#Yes his character also wears aviators.

[tomialtooth]

Dungeons and Dragons first came out in 1974 so it would be entirely possible for the cast of cold war to have sat down and played a game in the safehouse.

[daddykinkkinard]

! crossposting from my twitter !

bucktommy costume analysis 👔

hi ! i'm a fashion student and am really interested in costume design so i wanted to do a (long) post on tommy's style and how i think buck might be influenced by it in s8 as seen in "buck's britches." :))

[about tommy]

tommy's wardrobe is entirely functional and indicative of his dedication to his work. it's practical, useful, and speaks of his can-do attitude.

all his signature clothes (henleys, shackets, canvas jackets) have historical traces to being used as workwear.

(1) henleys - this one, ironically in the philippines it has its own term in our local language. it's called a camisa de chino and is used by laborers. although i live in a different country, i'm sure its use case is still the same for other countries as it's historically deemed the workman's undergarment.

also: yes. tommy is technically right. there were henleys in the 80s. even in the 1880s. so what we're learning here now folks, is that he's a smartass little shit.

(2) shackets - historically, also an item used by the working class. they were mostly worn to prevent any possible stains on inner clothes from their work (i.e. dirt, grease, grime, etc.)

(3) canvas jacket - although this was only seen in 7x04, it's more likely that he still owns a lot more. (waxed) canvas jackets are traditional workwear often used as weatherproof outerwear or heavy duty rainwear.

as a form of fun speculation, i'd like to think some of these items are also in his closet:

contrast collar canvas jacket

an authentic flight jacket

overalls, but only for when he fixes up the car

denim trucker jacket

if anything, who better to listen to when talking about tommy's clothes than tommy himself !

here's lou's cameo for me describing tommy's closet as rugged, practical and useful :))

[about "buck's britches"]

now to the "buck's britches" post. two notable items of clothing:

the famous flight jacket

baker pants.

now here's the thing about buck:

buck doesn't wear utilitarian clothing. in fact, he doesn't wear woven clothing all that much. he wears knit. knit polos. sweaters. hoodies. he is not a workwear person. in fact: he's a comfort person.

that's his primary reason for style that's a testament to his own character. buck is widely recognized as the more radiant and funny character. he has charisma and is very inviting, which is accompanied by his choice in clothing.

soft, warm, comfortable.

which goes back to the photo ostark posted on his instagram story.

(1) flight jacket - here's where i have to go and burst everyone's bubble for a bit. this is only a flight jacket because it's labelled as such. but categorically, it isn't. flight jackets are the classic term for bomber jackets.

bomber jackets (and flight jackets) were workwear used by the military, characterized by garterized cuffs and hems and short bodices. for pilots, they were interchangeable. but modernly, they have some more definable features.

characteristically, flight (or aviator) jackets are leather with shearling or sherpa collars. bomber jackets are the modernized version taking the silhouette and cuff designs and making them more accessible through material choice (linen—like buck—nylon, silk)

(2) baker pants - as the name suggests, it's a piece of kitchen workwear often in twill (which i'd assume is what oliver is wearing), denim, cotton or linen. it's characterized by the topstitching to outline the pockets and diagonal pocket openings (vs. the usual curve).

so very evidently: buck has been influenced by tommy's style. he's wearing woven material versus knit for one. if i were hopeful, i'd say they're exploring one another's style because they're sharing a closet.

[character analysis]

woven fabric as a material is sturdy. it's more structured and does not stretch. think: cotton, linen, rayon, wool, denim. what this means for buck is that, by virtue of being tommy's boyfriend he is introduced to structure, groundedness and maturity.

tommy's closet is filled with utilitarian clothing and workwear. he, as a character, is known to be emotionally grounded and mature and it translates to his clothing.

buck adapting the defining features of his wardrobe shows how much tommy has helped him get off his hamster wheel.

in fact, even the inverse can be noted. when buck asks for a second chance and practices communication towards tommy. he's wearing a woven buttondown. and in emphasizing tommy's desire to make buck comfortable, he's in a hoodie. neither of which are common for one another.

buck and tommy, even through subtle clothing choices are becoming part of one another's world and that makes me so soft as someone whose love language is fashion.

[wishful thinking]

perhaps maybe we could see tommy in a fully casual sweat set? i know that they might be protecting lfjr but man. if i see a hoodie on him. (nqueso, if you can sneak me a photo of him in knitwear ill love you forever i just want to prove my theory right i wont even post it)

if they are putting buck in this sort of attire, my guess (or hope) is that they have tommy ease up too.

it would be nice to show buck's effect on tommy as much as tommy's effect on buck because tommy's an established character and has a backstory that the writers could explore.

so if the 9-1-1 costume designers ever see this:

please put tommy in a sweat set. or a hoodie. (not a zip-up one, im talking real hoodie). i'm willing to compromise with overalls. i see what you're doing with buck's wardrobe, and love it. maybe tommy's could soften up too :))

thanks for reading ! 🫶

[gonetoforks]

concept sketches of tfa jettwins humanformers, they feel almost cooked :D

character design infodump & bonus bumblebee under the cut!

first off, yes i gave them the stereotypical slavic guy adidas inspired tracksuits lol (￣∇￣) they cropped the jackets themselves cause detroit is a lot warmer than eastern europe and they didn't bring any other types of clothes i guess

Since trying to keep unique aspects of their silhouette are important to me, I turned jetstorms little head pokies into bluetooth earpieces, so i landed on the idea of them being a 2 person aviator team like the wright brothers. Safeguard is just the name of their plane, Jetfire pilots while Jetstorm works comms & air traffic control

+ based them loosely off of their voice actors, phil lamar (JS) and tom kenny (JF)

⬆️ they're still birth twins, i've seen some rare times where biracial twins just max out their stats with one parent, genetics r weird sometimes lol

———

+ bonus bee i did on paper, needs some minor adjustments imo but i am liking it so far.

He along with the rest of the crew are essentially construction workers being Space Bridge Technicians so, yeah.

A good trick i use is to ask myself “if i drew them over top of dialogue from the show, do they look like their voice would fit their appearance?” Because of that and also personality-wise he’s always struck me as kinda college guy aged.

(⬆️ Minor Rant abt portayals of his age; I don’t see anybody else draw him as an adult which i understand a bit cause yeah i guess, he gets along well with Sari and whatnot. But the fact it’s really common just annoys me a bit. Cause as someone with adhd, it’s easier for me to notice where one sits on the scale of people who are immature cause they’re young vs people like me. So im rly sensitive to “Heartbreaking; Character Who Pays Taxes And Works A Full Time Job Gets Babyified By The Fandom After Displaying Hyperactivity And Inattentiveness.” I’m ranting, mb, I’m sorry they don’t understand your unmedicated neurodivergent frat boy swag bumblebee lmao)

& again i tried to keep his silhouette so i thought, “maybe he’s a kinda small, lanky guy, so subconsciously he wears things like puffy jackets, big boots and big gloves to make himself look bigger.” + Yellow hard hat with little flourishes that kinda? look like horns?

Also big eyebrows, cause he’s very expressive. Big expressions should have big eyebrows lol (see Donatello)

[sweetbillwriting]

Way Out of Line

NINE

Character: Keith Toshko from Barbarian (2022) played by Bill Skarsgård.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: This chapter can be triggering.

My fingers dragged through my hair over and over while I curled into myself in panic until I couldn't get my thighs any closer to my chest.

“Oh my god…! Oh my god…!” I said, lowly, but I didn't cry; those feelings hadn't taken over yet. 

Keith looked at me with worry and crawled closer. 

“She's probably had a feeling about this for a long time, and now that she saw us… She could accept it,” he said with a shoulder shrug, as if everything was okay. I looked up at him with disbelief in my eyes. 

“It's my mom we’re talking about! She gets angry when I wear a dark shade of lipstick!” 

Keith licked his lips and looked down at the mattress. I know he just wanted to help, but what he said was too unbelievable, and it sounded like he thought he could fool me. 

"Aren't you worried? She could tell your wife!” 

Keith looked at me with big eyes and then wiped the corner of his mouth. 

“She would never.” 

“Oh, yes, she would!” I said it with more attitude than he deserved, but it felt like he was in denial. Keith looked away, but after a few seconds, he started to crawl down under the cover. 

“Maybe we should sleep and think about this tomorrow?” 

I scoffed and harshly pulled at my hair, like a punishment for doing what I've done. It was a behavior I had during my younger years but hadn't done since my early teens. 

“Hey, hey,” said Keith, taking my hands in his, pulling my fingers from my hair. “I'm sorry for this, okay? But… I want to fix this. And I think we can. Okay?” 

I looked at him hopelessly but nodded. I didn't believe him, but his smooth voice and movements made me let go of the stress, and instead, the tears started to flow. Keith hushed me and pulled me into his lap so I could cry against his shoulder like a little child would. Soft fingers dragged through my hair while he rocked me in his arms. 

“It's okay, honey… I will fix this… I promise I will fix this…” 

If you dance, I'll dance. And if you don't, I'll dance anyway. Give peace a chance. Let the fear you have fall away…

××× 

I didn't sleep well that night, even if Keith lay as the big spoon behind me most of the night. It felt like my mom still stood in the doorway, looking at us. I even sat up a couple of times to just see if she was there, but the door was closed, and no light could be seen coming from under it. She may have been asleep, even if that was an unbelievable thought. 

I woke up early the next day, with the tip of my nose pressed against Keith's neck. He lay on his back snoring while I lay on his arm, as close as I could come without mounting him. I pulled my nose away and looked at his profile while he snored softly. He was handsome even when he slept, and I wonder what a man like him saw in me. That thought moved on to become thoughts about his wife. I hadn't even seen a picture of May; still, it felt sometimes like she was outside the window, looking at us. I thought about my mom again and how I wanted to see her. It was best if I met her without Keith; that would just make the situation messy, so carefully I stood up and pulled on a pair of floral pajama pants and a pink tank top. I braided my long hair to make her less upset that I had slept with it down. My hair was her hair, after all. 

I looked in the kitchen first, sneaking around the corner to see her before she saw me, but the kitchen was empty. In the hallway I could see that my dad's gray everyday-coat was gone, and I knew then he was at work. Did that mean she hadn't told him? 

I looked in the living room, the TV room, the dining room, and even my parents bedroom, but it was empty. For a moment I thought she had also left, but then I saw through the window in their bedroom that she was catching the first sunshine of March on the sundeck. She sat in her thick puffer jacket but with her aviator sunglasses on. It looked nice. I loved my mom, but I was also a bit scared of her. I knew she wanted my best, but she felt she needed to threaten, yell, and shame me to get me to obey. It was rare that I didn't do what she said. This time I wanted to stand up for myself, especially when I had a whole man behind me, but still it took a long time for me to dare to go out to her. 

I pulled on my red coat and Converse and walked out to her, trying to go out with a straight back, but it fell down to its normal submissive way when she looked at me. Because of the sunglasses, I couldn't tell how she looked at me and I swallowed hard, but I moved quicker when I understood she would say something. I sat down on the chair next to her and looked out over the yard just like she did. 

“I hope you're not proud of yourself for this…” She muttered when I had gotten used to the silence. I turned my eyes to her, but she didn't look at me and hadn't removed her sunglasses. 

“He went to college with your father. We were guests at his wedding and had left you at home with your grandma to play with Barbies. Do you hear how sick that is?” 

I swallowed hard; I didn't know what to say because, of course, I could hear it didn't sound that good. 

“I've talked with his wife. I know why they will divorce.” 

I looked at her now in another way. It was weird that his wife suddenly came so close, like she was friends with my mom. I didn't want to care, but still I waited on her to continue with a beating heart. 

“Wandering eyes. He can't stop, and most often it's young women. Keith is a good friend to your father, and he has nothing malicious in him, but he has a problem. She found his search history on his phone. It was more or less just porn, and it was… Videos in theme with his problem. Don't you see you're just a fetish?” 

My chest burned in a way I had never felt before when she talked, and in my head, Keith's face changed. Dark shadows morphed his face into a man I didn't know. I literally tried to shake off the image out of my head and dragged my hands over my face. 

“He loves me,” I said with a weak voice. My mom didn't say anything, like she didn't think it was worth her time. 

“I don't want to involve your father in this and count on you keeping… Keith outside of this too.” 

I nodded fast, just happy hearing my father wouldn't know what I had done. 

“What do you say about us paying for that trip to Paris you've always wanted to do with Farah, and in return, you stop seeing him.” 

“Mom…!” I gasped, upset, and felt my body slowly becoming possessed with a strong panic. 

“And then I also won't tell his wife that he’s having an affair with a twenty-year-old girl. I don’t think Keith, or his cousins who own the company with him, would want to share their money with her just because a naive little girl believed she would get married to a millionaire.” 

“Mom…!” I whined again but with tears in my throat now. My mom was really blackmailing me. Maybe she did it because she believed it was best for me in the long run, but it was still unbelievable. I never thought I would get blackmailed, especially not by my mother. She just groaned, irritated, and stood up.

“I'm so ashamed of you, Jaqueline. How can you be so stupid you believe a married, rich, middle-aged man would want to be with you? Maybe he’s attracted to you; I absolutely believe so because you're a stunning girl, but when he's divorced, he will realize he wants to play with someone in his own league. I don't say this to be mean; I say this so you don’t throw away your best years on a man who will never be pleased with you.” 

Mom gave me a look of pity as I sat crying loudly like a little child. If I had been a child, she would have tried to comfort me and given me a motherly embrace, but now she just looked at me in disappointment like I was too much of an embarrassment to even have the right to cry. 

She left me alone on the sundeck and walked down to the gate at the end of the yard to the walking trail that stretched out behind our neighborhood. I didn’t know if I wanted to be alone or not. If I wanted to beg for her forgiveness, run up to Keith and beg him to love me, or if I should just plan my trip to Paris and then run away from them both.

