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#come on marvel lets make it happen
sharkneto · 1 year
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I just browsed through your anti-mcu tag and now am filled with fury (at disney ofc, not you)👍🏼
god it's so disappointing. i genuinely loved the mcu movies and all of that back in their heyday - captain america until... hmmm, antman? maybe? i was a big fan. yeah there were some clunkers in there, but overall they felt fun and i liked the characters.
and then they just ran it into the fucking ground. i feel like them introducing spiderman was the real turning point for me (tom holland is a great peter parker, i just don't like how they've written him/what they've done with the character and that's not his fault. why is he a tiny tony stark why did they do that put him back in his natural habitat of broke normal teen). i'm all for different interpretations of characters, but it felt like that was the point where i realized "oh, they don't care, do they". and then it was a long slide from there, with the final straw being goddamn Endgame (fuck that movie, it's so bad, i'm still angry about it).
the most frustrating thing is how avoidable the slide was. they got too greedy, reached to fast, were more worried about setting up their next movie than making the movie you're currently watching good. on top of that, their insane rate of release and how unplanned all their shit is exasperates how shit they treat their animators, plus their ridiculous fear of spoilers so they treat their actors like shit. if your movie is going to fall apart because of One Single Spoiler, maybe write a better movie???? just a suggestion
it's absolutely insane. marvel really should have been the cashcow that kept on giving forever, but they milked it too hard and still haven't stopped and we're all begging them to either give the cow a break or shoot the damn cow and put it out of its misery, but here we are getting a new marvel movie every month and people are still going to them and making them shitloads of money. it's exhausting
i'm willing to watch bad movies, i don't mind bad movies (Venom, my fucking beloved), but i'm not going to enjoy bad movies that don't have any passion to them and actively make people's lives worse. if you're exploiting people to this degree and you're still turning out shit, what's the fucking point
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s0fter-sin · 1 year
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it’s weird that they decided to go for kang as the next overarching big bad when galactus is right there. he’s more well-known, poses a huge threat and is way more visually interesting than just some dude
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“In the Midst of Wolves, Part 1,” Scarlet Spider (Vol. 2/2012), #13.
Writer: Christopher Yost; Penciler: Khoi Pham; Inkers: Tom Palmer and Terry Pallot; Colorists: Fabio D’Auria, Andres Mossa, and Antonia Fabela
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notgoingwell · 1 year
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Marvel's Spider-man 2.
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lynnielovestlou · 2 months
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winner winner (ellabs x reader)
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꩜ synopsis: abby and ellie challenge each other to see who can make you squirt first.
꩜ cw: SQUIRTING!!!! , overstim , threesome , smut with absolutely no plot , dirty talk , pet names , spanking , poosay slapping , dom! abby , dom! ellie , sub! reader , tummy buldge , mention of masturbation , this is kinda short i'm sorry
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
the three of you had been at this for fifteen minutes already. it happened when you mentioned to them that you'd never squirted before. of course, being the two numbskulls that they are, they took that as a challenge.
so now you were laying on your back in bed, abby between your legs and ellie at your side.
ellie was holding your hand, rubbing your knuckles with one hand and rubbing your clit with her other. abby, of course, was wearing her biggest, longest strap she has, and she's pounding into you while she cradled your head.
pathetic little whimpers we're escaping your lips with each thrust, but all you could do was take it.
"shhh... sh sh sh." ellie coos, "come on baby, you can take more."
abby is too focused to speak, hitting that spot inside of you repeatedly. your insides were probably bruised now, and she could feel you clenching around her.
"she's gettin' tight, ellie." abby says. ellie snickers, pressing down and pinching your clit. you moan and your back arches off the bed.
you flail your legs, trying to close them in retaliation, but abby keeps them open. "uh-uh. keep 'em wide and spread for me, sweet girl. you close, huh? yeah, i can feel ya." her words send you over the edge and you're coming for the third time tonight. your entire body convulses with pleasure, and both girls marvel at the way your face contorts.
"no way in hell i'm letting you win." ellie mutters to abby under her breath, shooing her away from you once your high is over.
she gives your cunt a few firm slaps before impaling you with her silicon dick. she bottoms out in one go, the tip of her dick kissing your cervix sloppily. hers is much longer than abby's, making a little bump in your lower tummy.
"s' too big." you whine when ellie's hand meets your stomach, pressing down on the little bump she made.
