had was amazing; nothing else could top the way the both of you looked at each other while having sex. even when he was pushing deep inside of you and not holding back, his touches were still soft, his hands running over you as he placed warm, soft kisses on your skin. 
this is what he knew would have your cheeks warm and a smile on your face. you never scolded him for always fucking you when you were sad, because even though it was weird from the start, there were pure intentions behind it.
fucking you wasn't about his pleasure and getting his rocks off; it was about making love to you and making sure you were okay. placing his hand on the side of your face as he looked deep into your eyes, a smile appearing on both your faces as he took his time with all the touches he put on you.
his body on yours brought all the comfort you needed, it made your heart flutter and your body heat up with warmth. all he ever wanted was to bring you the peace that you needed, and that's exactly what he did when he kissed your lips, pressed his body against yours, and whispered sweet things into your ears.
his touch had everything in it that lit you up and brought the sparkle back into your eyes. choso wasn't going to stop until he saw you smiling again, until he heard your soft voice beg for him to push deeper inside of you and make you cum. if choso was going to do something, he was going to do it right; he was going to make sure that there was not a trace of sadness left behind. 
choso never wanted to see your eyes dark and unsteady from crying; all he wanted was to make sure that you were fine and taken care of, pushing himself deeper inside of you with each stroke. holding out so he wouldn't cum before you, kissing your lips as he rolled his hips and pushed out your thighs. 
if choso couldn't be happy, he was going to make sure you were all smiles, because you were the source of all his happiness. he always meant well; that's what his love for you was; it was pure.
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mrsparrasblog · 2 days
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You're losing me pt.1 POLY 141 x F, Reader
TW: cheating, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, dubious consent, there will be a happy end in the last part dont worry
pt.2
The most important thing about a POLY relationship was trust, and you knew you could trust them with all your heart. Kyle was so devoted to you that the mere thought of sleeping with another woman made him sick to his stomach. John was so full of loyalty towards you that he would never do anything to destroy your trust. Simon would rather kill himself than hurt you, the man who didn’t even dare to sleep with you for the first three months, afraid of hurting you should cheat on you? Never. And Johnny, oh your Johnny, was the sweetest of all of them. He took you on all these dates, introduced you to his family, and not a day went by without a compliment, nor a return from deployment without a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
So why do you still feel jealous sometimes? John reassured you over and over again that it was normal for you to feel jealous. He reassured you that nothing was happening while they were on deployment; they had each other for the fun stuff but definitely no other females; that spot was reserved for you, and only you.
Still, when you saw the new medic, you were so close to puking your guts out. She was beautiful, so stunningly beautiful and cool. A field medic is more in understanding with their branch than you with your job as a teacher. "Don’t need a medic, love," Simon reassured you once again, "we love that you're soft and not so rugged of war." Kyle immediately asked if he should stop talking with her outside of missions, and there you had your safety and reassurance.
Two months you spent without them; their last tour took a bit longer than expected. When John surprisingly texted you yesterday that they were back, you couldn’t contain your happiness. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time yesterday evening since you worked late, but you were eager to surprise them today on base, even though they thought you were only coming Wednesday. But hey, they’d be happy about the surprise. So you baked their favorite goods, put yourself in a cute outfit, and went on base.
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Johnny woke up with the worst headache of his life. He didn’t even remember drinking that much, only a few pints. Normally, he was more resistant. He felt a warm body around him and hair all over his face. He didn’t remember bringing you home yesterday, but yesterday was very blurry for him anyway. But he couldn’t complain; he missed you so much. When he nuzzled inside your neck, he smelled a different perfume than usual. It didn’t smell that great, but that's not something he’d say to you. Maybe he’d buy you a bottle of your favorite perfume as a present. The hair felt slightly different too, and your figure, did you change really so much in two months? When he opened his eyes and saw her, he couldn’t believe this. This must have been a dream, a bad dream. He looked down and noticed her lack of clothes under the blanket. "Fuck," he cursed out as he jumped out of bed, waking up the medic.
"What’s wrong, Johnny?"
"Don’t call me that; only she and SI can."
"You didn’t complain yesterday when I moaned it," the medic said with a teasing smile, grinning like a kid on Christmas.
"Don’t tell me we…" he pleaded.
"Of course, we did, Sweetheart."
Fuck, fuck, fuck, he screwed up. How could he do this? Where were the others? Why didn’t they stop him? How would they react? God, they'd kill me. No, she won’t. She will look at me with this disappointing glance.
As if the situation wasn’t worse enough, the guys walked in, looking at her standing completely naked. Kyle turned immediately around, but John looked knowing exactly like Ghost.
"You have 5 seconds to explain yourself, Soap," John grunted out, his hoarse voice sounding even deeper than usual.
"Oh, Johnny and I just had a bit of fun, Cap. Don’t worry; we can still go if you want to," she smiled brightly, her hand running over Price's clothed abs.
He pushed her away. "The only thing you're going to do is shower and leave."
She didn’t move. "It’s an order, not a suggestion, soldier," so she went to the shower, leaving the four men alone.
Kyle was on his way outside. "Where are you going, Sergeant?" Ghost asked.
"Telling my girlfriend that that bastard cheated on her. You don’t deserve her, not even a bit."
"Your girlfriend?"
"You won’t tell her a thing."
"You don’t get to decide that, Ghost," Kyle almost spat out.
"Ah, really, didn’t remember a thing."
Kyle went to him, grabbed him, and pushed him into a wall. "You fucking idiot, you ruined everything just because you couldn’t control your fucking cock."
"Stop."
"Aren’t you happy about it, Garrick? Now you have her alone like you always wanted?" Ghost asked, challenging the man who hurt his Johnny. He thought there must be a logical explanation for this; Johnny loved you; he wouldn’t do that.
"I said, fucking stop," John screamed at everyone.
You heard a lot of screams around the base. When you finally went to the room of Johnny and Kyle, you saw everyone there around, fighting. "So that’s what you do when I'm away to keep you in check," you hummed, chuckling a bit.
They looked at you in horror. Instead of the usual running towards you from Kyle, the picking you up from John, or the thousand kisses from Johnny, they just stood there in shock.
"Everything alright, boys?" you asked, letting the cupcakes rest on the table you baked for them.
"Love, look—" Kyle started but got stopped by Simon.
And from that moment, it went downhill. You noticed a flashy pink bra, definitely not your size, so far from your size that you were confused. "Whose is this?" you picked it up, and no words came out of them.
"No…" you already thought about the worst, but you wanted to give them a chance. Maybe it was a damn coincidence, Johnny's sister visiting or anything like that. The doubt went away in a second when she walked out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Oh, you're still together."
"Who of you?" you begged that they didn’t say all.
"I was. I'm so sorry," John said, his face looked apologetic, while the others looked surprised at their captain.
"It’s over," you muttered, trying not to cry to save you at least a bit of dignity. You were so stupid to trust them like that.
"Love, no, please," Kyle begged while Johnny and John were just silent.
"With all of us?" Ghost asked, wounded.
"You all knew it, and no one told me that John slept with that slag."
"EY!"
"Shut up," Ghost barked at the medic.
"I swear to you, I wanted to tell you," Kyle pleaded.
"Well, you didn’t, did you?"
"No, love, wait."
"It’s over," you asked out of the door, shutting them down from following you. "Let me the fuck alone."
"Let her go," John said to his men and they listened.
Back in the comfort of your own home, you allowed yourself to cry, holding your dog Winston till you felt in an unpeaceful slumber.
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eastbubble · 20 hours
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letting your captain hit because you felt so guilty about him being so alone. you knew this wasn’t exactly a good thing to do and that you were definitely on the wrong path.. but when you saw captain mactavish looking for your gaze every single day at training you knew this was already long lost. you promised yourself you’d never catch feelings and that this would only be something you did out of fun and to make him feel a little better about all the shit in his neck, but..
you knew he talked to ghost and roach, and he also had people like worm and the others, guys that he considered friends, comrades, you name it. but you weren’t a friend, that’s for sure — you were someone that just sometimes ran out with the rest of the reserve squad when they needed more armed people for a mission. you weren’t important at all, you could have died at least fourteen times already when you were deployed, it just showed that you weren’t even good at your job either.
one sentence was already able to make you surrender to him and melt; “how was your day, munchkin?” and it felt so bad to give in to him so easily.
but when he came into your room and told you how he saw you try your best today. when you saw his head peeking into your room after a mission, face paint running down on the side of his head as the sweat and rain had made the black lines turn into liquid again, dripping down. you spent so much time admiring him, not just as a person who was above you, your higher-up but also as a man.
getting lost in your thoughts was always routine while he had his head between your legs, your fingers tugging at his mohawk, pinching and twisting strands of his hair while you were slightly trying to squirm away from his tongue. his pair of strong arms kept you tightly pressed to his nose, though, the tip of it bumping against your clit every single time he somehow licked deep inside you like you were nothing but that ice cream he had been craving ever since he got deployed again. that tongue did wonders and you were the one that knew that the most.
he held you in your place while you tried to close your thighs up when you were already so close to your orgasm, your entire body lifting up as you involuntarily jerked yourself forward, butt no longer in contact with the bed. he was quick to press you down, lapping at your folds and eating you out like you deserved it when you knew you didn’t. a pathetic solider you were, not even respecting the basic rules of the military and letting your captain eat your pussy.
his mouth was kissing your clit every time he quit licking to take a deep breath, looking up to your face every once in a while to see if you were still enjoying it. he knew when to stop, he knew when you were getting too overwhelmed. he knew all of your nerves down there like the back of his hand. he put all of your pleasure high above his, the both of you completely forgetting the fact that in the beginning this was only to make him relax and help him not to go insane.
you thought you were slick with this whole thing, keeping the burning feeling of humiliation and also some faint trace of love (that was somehow stronger than the other one. why?) in your chest hidden, never saying a word about it and hoping it would go away on its own once you return back home and lose every contact with this whole fucking shithole of a military base and the people there.
but a strong feeling hit back at you on a random thursday afternoon when you were just taking out the trash and checking the mailbox — bloodied dog tags of john mactavish shipped to you in just a bubble mailer, a small little note attached to it that you were the only person he mentioned by name in his will.
