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mercurycft · 9 months ago

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𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 — 𝐊𝐌

## katie mccabe x team mate reader!!

hey pooookies! i hope you have all been well - are we all so surprised at how active i’ve been?! are we also all ripping our hair out in preparation for the final on sunday — I wonder how inspector gadget is gonna fuck us over this week :))). anyways! i tried something new with this one! i hope you enjoy! love always - RG x

3.6k words

contains : !! social / drunk smoker r !! jealousy, hidden feelings, tipsy one night stand, best friend x best friend, top!katie & bottom!reader, praise, dirty talk, thigh riding, semi-public (bathroom cubicle/stall), fingering r!receiving, finger sucking.

CONTAINS 18+ CONTENT AND LANGUAGE

the ninety-second minute.

two minutes into the four of added time. by this point, your legs are burning. the sound of the crowd ringing through your ears and rattling around your brain. you tried to stay focused, overly aware of the time ticking away. your season debut, a sold out emirates and you were finally off the bench and on the grass at the start of the second half. the first half was a mess, truth be told. the team had conceded a goal twelve minutes in and didn't score the equaliser until minute thirty-seven. it felt anticlimactic, the players and fans reeking of disappointment at the display in front of them. how the team had been playing and how they were playing seemed like a humorous juxtaposition.

the blur of red and white fell into the background as you felt the ball at your feet, walti hitting the ball perfectly through a gap in the opposition and picking you out. this startled you out of your train of thought and your feet moved faster than your brain could compute as you started running.

you breezed up the field, weaving through the opposing players with the ball still on your feet. beth was ahead of you to the right of the box, screaming your name above the noise. you could hear a few others behind you too, leah calling out behind you to pass it across the box to beth. you looked up, eyes flicking from the ball to the scenes around you in second intervals. you were covered, their defence closing in on you as you crept closer and closer to the goal. your eyes found the keeper ahead of you, arms open and bouncing on her feet. you could feel the bodies around you closing in, you couldn't turn and now you couldn't place beth as she disappeared behind them.

ninety-three.

you tried to stall for just a second, still fighting through the wall with the ball below you. you looked around, eyes searching for a red. you had no choice, you took a deep breath. a gap, just look for a gap you thought, scanning between the bodies. then you spotted it, a crack in their defence. there it is the voice in your head egged you on, then you ran again. arms raising to your side to give you the last kick of power you needed, body twisting as your foot retracted.

the stadium and people around you seemed to slow as soon as the inside of your foot made contact with the ball, eyes locked on it as it picked off the ground and began soaring towards the goal in front of you. it was up and over the keeper even as she jumped, launching herself up in an attempt to avert the ball outside of the posts. instead, it trickled above and over her fingertips, top right corner. back of the net.

you watched as it made contact with the net, rippling out as the crowd jumped to their feet. screaming and hollering a mix of your name and cheers, at the sight and sound your knees buckled. hand's breaking your fall as your head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut as you cried out a sound of relief and elation. the screams around you grew as your teammates flew towards you, arms wrapped around you tightly as they screamed and congratulated you. lifting you off the ground and into the middle of the group, patting your head and singing along with the crowd as they chanted for you. katie was the first to speak directly to you, hands on either side of your head as she raised her voice above the racket from the crowd. “there’s my star girl!” she screamed, smiling from ear to ear.

the whistle blows. the game ends.

you, along with the other girls take your victory lap. soaking in the love from the fans and taking a few minutes to enjoy the moment alongside each other. when the celebrations had ceased, pictures had been taken and the fans had slowly began to make their way out of their seats and towards the exits - you and the girls retreated back through the tunnel and towards the changing room.

once inside, the celebrations continue in the form of dancing and singing. the group all swaying and holding one another whilst ‘the angel’ blares through a speaker in the corner of the room. voices echo of the walls as you butcher it, laughing at the sight surrounding you. beside you stood beth, arm slung across your shoulder and hips knocking yours as she swayed to the beat of the song. she leant towards you, her mouth not too far from your ear as she whispered a small and teasing.

“well done, star girl..”

—————————

three hours later you stood outside of a local bar, a team favourite. a small, proper british, weather-spoons styled bar tucked away in a corner of north-london. there was a shelter above you, shielding you from peering eyes and people wandering by. you were standing with your head down, eyes glued to your phone and back pressed against the brick wall.

you typed vigorously, cracking a smile every few seconds as a new message popped up at the bottom of the screen.

y/n : i am NOT walking in alone

meado : just go in! we will be there in 2 minutes!

y/n : beth. i am not being the first one here!!

le : stop being a baby

km : can score in front of 50k but can’t be first in??

y/n : i actually beg you shut up

lia : we are around the corner!! are you out front?

y/n : yes, save me

before you could continue on your rampage, your attention was directed to the sound of an irish accent bellowing towards you. lifting your eyes off the screen in front of you, you were met with the source of the sound.

“are you ever quiet? or do you not possess the ability?” you teased, smiling as she engulfed you in her arms and pulled you towards her chest.

“nah, but ye’ know ye’ don’t mind,” she replied “do you not possess the ability to walk into a bar alone?” she added, emphasising her point with the tap of her finger against your shoulder, smirking when you rolled your eyes.

“shut up, mccabe.”

you and katie have been friends for years, and teammates for even longer. people often liked to comment on the pair of you, fans would speculate and ‘ship’ you together. sure, there was the odd flirty comment passed between you, or a single instagram post that painted you as a little closer than friends. but nothing ever came from it, and nothing was said. you got on like a house on fire, even though people were continuously confused about how you actually got on, considering how different your personalities are. katie was a loud and outgoing character, a joker. you, on the other hand preferred to slip into the background most times. but somehow, it worked. on the pitch, and away from the pitch.

katie ushered you inside, making small talk as the pair of you walked towards the back - sitting down into a booth beside each other and thanking the server as he scattered a number of drinks menus around the circular table.

over the next few minutes the rest of the girls started to filter in, saying hello’s and getting comfy around the table as conversations kicked up. as the seats started filling you felt katie shimmy off the seat and move somewhere away from the group. you sat beside leah, discussing a mutual and old friend you had recently bumped into. sharing a bout of laughter at resurfacing memories.

the drinks began to circulate and music started to flow through the room, everyone relaxing into the occasion when katie slipped back into the seat beside you. she placed two drinks down on the table, and then slid one in front of you - her hand tapping your thigh twice under the table as she did so. you smiled to yourself with a hand clasping around the glass and tapping twice with your finger nail, thanking her silently.

the other girls were used to this by now, beth and viv would call it a ‘secret language’. joking about how you spent so much time together you could communicate telepathically. the two taps could mean anything, a thank you, an okay, an ‘oh my god did you hear that?’. it was completely subjective to the situation, but either way you always understood each other.

another half hour ticked by, and the team still remained around the table. drinks in hand, all engaged in the same conversation but still managing to speak over one another. the room was stuffy, and your skin was crawling for a bit of fresh air.

you made it outside, the door closing behind you and blocking out the music. you took a deep breath, allowing the chill in the air to fill your lungs as you took a seat at one of the rickety tables. you placed your bag to rest on your legs, fingers sifting through your bag, then lifting to your lips followed by the click of a lighter.

you inhaled, eyes closing for a second then looking down at your phone - flicking through your social media. you stayed like this for a few moments, eyes locked on the screen until a voice made you jump. moving swiftly to tug your arm under the table, shielding the sight of your cigarette from view.

“that’ll kill ye’ you know..”

“jesus christ, katie you scared me!” you complained, moving your hand to rest on the table-top once more, unbothered by her presence or possible acknowledgment to your bad habit.

“don’t understand why ye’ do it, it ain’t even nice.” her accent seemed to get thicker once paired with the alcohol she had consumed, “don’t like watchin’ you do it..”

“don’t watch me then,” you quipped, smiling sarcastically as you raised it to your lips again.

“put it out, let’s go inside.”

“i’ll be in in a minute-”

“put it out.”

that’s new. you thought in regards to the way her words caused your stomach to churn, unable to fight your hand as you flicked the cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out with the sole of your shoe.

“happy now?”

“very.”

her eyes were trained on you, watching as you stood from your seat and made your way over to her. slipping a piece of gum between your lips.

“gonna stand there a check me out all night mccabe? or you gonna come inside..?”

—————————

you weren’t entirely sure how it had gotten to this point, but you were sat on the edge of your seat absolutely seething. eyebrows furrowed and teeth clenched beneath your pursed lips. eyes fixated on the scene unfolding in front of you.

beth could feel the tension in your body from beside you, placing a hand on your back and asking if you’re okay not entirely convinced when she received your answer through gritted teeth.

katie stood at the bar, leaning against a stool as she spoke to a woman. not just any woman, a beautiful blonde woman. who was laughing obnoxiously loud and dramatically at something katie had said, leant right in towards her ear with a hand on her shoulder.

you had watched this for long enough, the sight alone enough to cause a strike of anger and jealousy in the depths of your stomach. you rose to your feet, ignoring the way beth called your name lowly and under her breath but failed to restrain you. you walked towards the pair now stood far, far too close to each other. timing it perfectly as katie created space for you to slip into her side, tucking your arm around her waist.

pretending to be interested in something happening in the room you spoke sweetly “shall we get going babe? you’ve got to be up early.” before turning to finally meet katie’s eyes, she was shocked - gobsmacked even as you stood next to her putting on a performance. you flashed her a smile before you turned towards her company, “oh my! sorry i didn’t see you there, am i interrupting?”

she was up and gone before giving you a reply, scoffing and grunting towards katie as she left. you laughed to yourself, removing your hand and filling the now empty seat. katie, however, was less amused. muttering a “what the fuck was that?” with a scrunched up face.

“what was what?”

“thanks.” she spat, marching away from you. she crossed the room and you watched her walk into the bathroom - trailing shortly behind her, calling her name. when you made it into the bathroom it was quiet, as if it was empty. you advanced towards one of the stalls, pressing your fingertips to the door and pushing gently.

“katie?” no reply and the door opened to reveal an empty cubicle. “katie?” you said again, huffing slightly as you pushed the second one open.

this time, the door flew open and a hand grabbed your wrist - pulling you inside. before you had the chance to register what was happening your back was pressed up against the now closed door, with a body laid against your front.

you gasped at the contact, a familiar perfume flooding your senses before you eventually opened your eyes just to be met with a pair of blue ones you had seen so many times.

“i used to enjoy this silly little game of yours, you know. but now, i’m getting a little tired, love.” she whispered, still keeping you pinned with your arms by your side and legs shoulder width apart.

“i don’t know what you-”

“what i’m trying to say is, if you really wanted me that bad, you should’ve just said so.” she added, lifting her hand to tilt your head. her lips on the skin of your neck instantly, peppering kisses below your ear and down to where your collarbone sits. raising and falling cautiously with every deep breath you took.

you didn’t fight it, instead you sighed into her touch, body relaxing against hers. you could feel her smirk against your skin, teeth grazing the skin of your jaw. you wriggled one of your hands out of her grip, laying it across the back of her neck. palming it gently as you pulled her back, looking at her properly.

she scanned your face, watching as your head twitched in a tiny nod - never breaking eye contact with her once. her features softened, but her lips twisted into a cocky smirk. moving towards you and attaching your lips together.

you had kissed once before, in a stupid game of truth or dare about five years ago. it was small, a peck and lasted maybe three seconds.

this kiss, right now, was the polar opposite. lips moving against each other roughly, hands tugging at each other clothes and skin. the kiss was fast paced, and twisted with lust and want. it was erotic and urgent, as if you might disappear and the moment will be gone if you even dared to come up for air. your lips pressed together so hard you thought they might bruise.

your lips were on fire when she pulled away, trailing a path of hot kisses down the same path she took earlier. nipping and licking along your jaw and neck as you whimpered from above her, shifting your weight from your right to left foot and back again. unable to contain the heat spreading through you. it started in the pit of your stomach, angry and fierce at the hands of katie’s actions.

“katie..” you whispered, clawing at the clothes on her back. she didn’t reply, to focused on the task at hand. “katie.” you said again, this time it came out like a hiccup, breath hitching when she nipped at a particularly sensitive patch beneath your ear. “katie, please!”

“what, love?” she pulled away with a smirk. eyes deep and lips parted as she gasped for air.

“i need you,”

“i’m right here.”

her answer didn’t satisfy, laced with cockiness as she licked her lips. your leg lifted to bend hers and press between your legs, inhaling sharply when you felt the contact on your heat - tugging your lip between your teeth as the irish woman groaned and lifted a hand to sit at the side of your face, stroking her thumb along the skin as you grabbing and palmed at her leg to bring it closer.

“is that what you want, love?” you knew it was rhetorical, a question that didn’t need an answer. but still you nodded vigorously, rolling your hips against her thigh which now sat in the perfect position for relief. “you wanna got off on my thigh now hm?” she added, the words alone enough to send another rush of heat through your abdomen.

you couldn’t form words, already starting to rut against her thigh when her hands began to creep up your top, teasing over the fabric of your bra at the feeling of your fully hard nipples.

“go on, baby, get off on my thigh..” she encouraged, one hand sitting firmly on your hip to guide you and the other being used to lift your top further. taking one of your nipples between her fingers, watching as your teeth laid harshly into your bottom lip - eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“you like this, huh? getting yourself off, right here? being a good girl for me, aren’t ye’?” she whispered into your ear, teeth softly grazing against the skin of your ear lobe.

