#i missed this fella so i had to include him

[feliner]

final member of my Slugcat Battle Network au :3

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

Petrichor. | joel miller x f!reader, 4.1k

Summary: You underestimate yourself but Joel doesn't like what's his to be degrated. Unless, he's the one doing it. He makes sure you know your place.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, allusion to suicidal thoughts BUT it's a misunderstanding, low self esteem!reader, established relationship, unspecified age gap (make it you own😏), dom!Joel, sub!reader, dd/lg vibes, pet names(darlin', baby, sweetheart, little girl, good girl), degradation kink, praise kink, size kink, daddy kink, oral m!receiving, masturbation f!receiving, dacryphilia, pussy slapping (quite a few), deepthroating, facial, cum eating, aftercare, as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: First of all, thank you for your love on my little drabble Take me, I didn't expect it at all and I'm so glad you liked it, it really means the world! 🙈 Now, for this fella here, I swear to god it was supposed to be a drabble, I even named its draft as such, because I'm so decisive and steady.😂 I don’t know what happened, it started as a pwp but of course I had to go and pepper it with some feelings.🙄 And then @iamasaddie had a smut fic prompt including “Baby, you know, Daddy only hurts you because you look so pretty when you cry.” line and it fitted so damn well, like Joel's cock fits in reader's pussy, so there's that. 🥵🥵

P.S.: I hate summaries, I hate them, I wish someone else would write them for me. Ok, I love you all, let me know what you think!

Song on repeat: The kooks - Sway

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Maybe this is your favorite sound in the world, you think as you hear the rain drops hit the -floor to ceiling- windows of your loft.

Your mind wanders to your childhood memories searching for confirmation. And you think that, yes, this is it. So, it makes perfect sense that your favorite scent is that of the soaked soil after raining. Petrichor. You smile softly to yourself.

He seems to notice that. But then, he always does.

He’s on his side facing you, all 5’11” of his magnificent naked body laying on your bed, his head resting on the pillow. One hand under your neck, as you lay flat on your back, the other reaching for your jawline, turning you to face him instead of the window.

You turn to him, gladly, because this, this is your favorite sight in the world. Him. The soft glow from the lights outside is the only source of illumination and he couldn’t be more beautiful than right now. He makes your heart ache instantly. His calm and safe presence in your life is such a juxtaposition to the shadows of your past, it brings a lump in your throat. You swallow it down.

“Why the smile, baby?” he speaks carefully, like he feels the antithesis of the emotions inside you right now. And there it is, at last. This is the answer you’re looking for. This, this is your favorite sound in the world. His voice.

Your palm lands on the hand petting your cheek. “No reason,” you smile to him, “just feeling content.”

“Are you, though?” he insists after a minute, “feeling content?”

“I-, yeah, of course I do, you know that.”

“Do I?”

“I hope you do. You know what you mean to me, what your presence in my life means to me, right?” your voice is lightly wavering, the lump in your throat lurking still. “And- and I’m so happy with my job and my new place and everyth-”

“Why did you choose this place?”

“You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that. From all the places we’ve seen, why this? I saw in your eyes it did something to you.” And if you ever entertained the idea that maybe some things get past him, you do not anymore. You can’t hide from him. And you find that, oddly, liberating.

“Because it’s everything I'm not; I wanted to challenge myself.”

He’s curious now. After all these bits and pieces over these past few months you’re giving him something more. He knows there’s more. “How so?”

“It’s just-”, you roll your eyes in frustration, trying to compare a space to a person, “so open, so bare, no hiding spaces, you know, open floor and everything, I remember when I first walked in it made me feel uneasy, insecure, intimidated. So I rented it.”, you shrug like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Why would you feel all that?”

He raises his head supporting it on his palm as he studies your profile from his side, seeing your struggle, the waterline of your eyes glassing over, the vein on your forehead bulging. There’s so much you want to tell him, confide in him, confess to him, but you don’t know where to begin. How to sum all this shit up.

“I just- I have lived my life without actually living. I just- existed. I compromised, backed down, let myself be led by people who were supposed to be my family and now-” your lips are trembling and you bite your bottom lip to stop it, your throat is closing, you feel this ache, this burning sensation inside of it, like acid through your veins, making you unable to breathe, let alone speak. Your face turns pinkish, the tears threatening to spill now, the sob ready to explode deep from your chest.

“-I just hate myself-” you mouth through an inaudible cry, still deprived of air in your lungs that they feel like they’re gonna collapse.

His legs straddle yours in a moment of panic, his eyes wide, his pupils blown, his body stiff, ready to engage in some kind of fight. He’s leaning above you, his long torso shadows over you, his huge hand cupping the back of your neck and pulls you in a sitting position underneath him. Your hands grab his forearms in confusion. It -he- makes you feel so tiny, which you are compare to him, but even more so, now that his knees are pressing down on the sides of your hips, holding his weight above your lap so he won’t completely crush you, making your body sink deeper into the mattress and suddenly you’re so small, so insignificant, so unnoticed to the rest of the room, of the apartment, of the world. Except from him. His eyes, raging fires, burning yours as they search for meaning, answers, reassurance. His fist is closing and tugging harshly at the hairs on the back of your neck, demanding all of your attention. The tears run freely down your cheeks now on their own volition, years of restrain and pain unleashed in a blink of an eye.

“Tell me I don’t need to fuckin’ worry about you.” he demands in a harsh tone, his expression painted with anger, desperation, agony.

You open your mouth to respond, but you are at loss for words, your thoughts hazy and confused.

“Tell me!” his voice high and urgent, now mirroring his expression, almost breaking.

And you get it now, you really do. The smell of fear, the fear of loss, the loss of existence.

Your eyes widen, your lips trembling again, “No, no!”, you shake your head violently, his grip on your scalp tightening more, in warning. His expression is torn, like the two faces of Janus, his jaw clenched in disbelief, but his eyes pained, begging, pleading for trust.

Your hands fly around his middle, squeezing him, your fingernails nearly tearing his flesh, “I swear Joel, no, that was not what I meant!” you’re desperate now, how could he think that, doesn’t he know what he means to you?

He doesn’t budge, he doesn’t move a muscle, his eyes keep scanning, keep searching. You try to rest your forehead to his stomach now, how massive he is above you and he allows it. His fist unclench from your hair, cupping your neck again tenderly, his mouth kissing the top of your head. Your arms hug him tighter now, pressing your face to his sweaty skin, inhaling his scent, grounding you, your fingers caressing his broad back up and down. “I swear, I swear.” you keep muttering on his skin, your nose deeply pressed against his firm chest now, barely breathing.

He moves both his hands to the sides of your neck, simply holding you and tilting your head up to look at him. He bends forward to touch your lips with his in a soft kiss, just flesh touching flesh. His forehead resting on yours, he sighs deeply, letting all the weight of the world go through his nostrils. “Don’t you ever-”

“I’m sorry Joel, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant, I promise.” you apologize, pressing your chin to his skin, looking up at him. But his eyes are still searching, not letting this one go.

“I’m just pissed it took me so long to wake up. I’m scared I fucked my life up. I’m scared I missed my chance. I’m scared-” you shake your head slowly in disappointment as you try to explain and Joel keeps his eyes on you, waiting. He nods, he’s listening, he’s here. He’s got you. “I’m scared I’m so broken; there’s nothing left of me to be loved.” you hide your face back to his chest again.

He holds you tight, whispering at the crown of your head, “There’s so much left my darlin’, so much left. And I’m here to pick each and every piece of you up and mend it back together.” And you know he is. You just don’t know if you’re worth the trouble.

Suddently your senses are so overloaded, you just need something to ground you. Hard. His natural musk mixed with sweat and sex from earlier that night hits your nostrils, his soft now cock practically under your nose, on your lap. And there is another answer for you. This, this is your favorite scent in the world. His scent.

You inhale deeply, your forehead pressing on his skin, feeling the sparse hair of his chest and the steady beating of his heart. “I need you Joel.”

He tugs your hair gently to raise your head and looks at you. Really looks at you.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”, he moves his hands cupping your cheeks softly.

“I need you to punish me.” you plead with your eyes closed, embarrassment creeping in.

His breath is hitching in his throat, his eyes darken immediately, “Yeah?”

“Yeah..”

“Use your manners then and ask for it, properly.”

“Please sir, I need you to take control, put me in my place.” you feel your skin shiver, your core warming up again.

He just stares at you, making your heart flutter.

You can feel him hardening, his heavy cock brushing against your stomach. You go to palm him, stroke him to his full potential but he grabs your hand and swats it away.

“You're asking for two different things sweetheart and that tells me you're in a delicate headspace. So, I am taking control from you and I am not going to punish you.” he settles.

“But I wa-”

He raises his brows “Are you sure you want to finish that sentence, little girl?” and that effectively shuts you up and turns you on. He doesn’t speak again, he doesn’t say anything else, he just puts his hand on your throat, resting it there for a second, observing you and then he’s guiding you down on your back.

He straddles you higher, on your chest, now hard in all his glory. He’s a sight to behold. Naturally imposing, no pretenses, it’s just who he is. From his gaze to the sound of his voice and from the broadness of his shoulders to the thickness of his thighs, he’s all man.

You must look awestruck because he smirks softly. You open your mouth to -actually you don’t know what you want to ask, he just caught you off guard, but he beats you to it, explaining the situation clearly.

“When you disrespect yourself, you disrespect me and I will not have that. I will not, under any circumstances tolerate that kind of behavior. Do you understand that?”

You just lay there, mouth agape, eyes confused.

He slaps your cheek not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to sting a bit, to snap you out of your trance.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. So..” he brushes his thumb over your lips, pushing it in slowly, pressing down your tongue, “I’m gonna fuck some manners into that mouth, baby.” Oh, shit. “From now on, when you’re chocking on your tears, it’s gonna be because of me ramming my cock down your throat like it deserves.”

Your breath hitches at his vulgarity, your pupils are blown wide and your slick is running down your ass cheeks now. You suck around his thumb, your thighs pressing together in need of some friction.

“You like that, you little whore?”, he removes his thumb allowing you to respond.

You don't know where you find the nerve but, “I thought you said no disrespect.” you blurt out, you can’t help it, you want to rile him up.

“Oh, she speaks now!”, he raises his eyebrows in amusement. Or in a challenge, you’re not totally sure if you want to find out.

He breaths a laugh, shaking his head in a mockingly condencending way, “I don’t think you understand your place here little girl, so let me break it to you.”

His eyes are glazed over, some sort of wickedness mirroring in them. “Only I get to call you names. No one else. No one. Do you know why that is?” He leans in and looks above your head, a sign that he’s expecting an answer.

“Nnn- no.”

“Manners.”, he shakes your head, your jaw grabbed between his fingers.

“No, sir.”

He’s nodding his head slowly. “That’s because only daddy knows what you need.” You know there's more coming, so you stay silent.

“So, when I say you’re a whore, what do you say?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And when I say you’re my good girl, what do you say?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And when I say you’re gonna take whatever the fuck I give you, what do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Damn right.”, his cock twitches in front of you.

“Please, daddy.” You start whining and squirming underneath him, all needy and wet.

Yes, this is right. He is right. This is how you need it. This is how it should be. If your throat’s gonna hurt and burn and swell it’s gonna be from the invasion of Joel’s cock and not from the insecurities caused from your past.

“Please..” you keep whining.

“Manners, ‘mnot gonna ask again.”, he demands sternly. “And quit your whining, it won't get you anywhere good; got it?”

“Please, sir, let me touch you, pretty please.” you try with a steadier voice.

“Now, now, that’s a good girl right there, hm?” that seems to satisfy him. “Ok, baby, go on.”

Your trembling hands roam slowly all over his chest, then his stomach and the swell of his belly, moving all the way down to his thighs and finally up to the v of where they meet with his pelvis, massaging, caressing and squeezing him softly, circling your fingers around the base of his thick cock.

You're threading them through his pubic hair, your thumbs caressing lightly under him, on his scrotum. He inhales sharply, shivers raising the hairs on his forearms. You press his waist down on you more, resting his weight on you, his warm balls touching your sternum, his hands flat on his thighs.

Joel's eyes are trained on your face, studying you, recognizing the same want, the same desire and thirst that he feels, as you worship him. You raise your head trapping his cockhead under your chin, giving hot, open mouthed kisses to his base and his veiny shaft like you would make out with his mouth. You let him slide to the side of your face, his precum painting your cheek as you bring his cock above you, kissing and licking his underside, lightly sucking his protruding vein.

His eyes darken, enough of your teasin’. He fists his cock, stroking it slowly once, twice, his thumb pressing it down to guide it into your salivating mouth. He swipes his tip across your lips, smearing his precum all over them.

“What do you do if you want me to stop?”, he checks with you.

“Joel..” you drag the vowels of his name on your tongue.

“Show. Me.”, he demands, so you move your hand to his thigh and you tap three times.

“Good. Now, open.”

You just want to consume him, suck his soul out of his perfect slit. So, you obey, sticking your tongue out. He taps his wide head on your wet muscle one, two, three times and then he invades you, moving his hips forward.

There’s something so undeniably erotic about the movement of his pelvis, like a statement, I choose to give and you accept to take, a balancing of the dynamic between you; you could watch him thrust into you forever.

You take him in as far as you can manage without chocking. The feel of every vein and ridge filling your mouth, dragging on your tongue, is driving you crazy.

You hollow your cheeks and start bobbing your head back and forth in rhythm with his thrusts, while your tongue swirls over his delicious pink head, so soft and velvet, your cunt clenches at the memory of it stretching your tight cunt.

You exhale loudly through your nose, and you’re in a frenzy now, you can’t keep a pace or build him slowly up as you’d normally do. You need him now, all of him, as fast and hard as you can, or you’re gonna die, you think. Your eyes roll back and you’re moaning so loud, Joel feels the vibrations from tip to base.

“F-fuck”, he’s taken aback from your fervor, his jaw slack and his brows pinched together from the intensity of your pace.

“Mnot gonnghhhh-”, he groans deeply, every thought of dominance long gone when you’re giving him head like this. Normally, he’d punish you for attempting to take more than he offers, but your neediness is overwhelming. His breathing is faster, louder, in an effort to level himself. His hands fly to your head, like he would hold to your hips if he was fucking you from behind. He’s taking control now for both of your sake.

His fists tighten on your head, keeping you steady and compliant, his little rug-doll, like you’d go anywhere anyway. He’s all the way in now, your nose brushing his pubic hair, his scent driving you wild. He’s fucking himself into your tight throat harder and harder, the noises from your choking on his massive length and the drooling around your mouth might embarrassed you in another life, but not in this one, not now, not with him.

You take everything because he’s everything. Nothing else exists beyond him. He blinks; you see, he moves; you shift, he laughs; you bloom, he breathes; you live.

You don’t even think of your pleasure until he palms your cunt with one hand and your juices cover his fingers. He slows his pace, thrusting into your mouth almost sensually.

“Sucking daddy’s cock made you this wet, sweetheart?”

He starts to rub your swollen clit up and down, knowing how much more intense the sensation is for you this way. You’re already so close, you can feel your lower belly tense with a familiar warmth. You moan around his cock while you begin to grind your hips against his deftly fingers. You should know better.

He slaps your pussy, the wet sound of his palm on your soaked folds making you feral. “Mmmmm” you groan, arching your back unsuccessfully under that mountain of a man above you, rolling your eyes back, your hips never stoping their movement. You're so far gone, it should be embarrassing.

He slaps you again, harder this time and then a third time in quick succession. The impact with your clit sends waves of arousal all over your body, your cunt gushing your slick all over the sheets now.

Your body tenses, your hands squeeze his ass so hard, little moon-shaped indentations mark his skin and your legs are trembling. Tears start running from your eyes to your temples from the intensity of the act.

“You’re a wild little thing, aren't you?”, still slow-fucking your face, his middle and ring finger tapping quickly on your swollen bundle of nerves. “Playing coy and innocent until my cock’s in your mouth, only to come on my palm, hm?” And then he slaps your mound again.

“Mmmmm” you moan desperately, your face contorted in pleasure, tears pooling in your ears, your whole body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You feel him twitching in your mouth while you swallow around him. He’s hard and hot inside you and that makes you drool even more as you suck him off with everything you got. Your neck hurts, your jaw hurts, your lips are stretched to their limit, but you’re not stopping for a second.

You start to whimper and his hand leaves your hair to thumb your tears, bringing it to his mouth. You watch him trapping his digit between his plush lips and sucking on it, tasting your saltiness and everything feels so intimate, sobs start shaking your chest, making it almost impossible to breathe.

You try to push him away to breathe but Joel keeps fucking your mouth. “You know what to do if you want me to stop.”

You keep struggling to breathe but you are not going to tap his thigh.

Joel doesn’t stop, either. “You either tap, or you fuckin’ take it.”, he warns, but you shake your head in denial. “Then I guess you can take it, little girl.”, he concludes while he watches you still struggling and sobbing.

“Baby, you know, Daddy only hurts you because you look so pretty when you cry.” he says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut in an effort to calm yourself, more tears spilling out, nodding at the best of your ability.

“That’s how you gonna come for me”. You didn’t expect that.

You’re not sure you can do it and your body stiffens. It hurts good, what he's doing, leaving you panting and wanting, but you fear it's not enough to make you come. He can read that on you and he feels your hesitation.

He moves his thumb to your cheekbone, caressing it gently. Then he moves it lower, to the corner of your outstretched mouth, feeling himself sliding in and out of you. “Fuck, baby, you take me so good. You’re doin’ so good for me,” he’s panting and you know he’s holding himself back, “your mouth was made for daddy’s cock. Just let go baby, don't fight it, ok? I got you, you’re gonna be ok.”

He starts fucking your mouth roughly now, his heavy balls slapping on your wet chin, the sounds echoing in the room nearly pornographic. His hand resumes rubbing your clit in tight circles now, building you up, then tapping it a few times to bring you close and then slapping it once to bring you back from the edge, before he starts all over again.

Circling. Tapping. Slapping.

Circling. Tapping. Slapping.

Circling. Tapping. Slapping.

The bastard is fucking edging you.

He did exactly what you asked of him. He took control, left no room for thoughts, for decisions, for questioning. You just lay there and you take it.

“Daddy needs you to come, right fuckin’ now darlin’; be my good girl and give me what’s mine.” he commands and you obey, because there is no other way.

Your orgasm is explosive, your cunt spasming violently, your eyes rolling into your head, Joel’s pulling back his cock from your open mouth to let you breathe properly but you’re holding your breath in. “Theeere she is, there she fuckin' is..”he smirks in satisfaction, his fingers keep circling your overstimulated clit to prolong your high while he jerks himself fast above your lips.

You exhale loudly when you remember you need to breathe, the air is coming out of your lungs forcefully, hitting Joel’s tip and he comes instantly, thick ropes of milky cum painting your cheeks, nose and lips, running down to your jaw and neck. There’s so much of it, its warmth on your sweaty skin making your pussy keep clenching.

All because of that gorgeous man above you. Because it’s a part of him and he’s gifting it to you.

Joel brings his hand from between your legs to the side of your head, steadying himself, leaning above you, his head resting low between his shoulders, his breathing erratic and loud. His eyes are closed shut, his face wrecked, his muscles still convulsing from his intense orgasm.

Please, open them, let me look at you and he does open them, making you realize you said it out loud. His gaze is one of adoration and something else you don’t dare acknowledge. The edges of his mouth are curled up in a soft smirk.