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chaifootsteps · 2 days
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Full Moon anon - unexpected third part, sorry.
I think I've figured out why 'Stolas sending Blitzo nice texts and having phone chats means Blitzo should understand he wants more than sex' bothers me so much, on top of everything I outlined already
it's becaue it's accepting Stolas' narrative (and Viv's) as the only legitimate one
like from Stolas' perspective this is all some grand love story, right? - love at first sight as kids, magical day together when Stolas had a friend, reuniting later as adults leading to the magical first time Stolas ever enjoyed sex. From there everything that happened has been rewritten in Stolas' mind to suggest he and Blitzo are an actual 'thing' - Blitzo agreed to the deal, so he must want (or at least be OK with) monthly sex. In fact Blitzo's (we assume) very good at sex and seems to enjoy it sometimes, so that means he's happy with the arrangement. He even invited Stolas out on a date, so he must want romance...!
Then Ozzie's happens, & this is Stolas' big Missed Reality Check #1. He's wrecked his life for a transactional fling and he doesn't even have the guts to stand up for Blitzo in the moment, though he does still try to hold his hand afterwards, because why shouldn’t he have the kind of happiness those two married imps seem to have...? Except, no. Blitzo pulls away, then gives him the big speech that should have told him everything he needed to know about why this isn’t working out the way Stolas expects it to - because he's been deluding himself this whole time. But instead of grappling with the damage the full moon deal has done, he pushes reality away some more - and claims Blitzo lied to him on top of everything else.
Instead of ending the deal straight away he seems to internalize the message that he just needs to act nicer and more romantic to Blitzo and that'll prove his love - even though the deal is still in place so all he’s really succeeding at doing is confusing him at best and making Blitzo think Stolas wants to have it both ways at worst. Even while he’s arranging to get the crystal to end the deal he keeps sending Blitzo text messages and having nice phone calls with him, effectively LARPing the romantic relationship he actually wants *while the deal that Blitzo was so upset about is still ongoing (*and Blitzo doesn’t know Stolas now also thinks it’s wrong on some level, since he never apologized for it by text except for a backhanded ‘I’m sorry if something I said or did offended you but I won’t specify what or think about why’). The most Stolas does is pull back a bit on the deal - the duet has Blitzo imply it’s been awhile since they met up for their arrangement, though on its own that’s not good enough to make Blitzo think Stolas wants him for more than sex/views him as an equal without a proper apology from Stolas’ side when he ends things, and right now it’s feeling like it’ll be a small miracle if that happens without Stolas or the show acting like Blitzo is equally in the wrong here.
Assuming 'Blitzo should know Stolas wants more than sex' is viewing things entirely through Stolas' perspective, where a couple of nice texts and phone calls entirely counterbalances a long history of treating Blitzo like a sex toy and disregarding his feelings and boundaries on a near constant basis. All Stolas wants is to fast walk their 'relationship' from 'transactional fucking' to 'actually dating' and he doesn't want to do any hard work of acknowledging what the effect of that first bit was on Blitzo or why he can't just demand Blitzo trusts him the moment he hands over the crystal. Likely Blitzo will try to hammer this point home in Full Moon and Stolas will get mad and shut him down (Missed Reality Check #2) - frankly it’s already a fair argument to suggest Blitzo should just take the crystal and dip but if the show wants to really make a case for these two, this is basically its last chance to show Stolas actually cares about Blitzo’s emotions and that Stolas is willing to acknowledge how him not caring about Blitzo’s safety or ability to give informed consent back in Murder Family has affected his perspective of the ‘relationship’.
I imagine some Stolas/Stol/tz stans will look at that last bit and say ‘but s1e1 was ages ago! Stolas has changed a bunch (read: been retconned into a new person without doing much actual character development) since then and it’s Blitzo’s fault he can’t let it go’. To which I say, no. Stolas doesn’t get to dictate that Blitzo should ‘just get over’ how he treated him when he hasn’t apologized properly for any of it. It will always be an issue until Stolas deals with it because it will always hang over Blitzo’s perception of him. Plus Blitzo had an entire season of dealing with other BS from Stolas; it’s not like the owl just did one bad thing and that was it (see: basically everything about the way Stolas treated him in Loo Loo Land, persistently mispronouncing his name until Stolas wanted a romantic relationship and decided it was time to address him properly, yanking on his face multiple times, putting cigarettes out on his horns, calling him a plaything, flirting with him when he was T-minus seconds away from a panic attack the episode right after Blitzo told him off for treating him like a sex toy). Frankly it’s self absorbed on Stolas’ part to refuse to acknowledge the way he has treated Blitzo affects the way Blitzo treats him in return and demand he get over it the second Stolas has decided he’s ready to be better (and if Stolas doesn’t even listen to Blitzo’s feelings without losing his temper and throwing him out in Full Moon, his idea of ‘better’ isn’t worth a darn).
Look at it from Blitzo's perspective instead and it becomes clear. He steals the book and tosses Stolas some pity sex because he feels bad the bird actually thinks they're friends/has never had anyone want him physically before. From then on he has the problem that Stolas has become obsessed with him and fixated on him sexually - it’s evident in their convo in e1 that he’s been avoiding his calls, after all, and he has a panic button for him in his office. Stolas then leverages a situation where Blitzo can't freely consent to him changing up the terms regarding his use of the book to get him to agree to monthly sex. He does this after having let Blitzo use the book no strings attached for some time, too. Blitzo agrees to get him off the phone, then probably thinks that because he needs the book and wants to stick to his word (even though it wasn't freely given) that he should just grit his teeth and get on with it, so he doesn’t argue the issue further. Stolas is kinky enough that the sex is maybe at least enjoyable, even if Blitzo would rather not have to please his every whim every month just to keep the lights on. He keeps his head down, maybe thinking they could have been something if only he didn't feel like Stolas' prisoner (truth seekers). But then Stolas starts to change - a one off invite to a club has Stolas acting like they're on an actual date and Blitzo has no idea what to do with that (’that’s a little much, don’t you think?…oh yeah, I guess it is.’). They don't have a ‘thing’ after all, it's just transactional. And it's starting to get annoying that Stolas - who he couldn't even trust not to attempt to drag him off to some dark corner in loo loo land for a hookup - is acting like they're a real couple. What's worse is he's now sending these long desperate text messages and extending this delusion that he cares about Blitzo to their phone calls! And he has the nerve to act like he’s been hinting he wanted to go out with Blitzo for a while, when he was the one who proposed the deal instead of just asking Blitzo out and working out a separate business arrangement for the book? He has the nerve to act like he was powerless despite being a prince, that he was seduced by Blitzo despite Blitzo acting annoyed or rejecting his advances outside the deal near constantly?
Tl:dr, but what's so frustrating here is that it would be bad enough for Blitzo to have deal with someone who uses his life being in danger to extort sex out of him. But it's worse because he's also having to fight against Stolas' delusions - Stolas has been trying to treat him like a boyfriend even with the deal still in place. If Blitzo had come inside at the end of Ozzie's and they'd watched a movie and cuddled, it wouldn't have fixed anything. It would have enabled Stolas' notion that he could have a relationship with Blitzo and that they were mutually in love, even as he refused to give up the deal. Stolas wanted to act like they were a couple now and somehow at the same time he doesn't realize/refuses to see that it's wrong to use the book to have power over Blitzo. That's an outstanding and disturbing level of double think tbh and it's frustrating to see fans so totally buying into the show's narrative of how Stol/tz should be viewed that they don't realize how irrational it sounds to basically say 'Blitzo should realize Stolas wants more from him than sex because Stolas has been behaving like they're going steady, while he's still kept this transactional deal going'.
They don't seem to get Blitzo's perspective is heavily informed by the transactional deal, because it's the only reason he interacts with Stolas at all! Of course he's going to behave according to his own perspective and everything we've seen from Stolas makes it entirely rational to behave the way Blitzo does. If I were Blitzo I'd be tearing my horns out with frustration that Stolas just can't seem to compute that treating someone like a means for transactional sex means they're not going to behave in a romantic way towards you. They're going to behave like you're the client and they're the one being forced to please you (because they are), and naturally snap when the client tries to act like the relationship isn't entirely based around them getting what they want at all times (and then have the client get indignant because they wanted the benefits of a transactional relationship but they don’t want their ego hurt by being made to face the fact they treated another living being like a means to an end)
Honestly given how cruel and delusional Stolas is, I'd love to see Blitzo tell him that not only did his father buy Blitzo's company and he actually has a childhood friend that isn't him who he was actually in love with (Fizz), but he only slept with Stolas that first time out of pity. If Stolas is going to delude himself and fail to understand where Blitzo is coming from, he frankly can't have enough reality checks shoved under his beak (and even then he'd probably take a while to get it).
Put it this way - if Blitzo had swallowed down his upset in Ozzie's and come inside as Stolas wanted, Stolas would probably still be deluding himself that it's totally valid to have a romantic relationship with someone while simultaneously having a deal with them so you can ensure they sleep with you.
Stolas isn't ending the deal because he thinks it's wrong (and I'm not counting that song from the trailer as enough proof that he's really learnt this lesson - if he can't hear out Blitzo's feelings on the matter then it's clear he's gone from demanding sex to demanding a romantic relationship with no change in his fundamental flaw of not treating Blitzo like a person with his own feelings) he's doing it because the thing he wants out of Blitzo has changed and if he can't have that thing within the confines of the deal, ending it is his only option left
Your guys' writeups never fail to feel like a neck rub. I'd kill for more people in the fandom to realize exactly what you've written here.
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mrwinterr · 17 hours
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The Nerve
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Pairing(s): former!Steve Harrington x Female Reader; eventual!Eddie Munson x Female Reader
Summary: The nerves of some people. 
Warnings: Cliché af. Toxic behavior. When they go low, I go lower. Revenge. Not a girls’ girl here bc once you fuck around w/ another girl’s man it’s “yes, and?” from there. Implied smut. Language. We’re probably not gonna like Steve (or even the reader for a bit) here. 
Disclaimer: Typical !former and !eventual pairing. Some time hopping. None of the spooky events of the Stranger Things (2016) series take place in this piece. Everything is just where it’s at because this is made up. 