"you've got it, sweet girl. come on, baby, come on." she whispers in your ear.
abby chuckles as she watches this all unfold. she let ellie go first to get you nice and stimulated, in hopes that she could be the one to make you squirt. but the way that ellie was slamming roughly into you made her believe that that wasn't going to happen.
"hurts." you groan, eyes closing.
"keep your eyes open. watch ellie fuck you." abby commands, so naturally you listen. you open your eyes to watch her slip in and out of you. your thighs were covered in slick, and your next orgasm was coming.
ellie's pants and heavy breaths only turned you on more, and it was getting harder to sit still. ellie had a shit-eating grin on her face, knowing what was about to happen.
"scream my name, honey. come on, let me hear you." she coaxes, and you gush at her words, doing exactly that. you yelled her name, in contrast to the little whimpers and quiet whines you were eliciting earlier. you'd never felt more euphoric in your entire life. sure, you'd come on your own hands, their hands, their straps, and even their mouths several times. but nothing compared to the tingles you felt on every inch of your body.
the sheets were wet.
ellie entire lower half was wet.
you were wet, laying in a puddle of your own substances.
ellie laughs and cheers, "you fucking squirted!"
abby groans in defeat after seeing the utter mess you made. her eyebrows were squeezed together, her bulky hand in a tense fist. she shook her head silently, as if contemplating punching ellie in the jaw.
but ellie was too busy celebrating to notice, "fuck yeah! i did it!" she says, pecking you in every little crease and corner her lips can reach.
you were too fucked-out to comment on her celebrating, or abby's defeat, for that matter.
"how d'you feel, sweet pea?" abby is first to check on you after ellie disappears to go fetch some towels.
"fucking amazing." you mumble, nestling comfortably into the crease between her shoulder and neck, "never knew it could feel like that."
she chuckles, kissing your hairline, "there's plenty more where that came from. next time, i'll be the one to make you squeal like that, hm?"
you laugh quietly at her words, nodding.
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faetreides · 7 days
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oooh art would be lowkey freaky. i feel like he’s also a super munch. he’ll let you sit on his face for hours!!
cw: 18+ mdni, cunnilingus, ambiguous era, afab reader, slight brat!reader, teasing, like two spanks (+ one instance of ass play + very slight anal fingering)
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Art devours you like no one else ever could, burying his tongue into your pussy for hours on end. If he could, he’d do it 24/7. He does it enough as it is away. As a wake up call, a way to say goodnight, in the shower, on your period, from behind while you’re cooking, in a pool chair, you get the gist. If you asked what he favorite sexual act to do with you was, there’s not a single doubt in your mind that it would be slurping up your pussy.
You’ve never sat on his face before though, too scared to break his neck after reading a story on your phone about that happening to someone else. It’d be a real mood killer to come down from you high to see your boyfriend dead to the world, literally. You didn’t talk about it again after the initial awkward discussion that ended with you dismissing it. But he just looks so hot in the early morning sun, a rare sleepy day in where you actually get to marvel at what Art looks like when he’s relaxed.
You bite your lip and shake him gently, trying not to shy away and curl up into a ball when he eventually groans and rubs his eyes open.
“Morning, baby.” He grunts in his husky morning voice.
He immediately puckers his lips for a kiss that you provide with less casual confidence than usual. His brow furrows, and he caresses the inside of your wrist with his thumb.
“What’s up? Are you hungry?” He asks you, thinking that you’re needing him to run and get you coffee or something.
You say no and play with your hands, the ache you’ve been feeling between your thighs only grows the more you look into his eyes.
“I just…. I need you.” You whisper.
Art squints his eyes, not sure what you mean. Then he recalls how he usually wakes you up in the morning, “Oh. You need me, huh?”
You nod and spread your legs, giving a view of your bare pussy. You took your underwear off earlier when the feeling got to be too much.
“Can you say it for me, angel? Tell me what you need and i’ll give it you.” He grins, teasing you. “If you woke me up, you must need whatever it is really bad.”
You roll your eyes and straddle him, sighing in bliss when he latches onto your hips. You’d put up more of a fight if you weren’t so horny, but you’ll let Art have his fun this time.
“I need you to eat me out.” You hold back the ‘obviously’ that you want to tack onto the end of your sentence.