“want your fingers, katie,” you whimpered, the pressure through the layers of clothing not providing you with enough.

“hm, that’s not how we ask now is it?” she questioned, eyebrow cocked and hands stilling you on her thigh. “why don’t you ask properly n’ i’ll see what i can do..”

“please katie, i want your fingers..” you whined, body distraught at the loss of contact. katie let out a satisfied ‘hm’ at your words, pressing a quick kiss to your lips when her hands dropped to unbutton your jeans. she shoved them down till they sat around your mid-thigh, fingers ghosting over your clothed slit as she sighed.

“look at you, made such a mess. proper ruined these are..” she teased, adding pressure through the fabric before skilfully moving them to the side. allowing her fingers to slip through your folds, smirking against you when she felt how wet you were. “jesus, love. absolutely soaked.” you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks as she teased you, not fully committing to where you needed her most.

you groaned in frustration, head laying back against the cubicle door when she finally pressed the pads of her fingers onto the bundle of nerves, chuckling when she felt your body jolt forward and thighs tense at the feeling. “right there, baby?” she whispered, burying her head into your neck once more. you nodded, hips moving to grind against her fingers - swivelling in small circles and moaning out into the room.

through the laboured breaths you managed to croak out a meek and stuttered “please fuck me, need your fingers,” mouth agape and limbs on fire when you felt her move her fingers down to the source of your arousal. allowing one of her fingers to slip inside you, enough to feel you clench around her and whisper out a beg for more.

when she added a second, your head fell forward. attaching your lips together again, your moans slipping beyond her lips. your teeth grazed against the skin of her bottom lip now, in exchange to yours and she grunted out a low “behave.” when you pushed your luck.

you could feel the coil in the pit of your stomach bouncing around your organs and numbing your lower body when her fingertips pressed against your g-spot. knees buckling and eyes screwing shut, fingers gripping her bicep - leaving crescent shaped marks in the exposed skin beneath her sleeve.

“fuck, right there- oh my god.” you moaned, unable to hold them in any longer, your mind clouded by pleasure and entirely focused on chasing the high that was rapidly approaching.

“right there?” she punctuated her point by curling her fingers deeper, “ye’ gonna cum for me? show me how pretty ye’ look makin’ a mess of my fingers?” she knew just what to say to have you squirming and send your mind racing.

you felt you tighten around her fingers, grunting a “cum for me.” into the crook of your neck, not slowing or stilling her fingers until she heard you cry out. using her lips to muffle your cries as she rode it out, letting you catch your breath for a few seconds before removing them all together. bringing them up to your lips, which you accepted gracefully. hollowing out your cheeks, tongue flattening against them before finishing with a pop.

katie held you up the same way she had been until you were confident on your feet again, helping you to straighten your clothes and push your hair out of your face. you felt an awkward silence rush over you both, inhaling deeply. you were sure she could hear your inner monologue when she jokingly let a “well then, thats never happened before..” break through the silence, causing you both to laugh.

you pushed her hair away from her eyes, slipping your hands onto her cheeks and bringing her forward to connect your lips again. this time softly, more careful and loving. you both relaxed instantly, smiling as you pulled away.

it hadn’t happened before, no.

but would it be the last time, no.

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gullemec · 6 days ago

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Pandora's Box

Golden Cage - Chapter Two

ao3

Pairing: Billy Butcher x f!reader

Summary: The Boys send you on your first mission and you end up with more than you bargained for.

Warnings: emotional abuse, daddy issues

WC: 4.5k

A/N: I just want to say thank you to everyone who liked/commented/reblogged chapter one, it genuinely means so much to me🥹 i've started a taglist as well so please let me know if you'd like to be added!

The Boys, as you’ve come to know them, waste absolutely no time.

After quick introductions to MM, a steady and level-headed founding member, and Kimiko, a silent but razor-sharp Supe liberated from captivity, Butcher starts laying out the plan with all the delicacy of a sledgehammer.

On the coffee table before you sits a small fortune in spy gear: bugs, GPS trackers, cameras, audio recorders, and a litany of tiny devices that look like they belong in a spy movie. The sheer quantity makes your head spin.

Hughie kneels by the table, carefully picking up each device and explaining its purpose. His earnestness almost makes the whole thing less intimidating. Almost. Truthfully, he could tell you just about anything and you'd continue to nod along. Seeing as you've never taken up cat burglary or espionage as a hobby, you barely understand anything he's telling you.

“This one here,” Hughie says, holding up a tiny black button-like device, “is a bug. A listening device. You stick it somewhere, and it picks up sound within about twenty feet. Pretty good range.” He hands it to you, and you turn it over in your fingers, pretending to understand.

Behind him, Butcher leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. He watches the two of you silently, his sharp eyes flicking between the gear and your increasingly overwhelmed expression.

“Right,” Butcher drawls, pushing off the wall and strolling over. He snatches the bug from your hand, holding it up between thumb and forefinger. “Here’s how this works: you stick this under your dad’s desk or somethin’ that gets a lot of traffic. We’ll be able to hear every dodgy little word that comes out of his mouth.”

You nod, eyes wide, shellshocked. You're taken back to the time your mother brought you to see Spy Kids and you spent an entire month afterward somersaulting around the house and peeking around corners pretending you, too, were a spy. You had even begged her to order you a spy kit through your school's Scholastic Book Fair. The real thing, as you've come to learn, involves much less gymnastics and invisible ink than you'd originally thought.

This is all so ridiculous. You woke up this morning prepared to face another day of monotonous lab reports, mind-numbing thinktank meetings, and unending feelings of inadequacy. Now you’re playing Inspector Gadget with a ragtag group of vigilantes to infiltrate a corrupt conglomerate that may or may not be responsible for your mother’s death.

If you don’t laugh, you’re pretty sure you might just cry.

Butcher doesn’t seem to notice your inner spiral. “Easy as pie,” he adds, smirking like it really is that simple.

“Sure,” you murmur, trying to sound more sure than you feel.

Hughie, sensing your nerves, holds up another device, a thick black disc about the size of a hockey puck. “This one’s a GPS tracker. While you’re planting the bug, Frenchie and I’ll slap these on your dad’s and Monica’s cars. That way, we’ll know where they go and when.”

Your stomach twists. This is all so surreal.

Hughie hesitates, his brow furrowing as he takes in your face. “Look, I get it. It’s a lot. First time I got roped into this, Butcher had me bug the Seven’s meeting room. Thought I was gonna throw up the whole time.”

You gape at him. “Wait—you bugged the Seven? How the hell did you pull that off?”

“I didn’t,” Hughie says with an awkward laugh. “Got caught.”

Your eyes widen. “You got caught?” The words come out more panicked than you intend, and your sweaty palms rub against the worn fabric of the couch. “Oh, God, I can’t—this is—what if I—”

Your mind explores every possibility, every unique way this can, will, go horribly wrong. Monica finds the bug and calls security. Your dad catches you red-handed, his disappointment turning into something darker.

Or, perhaps worst of all, you succeed and uncover the truth, and it will be worse than the weight of the uncertainty you've carried.

A heavy hand clamps down on your shoulder, stopping your thoughts cold.

Your head snaps up, and your eyes meet Butcher’s. His expression is calm but firm, and his grip feels strangely reassuring. For a moment, the world seems to steady itself. You grab his hand instinctively, your fingers brushing his. He notices, clears his throat, and pulls away, leaving you colder than you’d like to admit.

“You’ll be fine,” he says, his voice softer than you expect. “Smarter than Hughie, anyway. Low fuckin’ bar, I know, but still.”

“Hey!” Hughie protests from the floor. “What the hell?”

But Butcher’s already moved on, ignoring him. “Focus on the job. We’ll be outside in the van, listenin’ through the bug. If anything goes sideways, just leg it outta there.”

The authority in his voice is oddly comforting. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve misjudged him, if there’s more to him than the sarcastic, sharp-edged persona he’s so quick to project.

Hughie looks between the two of you, confusion playing on his face.

Butcher clears his throat. “‘Less of course you have a run in with Homelander. I ain't dealing with that cunt today.”

Ah, yes. There's the asshole who kidnapped you. You nod sagely, grimacing.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He grins, sharp and wolfish. “That’s the spirit.”

You roll your eyes, half-exasperated, half-amused.

Hughie glances between the two of you, his confusion obvious. “Wait, is Homelander actually a risk here? Or is he just—”

“Don’t overthink it, Hughie,” Butcher cuts in, clapping him on the back hard enough to make him wince. “She’ll be fine. Won’t ya?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

But as the plan starts to crystallize, the reality of what you’re about to do settles in your chest like a weight.