Pre A/N: This is embarrassing. I was in my villain era. I was certainly in the business of misery. I was angry (still am sometimes), so I wrote this. We all cope differently.
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The nerve. 
She had the nerve to steal your boyfriend. 
It had been a few weeks since Steve broke up with you, only to start dating a girl you had harbored no ill will toward until that night. He even had the guts to reveal who she was and how long he had been losing interest in you. You weren’t going to lie, it hurt – a lot. Discovering his real need for “space” during the last two months of your relationship was painful to realize because in that time, while you were being understanding, he was finding a way to end things with you.
Looking back, you couldn’t help but dissect the memory. It was an ordinary day. School was let out for the weekend, and you were spending it with Steve, a cozy night in without interruptions since he was often left alone at home. The two of you lay on the couch, cuddled up, bodies parallel, his arms around you, the room dimly lit by the TV screen. 
“I have something I wanna talk to you about…and it’s been on my mind for a while,” Steve says, loosening his grip and pausing the movie that was mindlessly playing midway. 
“Okay,” you reply, pushing yourself up from the couch to make space for him to sit up. He shifted, swinging his legs over to plant his feet on the carpeted floor, settling into a seated position and scooting aside to allow you room to sit back down next to him.  
The atmosphere shifted noticeably, and it made you nervous. The way he ran his hands through his hair and avoided meeting your gaze – it all felt ominous, and you couldn’t prepare yourself for what he was about to say. 
“I met someone,” he revealed. 
It wasn’t the news you expected, and you could feel your heart sink into your stomach as you absorbed his words.
“Oh,” is all you manage to say, now turning your gaze to the ground too, unable to look at him. 
A whirlwind of emotions swept through you – hurt, anger, brokenness, betrayal. The signs had been there. Why hadn’t you seen them? He had been growing distant – more withdrawn, fewer “good mornings” and “good nights”, less calls, more canceled dates. You had been looking forward to tonight, thinking he was just preoccupied with work or his upcoming graduation, believing whatever he needed space for was resolved. Turns out, he needed space from you. 
You had so many questions, even though you weren’t sure why you needed the answers. In that moment, you wanted to know what you had done to make him lose interest in you. You had thought the relationship was salvageable. 
What? He was breaking up with you. 
When? He’d been feeling like this for almost two months. 
Where? At work.  
Who? The other girl he worked with, also attends Hawkins High, but she's a year above you, therefore had more classes and events with him. 
How? It just happened. 
Yeah, that last one was a classic, but not as much as him telling you that you did nothing wrong and that you both could stay friends. Bullshit. With Steve, would come her, and you couldn’t believe the nerve of her to pursue another girl’s boyfriend. You’d seen her while visiting Steve at his job, but you hadn’t felt threatened by her. The hurting phase was brutal, but now all you could feel for her was anger – after all, who didn’t know that you were dating Steve Harrington? 
She had the nerve to act all innocent.
The school hallways were not pleasant for you. A few days after the break up, rumors circulated that Steve left you for someone else, though apparently their relationship hadn’t been made public yet, sparking widespread gossip. 
How would you have known that though? His business wasn’t yours anymore. In fact, you’d made a deliberate effort to distance yourself from them because the breakup was still fresh. Fuck trying to be friends. This time you were the one that needed the space. The last thing you wanted was to think about them together. 
Steve had the audacity to point the finger at you because you were supposedly the only one aware of the relationship. Even when you tried to explain, he left you hanging. The disbelief on his face hurt to witness. He didn’t believe you. 
“How do they know about us?” Steve demanded as he approached you at your locker, hands on his hips in typical, upset Steve fashion. No hey, hi or hello. He just went right in. 
“I don’t know,” you scoffed, continuing to unload your textbooks from your backpack.
“Well, you’re the only one who knows,” he persisted, leaning in closer, determined to get an answer. “And your name is going around.” 
“Look, Steve,” you finally turned to face him, your tone sharp, catching him off guard. “Your new relationship isn’t my concern.” This is a side of you Steve isn’t used to. “Why would I go around telling everyone that you left me for her? In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever given you a reason to think I’d do something like this?” 
You could see him reconsidering his accusation. The questions seemed to stump him, as if he knew the rumors were absurd and gossip wasn’t something you partook in. 
“Why don’t you go talk to your girlfriend and figure it out?” you suggested, turning back to your locker, not in the mood to continue the conversation. 
All Steve did was stare at you before shaking his head then going into a tangent of how some of the rumors were negatively affecting her when they weren’t true and how she shouldn’t have to endure them or receive any of its backlash…as if you did. But when he started saying something along the lines of how she wouldn’t do that because she told him she didn’t, you knew this was all a wasted effort on your end because he had already made up his mind. He believed her. 
Did he truly think you cared that much about them? Did he really think you'd stoop so low as to announce his new relationship? Did he ever really know you? 
She had the nerve to lie. 
Steve apologized to you when he discovered it was actually his new girlfriend that spread the news. He recognized his rash behavior and conceded that he should’ve believed you. Why would you waste energy on them? They weren’t worth your time anymore. 
“Hey,” a voice calls from behind, and you turn to see Steve standing there, looking contrite. Unlike before, you receive a greeting.
“Hey,” you reply, briefly acknowledging him before returning to organizing your locker, now cluttered by your chaotic friend’s belongings - stashing the shit that no one would suspect the good girl to possess. It didn’t bother you much, except for the occasional stench it left behind. 
“You were right,” Steve admits, hands in his front pockets and moving to the side to look at you. Pausing your task, you wait for him to continue. “She was the one going around telling everyone that I left you…for her.” Boy, that was awkward and lowkey stung. It hadn’t even been that long and he didn’t fail to remind you how you all got here. 
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” he continues, visibly ashamed, “I should’ve known better than to believe that.” His apology didn’t really move you. The damage had already been done. You were branded as the ‘psycho ex’ and all Steve had to do was trust you from the start. 
She had the nerve to act like a girls’ girl. 
She never directly apologized, but she had the nerve to claim that she harbored “no hard feelings” toward you. Hard feelings? Why? Because you’re the ex? Was she fucking stupid? How did she expect the girl whose boyfriend she stole to feel? Everything that came out of her mouth infuriated you.  
It was no ordinary day – it was your birthday, and your friend had organized a night out to celebrate. You never liked to make a spectacle of your birthday, but it was also a good reason to go out, distract yourself, and avoid dwelling on unwanted thoughts. 
“You’re lying,” your friend responds, baffled by what you just told him, “she really said that?” 
“She fucking did!” you exclaim, still grappling with her impeccable timing. She wouldn’t know it was your birthday or would she care. 
“Jesus. Of all the days…” he says with a low whistle before attempting to lift your spirits, “But, hey, we’re not gonna let her ruin your birthday!”
“I know, and I won’t!” Your voice wavers as you try to convince yourself this wouldn’t affect you. You were determined to not cry today, but the truth was, it still hurts. Her little stunt reopened a wound that was almost healed.  
“He’s such a fool,” he remarks, followed by a brief silence. You were preoccupied with regaining your composure, fighting back tears, unable to respond. “He didn’t know what he already had in front of him. Lucky son of a bitch,” he added, and you’re not sure if he was speaking to himself or he meant to say that outloud, but you heard him nonetheless. 
“Stop,” you reply, turning your away from him. You’re not gonna cry. “I know what you’re trying to do, Eddie.”  
“What am I trying to do?” He asks adjusting to move to your line of vision, but you keep your focus averted.
“Hype me up, make me feel better…I don't know,” you answer, finally meeting his gaze, the tears now freely falling. 
He understood how hard you were on yourself, replaying what could’ve been avoided. Your relationship with Steve wasn’t something you anticipated. Steve pursued you, and initially, you were fine with a casual fling, but he insisted on something more serious. You had doubts about whether he was the right person, but what if he was? It’s a reminder that life isn’t planned; it’s lived.
Eddie’s support during your breakup was invaluable. He watched you cry a lot – at home, at his trailer, at school, at work. He watched you criticize yourself for the breakup. He watched the light go out and he was determined to reignite it. He simply wanted his friend back. 
“Sweetheart, I promise you,” he assures, hand over his heart, “everything I’ve said is sincere,” accompanied by that charming, stupid trademark Eddie grin. He was so endearing. 
“Well,” you begin, but he’s got you. He had a knack for flipping the script, leaving you wondering why you were arguing in the first place. 
Despite your curiosity about what attracted Steve to someone else and away from you, you had to accept that you probably wouldn’t ever know. 
If there was one thing you knew about Steve, it was that when he falls, he falls fast. With that realization, it sparked a wicked plan in your mind. If you could bag him once, you could probably do it again. 
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The nerve. 
You had the nerve to lie. 
The only person you had confided in about your breakup with Steve was Eddie, and you had the right to do so. You needed a friend. You also knew he had no interest in high school gossip, so it couldn’t have been him that told the whole school. You trusted him. 
People liked to talk and they didn’t hold back. Although the lies bothered you, you had a strong support system in Eddie and his friends. If any group could shrug off that nonsense, it was the Hellfire Club.
“Are you sure you didn’t tell anyone?” Steve asked, continuing to badger you, even suggesting Eddie as the culprit. You knew Steve well enough that he couldn’t take gossip about him for this long. After all, he had a reputation to uphold, and not all of the rumors were in his favor. 
“Eddie?” You asked, confused but also guilty because you had done just that. 
“Yeah, I know how much time you’ve been spending with him lately.” 
“Why is that any of your business?” You countered, a bit snappy.  
“Because,” Steve began, grasping for an excuse, “people talk.”
“And you really think Eddie would? He doesn’t care about shit like this or you-”
“Please,” he interrupts with an eye roll, in the annoying way Steve always did. 
“You don’t know him,” you defended your friend, “so get off your high horse and go talk to your girlfriend about your problem,” leaving him questioning everything again.  
You had the nerve to act all innocent. 
The birthday incident, as you tried your best to keep thoughts of Steve at bay, she unexpectedly approached you, alone, feigning sweetness and innocence. You listened as she spun her lies – lies about overhearing people gossip about her, Steve, and you; lies about rumors allegedly started by you; lies about having “no hard feelings” toward you. It was all fabrication.  