His fingers caress your face, gathering his seed from your skin and feeding it to your starved mouth. You suck around his thick fingers, your tongue swiping everything clean. He places a soft kiss on your lips tasting himself on you, before he stands to fetch a warm washcloth from the bathroom to clean you up.

You close your eyes and just lay there, still, utterly content and satisfied, lighter than ever. In peace. You feel the mattress dip under his weight again and him gently cleaning your face and neck, then between your legs, discarding the cloth on the hardwood floor when he’s done and laying on top of you, peppering soft kisses all over your face.

“Good?” he whispers against your lips.

“Yes, thank you daddy”. You bring your hands on the sides of his head, kissing the space between his earlobe and jaw, then his jawline, his bottom lip, the edge of his mouth, the apple of his cheek as he smiles, the tip of his nose.

It’s how you know to say thank you, I care about you, too; I love you.

For now.

[hederasgarden]

Stand By Me - Part 3

Summary: When a local ranch hand’s attention evolves into something more sinister, Rhett Abbott becomes an unlikely source of comfort and protection for you. Pairing: Rhett Abbott x F!Reader Word Count: 4.8K Rating: Mature, future chapters will be explicit and 18+ only. Stalking, anxiety, and Rhett being protective. Future chapters will include some violence. No spoilers for Outer Range. A/N: Welp, here we are a year later. 😬 Sorry it has taken me so long to update. I cannot thank my beta N, @mayhem24-7forever and @whatblogisthis216 enough for their help and support putting this together. Thank you @callsignhurricane for the absolutely gorgeous header.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this story. Your interactions keep me writing and inspired.

Masterlist | Lewis Pullman Characters Masterlist

"I see you're in with the Abbotts now," your boss remarks, watching Rhett climb into his truck. "Got a phone call from Cecilia this morning about you not closing up by yourself anymore. That woman has a real way about her, all polite-like when she's handing you your ass." 

“Mr. Anderson,” you start, rushing to explain but he waves you off. 

“She was right, of course. I know you got that, er- fella who hangs around too much.”

“My stalker?” You question, your tone harsher than you intend. He looks down at you, surprised. There’s an apology on the tip of your tongue but you resist, meeting his brown eyes. Maybe it’s knowing you had Rhett and Cecilia on your side, or maybe some leftover frustration from the Sheriff. Either way, you don't back down from your statement. 

“I suppose he could be,” Mr. Anderson agrees. “Anyhow, I’ve got Johnny set to close from now on. You go on and tell that to Cecilia now. One dressing down from that woman is enough.”

“I’ll let her know.” 

He nods, patting your shoulder briefly before disappearing into the back office. You exhale and look back out to the empty street. It’s stupid to miss Rhett but a small part of you does. You’re safe in the store; there’s no need to have him here with you. He has a life of his own and a ranch to help run. 

“Was that Rhett Abbott?”

You turn to face the owner of the voice, finding your coworker Sandra watching you excitedly. She’s got that glint in her eye, the one that means she’s not going to let this go easily. Wabang didn’t have a town gossip, but if they did, everyone knows she’d happily take the job. In high school, she was in everyone’s business, spreading rumors and ferreting out information. She never looked twice at you back then, you were too boring and quiet. 

“It was. He just gave me a lift. Not a big deal,” you promise her.

“Uh, nope," she says, popping the p and stopping you with a hand on your arm. "We’re not going to breeze past the fact that you left your car here last night and now the manwhore of Wabang is dropping you off. Spill," she demands.

"We're not…," you start, an automatic denial falling from your lips before you can stop it. She gives you an incredulous look and you stammer out an answer. "It's not a big deal. We're, um, dating," you explain.

"Rhett Abbott doesn't 'date'," she tells you, eyes narrowed. "He has sex with whatever buckle bunny catches his eye.”

“He’s not like that,” you argue, defensive at the way she speaks about him. You know Rhett’s reputation, pretty much everyone does, but you saw a different side of him last night and this morning. You know there’s something more under that charming smile. He listened when no one else did and that means something to you. 

“Honey, please,” she says dismissively. “That boy is nothing but trouble and trash. You best stay away from him."

“Don’t talk about him like that,” you tell her, voice warbling with emotion. “He’s not like everyone says.”

Sandra’s perfectly plucked brows disappear into her hairline. “Alright, alright,” she concedes, hands held up. “Just be careful. He might not stick around after he gets what he wants from you.”

“He’s stuck around the last two months just fine,” you fire back, only realizing after the words are out that you and Rhett never talked about a timeline. 

“Really?” Sandra says, leaning in closer enough for you to catch the fruity scent of the gum she smacks noisily. “That certainty explains why he hasn’t been hanging around the Handsome Gambler lately. I just thought maybe he was getting serious about bull riding or Royal had him on a short leash after the last fight.” She leans back, looking contemplative. “Well, that was some exciting gossip for a Friday morning.”

“Please don’t spread this around,” you ask her, knowing full well she would. Although the idea of people talking about your personal life made your skin crawl, you knew if Rhett were here he’d say it was good. The more it spread, the more likely your stalker would learn of it and back off. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” she promises you, crossing her fingers and winking. 

Sandra spends the rest of your time together on her phone, chewing on the endless supply of gum she keeps next to the register. You’re normally not a self involved person but you’re fairly certain she’s texting about you and Rhett. During lunch, you send him a text of your own about your conversation with Sandra. He responds immediately with a thumbs up emoji which doesn’t help your anxiety. What if he was mad? What if he was with another girl at that time and you just screwed up this whole story?

You spend your shift distracted, overthinking what you told Sandra enough that you keep losing track of the inventory you’re working on. Eventually you give up and volunteer to work the till. An unexpectedly busy afternoon keeps your focus on the task at hand and you don’t even notice it’s 5 p.m. until you look up and find Rhett in line for your register, a shopping basket in hand. 

He steps up to the counter and smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you return, feeling unexpectedly shy. You stare at him long enough that he clears his throat and nudges the basket towards you.

“You gonna check me out?” he asks, his tone playful. 

Beside you, Sandra scoffs. When you spare her a glance, you find her watching Rhett. His attention, though, is focused on you. 

“What’s all this?” You question, taking out the deadbolt kit and some window locks.

“For your apartment. When I was there last night I saw they could use an update.”

“Rhett…” you trail off, embarrassed. 

He seems to sense your emotions and leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter. “I think this is the part where you ask me, cash or card,” he whispers. 

“Will that be cash or card?” You ask, thankful for how easily he dispels your discomfort.

After you’ve finished checking him out, you clock out and let him walk you to his truck with an arm around your shoulder.  Once you reach your apartment he pulls out a tool bag from the bed of the truck and says he’ll install the new deadbolt while you get ready. A part of you wants to protest or offer to pay him for the supplies, while another is too embarrassed to draw attention to what he’s doing for you, so instead you say nothing and disappear into your room.

“Pretty sure they’re doing line dancing tonight,” Rhett calls out in between the sounds of the power drill. “You got some boots you can wear?”

“Uh…I think so," you half yell back, staring at the contents of your closet. 

You have to get on your hands and knees and pull aside a few boxes to find a pair of brown boots. The last time you wore them was for high school graduation, back when your grandfather had been alive. You trace the delicate lines of embroidery around the calf, pale pink and periwinkle flowers connected by green vines. There hadn’t been a reason to wear them since, all you did was go to work and come home. 

Tonight seems as good as any and you stand to finish getting dressed. The sundress and jean jacket are a little dated but they’re comfortable and look nice enough. Once you’ve managed to fix your hair and makeup, you return to the living room to find Rhett replacing the old window locks.

The creak in the floor draws his attention to you briefly before his eyes return to the window. A second later they’re back on you. He blinks and stands, clearing his throat. 

“I think I’m ready," you announce. 

“You, ah, look real nice,” he tells you, nodding. “I like the flowers.” 

“Thanks. You look nice too,” you add, touching your neck self-consciously when he doesn’t immediately speak again but keeps watching you.

“Well…we should probably get going then.”

“Yeah,” you agree, watching Rhett gather up his tools. “Thanks again for installing that stuff.” 

Rhett nods. “I’ll finish up with the other windows tomorrow.”

The drive to the bar is quiet. Rhett’s fingers drum on the steering wheel as you wait at the stoplight. You cycle through potential conversation openers but discard them all. Nothing feels right, and you realize that the sour pit in your stomach only grows the closer you get to the Handsome Gambler. 

Would he be there tonight you wondered? Just the thought of seeing him is enough to make your breath come quickly and your hands tremble. You exhale and close your eyes, trying to get yourself together. Rhett is here. 

When the engine cuts out you look up, eyes drawn to the neon glow of the Handsome Gambler’s sign. Rhett’s quick to meet you at the curb, offering his arm. You curl your hand around his bicep and he draws you close. At this time of night, the bar is busy, humming with energy and conversation. Rhett navigates the crowd with ease, exchanging brief hellos with a few people, finally stopping at an empty booth. You slide in and he follows. 

“Want a beer?” He asks.

You’re not much of a drinker but you nod anyway. Rhett flags down a waitress and a few minutes later two cold beers are dropped off at your table. You fiddle with the label as Rhett takes a long swig and leans back, shoulders relaxing. When you sense him watching, you bring the bottle to your lips and take a drink. It’s cold and a little bitter on your tongue. Your distaste for it must show because Rhett cocks his head to the side with a faint smile on his lips.

“I can order you something else,” he offers. “Wine? Something fruity?”

“Maybe something fruity… honestly though this is okay. I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Rhett shakes his head and flags down the waitress again, ordering you a daiquiri. “It won’t go to waste,” he assures you, pulling the beer toward him.

You return his smile as he rests his arm along the back of the booth. His fingertips hover just above your shoulder, not quite touching your jacket. This close to him you can smell his cologne, faint and a little musky but nice. Everything about this is surprisingly nice, including the way his denim-clad leg presses against yours, warm and firm. 

“He’s not here,” Rhett announces and you look up at him sharply. He’s still scanning the bar as he sips from his beer. For one silly moment, you forgot why you were even here, something that seemed impossible earlier. 

“Should we go?” You ask Rhett.

You’d only come to make it clear to the man that you were with Rhett.

“What?” Rhett’s brow furrows as he glances at you. “Why? You wanna go?”

“No.” You shake your head just as the waitress arrives with your drink. “We came so he’d see…”

“There’s more than one way to make sure he knows,” Rhett tells you, pushing up the brim of his hat before leaning in close. You can feel his breath against your cheek. “Look to your right, past the pool tables. You see those men?” You nod, watching the rowdy group in the corner playing darts as you absently sip your drink. 

“They all work at the Dustin ranch, including the one in the baseball cap who keeps looking at us.” At that moment, the man in question stands up for his turn and looks back, meeting your eyes. If he is surprised to find you looking, he doesn’t show it. He holds your gaze for a second before glancing at Rhett who smirks and waves. His expression doesn’t change but when he turns back you catch a brief flash of something.

“He’ll make sure Jimmy gets the message that you’re with me.”

“Jimmy?”

“Your stalker," Rhett clarifies. "After I dropped you off this morning I paid a friend of mine a visit that’s friendly with the foreman of the Dustin ranch. That’s the man’s name. He hangs out with the guy in the baseball cap, Rick.” 

“Oh.” You stare at the table, trying to process the information Rhett gave you.

When he says your name softly you realize several minutes have passed in silence. “Sorry, I….” you trail off and look back at the man with the baseball cap. 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Rhett says. “This is a lot.”

You nod, lips pressed together because you don’t trust yourself to speak. 

“Line dancing looks fun,” he notes, taking a swig of beer. “Might be a nice distraction and you can put those fancy boots to good use.”

“They’re not fancy,” you defend. 

“Hmmm, don’t look like nothing I’ve seen at the feed store,” he teases. “Come on.” He stands and offers his hand. 

You let him pull you up and follow him to the dance floor as Vince Gill’s What The Cowgirls Do fades from the speakers and a soft, more subdued song  plays. The crowd thins and you realize the remaining dancers are pairing up. Rhett doesn’t seem deterred by the change in music, grasping your right hand and wrapping his left arm loosely around your body. His palm rests firmly on your shoulder blade, pulling your body close to his. After a moment of hesitation, you settle your left arm on his bicep.

“It’s been a while since I’ve danced like this,” you admit, watching how easily the other couples move around the dance floor. 

“Nothing to it. All you gotta do is follow, I’ll lead,” Rhett promises, surging forward and taking you with him. 

You stumble a little but he’s quick to adjust his pace for you, whispering words of encouragement. Maybe it's how Rhett guides you around the dance floor or some long buried muscle memory from high school but soon enough you’re moving in sync. Then he raises his arm to spin your body in a circle before quickly drawing you back into his arms. When he does it again a second time, a breathless laugh escapes you. 

“Atta girl,” Rhett says, drawing you closer. 

Your skin tingles and you feel warm all over when he speaks those two simple words. The world narrows to Rhett’s handsome face, his blue eyes dark pools in the dim light. Your chest constricts, only allowing you to pull in shallow breaths that leave you lightheaded. It’s only when someone else bumps into the two of you and the spells breaks that you realize a new, more upbeat song is playing. 

Rhett’s lashes flutter and he releases you, his gaze falling away a moment later. 

“Beer’s probably getting warm,” he says and you hum your agreement, letting him lead you back to your seat.

Before you can make it, two men you don’t recognize stop Rhett. 

“Shit, that you Abbott?” The shorter one questions, swaying on his feet. 

You watch Rhett for his reaction, only relaxing when he smiles. “Smitty.”

“Heard you’re riding tomorrow.”

“I am,” Rhett agrees.

“Damn,now we gotta go to see that,” he tells his friend before turning his attention to you. “Did you know your boyfriend's one of the best damn bull riders in these parts?" He asks. 

You’re not sure what to say so you just nod. 

“You guys gotta come get a drink with us,” Smitty says. 

“Thanks, but my girl and I were about to head out,” Rhett says, capturing your hand in his. “Y'all have a good night.”

My girl. 

Rhett uses that phrase so casually, like he’s done it 100 times before. For a moment, you let yourself imagine a world where it’s true, losing yourself in the fantasy long enough to miss the rest of their conversation. When Smitty and his friend stumble away, Rhett leads you back to the booth where  your daiquiri has all but melted. If Rhett’s beer is warm, he doesn’t show it, finishing it off in one gulp. 

“If you want to get a drink with your friends…,” you start hesitantly.

Rhett’s quick to cut you off with a shake of his head.  “Not with those two dipshits. They’re fun for sure but… trouble too.”

You turn to face him. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

He waves your comment away, grinning with one side of his mouth. “Maybe, but it aint suitable for girls with flowers on their boots.” 

The rest of the evening passes surprisingly easy, so much so that before you know it, it’s nearly midnight and you’ve all but forgotten about Jimmy and the man in the hat. Rhett pays your bill with cash and walks you to his car, keeping a hand on your lower back. 

Once you arrive at your apartment, Rhett turns off the truck and leans forward to look out the windshield.

“Want me to stay the night?” He asks, leaning back. 

You do, but you’re aware of just how much he’s done for you already; staying over last night and pretending with you at the bar. You should decline and let him go home to sleep in a real bed but behind him you can see the dark windows of your apartment and the words catch in your throat. 

“Never was an Eagle Scout,” he starts, pulling a black duffle bag from behind the seat, “but I came prepared.”

You stare at the bag, surprised, and when you look back at Rhett he gives you that half smile of his, brow arched. You find yourself nodding before you can think too hard about it.

“Alright,” Rhett says, opening his door, “come on.”

That night you sleep better than you have in weeks and when the morning comes, you quietly slip out of your bedroom.  Rhett is already up, a mug of coffee in hand. He looks lost in thought, a deep crease between his brows but his expression clears when he sees you. 

“Made coffee,” he says, raising his mug. “Hope that was alright.”

“Of course,” you’re quick to tell him. 

“I won't be able to pick you up after work,” Rhett says, following you into the kitchen and leaning back against the counter. “Gotta be at the rodeo early but my Ma said she’d be there.”

“Okay.” You yawn as you doctor your coffee to make it sweet enough to drink.

“Looks like I kept you out too late,” he observes, watching you over the rim of his mug. 

“No, it was…” you pause searching for the right word but come up short. “I appreciate it,” you finally settle on. 

Rhett nods, looking away. “It’s nothing.”

When he sets his empty mug in the sink, you head back to your room and get ready for work.  Once you’re dressed, you reach for the beat-up tennis shoes you always wear, stopping short when you see your boots from last night. You hesitate for only a second before slipping them on instead. 

Rhett drops you off with a kiss on your cheek and a wave to Sandra, who watches the two of you from the front window display. The day passes uneventfully, without any sign of Jimmy. A little after 6 pm the Abbotts come to collect you. Cecilia is warm and open, asking about work while Royal drives, glancing at you occasionally in the rearview mirror. You’ve only met Rhett’s father in passing and always found him to be an intimidating man. Tonight he’s mostly silent, only chiming in when you tell Cecilia about an issue that happened today with Donald Everrtt’s lumber order.

“That man’s got more cows than sense,” Royal grumbles and you laugh when Cecilia chastises him.

Leaning back and gazing out the window, you think about your own parents. They weren’t so different from Rhett’s and you’d forgotten how nice something as simple as this could feel. Thinking of them hurts like it always does and you swallow around the lump in your throat, distracting yourself by listening to Cecilia and Royal talk about Rhett and the bull he’s meant to ride tonight. 

When you arrive at the rodeo, it’s loud and chaotic. The announcer booms something about the bull riding beinging soon. It doesn’t escape your notice that Royal and Cecilia keep you between them as they guide you through the crowd of people to the metal bleachers where Rhett’s brother and his family are waiting. Their daughter, Amy, is quick to question you once you’re seated. 

“Are you Uncle Rhett’s girlfriend?” she asks, leaning around Cecilia to see you.

You stare at her, unsure how to answer with so many people around. Rhett had shared the plan with his parents but you weren’t sure who else knew the truth. Your silence makes Amy’s  little brows furrow, a look so reminiscent of her uncle that it almost makes you smile. 

Thankfully Cecilia interjects before you have to figure out what to say. “Yes, Amy.”

Before Amy can ask you any more questions, her mother suggests they get some popcorn. Once they disappear, Perry takes a swig from the flask in his boot, and when he sees his mother looking, he makes a face.

“Come on Ma,” he grumbles, but Cecilia pins him with a silent, angry look and he eventually puts the flask away, sighing heavily.

There are several riders before Rhett and you watch each of them get thrown from their bull with increasing anxiety. You search for him among the crowd of riders at the far end of the fence. When you spot him, you’re surprised to find he’s watching you. He grins, tipping his hat. It’s such a simple gesture, but it fills you with a fluttering warmth that lasts long after he looks away to acknowledge his parents. 

When it’s finally Rhett’s turn to ride, you rub your hands on your thighs anxiously. The buzzer goes off and you flinch as the gate is ripped open. The world narrows to Rhett, the bull, and the sound of your own breathing. The seconds tick past agonizingly slow until he’s thrown from the bull. 

Dust flies and the bull stomps. You stand up, searching until you find him stock still in the dirt. You make a small, terrified sound and Royal touches your shoulder drawing your gaze. 

“He’s okay. Just got the breath knocked from him,” he assures you. 

You look at Cecilia who seems just as concerned but then a second later the bull is gone and Rhett stands. His gaze is focused on the scoreboard but you watch him. His expression is serious, lips pressed into a thin line as his chest heaves. Then suddenly he smiles, open joy written across his features and the crowd cheers. When you look up his name is first on the board. 