Fine is a relative term.

~~~

Frenchie deposits you back where he found you, the cloak of secrecy still intact. Sure enough, your heels and lab coat remain where you left them, an unremarkable crumple of fabric and leather in the shadows. It's somewhat comforting to know no one else has discovered your secret smoke spot, but disappointing all the same that not a single soul came looking for you.

Eight hours. The workday has long since ended, and it’s painfully clear that the wheels of CytoGenix churn on, unbothered by your lack of presence. You collect your things and swipe your badge, heels clicking sharply against the cold tile as the fluorescent lighting hums its dispassionate scrutiny above.

CytoGenix headquarters looms like a monument to ambition, nearly as ostentatious as Vought Tower. Fifty-five stories of cutting-edge labs, supercomputers, and glassy offices stretching high above Manhattan. Your father insisted that keeping most everything in-house kept CytoGenix self-sufficient, giving it an edge against the competition. You wondered if that same logic applied to the crown jewel of the building, his infamous combination office and bedroom in the penthouse. Your mother used to jokingly refer to the family home upstate as your father's vacation home, since he primarily lived out of the office. You couldn't deny that conducting an affair mere feet away from his work desk met the definition of efficient.

You step into the elevator now, the glass box offering a vertiginous view of the city below as it rises. The sight makes your stomach churn, so you focus on the reflective silver doors instead, breathing slowly in through your nose and out through your mouth.

The penthouse is as you remember it, coldly modern and sleek, with wide-open spaces and floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the cityscape. Soft jazz hums from a turntable wedged between a pair of file cabinets, a strange touch of warmth in the otherwise sterile setting.

Your father’s mahogany desk is the only thing that breaks the space’s futuristic aesthetic. Stacks of papers teeter precariously, coffee mugs crowd the edges, and there he sits, hunched over a legal pad, scribbling furiously. He barely registers your presence as you approach, only flicking his eyes up briefly before returning to his work.

He says your name flatly, without warmth or curiosity, the same tone he might use for a colleague interrupting his train of thought.

Your heels click purposefully as you move closer, forcing yourself to breathe steadily, to keep your hands from trembling. You can’t afford to give yourself away. He can't suspect that you're here for any reason other than a friendly meeting between father and daughter.

Only, that in and of itself is suspect in your case.

When you look at him now you wonder if you see anything new, a different plane of his face you'd never noticed before, a nervous tic you'd ignored. Something, anything, that might suggest his culpability in your mother's death. Did he know? If so, what did he know? Had he been a passive player, vaguely aware that it was no accident? Or had he orchestrated the entire thing, feigning his grief all this time?

Who was the man sitting in front of you?

“Hi, Dad,” you begin, your voice carefully neutral.

“What is it?” he replies, not bothering to look up.

A flare of irritation rises, but you stamp it down. You’d expected this. “I was hoping we could talk.”

That finally gets his attention. He leans back slightly, raising an eyebrow. “About?”

“The internship,” you say, keeping your tone casual. “I just… I don’t think it’s working out. I’ve been thinking I might explore other opportunities instead.”

He stares at you for a moment, blinking slowly, as if waiting for the punchline of a joke he doesn’t find funny. Then he exhales sharply, tossing his pen onto the desk.

“Are you kidding me?” he says, his voice low but brimming with disdain. “You’re giving up already? How many times have Monica and I talked to you about seeing things through? About doing something useful with your life?”

The sting of his words is familiar, like a bruise you’ve stopped noticing. Still, it’s enough to spark a flicker of anger.

“I’m not giving up, Dad. I’m just saying this might not be the best fit—”

He cuts you off with a scoff, rising abruptly from his chair. “Fit? Jesus Christ, listen to yourself. The world isn’t about fit, it’s about work. Something you’ve clearly never understood.”

You grip the edge of the desk to steady yourself as he paces, one hand rubbing the crown of his balding head.

“I spent tens of thousands of dollars sending you to school overseas,” he continues, his voice rising. “You didn’t need a fancy education for this job but I agreed anyway, because you and your mother insisted on it. And for what? So you could come back here and whine about an internship? Biology isn’t going to help you run a company, sweetheart. Know your place.”

“I’m trying to tell you—”

“No! You don’t get to try,” he snaps, spinning to face you. “You do. You’re going to finish this internship, and then you’re going to take the seat on the board. Enough of this nonsense.”

You can see the veins in his temple pulsing, his voice growing louder with each syllable. It should scare you, the way his anger always boils over so quickly, but instead it just feels… predictable. Like muscle memory.

He's working himself into a frenzy, rising from his desk to pace around the room, reciting old adages about a hard day's work and bemoaning the laziness of today's youth, errant jabs directed toward your personal shortcomings scattered throughout.You absently consider making a bingo sheet with his favorite token phrases to bring to your next family dinner, barely concealing a chuckle at the thought of shouting BINGO! as Monica demurely chews her smoked salmon across from you.

Finally he turns to rest his head on the bookshelves that flank his desk, as though he were seeking refuge from your insolence among the leather-bound books you were certain he'd never read.

Perfect.

As he mutters to himself, your hand slips into your pocket, fingers closing around the small bug. His voice fades into a dull roar as you focus on the desk, feeling along its underside until you find the right spot. The adhesive sticks fast.

Done.

“You’re right,” you say robotically, standing and smoothing your skirt. “I’ve been stressed. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He exhales sharply, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Stressed? Sweetie, you don’t even know the first thing about stress.”

Have you ever been kidnapped? You think.

Your teeth clench, but you force a smile, nodding as though you agree. Your eyes drift to a velvet painting of lilies above the turntable, the soft white flowers providing a point of focus as his voice fades into background noise.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” you say suddenly, cutting him off mid-sentence. You grab your purse and head for the elevator.

But something makes you stop, your hand hovering over the button. Something about his anger and the way you learned from your mother how to deal with it, how to defuse the bomb. You turn back to face him as he sits down to resume his work, the rage leaving his body as rapidly as it had arrived.

“You know, I really miss her. Mom, I mean.”

The words seem to strike him like a physical blow. He freezes, his face unreadable. After a moment, he clears his throat and forces a tight smile. “I miss her too.”

Liar. Thief. Asshole.

You say nothing. You leave. You hold your tears all the way down the elevator, all the way down the fluorescent hallway, all the way until ‒

Clickclickclick.

The sound of bitchy little heels, but not your bitchy little heels. The shrill echo of your name, all false sweetness and feigned excitement.

“Monica,” you say stiffly as she approaches, taking in her perfectly laid curls, pristine white blouse, and silk pencil skirt. The picture of elegance, the bane of your existence.

“Darling,” she coos, her saccharine voice grating. She places a hand on your shoulder, her grip just a little too firm. “What are you doing here so late? You’re usually long gone by now doing… Whatever it is you do.”

She says it like she's not quite sure what the hell you could possibly be doing with your time that doesn't involve being hunched over a desk, awash in the glowing blue light of a computer screen. You'd endured many a lecture from Monica about work ethic and potential, always with the implication that you were severely lacking in both departments. You desperately wanted to ask her if she'd ever familiarized herself with things like fidelity or morals, but reasoned it would be easier to just keep your mouth shut.

You force a smile, brushing her off. “Just stopped by to see my dad. Nothing exciting.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, and for a moment, you wonder if she sees through you. Can she clock your quickening heart rate, or the sheen of sweat on your face? Does she notice the frizz of your hair, the way you couldn't quite get it to sit the way it had before a hood had been thrown over it? She knows something is off, just not what exactly.

But then the plastic smile returns, all teeth and no sincerity.

“Lovely,” she says, squeezing your arm. “Well, don’t be a stranger. Cheers, darling.”

Monica loves to talk like a posh Londoner sometimes, like she wasn't born in Cheboygan, Michigan. You could vomit.

As she clicks away, you exhale and slip out into the alley. Across the street, the van waits, nondescript under the streetlights.

You’re vaguely aware of the bitter irony as you climb back into the van of the very men who kidnapped you hours earlier, but the relief is undeniable.

“I did it! And he didn’t even notice!” you announce, grinning despite the bizarre circumstances. Your heart thuds in your chest, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

The silence hits harder than expected. Butcher, Frenchie, and Hughie all avoid your eyes, their expressions ranging from uncomfortable to grim.

“Damn,” you say, trying to inject some levity. “Not even a ‘good job’? I was expecting at least one sarcastic thumbs-up from you guys.”

Nothing.

The tension in the van is thick and stifling, coiling in your chest like a lead weight.

It’s Hughie who finally speaks, his voice soft but pointed. “Wow, you, uh... weren’t kidding when you said your dad’s an asshole.”

The smile falls from your face. The weight doubles.

They heard.

They heard everything.

Every cutting word. Every ounce of disdain your father had casually thrown your way. All of it.

You feel like you’re standing naked under a spotlight. “Oh my God,” you stammer, your voice small and wavering. “I’m sorry you guys had to hear that. I—”

“It’s fine, ma poupette,” Frenchie interrupts gently, his voice warm. “Do not let it sit in your heart. It is... nothing.”

You nod, grateful for his kindness, but it doesn’t help. The sting of exposure lingers, burrowing deeper. Despite your rather brutal introduction, you can’t help but feel a sort of kinship with the Boys. These men have been through hell, you know that, but something about them hearing your father’s tirade, hearing things you secretly believe about yourself echoed by the man who raised you, feels suffocating.

Your eyes drift to Butcher, hoping for some sharp remark or offhanded quip to cut through the tension. Instead, he says nothing at all, his jaw tight as he avoids your gaze entirely.

Before the silence can grow unbearable, a crackle of static from the nearby receiver draws everyone’s attention. Hughie leans forward, fiddling with the dials as a voice filters through, thin and distorted.

Monica.

“I saw her in the hallway downstairs. What was she talking to you about?”

Your father's voice responds, crisp and biting. “Bitching and moaning.”

He laughs. Monica laughs. You wince.

Hughie plays with some dials, attempting to improve the sound, pretending like he didn't just hear that exchange.

When Monica's voice filters through again, it's clearer. “I come bearing good news,” she says, her tone syrupy and smug.

“Oh? Do tell,” your father replies.

“Quality Control will be testing the first batch of V2 in a couple weeks. Please tell me I can invite some of my Vought friends?”

Your stomach twists.

“Baby, you know exactly how to make a man happy,” your father drawls, his voice carrying an oily satisfaction. “Of course you can. Now, come here.”

Then, sounds. Sounds you'd rather not hear. Evidently, sounds the others would rather not hear as well, as Hughie quickly flips a switch, killing the audio.

The silence that follows is deafening.

“What the fuck is V2?” Hughie blurts out, breaking the tension. His voice is edged with unease, his wide eyes darting between you and the others.

You shake your head slowly, the knot in your stomach tightening. “I—I don’t know. CytoGenix and Vought have done joint projects before, but it’s usually just sponsorships or tech. Nothing like this.”

Butcher leans back with a sigh. His hand moves to his face, dragging down as if trying to physically scrape off his frustration. “I don’t know what it is,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous, “but it sounds a bloody sight worse than V.”

Frenchie lights a cigarette, his hands shaking ever so slightly. “If it is anything like the first, then we are in very deep shit, mes amis.”

Your chest tightens further as the implications hit you. V2. A new generation of the drug that turned people into ticking time bombs of chaos and destruction. A knot of guilt begins to form in your chest, curling tighter with every second.

This was your father’s doing.

“Whatever it is,” Butcher says finally, his voice cold and hard, “we’re not letting it see the light of day.”

His eyes flick to you for the first time since you entered the van, sharp and assessing. It’s not pity, not anger. It’s expectation.

You realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s already decided you’re a part of this fight now. Whether you like it or not.

~~~

The van pulls up outside your apartment building on the Upper East Side. After the chaos of the day, the sight of the familiar facade feels almost surreal. A part of you wonders how you’re supposed to just... walk back into your life as if everything hasn’t been irrevocably altered.

You glance back at the men in the van, your kidnappers turned allies, and feel a pang of awkwardness. “Alright... goodbye, I guess?” you offer, your voice uncertain.

Butcher gives a dry, humorless smile. “In a week’s time, come back to the laundromat. Bring some clothes, do laundry like a good little citizen ‘til one of us shows up. If you’ve got a tail, they’ll think you’re just there to bleach your knickers.”

“Okay, I can do that,” you reply quickly, trying to sound more confident than you feel. Deep down, you want to prove yourself to them, to him. To show you’re not the helpless daughter your father paints you to be, in spite of what they heard today.

In spite of what you think of yourself every day.

You climb out, but before you can take more than a few steps toward the building, a hand grabs your elbow. You turn, startled, to find Butcher standing there.

“Let me walk you up,” he says, his tone gruff but somehow quieter than usual.

You blink. Butcher? Offering to walk you up to your apartment? You glance back at the van and catch Hughie and Frenchie craning their necks, their expressions mirroring your own disbelief.

“Uh... sure,” you say, fumbling for words. “I mean, I’m fine. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

He doesn’t respond, just nods toward the building. Reluctantly, you lead him inside.

The elevator ride is suffocatingly quiet, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, but his expression is unreadable.

You feel a little silly leading the man into your lavish, paid-for-by-daddy apartment, knowing that he'll rest his head on a cot in the basement of a laundromat tonight. You wonder idly if he has an apartment to call home, or if, like your father, he too shits where he eats. You wonder why he feels the need to come in and see the apartment, but nothing about him being in your space feels intrusive.

When you open the door to your loft, you hesitate for a moment before stepping inside. “Well, this is it,” you say, your voice faltering.

He follows you in, his eyes scanning the space. The eclectic decor—a mix of warm woods, mismatched textiles, and knickknacks—feels so far removed from the sterile confines of CytoGenix. You can’t help but notice how out of place Butcher looks here, yet oddly... fitting.

You watch as he pokes around, taking in the details. The art prints on the walls. The stack of books on the coffee table. The half-empty cup of tea you’d abandoned this morning, now cold.

For a moment, you imagine him here. Standing in your kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner. Slouched on the couch, the trench coat swapped for something softer. Following you up the stairs to the loft.

Your cheeks burn, and you shake the thought away violently. What the hell is wrong with you?

His voice cuts through your daydream.

His voice breaks through your spiraling thoughts. “I had a proper cunt for a dad too,” he says, his tone soft and almost hesitant.

You blink, caught completely off guard. “Oh?”

He doesn’t look at you, instead focusing on a small photo on the shelf—a candid shot of you and your mother from when you were small. He picks it up, his thumb brushing lightly over the glass. “Used to say the same shit to me and my brother. Called us lazy, useless... worse things, sometimes.”

His voice is flat, but there’s something raw beneath the surface, something unguarded.

You hesitate, unsure of what to say. “I’m... sorry,” you manage.

He sets the photo back down and finally looks at you. “Don’t be. He’s six feet under now. Good riddance.”

There’s no malice in his tone, just a hollow sort of finality. For a moment, the Butcher you’ve come to know, the sharp-edged, foul-mouthed enigma, feels human.

But as quickly as he let the walls down, they slam back into place. “You got your mum’s autopsy report here?” he asks, his voice clipped and businesslike.

You nod, the sudden shift catching you off balance. “Yeah. I’ll get it.”

You head upstairs to retrieve the manila envelope, your hands trembling slightly as you pull it from its hiding spot. When you return, he takes it from you without a word, his fingers brushing yours briefly.

The two of you stand there, the silence heavy. You want to say something, anything. To thank him for helping you, to ask about the man behind the trench coat, to yell at him for upending your life in the span of a single day. But the words stick in your throat.

It’s Butcher who finally speaks. “I’ll look into it,” he says, tucking the envelope under his arm. “See if it’s legit.”

“Thank you,” you say softly.

He nods, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary. Then, without another word, he turns and heads for the door.

“Well,” he says, glancing back over his shoulder, “I’ll see you in a week.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

The sound of the lock clicking into place feels deafening in the quiet that follows.

You sink onto the couch, the events of the day crashing down on you all at once.

An eternity seems to have passed since that midnight phone call, since the sterile voice on the other end of the line informed you that your mother was gone. The grief had consumed you, left you hollow and detached, moving through life like a shadow of yourself. You had gone through the motions, not even making the slightest effort to force life into your flat affect. Every single day you met the world with a brave, numb face, waiting until the apartment door clicked shut before allowing the full-body, hyperventilating sobs to overtake you.

And then, in a single day, everything changed.

You glance at the photo Butcher had touched, your mother’s warm smile frozen in time. The guilt of betraying your father gnaws at you, tangled with the confusing comfort you felt among the Boys, and your inexplicable attraction toward the man who had both abducted and protected you.

Shaking your head, you retreat to your room, shedding your clothes and crawling beneath the covers. The too-big bed feels impossibly empty, and you lay there staring at the ceiling, the weight of the day pressing down on you.

You stare half-lidded at the ceiling waiting for the familiar pull of your chest as the first sob claws its way out. When the tears finally come, they’re violent and unrelenting, wracking your body until it physically hurts.

Eventually, exhaustion claims you, and you dream of your mother.

Taglist: @mystic-writings

#billy butcher #fanfic #fanfiction #theboys #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher fanfic #william butcher #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #the boys #the boys tv #billy butcher x you #karl urban brainrot go brrr #billy butcher the boys

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heavyhitterheaux · 1 year ago

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Can't Take You Seriously

First Lady of Private Garden Blurb

AN: I saw a tweet about this and just had to do it lol

Synopsis: You are trying to have a serious conversation with your husband, but can't figure out why he's so distracted

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

First Lady of Private Garden Masterlist 1

First Lady of Private Garden Masterlist 2

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

“Baby! Are you even listening to me?!” You exclaimed as you looked at your husband who seemed like he was focused on everything else but you.

“Of course I am!” Jack replied to you as you were standing in front of him.

“Then what did I just say?!”