Art’s grin widens and he makes you rock back and forth on his clothed bulge. He waist until you’re juices are wetting the fabric of his underwear before he pats your thigh, telling you to get off. You don’t budge and allow him to get into the typical position. Instead you lift your hips and shuffle up the bed until you’re hovering over his face.
“I want you to eat me out like this.”
Art’s grin falters as his eyes widen in shock for a second, you must really be pent up if you’re being this bold. He’s not complaining, he’d been waiting patiently for you to get comfortable enough to use him like a chair. You’re enough of a brat to change your mind if he acts too smug about getting what he wants even if you want it too though, so he tones it down.
“Get to it then, angel.” He smirks, his words trailing off into a satisfied sigh. “Give me a taste of this pretty pussy, don’t hold back.”
He flattens his tongue expectantly and leans his head back against the pillows.
Before you can even hesitate, Art snakes his arms under your legs and yanks your body down, making you drop your weight on him. You yelp but he doesn’t let you squirm away from his mouth. The sensation of his tongue lying still beneath you feels strange for a second, but a slap to your ass snaps you out of it enough to start moving your hips.
You shout and grab onto the headboard, getting yourself off on your boyfriend’s face. You play with one of your tits as you start to bounce on him, craving more of his tongue.
You reach down and tug on his hair, suddenly feeling too shy to make eye contact. He hasn’t looked away from you this entire time, and your cheeks warm in embarrassment at the thought of how messy you already look.
He winks at you, not moving at all and letting you take your fill. Well that’s not what you want anymore, so you tug his hair harder and beg.
“Please, baby, just tongue fuck me already. Don’t you want to? ‘m getting tired…” You whine, pouting down at him.
You stop your hips when you don’t get an answer. Art’s eyes crinkle in delight at your predicament, but he gives in to you. He always does, you just don’t like when he puts you on the spot and makes you wait like this. Secretly you kinda enjoy how he acts in bed, but you like putting up a fight way more.
Art curls his tongue around your clit and you throw your head back. He gives the throbbing bud a few customary sucks and then he jabs his tongue into your wet hole. You moan and grab onto his hair, bouncing on him in time with his tongue’s short thrusts. You roll your hips down against the slick appendage and cry out when it hits the right spot, grasping onto the headboard for dear life.
“Oh my god, feels so good! Wanted you in my pussy, need you there, sucking me dry-what the fuck, yes!” You squeal, firmly keeping his face nuzzled into your pussy and your thighs around his head.
His hands are playing with your ass while he eats you out. You’re mid bounce when you feel one of his thumbs prod at your ass hole, and the barest hint of having two of your wholes filled gets you moving faster on him. He spread your cheeks wider and kneads the flesh, jiggling them in his hands.
Art responds in kind and slides his tongue around whatever parts of your juicy pussy he can, scooping up your juices and guzzling them down as he stabs his tongue through your sopping folds.
You’d normally pull him back by his hair when you got close, not wanting to get him too dirty with your cum. But now you’re tightening your thighs over his ears and and stuffing his nose into your trimmed pubic hair, bouncing like your life depends on it.
Art spanks you again when your walls spasm around his tongue thirty seconds later. He gulps your orgasm down with love in his eyes and a heartbeat in his dick. He coos at your soft sniffles and massages your trembling thighs when you get up and collapse beside him.
“Thanks for breakfast, angel, I’d rate it 5 stars”. He laughs, half jokingly and half seriously.
“Whatever, perv.” You weakly smack him on the chest and groan, trying to keep your soul in your body. “Go get coffee… please.”
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Your apartment floods. Inspired by and for @liliumbosniacum
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"I need to take leave."
Simon's phone is pressed against his face, one hand holding the device, the other with a canvas bag in his hand, it's contents overflowing: blankets, baby clothes, your pillow.
"Everything alright?" Price sounds suspicious, but more curious than anything, and Simon sighs.
"Neighbor's flat flooded. She's got nowhere else to go so I'm letting 'em stay with me for a while." Price, thank fucking god, doesn't push it any further, disconnecting with a rumble about checking in with him next week, wishing him a happy holiday, and a parting good luck.
When he hangs up, you're standing hesitantly in his doorway, pile of clothes in your arms.
"That the last of it?" He asks, and you nod.