Politely, you attempted to have her understand your side of the story, clarifying that you had not spread any rumors and had discussed the situation with Steve, as civil as that could’ve been, and ultimately, how she should address the matter directly with him. What were you now? A couples counselor? You didn’t have time for this or them.
You weren’t going to start lying to yourself now, but it angered you. All you saw was red. So, you gave it right back, feigning innocence yourself, doubling down on it, subtly planting a seed of doubt in her mind. 
“Watch out for him,” you said sincerely, your warning devoid of malice. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked genuinely curious. God she was fucking stupid. Did she think she would walk out of this situation without a scratch? She had just proven she was not a girl’s girl for actively pursuing your boyfriend while he was with you. The world is a jungle, and it was every woman for herself now. 
“Nothing,” you shrugged, maintaining composure, “...just a girl looking out for another girl,” you added, offering her an innocent, warm smile. 
“Okay,” she replied, sounding confused and a bit shaky. You could sense her discomfort, and she deserved to feel uneasy. 
Ultimately, you weren’t lying. Yes, she should watch out for Steve – what made her think he wouldn’t treat her the same way he did to you? However, if you were in her shoes, you’d watch out for yourself. 
You had the nerve to not act like a girl’s girl too. 
The sudden breakup with Steve left some unresolved feelings, but he was now with her, not you, yet that didn’t stop the urge to act on them. Steve was weak and you realized that soon enough. 
With your head turned to the side, you observed him, listening to his ragged breathing, how his lips parted, emitting small puffs of air, his chest rising and falling, the sweat that dripped from the top of his forehead, and eyes closed in post-bliss. Your gaze traces the freckles that speckled his skin as you studied his profile, wrestling with the questions swirling your mind.
“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked cautiously, breaking the silence. Why fight for him?
He didn’t respond immediately, but didn’t linger too long before replying, “Not really.” 
“We’re gonna have to,” you said and it sounded almost pathetic. Why were you trying to hold onto him? 
“I…I think we shouldn’t talk for a while,” and when he said that, you knew that actually meant this was done. He was done with you. Why did you want to change his mind?
The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You knew it had to end eventually. There was no intention or hope of remaining friends. 
That night, you went home feeling hurt, broken, angry, and disgusted. You knew what you did was wrong, a sad attempt on your part. He probably wanted that reaction from you. You were more than willing to feed his male ego. What guy didn’t enjoy the idea of two girls vying for him? If it was easy for her and it was easy for you, it would be easy for another. What made him so special?
You had the nerve to try to steal her boyfriend.
It was a toxic situation. You found yourself doing exactly what she had done to you. What did that accomplish? Bragging rights and a fleeting sense of revenge, perhaps, but it didn’t bring you and Steve back together. It only highlighted how destructive you both could be. You sought revenge at the expense of homewrecking a relationship. You were no better, yet in a twisted way, you didn’t care. You wanted them to feel the same pain you did, even though deep down, you knew Steve was capable of sabotaging his own relationships. 
You told Eddie of the misdeed, feeling ashamed. He wasn’t upset with you. He understood that you would follow your own path no matter what. He didn’t have the right to control you. Both of you recognized that this would only lead to your own suffering. Unfortunately, you had to learn this lesson the hard way. 
“I know you’re upset and that’s okay,” he tries to console you, “...your feelings are valid.  But I don’t think you need to find the answers to everything. They’ll just lead to more and it’ll never end.”
He was right. The more you held onto what happened between you and Steve, the more questions arose. He was living rent free in your head. 
“I just-” you struggled, trying hard to make sense of the situation, “I just wanna know. What did I do wrong? How did he get bored of me? When was I not enough?” 
“Have you ever heard of the 80/20 rule?” he asked, and you shook your head. “It’s basically a theory that when someone cheats, they are drawn to the 20% in another person that is missing in their current partner.”
You’re not sure how much that helped you because it begged the question…”And I know what you’re thinking, so stop that!” Eddie’s quick to read you, “you’re lacking nothing, alright?” 
“Everyone knows I’m not a big fan of Steve Harrington,” he said, scrunching up his face at the mention of his name, “...but he’ll regret this. His type always comes back…fucking roaches.” That last remark elicited a small cackle out of you. 
He then took your hand in his. It’s a stark contrast to your own hand – larger, a bit rough, warm and slightly clammy – but it provided a sense of comfort. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at your hands clasped together until he gives it a light squeeze and says, “He’ll realize he was much better off with the 80% he already had.” 
Damn Eddie Munson. He was too good to you. It gave you a new perspective. Why were you being so hard on yourself? Why were you trying to convince yourself that the relationship’s downfall was your fault? It was Steve who started pulling away from you. It was Steve who did pull away from you. It was Steve who was actively pulling away from you. Everything that happened wasn’t solely on you. 
These kinds of things happen to everyone every day. Feeling hurt, broken, angry, betrayed and ashamed were normal and acceptable emotions. You just have to learn to swallow your pride and accept this as part of life. You live and learn – not necessarily forgive or forget, but move on in your own way. 
You were once happy without Steve, and you could be happy again. You gave up or changed a lot for Steve, losing sight of what made you happy. Now, you were committed to reclaiming your happiness. Fuck, when did you start crying? 
“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice laced in concern, bringing his other hand up to wipe the stray tears running down your face. 
“How do you do it?” you asked, looking down to compose yourself. 
“Do what?” he responded, amused. You didn’t answer verbally, but twist your hand in his to thread your fingers between his. The small smile on your face conveyed your question, softening his features. It’s a rare emotion from Eddie, mixed with vulnerability accompanied with a newfound awareness. 
He brings your now interlocked hands to his lips but not before saying, “...because I’m a big fan of you,” and kisses the back of your hand gently.
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The nerve.
Steve had the nerve to lie. 
Several months have passed with minimal communication from Steve. Occasionally seeing them together around school and town didn’t bother you anymore – well, not entirely. You can’t deny it still stirred up certain feelings, but you didn’t give it a second thought and eventually they weren’t a blimp on your radar. The past no longer consumed you, but unexpectedly, it started consuming Steve. 
Evidently, he still knew your schedule and had been desperately trying to find a chance to talk to you – just the two of you, without Eddie, other friends, teachers, classmates, or family around. When he approached you, you were confused; unsure if he was still with her or anyone else. You intentionally tuned out gossip and never paid attention to their situation. Besides, you had a better reason to not care about Steve anymore. So, when he starts pouring out his feelings, you take it with a grain of salt, this time with a clearer mind. 
“Hey,” Steve calls out as you step out of your front door, ready to head out with your ride nearby. 
“Uh, hey, Steve,” you reply with uncertainty. 
“Can we talk?” he asks hesitantly. 
“Now might not be the best time,” you respond with unease. 
“Please, just give me five minutes,” he begs, his eyes full of hope and pleading. What could there possibly be left to talk about? Despite your instincts telling you to stand firm, you reluctantly agree to hear him out, which you soon regret. 
Steve begins with an apology and offers to explain his actions. What more was there for him to explain? You no longer desired an explanation. It was simple – he grew tired of you, became interested in another girl, and left you; perhaps grew tired of her too and now he’s back. You had moved on from your failed relationship with Steve months ago. However, he felt he “owed” you an explanation. Was this all a joke to him?
The more he spoke, the more you got lost in your thoughts trying to comprehend the reality that he was standing before you, admitting to his mistakes, and seeking a second chance. His voice started to fade into the background as you felt the weight of deciding how to respond, all while knowing your ride would arrive at any moment. When the pressure got too much, you finally managed to step up. 
“Steve,” you interrupt, “I don’t know what you want me to say to you.” 
“You don’t have to say anything right now. I just–” he’s cut off by the sound of loud, muffled music, causing both of you to turn your attention to the bulky van that just pulled up in front of your house. 
You glanced at Steve sending him a tight lip smile before taking the short few steps to the curb, not looking back, knowing you were never going to get that "owed" explanation.
Steve had the nerve to try to act all innocent.
The atmosphere in Eddie’s van is tense the moment you climb into the passenger seat. Neither of you expected to see Steve today, let alone right before a date. And it happened. The lingering feelings had unearthed between you and Eddie and you welcomed it, a testament to your decision to move on from Steve. Right when things are looking up, life throws you a curveball in the form of your ex. 
“Are you okay?” Eddie asks cautiously, stealing a quick glance at you before focusing back on the road. 
“Yeah,” you reply unconvincingly, then quickly retract, “no,” followed by a sigh, “I mean, I was…I am. I’m just annoyed at Steve right now. I swear I had no idea he was stopping by.” 
“You’re fine,” Eddie assured, dismissively waving his hand to convey that it wasn’t a big deal to him, though his mind was racing with a million questions. When he saw Steve with you, he couldn’t help but wonder: Why was Steve there? What were you two talking about? What did Steve want? Had you been in contact with him and not mentioned it? Not that Eddie could control who you talked to, girlfriend or not. 
“I can’t believe he had the nerve to say he ‘respects’ my feelings!” Your emotions spill out as you unload on Eddie, “After everything he did to me, does that look like someone who ‘respects’ my feelings?” 
“It is a pretty shitty thing for him to do,” Eddie agrees, not just coming from the boyfriend perspective, but from any perspective. 
Steve thought that by acknowledging your feelings upfront, it would ease his case. However, upon reflection, you realized it was more about saving face for the hurtful way he left you, attempting to depict himself in a more favorable light.
“Right?!” The audacity Steve had to arrive at your door, unannounced, just before your date with Eddie. God, Eddie. It was a brief but uncomfortable moment. Steve knew you were friends with Eddie, he never bothered to understand the depth of your relationship because he didn’t care enough to meet your other friends. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” you say, feeling remorseful.  
“For what?” he chuckles softly because can’t believe what you're apologizing for.
“I didn’t expect to see Steve today,” you explain. 
“That’s not on you,” he assures, “remember, I told you they always come back.” 
“True,” you agree, “but that’s not what I want.” 
“What do you want, then?” he asks.