“Umm, I forgot to do something that you asked.”

“And I asked you to do it last week! If I knew that this was going to take this long, I would have done it myself. You’ve been home for three weeks now from tour. I let you relax a little bit and take a moment for yourself, but did you suddenly forget that you’re a husband and a father too?”

“I’m not trying to argue with you, babe. Of course I didn’t forget!”

“Then why are we having this conversation for the third time this week? I’m about to drop you off on Maggie’s doorstep but now that she’s gotten rid of you, she probably doesn’t want you back.” You complained while crossing your arms and Jack still had that weird look on his face and didn’t even bother responding to your previous statement.

“Jackman! What has you so distracted? Because you are literally hardly paying attention to anything that I’m saying. I could use a little more help here and I don’t know how many times that I have to say it. You decided to get me pregnant, did you not?”

All you felt was Jack move your wig that you were wearing slightly to the left, taking you aback and you were now the one looking confused.

“I literally cannot take you seriously while you’re yelling at me and your wig is crooked. Now it’s not, so we can continue.” Jack muttered while smoothing out the top and you were just looking at him in disbelief.

“Look, as much money as I spend on buying them for you, I need to make sure we’re getting my money’s worth and you’re wearing them right. Now, as you were saying?”

All you did was roll your eyes and Jack noticed that you now had a pout on your face.

“If you rolled your eyes at me any harder just now, they would have gotten stuck. So, now you’re quiet and don’t have anything to say?”

“You get on my last nerve.” You replied as you were trying your hardest not to laugh.

“I can’t have my wife out here looking like I don’t love her and take care of her! Can you imagine the headlines? And then he who shall not be named will take that as an opportunity to slide right in and take my place.”

“Not with him wearing those inspector gadget looking outfits.”

“I-... we’re going to leave that one alone.”

“But seriously, baby can you please go do what I asked?” You said as Jack pulled you into a hug and kissed your forehead.

“Yes, babe. I’m going right now and I’m sorry that I’ve just been in a mood lately. Being a husband and a parent doesn’t stop and I promise that I’m good now. Was just overwhelmed for a minute.”

“And you didn’t tell me this because? What did I tell you about that?”

“I know and I have no excuse. Thank you for always being here for me when I need you.”

“Always and forever.”

“And I’m always going to be here for you especially when your wig needs to be fixed.”

You pulled away from Jack to look up at him and gave him a blank stare.

“What?”

“I should have returned you with the receipt when I had the chance.” You muttered and Jack rolled his eyes.

“If the receipt you’re talking about is our marriage license, keep in mind that you were the one who got drunk and proceeded to almost set it on fire and would have if I didn’t throw you over my shoulder and Dani grabbed it from you.”

“Hmm, she was useful for some things I guess, but I don’t recall.”

“I guess not since the next morning you didn’t remember a single thing that happened, but it’s okay. I love my wife and her crooked wigs and all.” Jack leaned down to kiss the tip of your nose and you were trying to get away from him.

“Jackman?”

“Uh oh. Government name was used.”

“Use your hand for a week.”

“That’s how you’re going to treat me after these hands fixed your wig for you? They can make you cum too if you let me.”

“JACKMAN THOMAS, CUT IT OUT!”

First Lady Blurbs Taglist

@cmalass

@a-moment-captured

@alinaharlow

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@harlowcomehome

@hoodharlow

@nattinatalia

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow concept #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow blurb #first lady of pg

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your-averagewriter · 2 years ago

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"It’s the only goddamn hat you’re gonna get.”

Summary: At the bar, everyone's drunk and dancing but DuBois finally decides to do something about Rick's hands around her waist (Robert DuBois x fem!reader).

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, drinking, kissing, making out

We enter the bar and immediately we’re met with bright lights and strippers, sounds like a good time is what I think. The music isn’t too loud so we can actually hear each other. I’m reminded as we sit down that we’re not here for fun, we’re here for the Thinker. Of course, the first time I’ve been to a bar in months is for a mission and not fun.

I’m cheered up though when Peacemaker beacons over a waiter and orders a round of drinks.

“Hey, piss maker, you’re on a mission.” I chuckle at the nickname.

“Easy, Inspector Gadget.” He moves mockingly. “A little drink never hurt nobody.”

“Except for the 1000s of people killed in drunk driving accidents every year.” Polka-Dot man pipes up, depressingly.

“C’mon Robert, I hate to agree with this guy.” I say, indicating to Peacemaker. “But you should let loose a little. Who knows, this could be our last drink?” I say as the waitress brings the drinks over.

“Fine, one drink.” DuBois gives in.

“You’re gonna be that guy?” Peacemaker mocks.

“Yeah, I’m gonna be that guy.”

“Hey, it’s progress.” I say with a smile, throwing my arm around Robert before downing my drink.

After that one round comes another then another and suddenly we’re all on the dance floor. I’m dancing with Cleo, Peacemaker’s dancing too. Although I’m trying to stay clear of him, Rick and Robert are hanging by the side of the dance floor, laughing, looking very tipsy.

I giggle, the alcohol feels great in my system after a while of not being able to drink and dancing with Cleo is the most fun I’ve had in a while. Not that either of us are particularly good dancers but we might not even be alive tomorrow so who cares what we look like.

After a while I head back over to Rick and Robert in the corner as I grasp onto a new glass from the waitress.

“Hey guys.” I say to the two of them, giggling as I go. “Do you guys wanna dance?” I say with a massive smile on my face.

They look at each other then Rick turns back to me with a smile, a silly cowboy hat on.

“I’m down.” He says, leaving his glass on the side after he swallowed the rest of it. “DuBois?” He asks.

“I’m gonna hang back at the bar.”

“Suit yourself.” I say, dragging Rick by the hand onto the dance floor. “C’mon cowboy.” I say with a smirk.

We dance under the bright lights, the colours illuminating our bodies as we dance with each other, Rick’s hands on my hips. I tip Rick’s hat with a smile.

“I’ve always loved your Southern accent, the hat with it is just too much for me to handle.” I giggle as I drunkenly flirt with him. This happens everytime we’re drunk together, the flirting commences but we both know that it means nothing. There’s always a bar trip on the Suicide Squad missions that almost makes up for the traumatic experiences, well not quite but it’s fun.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for cowboys.” He says.

“Neither did I.” I chuckle before resting my head on his chest as a slower song starts playing - nothing too romantic but a bit more slow tempo.

After a while, Robert walks over to us and I pull myself off Rick ready to welcome him to the dance floor.

“Robert, you finally dancing?” I ask as I continue to move to the beat of the music.

“Thought it was about time.” He says with a small smirk, placing his hands on my hips like Rick did although it didn’t feel like this with Rick. And I certainly didn’t miss the dirty look from him to Rick. “So you and Flag, huh?” He asks over the music and I start laughing again. “What? What’s so funny?” He questions, confused.

“We’re not together.”

“It certainly sounded like it.” He sighs.

“Well, it isn’t. You jealous? Do you not like Rick?”

“No and it’s complicated.”

“Why? Rick’s great.” I say with a beaming smile - I’ve always loved my friends and kept them very close to my heart and I still do despite these conditions.

“He was dancing with you and touching you.”

“Okay?” I say, confused on what the problem is. “I asked you to dance with me and you didn’t want to.” I say with a frown.

“Oh, trust me I did. There are very few things I would’ve wanted more.”

“Why didn’t you do anything?”

“I’m trying to now.”

“Then do something.” I say and he grabs my hand, I follow him to the toilets. Once inside he locks the door and presses me against it.

His lips are on mine in a second and quickly I wrap my arms around his neck pulling him closer. I can feel the wood of the door rubbing against my back but all I care about are his lips, how they so fervently move against mine like a starved man.

After a few moments he pulls away from me and I chase his lips only to be met with a chuckle.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks.

“Yes. Are you?” I say, quickly.

“Fuck yeah. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

He taps my leg then his waist signalling for me to wrap my legs around him. I yelp, surprised when he hoists me up and moves to sit me on top of the sinks. He laughs against my lips at my reaction.

“You said you weren’t jealous of Rick.” I smirk.

“I lied. I was jealous because every man in the room was looking at you, watching your body as you danced to the music with Cleo then when you danced with Rick. I had to watch as his hands rested on your hips where mine should’ve been. I watched him flirt with you like I wanted to.”

“You should’ve got a cowboy hat then.” I say, chuckling as I watch Robert’s reaction, his eyebrows creasing. “I’m just joking.” I say and his lips seem to melt against mine as his tongue licks across my bottom lip requesting entry which I grant willingly.

I release one of my arms from around his neck and reach to his head where a navy beret lies undisturbed. Gripping onto it, I hoist from his head and dangle it in front of his face before dropping it gently on my head.

I giggle as I turn to see my reflection in the mirror. It looks a little silly and it’s too big for me but I can’t complain.

“Get back here.” Robert beacons as I turn back away from the mirror to reunite with his lips.

“Don’t worry, I like your hat plenty.” I say, unable to stop giggling against his lips.

“Good because it’s the only goddamn hat you’re gonna get.” He says, his voice rough.

AN: Hope you enjoyed reading!

Also I might write another Rick Flag fic using the speech from this fic so keep an eye out.

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tooti-fruiti · 11 months ago

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*taps ur shoulder* There's not enough Inspector Gadget x reader fics and I have an X-Men hyperfixation soooo...

I wanna know your headcanons for Inspector Gadget with a s/o w/ superpowers (your choice, bestie!) 🌼

YIPPEE OKAY!

HQ sees you as a more useful inspector due to your abilities and...being kind of smart.

But since Gadget is your partner, you take him along on your missions and act as his "sidekick"

But life outside of work with Gadget is...very much the same.

He believes that M.A.D will always be up to something and that he can't have time to spend on anything else.

But one kiss from you changes that mindset easily.

After changing his mindset, Gadget likes to sit around on the couch with you and watch movies.

He also knows about your powers and he'll sometimes ask you do to something for him with your powers if he's lazing around with you.

Before you gained Superpowers, you and Gadget were together, but you got kidnapped by Dr. Claw. A LOT.

The only reason that stopped was because one time, Gadget accidentally knocked some chemicals onto you in a lab and you ended up becoming radioactive and had superpowers from it.

Gadget is a little infuriating to be with, but his sweetness makes up for it.

And since he doesn't realize you are better than him, he's not upset with you having powers.

That's all I got for now! Hope you enjoyed!

#inspector gadget #headcanons

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askaniritual · 10 months ago

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i guess i can just like. admit i was reading hazbin hotel fic. not because i want to but due to the way that i am.

its bad in there. like BAD. the top fic is an x reader fic. everybody in there wants to fuck alastor??? and then sometimes the way that gets articulated its like are you sure youre not getting him confused with gambit from the x men because why is he suddenly talking like hes from the bayou?¹ the onceler-fucker energy of it all gives me hivessss

im sure the tag is growing and i would b very interested to see what the top pairing ends up being because currently its alastor/angel and good lorddddd is that a stretch. go-go-inspector gadget extender arm level reaching. im kind of assuming itll be overtaken by husk/angel eventually tho since that seems to be trending in the more canon direction. i dont care for either of those pairings but whatever

anyway where i was going with this is theres a fic on like. the third page with like 2k kudos thats just straight up cannibal vore. i clicked on it because i saw the tags and i was like. aint no way. but yep!!! it is. fucking insane

---

footnotes:

i understand he is canonically from louisiana that is not my point

#washed up motel #i guess

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king-candy-lovemail · 1 year ago

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ACE VENTURA X READER chapter 6

warnings: brief mention of blood and violence (not against reader)

a quiet 'meow' and a paw on your face woke you up with ease. your eyes opened slightly, and you saw callie snuggling close to you. a small grin made its way onto your face, and you scratched her behind the ears.

"g'morning, baby," you cooed softly, your voice still thick with tiredness. you heard a throat clear from behind you.

"well, as much as i wish that were me, we gotta get going."

you jumped, shooting out of bed and whirling around to meet eyes with that damn pet detective.

"what time is it?!" you hissed, and ace picked up the alarm clock.

"relax," he began, "it's only 6:30. you have half an hour to get ready, your highness," he sneered. you breathed a sigh of relief, pushing past ace briskly.

"where's your bathroom?" you asked, and he pointed past the living room and to the right of the kitchen, where there was a closed door. you smiled at him, a genuine smile, before making your way over.

ace sat down on the bed next to callie, petting her gently. "what's got you so captivated with them..." he wondered aloud, and callie only purred in return. ace sighed, bringing the cat up to his eye level. "makes sense. i feel the same way."

you were sure to be quick with your morning routine. surprisingly enough, ace had remembered everything on your list. you felt a warm fuzziness settle in your stomach, which you scoffed at.

c'mon, he's just being nice. you're a client, after all.

after slipping in and out of the shower, you realized you hadn't set out a towel. goddammit!

"a-ace!" you called out, voice breaking. you were shocked by a sudden whoosh! of the door opening, and there stood the man, face quickly flushing red as he saw you.

"CLOSE THE DOOR, YOU IDIOT!" you cried, and he quickly slammed the door.

"w-what did you... need?" he strangled out. you had to stifle a laugh; so that's what it took to really embarrass him?