××× 

I felt a resistance to looking at him where he sat in my bed, blinking the sleep from his eyes with my floral cover around his hips. He was an enigma of a man. When I looked at him, he could fool me into believing he was younger, even doubting his age sometimes, but I never forgot his 38 years, or 39 years. In a month it would be his birthday. His soft chocolate locks were messy, giving him a boyish look. His stubble had grown longer, crawling down his neck. Right at that moment he looked innocent, like all his earlier sins were forgotten, but I remembered them and knew how demonic he could look when he angled his face. I didn't know where I had him at all. I had accepted him as my Daddy without questioning it, like I had waited for such a relationship, but I didn't know much about that sort of dynamic. I had never questioned why he wanted that. If he had earlier experiences of it. Maybe it was something he just needed to try, and there I was, desperate for his attention. He, a porn addict, meeting a girl desperate for attention and male validation. 

“Hey?” He looked at me with sleepy eyes where I sat on the chair by my vanity table. I smiled, unsure, but he didn't seem to care, as he stretched out his hand towards me. I would never be able to resist taking his big hand and letting his long finger wrap around mine. He pulled lightly to make me understand he wanted me close. He smiled that boyish smile, and I felt myself melt. I giggled and let him pull me down as I straddled his lap after he had pushed away the cover. 

“It's okay, baby… It's a new day now…” he said lowly, and I nodded while looking deep into his eyes. I felt comforted and let him kiss me. Keith dragged his hands over my waist, my back, and down to my bum while continuing to kiss me. Even if I loved his soft kisses and his loving hands, I couldn't stop thinking about his porn history. I had seen porn one time when Farah wanted to tease me for my innocence. The girls looked like they were bought at Shein, and they begged to get dick like they were starving. Was it that he wanted?

I could feel him grow under me even if I still wore pajama pants. 

“Is someone home?” He groaned and dragged his hands over my chest. It really felt like he just saw me as those girls my mom had said he wanted, but still I felt my nipples get hard and my sex start to ache. 

“No…” 

“Take them off, your pants… Take it all off…” 

I did what he told me even if my feelings flew around in all directions. He pulled out his erection without taking his underwear off, and it made it feel even more dirty. He didn't even try to make it feel intimate anymore. While dragging his hand over his erection, he stretched his long arm out to the drawer in my nightstand and pulled out a condom in a black plastic wrapper. I didn't even know he had put them there. He was always ready. Every moment with me could become time he could hammer me down in bed. I looked at him while he put on the condom skillfully. I liked the visual, his thick long cock and his big manly hands, elegant but strong. I wanted it inside me even if I wished I could give him the cold shoulder. 

He held his cock in place and looked at me with a darker gaze than before. He laid his other hand on my waist to show me what he wanted, but to my surprise, he steered me to lie down. His unreadable eyes looked at me, inspecting my eyes and lips before he kissed me deeply. Slowly, he dragged the tip of his cock between my folds. I knew he missed my wetness; he had said that before when he had worn a condom, it was also the way he knew I was ready for him. It seemed like he took the risk that I wasn't ready for him that time because he pushed in without checking if I was wet enough. 

“Is it okay?” He asked when he had pushed in half off his cock, and I nodded with my leg on his hip, feeling the elastic of his boxers against my skin. He pushed in the rest of his thickness and smirked when I moaned deeply. Just having him inside me was a wonderful sensation. 

Keith rolled his hips with purpose while looking me deep in the eyes. I didn't let go of the eye contact and stared at him like I hoped I would see his real self show itself in his light eyes. I could feel a building pressure in my belly while he pleased me, and I hated that I couldn't control my pathetic moans. He laid over me, restricting my movements; he was closer to me than any human had ever been, and he made me, for the first time aware that my heart could skip a beat. Keith owned me. He could do whatever he wanted with me, and I would do it. I lay there with my legs spread even if I was so close to losing my family. We had seen each other for three months. He shouldn't have such power over me. 

My orgasm built fast when Keith's middle finger started to rub my clit from side to side. I was so close to heaven, but I didn't want to go in. I needed to close the pearl gate because when I looked at the man I thought had been my angel, I now just saw the devil himself. 

“Stop!” I screamed in panic, pushing his broad chest harshly. Keith, who was close to his own orgasm, reacted slower than I wanted, and in my suffocated feeling, I couldn't wait and kicked and hit him much harder than I thought I even could. I didn't know where my hands, feet, and knees landed, but it made Keith move quickly but with a painful sound. Free from his weight over me, from his hands on my body, I could cover myself up and look at him. He had pulled on his boxers completely and looked at me with a heartbreaking look, but it wasn't just that; on his left cheek and low on his chest were two long scratches from my nails. The one on his cheek seemed to be deep because the blood was dripping down his porcelain skin. 

“Oh my god…" I whispered, regretfully when he wiped the blood with his thumb. Keith looked at his scarlet-colored fingers and then up at me with so much hurt and confusion that his face changed to a little boy’s. I could see his lower lip shaking, his eyes moving stressed from side to side in such a glassy state, the sun from the window reflected in them. Slowly, he nodded like I had said something, then he gathered his clothes from the floor.

“Keith…” I cried. I didn't even know what to say, because I didn't know what I wanted, but it was obvious my sudden outburst in violence had hurt him deeply. 

Keith gave me a quick look, then he just nodded again. The tears were close to escaping from his eyes, and he acted like he didn't have the right to say anything, like I had silenced him for life. 

“Please, Keith…” I wiped away my own tears. It felt like my body was lame and my brain slower because I didn't succeed in doing more than that, and then Keith left my room in fumbling stress.

×××

Even if I had the most beautiful bedroom a girl can wish for, in a big house in a good neighborhood, with a soft bed, clean expensive clothes, and a bathroom with luxury in every corner, I felt homeless. I sat in said bed; I hadn't moved an inch since Keith had left my room and a numbness crawled out in my limbs so heavy it felt like it slowly ate up my identity.

I had always been so sure of who I was. I was Dr. George Bailey's daughter. I had good grades, did drama, and pretended to read Jane Austen and the Bronte Sisters. I have hair and cheekbones that make people envious and a wardrobe any girl on Pinterest would die for. My parents had created a safe home for me with every material thing I've ever wanted and rules I never questioned. Until I met Keith. The prince who was coming to tell me about the real world outside. But he wasn't like Flynn in Tangled that gave me easy answers and Disney charm. Everything with Keith felt a bit dirty, not at all as dreamy and clean as I had learned a prince should be. He was married, had lied about his background, and mostly just wanted to penetrate me so hard I wouldn't be able to sit down for weeks. He had made me question my parents, the only home I had, without offering me another one. I was homeless, standing on my own for the first time in my life, and I hated it.

I seemed to have believed the world was on pause so I could think everything through by myself, but the world wasn't that kind and shocked me when I saw Keith outside of my window, on the street, putting his suitcases in the back of his car and then letting the trunk close by itself. I looked at him like he was just a character in a movie, wondering what he would do next instead of realizing it was my lover who jumped into the Volvo’s driver seat and closed the door without looking at our house. It was when the car actually rolled away that I realized what I had actually seen.

××× 

I cried loudly and messily while dressing myself. It probably sounded like a five-year-old lost her doll, but it was just a twenty-one-year-old who had lost the love of her life. I didn't care that it looked like I had gotten myself ready in the dark because it felt like I had; everything was dark without Keith. My outfit was a mess in a lilac velour set and my red coat to my well-used Converse, but I didn't care. I just needed to speed up to Keith. 

I ran past my mom on my way out to the garage, but at that moment she was as important as the monstera plant next to her. She has to wait. I sped away in my Beetle in the direction I had seen Keith drive. Where would he go? For a moment I thought that he would go to his wife but got a bad conscience at once. I had thought awful things about him that day; none of them were true. I needed to stop making him into a villain when he wasn't. He was the man I loved who hadn't been anything else than wonderful to me. 

With a shaky hand and my eyes on the road, I got out my phone from the coat pocket and then dialed Keith's number. I had memorized it because I couldn't save it, and I would probably know it for the rest of my life now.

He didn't let me sit nervously wondering if he would answer for so long, but his voice didn't calm me down because his hello was distracted and ignorant. 

“Please, Keith, where are you? Please, please…!” A new storm of tears came over me, and for my own safety, I parked on the side of the road. 

Keith was silent, and I could just hear my own desperate crying. 

“Please, Keith, Daddy, please, please…” I stuttered and received a sigh back in my ear. 

“Jaqueline… I thought you felt I hurt you?” Keith said, his voice soft but distant, like he didn't want to talk about it. 

“No, no. No, Keith! No. Where are you?” 

“I'm at a hotel. I must live somewhere…” 

“Which? I can come to you!” My desperation made me sound as if I were excited, but in reality I was just stressed and terrified I would lose him. I could hear that he was doubting, but for some reason he answered and gave me the name of my town's most luxurious hotel and the presidential suite. I shouldn't have been surprised; he was a millionaire after all, but yet I reacted to it. It felt like a sign, he was done playing with me now and would go back to dating women in his “own league.” He had played the character of a “humble jazz musician” well, but now he was back to being an “arrogant rich man.”

The hotel wasn't the high, imposing building newly rich tourists lived in, but the old, grand hotel that had existed through the ages. They didn't accept just anyone to live there, just members, and they had hightop security so their VIP guests could feel safe. I was forced to stay outside the door of the hotel and wait for the reception to call Keith before they let me in, and because I didn't have an ID, they filmed me so he could see me. I had been a crying mess before, but the long process to just meet Keith made the tears dry and annoyance spread in my chest instead that didn't go away until I saw him. The receptionist led me through the restaurant of the hotel to a seat in the corner, two armchairs by a little round table, which one of the chairs Keith had folded his long body into. It really felt like I was looking at someone else because the Keith in the teak-colored armchair wasn't my Keith. He wore a midnight blue suit in a thin, velvety material that looked expensive in its simplicity. He had a stark white button-up under that was so bright that it stood out against the restaurant’s dark interior. His hair was as messy and slicked back as it usually was, but now the hair made him look chic instead of nonchalant. The suit made all the difference. 

I stood in silence and looked at him with big eyes. I didn't know what to say to the man in front of me, because it really didn't feel like the Keith I was used to but I also reacted to the long red scratch mark on his otherwise smooth cheek. I had really hurt him. 

“Are you okay?” He asked instead and tied his fingers together in his lap. I nodded doubtfully and sat down when he did a motion towards the other armchair. We looked at each other with empty eyes. Maybe he saw me differently now too while he sat there in his correct environment with his regular work clothes on and looked at the little girl in front of him dressed in a lilac velour set and Converse. Maybe he saw that I wasn't like the girls in the porn he watched or neither like the women he could date in his own circle. I was just a stupid girl. 

“I never meant to hurt you… In any way…” 

His voice was low, just like his eyes, and he moved so he sat a bit leaned forward towards me. Even if he didn't look at me, I could see he was ashamed and uncomfortable, and even if he wasn't my Keith anymore, I didn't want to see him feel like that. 

“I know, Keith. I know. It was… I just started to think, and my emotions… I just felt trapped suddenly and… I didn't know how to… How to handle it,” I stuttered, as I fiddled with the ribbons on the velour jacket. I met his big, green eyes but could just see sadness. It was my Keith's beautiful eyes. It was my Keith in that expensive suit, but I couldn't read him. 

“What did you think?”

“Ehm… That I would lose my family…” I said honestly, even if there were other thoughts too.

“That our relationship would make you lose your family?”

I nodded and looked around at the restaurant. In the corner of my eye, I could see Keith drum with his fingertips against his lips and nod slowly. 

“You mean because they would never accept me as your-… Accept me?” He swallowed when he realized he didn't have a good word for himself either. I still didn't dare to look at him because I could hear the conversation with my mom in my head. I felt a bit sick and moved subconsciously in the chair, and Keith took that as a yes to his question. 

“I just thought…” His voice was weak and disappeared completely before he could say what he wanted; instead, he dragged his hands over his face and looked out through the window with a tired look. You could see the hotel’s courtyard there with a little fountain they hadn't put on for the season yet. The sun shone hopefully on it, though, and a small bird jumped around it on a hunt for food. They were signs that spring was coming. A new season with new possibilities. A brighter, warmer one.

I looked at Keith again, who looked back at me with his big, mesmerizing eyes. I wanted to experience spring with him, being in love in the season of love, sitting in cafes, making out in the grass, touching his skin that had been warmed and kissed by the sun, but it could never happen. It would never happen. 

When I stood up from the chair, Keith didn't move at all. He just looked at me in that tired, hopeless way and nodded a little.

“It's… I don't know what kind of a fairytale I thought this was… I guess both of us lost the grip of reality?” I said with a shoulder shrug and a laugh even if the tears started to run down my cheeks. Keith still didn't say anything; instead, he just nodded, like he agreed. He lowered his gaze towards his polished leather shoes and tied them more neatly. I looked at his odd behavior and couldn't interpret that in any other way then, that he wasn't interested in listening to me anymore. I gave him a final look even if his full attention was on the shoes, and then I turned on my heel and left. 

My heart ached, and it felt like it was ready to give up, but I didn't cry as loud and dramatic as before because I wasn't in panic. I had already lost him. It was over now. 

It was finally over. 

But no matter how I try to. And no matter how I want to. And no matter how easy things could be if I did. And no matter how guilty, I still feel saying it. I wish I hated you…

××× 

Next stop: Paris. 