“You,” you admit, “just you, Eddie,” reaching for his free hand to hold for assurance. 
Yeah, Steve wasn’t going to fool you.  
Steve had the nerve to try to steal you from your boyfriend. 
During the initial months, Steve made attempts to regain your favor. You questioned repeatedly whether you could genuinely consider being just friends with him. That had been his original intention after breaking your heart, but he failed to uphold his end of the deal. Was it worth attempting to rebuild a friendship with him? Would it reflect poorly on your judgment if you did? Could you bear being around Steve in any capacity? If Eddie hadn’t arrived on time for your date that evening, you didn’t know how much more of Steve's admission you could take before you hit another breaking point. 
“I’ve been thinking a lot about you,” Steve begins, pausing, his mouth opening and closing as he carefully chooses his next words, “I miss you.” He observes your lack of response before continuing, “I miss us. We worked…and I really want to try and get to that again…to what we had.” 
You can see it was difficult for him to admit this. Seeing your unphased reaction, he begins to ramble and talk out of his ass, “I mean, only if you want to. I can understand if you don’t. I do respect your feelings.” 
You knew you didn’t have the mental or even emotional capacity to deal with Steve at that moment, and fortunately, the interaction didn’t progress any further. More importantly, it didn’t ruin your date with Eddie. 
Steve’s graduation, once an event you looked forward to celebrating, was now a canceled event on your calendar. While you wished you could’ve joined in celebrating, Eddie had unfortunately not passed his exams again. Hopefully, on his third attempt, he will be able to graduate and walk the stage with you next year. 
You had started working at a music store, which you enjoyed because it allowed you to be surrounded by something you loved – music. Eddie particularly appreciated the employee discount, a place to hang around during your shifts, though he seemed less excited about the store’s proximity to a certain video store.
It was inevitable that Steve would eventually walk in. Initially, your classmate and presumably Steve’s co-worker, now friend, Robin accompanied him. Over time, Steve started coming in alone, conveniently when Eddie wasn’t hanging around. 
It wasn’t that you were afraid to be alone with him, and Eddie trusted you; he simply didn’t trust Steve. Despite Steve not being the same person from high school, multiple events humbling him, his efforts to revive your past relationship persisted. Although his approach was more subdued than before and masked as friendship, there was still an underlying motive. It was no secret either that you were in a relationship with Eddie. 
Given the small-town geography of Hawkins, you accepted Steve wasn’t going to just disappear. You managed to adapt to his presence. While you couldn’t deny that this attention boosted your ego, you were resolute about not revisiting the past with him. 
“So, I’ve got a copy of Pretty In Pink hot off the press,” Steve announced, showcasing proof of the video tape during another lunch break he spent at your workplace with you on a slow day. “Interested in watching it with me tonight?” he asked, trying to sound smooth and hopeful, adding and emphasizing “as friends,” though not convincingly considering you haven’t agreed to any plans with Steve let alone as that. 
You glanced at him, then at the tape in his hands, and then back at him. “Thanks, but I’m not really into rom-coms,” you replied with a small smile. 
“What? Since when?” he asked, visibly surprised. 
“Since forever…” you answered with a light laugh that almost sounded like a scoff. It internally annoys you because as a former partner, he should’ve known that.
“Oh,” he said, setting the tape down on the counter between you. 
“Yeah,” you drawled, trying to fill the ensuing awkward silence. Fortunately, the door chimed, signaling a new customer – saved by the bell, literally.  
“Babe, you’re gonna love me! I convinced Robin to save me a copy of Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, and she fucking delivered,” Eddie exclaimed excitedly about tonight’s movie, barely noticing Steve’s presence until he reached the register. “Oh, hey, man.” 
It’s amusing yet endearing to see Eddie straighten up and square his shoulders around Steve, as if they were in competition. You couldn’t blame Eddie for feeling that way, though he really had no reason to worry he’d lose. 
“Hey,” Steve replied, shoving the copy of the romantic comedy aside, embarrassed that he had forgotten your preference for horror movies. 
As you and Eddie enthusiastically discussed the sequel, Steve felt out of place, as if you and Eddie were in your own little world, completely forgetting he was still standing there. He couldn’t contribute to the conversation because he hadn’t seen the first movie and didn’t know anything about it to share in the excitement. Eventually, he quietly slipped away with the tape in hand, on the short trek back to Family Video concluding his lunch break. 
The notion of ‘forgive and ‘forget’ was bullshit. While you could be civil, deep down, you still harbored hurt and anger over what happened. Much of the past year was spent in an emotional decline that affected various aspects of your life – home, social interactions, physical and mental well-being. Now, however, you were focused on reclaiming your happiness. Places and things around town that once reminded you of Steve and your past relationship no longer brought sadness; you were forging new memories with someone else.  
Whether it be in a friend or significant other, Eddie was like your rock. He was there from the start, witnessing your first date with Steve and even expressing his reservations about him. Yet, he knew he had to let you navigate life, love and mistakes on your own. Despite any reckless choices you made, even those that disappointed him, Eddie remained a source of comfort and support because he genuinely cared for you. 
Growing closer to Eddie was a breath of fresh air compared to Steve. You didn’t feel the need to impress Eddie; he was always impressed by you. Reflecting on it, you realized how much you had changed to fit in Steve’s world, which now seemed almost pathetic. With Eddie, you don’t have to change anything – your clothes, your diet, your friends, or your interests. He respected you for who you were. 
It’s ironic that just as you’re back on track and happy, Steve wants to interfere. What’s even sadder is that he promised an explanation but hasn’t delivered, yet he’s actively pursuing you. So what? You tell your ex you still have feelings for them and miss what you both had. What did he expect? That he was Steve Harrington and you’d jump back into his arms? No. He had moved on, supposedly, and so did you, finally. 
Part of you cherished early memories with Steve, and you weren’t going to fail to admit that during the initial attempts, you entertained the thought of what if you got back with him. However, he’s the reason why you struggled to move on and became recluse. Who knows? Maybe he learned from his mistakes or not. What he did to you, he did to her and would likely repeat to others. He only proved that second chances sometimes didn’t matter because rarely do people change. You concluded you couldn’t be more than what you currently were to Steve. 
He was the one who chose to end the relationship. He was the one who decided you weren’t enough for him. He was the one who chose to engage with another woman. He was the one who strung you along. He's the one who decided to cut you off. And now, he’s the one seeking a way back in. It was comical because all the tactics he used the first time he convinced you to go out on a date with him didn’t work this time. It had him trying harder and he was failing miserably. You were now the one living rent-free in his head. 
The events of this whole situation have allowed you to build emotional strength and learn to love yourself and someone else again. You were happy, and happy with Eddie. You weren’t going to let something silly as an 80/20 rule or a past relationship with Steve interfere with that happiness.
Yet, it goes to show the nerves of some people. 
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Post A/N: I wish I had this happier ending in real life. Please like, comment and/or reblog. It’ll motivate me to write more and you know also help my self-esteem.
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Imagine you are meeting a friend of a friend at a group lunch. Let us swap the genders here for this hypothetical. You are a dude and your friend is a dude and the friend of the friend is a dude. The first thing the new dude does after introductions is hold up his phone and say: "this is my fiancée. she's too fat for me, but this is her."
okay! fucked up. weird! despite this, you want to be a good friend to your friend so you keep up social pleasantries. later on you're all hanging out at your house, except your fiancée is upstairs, out of earshot. the friend of a friend starts showing you random girls on tiktok. "look at how hot and skinny this one is!" when you are UNCOMFORTABLE, the friend of a friend starts to go after your tastes and your partner: "oh, you're not into that shit? you like them fat? your fiancée is fat, so that's your thing?"
absolutely INSANE, right? you'd know that was supremely fucked up?
okay, but because we were all women, discussing men, and male height, everyone acted like this wasn't supremely fucking weird, that this person I just met was in my house insisting I look at videos of half naked tall men on "bigtok" was just being cool and edgy. I knew I lost when I defensively said, he's average height! Because I was accepting her framing the moment I was defensive: I was agreeing that short men are inherently undesirable, and only someone with a kink about it would want a short man, and being accused of having said kink was such an insult that I had to defend myself because I felt attacked. And I'm not wrong--it was an attack. She was trying to insult me and she's in my too big house that my husband bought for us to live in with our then still alive dog, and he just bought her and multiple friends dinner and we're obviously in love with each other so all she can ding me on is his height, so she did, so insistently that it worked.
And I think back to this sometimes because I hate that I caved, I hate that I was so surprised and taken aback by this (very stereotypically feminine mean girl) bullshit hostility. I hate that I was surprised and and weak and so concerned with being a good hostess that I was stuck in nice girl socialization mode. Had I been expecting a fight this is so easily the kind of thing I would sneer and say "so?" at, possibly before devolving into increasingly personal attacks. I am not above that. But here I was trying too hard to be nice and I was so stupid! And I hate that! I hate that when you're trying to be nice you can be caught off guard like that! I hate that most of the time I expect people to be mean so I'm ready and one of the few times I was determined to be nice this bitch was insane to me IN MY OWN HOUSE.
also she said some wildly fucking racist shit completely unrelated to height and when I think about this incident I also just think that all morality aside, it's so fucking gauche to insult your host who just bought you AND multiple other people he doesn't even know a very nice meal and then invited you into his house. like legitimately I would never be so ungracious. if you look down on someone so much based on racial categories and IDK, height???!!! then don't break bread with them in the first place! or EVEN THEN, just eat your food and talk shit later when you're back in your own home. damn.
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dimensionalspades · 1 year
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Strike-Commander Morrison
Since B.lizz hasn't given us further info on O.verwatch's timeline that I know of, I'll go over what's canon for the blog.
Jack was hesitant to accept the promotion, because in his eyes, Ana and Gabriel were both better picks. In the end, he decided to accept after some talking with core O.verwatch members, especially Gabe, Ana, and Gabrielle.
Aside from trying to manage the trauma from the Crisis, Jack spent a lot of the initial months trying to adjust to the position, leading to high stress and some blatantly wrong decisions on the political side. He was still a soldier, and that meant that he needed to take care of his people. Their lives and livelihoods were in his hands, and he took that seriously. Most of his early failures followed themes of unpreparedness, rash decision-making, lack of decorum, or just making the wrong choices regarding certain aspects of leadership. The public was slow to trust O.verwatch in the beginning due to this, but Jack continued to adapt and work through issues, throwing his entire life into O.verwatch.