Beside you, Royal yells and Perry sticks two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly. Cecilia shouts his name and Amy jumps with excitement. You expect Rhett to come straight to his parents but he makes a beeline for you, climbing up the bleachers and past people with ease. 

“Rhett,” you start, whatever you were going to say cut short by his lips on yours. The kiss is intense but brief. When he pulls away, he looks as surprised as you feel. You stare at one another before suddenly he’s pulled back by an older man who claps him on the shoulder. More people push forward to offer him congratulations. 

“Let him hear you one more time,” the announcer encourages. “Ladies and gentlemen, your hometown hero, Rhett Abbott!”

You touch your lips, mind working hard to process what just happened. Rhett looks back, eyes glued to yours as he’s pulled back into the ring.

“Come on sweetheart,” Cecilia urges, patting your arm. “Let’s wait for him at the other end. Less people.”

You can’t see her eyes under the brim of your hat but you suddenly realize she and about a hundred other people just witnessed what Rhett did. You have no idea what his parents must think. There’s another feeling under the embarrassment and awkwardness that you don’t investigate too closely. 

“Well that was something,” Royal says and you glance up at him sharply before you realize he’s talking about Rhett’s ride. 

Cecilia smiles. “He’s gonna ride next weekend in the finals for sure.”

“I knew he’d make it,” Royal says proudly and you smile at both of them, nodding your agreement. 

After a few minutes, Perry arrives alone. “It was getting late so I thought it best Amy went home,” he tells the three of you, hands on his hips. “She can celebrate with us tomorrow.”

“Hmmm and I suppose you’re gonna help your brother celebrate tonight?” Cecilia asks, judgment clear in her tone.

“Yeah. Handsome Gambler,” he confirms, clapping Rhett on the back as he arrives. “You’ll be drinking for free, that’s for sure.” 

“Did you consider that your brother might not want to go?” Cecilia asks, looking at you pointedly. 

“Oh, that’s alright. We can go,” you say, feeling even more awkward.

Perry grins and leans in. This close you can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Great, I’ll get us a booth.”

He disappears before Rhett even has a chance to speak. Cecilia sighs and Royal rubs her back. “Nothing wrong with having a little fun,” he reminds her.

“I know,” she concedes. “But be safe,” she adds, looking intently at Rhett.

“I will,” he promises her, nodding seriously.  

Cecilia offers you a tight hug, promising to stop by the store later in the week. Once she and Royal are gone, you’re alone with Rhett. He rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat. 

“I’m sorry.” He pauses, looking back at you. “For the kiss. I shoulda asked if you were okay with that. I was out of line.”

“It’s okay. It uh, was good. Lots of people saw. That’s the point right?”

He stares at you for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face. “Yeah, that’s the point," he agrees, finally before his gaze flicks away. “But, we don’t have to go to the Gambler tonight. Perry’s just… Perry,” he finishes with a long suffering sigh. 

You think about how excited he was before and what tonight means for him. He’d done so much for you lately, the least you could do was go with him to the bar. There was no way he’d drop you off and home and go alone. You had fun with him last night after all. Maybe tonight would be just as nice. 

“We can go,” you tell him but he frowns, clearly unconvinced. It’s late and you’re tired but it isn’t hard to manage a genuine smile for him. “Afterall, I brought my dancing boots,” you add, pulling up your jeans to reveal them. 

“Alright,” he agrees, his expression lightening. 

The bar is more crowded than last night and Rhett keeps you close. Everyone wants to talk to him, including Maria. You can’t help but feel jealous at the way she lays a hand on Rhett’s arm and leans in close to speak to him. She’s even more beautiful than she was in high school when half the town knew he’d been in love with her.

Watching them together and seeing the easy way he smiled at her, you wonder if he still is. That makes your chest ache, which is silly. You and Rhett weren’t actually together. Nothing, from the dance last night to his kiss earlier, was real. It was an act because you caught the wrong kind of attention. Suddenly, you want to be anywhere but here. You take a step away but Rhett’s quick to face you, his hand shooting out to grasp your elbow.

You lean in to be heard over the din of the bar. “I need to use the restroom but Perry said he can come with me,” you lie, looking over your shoulder at his brother. 

“I can come,” Rhett tells you, setting his beer down. 

You wave him off. “Catch up with your friends.”

When you realize Rhett doesn’t turn around immediately you’re forced to actually ask Perry. He agrees and finishes off his beer, following after you a little unsteady. You take your time in the bathroom, splashing water on your face and staring at your reflection. It’s quiet here but your mind is buzzing. You close your eyes and sigh. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, lost in thought but eventually a toilet flushes and you stand straight. You were being selfish, Rhett deserved to celebrate tonight without worrying over you. 

With a deep breath you head back into the bar, searching for Perry. When you left he was leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone. Now he’s nowhere to be found. You only make it a few steps before someone’s hand closes around your wrist and tugs you back. You spin around, half expecting to find Rhett but it’s not him. 

Green eyes meet yours. 

“Hi baby,” Jimmy says, smiling. 

[nicestgirlonline]

dumb dumb

Pairing: Bucky x Dumbass!Reader

Warnings: none! lots of fluff ahead!!! 

Summary: Everyone can see the huge crush Bucky has on you...everyone except you of course.

Word Count: 3.7k and counting because I truly am incapable of being brief

A/N: This is for week one’s writer activity for  @the-slumberparty  the I Spy Challenge! I included all three of the items they shouldn’t be too hard to spot! I hope you enjoy it! Unbetaed, forgive me! Feedback is always appreciated :)

Update 2/17: You guys asked and now there's a Part 2

Typically it was Team Cap that were the first people awake in the Avengers Compound. Steve, Sam and Bucky were still on a soldier's schedule, usually getting up at 5 to work out before getting breakfast. 

So it was a bit of a surprise when they entered the kitchen to see the coffee was already brewed and you were helping yourself to a bowl of cornflakes. You were a Stark Industries biochemical engineer and judging  from your lopsided ponytail and your rumpled clothes, you had ended up sleeping in the lab. Again. Steve checked his watch, it was barely past 6. 

“Good morning! Another late night?” Steve asked.

“Morning Cap! Yeah, the thing about stomach acid is it's so fascinating I lost track of my time while studying it.” You cover your mouth to hide a yawn.  

“I think maybe only you think that.” Sam said, making you giggle a bit. Bucky entered the kitchen slightly later than the other two. His hair was damp and he had a towel wrapped around his neck, freshly showered. Steve definitely noticed that Bucky had started to insist on showering before breakfast right after the first time they discovered Y/N in the kitchen. 

“Good morning Bucky!” You greeted, internally cringing at how loud you were. He was taken aback each time he saw her in the morning. The usually coordinated assassin bumped into the side of the breakfast bar with his hip and winced. 

“Morning.” he mumbled and gave a little wave before immediately heading to get some coffee, walking off the bump. Sam and Steve both glanced at each other. 

“You should kick Bucky’s ass, it’s his samples keeping you up at night,” Sam joked. You blushed and filled your mouth with more cornflakes. You’d specifically been studying well, all of Bucky? The effects of Dr. Erskine’s serum on his body mixed with the cryosleep and the other HYDRA experiments was a vast array of knowledge to tap into.

“It's not his fault I’m bad at time management. I really should stop doing this though. I'm sure my apartment misses me.” You say quickly as Bucky silently fixes himself breakfast. He pulls out the bagels and cream cheese with a bit more anger than usual. He sent Sam a glare but didn’t say anything. 

“Well if you’re here less, we’ll start missing you, won’t we Buck?” Steve asked. Both of them knew about Bucky’s soft spot for the scientist, too bad he didn’t seem like he was ever going to do anything about it. 

Bucky didn’t really answer, just sort of muttered something. You tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear trying to hide a blush.

“I'm sure Bucky won’t miss me. He’s gotten enough of me poking and prodding him.” You said hoping it came off as a light joke. While Bucky had been very willing to provide all of the samples you’d asked for, you secretly were starting to feel like you were no better than HYDRA in his eyes…

“And stealing my blood for science?” Bucky asked, his tone still grim. “‘S’not so bad when you do it.” He gave a small smile that he hid behind a sip of coffee. Steve remained quiet a moment, hoping either of you would make a move but both of you stayed blushing and looking in other directions. 

“Say, I was wondering to get your opinion on something. If there was a fella who was trying to get something nice for a lady friend, are flowers too old fashioned?”

“A lady friend? Steve, are you dating someone?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny. But humor a hundred year old guy for a second here. If someone were trying to catch the eye of a modern woman such as yourself, would he have to buy you flowers, chocolates, diamond necklace?” He asked. You thought about it for a moment tapping your chin. 

“Gosh, not diamonds for me! I can’t wear any jewelry in the lab. I think flowers are nice! Everyone likes getting flowers sometimes. Maybe I should get some flowers for the whole lab, with Valentine's Day coming up and all.”  

Bucky smiled to himself. You were just the sweetest person he’d ever met. Always thinking about others. Steve of course caught the face and Bucky quickly turned away, trying to go back to neutral. It was such a stupid little crush, nothing more. 

x

You felt like your back might snap in half, that lab cot was really not optimal. You’d ended up staying in the lab past midnight and at that point it was easier to just crash than bother driving home.  You’d had to redo nearly all of your samples from yesterday, after your acid experiment melted nearly all the pipettes in the lab. You were probably going to have to get some more cheek swabs from Bucky too. 

You bit your lip. It was nice to have him in the lab so much. He didn’t talk a lot but he was always awfully sweet when he did. He also didn’t seem to mind your science babble. It was safe to say you’d developed a bit of a crush over the past few months. Too bad there was absolutely no way he felt the same way about you. He was a gorgeous Avengers for chrissake, he wasn’t going to date a dorky scientist who was studying the acid in his stomach. 

Speaking of the devil, when you got up to stretch a bit you were taken back by a face full of flowers, you leaped back in surprise. 

Bucky, wearing his sweatsuit like he had just gotten back from a run, was carrying a huge bouquet of pink and purple flowers. His face as usual was unreadable. You placed your hand on your now racing heart. 

“Bucky! I didn’t hear you come in!” You said as you regained your footing. 

“Uh sorry about that. Kind of a habit. Assassin.” He said with a shrug. The two of you stood in silence with the beautiful flowers separating you. Both of you  taking in the other. 

Can’t believe he looks so handsome while I’m sitting here looking like an absolute wreck

Can’t believe she looks so cute in the mornings while I’m in here looking like a creep. 

“These are beautiful!” You gesture to the flowers snapping the two of you back to reality. He half smiled and took a deep breath, ready for the little speech he'd prepared to go along with the ridiculous bouquet. 

“Yeah uh, I was just thinking about what you and Steve were talking about yesterday, with Valentine’s Day and all—“ He began. 

“It’s so nice that you got these for the lab!” You cried out taking them from his hands. Yesterday you had mentioned getting flowers for the whole lab, that must be what Bucky was referencing. 

“I…did. I did get these for the lab.” He said the smile now disappearing and back to his usual grumpy/ neutral expression. Some people found it a bit off putting but you had grown accustomed to it. 

“The techs are gonna flip, an avenger bringing us flowers! This is gonna brighten up the break room.” You squealed happily. It broke your heart a little, secretly hoping they had been for you. The gesture was really appreciated. Maybe he really didn’t mind all of your little experiments so much!

“I’m glad you like them.” He said. He sounded genuine but he looked so sad. You quirked your eyebrows, hoping that you’d be able to cheer him up if he stayed.  “Yeah so I’m gonna go now.” 

He quickly turned his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh you can stay—” You called after him but he was basically out the door. 

 “I’ve got to go on a run.” he called back.

“Oh.” you said to yourself as the door shut behind him. You clearly had been wrong, no way did Bucky like you at all. 

X

“Hey there I got a huge bunch of flowers for the lab. Because I think the lab is beautiful. And the lab is smart and funny. I really like talking to the lab even though I have no idea what the fuck to even say half the time.” 

“Talking to yourself again?” Steve asked, finally catching up with Bucky who had taken off at a mad man’s pace. 

“Eavesdropping again punk?”

“Flowers didn’t go over too well? I take it?”

“Not talking about it.” Bucky said picking up speed. Steve easily matched his pace, refusing to let his friend get away. 

“Maybe you should just ask her out. You used to be pretty good at that. Being charming.” Steve suggested. Bucky picked up speed again and Steve followed, the two of them now pushing hard. Nearly too hard for conversation. 

“Will you drop it?” Bucky grunted. There was no way she liked him. Why would she anyway? She was a beautiful, brilliant scientist and he was the grumpy old meanie avenger. 

“Just trying to help.” Now Steve was pissed, he pushed harder trying to pass his best friend. 

“Stay out of it.”  The two super soldiers ran on, lapping poor Sam a shameful amount of times. 

Used to be charming. Used to be? Bucky scoffed. He’d show them. He was present day charming. 

X

You really needed to work on your time management, you checked your watch and it was already 3 o clock and you hadn’t even had lunch yet. You were out of lab snacks too, so you decided to break for a quick lunch. 

You assumed you’d be in the kitchen on your own but entered to see Bucky with a cup of instant noodles. He was mid slurp when you waved hello. You went straight to the pantry to grab the basics for a PBJ. You could hear lots of coughing as you turned. 

“You’re not choking right? Do you need the heimlich?” You asked only half jokingly. You’d certainly do whatever you could to help him.

You turned back and Bucky was a bit red in the face but breathing normally again. 

“No. S’fine. Went down the wrong pipe.” He grumbled waving his hand as you went back to your sandwich.  

“Everyone loves the flowers. By the way, really made our week.” You took a seat across from him. Bucky straightened up a big and cleared his throat for the final time. 

“Glad to hear it.” He smiled. You smiled back. 

There was a beat of silence. You looked down at your food, then back to Bucky only to discover he had done the same. You were looking into each other's eyes. 

“It was really so thoughtful.” You hoped you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt. 

“Well I was thinking of you when I saw them.” He said softly. Your heart soared. That was the sort of softness that you only heard from him in a few special moments. 

“Tony is having a screening of The Princess Bride. For Valentine's Day. As a treat to the company. Great movie, if you haven’t seen it.” You said very quickly. Not sure what was compelling you to tell him about it. It was one of your favorite movies and you were really excited to go to the screening until another scientist in your lab had asked you if you were bringing a date. It hadn’t occurred to you that the romance movie screening on Valentine's Day was going to be a mostly couples event. 

“I haven’t.” Bucky said. You were about to suggest he check it out when he continued “We should go. Together.” 

“Ok! Yeah! Yes we should go! Wow, that will be so much fun!” You could hardly believe it! Had your gambit worked? Subtly bringing up the movie with the hopes he’d come with you? 

“Uh cool, should I uh pick you up at the lab?” He seemed just as excited as you. You don’t think you’d ever seen him so smiley actually. 

“Yeah, I’ll have to bring my duffle bag so I have a change of clothes. I have this dress that looks like Buttercup’s — she’s a character in the movie. I should have more clothes here anyway. I hate my work clothes. And maybe a blanket too since the screening room is always so cold. We could bring snacks even though they’re usually provided. That might be overdoing it. ” You had started to ramble while Bucky rested his chin on his hand, contently listening. 

“You’re not planning on sleeping in the lab again are you?” He asked, concerned. 

“Well, I want to watch the movie and it's a bit silly to drive all the way home when I'm tired.” You said with a shrug. You really should stop sleeping at the lab so much, it seemed like you were starting to get a reputation. 

“Very true, you should not be driving while sleepy. But uh we could go to my place afterwards. It’s a much nicer commute. Probably a bit more comfortable than the lab.” He offered. 

“But Bucky, where would you sleep?” You asked, cocking your head to the side. The avengers apartments were nice but you were certain he didn’t have a guest bedroom. 

“I’ll take the floor. It’s actually not an issue.” 

“Bucky Barnes, I am not kicking you out of your own bed. No way. End of discussion.” You put your foot down. He let out a sigh looking up at the ceiling lights and then back to you. His whole demeanor changed 

“Well. I was trying to be a gentleman here but it is a pretty big bed. We probably could both fit. Since it seems like there are no other options. ”  He practically purred at you. You blinked, taken aback. You couldn’t remember a time where he had seemed more charming to you! But no, that couldn’t be right. Bucky Barnes was not actually offering to cuddle up with you on Valentine’s Day. This was you misreading the situation with him as usual. 

“Oh. You mean that as friends right?” You asked. Bucky looked pained and sucked his teeth for a moment. 

“Totally. As friends.”

X

“So let me get this straight. You are going to be going to see the romance movie The Princess Bride together. On Valentines day. As friends. Then you are going back to his apartment. Where you’ve planned on sharing his bed. As friends.”Nat asked.  You sat across from Nat on the long L shaped couch in the TV room. You were a little surprised with how well you had ended up getting along with all the Avengers since you got hired for the lab. Nat and Bucky especially were famously unfriendly to newbies and yet, you seemed to click with them faster than anyone. 

“Exactly. What's so hard to get about that?” You gave a shrug and sipped some more of your afternoon coffee.  She let out a groan and massaged her temples. 

“Are you dumb? Like has this whole brilliant scientist thing been like an Elizabeth Holmes scam? Geez Einstein, Bucky is head over heels for you and you spend all of your time thinking about smooching his stupid grumpy little face!” She cried and you winced. You only thought about smooching sometimes.

“His face isn’t stupid.” You muttered and Natasha rolled her eyes so hard you feared they may get stuck. “And he doesn’t like me like that.”

“Why would he ask you out to a movie? Then offer his place afterwards, if not because he’s totally into you!” 

“I asked him if he meant as friends then he said yes he meant as friends.” You cried back. She let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Honestly at this point, I think I may have to hang up my wing woman hat. Can’t get you a date, can’t get Steve a date, I’ve lost my touch.”  She groaned. 

“Doesn’t Steve have someone he’s seeing?” You asked. 

“Uh absolutely not. No way he could keep that from me. Unless you have some intel I don’t know about.”

“He was asking me all these questions a few weeks ago. About getting a girl flowers to show you’re interested in her.” You explained. Why would he bring that up if not for the girl he’s dating? She nodded along knowingly. 

“Quick question, was Bucky also there by chance?” She asked, her wry smirk returning to her face. 

“Yeah he was…how did you know that?”

“And was this before or after Bucky showed up with flowers for ‘the lab’ ?” She asked using finger quotes around the lab. The gears in your head usually reserved for science and math started to turn. “Please, I’m begging you. Use that big powerful brain that’s supposedly between your ears.” 

You trusted Nat, she was much better at reading people than you were. Could she be right? You hoped she was right. 

X

You had changed into your flowy blue dress, you had always thought it looked a bit like Princess Buttercup's wedding dress with its long sleeves and high cinched waist. You took your hair out of its usual ponytail and let it tumble down your shoulders. This was a date. You told yourself. This was a date, Bucky was taking you out on a date. 

It didn’t seem real. How could it be? You had crushes all the time but they never actually liked you back, that just wasn’t how life worked out. But Natasha could read people like no one you’d ever known before. Could she be wrong?

Bucky showed up at the lab door, lightly knocking on the door frame as he let himself in. He was wearing a black dress shirt with black dress pants. The black on black was his usual MO but god did he look so handsome in it. He had stayed his hair a bit too, you could see the gel he had combed in to keep it neat. 

“Hey are you ready for the mo-” you cut him off by pressing your lips to his. The two of you stayed frozen for a minute neither sure what to do. 

He pulled you away looking confused. Oh fuck I just sexually harrassed an avenger oh god I’m fired, I’m dead, Bucky is never going to speak to me again!