"i need a towel. right now." you heard quick footsteps, before the door slightly cracked open. you chirped out a thank you before taking the soft towel in your hands, wrapping it around your body.

you made your way out of the bathroom (ignoring ace's obvious staring) into your temporary bedroom, where your outfit was laid out on the bed.

briskly changing, you picked up callie. she rubbed against your blazer without regard, and you brought her into the living room with you.

"ace! i'm ready to get this show on the road," you announced, setting callie down gently as he emerged from the kitchen.

"then vámonos, amigo," he said smoothly, whipping random sunglasses out of his pocket and sliding them on his face before he strutted out of his door.

"bye callie, be good, baby! i loooove you!" you sang, thinking no one had heard you. ace, still standing at the entrance, smirked to himself.

this time, ace drove. as unhinged as his driving was, it actually helped to calm your nerves. you talked with him over what the plan was for today.

"you go in there, get as much information as you can gather without asking questions. be as observant as you possibly can be- got it?" ace affirmed, and for once you felt the seriousness in his tone.

you nodded, giving him a thumbs up. "got it, sir!" you chided. he rubbed the back of his neck, turning his face away from you.

"really, dear, keep the nicknames for the bedroom," he teased. you chuckled a bit, shaking your head.

"shut up! you're the one who's acting all serious for once!" you complained. his grin never faltered, and he skidded into a narrow parking space, just missing arthur's car.

"LIKE A GLOVE!" he shouted, and you could only laugh at his antics. ace felt his heart swell slightly at eliciting a true, genuine laugh from you.

as you exited the car, shutting the door softly, you leaned back into the car door, opening your mouth to say something. ace watched as your eyes flittered around the car, before grabbing your briefcase.

"see ya later, inspector gadget!" you called, waving goodbye obnoxiously. he shook his head, backing out of the lot based only on vibes.

the mood was offset as soon as you stepped foot into the office. everyone seemed to look your way, but you didn't allow your nerves to triumph. you held your head high, making your way into arthur's office.

"arthur, how's the w-" you were cut off suddenly as you saw arthur, head in his hands at his desk. your vision then focused on milton, wiping a bloody nose and nursing a black eye while leaning over your desk.

"what the hell?!" you shrieked, looking between the two men. arthur barely looked up at you, gesturing for you to leave the office. you briskly exited, not wanting to get on his bad side.

outside you and arthur's shared workspace, you leaned against the wall. your foot tapped impatiently, waiting for either your boss or milton to emerge.

the door slammed, and milton crept out.

"milton, what the hell happened in there?!" you cried. he inhaled sharply, before turning away from you and walking in the opposite direction. you shrugged, peering into the window of arthur's office. you made eye contact with him, and he motioned for you to come back inside.

you stood there in silence, waiting for any instruction from arthur. he sighed, before saying, "y/n, come take a seat in front of my desk."

you did so immediately, not wanting to piss him off further. you waited patiently for any sort of explanation.

"if you're wondering what happened to milton, don't worry about it. just know, he's always trying to play hero. white knight. savior. never looking out for his own good, always sticking his nose in business he's better staying out of. the kid got on my nerves and, well... i lost it." arthur exhaled shakily, and you noticed the remorse in his eyes.

"i almost stabbed his eyes out with this very pen," he muttered, gripping onto the writing utensil in his hand even tighter. his knuckles turned white from the action.

"tomorrow, i'm stepping down from this position. after yesterday, i tried doing some reflection. i know my emotions control me, rather than the other way around. i knew it was getting out of control; i felt awful for what happened the other day. but after what happened today, i realize now that i need help. i'm quitting, and searching for help professionally."

you clasped your hands together, swallowing hard. arthur continued. "you know, you're like my own child, y/n. your work ethic, your patience, your integrity. just like me at that age; but, you're a better person than i was. you don't have the bitter mood swings, the anger issues. all i want is the best for you, and i want to give this office a supervisor they can trust. i want to make the right decision," arthur choked out, slamming the pen against the desk. "i'm not going to hurt more people, for as long as i live."

you cleared your throat, beginning to speak up. "mr. fieldpool, what you're doing is incredibly brave. a-and when you find, um... solace?... there'll always be a place here for you," you finished solemnly. he nodded, thoughtful.

"thank you, y/n. now, go catch up on work. i apologize for... distracting you."

the rest of the day went off without a hitch, despite the lack of usual chatter around the workplace and the looks trained on you constantly.

by the time the end of the day had come, you were more than ready to leave.

"ace!" you shouted, greeting the man leaning against the car, waiting for you. he swiped off his sunglasses, meeting your eyes.

"y/n, pleasure to see you again! we best be on our way, yes?" he asked, eyes trained on someone behind you. you ignored the urge to turn around, feeling it was for the best.

"yeah, let's get this show on the road, baby!" you hollered, throwing your hands up in the air. you hopped in the car, fastening your seatbelt. ace soon joined you.

"who is," ace started, pointing nonchalantly, "that guy?" he asked. your eyes followed his finger, landing on milton. he was still standing in the doorway, getting ready to slip back inside, thanks to the cold night breeze.

"oh, that's one of my coworkers! his name's milton; he's the one who has the thing for me, one of the suspects." ace nodded.

"where'd he get the injuries?" ace questioned. you explained to him arthur's breakdown that day, and how he'd be leaving the office.

"woah, woah, woah, what?! he's a prime suspect, though! didn't you press any further?!" ace exclaimed incredulously. you shook your head.

"no, i didn't really feel like bothering him. i did wonder, though, what it was that milton had said to him. milton didn't speak to me the whole day, and everyone gave me weird looks. i'm guessing it had something to do with yesterday," you pondered. ace shrugged.

"well, try to get more from good ol' fieldpool tomorrow. after all, it'll be his last day. you don't have anything to lose."

you nodded, reassured. you looked over at ace for a moment, admiring him while he 'focused' on the road.

"hey, ace?" you finally said, as he pulled into his apartment complex's parking lot. he hummed, signalling you to continue.

"thanks for all your help," you whispered, voice breaking a little. he smiled slightly, taking off his sunglasses.

"y/n, it's my duty to help fellow animal lovers such as yourself. i promise, i won't rest until snuffy is found."

with that vow, you made your way back inside to get ready for the night.

tomorrow at work, you were getting answers.

what you didn't realize is they weren't answers you wanted at all.

#ace ventura x reader #ace ventura #ace ventura pet detective #gender neutral reader #x reader #clarice fic #gn reader #reader insert #ace x reader

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thembofics · 1 year ago

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Welcome to the Blog! 🦋

My name is Lily (she/they). I'm 24, Black & Indian, and I love writing fanfics! My current blorbos are Namor, Steven Grant, Bucky Barnes, Dr. Claw (don't judge me), and King Magnifico.

Here are a few things you should know about this blog:

General Information:

I mostly write for Black and Desi readers. Otherwise, Y/N's appearance is left up to the reader's imagination.

I want to keep it PG on this blog.

What I'll write:

Fluff

Angst

Angst with a happy ending (I'm a sucker for this trope)

Romance

Platonic relationships

What I won't write:

Smut (I'm not against it, but I don't think my writing skills are up to par with it. And I get uncomfortable every time I try to write smut)

Extreme violence/gore (I'm very squeamish)

Links!! ^_^

Masterlist

Characters I Write For - I mostly write for Disney and Marvel. But if you don't see a character from any of the fandoms listed (i.e. Steve Rogers or Jafar) and you still want to send a request, just let me know and I'll see what I can do.

#fanfiction #blog rules #guidelines #about me #introductory post #marvel x reader #disney x reader #x reader #x you #x y/n #y/n #aladdin x reader #aladdin x y/n #reader insert #star wars x reader #inspector gadget x reader #kingdom hearts x reader #the arcana x mc #the arcana x reader

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cloves-shenanigans · 5 months ago

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YIPPEE it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these

Favorite color: You’d never guess (/j), but a nice blue in the cyan/cobalt gradient. Purple is a very close second though, I am a sucker for a nice lilac or violet

Last song: …. Inspector Gadget Theme. I. There is a reason.

Currently Reading: Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, I am SPEEDING this thing on Webtoon until I’m caught up, then I’m gonna pick up the novel

Currently Watching: I’m rewatching My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and I’m at season 4 episode 3 :]

Currently Craving: Sleep, if I’m gonna be honest 😓 or berry blue Jell-o. oh man I could so go for that right now

Coffee or Tea: Depends- if it’s morning, then coffee (I have decaf because I like the taste + placebo effect usually works), but if it’s afternoon/evening/night, then peach tea.

A hobby I’d like to try: Honestly? Fursuit making, something like a head or paws. It seems fun! :3

An AU/Alternate Universe I’ve been plotting for: Maybe I haven’t actively doing anything for it, but I’ve been thinking a lot about a TSPUD x IEYTD crossover AU for a while now. Stanley and the Narrator as an Agent/Handler duo would go so hard tbh, I just have to get around to drawing it sometime

Thank you for tagging me!! o7

Tags:

@applesafterlife

@mariiiibug

@eyesofrhodochrosite

Get To Know Me tag game

@wyvchard tagged me for this! Making a new post since the reblog chain was getting long

It has been a minute since I last did one of these, lol

Favorite color: Blue! Green is a close second

Last Song: Bring on the Monsters - Lightning Thief: The Percy Jackson Musical

Currently Reading: Too many fics to list. As for books, I'm reading The Nine Eyes of Lucien by Madeleine Roux (very good so far!)

Currently Watching: Nothing in particular (though I should be catching up on CR-)

Currently Craving: Nothing? Well, maybe Cheddar Bay Biscuits, but I have a couple on my plate with my breakfast, so that'll be resolved shortly, lol

Coffee or Tea: Tea, 100%. I don't even particularly enjoy the smell of coffee, let alone the taste. I also don't need to risk the caffeine knocking me out (gotta love ADHD weirdness)

A hobby I would like to try: I'd like to give archery a try! There are a lot of folks who've done it in my family (including both my parents, and I believe both my grandmothers; I know for a fact my Mimi did it competitively for a while when she was young)

An AU/Alternate universe I've been plotting for: Ash and Shadow I guess technically counts, since it's canon-divergent. As for something more solidly AU, I'm playing around with Radio Host Phoenix in the background while working on chapters for Ash and Shadow (thanks to @agent-calivide for that brain worm, lol)

As for other tags: @definitelyunhingedagentphoenix @kitkatyes and @sciencewife if you folks are interested!

#if yall don’t mind the tags🙏#long post

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circethesinner · 2 years ago

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the puppeteer ✿ roses - chapter 19 ✿

pairing: steve harrington x original female character (can be read as x reader)

warning(s): strong language, descriptions of violence, mature themes

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previous chapter ━ ✿ ━ next chapter

masterlist

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“Okay! Okay! Fuck, marry, kill; He-Man, Fred from Scooby-Doo, and Inspector Gadget.” Bambi practically cackled as Steve groaned at the hypothetical.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore!” He complained, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. It bounced off of her forehead and went down the front of her top. Not one to waste food, she fished it out and ate it.

“You have to answer! It’s the rules of-” Bambi was interrupted by the phone ringing. She snapped her head over to it and checked the clock stationed on the wall above it. “It’s 11pm. Who the fuck is calling at 11pm?” She groaned, throwing her head back in annoyance.

“Well, if you answer, you can find out,” Steve told her as he shovelled down a mouthful of popcorn. They were on their third bag that night already.

“Can’t you do it?” She pleaded, doing her best to give him puppy-dog eyes.

“No way! What if it’s George?” He pointed out. “If he realises I’m here at all, let alone at night, he’ll flip.” Bambi groaned, knowing he made a good point. She got up and answered the phone, but she wasn’t going to sugarcoat herself. Whoever it was didn’t deserve a polite greeting at that hour.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” She questioned. Her voice sounded so hostile she was almost taken aback by it herself.

“Well, hello to you too, Oakes,” A man’s voice she didn’t recognise at first spoke across the phone. Either way, it wasn’t George.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” She repeated, rolling her eyes as Steve mouthed, ‘who is it?’. She covered the mouthpiece. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking, dipshit.” He mouthed a ‘sorry’ as the person over the phone started speaking again.

“Oh, come on, you really don’t recognise me?” Dread filled her as she scraped her mind for who it could be. What if it was someone from the lab? “Not even after our lovely conversation the other day?” Bambi couldn’t figure out who it was. Had a customer from the diner gotten their personal number and taken her customer service as flirting? “Clearly, whoever you are, you didn’t make an impression on me,” She sighed, leaning against the wall as Steve pulled stupid faces to try and make her laugh. “So either you tell me who you are and what you want now, or I’m hanging up.”

“Need a clue, Bee?” The caller asked. Bambi groaned as she realised there was only one person recently who had tried to call her ‘Bee’.

“Hargrove, how the fuck did you get my number?” Bambi watched as Steve stopped pulling faces when she’d said the name.

“Tommy gave it to me,” Billy said nonchalantly.

“Well, who gave Tommy my number? Because I sure as shit didn’t give it to him!” She asked. She tried to remember an instance in which she’d maybe accidentally given it to him in a moment of stupidity or drunkenness, but nothing sprung to mind. She’d purposely avoided giving it to him or Carol as she didn’t want to talk to them unless she had to.

“He said Steve gave it to him,” Billy replied. Bambi’s face soured, and she looked at the culprit who was lying across her couch.