Jack, for all his faults, was an unflinchingly kind man who spent most of his time campaigning for O.verwatch to help in the most affected areas of the world, often going head to head with some higher-ups over that. In addition, Jack was often embroiled in arguments with people who wanted to gear O.verwatch towards a more militaristic institution, as Jack found they would be better served with doctors and scientists. He still went on missions at this time, O.verwatch acting as ancillary or emergency help in other countries at first.
That continued as time went on, and Jack most often tried to keep this version of Overwatch at the forefront. He joined missions less and less because of the workload, leading to a bit of his own crisis as he asked whether or not he was still a soldier (whether he still wanted to be treated as a solider as he got farther from the battlefield). Ultimately, he still defined himself as a soldier more than a politician, though he tried to balance to two when the situation called for it. He pushed on trying to hire the best of the best when it came to doctors, climate scientists, and leaders both on and off the field. In many aspects, his most trusted people were Ana, Vivian, and Gabe, though the last relationship would sour as time went on and they fought more and more.
Despite his desire to focus on O.verwatch's medical and scientific teams, he couldn't ignore Talon. While Jack was kind in as much as he could, Talon was where most of his disdain went. He was glad to make an enemy of them, publicly denouncing them too many times to count and working against them at every turn. Though they were evenly matched in many ways, Talon tended to take the upper hand at times, given their lack of moral constraints. Jack dedicated as much time and effort to fighting Talon on all fronts as he could, though he still found time to argue for O.verwatch's cause in the meantime.
He was not infallible, and this includes many decisions regarding B.lackwatch and his refusal to either earnestly question Gabe or put a stop to certain activities/missions. And on more than a few occasions, Jack was happy to look the other way as B.lackwatch struck against Talon in some capacity. As much as Antonio's death wasn't one he shed a tear over, it was something of a wakeup call to what he was enabling. While he and Gabe had been at odds for a year or two by then, it only intensified when B.lackwatch was shut down. In addition to other stresses, Jack struggled to maintain things while Overwatch began to crumble.
However, he truly believed that he could reunite the warring parts of Overwatch at the conference in the Swiss headquarters, but that was demolished when the building was destroyed with them in it.
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perenlop · 1 year
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another wc take is that the girlbossification of mapleshade is boring as hell
#why was she suddenly involved in like. everything.#as a crookedstar's promise truther she was honestly at her best in that book imo bc she was one fucked up woman#who took it upon herself to torture the bloodline of a man who hurt her even years after hes gone and no one knows his name#and the descendants have done absolutely nothing to deserve her vitriol. like she was hurting but what made her a villain#was how she took it out on a literal child who was already being treated like shit by his mom#this is also why i dont like takes that are like ''oh shes a good person actually she was just angry and mad and everyone wronged her#and shes actually a nice ghost that helps people'' bc that was never who she was and she was still fucked up for the murder#im not saying shes a bad character for doing that like shes an antagonist and i appreciate her#but i feel like ppl latched onto her being the one female villain and went ''oh my god shes a girlboss shes so awesome and not bad actually'#do u think mapleshade had girlpower when she made a disabled child watch his family die bc of a bloodline he cant control#to an extent its kinda like how ppl treat thistle? who's obviously much much worse than her but like its the same#''oh its bad writing for them to be punished and treated as antagonists bc they had like one nice thing at one point-#and that one nice moment outweighs every single evil thing they did even if it was literal child murder. its ok if ur sad#''#idk i think its obnoxious like its in the books and the fanon at this point and its just made me bored of her character#sometimes less is more and when u start trying to excuse her actions or forcing her into everyone else's story#the character has a lot less impact#like i still remember her ranting at the end of crookedstars promise when she was raging at crookedstar that he shouldnt have been born#i dont think i remember anything from like. tigerclaws fury or whatever.#echoed voice
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non-un-topo · 2 years
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The cis male ability to mansplain a subject I myself brought up astounds me. Like I actually want to study them under a microscope. My guy, I brought it up. Why are you explaining it back to me?
#anyway went to dinner with my partner's fam. actually had a good time but their father is still their father.#the waiter did his best not to even acknowledge my existence. talked to my partner's dad exclusively even though there were five of us.#he also retold the story of agamemnon (something to do w the wine we picked) and i perked up like !!!!! yes i've read it!!!#i kept coming in like yeah that's right!! but the man did not even look at me once. he was even standing so he was turned away from me.#but to explain the mansplain thing sdfghfdss.... i mentioned i was reading the name of the rose#and FIL bulldozed anything i was going to say about it and started explaining it to me as if i'd never read it? or heard of umberto eco?#my guy i literally just brought it up.#i've been noticing this shit happening a lot more lately. got serious woman-in-her-20s syndrome.#i'm simultaneously a 15 year old girl and a ghost. whoa the tiny little woman has heard of this extremely famous greek tragedy?? noooo#oh my god and she likes to read?? and she likes history too?? no she doesn't she's wrong let me explain her own interest to her.#sometimes i sit there and i honestly want to scream. like would you like to know what i know??? for once?? because i actually know things.#anyway i know exactly why cis men do this i know all the cogs. and i have no patience for it.#in good news my partner and i managed to steal a few moments alone at a book store and i bought a few history books#whose subjects would absolutely pop my sexist FIL's mind like a grape. i'm fucking pissed off. okay. i'm good i'm done.
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atrwriting · 5 months
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trust me -- billy the kid x barowner!reader
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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
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 7 months
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“Psst! Old Geezer!”
“The fuck did you just call me–!” Dick Grayson was a lot of things–cop, detective, vigilante, handsome beyond mortal comprehension–but he wasn’t old! Twenty-three was not old! When he got his hands on that brat– “Oh, it’s you. You need to knock it off, kid.”
The kid in question had become something of a legend to the Central Bloodhaven Police Department. Detective O’Mallery had dubbed the kid “Stalky,” but Dick thought Lurky was a more accurate name; the kid lurked outside murder scenes, often showing up before the press… and sometimes, before the cops. Lurky was a short kid, easily half Dick’s height, and pale. He practically glowed, lighting up the alley Dick was guarding. He wore a black overcoat that swamped his tiny body, with the sleeves and hem cut to fit the child’s frame and a stiff gothic collar that reached his ears. Lurky’s black hair and blue eyes uncomfortably reminded Dick of—
“Nah, i don’t think i will,” the kid dismissed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “‘Sides, you can’t do anything to stop me.”
“I can arrest you,” Dick said, completely serious. “You’re interfering with a crime scene, again. I’d be well within my rights to do so.” The kid looked unimpressed. 
“Okay, boomer.”
Dick resisted the urge to murder a child. Barely. 
“Besides,” Lurky continued, “I just wanted to do my civic duty and inform you of the bloody knife three alleys over. Pretty sure it could help solve the crime scene there.” He gestured towards the apartment building behind Dick. “Andrew Grant-Williams, age 36, apartment 214. Right?”
“How the hell did you know that?”
“What, that thing with the knife? I looked for it, obviously.”
“No, about the suspect!” Dick glared at Lurky. “There’s no way you could have pinpointed who in the apartment died; did you steal a police radio!?” If he did, then Dick would actually have to arrest the kid. 
“No, I didn’t steal a police radio. Yet.” Dick tried really hard to ignore that last part. He’d done far worse things as Robin, after all. “His wife told me.”
Andrew Grant’s wife, Patrisa, died four years ago in a mugging gone wrong. Before Dick could question Lurky further, Dick blinked and Lurky vanished just like Batman. 
Even worse? Dick bothered checking the dumpster three alleys over and found, underneath a bag of kitchen scraps, a hunting knife, still bloody. 
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eastbubble · 2 days
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Was wondering if maybe we could get something with ghost x reader who’s outrageously terrified of thunderstorms and calls him sniffling and holding back tears asking if he can come over and then screaming as a very loud bang of thunder booms ? If not that’s okay! I love your work anyway🩷🫵
hello anon, i’m not sure if you wanted me to write this in a smutty way or just a fluffy one but i tried my best >_< i changed the story up a tad if that’s okay. thanks for the request ! <3 and sorry for disappearing ! school and sports r taking up my time. ><
you never really thought that a relationship had any benefits besides having someone to come home to, but when your relationship with simon began you had to realize that this whole idea in your head was completely wrong. he wasn’t just a person to come home to.
maybe because you two still didn’t live together. so you technically couldn’t come home to him.. but you almost lived at his place by now. he was for sure so tired of you calling him in the middle of the night, asking him to come over because of something so silly, something so stupid. spiders in the corner, ants infesting the house, no wifi, bad tv signal, or the worst (in your case); a thunderstorm.
you were listening to the sounds your phone made as you called simon with shaky hands, your finger on the red circle as you were sure he won’t pick up this time. you’ve annoyed him like this so many times before, there was no way he would be willing to help you after all of these — or so you thought. you kept a tissue to soak your tears up with close to your eyes, your vision already blurry from the crying you had done earlier.
“baby? what’s up?” his voice was tired and grumpy, it sounded like he just woke up, but you knew that couldn’t be because he never really slept before 4 am. he never did. “everything okay over there?” slight concern. the only thing you could make out of his words was some worry and that’s it. thank God that he didn’t sound like he was mad.
“si. ‘m scared.”
“huh? what is it? ‘s someone there?” he spoke through the phone. “talk to me, baby.” his voice was a little gentler once he heard your silence on the other end of the line.
you sighed almost silently, making sure he didn’t hear the sniffle that you just let out. you felt like a dumb little kid for crying over something like this, but when you heard the faint sound of a thunder bang you immediately knew that you had to speak up. you actually had someone that was worried for you, waiting for you to say something. “just this.. fucking rain and the whole, um.. the whole thing that comes with it.”