“What are you doing?” He whispered, his hands on your shoulders keeping you at a distance. 

“I’m so sorry! God I knew Nat was wrong, I’m sorry I’m sorry, I just thought that maybe…god I’m so dumb.” You started to blubber, humiliated. You wanted to melt into the floor. 

“Hey, hey slow down. Now I’m really mixed up here, you said we should go as friends and now you’re kissing me. Can you just tell me what’s going on?” He asked, his voice very measured, his face unreadable. 

You took a deep breath. 

“I like you. I like you a lot. And I always thought that…there’s no way you liked me back. I wished the flowers you brought to the lab were for me but of course they weren’t and I hoped we were going to the movie as a date but of course we aren’t. Nat said she thought you liked me back but I should have never listened to her. I’m sorry.” You covered your face and turned away. You couldn't believe you’d messed this up so bad. 

“You keep apologizing but I’m not exactly complaining here.”  He said his voice low. 

“Huh?”

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to let you know, but every time I tried  it didn’t seem like you were interested in me!” He cried out. You just blinked at him, dumbfounded. 

“Why would you be into me, you're like the savior of the galaxy and I’m a nerd who practically lives in her lab.”

“Why would you be into me, you're a beautiful brilliant scientist  and I'm just some grumpy dope that’s also a  pardoned war criminal?”

You couldn’t take it anymore, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him again. Bye god this was the second time you kissed Bucky today! Only this time when your lips met he eagerly returned the kiss. His soft lips moving feverishly against yours. His hands went to your hips and you tried not to let out a gasp as he pulled you flush against his body.  

“Wait, wait, are we going to miss the movie?” He asked you with such genuine sincerity you wanted to scream. How was he so cute?

“We can catch it another time.”

X

The two of you, barely able to keep yourself off each other, somehow managed to get in an elevator, go up all the way to Bucky's floor and get into his apartment. All while still remaining lip locked in a daze. 

He was kissing you silly, you almost felt drunk. With a bit of a flourish he tossed you on to the bed (which was quite big, easily room for the two of you like he had said). 

“Uh Bucky, what are these for?” You held up the leather cuffs that were chained across the back of the bed. He frowned, suddenly panicking. 

“I was going to move those, I’m sorry you had to see that. I just, I get nightmares sometimes and it um, it helps to chain myself to the bed so I don't um hurt myself. I’m on meds now and I never need to use them anymore.” He was rambling, quickly trying to sooth the situation. 

“Oh.”

“Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I know I’m a whole lot of baggage on top of baggage. I really am totally fine sleeping on the floor if that makes you feel safer or--”

“Don’t say that about yourself. You’re the smartest woman I know. ” He insisted. He sat back down on the bed. He took you in his arms. You pecked him lightly on his lips.

“I just…I thought maybe these were going to be for me.” You fluttered your eyelashes as

Bucky's eyes grew wide. He cleared his throat.

“They can be. They absolutely can be.”

[signedkoko]

There's not enough Angst here so let me fix that(I'm a sucker for Angst) can you please do Vox x Reader where Reader get exterminated infront of him and now we watch his everyday (after)life now without Reader? Like in past Reader sued to do this with him but now Reader can't do that anymore like those kind of stuff

Vox X Reader [Angst]

In which you were taken from him brutally, and he can't help but remind himself that you're missing. Reader is genderneutral.

He'd always seen himself as unkillable

Nothing in the world could stop him, his innovation, or the Vees takeover of hell

By extension, that included you, you would always be by his side, and you always had been

That was such a strong truth that even as he turned over to look at you first thing in the morning, he was still just as heartbroken realizing you weren't there

And you wouldn't be tomorrow morning or the next

Media was all about puttin on a face, so while he had taken a break for just about a few days to pull himself back together, it was all pre-rehearsed, scripted fakeness as he programmed a smile into his brain

Even as he walked to his chair before the big broadcast, he'd fix his own tie and look for the mug of coffee he had displaced

Trying to feign the way you'd always fix it for him before his show, place that mug right in his palms and signal for the cameras to get rolling

Independence had suddenly become so distasteful

Vox refused to disappear or stop the train he'd worked on building for so long; he told himself you'd want him to keep working, even though he knew you'd always tell him to take a break

" You have eternity; there's no reason to rush! "

All variations of that sentence were what you'd ease him with when he found himself walking a step too fast, pacing as he worked through every last concern of his

Constantly, he would overwork himself into a rebooted system, tech failing since he'd forgotten to update it, maintain it, and do all the things you'd remind him of

You could never forget his maintenance needs; you always wanted him to be healthy and presentable

Without you, he'd work himself till he broke apart

Worst of all was that now that you were gone, he had to put up with everyone alone

Vox was always irritated by Velvette's bitching and Valentino's whining; you'd listen to him rant in frustration for hours, making inside jokes about the other Vee's worst moments

It was all just bottling up inside of him, to the point where he felt he'd fallen back into his old routine

Nothing but a heartless machine, still trying to run off the high you gave him all those years

Author's Note - You fellas and ur angst,, I am the least angsty writer there is butttttt I hope it's still fire! Thank you for requesting

[imagine-silk]

Fallout 4 fellas react to a really short sole survivor trying on their clothes and having them be waaay to big XD

Thank you <3 love reading your posts :)

》For whatever reason I can never find anything comfortably too big for me that looks nice weirdly enough. Tragic.

【Codsworth】 "Mum/Sir, I don't think you should be wearing that."

Of course he had spare parts laying around. That included his outer plate. It's 106 lbs of a single sheet metal that makes up his body that is very easy to hide in considering how big he is and how small you are. There is absolutely no way you can walk with it on, you have to sit in it.

【Danse】 "Take that off. It's dirty."

He is a very meticulous person and keeps everything in check, so he knows the only way you got his jumpsuit is if it's dirty. He averts his eyes as you immediately panic and shuck it off.

♡If Romanced; He still looks away.

【Deacon】 "Looking good."

He has a lot of clothes and surprisingly he knows where all of them are. So when one of his costumes goes missing he knows you took it. You're the only one who could have took it. If you take his glasses he has a million other pairs. Nice try.

♡If Romanced; He'll wear an outfit to match. Can't have Bonnie without Clyde.

【Hancock】 "Well ain't you a sight."

He's not a tall man by any means so seeing you make his shirt into a dress is funny to him. He'll take off his coat and put it around you to see it drag and watch you trip over yourself.

♡If Romanced; He'll find any excuse to put you in his clothes.

【MacCready】 "Get your own."

He's not too happy about you touching his stuff. That being said, he doesn't do anything but complain. Which is saying something because he has ripped his jacket off of someone before.

If Romanced; Strangely he'll complain more, fishing for affection for his 'services'.

【Nick】 "You need a map to find your way outta there, doll/pal?"

He'll tease you, obviously. There he was reading the paper and you walk in with his coat wrapped around you. The lengths he goes not to laugh would make a hiker blush.

✧If Platonic; He'll pat you on the head and call you 'kid'. He thinks it's the cutest thing and let you borrow it from time to time.

【Preston】 "There's my coat."

He was looking for it all morning only to find you wearing his stuff on accident. It never occurred to him you might have taken it. He has no strong feelings about it. If you don't immediately give it back he won't ask for it, he'll just change into something else.

♡If Romanced; He'll drop his hat on you too. You give it back though because it slips down a lot.

【X6-88】 "Why are you wearing my clothes?"

The clothes he wears are restrictive and not very comfortable, even his surfacer clothes. But for you it's more than accommodating, too accommodating. He will ask for his clothes back though.

♡If Romanced; It awakens something in him. The fact you can bring the Commonwealth to it's knees and be so small it wild.

[aziraphales-library]

Ello ello ello! Are there any humorous fics you know that involve an exorcism? Preferably lighthearted ones =) perhaps a similar vibe to Shane and Ryan in this one video: https://youtu.be/RzPk6VHPeDY?feature=shared

I hope that made sense!! I don't know how else to describe what I'm looking for T0T

2/2: Hi hi! It's that ryan and shane anon, i think i found a better way to describe what I'm looking for? Just anything involving someone looking for paranormal happenings going on, doesn't have to be an exorcism-- but still something humorous and lighthearted If someone already requested something like this, sorry bout that

Hello. You'll be interested in this post about paranormal investigations of the bookshop, including some buzzfeed unsolved crossovers. Here are some more lighthearted paranormal fics...

Hey There, Demons by IneffableAlien (T)

Married paranormal investigators Azra and Crowley explore an abandoned asylum. It goes about as well as you might expect.

The Wrong Side of the Door by HolyCatsAndRabbits (M)

Crowley had been with this group of ghost-hunters for two years, Aziraphale for three. They’d never had a conversation that didn’t end in an argument. If they weren’t both essential (read: would work this as a side job on the weekends for low pay), Gabriel would have fired one or both of them a long time ago. So now, as Aziraphale conducted his interview, Crowley was sure to scowl at him when he looked up. Because Aziraphale was on camera and couldn’t scowl back. Aziraphale returned his focus to Deirdre with an irritated huff of breath that Crowley did not miss. “What happened that day you stayed home?” he asked her. Deirdre talked with her hands, shaping out her thoughts in a vague, fluttery way. “I started hearing things, like scraping noises. From upstairs.” She pointed, as if they’d need direction, maybe thinking they might not be able to imagine what had happened that day, not in this warm and well-lit room with the open window and the front door in sight.

paranormal activity by dykeula (G)

"Humans were to ghosts what ghosts were to humans: a delightful jest to pass the time if the radio didn’t offer any relief. Sort of like chatting to fellas from oversees. They talked funny, wore fancy hats and were to be enjoyed with caution, and in doses. Problem was when they wouldn't leave Crowley alone." --  Back in the midst of the 19th century, a certain gentleman by the name of Mr. Fell aquires the rights to a particular empty store in London that's been closed for a while - for good reason. But what challenge's a little haunting to an ethereal being, right? It's tickety boo. Crowley, on the other hand, very much objects to his newest roomie. So far his track record for scaring off potential buyers is holding at a steady 100%. But what challenge's a bookish nerd to a omnipresent malevolent spirit, right? It's tickety boo.

Ghostly Ever After by Tiny_Dragongirl (T)

They say it’s all sorted out after you are dead—but sometimes, just sometimes, things need a bit of sorting-out even after you are dead. Aziraphale Fell and Anthony J. Crowley, professional paranormal investigators, might be the perfect candidates for handling problems of the supernatural, after-life kind. Only if they would sort out their own lives while they are alive… A romantic comedy, where ghosts are gathering, tempers are flaring, and love is rising above all.

Pulling Heaven Down by Bluethenstaub, PepperPrints (M)

Anthony J. Crowley is the best paranormal investigator in London. From minor poltergeist problems to full blown exorcisms, he does it all, satisfaction guaranteed. There’s only one catch: it’s all a con. At least, that’s what Crowley thinks. A run in with a strange, ethereal competitor threatens to turn Crowley’s world upside down, and before he knows it he finds himself caught up in affairs that might be way, way above his paygrade.

YES. YES. YES. GOODBYE? by AppleSeeds (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley are independently dragged along to a paranormal investigation event in a haunted castle on Halloween. They're both extremely sceptical about the whole thing, but manage to keep themselves entertained. Self-indulgent Halloween nonsense, 10 chapters taking place between 8.45pm on 31st October and 3.15am on 1st November. Attraction will be instantaneous. Hands will be joined together for a séance. Fingers will brush against each other on the planchette of a Ouija board. A scrying mirror will be used for indiscreet ogling. Crowley will be dressed inappropriately and need warming up. You get the idea.

- Mod D

[mayisgoingnuts]

OKAY. SHARING THE AU I CAME UP WITH ALONG WITH A FEW EDITS MSDNNS

As much as they're still a bit guillible/clueless about some stuff like not realizing that the Happy Fella was possessed sooner, their chaos is 100% ON PURPOSE. ALWAYS.

Skid had the amazing luck to get the chaotic and quite sadistic antics from his dad and Pump simply grew up without learning that other people's feelings matters, so once they met it was over to everyone basically. They're not 100% identical tho, while Pump's priority is to have fun and do whatever he wants, Skid's priority is to make other people's lives as miserable as possible

I made a few concepts of their relationships,, check them under the cut 😎👍

Skid and Lila are still pretty much the same for two reasons: he loves his mom and he wants her to believe that he's nothing but an angel. When he's infront of her he's also sweeter and calmer than the original Skid, and on that part is pretty much an act since he's naturally energetic and DEFINITELY not a sweetheart. When it comes to Skid's dad he also misses him, but as soon as he finds out that he's alive, Skid will have a big hatred for him for being fooled.

Pump and Susie does NOT get along ever and atleast for now they genuinely don't like each other. He's always bringing trouble, disobeying, pestering her and even talking shit about their parents for not being there, while Susie neglected him for a long time since she always preferred to lock herself and make art rather than spend time with her brother. Now with Mr. Wonder, he's pretty much clueless about their rivalry since they pretend to get along to not leave him worried; both loves him very much.

With Kevin it's "two kids bullying an adult", Pump treats him like shit and Skid likes to get him even more stressed. Kevin also actually hates them for those same reasons and even insult them back (which never ends well for him), but never has the guts to let them get hurt.

At first they just decided to avoid the Hatz since they're stronger than them, but once they found out that Roy had trouble with anger Skid convinced Pump to find a way to counterattack. They made found out where he lives and began to snitch on him regards a bunch of things (including when he beats them up) and now Roy is basically forced to not do SHIT unless he wants to be grounded or something. Ross and Robert defends the two from not being hit, not because they like them but to prevent Roy from getting in trouble with Carmen.

I LIKE THIS. IMMA DEVELOP THIS.

@merwynsartblog @luzxii @paperbagirlratlover @crossover-enthusiast (because it has the sillies) @goopymothsoda @royphobia @bulldog-geckorahhhhh @lynniezdoodles

[cheynovak]

Family business: Part 1  

Billy Butcher & Sarah Butcher x Soldier boy 

Warnings:  Age difference, cursing, violence, smut, 16+, ... it's the boys... what not 

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

Words: 5900 

Sarah is Billy Butcher’s daughter from a previous relationship. He did not raise her, on the contrary, when he found out that her mother was pregnant, he fled to the army. Butcher felt too young to care for a child, afraid to follow in his father's footsteps. But Sarah's mother wanted to keep the child. In the first 5 years he sended her postcards on her birthday with a little bit of money in it. But when he never got a responce he stopped. Years later Billy’s and Sarah’s paths cross when they search for the weapon that killed Soldier boy only to find the supe himself, who seems to have an special interest in Sarah.

*Might not follows the original “the boys” timeline*

---- 

Sarah woke up in a shitty New York apartment, she looked outside the dirty window, it was a nice sunny day but all she could think of was how horrible she felt doing this job. The CIA needed some unknown people for some shitty job when they couldn’t keep get their hands dirty. And that was one thing she had no trouble with.  

She took a quick shower before throwing on some old rock band shirt with a grey skinny jeans and black doc martens. Before she got out the door, she took her old black leather jacket and keys. Once outside she took the metro to the CIA headquarters where she had to meet with Susan Raynor. Sarah walked around in the big city thinking how much she hated this place, she could wait to get back overseas. 

Sarah presented herself to Suzan, “Mrs Raynor? I’m Sarah, Sarah Turner, my boss sends me to... take care of an inconvenience for you.” she said shaking her hand. “Ah yes miss Turner. Take a seat. Where waiting for my other associate before I can inform you about your task.” She said with a disapproved look at her. “You might like the man, British too.” Sarah looked with smiled like she had a toothache. “Yeah well, all Brits get along ay.”  

“Sorry kept you waiting luv, traffic.” Sarah heard a familiar accent behind her. She looked up, looking at the man, she could have sworn she recognised him. “Who’s this?” He asked Suzan without looking at Sarah. “Butcher meet Turner, Turner, Butcher. Your new partner.” - “Since when do you give me partners and tasks Suzan?” - “Since we need you to go to Russia and find out what killed soldier boy, what killed him can kill Homelander, but I don’t trust you, so I arranged backup.” - “I don’t need a fucking babysitter, no offence luv.” He said to her swiftly. “Take it or leave it.” Suzan told him.  

Suzan Raynor explained all the resources Sarah had, and talked about their mission, the boys could be included, but only Sarah could call in for progress with her directly. Once dismissed Sarah and Billy stepped out the room. “So, Butcher...” Sarah asked “Billy Butcher?” He turned around. ”You know me sweetheart?” - Sarah’s heart dropped “By reputation” she felt sick to her stomach, but the fact that he didn’t recognise her last name made it easier on her.  

Sarah met the boys, MM, Frenchy and Hughie seemed nice fellas. But she couldn’t help to feel troubled, they planned the trip to Russia, she noticed both MM and Frenchie were trained, Hughie on the other hand seemed like a beat-up puppy. Butcher started to go over the plan one last time. “We enter here...” Sarah couldn't help but to roll her eyes at him. “I’m sorry luv is there anything you want to say.” - “Yes, that is a fuck bad idea. I bet ya that these doors will be guarded by at least a dozen soldiers, unless you can hocus-pocus your arse through them, we need a new route.” - “Well excuse me for my language darlin but, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think. I’ve been doing this since you were in bloody diapers.” Yeah, diapers you never had to touch you fuck. Sarah though. 

She kept her mouth closed and loaded in her duffel bag feeling pissed, she really wanted to put Butcher in his place, but she knew it would compromise the mission. She heard Frenchy talk to Hughie. “She gives off, Lara Croft vibes, no? Spicy lady.” he joked. “Yeah, well two English alfa’s, I hope it will work out.” the skinny kid answered. Sarah saw Butcher put away some green liquids put away. “What is that?” She asked him.  

“None of ya business sweety.” he answered. “None of my business...” she repeated fierce. “If I need to go out there in Russia risking my ass, I need to know what shit you're taking.” Walking over to Butchers bag taking out everything until she found the temp V. “What is this shit?” - “Oi, give that back you little cunt.” - “No fucking way asshole, tell me what is this shit you’re taking.” - “Give it back or I’ll take something from you.” - “You sound like a fucking child Butcher.”  

Butcher grabbed your bag throwing it all out on the floor, he saw a picture falling out. ”What’s this?” He said while picking it up. Sarah saw his face getting pale as he looked at your mother in the photo. It was an old picture, taken when you were 7 maybe 8 years old, on a vacation in France, Sarah sitting next to her mother on a bench at the sea. He looked back at you locking eyes still holding the picture in his hands. Sarah walked over snapping it out of his hands. “That is my dead mother you fuck. If you ever touch this again, I'll kill ya, understood.” Billy nodded slowly.  

He didn’t ask, she didn’t spoke. They both got back to preparing their bags. But Sarah could feel his eyes lingering on her. On the flight to Russia, they sat apart. Sarah chose the seat next to Frenchie and MM. Sarah deliberately chose to bring headphones, so she didn’t have to interact to much with the boys. “What happened?” Hughie asked Butcher referring to the incident back home. “I knew her mother, we used to date back in the days. I had no idea she passed away.”  

Once landed Billy planned to rest at the motel first before digging around the foreign lab.  

Butcher handed out the keys, “not you, not yet, we need to talk.” He said to Sarah. They walked to his room. “What?” she asked like a spoiled teenager who was about to get a preach. “Your mother, when... how did she die?” - “Oh no, don’t pretend like you care.” She snapped at him. Billy frowned “If you really cared about her, if you really cared about us, you would have never left.” She yelled at him. “So do us all a fucking favour and pretend you don’t know her, cause that is what I will do when this shit show is fucking over. Pretend I never met you.”  