“Oh, did he now?” She glared at him, and his eyes widened in realisation. He shrunk down and hid behind the arm of the couch to escape her eyes. If looks could kill, he’d be 6ft under already. “Ugh, whatever! What do you want? Why are you calling me at 11pm?” There was no good reason for Billy to be calling her at any time, let alone so late at night.

“Why are you so hostile?” Billy asked mockingly. “Maybe I just wanted to talk to you? I mean, our conversation was cut short the other night, so-” “Well, I’m cutting this one short too. Don’t call me again,” Bambi hung up the phone. It rang again almost straight away, so she picked it up. “Billy, I swear to fucking god, if you call me one more time, I will drive a sledgehammer so far up your ass that it comes out of your mouth!”

“Who’s Billy?” Bambi’s heart sunk as she recognised the voice on the other end, who was certainly not Billy. “Hi George!” She tried to sound cheerful in hopes he’d drop it. “How are you? How’s the diner?”

“It’s fine. Bobbie has broken his ankle as well as his foot, so I might be here for a week or two longer than planned,” George sighed. “Now, who is Billy and why are you threatening to shove a sledgehammer up his ass?”

“Just some asshole from school I’m not interested in talking to, no big deal,” Bambi tried to play it off as best as she could.

“Right, well, he can’t be any worse than that Harrington boy,” He grumbled. “Everything okay back in Hawkins? No more demowhatsists appeared?”

“No, no more Demogorgans,” Bambi laughed. “I doubt we’ll ever see one of those things again… At least, I hope not.”

“Well, you call me if you need me back there any sooner, okay?” He requested.

“Don’t be silly. Who will hold down the old fort?” She asked.

“I’m sure Sally would be okay for a few days,” He didn’t sound like he believed what he was saying. “It would be a tearful few days, and I’d never hear the end of it, but she could do it. Anyway, I just called to let you know that I’d be gone a little longer than planned. I’ll let you go now.”

“Thank you! Bye George! Love you!” Bambi started to pull the phone away from her ear as she spoke.

“Yeah, yeah, you too,” George mumbled. She was just about to hang up when he got in a final sentence. “Sledgehammer is behind my nightstand if you need it.” Bambi laughed as she hung the phone back on the hook.

“What did Billy want?” Steve asked, peering out from over the arm of the couch.

“Fuck if I know, and I don’t really care to find out if he’s going to be a dick about it… Speaking of being a dick….” Bambi walked over to the couch to stand over Steve. She looked down at him with her hands on her hips, as he shrunk further into the cushions to avoid her. “I need you to think very carefully about your answer here because it will decide how hard I’m going to slap you… Why the hell would you give Tommy my number?”

“It was months ago. I was drunk and stupid,” Steve groaned, hiding his face in his hands in shame. “We wanted you to join us at the party, so I gave him your number so he could call, but then George picked up because you were round the Byer’s house that night to look after Will, and I forgot, and George swore and shouted at Tommy, and I think it scared him so we never called again and I just assumed he’d gotten rid of your number, but I guess he didn’t and I’m really sorry!” Bambi sighed as Steve babbled on. Once he’d finished, she reached down and messed up his hair, an action he hated. It was a small sense of revenge, but it was enough for Bambi.

“I’ll forgive you if you give me Tommy’s number,” Steve looked perplexed by this request until Bambi explained. “I’m going to agree to go to one party round his, and I’m going to get George to call him while I’m there and chew him out so I can see his stupid little face when he shits himself, and then he and Carol will never invite me to a party again because they’ll be scared of getting another call.”

“Deal!” Steve responded in a heartbeat. Bambi grinned and sat down on the couch on top of the end of his outstretched legs as he was taking up all of the space. She grabbed the remote and unmuted the television so they could return to their second night in a row watching reruns of The Price is Right.

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“They wouldn’t have skipped town without telling us, right?” Bambi asked, leaning against the side of the school. Steve had found her at lunch to relay to her what Tommy and Billy were telling him in the locker room. “I mean, at least Nancy would have told me, right? It’s not like we had a fight. I’m mad at Jonathan, not her.” She admittedly had taken Steve’s side in it all and hadn’t spoken to Nancy since the party. It wasn’t that she was avoiding her. She just hadn’t seen her at all. Nancy had missed the first few classes the day before when Steve didn’t pick her up, and Bambi and Steve ditched the afternoon so she skipped math class where she would have usually been sat next to Nancy. Though according to the rumours, Nancy and Jonathan also skipped out that afternoon, so even if she attended class it wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

“You’re bullshit too, remember?” Steve pointed out, though he cringed at his own words as soon as they slipped out of his mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t think you’re bullshit… It’s just… it’s what Nancy said.”

“Steve, it’s okay, I know,” Bambi did her best to give a supportive smile. “I don’t think you’re bullshit either.” He didn’t say anything in response to that, but she knew him well enough to read his facial expressions and body language and know that he appreciated it.

“Do you think…” Steve started. Bambi watched as he struggled to find the words. “Do you think they’re together? Like… together together?”

“I don’t think I know enough to make any sort of judgement on that. I’m sorry,” Bambi sighed as she watched Steve run a hand through his hair. She knew that was a sign of stress. Usually, he wouldn’t dare mess up his hair, but his mind was preoccupied. “Did you and Nancy break up? Like actually break up?”

“Well, nothing was specified,” He shrugged. “Just… implied, I guess?”

“Did you want to break up her?” Bambi asked. “Was that your intention when you talked to her?”

“Yes! No!... Maybe?” Steve groaned. “I don’t know! If she doesn’t love me, then yeah, I guess I do.”

“You guess you do, or you do?” She questioned but decided it was better to let him figure it out in his own time instead of pressuring him to decide there and then. “On the way home after class, we’re going to go to the store to grab some more popcorn and some roses for her. Then you can decide if you want to give them to her or not when you’re ready.”

“Really, roses? Isn’t that cliche?” Steve asked with a frown.

“Hell yeah, it’s a cliche!” She laughed. “It’s a cliche because it works. Girls love romantic cliches!”

“Do you love romantic cliches?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“Of course I do!” She cheered with a grin. “If a guy showed up at my door with roses, I’d be his in a second, I swear.”

“Really?” Steve looked at her like he was considering something. “You don’t seem like a roses girl.”

“What do I seem like then?” Bambi asked with a smirk, awaiting a joke answer.

“Snapdragons,” He told her after a pause. She was pleasantly surprised and moved by the genuine answer he’d given. “And chocolates.”

“If a guy got me chocolates, I would get down on my knees right there and suck-” Bambi was laughing through her words when Steve interrupted.

“Woah, woah, woah! Too much information!” He protested, holding his hands up and waving them around as if physically fighting off the words. “I wouldn’t even want to know what you’d do if you were given two boxes of chocolates.”

“Oh easy! I’d-” Bambi groaned as the bell rung, signalling it was time for their next lesson. “I need to get to Physics class since Mrs Connely said she’d make me repeat the year if I’m late again, and it’s bad enough having to do it once. I’ll meet you after class.”

“Don’t forget to tell me if you get a detention this time, okay?” Steve asked her.

“Yeah, yeah, I make no plans to get detention, don’t worry!” Bambi assured him.

“Please remember to tell me if you do!” He repeated. “I’m not waiting by the car for you for 45 minutes like I did last time, or the time before that, or the time before that!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell you if I get one this time,” She rolled her eyes. “I’d hug you, but I have a street cred to uphold.”

“No one with street cred uses the word uphold or refers to it as ‘street cred’, and there’s no one here to see,” He pointed out, grabbing her arm and pulling her in for a hug. Bambi didn’t even try to pretend to resist it. She just hugged him back. He held on for longer than he usually did when they hugged, and normally Bambi wouldn’t have an issue with this, but she wasn’t lying about her teacher threatening to hold her back a year if she was late.

“Okay, let me go now, or I’m absolutely going to get detention,” She pleaded. They released one another, and Bambi left for class, but not before she quickly ruffled his hair which he yelled at her for as she sped off cackling.

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okay I wanna say now why billy keeps on trying to talk to bambi since it's not really going to be mentioned explicitly in the story and I don't want y'all assuming things - it's not because he's got a crush on her or anything like that, it's because of steve

he wants to knock 'king steve' off of his throne, and since he and bambi are so close she's just another target. he's already gotten tommy and carol away from him, so he wants to pull her away too

so there's that lmaoo

likes are very much appreciated and I will give each and every one of you little kisses on the forehead for each comment you write :)

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taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)

@missyviolet123 @littlet-holmes @buzzybee111 @preciousbabypeter @youmakemyhearthowl

#steveharrington #fanfic #fanfiction #strangerthings #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x reader

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wattpadscapcons · 3 years ago

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I just realized I don’t think I’ve ever requested a fic before, just HCs,,,

how about a short fluffy fic with pregame kokichi x GN!reader binge watching Disney movies?

~🕷

Sure thing Norman! Why not? I love me some Disney.

Disney Movies (Pregame Kokichi x Reader)

"You've literally never watched a Disney movie before?"

"Nope. Not one. I never seemed all that interested when I had Danganronpa."

"Well, that changes today. We're watching Disney movies today."

"So long as you stay in one spot for once, then fine, I'll stay and watch them with you. It's not like I'm going to say no to spending more time with you anyways."

"YESSS! Wait here I have them upstairs."

"Why can't we just watch them on your tv?"

"Because the last time we tried that you fell asleep after half an hour."

"Hey, it's not my fault that you make a great pillow!"

You just threw him a smile before moving upstairs, grabbing the box of Disney movies that you'd collected over the summer. There has to be something he'd be interested in.

"That's quite the collection you have there."

"Yeah, I just really love the movies."

"I can tell, so what are we starting with beloved?"

"Mmm...That's a difficult question."

"Ok, then I'll make it easy. I'll cover my eyes and pick one at random."

"Fair enough."

He ended up picking "Sleeping Beauty" through this method. Then followed by Lilo & Stitch, Ice Age, Finding Nemo, Fantasia, and Bolt before he started making you pick. He'd make comments during a lot of the movies usually praising or questioning what he was watching.

"You do realize that's not how Sleeping Beauty is woken up in the book right?"

"You read the original story?"

"Was forced to, school."

"What is Stitch supposed to be again?"

"An alien."

"Well he needs a redesign, he's too friendly looking to be an alien."

"That squirrel never gets a break does he?"

"You should see him in the other movies."

"There are more?"

"Four more main movies, two spin-offs."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Dory is such an airhead."

"She has short-term memory."

"Still, she's extremely dense."

"........."

"Why are you giving me that look?"

"There's no voice acting in this."

"It's just music mainly."

"Don't think I've ever seen a movie like this before...."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I mean...it's different, not exactly bad..."

"I want that dog."

"So do I."

"Imagine having a dog that's a famous actor, that would be awesome."

"You just want a dog."

"Maybe...."

"I'm bored with picking all the movies, it's you turn."

"Well how about we watch the princess movies now?"

"Whatever you want."

He fell asleep on you again somewhere around midnight. This is to be expected when binging so many movies in a single day. He seemed to really enjoy most of the movies much to his own surprise.

It's of no surprise that he preferred a particular set of movies, "Beauty and the Beast", "Bolt", and "Aladdin" being some of his favorites for the animated series.

He made a comment about Kagehara when you two watched "Inspector Gadget".

"Bet Shumai would like this. I'm gonna send him a YouTube link real quick to see what he thinks."

"Kichi, you're missing the movie, put your phone down."

He got pissed off when watching "Bambi" and had to leave the room. You probably should've skipped that movie altogether.

"Let me know when the movie's over with. I'm going to go watch YouTube."

"Kichi! I can just switch the movie!"

#pregame kokichi x reader #pregame kokichi ouma x reader #pregame kokichi #pregame #pregame drv3 #danganronpav3 #danganronpa #pregame drv3 headcanons #pregame ouma #danganronpa killing harmony #kokichi ouma #danganronpa kokichi #drv3 kokichi

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cloudninetonine · 4 years ago

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Cogito, ergo sum

Chapter: 2

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x fem!reader

A/N: Hey guys! I want to apologise for the long wait between chpaters but seeing as I’m on my last year of college my school work is coming before everything else so it’s a little hard working between them! Don’t worry, I’m not dropping this series or anything just expect chapters to take a little long to be loaded and everything! Also, this chapter seems a little too far paced for me, so sorry about that as well!

Tags at the bottom once again!

I do not own Detroit become human this is merely fanficion

Warnings: Bad language, physical assault, threats (?), hints of abuse, (Name) being weird like always, also angry (Name), mentions of drugs, there’s a bit of slander against drug abusers that I do not condone!

Undercut babes!

It’s fascinating, it really is, the way her beautiful gaze follows you as you round her, studying her feverishly, your eyes wide and bright.

She’s...well, words cannot describe her. Her beauty lies beyond your imagination and you’re not quite equipped to say anything that her magnificent ears deserve to hear, your words are below her and she’s just-

Wow.

“Ms (Last), please-”

You raise your hand towards the younger engineer, silencing with a small utter of ‘hush’ and he’s shutting his mouth, falling back to the side of your desk with not much else to say.

The android you’ve been un-shamelessly ogling for the past 10 solid minutes is still very quiet, she’s just watching you in her manufactured attire, shy, nervous, scared- everything you really wish she wasn’t right now because there is no way you want her to see you as some sort of threat, far from it.