"Are y-you sure this is okay?" You're still upset, shaken, and he doesn't blame you. You were terrified when you woke up to bone chilling, ankle deep water, frantically shouting about a burst pipe into the phone over Emmaline's shrieks.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I've got plenty of room." He does. His flat is larger than yours, and though they're both two bedroom floor plans, his bedrooms are bigger, and he has two bathrooms, compared to your one. "I got the crib reassembled in the guest room." He motions to the door that's half opened, a few bags of Emmaline's stuff collected on the floor.
"Thank you." you murmur, and then step forward, burying your face in his chest. He holds you there, rubbing your back, working his thumb into the knot that sits at the base of your neck. “At least we saved the tree,” you laugh, wet and sad, and he hums, bowing to press his lips to your forehead.
“I’m sorry love.”
“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Nothing I could control.” You’ve got a point there, and he appreciates the approach, marvels at your ability to not be angry or frustrated with your neighbor, even though it wasn’t really their fault as well. He’s irritated for both of you, anxious over visualizing what would have happened if the chunk of the ceiling that fell was misplaced and landed on you, or Emma.
You pull away, face twisted up into something that looks painful, tears on your lash line, and he frowns. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart, c’mon. It’s alright.”
“I know.” You cry, clamping your hand over the bridge of your nose and trying to turn away. “It’s just all her gifts we-were in my room and now they’re ruined, and-“
“Okay, so we’ll get more. We still have plenty of time.” He reassures, rubbing his palms up and down your arms until you come back to him, letting him fold you back into his embrace. “We’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
“We will?” You sniffle, and he nods.
“I’m on leave, until after the holiday, so I’ll be around, we can go shopping and replace everything. It’s going to be alright. I promise.” That word slips out of him again, promise. I promise, just like he told you this morning when you were frantic and he said it was okay that you stayed with him, I promise, just like he assured last night when you apologized for Emmaline crying for most the evening. “Okay?” His chin rests on the top of your head, and he turns to kiss you, the touch as soft as he can manage. You hum, and then sigh into him.
“Okay Simon.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No.” His refusal is immediate, and you look at him in near exasperation.
“Simon I can’t kick you out of your bed! You’re too big for the couch, anyway, and I don’t mind, I’ve slept on a couch plenty. Plus I’ll be able to hear better, when Emmaline wakes-“
“Sweetheart.” You’re in the living room, bouncing Emmaline in your arms, walking back and forth in front of the fireplace. She’s wearing a red and white striped onesie, like a candy cane, and Simon chuckles when she makes grabby hands at him as he approaches. You sigh, and he tucks his hands under her, lifting her away and into his arms, pleased at how you instantly relax and stretch your back and shoulders in response. “Think you’re getting too big for mama, baby girl.” You roll your eyes, playfully knocking your elbow into his side, and he grunts. “You’re not kicking me out of my own bed.”
“No?” You turn with a hand on your hip, other one holding a half full bottle.
“No, well. I mean-“ he falters, suddenly losing his confidence. “I’m happy to let you have it, or…” He can’t get the words right, can’t communicate what it is he wants to tell you, too worried about scaring you off or being too forward, pushing you too far.
“Or?” You look so pretty, standing in his flat, your belongings, Emma’s, strewn about, just your presence alone making this place feel more like a home than it ever has before. He feels dizzy, overflowing with emotion when Emma lays her head down on his chest, and you smile at her, looking back up at him, delicate, sweet smile on your lips. He bends, tilting your face upwards to meet his, lips ghosting against one another as Emma coos from his arms.
“Or… we can share it.”
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months
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Dad!Simon Riley x Fem!reader
Simon Riley: Girl Dad
From the request here ; pic screenshot from this video
“Can I come in now?” you ask, popping your head into the nursery as Simon finishes getting your 3 month old daughter Anna ready for the day. 
She wriggles in his grasp, babbling away as he mutters in a hushed tone to her about keeping still for daddy.
"Ya think this is funny yeah," he teases her, tickling her chubby tummy before trying to wrangle one of her legs in his grasp.
It’s like music to his soul the way the happy talking sounds she makes touches his heart and it only makes him want to do whatever he can so that she will keep making them for him. That’s why it always takes longer than usual to get her dressed when he does it.
You crane your neck trying to sneak a peak, but his voice stops you. “Not yet,” he says and moves his body to block your view. 
He doesn’t want you to see before he’s ready. The outfit is one he picked up the other night on a whim, the moment he saw it he knew Anna had to have it for today, and he wants to get it all on to give the full effect. He finishes straightening her up and tucks her body sitting up in the crook of his arm. She is content as can be being snuggled at the side of his chest, happily clapping her little hands together as they turn to face you. 