Sarah walked out the door, Billy followed her. “Sarah... SARAH stop.” She stopped but didn’t face him. She could feel the tears in her eyes burn, not knowing why this hurt her so much, she never knew him. “Sarah, I wasn’t ready to be a father, for fuck sake I was 19 years old. Your mom insisted on keeping it.” - “IT?! Keeping IT?! She burst not saying anything anymore before taking another breath “I don’t need to know your sob story Butcher.” she turned around. “You didn’t want a child, I don’t want you in my life, let just focus on the job and get it done, ok.” Sarah took her key and went to bed.  

The next morning everyone gathered at the parking lot looking terrified. ”What happened?” Frenchie asked arriving last. “Raynor, got executed last night. Her brains blown up, Annie just texted me.” Hughie said. “That means someone may know were here.” Butcher added. “No time to waste then.” Sarah said walking to the rented car.  

--

Sarah woke up in the red lighted room at the lab. “What happened? WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!” she yelled at Hughie standing in front of her, covering her eyes. “I eh, pushed you aside during the attack, you bumped your head.” Billy kneeled in front of you. “Are you ok, luv?” - “Yeah yeah, I'm fine.” you said while lifting yourself up, grabbing for is arm as you felt a little dizzy. “Still not a reason to be naked though!” she pointed at Hugh, looking around. “What’s this?”  

Sarah opened an old container, smoke came out, Billy pulled her back, behind him, once they saw a man walking out. She looked in him up and down, turning to Hughie whispering. ”He has a reason to be naked.”  

“Soldier boy.” Butcher mumbled, making Sarah look back at the man. At first, she thought he was looking at Butcher but when the smoke cleared, she saw his green eyes were locked on her. Her breath and heart stopped. “No way, he’s alive?” she looked at Billy who looked shocked at her.  

After Soldier boy blasted his way out of there, you all hurried back to the states, trying to take care of Kimiko.  

--  

“Well, there is no reason for me to stay here.” Sarah announced. Billy looked shocked, “The fuck you mean. There is a fucking ancient supe out there and you are leaving? - “What do you want me to do? Buy a fucking flute and whistle until he comes to us like a dog?” - “He blew up midtown, we need to do something.” Hughie begged. “Guys even if I wanted, I have a fucking concussion, my shoulder is hurt and there is no fucking way I’m taking that shit you injected yourself with.” 

“Then wait here.” Billy said, “Heal and if you still decide on leaving, I’ll buy you a ticket.” Sarah though about it for a second, healing before the long travel wasn’t a bad idea. “Fine.”  

Not long after they agreed to that Billy texted her, “meet me at this address ASAP.”  

Sarah walked up to an old cheap motel. She knocked on the door, Hughie answered, letting her in. She immediately saw Soldier boy snoring a line of cocaine before he looked her up and down. She never felt nervous when a man checked her out, hell she even used her body every now and then to get what she needed or wanted, but the way he looked at her made her head spin and her heart race.  

Billy walked over to you, tilting your head back looking in your eyes. “How do you feel?” Sarah slapped his hand away. ”Stop fathering me.” Hughie and Ben exchanged a look. She nodded to Soldier Boy, “You found him.” - “Yeah, well Hughie and I need to take care of somethings, we need you to stay with him.” Billy smiled at her. “Really? Babysitting?” she answered. “Babysitting, taking care of the elders, whatever you want to call it.” He said pushing Hughie out the door. 

Sarah felt the awkward silence, “Well, coffee?” she asked walking to the small kitchen not waiting for his response. “You were there in Russia, weren’t you?” He asked following her. “Eh yeah” - “You got me out.” She turned to him leaning on the counter. “It was a team effort.” he nodded still looking in her eyes like he was searching for something.  

-- 

As time got by, Ben seemed to like Sarah better than the rest of the boys. And Sarah decided to stay for a while. There was this unspoken bond between her and Ben, both outsiders taking care of their past, in different ways but still. At this point Billy only thrusted Hughie to tell the truth about Sarah. But Ben noticed the similarities pretty early on.  

Ben started the conversation after seeing Sarah walking to the bathroom, Billy was sitting next to him watching tv. "You know, I wanted some rugrats of my own... couple of little boys." Billy looked at him, “With Countess. But not everything always goes the way we want right?” Billy didn’t answer. “Does she know?” - “Yeah.” - “You didn’t raise her?” - “No.” - And that’s why the tension is so bad between you two?” - “She thinks I left her mother because I didn't love her, I loved her I didn’t want to be a father, she wanted the child, what choice did I have.”  

“You could have grown a pair of balls and taken care of your child and woman.” He said bluntly taking a smoke, walking towards the window, he saw Sarah standing in the door, slightly smiling at him. He knew she heard him, even though it wasn’t his intention. “Billy, Frenchie just texted, he needs you at the lab.” He got up looked over at you, nodded before leaving with a sigh.  

“Thank you.” Sarah said walking closer to Ben. “For what?” He said smiling. “Putting him in his place.” - ”I just don’t think he sees you for what you are.” - “And that is?” Sarah asked still walking closer, her eyes met his. “A tall, beautiful young woman, gorgeous big dark eyes, who is stubborn, fierce, smart, a firecracker.”  

“And you can tell all that from what, a week knowing me?” She looked up at Ben. Even though she was 5ft11, he stood taller than her looking down in her eyes. “I’ve known that since I set a foot out of that container.” Ben’s hand moved to the back of her black hair and the back of her neck. He looked at her lips before slowly closing the space between them.  

His movement stopped abrupt when the door opened, he looked over her shoulder. Hughie walked in. “Good you’re here.” Sarah said still standing close to Ben. “I’m going training, I found a private room I could rent at the gym.” She left Ben standing there. Fucking cock blocker, he thought looking mad at Hughie. “Oh, besides I found ourselves a house instead of this motel room.” She said turning back in the door. “I’m tired of sleeping on a couch.”  

--  

Sarah, Ben, Frenchie and Kimiko moved in almost permanently, although Billy dropped by every day to check on Ben, but secretly he wanted to get to know Sarah. Frenchie seemed to be the only one to notice the tension between Ben and Sarah. He stood a little to close, was way more friendly with her than with the others. Accidently bumped into her in the kitchen. She would lay her hand on his shoulder when walking past him at the table, bending over to pick things of the floor, not caring he’d look at her cleavage or ass.  

Sarah was a very structured woman, even in the middle of this shit show she turned the basement into a small training room. She seemed to be the only one using it, not understanding how all of them stayed in shape without training. One day Hughie asked her to show her some tricks. “I’ve seen you fight in Russia, even without temp V you really know how to handle yourself.” She looked shocked. “Eh yeah, sure I’m heading down now.” Ben couldn’t help but to laugh, “I want to see this.” As he followed them.  

Even though Hughie did his best she and Ben could see martial arts aren’t his thing. “Come on kid, tired already?” Ben joked leaning on the railing of stairs looking over them. “Don’t listen to him.” Sarah spoke, “Not all of us are granted with a supe boost. Besides, the right technic will take down anyone.” Hughie smiled soft but knew he never would be cut out for that. “Is that so?” Ben huffed “Fine, do it.” - “What?” Sarah looked at the supe walking down. “Take me down, I’ll even make it interesting. If you can get me on my knees, I'll take you on a date.” Sarah laughed “Oh Ben, how did you know that was my dream.” Answering over dramatic sarcastic. “What if I can’t.” - “You get on your knees for me... in private.” He said moving his thumb over her lip.  

“Sarah don’t.” Hughie said afraid he would take advantage of her. “Agreed, just to wipe that smirk of your face.” she said taking a step closer. She had miss calculated him physically, all though she knew he was build firm, she had no idea that her hits and kicks would be brushed off so easily. Ben never hit her back, all he did was block and push her aside. Sarah was out of breath. “Giving up yet?” Ben teased not a drop of sweat on his face. “Never!” She yelled when kicking his chest. 

“Oi! What the fuck is going on.” Butcher yelled running down the wooden stairs with Frenchie. “Sarah and Ben are... training.” Hughie answered. “Ough.” Sarah let out a grunt falling on her knees when Ben tackled her. “Oh princess, sitting on your knees already? Thought that was the deal, after the fight.”  

Butcher looked at Hughie “Deal? What deal Hughie?” - “Sarah made a deal that if she doesn’t get Soldier Boy on his knees she had to... get... on eh, hers for him.” - “WHAT?! Hey fucking cunt!” Butcher yelled running down the stairs. “The fuck are you planning mate?” Ben looked over Sarah’s shoulder at him unbothered.  

Without hesitation Sarah got up and kicked Ben in his face now that he was distracted. Making him step backwards, losing his balance, falling on one knee. “Mon dieux, a little Jean Claude Vandamme in the house eh!” Frencie laughed hitting Hughie’s shoulder. Ben looked up at her, entirely surprised. Sarah stood there, towering over him, with a wide grin holding out her hand. Ben took her hand pulling him off his knee. “A deal is a deal.” Ben said standing to close to her. “Don’t worry, just the look on your face, that was all I needed.” Sarah said not backing down, almost chest against chest.  

“No, no, NO! Get back, you get away from her!” Butcher pulled on Sarah’s shoulder demanding her to step back looking at him. “Oh, don’t act like you fucking care.” She said walking away. Butcher looked at Ben “Stubborn, like her father.” he said patting Butcher's shoulder before following Sarah up the stairs. “Father?” Frenchie asked. Billy’s face said enough, “Sarah is mademoiselle Charcutier? No! That is not possible.” - “It is.” Was all Butcher replied.  

-- 

Later that night, Kimiko wanted to watch singing in the rain. To everyone’s surprise, Ben didn’t complain. All four watched the movie. Until Sarah heard her phone ring in the kitchen. She got up to see who the caller was. It was her boss back in the UK. He had been calling to see if she was still alive and or working the case. She didn’t noticed Ben got up until she felt the warmth of his body behind her.  

“How long?�� He asked placing his hands on her hips. She felt the heat rising in her body. “How long what?” She asked. “How long are you going to keep teasing me woman.” She felt his lips brush over her shoulder.  

Frenchie looked over at the kitchen seeing Ben covering Sarah’s body. But she didn’t seem to mind it as he watched her head fall back against his shoulder, her hand moving back, fingers tugging Soldier Boys hair. 

“Am I teasing you? I had no idea.” She flirted. “Tell me Ben, if you feel like I tease you too much, why didn’t you ever make move.” - “Your fucking friends are cock blockers.” he growls, while he softly bit the flesh in your neck with his teeth. His hands moved up to her breast, kneading them over her shirt. “I don’t know how long I can wait before I rip your clothes off and take you right in front of everyone.” Sarah turned around facing Ben. “Is that a promise?”  

Ben looked shocked at her comeback, but his surprise turned into lust really quick. Lifting her on the kitchen table, kissing her like a hungry man.  

Sarah looked over his shoulder, Kimiko and Frenchy were still focussed on the tv. Ben’s lips were on her neck again. She pushed him back, he looked confused. Sarah slipped past Ben walking back to the couch. She saw Frenchie looking up at her, she answered him with a wink before sitting down.  

Later that night she heard a soft knock, Sarah expected Ben, knowing him, he didn’t want to give up just yet. But to her surprise she saw Kimiko on the other end. “Hi.” She let her in.  

Kimiko heard what happened and wanted to know more about her family and Butcher. So, she told her everything, how she was raised by her single mom, that she lost her at 15 due to cancer. After wandering around for months a group of private contracters had found her and trained her. She owns them everything.  

The man who took her is was now the boss, Sarah even told her that she was ditching his calls because for some reason she wanted to get to know Butcher. God forbit she would ever say that to him. “Soldier boy?” she typed. ”What about him?” - “You like him?” -”Yeah, well we get along, I guess where friends of some sort.” - “ He looks at you like he wants to be more than friends.” - “Oh no, he is like that with ever woman.” Sarah answered feeling her cheeks blush. -” Not with Annie or me. Frenchie says so too! He saw you two in the kitchen...” - “I don’t know. He... does something to me, I feel like I can’t thrust myself around him.” she confessed.  

Kimiko enjoyed the girl talk she had with Sarah, and so did she. “Talk soon?” Sarah asked while letting Kimiko out the door, she smiled and nodded quick. Sarah looked at the clock 2am. Damn, time to hit the sack. She thought changing into her pyjama, well actually a tank top and panties.  

Sarah heard a knock “Forget something Kimi?”She asked opening the door.  

Ben looked down at her, “Hi.” was all he said. “Ben... What are you...” He didn’t let her finish. “ I heard you talk to...” he pointed his thumb behind at him, trying to remember her name. But when he looked down at her, he could see she wasn’t wearing much. Making him forget all he wanted to say. “Yes?” Sarah asked trying to bring him back, but instead he walked in. “Fuck this.” He crashed his lips on to hers, pulling her body to his with one hand under her shirt and the other covering her ass.  

Sarah felt like she had to fight this, but the more she felt his lips on her the more she felt addicted. Uncontuesly she moved her hands over his chest, over his shoulders, pulling him closer to her body. Ben found the back of her legs lifting her up, carrying her to her bed, laying her down undernead him. He looked at her for a second.”Fuck you’re beautiful, can’t believe that cavemen is your father.” - “Can we please not talk about him now?” She kissed and bit his neck. 

Ben’s hands moved under her shirt, lifting it over her head. Fingers teasing her nipples while his mouth was sucking and kissing the flesh of her breasts. She couldn’t help but to moan at his touch. Ben felt her hand moving to his head, pushing him down to her panties. He grinned “So bossy” while kissing her hip. “You like it.” she teased back.”I saw it in your eyes when I kicked your ass.” Ben didn’t answer with words, but he did with his tongue against her slit. “Fuck.... Ben!” Sarah moaned tugging at the sheets beside her.  

Ben heard her breath getting faster, her body arching for more friction. He place one hand over her hips while the other pushed his fingers inside her. "Fuck sweetheart, I wanted to taste you the minute I laid my eye on you.” He said between sucking at her clit and licking. Sarah felt the coil in her stomach grow. “Oh Ben... don’t stop!” She whimpered. After her high she looked at Ben while he wiped his mouth with the back of his hands.  

Sarah wrapped her legs around him, turning him on his back. Her mouth on his, her tongue touching his, tasting herself. Grinding on his coverd cock a few times before lifting herself taking her hand down between their bodies. Ben moaned in her mouth when her hand got down to push down his trainers a little to stroke him. Ben grabbed her hair in his hand when she moved herself down.  

Sarah tugged Ben’s pants further down, taking it all the way off together with his underwear. Placing herself on her knees between his legs. She hears him chuckle. “What?” she asked. “Looks like I have you on your knees afterall.” Sarah smacked his thigh but smiled at the same time, Ben could see the lust in her eyes when she kissed and stroke his thighs, hips, ... everywhere exept where he wanted her te most. “Stop teasing princess.” He groaned.  

“So needy” she teased sitting back up, Ben looked confused. “Really?” She climbed on top of him smiling. “Your big mouth will get you in trouble, handsome.” She grinded against him while she whispered in his ear. “Had you just kept it shut, I might have sucked you so hard, so long till you came in my mouth.” Ben gripped on her thighs she knew it would leave marks, but she didn’t mind. “Oh, so she likes control?” - “You have no idea.” She said, holding his cock steady for her to sink down on.  

Sarah’s head fall back, sitting straight on his lap, Ben saw her face when he filled her up. “Fuck.” was all he could moan. Her hands hold her steady on his chest while she rode him. His hands over her breasts to her neck before he sat up kissing her shoulders, neck, breasts...  

Ben pushed her over, her head towards the foot end of the bed. Wrapping her knees over his hips, while he took her wrist in his hands and pulled them over her head. Sarah felt his thrusts getting harder and faster. His cock pushing against that one spot inside her that made her scream his name. “Fuck... Ben! Harder... fuck me harder ... please.” - “Say it again.”  

 

“Fuck... Me... Harder.” she begged out of breath. Ben placed his hands over her throat not entirely kneading but holding her in place, while thrusting harder in her. “I’m going to ruin you for any other man you will ever fuck.” He whispered in her ear.” - “I don’t want anyone else.... fuck... Ben, I only want you.” She managed to say between breaths while she came on his cock, her orgasm never felt this good before. Not long after Ben came too. 

Fuck Sarah though staring at the ceiling after coming down from her high. “Maybe a little late, but please tell me you’re on birth control?” Ben said looking over at her. “Heh? Eh yeah, I am.” she answered not mentioning she forgot to take it a couple of nights in a row. “I’m going to the bathroom real quick.” She said jumping up putting on a pair of shorts and her top leaving Ben in her bed. 

Sarah ran to the kitchen, starting to throw out everything in her purse trying to find those damn pills, she got nervous. “Looking for something?” She heard Butcher getting in by the back door, putting the lights on. “You’re up late. Need a hand?” - “No, no, I got it.” She said relieved. Taking the pill with a glass of water. “What are you doing here?” She looked at the man. “I couldn't sleep found myself walking here.” He looked at the packaging “Good you take those.” Sarah huffed “Yeah, would not what to put unwanted children on this earth now would we.” She said walking past Butcher. “Sarah...” - “Goodnight.” She quickly said before she had to hear him apologise again.  

Ben was still in her bed. “That took long enough.” She crawled in the bed next to him, kissing his lips without saying a word. But he could see she was upset, she hugged him, his steady heartbeat made her fall asleep quickly. 

The next morning, she woke up to the sound of clashing pots and pans in the kitchen. When she wanted to move, she could feel Ben’s arm still wrapped around her, spooning. Sarah had moved during the night, but Ben still seemed to hold on to her.  

His heavy breathing came to an abrupt stop. “Goodmorning” she said smiling at him softy. “Hmm.” was all he said snuggling closer to the spot between her neck and shoulder. “God, you smell amazing.” he said still sounding sleepy. “We need to get up.” - “Do we?” he asked with a hint of mischief in his voice. Sarah could feel his hand move down, tugging her shorts aside. “I think we still have some unfinished business.”  

Sarah felt his dick pushing against her while his hand was making sure she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Without much though she started to copy his behaviour teasing and playing with him. When their breaths got heavier, he moved her shorts down lifting her leg up a little so he could take without moving too much. One hand on her hip while the other held her close to him, wrapped around her breast holding her body close to his. 

Ben took her hand and placed it in between her hips, holding his hand over hers. “You feel that?” he moaned “That is where I belong. Deep inside you.” Sarah kissed his lips in return. “Fuck Ben, promise me you’ll fuck me every night.” - “And every morning.” he said kissing the spot behind her ear. “I’m going to fuck you until you’re pregnant.” Shit that didn’t supposed to sound so hot. She though.  

After their morning “work out” they both entered the kitchen, seeing literary everyone sitting or standing there. They all stared at the two of them. Kimiko smiled at Sarah, already knowing what had happened. Since she saw Ben sneaking to her room after she left.  

“Mornin” she said in unison with Butcher. Ben couldn’t help but to laugh, he couldn’t believe still not everyone saw the resemblance.  

*A couple of weeks later* 

Today was the day they wanted to take down Homelander. Everyone was preparing but Sarah felt ill, walking to the bathroom she couldn’t help but to overhear a conversation between MM and Frenchie about some gas that could take down Ben. But she decided not to tell him, so he could focus on Homelander. Over these past few weeks they became closer. He shared how he felt about Homelander being his son. “If they just told me. I would have given my seat up.” He had told her somewhere between their passionate nights and open conversations afterwards.  