× 

[creedslove]

"he was my first and i was just another girl"

Is perfect scenario for Pedro boys and reader 🥰

Javier Peña x f!reader

A/N: omg I thought of so many scenarios for this one, but there was only one answer: Javi and we know it 🚬

• Laredo was a small city and everyone knew each other there, even if you didn't know the person per se, you had heard of them, and of course things wouldn't be different when it came to the infamous Javier Peña, the local hero and also hot gossip of the place

• you'd heard too much about him, his adventures in Colombia, the Escobar hunting and of course the most famous story about Javier Peña of all times: his runaway wedding. It was just so amusing as it didn't seem real at all but rather the tales of a fictional character and especially when you saw Javier for the first time, because you certainly didn't expect him to be so handsome

• you sort of expected him to be kind of pathetic, you were not sure why, but perhaps because you'd heard he used to wear tight jeans, colorful shirts, aviators and stuff like that, the image painted in your mind couldn't be further from the truth: yes, he did dress up in that corny way, but he was painfully handsome like you were not expecting

• and flirty too, you didn't expect him to be that flirty, but he was and against all of your judgments, you accepted a drink from him, what was the worst that could happen? He was a sight for sore eyes, his smile was to die for and the way he called you cariño for the first time you felt you were melting

• so a drink at a bar became two, and then it became dinner and then it turned to a salsa dancing date which surprised you because you never knew Javier Peña could dance, but he was quite good at it and it was so tempting and intense when he grabbed you by the hips and clung your bodies closer as you swayed them together

• and after that, it didn't take long for the two of you to crawl into bed together, and not only the bed, but his car, his ranch, the barn, the lake and many other places around the city you were sure that weren't really allowed to be used for that purpose, but it didn't matter

• you couldn't get enough of Javi, he was perfect, too good to be real, and it was too good because he made sure to tell you he didn't do romances or relationships and you were just on board with him, as you also didn't do romances or relationships... You had nothing against it, but it wasn't just your thing

• however, whenever you were around Javi, it sort of seemed that maybe, and just maybe, things could lead somewhere, because it was just so good, it came to a point you did everything with Javi: you went out together, you had ice cream by the main square, you both went to the movies, rode horses, you even helped him out at the ranch here and there

• he liked you, you were pretty, sweet, funny and he enjoyed your company, he just worried that maybe you both were just too connected somehow and when he realized you were starting to become more and more attached to him, he thought it was time to stop things for a while; he didn't want to make you think things were actually something else when they clearly weren't

• so as much as it hurt him, he decided to break things up, it would be better that way, then you could do your own things and move on with your life and he would do the same, no strings attached and no worries about it at all

• you didn't take it very well, you didn't see it coming, always thinking that you two were enjoying the relationship equally, but turns out it wasn't as you expected. However, you accepted it, there was nothing you could do but to accept it and set Javi free, deep down, you knew he wasn't meant to be trapped with only one person, he belonged to everyone

• as you watched him take another girl out exactly the same way he has taken you out several times before, you still felt a pang in your chest, sighing at the realization that was bitter as the truth: he'd been the first one you loved, but to him, you were just another girl

____

[bnnywngs]

Lan Wangji was nervous. He shouldn't be, but he was.

After spending summer in Japan with his brother, his brother's best friend and said friend's younger brother, who's also his classmate (also known as Nie Huaisang), today was his first date with his year long boyfriend Wei Ying since he was back (two days ago).

They decided to go out for boba and a walk on the park before going to the Lans townhouse so Wei Ying could get his presents and souvenirs. Lan Qiren already asked for a spicy plate for the boy to eat at dinner, even if the teenagers haven't said anything about it. His uncle just know them well enough.

Anyway, Lan Wangji wasn't nervous because of the date itself, he knows how to make Wei Ying happy and a happy Wei Ying makes him the happiest. No, he was nervous about the giant bunny plush he won on gacha a few weeks ago.

(he spent over an hour and countless coins on it. Nie Huaisang was highly amused watching and filming him getting a meltdown every time it fell)

As usual, their date was excellent and Wei Ying smiled the whole time, not letting go of his hand or arm. He pouted and whined a lot, about missing him, about his jealousy (even though he traveled with his parents to the beach somewhere in Thailand, away from humid and hot gigantic city), and Lan Wangji make sure to hug and kiss him a lot to make up for it.

Then they went back to Lan Wangji's house and he started feeling his heart beating faster.

Because of house rules, they couldn't go to Lan Wangji's room by themselves, so Wei Ying sat on the living room floor to play with his boyfriend's pet bunnies and waited for him to come back with his presents.

"Wei Ying." Lan Wangji called.

"Lan Zhan!"

The boy looked up with a bright smile and Lan Wangji could feel the love arrow pierce his heart once again. He had to pause for a moment before kneeling down.

"For you."

"Yay!" Wei Ying cheered, taking the paper bag "Should I open now or wait until I get home?"

"Here." Lan Wangji nodded, glad his boyfriend didn't realized he hid the big plushie beside the couch.

Wei Ying got excited with each item, even the ones for his parents and little sister. Although he did started complaining it was too much halfway through. Wei Ying got especially happy when he found the photo strips from the booth Nie Huaisang made him go in Harajuku.

"Thank you so much, Lan Zhan." he said when finished, putting everything inside the bag again.

"...There's one more." Lan Wangji confessed, accepting his hug.

"One more?" Wei Ying looked at him curiously "Why it wasn't with the others?"

"Ah..."

Lan Wangji pushed him softly and stretched backwards to get the plushie.

"I won a bunny plush for you." he said, feeling his ears warming up.

"A bunny plush?!" Wei Ying's eyes widened, visibly excited "I love plushies!"

"I know." Lan Wangji huffed amusedly.

Then, he presented his acquisition.

But instead of squealing with mirth, Wei Ying bit down his lip.

"A bunny plush, Lan Zhan?"

"Yes..."

Wei Ying laughed loudly, falling down to the ground with tears in his eyes and Lan Wangji looked down at the plushie in his hands. It was a big headed bunny with big floppy ears, blue eyes and wearing a cute aviation uniform.

What's wrong with it? Lan Wangji thought it was cute. Very, very cute. He even thought about getting one for himself, but the stress to get one was already too much for him.

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying exclaimed, trying to stop laughing "That's not a bunny! It's cinnamon roll!"

"...Cinnamon roll?"

"You don't know?" Wei Ying stopped laughing to stare at him "He's a Sanrio character, you know. Hello Kitty...?"

"I know Hello Kitty." he paused "Is this not a bunny?"

"Noooo! It's a dog!" Wei Ying laughed again, taking his phone and typing something fast "Look."

A search with the character name was made and it shown: Cinnamoroll, is a white puppy with chubby cheeks and long ears, blue eyes, pink cheeks, and a tail that resembles a cinnamon roll.

"A puppy." he looked at the plushie again in confusion. How is this a puppy?!

"Yeah." Wei Ying chuckled "And it's mine! Don't even think about taking it back just because it's not a bunny!" he mock threatened.

Silently, still confused, he gave the Cinnamonroll to his boyfriend, watching him cuddling the not bunny tightly.

Well. At least Wei Ying is happy.

He can't wait for lunch tomorrow with Wei Ying's parents.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

as per further [will roland in a joe iconis christmas spectacular / extravaganza] investigations, he crops up several times in these clips

1:24 as a belly button puppet show puppeteer, between ewm mister macabee and gerard canonico

the consecutive clips at 1:59 & 2:57 as uncle peenie

the consecutive clip at 3:23 on stage closest to the camera, as no immediately discernible role, which potentially counts as playing himself / “will roland” as cited in the tweet of pre melvin cooterstein roles, and as seems to be others’ role in the show sometimes (playing As Themself)

[mads-weasley]

Hold My Hand: Part One

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Wife!Pilot!Reader

Masterlist

| Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |

A/N: I saw Top Gun: Maverick, and the only thing I can say is that my mind is completely blown. WOW. I don't know if I've seen a better movie, and that's saying something. Also, MILES TELLER WITH A MUSTACHE, WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT, AM I RIGHT? Anyways, this fic was born out of my instant obsession with Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw. I do not own any of these characters except (y/n). Enjoy!

Summary: (Y/n) and Bradley share their last night before the mission together...

Warnings: mentions of death, extreme sadness, slight fluff, idk?

(y/h/c) - your hair color

(y/e/c) - your eye color

italics - flashbacks

"hen" - your callsign

Tomorrow is the day. The day of the mission. The day they could lose everything. As (y/n) and Bradley walked out of the base to their car, silence filled the air. Normally, the couple would rarely shut up while around the other, but they knew the risks involved with the upcoming mission. The life they had built together was now in jeopardy.

Bradley gently intertwined his hand with (Y/n)'s over the middle console of his truck, knowing she needed something to pull her from her thoughts. After being married for two years, he knew how to get her out of her own head.

"Hey, babe, what do you want for dinner? You can choose and I won't even complain," he said with a smirk, turning to look at her briefly.

A small smile of her own painted her face, making his heart flutter. After all the years they'd spent together, she never failed to give him butterflies.

"No complaining?" she laughed, "I'll believe that when I see it, rooster."

His hand flew to his chest, feigning offense, "I promise you, Mrs. Bradshaw. On my pilot's honor."

"Sure, sure."

"What are we having, though? Cause I'm starving."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes as they pulled into their driveway. "You'll just have to wait and see."

With a small whine, he turned to see her getting out of the truck.

"(Y/n/n), come on. I'm serious."

"So am I," she whispered, leaning into the window before entering the house with a smile.

Watching her figure disappear into the house, he couldn't help but think back to the first time he saw her.

Four Years Ago

Walking into The Hard Deck for the first time, Bradley felt nostalgia wash over him. Memories of his dad played in his mind as he walked up to the bar. Wearing his signature Hawaiian shirt and aviators, he almost looked like a tourist.

"Did you lose your tour guide?" a voice said on his right.

He spun towards the voice. "Actually, I'm a-"

When he saw who the voice belonged to, the words got lost in his throat. A (y/h/c) girl in a beachy tank top and shorts, wearing some aviators of her own stood before him with a smirk on her face.

"You alright there, buddy? Cat got your tongue?" She laughed.

"Yes ma'am," he grinned, "It's just- well, you look like a tourist yourself."

A loud laugh escaped her mouth as she stuck her hand out. "(Y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Bradley Bradshaw, but everybody calls me ro-" he started but was interrupted by a shriek of joy calling his new friend's name. Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes lit up at the sight of her old friend. Smiling even wider, she looked over to him, "I'll see you around, Bradshaw."

"See ya."

Watching her figure disappear into the crowd, he ran a hand down his face. 'Oh, I'm in trouble.' He whispered to himself.

The Next Day

"Recruits. Welcome to Top Gun. If you made it here, you're the best of the best. Here, you'll be tested to your limits and shown what you are truly capable of as pilots."

(Y/n) was seated at the back of the small room as the Captain gave them the rundown of the program. Looking around, she could almost smell the testosterone in the air. She was one of two female pilots in the class, so she knew what to expect. What she didn't expect, though, was the handsome mustache guy from the bar to be sitting a few rows in front of her. Things started to make sense in her mind as she connected his slight ego with being a hotshot pilot.

Since their encounter, she couldn't get his stupid smirk out of her mind. She had never been the kind to get caught up on a guy, but something about him intrigued her. 'You can't get distracted,' she told herself and focused back on the Captain's speech.

She sighed in relief, realizing he hadn't seen her at the end of the briefing. As soon as they were dismissed, she bolted out of the room, not staying to talk to anyone.

Walking out of the briefing room, Bradley saw a familiar head of (y/h/c) rush around the corner. He could've sworn it was the girl he met last night, but what were the chances she was here for Top Gun too?

Leaning over to the recruit next to him, callsign "Payback," he asked, "Who's the (y/h/c) who dipped before everyone else?"

He looked around. "It was probably Hen."

"Hen?" Rooster asked incredulously.

"Yeah. It's her callsign. I don't know her personally, but all I know is that she's the best of the best."

Chuckling, Bradley laughed at the chance he had a crush on a girl with the callsign "Hen."

Later that day, the class met up at The Hard Deck. The second Hen walked in, Bradshaw pushed off the wall he had been leaning on, intercepting her at the pool table.

"Hey there, Hen." He smiled cockily.

She returned the smile, "It's Rooster, right Your callsign?"

"Yes ma'am. Rooster and Hen. Isn't that somethin?"

Payback overheard the conversation, laughing loudly. "You know what that means! You two have to get together now!"

With a playful scowl, she turned towards him. "Remember, I can easily shoot you out of the sky, Fitch."

"Very funny, Hen. I can do the same."

Rooster joined the conversation with a laugh. "Can you, though? I've heard she's the best of the best."

Payback's face falls. "Damn it, Rooster."

Gently putting his hand on the small of her back, Bradley ushered them towards the bar, getting two drinks for them. Little did he know, his touch had sent goosebumps across her body.

"So, why Hen?" He asked, looking down into her (y/e/c) eyes.

She raised her eyebrows, taking a sip of beer. "Well, I grew up on a farm, and it was my childhood nickname, so it just stuck. Why Rooster?"

Something flashed in his eyes at the question, but she couldn't decipher what. "My dad was a Navy pilot too. His callsign was Goose. He died in combat when I was really young. I guess Rooster is pretty close to Goose."

"I think it's pretty darn close."

He chuckled slightly. "Look at us. We're practically half a barnyard between the two of us."

Laughter filled the space between them. When it faded out, they were merely a few inches apart, eyes meeting expectantly. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife as both started to lean in slowly. Just as their lips were about to meet, Penny rang the bell behind the counter causing cheers erupting around them. Pulling apart, Rooster smiled, closing his eyes and letting out a huff of air. Opening them, he saw (y/n) was doing the same.

Present Day

(Y/n) was cooking with her AirPods in, so she didn't hear Bradley sneak up on her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, making her jump slightly. Pausing her music, she peered up at him.

"Bradley Bradshaw! Don't you scare me like that!" She scolded him with a smirk.

Kissing her on the temple, he whispered in her ear. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just wanted to hold ya."

Her smile faded. "We need to talk about it. I can't just act like it's not happening."

"I know."

Sighing, he softly grabbed her hand and led her into their bedroom. He sat against the headboard, tucking her close into his side.

"I'm scared, Brad," she sniffed, wiping a few stray tears that streaked down her cheeks.

"Me too." he paused, trying to keep his composure. "I'm not scared of dying. I'm scared of losing you. You're my whole life and I know I couldn't live without you."

The quiver in his voice didn't go unnoticed. She cupped his cheeks gently. "You know I feel the same way. There's no Rooster without his Hen, huh?"

A small smile graced his lips as tears spilled over his waterline. "I love you more than anything, Hen."

"I love you more, Roost."

The couple embraced tightly, sobs escaping both of them. The family they might never start flashed in his mind. The birthday parties and family vacations they might not have.

After a while, they pulled apart, eyes red and puffy, (y/n) breaking the silence. "We're going to make it through this, but if something goes wrong and I don't, I-"

"No. Don't. Don't say that." he pleaded.