“the thunderstorm, you mean?” his feeling of relief was louder than the wind outside. it was like some kind of weight had been pushed off his shoulders. “don’t tell me it’s that again or-“
“it is. i’m sorry to disturb you.. especially at this hour, but..” you sighed softly again, feeling slightly threatened by his last sentence. you knew you had no reason to be worried or scared but the way he worded what he wanted to say sometimes sounded like he was mad at you (you were so wrong!). “could you please come over. please.” it didn’t sound like a question, just a request.
he audibly sighed. oh, he was annoyed!
“i’ll be there in 10. i suppose you’re in bed so.. stay under the blankets, okay?” what a rhetorical question. you wouldn’t survive climbing out of bed when it sounds like the world in ending outside. you couldn’t even roll the blinds down to make the thunders less visible, there was absolutely no way you would step foot outside your bed at a time like this.
and just like he promised, ten minutes later he was already entering your home with his own keys, making his way towards your bedroom as he immediately lay on top of you like a weighted blanket that was alive. he wrapped his arms tightly around you, holding you close to his chest while you still lay under him, completely motionless as he was practically squeezing every last breath out of you. “si..!”
“i’m here, ‘s okay luv..” he mumbled, his voice raspy as he finally let you go. he rolled onto his back and gently scooped you up into his arms, making you fight back a bit and you two ended up in such a position where you were just laying flat on top of him. he chuckled lightly as he felt like he already succeeded — it seemed like you immediately forgot about the thunderstorm outside as soon as he arrived and grabbed you.
the rest of the night was basically the same thing on repeat. soft little movements, your bodies moving in unison everytime either you or him made the silent suggestion to shift positions. he always kept his large palms close to your ears in case a loud thunder were to interrupt the long cuddle-session. the whole thing was just about holding each other close through the whole night and not letting go.
soft little murmurs of how sleepy you are were the only things to be heard now, alongside the loud sounds of the icy rain hitting your window. well, summerime weather is weird.
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Splitting in all the fucking directions at once
#silk#idk what the fuck to do with myself#i still love him but. idk if i wanna go back after what he did#or i mean i do cause supposedly he's different now supposedly he's tryin to be better#but idk if that's just for doll. i used to be included in that but i guess not anymore#i just. don't understand why. was he just lashin out? was that some kinda fucked up indirect way of dumping me?#like goddamnit just fucking tell me if you don't want me anymore you don't havta hit me where you know it hurts the worst#if i ask the friends they're gonna tell me not to do it i know i know it's stupid but. i really do love him#even if i go a little crazy sometimes. i've never actually hurt him. not physically not with words#he's the one always tearin me apart in all the ways#idk if it was just a momentary thing or if he wanted to be rid of me#cause i'm too much of a temptation to go back to his old ways? you don't. you don't havta do any of that with me either#ya know i like the soft gentle stuff too it's just that you never wanna do that with me cause ya know you can get away with the rough stuff#cause i'm the only one of us that likes it#is he tryin to go exclusive even though he already knows doll doesn't mind if it's me?#why can't he just fucking tell me instead of doin shit to try n fuck me up#i wouldn't bother him anymore if he just told me he doesn't want me#now i'm just. i don't know what to do. is it a punishment? did i do somethin bad?#i know i had the knife on me again but like always it ended up in his hands so. can't have been that big of a deal#& he always said he'll tell us if we do somethin wrong cause we won't learn if we don't know what it was#it's some fucking mind game again but i don't know i don't understand even if he doesn't care about me like he does about doll#he could still use me as an outlet for the stuff doll doesn't like. i'm not askin for anythin more. just don't. don't fucking leave me.#it's all been for him always what the fuck am i supposed to do if he doesn't want me anymore#spdrvent
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kooqitas · 1 month
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— playing in the park lot ★ with: jjk!
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#pairings: bf!jungkook X reader #synopsis: after getting a little too angry at a random guy wanting his girlfriend, jungkook decides to give him a present. #tags: pwp, angry sex, public sex, no condom, spit kink, both drunk. #notes: JUST STREAM HOPE ON THE STREET! #wc: 1,4k blog em português X twitter
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"no, don't even start, jungkook!" you muttered as soon as you saw your boyfriend staring at the guy on the other side, bringing the beer bottle to his mouth and swallowing the liquid in visible hatred.
"i'm not starting anything! the guy over there has no respect and is eating you with his eyes," muttered, still staring at the man.
"half the party is also staring at you and eating you up with their eyes, and that's not why i'm freaking."
"of course not, you like this shit!" he said loudly, pulling your waist against his.
don't take this the wrong way, jungkook was the perfect boyfriend, he cared for you too much, he'd face a bullet for you or whatever, he just fucking loved you and wanted to protect you from everything and everyone.
but sometimes he went overboard, and that was one of the times.
god, jungkook was completely irritated just because a guy looked at you from afar, and yes, you knew it wasn't an innocent look, but you just ignored it.
"do i like that shit?" you asked offended. "jungkook, if I wanted to fuck with another guy, i would have done it a long time ago." you rolled your eyes, continuing to roll around to the music that was playing. "relax, baby, hm? you know i'm just yours, don't you?"
you stood on your tiptoes, trying to give your annoyed boyfriend a kiss, but it didn't do much good, jungkook was actually angry about the situation, god, how could anyone be so stupid?
for the next few seconds, your boyfriend finally calmed down a bit, continuing to dance with you. that was one of the things you liked most about jungkook, he wasn't the kind of guy who held your waist and expected you to roll around on him all night, he just drove you crazy with him. pressing his hips against yours, rubbing his cock in your body, dancing with jungkook was begging to get wet in his arms, and you liked it that.
due to the large amount of alcohol you had consumed, the need to go to the bathroom became apparent, so you left, heading for the bathroom and leaving jungkook on the dance floor.
you waited a few minutes, the waiting line was infinitely long and peeing yourself silly was always an event.
a comical event, by the way.
but as soon as you'd finished, washed your hands and touched up your lipstick in the mirror, you left the bathroom, looking for your boyfriend on the dance floor.
or at least trying to, since a large hand grabbed your waist.
and you knew that hand wasn't your boyfriend.
"hey, kitten, decided to give your boyfriend a break, have you?"
"don't touch m-"
you didn't even get to finish, because the next second jungkook was punching the face of the guy who tried to kiss you.
and that's the story of how you and jungkook got kicked out of the club.
shit.
"there's no point in getting angry, jungkook! i didn't do anything."
silence.
"fuck, aren't you going to say anything?"
his boyfriend didn't answer, keeping silent all the way to the parking lot where the car was.
and that's where you got angry. fuck, it could have been anyone's fault but yours, you'd done absolutely nothing.
"jungkook, it's not my fault you're a lunatic who doesn't know how to socialize in public, stop acting like i did something." you pulled him by his arm, spitting the words in his face.
"you knew he was dying to fuck you."
"and what the hell do i have to do with it? literally the only person who fucks me in this world is you, shit! if i wanted to give it to another guy i would have given it to him ages ago, now, if you're going to get angry about something that didn't even happen, maybe i should go back inside and fuck with him!" you shouted.
you didn't even see how it happened, but the next minute jungkook's body was pressing you down on the hood of the car, his wet tongue making a mess of your mouth and his hard cock rubbing against you as he pulled your skirt up roughly.
"jung-jungkook, the cameras." you tried to say, the words being swallowed by the mouth on yours.
"now you care if anyone can see you?" he laughed. "you don't want to fuck, sweetheart? you're going to fuck me right here, right now!"
it would be a lie to say that it didn't turn you on, unfortunately that was a truth you were forced to deal with, jungkook's jealousy made you horny, very horny, and the insanities he committed after a crisis gave you the best orgasms ever seen in the history of the face of the earth.
in the process of lifting your skirt, he ended up breaking the zipper, and too irritated, he just ripped the strap of your thin blouse, exposing your breasts there as he leaned over the hood and started sucking on your nipples.
his nimble hand went to your wet hole, rubbing his middle finger over the lace panties you were wearing. yes, it was a fact that you intended to end the night with jungkook's cock inside you.
you just didn't count on the element of surprise that it would happen to him in the parking lot of the club.
"that dirty little cunt got wet seeing me jealous, didn't it? go ahead, whore, you love it when other guys get desperate to cum in you and i get angry."
without any warning he penetrated your middle and ring fingers, quickly establishing a punishing rhythm while biting and sucking on your nipples.
you moaned something disconnected, your boyfriend looked so handsome with rage and that made you even hornier.
a third finger was added and with your loud scream jungkook took the opportunity to spit in your mouth, slapping you across the face immediately afterwards.
it was pathetic how he put you over the edge in such a short time, and it was only a matter of seconds before you screamed that you were going to come on his fingers.
but he wouldn't let you.
jungkook flipped you onto your back in an aggressive way, the cold metal of the car in contact with the nipples of your breasts was enough to make you cum, but everything got even better when jungkook put his thick cock in your cunt, slamming it hard against you while bending your body even more on the hood of the car.
"my cockslut, you're such a beautiful little whore for me, baby. let me fuck your hot little hole right here where everyone can see you."
and you contracted hearing those words.
"you like it, don't you? desperate for your man to fill your pussy with my cum, you'll take anything i want, right?"
the heavy hand slapping against your ass, leaving red marks, while you drooled on the hood of the car because you couldn't even close your mouth.
"i'd like to take you back inside and spurt in your pussy in front of everyone. you'd love it, wouldn't you? everyone seeing that you're so desperate for cock that you'll accept me fucking you anywhere."
"j-jungkook!" you moaned, and your boyfriend understood what that moan was all about.
jungkook moved his middle finger to your clitoris, making relaxed movements while he thrust into you, calling you a whore, a slut, a bitch. you could only moan.
and when he pressed your face even harder against the side of the car, you came, so hard that Jungkook came right after, filling your hole with his warm liquid.
"good, baby, you were so good! so perfect for me…"
you smiled, feeling good about your recent orgasm.
"shhh, hold on, don't get up yet!" jungkook took his cell phone out of his pocket, squatting down to record a short video of you lying on the hood of the car and leaking his cum. "so beautiful, so fucking mine, i love you so much, princess."
jungkook kissed your back, and as you lifted your head you saw that he was staring at a specific point in the parking lot.
the guy who hit on you was watching everything from the other side.
your boyfriend laughed before helping you into your clothes, or at least what was left of them…
he blew a lazy kiss to the man who was staring at everything and opened the car door.