Things got heavy at the Vought tower. Ben tried to hurt Homelander by saying the few words his father ever said to him. ”Being a fucking disappointment.” He tried to turn the conversation to Butcher and Sarah. “So, this is Sarah. Well, sweetheart wish I could say you look like you mother.” - “Fuck you.” - “How are you feeling? Not to nauseous I hope?” He grinned. Sarah looked confused at him, but when he looked at her stomach and back up at her, she realised she was late.  

“Congratulations Butcher. Or should I say grandad.” Sarah felt Butchers eyes on her, but all she could do was stare at Homelander, unbelievable she had to find out like this. When Meave placed her hand on her shoulder, she snapped out of the shock, looking between Butcher and Ben. Butcher followed her eyes to Ben. Ben already attacked Homelander, but Ryan defended his father.  

When Ben tried to get Ryan and Homelander out of his way Butcher blasted him a crossed the room. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ben said getting up. 

 “Not the kid.”  

“Oh, I thought you said blood didn’t matter. Thought that was the whole fucking point” 

“He’s my wife’s son.” Ben looked shocked, seeing Sarah’s eyes grow big. “What!?”  

“You leave the mother of your child, YOUR CHILD but you will defend this kid? WHY?” Sarah yelled hitting Butcher in the chest. Homelander heard everything that she said before Maeve hit him. Ben stopped you “Go find the others. I’ll take care of this.” - “I can help.” - “No, I need you to be save.” He said while he kissed the temple of her head. “Go, I got this.” Butcher looked at them realising what was going on.  

Sarah ran through the entire building finding Hughie at the control room. She looked at the monitor how everyone attacked Ben. “How, wait why is he the villain in all this?” Sarah saw how Annie reloaded, she ran as fast as she could back to them, she saw how MM held the gas over Ben’s mouth. Ben’s chest was glowing. “I’m not... going back in that... fucking box!”  

“MM stop! STOP he will kill everyone!” She felt Maeve running past her. Ben looked at her when she pushed him through the window. Sarah ran after them. “NO!” She fell to her knees, covering her eyes when Ben’s radiation exploded. She looked over her shoulder, everyone was shocked. Butcher laying there on the floor covered in blood.  

*After the fight* 

Sarah and Butcher were brought to the same hospital. The doctor confirmed her pregnancy. Butcher got a warning never use temp V again or it would get him killed. The drive home was quiet. Once home he spoke to her. 

“Sarah, can we talk?” 

“It’s late Butcher, I really want to go to bed.” 

“It’s important.” 

“Fine.” She sighs, taking a seat at the kitchen table copying him.  

“I really don’t know where to start but, I never wanted to leave you, luv.” He looked at her with sincere eyes. “I sent you postcards for your birthday, and Christmas and wrote letters, hoping your mother would tell me about you.” Billy saw the tears forming in her eyes. “I didn’t want to be the monster my father was. Didn’t mean I didn’t want to know you...” He paused a second “I want to get to know you and be there for your baby.”  

Sarah got up with tears in her eyes “Well thank you for sharing that. Goodnight Butcher.” 

She got to her room, falling on to her bed, tears started to fall. After some time she heard her phone buzz. Number unknown. 

She picked up “Hello?” 

“Sarah? It’s me.”  

“Homelander” she recognised his voice. 

“We need to talk...”  

-----

Part 2 soon : Homelander contacted Sarah, trying to form a front against Butcher, promising her, her child will be save. "Family comes first" He said. 

-----

I hope you guys like it! I have a idea for part 2 BUT, Love to hear what you think should happen!

Definitely check out my masterlist!

[ladybirdswritings]

Silken Webs & Pirouettes- Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: You decide to take all your problems out on the dance floor. Ballerina!Reader & CEO!Miguel. Alternate Universe with most of the characters included as seen in "Across the Spiderverse." Many cameos ahead. Miguel is a successful business owner but personality is canon. This is a steamy reader insert, Miguel x You! Enjoy and pls leave me lots of love and comments as it keeps me motivated <333

next chapter

eight

“Ladies leave yo’ man at home, the club is full of ballers and they pockets full grown— and all you fellas leave yo’ girl with her friends— cause it’s eleven thirty and the club is jumpin’ jumpin’”

Your hips sway in rhythm with the song, body glistening with a soft sheen, evidence of the time you’ve spent on the dance floor. The fluorescent lights feel like they’re only on you. Men and women have either danced or tried to dance with you all night. You’ve given your number to at least eight, so far. One of them a blonde with blue eyes, older but handsome.

So…. how did you get here?

Well…

Your bed was comfortable enough for the few days you were glued to it, teary eyes and puffy face as you gazed at the phone on your pillowcase.

To call home or not to call home… that was the question.

It seemed like each time you reached for it, the constriction within the confines of your heart stopped you from lifting it off of the satin.

So you turned, gazing up at the sky behind your popcorn ceiling. Thinking for hours and hours. Could there be a way you could stay? Any other way besides going back to that dreadful office with that fanged serpent inside. That beast. Wolf. Asshole.

Nothing came to you. Maybe you’d be lucky enough at the week’s end when your check finally arrived. Lucky enough to buy more time and search even farther for more open work opportunities. Yet luck is gentle sometimes, it hides away from the people that need it.

So you tossed and you turned for hours, feeling suffocated by the matting and lack of ribbons in your hair. Until you decided to just rip the bandaid off and give in. Or so you planned to. The bright light made you squint and press anything but the phone button, or maybe it was your subconscious. What you did press was a recommended video.

A woman, a gorgeous woman with jet black locks and intimidating eyes struck you silent as she simply said,

“Get up. No no no, I don’t care how you’re feeling right now, I don’t care that you lost them or you’re depressed or he hurt you. It. Doesn’t. Matter. Get up right now, go get pretty and go show the world how pretty you are. I promise you it will fix things.”

That’s all you saw before you were up on your feet, taking an everything shower for longer than you ever have. Tending to your wild curls and plump skin. You ate, too. Stale cereal as it was all you had but— you still ate.

Then you thought. You thought about what always makes you feel good again. Alive.

Dancing.

Now you could have risked your head and paid Katerina a visit, of course. Yet you played things smart. You took the next best thing. Ballet isn’t the only rhythm you know. You did your makeup and fit into your shiniest dress. Like a disco ball, glistening in silver. Then? You searched for the nearest nightclub nearby. One where you could just dance your problems away.

Now you’re here.

“Hey baby, I’m likin’ the way you move those hips tonight.”

Ew, he smells of strong liquor.

You only smile kindly at the stranger who’s missing a front tooth and twirl, turning your back on him and continuing to sway your hips. He takes it as an opportunity to place his hand on one— and you stumble forward, pushing it away.

Too many men have felt entitled to dancing with you tonight, and he’s just another. No one asks, anymore.

“No…” you sigh through a nervous giggle.

He sucks his tee— or tooth? “Bitch.” Is all he follows with.

You frown at that, parting your lips to utter another word but— you don’t get the chance.

“Hey, leave my friend alone!” That sing-song, familiar voice.

You turn on your heel where Cindy Moon stands tall, brows furrowed as she regards the drunk asshole who is acting like he owns rights to your swaying body.

“Cindy?” You sound shocked and god— you are. What a coincidence.

Soon as the vile man leaves, she grins wide at you and pulls you into the warmth of a tight hug. It’s the first one she’s ever given you. She hugs you so hard it’s as if she���s afraid you’ll slip into the crowd of dancers if she lets go. Christ, it’s only been a week.

As kind as this is, you’re baffled.

The music is pounding in your ears, so loud you’re borderline screaming, burning at your lungs so to speak to her.

“Wait, why are you here!?”

She tilts her ear toward you— taking a moment to analyze your voice before realization strikes her.

“Company gathering!”

What? Here?

You freeze.

She must see the terror in your eyes because she immediately raises two comforting palms and shakes her head.

“Nonono— don’t worry! He never comes to these! I mean- Jess always invites him but he hasn’t showed so, doubt he will today!”

The tension in your chest eases at once, your body surrendering to the vibration of the sound. You’re grateful to god now more than ever that he hates any living, breathing corner of the world with joy and fun. You can’t imagine him in a place like this.

Wait…

“Who is Jess!?”

Cindy starts to sway her hips as the prior song bleeds perfectly into the neck, you follow suite— hands raking back your wild curls.

“C-O-O! But don’t worry, she’s super cool! This was her idea! Hey— Miguel never told us why you quit anyways!?”

She’s awfully sweet and strikingly beautiful. You see the men looking at her from the corner of your gaze, mesmerized by the young beauty with the slender frame. Yet, sweet as she is— this was your night away from all of it. He is the last thing on your mind.

Your mind wanders, searching for the right answer to put a pin in this conversation. You find one soon enough.

“Morale.” You practically snort. It’s understood immediately.

She nods once, eyes squinting as she stands on her tip toes and searches over the lively crowd. As if there’s a lightbulb floating at the top of her head.

“Hey— let’s go grab a drink!”

She’s a genius, she must know the subject makes you squirm. You grab her hand, letting her lead you off to the bar where an awfully pregnant woman with gorgeous, coiled locks sits— sipping on what you hope is a virgin lemonade.

“Two shots!!” Cindy orders, leaning over the bar and getting chatty with the tender as he prepares them.

Alcohol, yes. Just what you need. You sigh in relief, taking a seat next to the Aphrodite sipping on her drink. Her curls are dark, and her skin is gorgeous and glassy, and she’s— staring at you.

Not for a single moment, no. She’s analyzing you. Eyes locked on the side of your face.

You offer her a quick glance, squirming in your seat as she squints.

Is there something on your face?

She gasps, it makes you jump.

“No shit… you must be Ribbons.”

Ribbons?

You turn to her, brows furrowed and eyes soft as they search for an understanding to what she means. She sticks her hand out, over her swelled belly and like a zombie- you shake it.

“Ribbons, it’s what they started calling you around the office. I’m Jess, from where you used to work.”

Jess.

She must see the realization settle in your eyes because she giggles. It’s a warm sound.

You can see why people like her, why they regard her highly. She’s gorgeous, and she smells of a garden with freshly bloomed jasmine blanketing it. And her smile, it’s welcoming.

You offer her your name with an embarrassed shake of your head, partnered with a soft laugh at your oblivious nature.

“It’s alright— you didn’t have the pleasure of meeting me before saving yourself from mister hates-everyone-and-everything.”

Oh, she’s funny. Lively. You like her. You only wish it was her instead that you worked under, maybe things would’ve been different. You’d bet your pretty soul that Cindy and Mary Jane must have thought the same thing, at least once.

Cindy returns to earth soon enough, no longer drooling over the blonde bartender with a boyish grin. She hands you a shot, keeps one for herself, and hands Jess one too. Your brows lift, concern swimming in your bright eyes.

“Don’t worry, it’s virgin. Just lemon juice and seltzer— didn’t want you to feel left out!”

The kind thing, you grin at that and so does Jessica. Your glasses raise in repetition of Cindy’s own.

“To you, Ribbons. For having the guts to do what none of us ever could and getting the hell out!” She’s joking, you think. But a more analytical part of you knows well that deep down, she is not.

Christ, he’s that bad.

“Amen to that, sister.” Jess adds, and you can only laugh at the irony as you clink your glasses and shoot the horrible, burning thing back. You immediately wince as the substance itches at the base of your throat, making your eyes swell with water whilst you cough.

“Ugh, is that tequila!?”

Cindy only nods before dropping the glasses down and grabbing your hand again. She barely flinched.

“Let’s go dance!”

You don’t get the opportunity to recover and say goodbye to the pregnant Aphrodite before you’re back out on the dance floor, swaying those hips to the beat. Except now, it’s with Cindy by your side. The music is good, the drinks being brought to you by mesmerized men are good, god- the night is good. Time feels slow as it passes. That lady was on to something. You showed the world your pretty face and you got rewarded for it.

Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe the music but you finally feel it again. Alive. The buzz makes you feel loose, like with each sway of your hips— you’re throwing more of your problems into the burning pile and watching them melt away into nothing more than ash.

Meaningless ash. Where they can’t hurt you.

Cindy dances with a man beside you, but you dance alone. This moment, it feels too good to share with anyone else.

You don’t pay much mind to how long you’re there for, nor what’s happening around you. You don’t need to. You just need you right now, you and the music.

“I know right, she’s got the whole place looking!”

You hear above the bass; you don’t bother to listen more to Cindy’s voice or rather anything else except for the song. You’re lost in this safe little bubble, no one’s crowding you.

Wait— no one’s crowding you.

You open your eyes to see eyes staring back. Multiple, mesmerized by the way you’re moving those hips. Tipsy as you are— your face still flushes as you gaze back at them.

Your hips slow and then halt completely when the bony shoulder of a strawberry blonde bumps into your back.

“Hey, watch where you’re dancin— yeah?” A southern accent demands.

You frown at her, only seeing the back of her head as she storms past you. Christ, some night she’s having. She takes your place in the middle of the circle you created and attempts to move her hips. She looks— stiff. Like she’s trying to force the movement that should come fluidly in her hips.

Maybe you’re just drunk and critical as a former dancer. That must be it. You’ll leave her be, the room is too dizzy to care.

With a sigh, you bury yourself back into the crowd who have all turned their attention away from the circle. Whew, you’re feeling spun. Where Cindy, anyways?

Maybe it’s time for a water…

A record scratches, smirking mouth pressed up against the microphone as the DJ pulls it against his face.

“Alright alright— you guys havin’ a nice time tonight?” The crowd cheers, loud and rowdy as they look up at the record booth and lone, center stage. The DJ, he gets excited by the energy. As if he’s feeding from it.

“Alriiiiight, that’s what I like to hear. Now listen, rumor has it that right here, right now in this very moment— there’s a dancing queen among us. Oh yeah, I’m talkin’ full blown ABBA. I’ve seen her, I know you’ve seen her— light man...” He snaps his fingers, the singular luminescent glow from the ceiling lands upon him. He finishes, “Let’s find her in this crowd, shall we? Where is she?”

Your eyes scan over the crowd, curious to see just who they’re talking about.

God— she must be good for a personal shoutout in a place like this. You used all of the grocery money to get in here, it’s not like you’ve had much of an appetite, anyways…

Maybe it is the strawberry blonde with an attitude… no, no that would be absurd.

You squint as the light passes you quickly— but it soon snaps right back.

Your delicate palm softly lifts to shield it from your blinded eyes.

“There she is!” He announces, as if he’s found the first lick of gold in a deserted land of sand.

The crowd cheers, whistling and whooping as their hands pound together. You turn your head, looking each way for the dancing queen they speak of before you realize.

Oh…

It’s you.

You’re so drunk you can only giggle, covering your face with your palms as the DJ shakes his head,

“Oh no sweetheart, can’t get all shy now that you know everybody’s watching. We all saw the way you were moving those hips— we all saw it. Let me ask you muñequita, because I have a feeling. Do you know how to dance like a boricua? I saw the way you were moving, there is no chance in hell you’re an all white woman.”

He laughs at his own joke, and the crowd does too.

He’s right. Your father was a strong Puerto Rican man with intimidating eyes— he never smiled, nor did he come around often. But when he did come around? He taught you to dance. He loved to dance. You do too.

You snap yourself away from your thoughts, they’re waiting… they’re waiting and it feels so odd yet so right to have all those eyes on you.

The dancing queen…

Maybe this would’ve been your life had you not— well, tonight’s not the night to think about it. You’re far too buzzed and far too front and center to chicken out now.

You spread your fingers, eyes peeking out behind your palms. Maybe you shouldn’t but god— dancing just feels so good tonight. You nod, and the crowd cheers again.

“See, knew it. Knew it. I’m never wrong, I’m never wrong. So, chiquita bonita, how about you get up here and we give them a show— eh? What do you say?”

A show…

You can’t even deny or overthink it before the crowd starts chanting “do it, do it, do it,” in unison. Someone with cold hands pushes you forward and before you let better judgment stop you from swaying your hips center stage— you’re already up there. The lights follow you; they blind you.

“There we go! Alright, my beloved gringos and gringas can sit this one out— we’re gonna dance a little merengueeee.” He emphasizes the word in a way that makes all the girls swoon.

What are you doing? What are you doing? You don’t know. Daddy taught you merengue. You love merengue, but all these people…

Your mind flashes back to the week straight that you were wrapped like a mummy in your sheets. The tears, the loneliness, the dread. And now— here you are. They’re all looking at you like you’re a star.

…

Oh, fuck it.

The DJ spins a record again and soon enough a symphony of instruments and strings begin to flow throughout the speakers. Everyone cheers as he adjusts the needle and pulls his headphones off from his head.

Thank god, you’d just about melt if you had to dance this alone. He hurries over to you. He has kind, brown eyes and a mustache just above his contagious smile. His belly is soft, it protrudes just a bit.

“Peter.” He greets where only you can hear him. You peer up at him shyly, feeling the heat of the moment suffocate you. You haven’t had this many eyes on you since you were with Katerina. The very distant, sober part of you is tugging your hand. Begging you to get off stage.

Peter furrows his brows,

“Hey— don’t look at them. Look at me.”

He’s awfully kind, and he’s right. If you play pretend, this moment could feel euphoric. You nod, forgetting all your worries as the long intro finally comes to an end.

“Bajo una noche estrellada, de luna llena…”

See, the thing about dancers is that no matter how loud the mind screams, the body won’t stop moving. Yours is no different.

His palms are warm as they press against your own. You clasp your fingers against his and keep his warm brown eyes centered as the only thing in sight.

The dancer you are, your hips start to sway.

“Ahi está.” He praises, one hand falling to rest against your hip, following each effortless motion and figure eight they make in unison with the beat. Something about him, it’s safe. It’s gentle. It’s— a really good merengue dancer.

Christ…

You giggle as he moves his hips, leading your mesmerizing motions. He’s putting you on display, twirling your sparkling dress under the spot lights for the whistling crowd to see. He spins you once, twice, thrice, then he stops you— your back to him.

“You okay with this?” He whispers in your ear, you nod— grateful he asked for a yes. The first man tonight who has, unfortunately…

Your hips move back against him, his leg— at least that’s what you think it is. You’re too drunk to know any better.

You both move in unison, and although he’s the only thing that exists in your mind right now aside from the music— you can feel the crowd. In your bones and chest, vibrating louder than the sound that leads you and the hands that guide you. Feel their eyes and excitement as you do as he said and give them a show.

“You’re bringing me lots of business tonight, dancing queen.”

Your cheeks are pink from the buzz, and you laugh as he twirls you again— back into the first position. You both sway your hips, the trumpet of the song a euphoric sound. He reaches a hand out, pushing it in an upward motion to signal the crowd to get louder.

God- they do.

They do as you twirl again, as you move your body for them to see.

A dazzling starlet.

You’re lost, so lost in the moment that you feel like finally, you’ve reached it. That peak, just at the top of the mountain where no one and nothing else exists. Nothing plagues you, no. Just this moment.

Your curls are wild and free, no longer tamed by your straightener and ribbons, they dance on their own, too.

You could stay here forever.

Peter steps back, holding your intertwined hands up in the air— only moving his hips softly as he puts you front and center. In this moment, you no longer feel like a ballerina in a box. No, you’re the ballerina who leaped outside of that stupid wooden box. That stupid office. Stupid dance room.

Stupid boss.

Stupid Katerina.

Stupid Miguel.

Hey… that guys kinda looks like—

Peter twirls you swiftly back into his arms and continues moving. You’re still facing front, the rhythm controlling your body like it’s got strings sewn into your limbs.