The tears made their appearance once again. "I-if something happens to me," he shook his head, refusing to listen to her confession. "I left a letter in the glove compartment of your truck...I pray you never have to open it, but just in case, I wanted you to know."

"You're going to be okay. I'll make sure of it."

"Can you just hold me? I just want to stay right here, right now with you."

Smiling tearfully, he rubbed his hand down her arm. "Always."

She leaned up and kissed him softly, snuggling into his side as he wrapped his arms around her, bringing them as close as possible. Within minutes, (y/n) had fallen asleep on Bradley's chest. He leaned down and kissed her temple.

"I love you, Hen. Goodnight, sweetheart. We're going to be okay."

Part Two

[sarahsmi13s]

Good Pups Get Rewarded

18+ MDNI

jake ‘hangman’ seresin x afab!reader

characters: jake seresin, reader, the dagger squad

warnings: THIS IS SMUT 18+ MDNI, this is pure smut, not cute fluffy with smut thrown in there, SMUT FROM START TO FINISH, switch and dom/sub mechanics, restraints and gags used, pet names, slight pet play (use of the name pup), overstimulation, sub-space, safe colors (green, yellow, red) mentioned and put into play, tears, bathroom sex, the dagger squad is a bunch of pervs, please please please let me know if i missed anything! (ps this is written by a virgin)

word count: 2600 (on the fucking dot baby)

a/n: this is a product of me and a dress and the horner (don’t ask), and glen’s post golden globes workout audio

i want to thank @lovinglyeternal (or @lovingbradshawafterdark) for working with me on this in the chat and @cassiemitchell @startrekfangirl2233 for reading over this and making me blush 

and thank you @startrekfangirl2233 and @roosters-girl​ for assisting with the title

summary: jake’s a switch... (that’s it, that’s all you get)

OKAY MINORS IM SERIOUS TURN AROUND AND WALK YOUR BUTT HOME THIS IS NOT FOR YOU

******************

Jake Seresin is a switch.

You wouldn’t think it, but he is.

Jake’s cocky, arrogant, so full of himself it’s surprising he can fit in his cockpit.

He didn’t know he was a switch until he met you.

You bring that ego right back down to earth with a single glance.

It was his sister’s wedding. You were wearing a satin, forest green dress that had two slits up the side.

You’d swept him away with how easy you were to talk to.

Jake loved your sense of humor and how your chest flamed red when he complimented you.

You had taken his hat at some point in the night and he burned hot with desire watching you dance with it on.

“You know, Darlin’. There’s a rule down here about takin’ a cowboy’s hat,” he said, the natural rasp in his voice becoming more prominent with his accent.

He expected you to blush and giggle, like you had at previous points in the night.

But no.

You turned and pulled him in by his belt, the satin of your dress pressed against his black dress pants.

“I know the rule. Why do you think I took it?”

For the first time in his life, a girl had made him gulp while also giving him the hardest hard on he’s ever had.

“You’ll get your ride, Cowboy. You just have to be patient. Think you can do that?”

Jake was gobsmacked by your authority and managed to utter out a flustered, “Yes, ma’am.” And you smiled at him, “Good.”

That night Jake had the best time of his life.

His patience earned him the ride of a lifetime. He watched you with his tie binding his wrist to the headboard and the satin of your dress brushing his sensitive skin as you rode him with his hat on your head and your tits spilling out of the top of your dress.

*******

Which is how he ended up where he is tonight.

He watched you bend over the pool table in your sundress, your ass barely brushing his already painfully hard cock.

He can’t help the whimper that escapes when the friction disappears.

“You say something, Jakey?” You ask, faux innocence dripping in your tone. He presses himself against you, “Please, I’m dyin’ here, Darlin’. I need-” He cut himself of when you arched a brow at him, he knew he fucked up.

He stumbled to fix himself, pulling away from you and holding your hand. “Ma’am please, I’ve been so good,” he whispers, his tone pleading.

“You know the rules, Baby. You’ll wait like a good boy or I can go home and fuck myself while you stay here until I tell you to come home.” You look him directly in the eye, “It’s your choice pup.”

Jake’s face pinches in annoyance and he grumbles something unintelligible but obviously bratty.

You pulled your hand from his and go to sit your pool stick down, “Okay, if that’s how you want it.”

Jake is quick to protest, “NO DON’T.”

He snaps his mouth shut and looks around at the aviators that glanced his way before clearing his throat.

“I’ll be good. I’ll be so good,” he whispered, desperation clear in his eyes and tone. You sigh and turn back to your pool game, “Alright then. How about we get back to this game of pool and you try not to cum in your pants? Then maybe, you can get a reward.”

He nods, swallowing his whimper before saying, “I’ll try, ma’am.” You nod and then you and Jake continue to play.

****

Jake was losing it.

His jeans were too tight. His brain could only focus on your curves in your dress and the way you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Damn Hangman,” Coyote said, watching how Jake couldn’t pot a single shot he took. “Looks like your girl’s distracting you.” Jake grips his cue as you bend over, the backs of your thighs looking heavenly. “‘M fine.”

His friend raises an eyebrow, but lets it go when you turn around with a triumphant smile. “I win!”

Jake can only give you a crooked smile as he tries not to look at your chest when you bounce on your toes in excitement.

Coyote takes Jake cue, “Let’s do a round of darts. Build that ego back up, buddy.”

Jake tries to relax but his body is vibrating and his mind is starting to cloud over.

He throws his darts as best he can, but he’s either hitting the board low or missing it completely.

“Hey, I was just kidding, earlier. But now I’m worried.” Jake shook his head, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, ‘Yote. I’ll be fine.”

Jake took a breath, glancing over at you and feeling that familiar tingle in his lower back when you smiled at him.

He let out a shaky breath, flexing his hands to release the tension.

“Are you sure-” “It’s fine, trust me. Everything’s under control.”

No it wasn’t.

It was far from undercontrol.

Because the moment he looked back at you and saw your tits bounce as you won another game of 9-ball.

He was gone.

The band in his torso snapped and he groaned lowly as he willed his hips to stay still.

He’d just failed at his only task.

Without saying a word, he left to the bathroom, not looking at you as he passed you. He was embarrassed and felt he let you down.

You passed your cue to Payback and followed your boyfriend to the bathroom, locking the door when you got in there.

You glanced at his jeans when he turned to you from the sink, seeing a spot slightly darker than the dark washed denim.

You cup his jaw, feeling the cold water he had just splashed on his face, “Awe, did pup make a mess?”

He nods, tears glistening in his eyes because he’s disappointed you.

“Oh, Baby,” you gave him a gentle kiss before sinking to your knees. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’ll clean you up. You tried so hard for me.”

He moved to touch you but you backed away. “But you can’t touch, grab the counter.”

Jake nods quickly and does as told.

Once he gets a good grip on the counter, you work his belt and buckle open before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.

You place open mouth kisses to his cum soaked boxer briefs, tasting the salty sweetness through the fabric.

“You taste so good, baby.” Jake whimpers at the complement from above you. “Thank you, ma’am.”

You smiled and finally freed his rehardening cock. “Look at you, pup. Such a pretty dick, even when it’s covered in your cum.” Before he can thank you, you start to lick up what was coating him, making sure to clean anything off his thigh, pubic bone, and balls.

You’re being through and gentle, stroking him as you gather the cum that pooled in his underwear and letting it drip on his shaft before licking it off.

Jake was gasping and moaning above you, lost in the feeling of your mouth and the sounds of content you made before praising his taste and his behavior.

He was so lost that he hadn’t realized his hips were moving on their own as he tried to fuck your face.

As soon as you felt his hips move, you stopped and pulled away from him.

“No, sir. I’m in charge tonight, you know that. I don’t want to punish you because you’ve been so good. But I can’t let it slide, pup.”

Jake whimpers and you can see he’s white knuckling the counter top. “I’m sorry ma’am. It won’t hap-appen again.” You rubbed his thighs, feeling how shaky his legs had become.

“Lay down,” you ordered gently as you stood up.

He gulps, afraid that he did something wrong. “Ma’am?” You pointed to the tile, “Lay. Down.”

Still confused, he does as told and lays down on his back, taking deep breaths to remain calm and not show you how nervous he was becoming.

“Take off your belt for me,” you order again, kneeling beside him.

Now he’s worried. He’s unsure of what your intentions are and while he trusts you, he’s reaching his subspace and he’s nervous because he’s confused. But he also doesn’t want to disappoint you, so he doesn’t say anything and tries his best to do as told.

But you could see how shaky his hands are and that he isn’t looking at you.

You cup his face and coax him to look at you, “Jake? Jakey, look at me pup. Please.” He does and you can see his subspace almost taking him over.

“Pup, what’s your color?”

He gulps, not wanting to say.

“Pup… I need to know.”

He averts his eyes, “Yellow…”

“Okay, talk to me. What do I need to do? What are you feeling?” You asked, running your fingers through his hair.

“I’m… I’m confused, a little nervous,” he managed, now that he knew you weren’t upset.

You nodded, “Okay, I’ll talk you through it. You trust me, right?” He nodded, “Yes ma’am.” You take his belt off yourself and gently grab both his wrist and set them on his stomach.

You place the worn leather on his wrists, “I’m gonna restrain you. Is that okay?” Jake just nods. You shake your head, “Words baby, I need words.” “Yes, you can restrain me.”

Gently, you fasten the belt around his wrists.

Once you’ve done so, you hold his hand. “Color?” “Green,” he breathes out, closing his eyes as he begins to let himself slip back into his subspace.

You slip off your panties as he opens his eyes again, “Open.” He does so, moaning when your scent hits his nose and your taste hits his tongue.

“You’re loud, pup,” you say, staying true to your word that you would explain. You run your finger through his hair again and he follows you, nuzzling into your hand. “We can’t have Rooster hear and come in and see you like this. Can we, pup?” You know the door is locked, but he doesn’t.

He shakes his head and says, “No ma’am.” It’s muffled by the fabric, but you understood him

You kiss his forehead before moving into the 69 position.

Jake can’t touch or taste you, but he has a perfect view of your glistening cunt and he whimpers around the cloth.

You take his cock in your hand and pump him a few times, letting spit drip from your watering mouth and gently blowing air on his tip afterwards.

His strangled moan was heard from behind you and you gripped one of his bound hands. “I got you baby.”

Then you took him into your mouth.

You bobbed your head at a rhythmic pace, reveling in the moans, groans and whimpers coming from your boyfriend.

You’re taking as much of him as you can into your mouth, squeezing your throat by swallowing.

At one point you hum contently and it sends vibrations throughout Jake’s whole body, lighting his nerves on fire.

He’s moaning wildly and you’re certain the squad can hear.

Behind you, Jake has tears running down the sides of his face, his back is arching off the ground and he knows he’s close again.

You do too, so you pull back to catch your breath and Jake whimpers pathetically behind you.

You wipe your mouth, feeling how puffy your lips are, “Just a second, baby. I gotta catch my breath.”

From your position, you can see how tight his balls are and his thighs are shaking as he holds back from releasing on your face.

When you go back in, Jake’s moan causes your panties to slip out of his mouth and his pretty sounds are bouncing off the walls, making you clench your pussy around nothing.

But Jake saw it.

“You’re pussy’s so pretty…” The complement is thick with southern twang as Jake stays lost in his coming orgasm.

You moan around him and you’re certain your slick dripped onto his face.

Finally after a few more head bobs, you feel him twitch. “Can I cum, ma’am? Please can I cum?”

You pull back to answer, “Cum for me, pup.” You take as much of him as you can and feel him cum down your throat.

It’s a lot, and you almost can’t swallow it, but you’re not one to be wasteful.

Under you, Jake is arching off the tile, head thrown back as a primal moan tears itself from his throat.

“Thank you… thank you…” He pants, whimpering again when the warmth of your mouth is gone.

You get off him and kneel beside him, stuffing your panties in your pocket and undoing his restraints.

You move his head into your lap, shushing him and scratching his head, “You did so good. So so good, pup.” You take a moment before standing.

“I’m gonna clean you up and then we’ll get you something okay?” He nods, still dazed, but he barely registers your gone before your back with a warm paper towel and holding his hand.

He still hisses with sensitivity when you get him back into his underwear.

You managed to get you both against the wall so you’re not in the middle of the bathroom floor.

You almost laugh when his six foot stature curls into you, but he’s trembling with adrenaline and you know it’s going to be a while before he’s ready to get up.

Running your nails gently up and down his back, you praised him. “You did so good for me, Jake. I’m so proud of you.” You continue saying sweet nothings and adding forehead kisses as he recovers.

A few minutes in, someone knocks at the door.

“Y’all okay?” It was Bob.

“Hey, Bobby, could you bring us some gatorade and a few snacks?”

On the other side of the door, the squad was not expecting to hear your voice.

“Okay, but why does that-” “Rooster shut the fuck up,” Phoenix said, smacking him on the arm.

Bob rolls his eyes and does as requested.

****

He comes back with snacks, the gatorade, with a straw, and the bathroom key.

He knocked twice before coming in, “Hey, just me. I got the stuff.”

You nodded but continued to hold Jake, cooing praises against his temple.

Bob gives you both a small smile and a nod before going out and locking the door back while placing an ‘out of order’ sign on the door.

It takes about 20 minutes but Jake starts to come back from his subspace, his trembling lessening as he does.

“Hi, Baby,” you smile gently, holding up the gatorade with the straw.

He takes slow, careful sips and eats the snack.

You rubbed his back a bit before coming up to play with his hair, “You did so good, baby. Thank you for communicating and being honest with me. Please don’t ever hesitate to tell me how you’re feeling.” You tilted his head up to look at him.

“I want to make sure you always feel safe. And we’ll talk more about this when you’ve come back to me fully, okay?”

He nodded, swallowing his sip of gatorade, “Yes ma’am.”

You smiled and gave him a kiss, which he chased after when you pulled away. You giggled and gave him another.

****

Once his snack was gone and the gatorade was nearing empty, Jake looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Did you-” You shook your head and shushed him, “That’s not important, pup. We’ll worry about me later.”