“Well?” he asks, brow furrowed and body slightly tense as he waits for your critique. “How'd we do?”
You match your daughter’s vibrant smile as you see the outfit Simon’s bought all on his own: a bright yellow corduroy romper with frill capped sleeves, little socks with suns on them, and a big yellow bow to match. Your heart swells full of emotion at the sight; it’s just an outfit, sure, but it really means so much more than the sum of its parts. You know just how far Simon has come in his journey with her and it truly warms your heart to see him so smitten with the little babe this way.  
When she first came home, there wasn’t a moment when Simon wasn’t on edge around her, nervous that somehow, someway, he would end up hurting her. She seemed so small to him in those first days, so incredibly delicate as she lay sleeping in her bassinet like the most perfect doll, that he was certain that someone as rough around the edges as him would never be able to be near her without breaking her and that was something he was not willing to risk.
She is his gift, his light, a treasure that came from out of all the years of heartache and hardship and he would never let anything bad ever happen to her.
It took some time and a lot of encouragement on your part, but finally Simon found his confidence and never looked back. Any chance now that he can get he is holding her, changing her, feeding her; anything and everything he can do to show her his love by his actions alone. And whether he gives himself the credit for it or not, he is doing a marvelous job.
“How did I know you'd choose something yellow?” you laugh as Simon glares at you, trying not to crack that fake tough facade. 
It is becoming a pattern for him to choose yellow things when it comes to Anna. When she came home from the hospital a few months ago in that yellow onesie, it was like a flip and been switched and that was it; that was her hue from then on. It is strange, Simon never really had a favorite color before that special day and then suddenly yellow was never the same. Now he cannot imagine his life without it.
His face breaks into a smile as he shakes his head, not ready to admit that he is becoming predictable. “Come on, did I do it right or not? Just want to be sure it looks fine on her. We got a big day and I want it ta be perfect.”
Your face brightens as you look her over again. “She looks adorable, Simon,” you reply cheerfully. “You did good, baby. I think you’re really getting the hang of this dad thing.”
Looking down at her in his grasp, he beams with a sense of accomplishment and his tense shoulders ease. Parenting is not something Simon ever thought he could be good at, he never thought he would be the one with the chance at having a family, but each day he is making strides in the right direction to becoming the dad he desperately wants to be.  
“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own today?” you ask as you watch Simon place a delicate kiss to the top of Anna’s small, wispy-haired head. “Cause I can stay if you need me to. All I gotta do is make a call and let them know I can’t go.”
Simon shakes his head and reaches for you with his free arm, pulling you by the wrist until you step close enough that he can wrap his arm around your hip to pull you against him opposite your daughter. “Ya worry too damn much, sweetheart,” he says as his hand finds your cheek, his thumb stroking across the soft skin before he is leaning his face in towards yours. 
His full lips catch you in their tender embrace, a kiss that is full of emotion, and in an instant your eyes flutter closed as you relinquish yourself to him. You let all those worries fall away as the gentle touch of his lips, the heat from his breath, the passion flowing through his kiss calms your mind. He conveys so much without ever speaking a single word and in a flash you are put at ease.
Slowly he breaks away, already missing your taste the moment your lips part. Eyes still shut, he rests his forehead against yours, rocking all three of you back and forth a moment as he enjoys the feeling of having his entire life resting comfortably in his arms. You both open your eyes after a time and look down at Anna babbling away to herself, before looking back at each other. This is all still new and unchartered territory, so the both of you are working to figure it all out, but so far it has been anything except bad. 
“I promise, I got ‘er. We’re gonna be just fine,” he says quietly. “Isn’t that right, princess?”
At the sound of his voice Anna turns her face to find his and it lights up as it always does whenever her favorite person talks to her. She even employs her recently-learned skill of giggling happily to punctuate that she agrees with whatever it was she was just asked, even though she doesn’t understand a word of it.  
Simon kisses your forehead to be sure the worry is completely gone. “It’s just a couple hours on base and then we’ll be home the rest of tha day,” he says. “Besides, might be nice to show her off to the guys. She does look real pretty today.” 
“That she does,” you agree as you quickly check the clock on your phone and with a kiss to your baby and one more for Simon you are gone, leaving the pair alone.