“Henry” Turning back towards the engineer, he stiffs up like a board, sweat forming on his brow “Why didn’t you dismantle her?”

It’s rude, it’s horrible to say and it sours your mouth when you form those words, but it’s an honest question, you want to know why someone would do this, keep her alive, see her for all her glory.

The public spoke strongly about their opinions of androids, like toys to be played with, slaves to be worked, not the thing you so desperately wanted people to see them as. The masterpieces that stood beyond human comprehension.

The android lets out a noise similar to a whimper as Henry stammers out.

“I-I couldn’t she- um- I-” Finally, he sighs with frustration, Henry makes eye contact with you “She said was scared and...I couldn’t”

You snap back to face her.

“Is that true?”

She hesitates, one second, two seconds, three seconds, four- it takes a whole 30 seconds before she’s finally responding. “Yes…”

Your chest bursts in excitement.

“You’re incredible” Henry deflates in relief, placing a hand against your desk while you grasp her cheeks, her warm grey eyes glancing between your two hands then meet your own stare, confused. “Amazing, beautiful, fantastic, so, so much more”

“...thank you”

You sniff, then you’re pulling away, trying to keep your tears abay. You really can’t believe that your work has gone so far, that new forms of sentient are evolving from a human’s hand, you’re so overjoyed by it all but you’re also kind of realising how weird you’re being.

“Sorry, I’m becoming the creepy stereotypical scientist, let me just-” Pulling off your lab coat, you throw it over her shoulders, pulling it tighter around her for her dainty hands to grasp and hold, a smile growing on her face in gratitude. You’re really still in awe of it all but send her a giddy smile back “Henry get Kamski I’m sure he’s gonna love this”

When the man disappears, closing the office door behind him, you guide her to a chair, kneeling before her kindly.

“Tell me” She waits patiently for you to continue “What’s your name?”

When she opens her mouth, you interrupt her, grasping her hands “No, not the name you were given, the name you have chosen. What is your name?”

You’re at the beginning of history right here, you can already see the books that are yet to be written, all starting at this very moment, with you and her. This android, this amazing, piece of living metal, is the start of something great and you can’t wait to be a part of it.

“My name is….”

-----------

“(Name), I’m sorry, but there isn’t really anything I can do”

Your hands come down on the desk, expression unbelieving.

“But he attacked Ortiz in self defence, it’s not fair for him to be shipped to Cyberlife! That hellhole already has enough test subjects with other deviants, why can’t he be let go!?” Pushing yourself back up, you drag your hands down your face in exasperation “He’s a victim! He was defending himself, why can’t we let him off with a lesser offence?”

Billie sighs, shutting the file softly. “Because in the eyes of the law, he’s not a victim. He’s property and there isn’t much we can do about that. Besides, because Ortiz is dead, his ownership basically goes back to Cyberlife, so they have the authority to take him back”

Billie’s right, you know that they’re right, but it’s just so frustrating, so vexing that this is the case. An android, in the eyes of society, is nothing more than their components, why should they be given the same privilege as those who eat, shit and breathe?

Billie may be a judge, but they didn’t make the law.

You remember years ago, when something like this would have been seen as detestable, that the masses would have stood up to fight this kind of horror, but for some reason, with age came stupidity and ignorance it seemed. What the fuck had happened to you all?

You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again before huffing, taking the file from their desk and ripping your coat off the hanger.

“I’m sorry, (Name)!” Billie calls and you wave them off, shouting back a ‘Don’t worry about it’ then close their office.

The courthouse is only a few blocks away from the precinct, a good walk away, a good way to calm yourself down until you’re having to face the frustration that comes in with having to work in such a high strung place. It’s funny really, you used to say ACAB when you were younger, still believed it too, so it’s really a wonder as to why you joined, but then again sometimes to make change you have to become the very thing you hate-

“Detective (Last)-”

You scream, almost dropping your files and jumping a meter within the air. Passerbys don’t even spare you a glance, a generation raised on the weirdest websites like Vine, Tiktok, Youtube and god forbid, Tumblr, have them desensitised to whatever shit people like to play at now-a-days.

“Oh my God, Inspector Gadget” A hand falls to your chest, checking your racing heartbeat “You can’t just sneak up on a bitch like that”

Connor, the big old puppy, tilts his head in mild confusion “But I called your name twice, detective”

Oh.

“What are you doing here, Connor?”

The android joins your side and you continue your way. “Lieutenant Anderson informed me that you were heading to the courthouse, so I decided to come and brief you about a new case”

A new case, of course a new case, deviancy keeps popping up all over the country rapidly but you can’t hold your surprise about the fact that it’s been a few days and there’s already a new case.

“Deadass?”

Wait, you hadn’t mean to say that-

His eyes narrow “Deadass?”

A snort escapes you “Oh my God I can’t believe you just said that, it sounds so cursed coming from your mouth. I meant, seriously?”

You swear on your life, on everything that may be above and so much more, that the android lets out a laugh when he continues, explaining the details as you finally enter the office.

You realise, as he talks, you feel a whole lot lighter than you had earlier.

-----------

“This guy is as scummy as it gets”

Unfortunately, you can’t help but agree. Todd Williams is about as charismatic as a dumpster fire, messy hair, messy face, stained clothing and the stench of alcohol clung when you finally met him, having to hold back a wince of disgust.

You don’t usually speak ill of others, but you know his type, from the way he carries himself to the way he speaks. You’ve had to face men like him before, his whole demeanor brings back bad memories and you’re so glad that you’re not the one having to get details from him, to have to speak to him.

One thing’s for sure though, you don’t blame whatever deviant decided to book it from him.

“Why doesn’t he just...get a refund from Cyberlife?” You take a sip of your milkshake, staring at Hank, Connor and Mr Williams who looked to be ending off their conversation. “They do that for deviants, don’t they?”

Yes, if you remember, the new flashy CEO of the hell corp spoke it for all to see, that deviance is guaranteed to offer you your cash back.

How inhumane it all sounded.

Gavin scoffs, drinking his coffee “You think a guy like that cares about refunds?”

No. You know why he’s doing it. It’s all about power for fuckers like that.

Mr Williams leaves, Hank is looking through his notes, Connor is heading your way, probably to refer all the information back to you and Gavin is taking in a breath to start his bullshit again, despite your civilness that you had been sharing.

Eh, peace was never an option-

“Your metal boyfriend is heading this way”

The noise you make isn’t human, it’s a mix of a wheeze and scream, like you’ve just choked on the air your breathing and in all honesty, you have, but you’re not letting that mother fucker get away with catching you off guard, especially when he starts laughing.

“Shut up, furry”

Your actually feel the air from his head snapping towards you. “I’m not a fucking furry, quit fucking saying it!”

You pat his shoulder “It’s alright, Reed, we all know you wrote yiff fiction in your spare time-”

You dodge his fist, running away from his red, angered face and petty insults, dragging Connor away from the break room to the side, all while laughing up a storm.

Having your attention on the android again brings back Gavin’s words, his tease of ‘boyfriend’ which makes your face heat up, in what? You’re not quite sure, but it’s enough to make Connor notice your oddity.

“What were you and Detective Reed-”

“Nothing” You cackle, patting down his shoulders to distract yourself “He’s just being an arsehole again, nothing to worry yourself over”

And worry himself he didn’t, because he couldn’t of course, android and all.

Connor was quick to fill you in, an AX400 by the name of Kara had stolen (the word kidnapped comes to mind but you know that the robot detective will just ‘correct’ you on your wording) another android, Mr William’s ‘daughter’, model YK500 named Alice after assaulting him the night before. Mr Williams had been knocked out after the ordeal, as to why it had taken him so long to report it.

“Were there any signs of assault that you could see? Ones that could lead to a potential take down or unconsciousness?” Connor takes a moment before shaking his head “Yeah, I didn’t think so”

What a lying fuck.

“Let’s head to the briefing room”

Hank is there, as well as a whole group of other police officers, talking amongst themselves as you situate yourself behind the podium, screen remote in hand and smiling brightly. Your partners are at your side, Connor in his usual stoic stance while the old fart has his arms crossed, bored as always and you’re ready to debrief the many uniforms but they keep talking, even after you clear your throat.

You’re not one to get angry at being talked over, annoyed, yes, but anger leads you nowhere with a crowd, so instead, you use your most favourite tactic to date

“Pay attention to me or I am gonna start screaming people” You sing. Not a threat, but a promise. “And you all know I will screech like mother fucker”

The room is silent in the next second.

“Great! So-”

The door to the room bursts open.

“Fucking really-”

“Detective (Last)'' It's the front office assistant and by the looks of it, he is panicked, worried even, as he addresses you. You suddenly feel your stomach knot up “I’m sorry, but there’s been an emergency with your relative Carl Manfred”

You swallow, hard. “What?”

The meeting ends right then and there.

-----------

Hank hurls to a stop right outside the entrance. You’re already halfway out of the car when he shuts off the vehicle, Connor is taking off his seatbelt and you’re already racing down the soaked concrete path to the front door, rain pelting down on you.

You barely feel it though.

You startle the receptionist when you slam your hands down, eyes wide in panic, breathing coming out in fast, short pants and just looking as though you faced the masses to make it to this spot, right in front of her.

“Carl Manfred, he was brought here about an hour ago is he-”

She interrupts “Are you family?”

“Yes, please, I-”

“In what relation do you have to the patient?”

Is she really fucking serious right now? You debated leaning over and strangling your answer out of her, letting her know what kind of fucking pain you could put her through in this very moment-

But the hand that is placed against your back keeps you still. It’s warm and comforting and keeps you from mauling the fucker right out of her chair, though it doesn’t calm your anxiety, no, but at least it’s there.

You turn to see Connor, who nods towards you politely.

Huh, what a twist of events.

Hank leans over from your other side, looking just as angry as you feel, though he keeps his voice civil when he speaks “Listen, her old man’s just had a heart attack, could you drop the formal shit so she can see him?”

Her voice is sharp, just like her stupid fucking face and she snaps back “I can’t let you in unless I know your relation, unless you’d like to be escorted out by security”

Damn, she’s playing with fire and you’re ready to throw oil all fucking over her.

“I don’t fucking think so-” Pulling out your badge, you slam it against the desk, with nothing short of a growl “Police. Now, tell me where my fucking dad is or you’ll regret the next words that come out of your mouth”

You never abuse your power as a cop, it’s inhumane and back in your younger days you sneered at the disgusting police who would use their authority for their own gain, so you hate to admit but the nervous look that crosses her face when she sees your badge and Hank’s when he pulls it out for extra effect scratches an itch you begged to be scratched.

“Floor 3, the front desk will inform you what room”

“Thanks” You spit, already rushing to the elevator, the other two following.

Connor is quiet, to your surprise. Honestly, you expected him to speak out about your behaviour, your attitude, your unprofessionalism, but he says nothing, just trails after the two of you in silence, obediently, just like he was made for.

It’s comforting having him here, even if he’s just following orders.

The next receptionist is kinder than the last (she even scowls at the mention of her coworker) and points down the hallway, to where two officers stand with cups of coffee within their hands. They stiffen in surprise at your arrival, but you pay them no mind, pushing your way into the room where you finally pause, taking in the scene of your beloved father figure, laid still within the bed, pale, heart monitor beeping occasionally.

The doctor by Carl’s side looks up at you. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

Hank and Connor wait outside.

“(Name) (Last), Carl’s daughter and emergency contact” You explain, walking further into the room “Is he- Can I-”

“He’s fine” She explains with a comforting smile “And yes, you can come closer, though the medication has him knocked unconscious so he won’t be talking any time soon”

The relief almost has you collapsing, brings you back from the panic attack that threatens to kick your arse right in front of everyone and you finally breathe normally.

“Thank you, and you are?”

“Dr Collins” Collins offers her hand and you shake it weakly. “Your father is going to be okay, (Name), but he’s going to need a lot of rest. Cardiac arrest at this age can be fatal, so we were lucky that he lived so close”

You nod, tiredly slinking to Carl’s side to drop into the cushion chair, taking his hand in yours. Kissing it lovingly, you place it close to you in comfort, in reassurance.

‘He’s fine, he’s fine, he’s going to be okay-’

“What are you doing here?”

Your anger shoots right back up, as does you head when you turn to look at the doorway.

“Leo” The name is dragged out of your mouth, it’s spoken with a heavy coat of venom and dirt and for all the participants who are about to see this wild shit show, is a clear indication that you’re far from happy to see the man that stood there. “The fuck are you doing here?”

He scoffs “I’m family, what else am I here for?”

“Oh I don’t know,” You’re standing, stalking closer to him with a raged gleam in your eye “To mooch off him a little bit more?”

The tension can be cut with a knife, everyone can see it, feel it, even Connor, who looks ready to intervene at any given moment.

“No, detective” One of the officiers starts, cutting in in hopes to keep you both calm. “He was there when it all happened, he saw everything-”

“He was there?” No, her words only add fuel to the fire and you’re glaring at your brother once again “You were there? The fuck were you there for? You did this?”

“No!”

“Please calm down” Collins cuts in “I understand the anger but the other patients-”

You ignore her, glancing around the area when a thought struck you.

“Where’s Markus?”

Connor’s the first to respond, “Who’s Markus, detective (Last)?”