**********

hiiiii sorry fot the random smut on a friday but i felt girlboss and wanted to dom the squad and the thought of hangman whimpering for me just sent me on a spiral....

but i hope you enjoyed!

top gun tags <333: @milesdickpic @roosterscockpit @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia @nobody7102 @djs8891 @mayhemmanaged @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233​ @horseshoegirl​ @bobby-r2d2-floyd​ @roosters-girl​

[everythingne-orig]

All Grown Up [Chapter 2]

roos says ! yes the gif is rhett abbot, i know, shhhhh. closed proximity? yes. also, protective bob is a new favorite of mine :)

desc: bob's missed probably more than one big event, a dinner and a thunderstorm seem to tell you God-- or just fate wants you to talk it out.

notable characters: robert "bob" floyd

TWs: desc. of past abuse, narcissism, and gaslighting. cursing, mentions of fighting, threats

ao3 link ! previous chapter ! next chapter

Your plan of horse training fell out of your mind as you stood, watching both Molly Floyd and your sister as they toddled around with the horses. And it especially died when Molly called to your sister, “we should get Robby to ride Fuego when he gets here from the store!”

Shit. You were not ready for this. Not now, not ever.

“Ma, I have some laundry and such to do—“ you call across the field where she stands, watching the girls as they feed Fuego apple treats when he does little tricks you’d taught your sister to do with her. She’s now teaching Molly the same ones. You bite your lip before you speak up again, “Can I run home and do that for a bit before coming back later?”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna run Fuego before it gets hot?” Your mom asks, sending you a look. When you meet her eyes with a bugged-out look in them, she huffs, waving you over. Slumping your shoulders, you make a slow walk to where she stands by the fence because you already know what she’s gonna say. She’ll tell you to talk to Robert, then say how much he’s missed you or something along those lines.

“Talk to Robby.” Your mother murmurs, “lord knows he’s missed ya.”

‘Two for two,’ you think bitterly.

“Ma, it’s been like… nine years since he moved away. And it’s been five years since we last spoke in person. We’ve texted like… once every other month, sometimes even longer, since that thanksgiving party when his mom forced us to talk and gave him my number.” You grumble, looking away so your mother can’t see the genuine upset look in your eyes, “I don’t think there’s any more dynamic duo.”

“Yes, there is, you’re just being stubborn. I don’t know what happened between the two of you before he left, but c’mon. You both were twenty the last time you spoke in person, and it was awkward as hell to watch, now you’re both twenty-five.” she sighs, “Get your head out of your ass.”

“My head is nowhere near my ass, excuse you,” you say, but find you want to be like an ostrich in the sand when a beater Chevy pick-up pulls up to the barn with a low rumble and a crack of its missing cylinder. You want to curl in a ball when the engine shuts off, and the door opens, Molly screaming her brother's name as she slips back through the fence.

“Just look at him—“ your mother whispers, idly smacking your shoulder as she slips through the fence to help her horse— Aster, who got his leg stuck in the feed again. 

He wasn’t actually stuck, he just liked to complain until he got help.

So, against the burning in your stomach, you look to see him. And Robert Floyd has changed, drastically. He’s still wearing the same thin wired aviation-style glasses, he doesn’t really need them for anything other than reading and flying— but he’d told you that fateful thanksgiving when he looked relatively the same in his bulky hoodie and jeans, that he liked to wear them because he’d ‘never forget them that way.’ Which wasn’t true because two days later you were shipping them to a Naval postal office in Nevada. 

His hair is much shorter now, no longer at its beautiful shoulder length. You had loved to run your hands through its slight wave, you also loved to braid it or put it up in little ponytails. His scruff was growing in a bit like he was taking an opportunity to not shave now that he was home for a few weeks, and he had a newly healed scar across his lower jaw that still left some bruising by his ear. But other than that, he was still Robert. (Your Robby, you remember calling him as a kid, when you two were actually ‘married’ with Ring Pops you bought from the gas station at the end of the road.)

But one thing stuck out to you, in the summer heat he wore a thin white tee, and you could see every bit of muscle definition he had in store. Sure, he had always had a bit of muscle, and as a more reserved person you only got to see it when you went swimming or boating with him, but now it almost strained the old shirt.

“Hey Mols, Gennie.” He calls, his voice even having changed, losing a bit of its southern drawl. Then, he turns to where he hears your Mom complaining to Aster behind you and catches your eye. He lets out a low whistle that makes a smile crack across your lips subconsciously.

“You’ve aged like a fine wine,” he calls, a bit of his drawl coming back as if it was magically reborn in his throat.

“So have you.” You reply, throat dry. As much as you want to run into his arms and hug him— then slap him for leaving for so long, you feel rooted in your place. There he is, after years of wishing he would come back, and you feel so stupid because you can’t even muster a single word out of your chapstick-covered lips. (The same lips you want to press to his, you think to yourself bitterly as you scowl.)

You look like a damn idiot, you think after a beat of silence. You find yourself praying to God he doesn’t think the same. He shuffles awkwardly, sparing glances between your eyes and your body, before humming to himself.

"What, uh-- what's..." He drawls, before just stopping himself and sighing, slamming the door shut to his truck like it's personally offended him. 

"I've been fine." You pick up on what he's trying to ask instantly, it's just like he's back in high school trying to start a conversation with someone new again, "I went to college for Equestrian studies, in Savannah, and then I came back home. I live in that little cabin on the property, like a little apartment. My mom and I fixed it up after December."

You didn't need to tell him why December was important, he wasn't there. He’d also never met your ex-boyfriend. Bob would’ve known immediately Mike was gonna be a douche. You wished he’d been there to help you, secretly,

You find it hard to keep your lips shut when he shifts, his arms flexing— and the only thing you can think of is how he’d probably be able to knock Mike out with one hit.

Bob stammers, “What-- uh. What do you do now?"

"I run a horse sanctuary and training facility about a half-hour to the coast. I help do rehab, run events, and do private barrel racing and show lessons for kids." You explain, "I also do equine therapy for kids, we're doing a thing with the Air Force next month for retired veterans. Uhm." You shuffle on your feet, "what about you?"

He leans his arms on the fence, watching as the girls run amuck in the field now, the animals paying them no mind. You remind yourself your next project is making that cow section your mom wanted to use for dairy. Bob talking pulls you out of thought, “That's nicer than what I’m stuck with. I'm a Lieutenant Weapon's System Operator, WSO, with the Navy. I don't fly the plane but I sit in the back and run radars, bombs, and such so the pilot doesn't have to. I just finished an assignment with my squadron at the Naval Air Base in Miramar, at Top Gun. I have to go back for reassignment with them.”

"I don't know what any of that means." You chuckle, moving over to you're on the fence, but a good fifteen or so feet away from him. You knew squadrons, but the knowledge of what a WSO left your brain. Bob always had the military family growing up, not you, so you’d missed out on that knowledge.

"You'll learn," he says like you'll talk to him again after this. Do you want to? You want to tell yourself that you don't, but you know deep down you want to spend every living, breathing moment with Robert Jameson Floyd like you used to. But the silence was washing over you, making everything uncomfortable, so you stand from where you lean and make your way back to the barn, calling over your shoulder as you suddenly find the guts to ride again.

"Welcome home, Floyd."

From behind you, Bob watches you leave, mentally praying he'd never have to see the way you stared at him with some sort of unfinished puppy love in your eyes again. You may have thought it was unrequited, but he knew better. Despite himself, Bob knew he was doing it too. Considering, even with the four different partners he'd taken since leaving home, he'd never gotten over you. You had always been his endgame. Whether he liked it or not, you consumed every moment of his waking thoughts. Every single thing he did, he told himself you'd be proud of. Every single day he lived, breathed, and fought through every shit-filled mission and squadron to survive to see you just once more.

And now that he was just seeing you, it didn't even feel like enough.

He wanted to hold you in his arms, he wanted to kiss you and tuck you to his side and announce you two were finally dating to family, friends, and to his squadron, but who was he kidding? You were no longer as close as you had been, there was no more dynamic duo, no more Bob and Y/n. It was not Bob, Y/n. A pause between you. He'd told himself these three weeks he had in South Carolina were gonna fix everything.

But god, you'd changed.

Either you dyed your hair or spent enough time in the sun to cause it to lighten. Your usual freckles were much deeper now, with a few randomly littered scars to match it. You'd clearly let your hair grow out, considering it fell under your shoulder blades now in two, perfectly done braids-- a new skill as well. He was able to see the distinct changes in your style, new, tighter outfits, and no more makeup to dot your clean skin.

You were stunning, just as you were in high school, but god something felt different. Maybe it had been time, but you looked... better than he remembered from that awkward thanksgiving about five years ago. Even if you'd kept in contact, it was mostly about your younger sisters, family friends, or stupid questions like the color of your cast when you fell out of the tree in his yard and broke your arm. It had been pink the first time, then green, then blue, then white and red because it was almost Christmas. Your mom still had the casts somewhere in your basement, apparently.

He's pulled from his thoughts but the sound of a whinny, turning around to see you lightly stretching atop of your horse he'd only seen maybe three or four times before he'd moved away. He knew it was Fuego, by the dark color of the horse's hair, and he watches as you whistled and clicked in the certain way that sent Fuego tearing along the dirt. She kicked up in puffs as you lead her along a designated path of the right barrel, the left barrel, then the middle one before ripping forward. Molly started cheering, climbing up the fence to get a better look with Genevieve beside her.

"Miss Y/n is so cool!" Molly cheered, waving as you turned Fuego around after her spark ran out and she'd tired. You let her slowly pace back, waving back to Molly once she was in your eyesight, your sister giggling happily as she clapped.

His mom hadn't been kidding when she said you'd gotten really good at barrel racing and other horse-related things. It took everything in him to not say that you were cool, and so so pretty too.

"Miss Y/n's got a big race Friday." Molly informs him, "She's going up against a bunch of people she wants to beat!"

"That's fun," He murmurs, mentally making a note to ask his mom if they should go. Bob, despite being reserved and shy most days, knew you had seen him in every stage of life. Nothing about you made him want to hold back, he wanted to love you, and he hoped-- somehow, you'd see he cared before he had to leave, but he wasn’t sure if that would happen. You had grown since he was gone, and probably had eyes for better guys— like Rooster. Hangman, maybe, if he’d ever get his head out of his ass.

But the squadron had heard his drunken confession of love, and they’d be on their way to his quaint little farm for the biggest fourth of July party in South Carolina— as his mom called it. He had only a few weeks to either make it so you liked him, or to hide you from the squadron.

The time restraint was gonna stress him the fuck out.

...

Your mother had decided to invite Bob and his family over for dinner since your father was still in Jersey helping his brother with his Blueberry harvest as he did every year. the dinner plans were great because you loved his sister and Step-Dad and didn't wanna have more leftovers than you could eat again, but you did not want to see Bob at all. With dirt on your jeans, you stood at the oven, cutting up some turkey for the dinner your mother had prepared.

"Mom!" Genevieve called as soon as your two dogs, a Border Collie named Lieu (for Lieutenant) and a German Shepard named Cappy (for Captain), "The Floyd's are here!"

Your mother turned, setting a dish of shrimp down on the table as an appetizer, considering you both were still cooking, "Let 'em in, hon."

"Is Robby here too?" You asked and your mother nodded, continuing to hum along to Dolly Parton. Turning yourself to the dish in front of you, you continued to cut up the meat without acknowledging the group that had walked in. You knew Bob's family like the back of your hand, the way his mom kicked off her boots at the door, but his Step-Dad, Tom, wore his boots into the kitchen before remembering to take them off every time. His only sibling, Molly, would usually yell 'Daddy! Your boots!' and he'd laugh, saying, 'Thanks, Pumpkin,' before he'd clamber back down the steps to take them off.

"Miss Y/n," Bob's mother, Jenny Floyd-Boseman, said, stepping up to wrap one arm around your shoulder, "This is a beautiful lookin' slice of meat."

"Thanks," you smile softly, "I'm using my Nana's old rub recipe so, I'm kinda hoping my nostalgia didn't make me remember this tasting better than it was."

"This isn't Mikes Nana, right?" Jenny says, stepping back with a wicked look in her eyes. You try to hide your flinch at his name with an easygoing smile.

"Lord no. Asher would kill me if he even thought I was using something from Mike's family." You laugh, Asher was your older brother by only thirteen months, he was currently down in Tennesee running an apple farm with his childhood sweetheart, but he'd be back for the 4th of July party. As would your other younger siblings, twins by the names of Avalon and Gisele.

"Mike was a dirtbag." Tom says, giving you a tight hug, "How're you doing, Mini-Sav?"

He'd always called you Mini-Sav, after your mother Savannah, because you were practically a carbon copy of her. It made you laugh, "I'm doing wonderful Mister Boseman."

"Good." He smiles and plants a kiss on your hairline, before turning to help Molly and Genevieve set plates on the table.

"Need a hand?" A voice calls and you turn to see Bob, chewing on a toothpick idly as he breaks a soft smile across his lips when you make eye contact. You pause, listening to Shania Twain across the speakers in your house. Despite wanting to say no, you feel your mother's burning gaze into your back so you nod, pushing the uncut but of steak towards him.

"Cut it into slices as I have." You explain, "It just makes it easier for the girls to cut."

He nods, and you both work in silence, you humming along to 'You're Still The One' and trying not to think about how desperately you want to kiss the man next to you. He works silently, occasionally pushing his glasses up, and before you know it everything is cut and ready to be set on the table to eat.

You end up taking the head of one side, Bob taking the other as you all idly pass around food and the table is full of dull conversation about neighborhood gossip Savannah and Jenny had heard, or what Molly and Genevieve are doing in their classes. Kenny Chesny fills your ears as you tune it all out for a while, thinking about the certain lessons you need to run tomorrow for training when Tom's tapping the table in front of your to grab your attention.

"Sorry," You flush as you swallow your steak and sit back from your slightly hunched position, "I was in teacher mode."

"That's alright, Love." He laughs, "I was askin' if you ever heard back from Mike's sister, Shannon right?"

"Yeah." You admit, rolling your wrist, the same one your ex had slammed into a gate, taking you out of racing for months, "So, apparently she's in Texas now with Mike. Apparently, their brother's roommate came home from the Navy last night and chewed him out. I think they got into a physical fight over it, Shannon sent me pictures of his nose asking if it was broken. It was crooked so..." You snort, "Jake did a number on him. Better than Dad did."