Simon gets to work double checking everything in his backpack that he has to bring for her: extra diapers, wipes, bottles, toys, anything he could need while he is out. It’s in his nature, years of military training has come in handy as he is prepared for it all. Satisfied, he turns back to the baby at his side. “Alright princess,” he says, “ready to go see where your dad spends all his time when he ain’t at home?”
The moment he’s walking on base, black backpack filled with essentials strapped to his back, tiny baby girl dressed in bright clothes tucked in his arms, he’s drawing curious stares from everyone he passes. This is the first time she has gone to base with him, so of course people are going to be inquisitive about things. How can they not? Simon looks like… well, Simon: intense, stoic, intimidating. Even in just his black t-shirt and jeans, with his lightweight balaclava on, he is still an imposing figure. Never one to be shy per se, Simon still does not like the attention on him, but since he is with his little angel he doesn’t care. He is proud to show off the best damn thing he has ever helped to create.
The contrast between him and his daughter he knows is jarring and Simon laughs to himself at how absurd this must look for someone like him with such a coarse demeanor to be handling such a precious, sweet thing. Who would have thought that the scary skull-masked military officer would have a family of his own? It is a shock he is sure. 
“Seems we’re gonna be the talk ‘round ‘ere today, princess,” he says as he looks down at Anna, secure in his grasp as they continue on towards his office.
She is too busy looking everywhere her little head can turn to be bothered by anything. Being out and about with her father, seeing things she’s never seen before, which is pretty much everything, has her interested and engaged with the sights around her. Those small brown eyes, the ones that are a carbon copy of his, stare on as she silently takes everything in.
He makes it to his office and gets set up, grabbing everything that he needs in one tight spot as he sits Anna up in his lap with a toy for her to play with. She is content for a while as he goes through paperwork, occasionally he gives her a tickle or readjusts her on his thigh, something to show that he hasn’t forgotten she’s there with him. 
Barely an hour has passed before Anna begins to whine and fuss and Simon knows what that means: she’s hungry. He grabs the prepped bottle out of the bag and walks to the small microwave in the corner of the room, warming it and testing it on his wrist before he moves back to his desk and sits back down in his chair, cradling her in his arms against his chest as he places the nipple of the bottle in her mouth.
“There ya are, luv,” he comforts her until she settles into him, “I gotcha. Daddy didn’t forget.”
Unknown to Simon, there is an unexpected guest that has just appeared near his office door, though before the person can even knock to announce themselves, they are caught by surprise at the sight before them. Johnny, who’s come to deliver something from Price, stops right in his tracks and stares at the scene before him.
He stands there, watching as Simon tenderly holds this little infant in his arms, quietly rocking back and forth as she drinks her bottle. Every now and again he speaks to her softly, the skin around his eyes tightening to indicate there is a smile underneath the mask. There is an ease to his movements as if he knows exactly what he is doing and it genuinely shocks the young sergeant. Who could have ever guessed that this would be something Simon would be such a natural at?
As Anna is finishing the bottle, Simon looks up as he feels a pair of eyes on him to see Johnny standing there, obscured by the doorframe, silently watching. He sets the empty bottle down on his desk and moves Anna to sit upright on his thigh, leaning her against the crook of his arm so that he can pat and rub her back until she burps. 
“Can I help ya, Mactavish?” Simon’s distinct voice calls out, catching Johnny off-guard as he realizes he’s been caught staring.
“Sorry, L.T.” Johnny stutters out as he hurriedly steps inside the office, remembering why he is here in the first place, and sets some papers upon his desk. “Price sent these; says he needs ya to look ‘em over.”
Simon nods in understanding, his hand still rubbing the baby’s back. “Will do,” he agrees, thinking this will be the end of the interaction, but Johnny still lingers. “Anything else?”
“I heard ‘round base that ya had your little one here today. Had to come see if it was true fer myself,” Johnny admits with guilt. 
“Well, ya could meet ‘er if ya like, ‘stead a standin’ there just starin’.”  Simon nods his head down at the baby. “Johnny, this is Anna.”
The sergeant observes her as she begins to coo, her eyes catching the tattoos along Simon’s muscular arm, her petite fingers tapping and poking along the lines and patterns with delight as she loves to do when he holds her like this. She’s so engrossed that she hasn’t realized there is another person in the room yet.