“Dad’s care bot” A pin drops, no one is speaking, the two cops are quiet, Leo is scowling, but he’s not looking at you and your anger is quickly making room to fear, cold and stabbing when you push again, harsher, angrier “Where the fuck is Markus?”

The second officer speaks this time, hat in his hands and you know what happens next is not going to be good.

“He was leaning over your father when we walked in detective, Mr Leo Manfred told us he attacked him” The man gulps, hesitating. He’s not nervous for what he’s done, no, he’s nervous about the dark look that seems to be slowly taking over your eyes, “I shot him”

A beat goes by. Then another, another, another, another, another-

“Why were you there in the first place?” It’s soft, curious, but the rage behind it is big, your need for an answer is keeping it back “What was the call for?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“Answer the question, officer”

His partner offers up the answer “....A break in, ma’am”

There’s silence, then you nod in understanding.

No one is quick enough to stop you from shoving Leo into the wall, hands wrapped tightly around the lapels of his jacket and holding him up so you can scream at him properly, face feeling hot from anger, eyes wild from rage, practically feral.

“You fucking did this! This is your fault, you good for nothing fuck!” You pull your hand back and punch him right in the face, he’s too in shock to react but everyone else is trying to pull you off “What?! Were you off your shit from snorting that fucking powder again, you damn druggie!? Huh!? HUH!? You high right now, too!?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, (Name), let go!” Hank yells but he’s fucking impressed by your resistance.

“He could have died because of you, you good for nothing cunt! Worthless piece of shit! Now, Markus is fucking dead because of you, the person who was actually fucking taking care of him! This is all your fault! He’s in that hospital bed, because of you! You! Did! This! All for those stupid drugs! You’re fucking pathetic!”

You’re finally tugged off by someone, their arms slipping under your own to stop you from going back at him again. The officers are acting as a wall between you and your brother, Dr Collin’s is checking his nose as blood drips down his face, Leo is still in shock and Hank is leaning over, hands propped onto his knees. That leaves...

“I’m sorry detective (Last), but I’m going to have to restrain you until you calm down”

You scream in frustration and try to fight against it, but damn, you have to admit in a moment of clarity, Connor is fucking strong.

“Lieutenant Anderson, if you could take her legs, we can escort her out of the building without much trouble” Hank huffs something under his breath probably a grunt of ‘fucking android’ but complies, glaring at you when he leans down.

“You kick me and I’ll kick your ass”

Your respect for him makes you comply, but the anger doesn’t stop you from cussing both him and the android out, naming every threat under the sun as they carry you out of the building, back to the car which you are shoved placed into.

“Let me out of this fucking car, Hank!” You bellow, glaring at the man with sharp eyes who stood outside the vehicle, leaning against it “I’ll break this fucking window, I swear to fucking God!”

“You can try, but we both know you won’t!”

Once again, you’re screaming, tugging frantically at the door’s handle that you know is locked, but are way too angered to care right now.

Connor sits by your side, a good distance away to not antagonise you, silent, waiting and watching as you slowly fall from angry to desperate, tears welling within your eyes and falling down your cheeks. It only takes a few more moments for you to stop altogether, your shoulders shaking as you sob, quietly but strong.

The android finally speaks “Detective (Last)-”

You’re on him in a moment, arms wrapped around his frame, face buried into his shoulder, wetting his suit jacket as you cry, shaking.

It’s a new one for Connor. An android built for detective work, to sniff out the bad deviants, to question suspects and actually built with a comforting feature for victims of crimes. But this is a first, a first he’s seen anyone to tears, more importantly, a first of seeing you so broken. Sure, he had seen you defeated those few days ago, but this is different, you’re not trying to hide conflicting feelings behind your bubbly smile and weird jokes, you’re just...crying. Nothing more, nothing less.

His arms are hovering at your sides, hesitant, unsure and it’s not until Hank gestures from outside the car to ‘fucking do something, you stupid machine’ that the protocol finally kicks in, his arms coming to wrap around you securely and comforting, reassuring you through your whimpers.

Connor is a robot, a machine that feels nothing.

But seeing you cry isn’t something he can just let happen.

Software instability.

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Tags: @dillxpixkles @1950schick @pinkittwice @iris-suoh @loveflowsthroughme @thatlonelyalto @starcatcher-kay (ya’ll I’m half asleep if I forgot you in the taglist I am SORRY-)

#connor rk800 #dbh connor #detroit become human connor #dbh hank #detroit become human hank #dbh gavin #detroit become human gavin #dbh carl #detroit become human carl #connor rk800 x reader #connor rk800 imagine #dbh connor x reader #dbh x reader #dbh imagine #dbh #detroit become human #dbh leo #detroit become human leo #cogito ergo sum

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cosplayproblemsposts · 3 years ago

Text

Polkadot Man x M! reader Pt 2

Warning-Vent and a little bit of fluffy.

Summary: you manged to find out the truth but it didn’t help the fact you were still clinging onto something that has been proven true. Abner couldn’t help but comfort you even if you keep on rejecting every advantage. The thinker couldn’t help but feel a sense of justice but also a hint of guilt.

You sat within the bus eating girl scout cookies that you bought against Rick’s thoughts pressured on the cookies. “I can’t believe you actual bought girl scout cookies” Rick pondered on your childish behavior. “Your just jealous for your not stuffing your face” Rick rolls his eyes but smiles and gives you a fist bump.

Cleo grins for Rick stomach growls “And when was the last time you ate Rickie” you tease. Rick huffs and takes the offered cookies and says “Shut up” you hum. More boxes of girl scouts cookies are handed out to everyone expect Nanaue for he doesn’t eat such foods.

“I like strawberry” Abner mumbles to which cause you to trade over your strawberry for his chocolate ones. You gave him a sly wink to which cause him to hide his face with the help of the box.

“Hey why are you afraid of rats?” Cleo asks Robert while you moved and took a sit beside Abner. “Why are you so in love with them ratcatcher 2?, you know what I think?, I think you have serious case of daddy issues” you frowned at Robert. Robert isn’t exactly known as a expressive type and everyone can see it regardless how cold heart he is you know otherwise.

“I have no issues with how much I loved my father” Robert sighs “You remind me of my daughter that’s why I’m here”. You couldn’t help but smile while biting into a cookie. “Why are you afraid of rats?” Cleo once again asks the same question. “My old man. when I was a lad, if I didn’t finish a task right, he would dole out a punishment. And one day, he just locked me in a create for twenty-four hours. And it was full of starving rats”.

You sighed and whistled to gain Roberts attention and threw three cookies at him, he caught all three of them. “As imperfect my father was ,he loved me. I wish I could give that to you”. ‘Don’t worry yeah?, I’m gonna get you out of here alive” Cleo smiles “I’m going to get you alive out of here”.

“What about clock” you hummed “Your oddly quiet” Robert pips up “Oh yes whats your story”. Cleo smiles up at you while Abner turns his attention to how close you were. “I don’t want to bore anyone to death” Rick scoffs “Shut up and tell us, I’m all eyes and ears” you frown at him.

“Uh...where do I start, I was born in may the 18th 1918″ you thought of how you lost your mother. “My mother died after bring me into the world. I was small but strong while my father walked out of my mothers life the moment he found out she was pregnant”. Cleo frowns “So my granddad took me in so all I knew was that I had to live through a time era where if you were caught crying even a little your shamed for it”. Abner places a shy but comforting hand on top of yours “I was different I knew that but different made me strong and I reached for knowledge”.

“I found it easier to keep to myself until Benjamin came along in shape of defending me” you chuckled a little. “He is my childhood friend who glued himself to me from the very beginning, you see we both grew up in the back houses” Cleo frowns out of confusing. “That is what we called them, it’s just houses that were mistaken for apartments” Cleo nods. “I remembered getting into fights with older boys and I was an idiot for believing that I’ll win but I never did” Chris now understand why you protect Abner.

“But I ain’t no coward for I didn’t run away from a fight other then that the old crow wouldn’t let it go” Robert chuckles or something like that. “I would come home all scruffy every two weeks to the crows dismay” Rick nods. “Years past and I was top of my class even tho I caused trouble and had been caned for it” Abner winces at the thought of it. “I enrolled into university but halfway through my second semester I dropped out to join the air force in 1939 August the 18th” you had to take breath. “I had trained enough to find myself within the sky in the midst of 1942 defending my country” you found yourself growing a pit in your stomach and you felt like vomiting.

“I was battling above a filed like nothing had gone wrong in the first place, the very Nazi manged to slash me out of sky” Robert doesn’t know anything about the air force but can see it. “I found myself hurrying to my death until an enemy pilot collided with me but I didn’t meet death instead I found myself two days before the whole entire event”. “Other then that when the fall of Poland had happened I had to be the last to know” You squint at the box of chocolate cookies before you.

“Around the time Benjamin had been set off to Poland and hadn’t returned so when I had been shipped off to Poland, I searched for him” Robert clears his throat. “I think that’s enough” Robert could tell that you didn’t want to go any farther with your side of the story. Abner squeezes your hand and when you notice you move your hand from his to which caused him to shutter away.

“Hey penis-maker, we’re on a mission” Chris makes a face “Easy inspector gadget. A little drink never hurts nobody”. You frowned at the idea but you really need a pick me up so you gone with the flow. “Expect the thousands of people killed in drunk driving accidents every year” Abner commented. You stare at him and could tell he was still a little hurt from you moving away from him.

“Here’s to last three hours of being alive” Robert didn’t agree “I’ll be alive. You speak for yourself”. You drank your drink like a shot and didn’t hesitate to ask for another. You find yourself laughing and watch as Abner gag on his drink to which cause you to pat his back. “Easy there dots, you want to be somewhat sober” Abner nods.

Everyone found themselves dancing with the music blazing in the background. You watch them fail at one of the most simplest thing in the world and you couldn’t help but laugh. “C’mon Y/N join us” Abner spoke while holding out a hand. “No you guys got it handle, I’ll just get in the way” you weren’t an upbeat dancer your more of slow dance type of guy. “No your not, you need this too” You smiled but caved in “Fine”. You took a last swig of your drink before standing up to dance with him.

You held onto Abner’s waist from behind and dance with him, for the truth you weren’t that bad. Abner sways his hips in synced with yours and you couldn’t help but evolve your arms around him. Swaying with your face just a few inches off from his right shoulder. You held his hand and kept on swaying while the both of you smile and laugh. You tugged him back to which cause him to look down at you, you grin and “Damn you are one dish”. Abner frowns out of confusion but by your grin it must be a good thing.

Abner turns around and stares down at you and without warning he captures your lips with his. You stood thunderstruck but kiss back after a few seconds, it never accrued to you how soft his lips were. How gentle and shy he can be, how easy a red tent grows across his cheeks. He had to be the most sweetest thing you ever had met. Far too sweet, Abner had to be the number one candy in the world.

The two of you pull away with a small smiles on each other faces. You hum and kept on swaying to the music until Cleo poke Abner side. “Sorry for breaking you two up but you gonna have to focus for his here” you look and saw The thinker himself. You nod before parting from Abner to keep an eye on the weirdo over at the bar with Robert pressing a gun to his side.

But now here your with this odd looking man making a way to the back door with him mouthy off. “If you think that big mouth of yours is gonna save you sadly think again” he hums at your words. “Your the 1940′s guy right” you grow surprised “Pardon” he just smiles. You push through to the back only to see half-naked women “Sorry Loves we just want to get by” they screamed of course.

A solider turns to us but Cleo makes a rat shove it’s way into his mouth to which cause you to frown. “Ah geez now you don’t see that everyday” you watch the man squirm while the others moved on. “Now that is nasty” the man reach a hand out to you but you declined his odd muffles for help. “Sorry mate it’s more like a you problem” he still lays there until he just stop moving. You made a face “Oh my goodness that’s fucking gross” you watch the rat scurry off somewhere else. You flinch when the rat doubled back and ran pass your right shoe “Ugh, fuck no” you shiver “Y/N!” you hear Milton call out.

“That was a gross way to die” Cleo only sighs “I’m sorry if that creep you out”. “No I didn’t mean it in that way for it was unexpected” Cleo looks up at you and smiles. You can tell she is still jumping “Welp weirdo how does it feel to be here” the man only grins. “Benjamin called out to you but you never came” you glare at him and kicked him. “Y/N” Abner spoke softly “Don’t his just lying” you frown and said “Yeah, his just lying”.

“Look Abner about before I..” you were cut off “don’t worry about it we all have our ups and downs”. “For I killed my mom” you frown and by his very life you can tell he had done it for the greater good. “I know Abner and I’m truly sorry” Abner smiles and lays his head on your right shoulder. “Num Num” Nanaue says so you groaned “No, he isn’t Num Num’s” Nanaue seems disappointed.

Abner cuddles into your right side “Hey Abner” he hums “What are you gonna do once your free”. For the truth Abner doesn’t know himself “I don’t know” you smile. “You can see the rest of England with me then” Abner smiles and says “I’ll like that. Cleo came and said “Hey can I join” you smile and move over for her to join. She took your left while Abner has your right, Weirdo looks at you three before he started pondering over his own life.

“Okay so operation Harley” Rick says to each of us while we all nod.

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I know I said two-parts but I’m gonna stop here for now.

#Polka-dot man x male reader #the suicide squad x male reader

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