You see Bob shift, a curious look in his eyes at the mention of Jake. You didn't know if he knew Seresin, but he might've because Jake was also in the Navy.

Your mother smiles, "Jake was an angel the one time Shannon and Chris brought him up here. Do you happen to know him, Robby? Jake Seresin?"

"Yeah, he's Hangman." Bob says like that makes sense to you, "He's the one who saved Rooster and Mav's asses--" You blink at him cursing, which makes him flush, "sorry, lives."

"Those girls have heard worse." Your mother laughs, "I'm glad the Navy's brought you a bit out of your shell."

"Yeah." Bob smiles softly, stabbing his green beans. You pretend to not notice the way he's gotten a bit tense since Mike was brought up.

"I'd beat an abuser too, it's kinda sad Jake beat me to it." Tom jokes, but the way his eyes shift to your wrist and then your shoulder, you know he's not joking. Tom, who'd become your pseudo uncle in the six years you'd known him, had been more upset than your own parents (even though they were livid, Tom was on another level) when you'd finally broke the news of Mike's narcissistic and abusive patterns to them. 

"Wait--" Bob coughs with a certain look in his eyes you can't catch because he's tensing his shoulders which makes the flex-- and god he could kill you with those hands, "Who is Mike? I, sorry, if it's not any of my business it's okay."

"No, you should know." You huff, setting your fork down as you brush a hand through your hair. You don't really wanna tell Bob, but you can tell by the way his gaze is fiery that he'll probably just call Jake and ask if you don't tell him. He always was able to find out all your secrets, even if you'd never spilled a word. Bob knew you better than you knew yourself and if he was this upset you couldn't even imagine how he'd react when you told the full story. Though, that was for another day.

"About two years, I started dating a guy-- Micheal Lees. He was everything I'd wanted, smart, shy, gentle, but still tough and able to stand up for me." You cough when you realize you're describing Bob, "But he started getting just... awful around last May. He was just... ugh, I don't even know how to explain it. He was cheating on me constantly but would gaslight me into thinking it was my fault. I walked on eggshells for eight months until I realized he was stealing from me-- as soon as I knew I told Tom and Jenny."

Bob is practically seething across from you.

"I got out of it in December, which is when I refurbished the cabin in the back to live in. He stole pretty much all my money and possessions, so I got in contact with his sister Shannon and brother Chris. They helped me get back what I could, and we filed a police report and all that together." You sigh, "When I was moving into the cabin, Chris, Shannon, and Jake-- Chris's roommate, drove all my stolen stuff from Texas to here. And, that was... two months ago? Jake had to leave early though because he had a deployment in California. And that's really it."

The table falls silent for a few moments, the only sound being people's forks moving on the plates and drinks being picked up and set down before Bob takes a deep breath.

"If I ever see Mike, I'll fucking kill him." He grits out and you nearly choke at either the growl in his voice or at the genuine sincerity behind the threat. You'd always been the assertive and aggressive one growing up, but there was sweet little bookworm and volunteer Bob, who'd catch spiders and flies in cups to let them out outside, saying he'd genuinely kill someone. 

Molly spilling her water takes the moment away though. You stand to grab paper towels as you shake off the feeling of dread in your gut. As you bring the paper towels to Molly, letting her help you clean up her mess, you catch Bob's eye. He's watching you, his mother murmuring something to him (probably part of the story you hadn't told), and for once you feel tiny in his baby-eyed gaze.

...

After dinner, Jenny insists on cleaning up with Tom, so you're left to your devices. You decide since you can hear thunder in the distance, to go lock up the barn. You get the goats and cows in pretty easy using Lieu as a herding dog-- which she was bred to do. You work her, watching as she gets the cows in with a little bit of a fight until lightning begins flickering across the clouds.

"C'mon, Lieu!" You shout, whistling as she finally nips the last calf to get her in the barn. You lock the door, leaning to the side to pull it shut as you drop some feed in as a makeshift treat for the cows as thanks for getting in with as little trouble as possible. The horses go in easy enough, but you notice, as you guide Lieu back to the house along a wooded trail that some of the chickens are still out. You huff, walking to their little pen when you see Cappy run straight past you-- the Shepard snarling as he chases something away.

"Captain!" Bob shouts, huffing as he runs up beside you. You laugh softly at his exasperated expression, surprised he'd been able to keep up with the dog for so long. It was a decently long run from your house to the chicken coop.

"Captain'll take care of the chickens." You inform him, leaning over to ring the bell that informed the chickens to come back to the coop.

"She was chasing a coyote, that's what I'm worried about." He stays, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. You huff, letting out a low whistle for a long moment before clicking-- a similar call to what you'd done to Fuego earlier. You're still ringing the bell as you count the chickens. Eventually, Captain does come back, nudging a few chicks along with her nose. 

"See?" You tease Bob, trying to push past the awkward feeling in your gut, "Told ya she'd be fine."

He laughs, wiping beading sweat from his forehead as you help Captain get the rest of the chicks into the coop. As you lock the gate, you give both Captain and Lieu treats, letting them annoy Bob for ones he doesn't have. He laughs at them, giving them both kisses on the head instead, which they accept, as they start to march away. You cross your arms, feeling the air beginning to cool as a breeze whips the trees. You look up, dark clouds beginning to cover the sky above you, and that's when it starts to pour. You curse, whistling for Lieu and Captain as you grab Bob's sleeve, trying to run to the house which is a half acre away.

"It's too far!" He shouts, pulling you back. You slip on the newly accumulating mud and he manages to catch you, his glasses falling off in the process. You drop down, grabbing them as you spin.

"The barn!" You shout instead, it was much closer, but still a bit of a run, and you both look at each other before taking off for the barn after a beat. He manages to keep up with you-- better than he used to, and Captain and Lieu keep at your heels and you run. It takes the both of you to slam the door open and shut against the wind, but once everyone's inside and accounted for you huff, handing Bob back his glasses with a soft sorry as you pull your phone out to text your mom and tell her you'd both taken shelter in the barn and would probably wait out the storm since it was supposed to only be an hour or so long.

Then, you realize, the barn is full of animals except for Bob. Now you wished you'd run back to the house instead of coming here.

[princessmisery666]

Lucky - Part 5.9 Under The Radar Mini Series (end)

Summary: It’s Maverick’s retirement and the gangs all back together, and it makes Jake realize just how lucky he is to have you. 

Warnings: fluff, pure fluff. 

W/C: 1.4k

Characters: Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, fem!reader (You. Call sign: Huntress). Mentioned/Small Parts: Lieutenant Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Penny Benjamin, Lieutenant Javy "Coyote" Machado, Captain Phil “Maverick” Mitchell, Lieutenant Robert "Bob" Floyd, Lieutenant Reuben "Payback" Fitch, Lieutenant Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia.

Pairing: Hangman x Fem!Reader, (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

A/N: You can thank @justagirlinafandomworld for this whole part, I knew how I wanted it to end but couldn’t figure out the logistics of it, then Yvette reblogged this with the awesome tags and it got the muses flowing. 

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch

Graphics: made by me // @writercole made the dividers. Pic credit

Series Master Lists: Parts 1 -5 // Drabbles & one-shots

Special shoutout: This is the end, so one last time a massive thank you to @sfreeborn for giving the initial prompt that was the first spark to ignite this inferno, @writercole this would not have been possible without you, @deanwinchesterswitch for being a wonderful beta and fitting me into your busy schedule 😍 without further ado…

Lucky

Jake went home for a few days to see his parents. Since he’s been back, he’s been acting strange - a little jumpy, on edge, like he’s waiting for something to happen. His father didn’t outright disapprove of his decision to stick around Top Gun because of you, but he didn’t show any support either. You assume the strange behavior is residual stress from spending time with his father. You thought he would shake it off in a couple of days.

Only he’s been back for almost a week and has been overly attached to his leather aviator jacket. It’s Jake’s lucky jacket. You know it is; he’s told you the stories. It holds sentimental value and, bonus points, he looks smoking hot in it. His words, not yours, though you readily agree. But he’s worn it everywhere, doesn’t take it off unless you're at home, it’s as if it’s a life jacket, and he expects removing it will suddenly make him drown.

You’ve watched him tuck it away in the closet each night for the past four days, patting it down as if checking for something or he’s suddenly developed an OCD tick. It’s no surprise that he wears it to the Hard Deck to celebrate Maverick’s retirement.

And yes, he looks obscenely hot in it, with a simple gray henley underneath, but he also looks extremely hot in the crowded bar. You had already suggested he take it off, and though Penny is taking the night off, she offered to put it in the back, so no one steals or spills anything on it. 

“It’s fine,” he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and he looks nervous. “I’m fine,” he assures you when you give him a pointed look. He places a kiss in your hair and insists he’s good, pulling you closer to him to allow some other patrons to pass.

The Hard Deck gets a little too crowded, so the party moves outside onto the beach as the sun sets. Which Hangman is thankful for because he swears he’s about to burst into flames from overheating. The breeze off the ocean cools him down to a comfortable level again. 

Rooster and Fanboy are being idiots, starting a wrestling match, and it’s only a matter of minutes before one of them takes it too far. You, Jake, Phoenix, Bob, Coyote, Maverick, Penny, Hondu, and Payback create a semi-circle to block them from falling into the fire pit and encourage them, hedging bets as to who will end up on their ass first.

Jake remains quiet. He just watches, sipping his beer, not rooting for either of them. His mind is too occupied, and whereas watching either Rooster or Fanboy get a faceful of sand would have entertained him before, he’s got too much going on to fully enjoy it.

He sees you check your watch and give him a concerned half-smile. “You okay?” you ask quietly. 

“Perfect,” he says, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you under his shoulder. It’s only partly a lie, he’s nervous and stressed, but he can’t tell you that without making you question him further.

As the wrestling steps up a notch, you straighten up and yell with a gleeful smile, “Get him, Fanboy, get him!” 

Fanboy makes a grab for Rooster’s leg, who hops back out of reach but loses his balance, twisting to catch himself on your shoulders, knocking your glass of red wine all over your white shirt.

The shock makes you gasp, and as the liquid soaks in, Rooster remains pressed against you, too worried to step back to assess the damage.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, clearly trying to suppress his laughter.

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head, “you’re so paying for the dry cleaning.”

Rooster slowly peels himself away from you, and his yellow Hawaiian print shirt has a small patch of red, whereas your shirt is now pink. You pull the wet garment away from your skin. 

“Jake, baby, give me your shirt,” you coo, batting your eyelashes at him.

He moves on autopilot, handing his beer to Coyote, slipping off his jacket, and trapping it between his knees to save it from the sand. He slips the jacket back over his shoulders, handing you his shirt, and he doesn’t fully process what you’ve asked him to do until he watches you whip off your shirt and replace it with his Henley. 

You toss your ruined shirt at Rooster. “Dry cleaned,” you demand, “before you leave.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rooster salutes.

“How come all she has to do is ask, and she gets whatever she wants?” Payback teases.

Jake’s too busy staring at you in his Henley to realize the question is meant for him till Payback barks his name.

“What’re you talking about?” Jake retorts, reluctantly pulling his gaze from you to look at the other pilot over the top of the fire.

“Dude, for the last few days we’ve all been here, it’s been ‘Jake get me a beer’ and ‘Jake give me your shirt’, and you haven’t batted an eye,” Fanboy adds, the rest of the team muttering in agreement.

“It’s not just the last few days,” Coyote adds, laughing. “It’s months, man. He bought her a house, lets her drive his car, and didn’t even raise his voice when she scuffed his alloys.” 

“Shut up,” you chuckle, pointing a finger at Coyote. He’s already teased Jake about this particular subject to no end.

“Awww, and now you’re standing up for him,” Coyote jests with a smirk, “damn, he’s pussy whipped if he needs you to fight his battles.”

“He doesn’t need me to do anything,” you counter. 

The old Hangman’s cockiness comes into play, and he smirks, “I can’t help it if I know how to keep my woman happy.” 

Fanboy, Rooster, and Payback fake cough, “pussy whipped!” 

“At least he’s got someone,” Bob snaps, “I don’t see anyone lining up to ride you three.”

The team is in shock for seconds before the chorus of contagious laughter starts filling the air with a litany of voices.

The laughter continues while the teasing switches to Bob and Jake watches you - bathed in the light of the bonfire, your head tipped back, eyes crinkled at the corners sparkling with genuine laughter, wearing his shirt. You’ve never looked so beautiful. It’s enchanting, and not for the first time, he wonders how he got so lucky. 

You must feel his eyes on you because you turn to face him, and just as your expression softens, he finds the words he’s been struggling with for days.

“Marry me,” he blurts out, perhaps a little too loud to make sure you can hear him over Bob’s ribbing.

Everyone freezes and the laughter cuts off. Your mouth hangs open slightly, and he can see your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

He quickly digs in his jacket pocket, pulling out a simple, elegant diamond ring and dropping to one knee in the sand. “Marry me?” he repeats as a question this time. Your shocked silence prevails, and he rambles, “I didn’t go home last week; I went to your parents to ask your dad for permission. I’ve been wearing this jacket for days now, my grandfather wore it to propose to my grandmother, and my dad wore it to ask my mom, and I’ve just been waiting for the right moment, but I swear I’m close to dying from heat exhaustion and I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Jake,” you sigh, but emotion catches in your throat, tears pool in your eyes, and you're speechless again.

He’s not sure if they are tears of joy, pure shock, or pity, but regardless he’s not done talking. “You're it for me, Y/N. I’ve known it from the moment you broke my nose on this very beach. I love you, Y/N Y/L/N, and I want to start our future together. But I can wait if you're not ready, I will wait. So if it's a no, I’m fine with that, but I'm really hoping it's a yes. Will you marry me?”

He holds his breath, feeling every set of eyes on him, and for once, it’s attention he doesn’t want. The edges of his vision seem to blackout, and all he sees is you, firelight dancing on your cheek, making your tear tracks glow.

Quicker than he can blink, you launch yourself at him. He doesn’t expect it, so when you crash into him, he ends up flat on his back, with you lying on top of him, kissing him, hard and passionately.