But that guy…

The crowd is slowly fading back as the lights get a bit dimmer. You squint behind the hundreds of gazes on you so you can see— and Christ, do you see it.

Him.

Miguel fucking O’Hara.

And his eyes? Those intimidating eyes…

They’re glued on to you. Nothing else but you, as if you’re the only breathing creature besides himself that exists in this room. It must be him, you can’t delude yourself into believing or seeing otherwise. He’s seated beside a smiling Jessica.

Your gazes lock.

Woah….

The air leaves you, and you’re certain you turn entirely red against your silver. You stumble, and Peter catches you.

“You okay?”

You turn to meet his warm brown orbs.

You need to leave— now.

You’re drunk, and nauseous.

“No no I- m’ sorry I have to go.” Like Cinderella in the night. Only you’re running from the monster, not to it.

The crowd “awws” in unison as you part from Peter’s hands and softly make your way to the stairs. You leave him confused as he grabs the vacant mic.

He takes the attention off of you and quickly puts it back onto himself, likely seeing the panic in your eyes. You’d suffocate if the crowd watched you crumble.

“The dancing queen everybody, leaving me quicker than my first wife.”

The stairs make you dizzy, you grip tightly onto the rail as you descend them. Oh, the room is spinning. It’s smaller. Are you panicking again? No no, you can’t. Not while drunk.

Why is Katerina coming to the forefront of your mind?

Oh god, you are.

“That was awesome!” Cindy calls, gently grabbing your arm.

All of it, it’s all echoing.

“I have to go…” you breathe out as you push past her. Merengue makes people move, so so much. It’s hard to weave through. You’re gonna vomit. You are so gonna vomit right now.

You huff,

“Excuse me, please…”

They don’t listen or make it easy, but you’re slender enough to push through for the most part. The trumpets still play in the background, chasing you out and the crowd is laughing at something Peter is doing on stage. You don’t pay it any mind.

You need to go, you need air— distance.

“Oh!” Another bump against your shoulder from the strawberry blonde, harsher this time and you fall against a brick wall. Er- that’s what it feels like.

Your hands immediately lift to steady yourself against the firm stranger’s torso as your body straightens up. You’re so, so dizzy— and you’re certain that you’re drunk now because your speech is slurred.

The tequila.

“M’ so sorry I-”

Your mouth goes slack once you’re able to lift the soft curve of your chin from where it once stared at leather shoes.

It’s then that the scent of firewood and espresso all floats back— slamming against your senses like a crashing wave to shore. So suddenly. Looking down at you under the sparkling lights, in the sea of joyous people…

Dark eyes, tense jaw, long hair…

It’s him…

Mr. O’Hara…

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @tabalittlelong @iitangerine | chap 8 song 🎧:

[sardonic-the-writer]

You van now marry me because I am interested in your tf2 headcanons

Tell me more please

so happy someone asked for this. giving your forhead a big fat smooch. also, i would habe included tracker in these, but i feel like that would have been a bit self pretentious

scout

• good artist. has drawn tom jones fanart before

• knows a little bit of french; his mom made him learn. also knows a few french songs because of this

• bisexual but battles with it a lot

• really appreciates his teammates and conciders all of them—except for maybe spy—to be his best friends

• terrified of medical procedures and terrible at hiding it

soldier

• brightest blue eyes you've ever seen

• wears underwear with the pattern of the american flag on them

• doesn't know it's not normal to have gay thoughts. literally would kiss a man sloppy style and then not understand why everyones looking at him. probably straight, but makes exceptions

• has had his hands cut off at least five times before. it's getting concerning at this point

pryo

• uses asl with their team and teaches those who don't know. they'll still use muffled sounds to communicate though

• has no gender actually. not trans, not cis, but a secret third thing

• aroace! latches so strongly onto platonic relationships though its actually insane

• attends bonfires with enigneer sometimes

• has a pair of onsie pajamas that they wear over their suit to bed at night

heavy

• is definitely in love with medic, no doubts to be had

• has a PHD in russian literature! a very smart fella, he just has trouble speaking his mind in english

• gay. so so gay. mlm all day

• the only merc to regularly check out books from teuforts library sans soldier. although he doesn't really check out books, he just yells at the librarian for not carrying sun tzu's the art of war

• sings little songs to sasha in russian

demomam

• has scars all over his chest from an accident with a grenade he had as a kid

• sends lots of post cards and souvenirs to his mom when he's on the job. he really loves her

• actually used to style his hair in dreads when he was a little bit younger, but just doesn't have time to do much with his hair anymore

• so casually bisexual; especially considering it's the sixties and seventies. takes interest in both men and women

• best friends with both his and the other teams soldier!

sniper

• his camper is such a mess all of the time. only ever cleans if he knows someone's going to be visiting, and even then there's a few stray piss bottles laying around

• plays poker & other card games with scout all the time. when they can't bet money, they'll end up using other things to play, like bullets or stray snacks

• thinks he likes both men and women. tries not to dwell on it too much since he gets anxious about it, but at the end of the day can't deny that he finds men attractive as well

• has a mug that says world's number one best sniper that miss pauling got him

engineer

• shortest mercenary r.i.p

• parental figure to pyro

• one of the only good cooks at the base. often ends up making dinner for everyone even if it's someone else's turn to cook that night

• has a prosthetic arm that he built from scratch & spends a lot of his time adding to/upgrading

• probably straight, but the biggest ally you'd ever meet

spy

• genderfluid. has a few lady disguises he's had to use before, and is just as comfortable in them as any other one of his disguises. definitely had gay sex with scouts mom before

• reverts to straight french when he gets irritated or upset

• heavily bisexual and very open about it with any of his partners. a man/womanizer

• the only merc with a sense of fashion to be frank. have you seen everyone else. soldier thinks being naked and covered in honey is the epitome of fashion for fucks sake

medic

• probably knows more about the medical field than any other doctor at the time. is actively dropping some medical talk & procedures that won't even be invented until a few decades later. he's fun like that

• owns one pair of regular clothes. everything else is lab coats and black pants. maybe a turtleneck or two if you're lucky

• super mega über gay for heavy. see what i did there

• also, i'd like to headcanon that he needs glasses because he's nearsighted of all things. it makes performing surgery hard without them

[fallenclan]

random cat-specific headcanons

or i guess. canons. since im the guy who made the clan.

-silverbelly is extremely soft on any cat/kit that joined the clan young. especially if they're around the same age she joined the clan, 3 moons. she always takes extra care to show them around camp and assure them if they ever need medical attention she wants them to come and tell her, and she promises she'll help. because of this, a lot of cats who joined the clan young are also very soft on her in return, and will sometimes just come to the medicine den to hang out.

-Wormshade has TERRIBLE allergies. the worst. in newleaf his nose gets extremely itchy and he keeps scratching it even when Flyspots keeps telling him not to. sometimes it makes the scar on his nose hurt from all the itching, poor fella. his kids (Beefreckle & Mothspots) make fun of him endlessly for this.

-on the topic of FlyWorm. flyspots absolutely BEGGED wormshade to name their kits after bugs when they came along. wormshade wanted to name one of them after Nick, but agreed that Nickkit was a weird name and they went with bugs instead.

-Maplestar & Applebranch both forget that Honeygleam is dead sometimes. every so often they'll be hanging out and instinctively go to say something to him and find he isn't there.

-Silverbelly still has some of the dried herbs that were always stuck in Stormsight's pelt. she found them on her fur after the vigil and tucked them away in a little crevice. sometimes when she's really missing him she'll lie down and rest her face on them.

-about 80% of the clan is under the impression that Juniperfoot, Myrtleclaw, and Sandsnap are dating. this includes Ospreyswipe (Juniper's brother).

-when Hawkwish lost her leg, Applebranch helped her with her physical therapy, giving her tips on how to improve her balance after losing a limb. this brought them really close, and now sometimes Hawkwish will go to the elder's den after a long day and hang out with her grandma, who is happy to listen to her vent, chatter on about nothing, or just sit in silence and wash her granddaughter's ears.

-Eaglestripe & Hawkwish were never very close to Rabbitpounce. he didn't mean to have kits with Molesong, and (with Molesong's permission) wasn't really interested in raising them. he was more like the socially awkward uncle to them than a dad. despite this, Rabbitpounce was the one who gave Eaglestripe her full name when she went to receive it at the glow-cave.

-Willowsplash and Bub are the WORST EVER cats to get in an argument with (closely followed by Bluefern, Evie, & Newtscar). they will not only verbally tear you to shreds (backing each other up the entire time) but they find any and all attempts at retaliation funny. absolutely infuriating couple that loves to get silly with it.

-Bluefern and Newtscar were best friends since they were kits. they grew up in the nursery together, and then they were apprentices together. when Evie joined the clan, they would sometimes laugh about how they both had a crush on him, and along the way, they realized they both had a crush on each other, too. they became mates with the hope that Evie would soon join them.

-Waspflight often feels overshadowed by her siblings, but covers up this insecurity with an energetic personality, and lots and lots of jokes. she had a little crush on Salmonskip when they were apprentices, but grew to see her more as a sister when Salmon and Moosefall started to date.

-Mossfrog isn't sure how she feels about possibly being deputy one day. she knows that a lot of the clan expects her to, since she was always a prodigy and graduated so early, but she's terrified of the idea of being in charge of an entire clan, even if she does like the idea of being able to look after them. sometimes she wishes she could be deputy without the expectation of being leader.

-most of the cats around his age have a crush on Myrtleclaw. hes charming like that.

-out of all of her siblings, Hailcrash was always the least close with Moonstep. they got along, sure, but they weren't best friends--despite this, she still relies on him a lot, even if she's a little older than him (Moonstep is the youngest of all Toro's kits).

-Maplestar was always the leader of the bunch (the bunch being him, Honeygleam, Applebranch, Silverbelly, & Dawnshine) when they were young. he was the most mature, and a good decision maker, so he often found himself reining in Honey, Dawn, and Apple's chaos, and stepping up when Silver was too shy to. because of this, they would sometimes jokingly call him Maplestar. Applebranch always secretly thought he'd make a great leader; turns out she was right.

-Boulderstep still sometimes worries that clanborn Fallenclan cats don't trust him, since he came from a clan that was, at the time, at war with them. Fallenclan is on better terms with Shallowclan now, but he still makes a point to avoid their borders, and not mingle with any Shallowclan cats at gatherings.

-on the topic of gatherings. the first gathering that Maplestar attended as leader, he almost called it quits and went home. he still thinks that he's never felt as awful as he did in that moment, as all the clans watched him step out of the crowd and jump to the top of the gathering rock, where his father had stood for as long as most cats could remember. the only thing that kept him there was Applebranch grinning at him from the crowd, even as she cried.

-though Sorrelstem still misses Otterslip, the memory of him has become less soft over time. she never went out looking for him (though she often wanted to), but she always told her kits that he was on the right side of history. sometimes, as time went on, she wondered if that was true.

-Teddyfluff was glad that Otterslip got exiled. he gave him the creeps. he would rather die than admit this to his beloved wife.

-Crowflame tries not to show it, but sometimes he's insecure about his scars. he's easily the most scarred cat in the clan, and some cats (especially kits and apprentices) will stare at him, or make a remark. Blizzardfang (his mate) has become excellent at figuring out when he's feeling especially awful. if complimenting how handsome he looks that day doesn't work, she'll simply stand on his scarred side and press up against him until her fur covers the injury. he pretends to be mad, but secretly loves being close to her.

-Yewberry has a very short temper. Brambletuft has helped him soften it a little, but he still finds himself set off by some things--particularly if any cat brings up Otterslip. he'll snap at them to shut up and forget about the past, and usually stalk off. more lighthearted things that make him mad are when Ivybounce calls him "little brother" (he's only a few minutes younger, thank you very much) or when people laugh about how much bigger Brambletuft is than him (he is NOT that small. fuck you).

i will be doing more of these. peace & love forever

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 9

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Scuse me, buttercup,” Dotty climbs up on one of the high stools along the craps table, “oh, look at this tall drink of water.”

You come up beside her, crossing your arms over the leather trim as she leers at the man next to her. You haven’t missed the comments or how she runs stream of mind, much like her son. It explains a little but not enough. You still don’t understand Lloyd, or was it Marion?

“You here alone, lovely?” She continues on, “if so, I think it’s my lucky day. I should run the table, huh?”

“He’s not,” a woman with cherry curls leans around the man caught in the crossfire, “he’s very much not alone.”

“No harm in askin’,” Dotty chirps as she places her chips on the table, “lotta cuties wanderin’ ‘round, don’t you worry, honey. You have fun with yours.”

The woman grabs the man and tugs on his arm. He sighs and collects his single stack before letting her drag him away. You watch Dotty as she chuckles.

“Oh, them young ones get so testy,” she chimes, “I like to rile ‘em up a little.”

“Uh huh,” you hum and toss in a chip as the dealer prompts for a bet.

“Not you though, I can sense it. ‘Sides, Pookie don’t like the insecure ones, ya know? He needs a girl gonna pull him around by his mustache.”

“He’s… unique,” you agree.

“Oh, he’s always been a special one. Me and Harley knew it from the start. ‘Fraid we didn’t do too good about the only child complex. He does love attention.”

“That’s one way to put it,” you scoff as your money is swiped away with a loss. Dotty on the other hand and handed a generous pot.

“Ah, you know the men folk, they gotta put on the brave face but they’re all melt like sugar in water once they got a woman’s hand around there… well,” she cackles shrilly and pushes her winning backs into the centre to wager. She either doesn’t care or doesn’t realise the risk. “Let me tell you, Harley lumbers ‘round like that Frankenstein fella, barely a word to be heard, but I get him on his back and he’s whimpering like a giddy puppy.”

“Dot,” you gasp.

She laughs and waves away your surprise, “like father, like son, I’m sure. You don’t gotta play coy with me. And knowin’ Lloyd, you don’t need any tips, neither. Oh, but we did try something new. Hon, you ever play around with hot wax–”

“Right, uh, no, not, um, yet?” You clear your throat awkwardly, the conversation veering well out of your control. She really is a lot like Lloyd.

“Too bad, but I think you’ll like your wedding present. We had it sent to your room for tonight,” she explains as another gambler takes the seat at her other side. She turns to greet the stranger with her fuschia painted smile, “oh, hello! You ready to lose?”

The man grunts and offers little rebuttal as he puts in for the pot. You pass as Dotty puts her elbow up on the table, “oh, wow, is that a tattoo? Oh, lord, can I see?”

You watch her long acrylics graze the man’s arm brazenly. She is the biggest flirt in the world. You’re happy enough to fade into her shadow. 

“Uhhhh,” the man drones in confusion.

“I been thinking of getting one, ‘bout time I’d say,” she pushes her chest out and puts her hands to her tits, “was thinkin’ a little bumble bee on the one and a honey pot on the other.”

The stranger chuckles, “cute, er, it’s just a lion,” he unbutton his shirt to reveal the rest of the snarling beast, only its mane visible previously along the edge of his collar. Dotty touches his firm peck and traces the line with her fingertip.

“Oh, you're so strong,” she preens, “did it hurt?”

“Little,” the man doesn’t pull away, apparently too dumbfounded to stop the groping.

“Dot,” you hiss and nudge her, “maybe we should move on–”

“And how’s a man like you all alone?” She ignores you.

“Well, I… I’m waiting for my buddies,” he shrugs as she caresses his chest and reluctantly pulls away.

“Early bird,” she praises, “what are you and your buddies doin’ in a place like this?”

“Bachelor party,” he answers, “gonna play some tables, see where the night leads.”

“Sounds delightful,” she claps and kicks her feet cheerily, “oh my, where are my manners, I’m Dotty, in my day they called me Naughty Dotty, and this is my daughter.” You give a small wave as she introduces you with a wave of her hand, “she just got married herself but you see, she didn’t get no bachelorette, so we’re here doin’ our best.”

“Oh, um,” the man leans over, “congrats, I, um, I’m Colin.”

You withhold a cringe. Of course that’s his name. Of course. You smile as Dotty squeezes his arm, “do you mind if maybe we tag along til your friends come around…” she gives a dramatic look around, “got all these creeps hangin’ around and I’m a small town girl, I wouldn’t mind a strong man to scare ‘em off.”

“Ah, sounds alright,” he says with a lilt of confusion.

“I’ll give you half my winnings even,” she offers, “big boy like you, you could take the whole pot.”

You try to hide your amusement as the man blushes. You lean over and lower your voice, “Dotty, maybe you should tone it down?”

“Nonsense, I love my husband,” she whispers back, “ain’t nothing wrong with a little flirting,” she shifts and covers her mouth, “he likes to fuck me when I tell him all about the young ones.”

Your eyes round and try not choke on your tongue. Well, this is gonna be an interesting night. Far from what you expected.

💎

“Dot, Dot, Dot!” The chant fills your ears as the half-dozen men slam their fists on the table.

Your mother-in-law tips the tall glass back as she drains it with ease, a trickle slipping down to her chin as she gulps down the lager. Your purgatory feels rather dull as you sip at a glass of tame lemonade and watch with startled fascination. She finishes and raises it in victory before plunking it down.

“You’re turn, baby boy,” she points at the thick blond with his burly shoulders, “take that shirt off.”

You shake your head. Your pleas for her to settle have gone unheard and at this point, you can only enjoy the show. It’s actually pretty amused by the whole show. You wonder if Lloyd knows about his mother’s antics. Either way, you can’t say it’s a boring night.

The man, Justin, shifts as another moves along the bench and he lays across the leather. He lifts his shirt and Colin puts a shot in his belly button before stepping back. Dotty bends to squeeze a trickle of lime along his stomach and licks the trail down to the glass before taking it in her mouth and standing to throw it back.

The men cheer again as she wobbles slightly in her heels. Your own feet are screaming from the strappy monstrosities you’d walked the expanse of the casino in. Dotty climbs up to straddle Justin and throws her arm up like a cowboy as she pretends to ride him like a horse.

“Okay, wow,” you shove your lemonade aside, “Dotty, I think it’s a bit late,” you stand as you raise your voice.

“Nooooo,” the symphony of male voices rumbles around you.

“Yes,” you insist as you grab her elbow and turn to speak to her directly, “what about Lloyd? Harlan?”

“They can wait, the night is young–”

“It’s after midnight,” you say.

“Oh, ain’t nothin’ wrong with some fun,” she warbles as she shakes you off, “eh.”

She reaches drunkenly to your strap and pulls it down your shoulder. You curse as your tit pops out and you quickly cover it back up as the men cheer again.

“Don’t she got a set, boys,” she trills and pushes herself off Justin. She faces you and gropes your chest, “come on and get a feel–”

“Woah, woah, stop,” you catch her wrists and shove her away.

“Yeah, stop,” a deep timbre undercuts the din, “ma.”

Dotty’s head wobbles as you both turn to face Lloyd. He doesn’t look impressed as his mother catches your arm and leans on you heavily. She giggles as you give him a look between desperation and shame.

“Pa’s waiting,” Lloyd marches forward and clutches her other elbow.

“Eh, who are you?” Colin comes up behind Dotty.

“This is my son,” Dotty strokes Lloyd’s sleeve lovingly, “isn’t he so cute?”

“Alright, let’s go,” Lloyd snarls as he pulls her forward, her heels clacking under her as you take her other arm, “sweet cheeks,” he speaks over her head, “hope you didn’t get your fill.”

[leonenjoyer69]

Both your OCs occupy space in my mind lol I love both Harry and Elias. Would you mind giving some more rambles please and thank you? About either one. I just love learning more about them.