"you're bad, jungkook!" you laughed.
"me? fuck, princess, you're the one who agreed to give it to me this cunt in the middle of the parking lot."
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mrsbarnesblog · 1 month
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i need help
summary: Rafe has a breakdown and he finally asks for help
word count: 1.4k
warnings: angsty and fluffy?, crying, mentions of drugs and alcohol, ward is the worst father (this is ward’s hate space btw💋)
a/n: I just want to baby him. so yeah, soft/clingy Rafe again because apparently, I can’t write anything else right now🙂
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You were sitting on Rafe’s bed, patiently listening to his firm footsteps on the staircase. The room was dimly lit only by a lamp from the nightstand and you fought back an urge to fall on your back and fall asleep with your face in his pillow. 
Yet the harsh and cold voice made your head clear of your thoughts and you finally noticed your best friend walking into his own room. 
“What are you doing here?” Rafe grumbled at you as soon as he slammed the door, turned the lock and turned around, only to see you sitting on his bed.
“What?” His bloodshot eyes were burning holes into you and you innocently blinked at him, not understanding why he was acting so weird.
“I said, what–”
“Don’t yell at me.” You interrupted him calmly. “We wanted to hang out; it’s been a few days since it was just the two of us. You never complain when I come here.”
“Ye-yeah, fuck…sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You watched how Rafe started pacing around the room, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He was almost shaking, his hair looking like a mess, and you would’ve thought that he was on the verge of tears. “I’m not in the mood right now, okay? We’ll do it another time. Can you leave now? I– I need to be alone.”
“No, Rafe, I’m not leaving. What happened?” Your brows furrowed, concern and nerves bubbling inside of your body as you watched how your friend and the guy you had a crush on was slowly breaking down. 
“Nothing. Nothing happened, Y/N.” He mumbled, still not staying in one place. “Just go.”
“I told you no.” 
 “Why can’t you listen to what I’m fucking telling you?!” Rafe snapped, stepping closer to you as if he were trying to scare you away. Yet you remained still in your place, not even flinching. Your brows shot up in silent question,  eyes were glued to his face, and especially to the way his own eyes became more glassy and watery with every second. “Fuck, fuck—I'm sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to yell at you.” 
“Then don’t. You know I hate it when you’re doing it, Rafe.” You continued calmly. “Sit here and tell me what happened. I see that something’s wrong. It’s been that way for a long time, right? You’re acting differently… C’mere.” You patted the bed near you, giving Rafe a reassuring smile. 
“I don’t know what to do, Y/N.” Sitting near you on the bed and holding his head in his hands, Rafe spoke so quietly that you could barely hear him. “I’m going insane. I have issues and nobody hears me.” You slowly, as if you were touching a wounded animal, put your hand on his back, slowly moving it up and down. 
“Tell me. I’m here and I hear you. Please tell me what’s going on.” You tried to sound as soft as you could, moving a little bit closer. “You know you can trust me.”
“There’s something wrong with me. I— I have thoughts in my head that I don’t like. They’re bad. They’re wrong. I don’t want to be violent or feel these things inside of me but I c-can’t stop. They’re stronger than I am and sometimes they’re messing with my head.” Rafe’s voice cracked at the end and you felt the violent beating of your heart in your chest. He sniffed a few times, desperately trying to be strong in front of you and to hide the disgusting things that were eating him up alive. 
“Are they dangerous to others or to you?” 
“Both.”
You slowly nodded, processing the information and trying not to show the way it actually freaked you out. Did you know that Rafe struggled with anger and was not everyone's favorite person? Well, yes. He was nothing but sweet to you, though. You saw that he was a nice person, with a good heart. The only thing that he wanted in return was to feel needed, important, and loved. 
And you always gave it to him. 
But realizing that there were problems so much deeper and that he was now screaming for help because he could not live like that anymore made you wonder how you could be so stupid to not notice the signs earlier.
“Did you talk to your dad about it? Maybe anyone else? Or is it just me? ” You finally reached Rafe's face with your hand, turning him in your direction. You’ve never seen him even shed a tear, not to mention the state that he was in right now and it was shocking how much it hurt you too. The look in his pretty eyes was so desperate and so hurtful that you felt sick.
“He told me to man up. Cool, right? Can’t even do shit without disappointing him. I–I said that I have problems, but he just ignored it. He told me to rest and that it'd be okay.” He smiled at you, even though tears were still freely streaming down his face. “I just thought that maybe once he would hear me. See me. Not Sarah. I’m so fucking tired of it.” He shook his head and looked down. “So it’s only you. Nobody really cares about me anyway, so...”
“Oh, Rafe… Come here.” He wasn’t resisting when you dragged him closer to you by his arm. No, instead, he wrapped his arms around you as if his life were depending on it. You hugged Rafe back, slowly lowering both of you on the bed, until he was lying almost on top of you with his face in the crook of your neck and your fingers slowly brushing through his hair.
What you noticed is that Rafe was always cautious with physical contact. Sometimes it seemed like he tried to be closer to you, sit near you, or casually play with your hands or hair, but the next day he was completely dispant and hesitant. 
It was obvious that now Rafe lowered his guards; he let you see the damaged parts of him and he craved your touch because it was the only thing that could ground him. 
“I need help. I’m tired of this shit in my head, and I don’t want to continue ruining my life with alcohol and drugs…but it just calms everything down for some time and I don’t know how to come out of this circle.” Rafe sobbed harder, his arms wrapping around you even more, until you were closer than you'd ever been before. Your own eyes were filled with tears, but you refused to show them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being such a disappointment. P-please don’t walk away.” 
You knew about Rafe’s lifestyle, but despite your words, he always made it seem like not a big deal, like something fun that he does at parties. Though now it was obvious that the facade that he had built was slowly falling down and drowning him in it too. 
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Rafe. It’s not your fault. But you do need help, darling.” You whispered, pet name rolling from your tongue faster than you could’ve processed it. “It’s important that you understand it. And I’m not leaving. It’s the last thing that should be in your head.”
“I do. I want to get clean. I want to be normal. I just don’t know how.” 
“That’s okay. I’m here for you, yeah? Your dad may not hear you, but I do and I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together tomorrow, okay? Now you need to rest a little bit.” You reached the end of the bed, dragging a duvet and covering both of you with it. Rafe didn't move an inch from your warmth.
“You promise?”
“I promise, Rafe. You mean a lot to me; you know that, right? More than you think.” You whispered, soothingly brushing his blond hair again.
“You mean a lot to me too. More than you think.”    
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rafesslxt · 4 months
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Wrong tie | Mattheo Riddle
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summary: y/n noticed a little too late what tie she is wearing.. explains the dirty looks her house gave her
warnings: language, y/n wearing the false tie, flirting, gryffindor!Reader
note: English is not my first language, have fun 🫶🏻
You woke up in a complete haze. You couldn‘t even open your eyes as the sun hit you right in the face through the open curtains.
Damn what time is it? You streched your arms over the other side of the bed and took your alarm clock in your hands. While rubbing your eyes and yawning you took a look at it and shoot up from the bed.
" Fuck fuck fuck!" As fast as you could you got out of bed, seeing that your classes start in 5 minutes.
You had been awake all night long with your boyfriend Mattheo. You sneak in his room at night due to his room alone. Harry borrowed you his invisibility cloak from time to time and every morning before class you would sneek back to your common room.
You put on your clothes and noticed that you don‘t have any books with you but you wouldn‘t get to your class on time if you‘d go back to get them. Then you remembered that you have the first class with your best friends Hermione, Harry and Ron.
You took your cloak and hurried to class, you fold it together and put in your bag. You got into the room, looking at all student, then at your teacher Professor Slughorn. " I‘m sorry Mr. Slughorn, it won‘t happen again." " Oh it‘s alright, dear.. " he looked at you confused for a second. " just sit down and open your books. " he kindly said.
Walking towards the place you shared with your friends you noticed how your house looked at you like you just killed somebody in front of the whole class.
You sat down beside Hermione, who looked at you with wide eyes. Slughorn started the lesson and you whispered " What is it? Do I have something on my face?" She shook her head. " No, uhm.. it‘s more about what‘s under your face." " Huh? "
At the same time some piece of paper landed in front of you. You looked around you and saw Mattheo, smiling devilish at you. You opened the piece of paper and read: " Nice tie baby, let‘s try it on your wrists tonight. - M.R. "
Oh no. You looked down at yourself, eyes wide open as you realised that you took one of your boyfriends tie‘s in a hurry this morning. " Oh my god Hermione, how should I explain this? " " Uhm, you could say that you switched it at the quiddish game in the cabin? "
You turned your head to mattheo seeing him winking at you and biting his lips playfully. Rolling your eyes you still couldn‘t hide your smile.
The things is, beside Mattheo‘s friends and your friends, nobody knew about you two. Both of you wanted to wait a little and just do your thing, without people talking about you all the time. I mean they already did but just because they know you are "friends". Imagine them talking about you If they knew you both were offical dating.
At first Harry was thinking that he used you to come near him and help his father, but he saw the way he looked at you from across the room. Hermione was understanding, even tho she wasn‘t the biggest fan too. But If you‘re happy they are happy. Ron took it badly. He was furious, told you you are a traitor for dating the son of the one who tried to kill them that often, but soon he realised too that you two were madly in love. What did not mean that he wouldn‘t gag sometimes If he heard you kissing in front of them.
A whistle came from the other side of the room. " ey y/n, why don‘t you come sit with us now what you‘re one of us huh?" Draco laughed. You showed him your middle finger and turned back, taking your tie off.
" Damn baby." It slipped right out of Mattheo‘s mouth. Everybody turned around and looked at him. The room went quit and waited for an answer.
" What? Can‘t I think my best friend is hot ? Now turn the fuck back around. " You giggled and shook your head.
What a start for a day.
Agaaaain hope ya‘ll like it. It‘s a bit shorter this time bit I‘m on a trip right now so I don‘t have that much time. Thank you for readinggg 🫶🏻
My masterlist 🪄
xoxo sarah
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