“Is that a yes?” Bob whispers to Phoenix.

But it’s Rooster who happily replies, “I'm pretty sure that's a hell yes.”

I'm so sad to say goodbye to these guys 🥺😭 but I hope you enjoyed it, thank you for the support.

There is a flangsty Rooster fic in the making 😍😍😍

Master Lists: Main // Under The Radar - Parts 1 -5 // Drabbles & one-shots

[ladyelizabethraven]

So while waiting for chapter 73, I'm thinking about the parallelism in the special illustration, 71.5. While of course these can just be coincidences, but I'm left with wondering if these will be the main players the future conflicts ahead?

1. TWILIGHT X YURI (the Operatives) - in the story, the two have quite similar roles in their respective organizations: they're the ones who move around the city and make things happen. Also, imo, these two have the most potential in getting their beliefs and worldviews challenged. But still, it's interesting that the person in the forefront of the Ostanian group is Yuri and not Yor despite the fact that the Shopkeeper is in the illustration. (And the fact that almost everybody is looking forward to a "Mr. And Mrs. Smith scenario).

2. SYLVIA X SHOPKEEPER (the Orchestrators) - they're the ones who "move the chess pieces around". While yes as of this time, the Garden has nothing to do with the SSS, both acts as the visible representation to the invisible powers in this story. Sylvia is for the side of WISE while the Shopkeeper is on the side of the Garden. But why not a head director of the SSS instead? The old guy that's wearing aviators? Maybe because the SSS is not exactly equals with WISE? Or maybe the SSS is an open secret while WISE and Garden actually has several layers of secrets hiding underneath?

3. NIGHTFALL X DONOVAN DESMOND (the Obscured ones?) - OK, I admit that I'm probably grasping at straws with this one. While it's probably a no brainer that Donovan is in this photo, it's actually surprising that Fiona gets included in the special illustration in the first place. Why? Just because she's part of WISE and we need another character to balance this photo? Maybe. But what I noticed that these are the two characters that are hiding something : Donovan, his hands ; while Nightfall her right eye. Both characters also have hidden goals or motives not known by Twilight. I wonder if Endo has further plans for Nightfall's character other than being foil to Yor's wife role?

[roostersmustache]

The Hard Deck IV. (Sneak Peek)

Pairing: Rooster x O.C. Bisexual Female Character

Author's Note: I started this one early because all of the love I've been getting for 'The Hard Deck' has really fueled my desire to write again! So thank you to everyone who reads and enjoys, it truly means a lot <3. I'm writing this chapter with acrylics on so if there are errors, that is why and let me know. This isn't the first or last installment of this fic! Make sure you check out the first three parts! Also, some of the dialogue of the movie might be off! Sorry I tried my best!!

Synopsis: In which Charley really can't stop thinking about Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw after seeing him play dogfight football on the beach.

Warnings: Mentions of an age gap, swearing, sexual tension, SMUT 18+ Minors DNI!, mentions of an abusive relationship, possible TGM spoilers, and really sexy aviators shirtless on the beach playing football.

Word Count: 8.5k (I got wayyyy carried away lol)

Masterlist

Part One Part Two Part Three

Currently Bradley was chasing her around the beach because she had playfully taken the sunglasses he had worn just to spite him. She was laughing and he was yelling after her. She didn't win, however, because next thing she knows Bradley is picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. She shrieked at him and began hitting his back.

"Bradley I swear to god put me down," she said.

"Unfortunately, I cannot do that," he said. "Those guilty of stealing must be thrown overboard."

"Very funny, Bradshaw. Now put me down."

He just ignored her and continued walking towards the ocean.

"Bradley please don't throw me in the water. Bradley. Bradley. Bradley!"

But it was no use because next thing she knew she was being thrown into the ocean. She came up sputtering and coughing up water, a glare on her face as she gazed at the pilot who was laughing at her.

"That was not funny," she said, walking up to him.

"Now I'm all wet. And my hair is wet. And I hate when my hair is wet."

"What do you do when you shower then?" He asked, still laughing.

"That's completely different."

"So," He said, looking down at her. "Where do you want to go eat?"

"You really think I want to go out with you after that?"

"I do," he said, shrugging.

"I can't even put my clothes on anymore because they'll just get wet."

"Sounds rough," he said, smirking at her. She just groaned before trying to lunge at him herself, but it didn't do anything. He just laughed as her hands hit his chest, trying to push him. It didn't work. Charley grunted in defeat.

"Fine, Bradshaw," she said, crossing her arms. "Yes, I still want to go out with you. I just genuinely don't have clothes to wear anymore because of the stunt you just pulled. I have my shorts, that's about it."

"What about your cute little white top thing?" He asked.

"Yeah that things drenched because my dad mistook it for his towel earlier." Rooster laughed.

"That's okay, baby. I have a shirt you can borrow in the car."

"That's not very appropriate for a dinner date is it not?"

"Charley when I said I wanted to take you out to dinner, I meant I want to take you to my favorite place in this town. I grew up going there, they have the best burgers, and believe me, they don't care what you wear."

"Honestly that sounds better than some five star high class restaurant anyways."

"See? That's what I'm saying. Don't get confused though, I will be taking you to a nice fancy dinner one of these days, but not tonight."

"Lead the way then, Lieutenant."

~~

The Hard Deck IV. Coming Monday, July 18th at 12:00pm EST Time

[shih-coulda-had-it]

Series/film ask, BHNA, and I want your opinion on everyone's fashion sense. ✨

the ask game in question

because i have the fashion sense of a shut-in, i'm actually 80% affectionate of horikoshi's design choices. my least favorite include mineta and a lot of the female pro-heroes outfits (creati, midnight, bubble girl, mirko) because... i can't stop myself from thinking about tiddy physics.

let's see if i can structure this around my favorite characters

casual wear/civilian clothes

nana: LOVE THEM. i can see myself wearing them, and also her half up-do is iconic. the overcoat? the scarf? mom jeans? yes yes yes.

torino: prime torino's black turtleneck short sleeve shirt is very sexy. i know in my heart he's a leather jacket with fleece collar guy, because he's cool. as old torino, i'm a big fan of his button-up, jeans, and cowboy boots with the flames, and i love his belt buckle because it's easy to make fun of it.

all might: his fashion sense is impeccable. leave his banana-yellow pinstripe suit alone!!! his cargo pants have many pockets and are thus useful!!! my current favorite items of his include the aviators of Cool Might, the letterman jacket of Young Might, and his winter overcoat.

hero gear

nana: 8/10. jumpsuit shows off her arms, which is very sexy. billowing white cape with the red skirt-thing to contrast, also sexy. yellow gloves like torino? yes. -1 for continuing to confuse me about the jumpsuit palette, and another -1 for the continuity error in vestigeland, when horikoshi inked in sleeves.

torino: 10/10. iconic. easy to draw from memory. tubby gloves and tubby boots are adorable. he has a G for belt buckle like fashion designer Hermes has an H. there are green buttons for some reason? canonically his jumpsuit's neckline is probably below the cape collar, but i like to hike it up for repressed reasons. i'd like to add that him wearing a domino mask that may or may not have opaque lenses makes him a classic comic book hero.

all might: ??/10. he has so many iterations! and all of them are so fiddly with design that i both love and hate. why doesn't he wear gloves? why are all his jumpsuits vacuum-sealed to his muscles? his belt buckle is designed to have his eyebrows/bangs + the eye shadows, and i think that's lovely.

special shout-outs

en's high collar jacket that makes me think his hero name was smokestack

afo's popped collar overcoat that is so dramatic but indicative that he's a Bad Guy

izuku's shirts that keep having silly names written on the front

hawks' wristwatch fashion ad

lady nagant's "bitch i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me" dress during her fight with izuku

[mandoalorian]

Pain Is For The Living [Javier Peña x F!Reader] - Chapter 1 (SMUT)

Summary: Sex work in the heat of 1980’s Colombia was never going to be a walk in the park. Especially not when you had a crush on your number one client, agent Javier Peña. You’d been warned about him and his reputation, but after one very specific incident that would change your life forever, you find yourself attached to him like never before and you’d do anything to make him yours. Even if it means endangering your own life.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT (male receiving oral), allusions to sex, reader works in a brothel, PTSD, anxiety, panic attack, mention of drugs, guns, character death, typical Narcos themes.

Word count: 4000>

Series Masterlist

*reblogs appreciated! Ko-Fi in bio if you want to support me!

It was the hottest summer in twenty years; or at least that’s what the weather lady had told you when you were getting ready for work this morning. 

You’d been searching for your best friend Rosa all over the brothel, asking your colleagues if they’d seen her anywhere. They all shook their heads or shrugged their shoulders before disregarding your presence completely so they could get back to their conversations. You understood their cold nature to a degree. You were new and fresh-faced in Bogotá, and this sex work was the only thing paying your rent. Sometimes you got the feeling they didn’t like you, but you did your best to shrug it off. The manner of your job wasn’t an easy one, that’s for sure. But Rosa had been with you from day one. Not only was she your only friend, but also, she was a mentor, and she taught you everything you needed to know about being a successful sex worker in the heat of Colombia.

You finally found Rosa outside the brothel, leaning against the brick wall, her sunglasses perched on the curve of her nose. Immediately something felt off. You couldn’t put your finger one what exactly it was, but everything about Rosa’s demeanor concerned you. The cigarette that she held between her fingers was almost completely puffed out, with just a noticeable pink lipstick stain on the foot of the filter paper. You stood next to her and leaned against the same wall, by her side. You noticed her shoulders relax a little at your presence, but Rosa still didn’t say a word. It was strange. She was usually bubbly and talkative, eager to tell you all the gossip she had learned from her clients. 

“Peppermint for your thoughts?” you asked Rosa, diving into your pocket and bringing out a carton of peppermint candies. As you waited for her response, you placed one on your tongue and sucked on it longingly. You’d been working long hours and it was the first thing you’d eaten all day.

“In a minute,” she said, dismissing the sweet and wiggling her finger in the air. She huffed and narrowed her eyes, watching the busy roads intently before taking one final drag off the cigarette. She stumped the end out and threw it away, but the cigarette that was once in between her lips was now replaced with her thumb as she nervously bit at her nails. “Has Limón  come by today?” she asked you eventually.

You knew the cab driver. He’d frequented the brothel a number of times. Rosa often had a lot to say about him until suddenly, she just didn’t.

“Not that I know of,” you replied innocently, but something still felt so incredibly wrong. “Rosa, is everything okay?”

Rosa’s head snapped to face you, and for the first time you noticed the fear strike in her honey coloured eyes. She sighed and pursed her lips together, before raising her hand and cupping your face. Her thumb grazed the height of your cheekbone and she finally smiled. But it wasn’t like her usual smile. It was soft and— sad.

“Of course,” she told you. “Nothing to worry about.”

And you knew better than to push Rosa, so you decided to leave it at that.

Silence with Rosa was comfortable. You both observed the bustling streets of Bogotá. You were thinking about the simpler things in life, like whether or not you could afford the luxury of canned spaghetti hoops in advance of this month’s rent payment, or where in the brothel you’d left your signature lipstick. Rosa, on the other hand…

“He’s an agent you know.” She announced suddenly.

You furrowed your eyebrows together. “Who? Limón?”

Rosa let out a bark of incredulous laughter, and you assumed as such. “No no, not Limón. I’m talking about Peña.”

You felt your cheeks warm up at the initial mention of his name, and you tried to fight back a smile. You had to keep cool in front of Rosa. Sure, the whole brothel knew about your crush on your client but only Rosa’s opinion mattered to you. “Javier?” you quizzed, as if you needed to question who Peña could possibly be.

Rosa rolled her eyes playfully and you stifled a laugh, realising how silly you sounded. “You’ve got it bad huh?” Rosa acknowledged and you felt a flush of shame creep upon your cheeks. “It’s okay. When I first started out I had countless crushes on my clients.” she confessed, and her revelation made you feel somewhat better about yourself.

“How do you know that… about Javier?” you wondered out loud, biting your lip and trying to sound as casual as possible. You’re the girl he’d been fucking with for the past two months and he hadn’t dared open up to you about a single personal detail in his life. Truth be told, that’s what made him different from the other guys. So if anyone was to know anything about the man, it should be you. Why wasn’t it you? You couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy that your beautiful best friend was seemingly omniscient. “Have… have you been sleeping with him?”

Rosa frowned apologetically and smoothed out your hair. “No honey. I wouldn’t do that to you,” she promised and you nodded your head slowly. You had no reason not to believe her but she still hadn’t answered your question. Just as you went to prod her further, she opened her mouth. “But be careful. Crushes on clients can be dangerous. You never really know who you’re working with. Javier has a… reputation amongst the brothels in Bogotá.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat… a lump that you didn’t even realise you were holding back. “He seems nice. Respectful.” you admitted with a slight shrug of your shoulders. You’d be foolish to dismiss a word of advice from Rosa, but warning you about Javier…? You knew him better than that. You knew him. You had every inch of his body memorised. You could spot his scent from a mile away. You knew he was a good guy.

Rosa hummed slightly before squinting at an oncoming truck that was pulling up outside the brothel. “Speak of the devil.” She muttered.

“Javier!” you couldn’t help but beam excitedly. You quickly turned to face Rosa. “Could I borrow your lipstick? I lost mine and I-” Out of nowhere, Rosa pulled out her pink lipstick and passed it to you. You took it willingly and gave her a quick hug of gratitude. “Thank you.” you mumbled into her neck before pulling away. 

“Be careful!” Rosa called after you as you ran back inside the brothel and into the lobby where you’d wait for Javier.

Be careful. You chuckled a little at her words. You had nothing to worry about. You quickly applied your lipstick with as much precision as possible and checked your hair in one of the many mirrors. Your heart rate picked up speed the second you saw him enter the lobby. Today, he was wearing one of his trademark colourful button down shirts - this one, a pale yellow colour that was comparable to the sunshine. He was frowning, just like always, but the bright colour on him radiated an air of enlightenment.

He looked around the lobby in search of you, and when his eyes finally landed on you, he immediately felt at ease. You waved him over with a smirk and he took off his aviators, hanging them in the v of his shirt. His eyes were beautiful, like the deepest shade of cocoa. You made an unfortunate habit of getting lost in them at any given moment.