VJEKBKDKF TYSM, I'M GLAD YOU LIKE THEM :D it makes me very happy to know that people enjoy my ramblings and art of my lil fellas :3 (also, all you sweet anons are gonna be the death of me with your mysterious identities!)

(SUB NOTE: if anyone ever has any ideas at all or art requests or something for either of my sillies PLEASE don't hesitate to bring them up I would literally love hearing any suggestion or answering any question ever)

Anyways!!! I've actually been waiting to drop a bunch of stuff on these fellas that I've been talking about with some folks on Discord (which y'all can also ask for if you wanna talk to me on there I LOVE TALKING TO YOU GUYS), so thank you for granting me the perfect opportunity >:3 so, without further ado, I shall begin:

First of all, i just wanted to drop my height HCs bc,,,, why not lmao

I can't exactly visualize heights very well in my mind so these may be a wee bit too tall, idk, but yeah! I think giving Hyde an extra half inch would be funny bc you KNOW that mf would just round up lmao. Elias is a bit taller than Hyde, which Hyde kinda hates sometimes, itty bitty fella.

Anyways!! Harry is first up for rambling bc I have less for him rn lmao. I don't remember if ive mentioned it much before on here, but I know I included it in the fic i did for him, and that's his Scottish accent :3 we as a fandom don't write Jekyll's accent enough so I like projecting it onto injured Hyde and now Harry 😌 MORE SCOTTISH JEKYLL PLEASE-

Harry didn't really have to worry about keeping face in the mindscape (except for when around Mind Lanyon, who would pester tf out of him over it) so he fell back to at LEAST having an accent. He partially fell back on it because 1, it made him feel a wee more comfortable, and 2, because of how often he revisited memories from university (specifically during his and Lanyon relationship ofc), so he's used to hearing himself speaking with at least a drawl.

But yeah, that accent kinda sticks with him when he gains control and he has quite a hard time shaking it, which makes for some fun interactions, like when Lanyon's trying to break down his office door :3333

I believe I've mentioned this, but Harry is very very sensitive to most physical sensations (touch, pain, etc.) and has some light and sound sensitivities for a decent bit after gaining control. Because of how long he spent in the mindscape with numbed senses, It really messed with him to suddenly have control again. Eventually he starts getting used to it again, but for the first few days he's practically on the edge of a mental breakdown at every moment. He's also super jumpy from it (and from the ungodly paranoia he got from the mindscape lmao) and is quite firmly "no touch" for about a week (except for when he initiates stuff with Lanyon). Once he gets used to it tho his touch starved ass is a lot more affectionate and such.

One last thing for him! He's also far more sensitive to hunger and thirst sensations/pain, so he tends to take far better care of their body while in control. It took him a short while to get used to eating and drinking again, but he's more than happy to do it, not realizing how much he had missed it. Plus, he's seen how horrible Jekyll and Hyde would take care of themselves, so he certainly doesn't want their neglect to be his downfall. He's also a bit more sensitive to being tired, but can't sleep very well (especially without Lanyon) because of paranoia and nightmares.

OKAY, NOW, onto Elias!! Most all this stuff is from a discord convo that I didn't feel like rewording, so... Sorry if the formatings weird 💀 (questions are indented and italicized, as well as abbreviated)

OKAY SO, For how Henry (or whoever) convinces Elias to switch back:

Elias usually throws some sort of fit when he's initially order to switch back (except for the very rare instances where he's actively wanting to switch back, like when everyone's busy and he starts getting lonely anyways), though most the time he'll simmer down when Henry starts sorta begging or when either Henry or Lanyon (or very occasionally Hyde) lowkey bribe him. Usually Henry (or Hyde) will bribe him with physical touch/affection (hugs, cuddling, kisses, stuff like that), or bonding time, like going out and doing things together and such (or just doing stuff together at the society, like watching Henry do science or doing paperwork 💀). (Also, sometimes Jekyll will just get somewhat impatient and start asking more desperately and the guilt kinda gets to Elias, Henry usually feels bad about it tho) otherwise, Lanyon will bribe him (quite grudgingly, might I add) with more time out, going to the park with Elias in shadow form and talking, or letting him get a gift for Jekyll or Hyde. But yeah, Elias is lowkey like a little affectionate, overactive puppy :3

[...] I misread "letting him get a gift for Jekyll or Hyde" as "letting him get a gift FROM Jekyll or Hyde" and swore for a moment that sometimes Jekyll/Hyde sent gifts to Elias but Lanyon stole them [... ]

LANYON WOULD TOTALLY STEAL ELIAS'S STUFF TO USE AS BARGAINING LEVERAGE 💀 but yes, bribery is the go to, this guy does NOT like being locked away, so when he does it's either out of guilt or he's getting something out of it, hehe

[...] Imagine that since Lanyon is probably taller than elias, he just hides some lf his stuff on higher places so that he cannot reach them, I feel like Elias would annoy the hell out of him so that he stops doing it though (Lanyon puts them back where they where, and when Elias isn't there, he just hides them again) also, I just imagined Jekyll like guilt tripping or manipulating him so that he drinks the potion

Oh he absolutely would, Lanyon would have a whole "confiscated" shelf for it too, and Elias would definitely whine about it with sooo much persistence. AND JFKGKKF YEAH JEKYLL WOULD 😭😭 both out of selfishness and not, since he still hasn't tested how the formula behaves when an alter ego is out for prolonged amounts of time, and sometimes he just wants Robert back.

Jekyll likes Elias, he just has more of a preference for Lanyon. Jekylls probably also got a bit less patience for Elias's whining after dealing with Hyde's for so long lmao, he always feels kinda bad about being mean or anything to Elias tho, since it's kinda his fault that Lanyon split.

Would Lanyon ever like bother Elias with the fact that Jekyll likes him better?? Like maybe, at one point he just gets too tired of him wanting to hang out with Jekyll and says to him that Jekyll just deals with him out of pity, and like Elias then just feeling kinda bad about it and wondering if Jekyll actually likes him??

If Lanyon's feeling especially spiteful and annoyed, probably, but also Elias worries about that enough on his own and bothers Lanyon with all his self deprecating thoughts anyways 💀

How does Hyde feel about Elias?

He's generally guilt free about the whole "splitting Lanyon" thing and /gen likes Elias way more than he likes Lanyon lmao. He still gets that sorta bitter anger and resentment when he looks at Lanyon, but he doesn't get that with Elias. Hyde kinda thinks that Elias is all the best parts of Lanyon (Except for Elias's emotional sensitivity sometimes, but Hyde deals. He feels surprisingly bad when he upsets Elias..) But yeah, Elias is most of the reason why Hyde is complacent enough to actually kinda lay low after messing up Blackfog and stuff, so Jekyll certainly likes Elias for keeping Hyde somewhat in check lmao

And that's everything I have for this!!! Thank you so much for the ask :D

[callsigndragon]

A Rebel In My Soul | Chapter 1: The best of the best

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Mitchell!Reader

Word count: 1,8k

Warnings: swearing, brief mention of death, Hangman being an asshole, reader has Rebel as a call sign (it is easier than use y/n all the time), enemies to lovers (i'll add more warnings in the future chapters)

Summary: Y/N "Rebel" Mitchell is one of the best aviators of her generation. She grew up hearing the adventures and stories of Maverick, her father, that he used as bedtime stories. She became an aviator with her best friend Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and now both of them have to come back to the Top Gun Academy for an important mission. Only the best of the best is called for this mission, including the southern idiot called Jake "Hangman" Seresin. Both of you had hated each other since day one. Now, having to work together once more, you count the days for this mission to be over, not only to never see Hangman again, but to also cut all connections again with your father.  

A/N: Okay so I saw Top Gun Maverick a few days ago, and I swear I've been living on Rooster and Hangman's fiction since then. I had this idea in my head, to make a whole series of Maverick's daughter, Rebel. I hope it turns out well.

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Y/n "Rebel" Mitchell was not supposed to be here. That's what her father thought. Maverick knew that the chances of survival in this mission weren't exactly high, that's what they called him. Maverick was an expert of going against the odds.  

That's one of the many things that you two had in common.  

When Maverick saw Rooster's picture in the screen, he thought he was going to pass out. He couldn't risk the life of his best friend's son. He swore to Carole that he would take care of him. But if he wanted to have a relationship with him again, he knew that he couldn’t interfere in his career. Not again.  

After the initial shock of Rooster’s image, he saw yours. His little girl. Another girl that he couldn’t keep by his side. Rebel was only a few years younger than Rooster. And, as if he hadn’t learned the lesson the first time, he tried to pull his daughter’s papers. He didn’t want her to become a pilot and risk her life every time she was in the air. Of course, when she find out, Rebel swore to never speak to your dad again.  

And that’s how the hardest mission on Maverick’s life began.  

You enter the Hard Deck, looking around to see any familiar faces. You see the one and only Hangman playing pool with Coyote. You knew them from the academy. Thanks to your dad, you entered Top Gun with Rooster.  

“Rebel?”, you hear a surprised voice behind you.  

You turn around and see the face of one of your best friends. “Phoenix? Oh my god, what are you doing here?” you say while getting close to hug her. “I missed you so much”  

“You thought that they could call the best of the best and leave me out of it?” says Phoenix turning around to introduce you to the two tall men behind her. “Rebel, these are Payback and Fanboy”  

“Nice to meet you, guys. Guess who’s here”  

Phoenix looks around the place until she sees Hangman, she sighs while rolling her eyes.  

“They need to be desperate to bring an asshole like him”  

Fanboy and Payback laugh at Phoenix antics. “Come on, he is going to be soooo pissed when he sees me”  

You and your little group move towards the pool table, Hangman raising his eyes just as you get closer. “What do we have here? If it ain’t Phoenix! Oh well well, good little Rebel is also in the building! And here I thought we were special Coyote”  

“Special like you? No thanks, I'll pass” you retort, making Fanboy and Payback laugh.  

“Fellas, this here’s Bag man” explains Phoenix  

“Hangman” 

“Whatever. You’re looking at the only Naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill” says Phoenix. You look at her, wondering why did she decide to say that to the new guys. She can’t stand him, why praise him then?  

“Stop” responds Hangman, his ego being inflated.

“Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War”  

There it is. Phoenix roasting the shit out of Hangman. That’s your girl.  

“Cold war” adds Coyote, as if it could make Hangman look cooler.  

“Different wars, same century” says Payback. 

“Not this one” adds Fanboy. You’re really beginning to like these two.  

The look in Hangman’s face is priceless. See Hangman got on your nerves every time you two were in the same room. But Phoenix was always ready to mop the floor with him because “nobody messes with my girl”  

Phoenix was like the sister you never had. And by the looks of it, Payback and Fanboy will be joining the Hangman’s roasting squad soon.  

“Who are your friends?” asks Coyote, trying to change the subject.  

“Payback”  

“Fanboy” 

“Hey Coyote” you say looking at Hangman’s friend 

“Hey”  

“Who’s he?” you ask while signaling with your head.  

“Who’s who?”  

Your little group turns to look at the dark blonde-haired man who has been eating the whole time. He raises his head, looking surprised of all the attention he is getting all of a sudden. He is cute.  

“When did you get in?” asks Coyote  

“Oh, I’ve been here the whole time” answers the man, smiling.  

“The man’s a stealth pilot” jokes Hangman, always trying to be the funny man of the hour.  

“Literally” 

 “WSO, actually” 

“With no sense of humor” Hangman gives the pool stick to Phoenix and leaves.  

“I’ll get us something to drink” you say approaching the bar. Seems like Hangman had the same idea.  

“Penny, my dear. I’ll have four more on the old-timer" you hear him say, looking at the poor guy that surely had made the bell ring before. You feel you stomach turn when you see the face of your father. Penny looks at you, a little pout in her mouth, knowing how this whole situation is making you feel.  

You don’t make eye contact with him. Instead, you choose to talk to Hangman.  

“Need help with those?”  

“What, you’re afraid I’ll let them fall?”  

“No, I was just offering” you mutter.  

Hangman looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.  

“What?”  

“...you okay?”  

“Yes? Why?”  

“Because you’re being nice to me”  

Before you can answer, you see Rooster entering the Hard Deck. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt, and his usual aviator glasses. He’s tanned, more than usual. You know the moment he sees Maverick hell is going to break loose. You need to avoid the confrontation.  

“Roos!” you call him, running towards him.  

“Look at that, my favorite Rebel!” he catches you in his arms, hugging you. “Did they call you too? You didn’t tell me” 

“Well, it is a secret mission, how am I supposed to say anything?” you ask, stealing his glasses and putting them on.  

“Fair point” he says, while letting you on the ground. “The others are here too?”  

“Yeah, even bagman”  

He chuckles when he sees you rolling your eyes. “Come on”  

You go with the rest, ignoring the feeling of your father’s eyes following you around.  

“Bradshaw, is that you?” calls out Phoenix.  

You two get closer to her. “This is how I find out you’re stateside?” 

“Yeah, I just thought I’d surprise you” 

Phoenix leans in the pool table, aiming at the next ball before pulling the stick in the opposite direction, hitting Rooster. He bends in pain and you can’t contain your laugh. Just like the old times. He looks up to her, smiling “It’s good to see you” 

“Good to see you too”  

Hangman comes back from the bar, beers in hand, looking directly to Rooster. He gives one to everyone except you and Bob. Great, now you have to come back to the bar again. 

“Bradshaw. As I live and breathe” he says while stealing the stick from Bob’s hands. 

“Hangman, you look... good”  

“Well, I am good, Rooster” he hits one of the balls, his aiming never failing. “I’m very good. In fact, I am too good to be true” 

You can see the rest of the aviators looking at each other, shaking their heads in disbelieve. Yeah, you stopped being surprised of Hangman’s ego long ago.  

“So, anybody know what this special detachment is all about?” Payback asks.  

“No, mission’s a mission. They don’t confront me”

“As if can care about something” you whisper to Rooster.  

“What I want to know: who’s gonna be team leader? And which one of y’all has what it takes to follow me?”  

“Yeah, like they would let someone called Hangman be the team leader” you declare, while taking off Rooster’s aviators. 

“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave” 

“Whoo!” Fanboy says before sipping from his beer.  

Hangman walks closer to the both of you, a smirk ready in his face, and mischief in his eyes. The guy’s an asshole. Hot and good at his job? Sure, but still an asshole.  

“Well, anyone who follows you two is either gonna run out of fuel” says while looking at Rooster “Or get themselves kick out from the team” Hangman finishes his sentence looking at you.  

It is true that you aren’t one to follow the rules to a T. You gained Rebel as your call-sign because of it. Your father always told you that sometimes, you need to stop thinking and start doing. And you have lived up to it ever since. It got you in trouble several times, but you were the first of your class, and even Hangman had trouble following you. You were really fast.  

Iceman told you once that you were just like your father. You really hoped you didn’t.  

“But that’s just you, ain’t it, Rooster? You’re snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment that never comes. At least she has more balls than you”  

The group stays silent, Hangman’s words echoing in the air, some of them looking at the ground. Seriously, what’s wrong with this guy? You walk closer to him, raising your head to look at him straight in the eyes.  

“Well, at least we have people willing to follow us. Have you looked around? Nobody will follow you as a team leader”  

If looks could kill, you would probably be dead by now. He leans over you, his face so close that you can feel his breath in your cheek. Green eyes piercing your own. If this guy was a bit less of an asshole you wouldn’t mind having something with him. But hell will freeze over before you even consider even being around him for more than ten minutes.  

“I would never follow someone like you” 

“Remember when I asked for your opinion? Oh yeah, me neither” you step aside, getting the stick from his hands and giving it to Bob.  

Hangman goes to sit with Coyote, Phoenix getting close to you and Rooster.  

“Well, he hasn’t changed” 

“Nope, sure hasn’t” 

“You know, everyone’s entitled to act like an asshole once in a while, but he sure does abuse the privilege” 

Both of them laugh, you stay with Phoenix while Fanboy nods in the direction of the other aviators entering the Hard Deck. You don’t recognize most of them.  

“What the hell kind of mission is this?”  

“That’s not the question we should be asking. Everyone here is the best there is” Phoenix is right. These are the best of the best, actually. Hell, Hangman is one of the best, even if it’s hard to admit. You two are fast as hell, of course you’re faster. But he has a hell of an aim, something you’re not as good as him. So, if you have been brought here to learn...  

“Who the hell are they gonna bring to teach us?”  

Phoenix asks the question you were pondering. You were trained by the bests and now you are the bests. Who can possibly teach you more than you already know? And then it hits you.  

“Oh shit”  

The person that is going to teach you is the same old man that is going to pay for this round of beers your friends are having.  

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell.  

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

I've an anthro tiger character who can walk/run/etc both bipedal and quadrupedal. Within the scope of the story he also becomes an amputee - so now hes missing his entire left arm and his right leg up to the knee. I've figured out that bipedally he mostly uses a crutch. but is there anything i can do for him that'll still let him scamper around? I've not been able to find reference for animals missing limbs in a similar configuration.

alright this one was fun. mobile aids for non-human bodies can be tricky, but it's cool and important!

the first step of course is making sure you can keep a character design relatively consistent in both a bipedal and quadrupedal stance.

(image description: simplified sketches of a feline character standing on all fours as well as upright on two legs. their left arm and right leg have also been colored over in red to note that these limbs are missing. there is also a note on the image stating that the arms and legs should be roughly the same length. end description)

keeping the limbs similar in length is important for quadrupedal motion, if you want the spine to be kinda parallel to the ground. otherwise, you get sloped backs which are not the best for smooth motion. but the more important part of this ask is the matter of mobility aids for a character that moves between bipedal and quadrupedal motion! so let's talk about that.

for one thing, if your character is not using a leg prosthetic, they'll need two crutches when they walk upright. one crutch is helpful when you have two legs but one of them is weaker, and in that case you'd use the crutch on the strong side, actually.

I previously reblogged a post about proper cane usage, but it can apply to crutches as well! and from what I've seen, the crutches that have a forearm brace are the most popular for comfort and ease of use. your character happens to be missing an entire arm on the same side he would be using a cane or crutch if he had a leg prosthetic on. so that does make things tricky. alternatively, he could use a leg prosthetic and not bother with a cane or crutch. but! you don't have to do that. you can still give him crutches, leave his right leg without a prosthetic, and even give him a versatile prosthetic for upright and quadrupedal motion!

conveniently, cats are well documented to manage just fine with three legs, whether they are missing a back leg or a front leg! there's even at least one cat out there missing both front legs and doing fine! so, your tiger fella really only needs one prosthetic to do both kinds of locomotion, I think. here's what I've got:

telescopic/collapsible arm prosthetic-crutch-combo and a collapsible or folding forearm crutch that can be carried on a belt when not in use.

(image description: the same feline character sketched upright and on all "fours", this time with added mobility aids. the notes on this sketch say "one leg, no prosthetic, requires two crutches. cats get along fine with three legs." the mobility aids drawn on the character include a folding forearm crutch and an arm prosthetic strapped to the left shoulder that can be extended into a tall crutch for walking upright. end description.)

play around with it until you're satisfied! if you just want a leg prosthetic instead, no crutches, then I think he could use the exact same prosthetic both upright and on all "fours" without the use of an arm prosthetic.

(image description the feline character again, this time showing a simple leg prosthetic that attaches at the knee, has a small thick piece bending slightly back, and then a longer straight rod ending in a foot pad. end description.)

you'll have to adjust the exact proportions and design to better match your character, of course, but these are the options i thought could work for your idea. I hope that's helpful and gives you more ideas for how you want to draw him! good luck!