“Hi Javi,” you cooed, placing the palm of your hand on his chest. “You’re early today.”

“I can’t stay long,” he grumbled. “Have to get back to the office. Can we make it quick?”

You tilted your head curiously. “What do you have in mind?”

Javier brought out his wallet and handed you enough peso’s to cover an easy blowjob. He looked up at you, hopefully, with an adorable sheepish grin on his face. You took the money from him and nodded your head before taking his hand and guiding him to your room.

It was the room he’d grown completely accustomed to the past few months. He knew his way around. He was comfortable. He closed the door behind him and immediately worked at undoing his belt. You glanced over at his payment that you’d discarded on your dresser and thought long and hard. You really liked Javier. Enough so that you felt weird about taking his money. He was different to the other guys. You fucked men because they were paying you, but you fucked Javier because you liked it. You wanted it. Every second he wasn’t with you… you only craved him more.

Too lost in your own thought, you’d forgotten the man of your dreams was standing by the door waiting to get sucked off. He cleared his throat awkwardly and your head snapped in his direction to face him, your eyes going comically wide. You felt embarrassed that you’d left him waiting and quickly paced over to him, kneeling down and unzipping his denim jeans. He was already hard, judging by the familiar shaped imprint against his thigh.

“Everything okay?” he hummed as you pulled out his cock. His question turned into a slight garble as soon as your fingers graced his leaking head. You gathered his precum and rubbed it along his thick length and his eyes immediately snapped shut.

“Yes. Why?” you asked innocently before pressing a kiss to his slit. You looked up at him through your eyelashes with wide doe-eyes.

“Looked like something was preying on your mind.” Javier muttered, scrunching his face up in pleasure as you licked a stripe along the base of his cock. You extended your hand to massage his balls and you continued to pump at his length.

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” You beckoned further. “To let go?”

“Fuck,” Javier hissed. “More.” he pleaded and you quickly obeyed, wrapping your lips around his head and pushing his cock deep into your mouth. You felt his body tense up and he threw his head back against the wooden door. “More!” he choked out.

You hollowed your cheeks and sank your lips as far as you could go, so his groomed pubic hair tickled the tip of your nose. Tears began to prick your eyes and you pulled off him quickly to gasp for breath. Javier was heaving and panting too, and you took a second to look up at him and lick your lips. He was so perfect, a thin sheen of sweat glistened along his collarbones, only just noticeable under the dim amber lights of your room. Before he could catch you staring like a hopeless lovebird, you reattached your lips around his cock and finished up the blowjob, feeling more than satisfied when his ropes of cum spilled into your mouth.

Once his cock softened enough to tuck himself back in, he zipped up his jeans and redone his belt but not before helping you stand. Meeting respectful guys like Javier Peña in your line of work was a rarity, that’s for sure. Still you couldn’t help but think about Rosa’s words as you watched him smooth out his shirt. No visible police badge. No signs that he was an agent. To say it irked you was an understatement. How did she know he was an agent? There wasn’t a chance he told her… not when he was so secretive with you. You’d been fucking him for two months now and you didn’t know a single detail about his life. You didn’t know where he lived, or how old he was, or if he had any siblings. Rosa might have been your best friend, and she swore to you that she wasn’t sleeping with him on the side, so how did she know?

Of course, it could’ve easily all been bullshit. She could’ve been scheming a way to get you to fall out of love with him. Nobody likes a cop. You couldn’t figure it out no matter how hard you tried, but you knew for sure Rosa would never want to hurt you. You were annoyed for letting yourself get so irrational. You just wished… you wished that he’d talk to you. Treat you more than just some whore he got to use at his own beck and call. Your stomach twisted when you realised that was exactly all you were. A fool facing the wrath of unrequited love. You sighed and grabbed his jacket from the bed.

“Thank you,” he said, taking his jacket and swinging it over his strong forearm. It was too hot outside to wear. You nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t say anything.

For the first time since meeting Javier Peña, you had let yourself get hurt, and for no good reason either. You couldn’t confront him about it. You couldn’t tell him no matter how much he asked you. You just had to suck it up and get over him. He was a client and that was all he could be. Nothing more. Rosa was right. Falling for your customers was a dangerous deal.

“You’re my favourite, you know.” Javier announced, his voice low and heated. You locked your eyes on his. 

“What?” you asked, completely taken aback. 

“You’re my favourite girl,” he clarified with a small shrug, as if his comment wasn’t life-changing. Just like that, you were once again putty in Javier Peña’s hands. Your determination to get over him lasted all of five seconds. Before you could reply, he took a step closer to you, breaking any distance and placed a hand on your cheek. He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin noticeably longer than usual.

You weren’t mad anymore. Your feelings for him were restored just like that. Your eyes were wide as he pulled away from you and licked his lower lip. You felt like you were melting over the sweet menial gesture. You wanted to say something - anything. You wanted to pull him on top of you and crash your lips against his. But no matter how hard you tried to say something, no words came out. All you could manage was a shy little smile. It was the same smile that made Javier’s knees weak. He squeezed his hand into a fist to resist the urge of kissing your perfect lips and instead readjusted his sunglasses. You ducked your head down shyly and opened the door for him.

“Stay safe.” he uttered.

The same two words he told you after every visit. Stay safe. It was almost as if your client had a genuine care for you. You nodded in affirmation and offered him one last smile before he left the brothel and headed back to ‘the office’. Do agents even work in offices? You wondered.

You paced around the corridors of the brothel to find Rosa, wanting to return her lipstick and also tell her about Javier. You were excited. He really said you were his favourite girl. Out of all the girls, you were his favourite. To say you were beaming was an understatement. 

You caught her speaking to Javier as he walked out the brothel front door and you felt an anxious knot in your stomach tighten. It was hard to make out from the distance, but by the looks of it, Rosa was crying. The conversation was only brief, and Javier nodded along to whatever she was saying, before handing her a card and leaving for good. You officially had questions. You went to push through the crowds of people but a man much taller and larger than you placed a hand on your shoulder and pushed you back.

“Whoa,” you stumbled. “Can I help you?” He made some crude gesture with his fingers indicating the type of sex he wanted with you and you couldn’t help but scrunch up your nose in disdain. “Yeah okay,” you agreed with a small sigh. “Just a second though, I have to find someone. My room is 20 if you would like to wait for me--”

“No,” he growled, pinning you against the wall. “Now.”

You glanced behind his shoulder searching for Rosa but she had evidently already disappeared. 

“Okay.” you huffed, pulling yourself out of his grip and leading him to your room. You supposed you could tell Rosa about Javier after you’d dealt with this guy.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He’d left about ten minutes ago, and you were just finishing up in your room, getting ready to clock out of work and call it a day. The brothel lobby was often loud and bubbly, but the second you heard all the muffled chatter stop, you knew something was up. You pulled your purse over your shoulders and locked your room before walking down the corridor. As you approached the lobby, you heard loud footsteps and yelling. The second you stepped foot in the main room, you saw the man Rosa had been asking you about earlier in the day, and your heart sank.

“Where the fuck is she?” Limón shouted. He and another man paced around in circles. It had gone quiet because the men had the other girls, your colleagues, pressed against the wall, holding guns to their heads. Your eyes widened in horror and you immediately brought your hands up in the air to surrender.

“Are none of you whores talking? Where the fuck is she?” the other man hissed. 

“La Quica,” — so that was his name — “Shut the fuck up. You’ll draw unwanted attention.”

They hadn’t noticed you yet. There was still time to escape. But your feet were frozen to the ground. How could you dare run away and leave the girls here, unable to fend for themselves?

Limón pressed the handgun to Martzia’s head. “Where is she?” he spat.

“Who?” Martzia gasped.

“Rosa!” Limón bellowed, clocking the gun in anger. “Where the fuck is Rosa?”

“I- I don’t know!” Martzia cried. She was visibly shaking in terror. All the girls were.

“Bullshit!” Limón snapped back, and within a second, he pulled the trigger and Martzia was dead on the floor.

On impulse, you looked away, but you’d already caught an eye-full. Martzia’s blood was not only on the wall behind her, but it was on Juliet too, who was now a whimpering mess. Taking a deep breath, you mustered up all your strength to look back at the girls. Most of them had their eyes closed and their tear stained cheeks glistened under the dingy lights.

“You. Shut the fuck up.” Limón  growled before moving over to Juliet and pressing the gun against her head. She choked out a sob and apparently that was enough for Limón to pull the trigger on her as well. You slammed your hands against your mouth and let out an incomprehensible noise. That got Limón and La Quica’s attention. La Quica grabbed you and pinned you up against the wall so you were only centimetres away from Martzia and Juliet’s limp bodies.

“How long has that bitch been standing there for?” Limón asked angrily and La Quica shrugged his shoulders. Limón pulled on your hair so he could get a good look at your face. “Hey La Quica this whore must be new. Haven’t seen her around before. Nice ass too.” He smirked, wrapping his hand around your neck and squeezing it. “Do you know where Rosa is?”

You didn’t. But neither did Martzia and that had got her killed. Even if you did know where Rosa was, you wouldn’t give up that information. You couldn’t. Your heart was slamming against your chest and when you felt the handgun press in between your shoulder blades you thought you were going to pass out right then and there.

“Limón.”

It was her. It was Rosa. You felt the handgun slowly slip away from your back as both Limón and La Quica turned around to face your best friend. When you were certain they weren’t looking at you anymore, you turned around too so you could take a look at Rosa yourself. When your eyes met hers, you saw her face soften.

“Rosa!” Limón hissed, running over to the girl. “Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me it wasn’t you.” Limón grabbed on to Rosa and began to shake her. “My apartment was fucking raided, Rosa. A kilo of coke, gone. They know. They know we’ve been chauffeuring Escobar.”

You were baffled. We? She’d been helping chauffeur Pablo fucking Escobar? You shook your head in disbelief, praying it wasn’t true. She’d been lecturing you about the dangers of your job when she’d been doing the most dangerous thing of all. And how could she not tell you? If she had just told you… maybe you could’ve helped her. Maybe you could’ve done something. It couldn’t be true.

“I called the cops,” Rosa confessed, her voice emotionless and her face stone cold. “I called the cops and they put me through to the DEA immediately. I met with an agent. I told him everything I knew. I ratted you out Limón, and you should thank me.”

Limón raised his hand and slapped Rosa across the face. “You bitch!” He shouted. “How could you do this to me Rosa? How could you fucking--”

Then, a gunshot.

The sound was blinding and everything went in slow motion. You swore that your heart stopped beating as tears streamed down your face. You screamed as you watched her body fall to the ground.

“La Quica you fucker! You killed her! You killed Rosa!” Limón cried out in anguish, grabbing his friend by the shoulders. “What the fuck man! What the fuck!”

“She confessed,” La Quica huffed, trying to calm his friend. “I know you liked her but she’s a fucking whore, Limón! She made her mouth go. She’s the reason you had the fucking DEA sniffing out your apartment. We’re not only in trouble with the cops but if Escobar finds out… shit man. I’m scared.” 

Both La Quica and Limón were visibly freaking out. They had put their guns away at least, but they were pacing around in circles again and shouting at each other. But you couldn’t hear a single thing. You couldn't see anything... just the blur of their bodies. You couldn’t smell and your fingers felt numb. You felt like you were falling. Your chest was tight and your heart was broken.

“We have to run Limón, three fucking gunshots. Three dead bodies. The cops have probably already been called.” La Quica informed Limón as he helped coach his friend’s panicked breathing. You looked down at Martzia and Juliet’s bodies on the floor and then your gaze followed over to Rosa’s body. As the men scrambled out the brothel, you fell to your knees and crawled over to your best friend.

“Rosa,” you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you picked up and cradled her body in your arms. Her blood was all over you, and you felt like you could throw up at any second. “Rosa please. I- Rosa. No no no what… What did you do Rosa?” You chanted your best friend's name and cried into her body.

What did she do?

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Pain Is For The Living taglist: (let me know if you wish to be added)

[charlie-slmccl]

C!Slimecicle RP Blog Masterpost

Hello! I'm and my pronouns are it/its! (my main blog is @logstead-lockstep if u wanna be there)

I just wanna go over the basic rules of my blog lmaooo

Rules

No NSFW - jokes are fine

Angst yes but please tread lightly because it can cause me to spiral

any dsmp member antis (yes schlatt antis u too) dni (kind of a rule 3.5 but idc who you watch or whatever as long as ur a nice person urself)

be careful with kind of. general triggering stuff cause refer to rule 2

Headcanons

adopted 90% of his traits from quackity

relatively human looking but underneath his clothes he's all grimy and wimey

his bones are not his!!! he got all sorts of animal bones in there!!!! (his "brain" is actually a cave tortoise shell)

easily persuaded but reluctant when it comes to quackity

blind as FUCK without his glasses (got this from deep sea fish)

adores head pressure and so he sometimes wears beanies (courtesy of quackity)

he doesnt have any nerves/receptors!! this means he cant feel (physical) pain

leading on from that last one, because he has no receptors on his tongue, he cannot detect spice or sour. he has eaten carolina reapers before and he will!!!! do it again

goes entirely slimy in the rain so thats why he likes Las Nevadas being in the desert

also slimes when experiencing extreme negative emotions

AUTISM!!!!!!!!!

Appearance

5'11

mostly human looking, apart from his under-clothes gunkiness

aviator style glasses that r pretty thick (short sighted!!!)

his suit is slightly green bc his slime kinda dried in it

picked up his suspenders and beanie from quack

bouncy hair

very gummy in texture

so... hear me out here... his legs are like lava lamps... some of the lava from his death remained in his legs and now hes just a fucking lava lamp in his shins

Tags!!

#friends!! - ask tag!

#oh :( - angst tag

#regularly scheduled slimecicle - rp tag

#disruption to your regularly scheduled program - non-canon rp

#tortoise shell movement - character ranting/thoughts

#mod talks - the mod speaks

#different channel - not rp

#important - anything i deem important. this could be just announcements or things that could save lives. lichrally anything

#important (to me) - menial shit i (mod hello me yes) like