Johnny clears his throat. “Didn’t mean ta stare, ya know. It’s just a surprise ta see she’s actually real, I guess.”
The original members of the 141 know about Anna, it wasn’t something that Simon could hide once she was about to make her way into the world, but it’s a bit jarring for the Scot to see someone that he had previously known to be so toughened by the world change so drastically. Anyone who gets close enough can see it in the lieutenant’s soft gaze: he adores the little girl and that is… interesting, to say the least.
Simon chuckles at the clear surprise in Johnny’s voice as Anna is still playing with his arm. “Bit absurd, innit Johnny?” he questions while watching her with a prideful twinkle in those brown eyes as she giggles. “Me with a kid? Doesn’t seem possible, does it?” 
“Ya seem a natural ta me,” the Scot admits in awe of how easily he makes it seem, as if he was given some secret knowledge that made him know exactly what to do and how to do it. “Then again I don’t know the first thing ‘bout babies. Wouldn’t even know where ta start.”
Simon is reminded about how when he first found out he was going to be a dad he had started reading all the books, researching all the things like a good, capable soldier would, but how all of that prep was nothing in the end as the moment she came into the world everything was turned on its head. It’s not like in the books, it’s so much better and it is days like today that make it worth all the worry and fear and anxiety he had to break through to get here.
“Easier than ya think,” Simon replies with a chuckle as he moves Anna around facing forward now. “Once ya get the hang of it.”
“Don’t tell my girl that,” Johnny laughs back. “Can’t afford one right now.”
Anna’s attention is stirred away from Simon’s tattoos and towards the other man standing in the room with them. She looks up at Johnny in awe, not having much experience with others outside of Simon and you, but Johnny shoots her his classic smile and he has her giggling again in a flash. 
“Well hey there Anna, nice ta meet ya,” he introduces himself before turning back to Simon. “I think she likes me.”
“It's your hair she's eyein’,” Simon points out, following her eye line.
Sure enough as soon as Johnny runs his hands over the mohawk cut into his hair her eyes light up. “Can she touch it?” he asks Simon and he nods in agreement.
Johnny falls to one knee in front of the little girl, leans his head down, and lets her put her hand in it. Her short, chubby fingers pull the strands as she laughs, the short, spiky pieces pricking her fingertips. She pulls away quickly before bringing her hand back in again, a sort of game that she repeats a few more times before Johnny gets back to his feet. 
“He’s a funny one, ain’t he, princess?” Simon questions his little one as he strokes his thumb around the smile that fills her tiny, round cheeks. “Ya like him, yeah?”
She coos, her little lips forming an ‘o’ so that she sounds like a dove. That’s the closest to a yes as they are going to get. 
“I sure ‘ope ya do, seein’ as I’m your dad’s best friend,” Johnny picks, looking to Simon to see his reaction. 
He rolls his eyes at the statement, but stays silent and doesn’t correct him. Instead Simon opts to end the conversation there, needing to get finished here anyway so that he can get back home. As much as Johnny’s company isn’t as grating as it first was, he is ready to spend some alone time with the baby before you get back. “Well, if ya don’t mind, I need to get back to it. Say goodbye Anna.”
Johnny agrees, though his mouth twitches like he wants to ask a question, but ultimately decides not to ask it in the end. He turns to leave, but Simon guesses at what he is wanting and calls out behind him so that he stops. 
“And ya can tell the others they can come see ‘er if they want,” Simon assures, “I know they’re probably itchin’ to get a glimpse of her too. That’s why they sent ya, yeah? See if I was up for company?”
Johnny turns around and nods his head. Fuck, they’ve been caught. “Will do, L.T.” he says. “Can ya blame us though? She’s pretty damn cute.”
And with that he turns back around. As Johnny leaves the office with the sounds of Simon and Anna at his back, he can’t help but smile to himself at seeing his friend finally have a bit of happiness; if anyone deserves it, it is Simon. Wait till the others see just how much things around here are going to change.
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infictionalwonderland · 9 months
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Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?
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. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!
Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.
So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.
‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.
Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.
Surely this was an exaggeration.
The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.
The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.
“How do you feel about your costume?”
Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.
“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”
The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.
With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.
The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.
He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.
“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”
“SEBA—“
“Cut!”
The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.
“Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.
“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”
“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.
You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.
“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”
“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.
“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.
The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)
Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”
Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”
“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.
Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.
Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”
“But—“
“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.
Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)
“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.
The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.
“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.
“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.
“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”
Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.
The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.
“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.
“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.
“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”
“I—“
“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.
The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.
“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.
“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.
The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s’ together.
“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”
McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.
“This is getting juicy!”
“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“
“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.
Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”
“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.
The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.
He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.
“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”
By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.
“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.
“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.
In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.
The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.
“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”
Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”
Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.
The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.
“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”
“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.
“CHRI—“
In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.
“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.
“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.
“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.
“I concur.” You grinned back.
The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.
“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”
“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.
You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.
The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.
Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.
The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.
“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.
“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.
The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.
“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”
“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.
“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.
“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.
“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.
“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.
There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰
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cherryredstars · 10 days
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Ok so i have this fic idea where reader and mig are from different universes and reader is a scientist and one time mig and her get drunk and start talking about the multiverse and suddenly they are on the topic of what would happen if people from different universes had a baby together. (You see where i am going with this...) they end up drunkenly fucking and saying it's for "research" because they can't admit to themselves that they are in love. If this request is too complicated feel free to ignore. Thank you in advance cherry!! I hope u have a marvelous new year!! 💕
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Oral Sex, Mentions of Animal Testing (for science), Breeding Kink
A/N: Thank you, love! I hope you're well!!!
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You know there is a process.
And you know this isn't it.
There are supposed to be hypotheses and written out procedures. Dependent and independent variables, a control group. Fucking hell, you should be experimenting on fucking mice. You should be limiting the margins of error, should be going with the most direct, straightforward pursuit for results.
And yet...
You don't stop Miguel when he pushes you back onto the couch. You don't pause or even really think when he's pushing your pants down your legs, placing kisses along the skin as he goes. You lift your hips to aid him when his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, shivering when his warm breath fans over your exposed sex. If this experiment was in any sense proper, you would get straight into it. Cut out all the unneeded steps. But you can't help but pull his head closer to your aching core, craving the way his warm tongue laps at you. If you weren't already drunk, you would be drunk on this feeling alone.
But god, nothing has even been more satisfying than doing the work. You know the data would be void in a real experiment. The trials bleeding into each other hardly make for adequate data, but the way you beg him for more is involuntary. It feels too good, to have him desperately thrusting into you. It makes your mind numb, and everything you know about your life's passion is erased. The only thing that fills your head is the words Miguel grunts into you ears, promises of fucking a baby into you. Vows to make you bloated with load after load of his cum. That all it'll take is one of his orgasms to make it happen.
You guess that is a hypothesis in itself: Miguel O'Hara can get you pregnant with just one orgasm.
Too bad he's too desperate to find out if that hypothesis is correct. Because he doesn't stop at one. No, he keeps going. One after the other with no breaks in-between. But you guess that's to be expected, he is a man of science himself. A passionate one at that.
He's almost crazed in the way he overstimulates himself. Sweat beading in his hairline as he grunts down at you, watching the way he creamy cock slides in and out of your abused pussy. You've lost count of how many times you've come alone, but you know based on the way your body shivers and jolts that it's far more than you've ever had before. It's almost painful now, the way your next orgasm rips through you and shatters your soul again. You let out strangled breaths as you fight through the aftershocks and the continued pleasure of Miguel's cock slamming against your cervix. You swear you black out before he finally stops, your eyes and mind groggy as he pulls your hips flush against his as he spills into you.
You can feel him trying to push deeper into you as he pants ruggedly, his cock twitching against your walls until he's milked dry. Even when he's done filling you, he stays connected. He collapses onto you, breathing in the linger smell of sweat and sex on your skin.
"Got to make sure it takes."
Well, does the process really matter if you get the desired result anyway?
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Part 2
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eviebane · 6 months
Text
Neil is up to something
there is an excellent post (that I've blimming lost) about how Neil is very familiar with magic tricks but read this wonderful compilation of metas and you'll get the idea - NEW Crackpotting Theory Tracker
Magic plays a big part in Good Omens - and Neil is up to his own magic trick. Sendarya talked about how the kiss is a misdirection to the audience from what is actually happening
so let's get rid of the kiss (because I definitely find it distracting!) and let's look at what happens between Metatron and Aziraphale in 2x06
This is not an angel that wants to return to Heaven. He looks bored, like he doesn't even know why Metatron is there or why he's talking to HIM about who the next Supreme Archangel should be.
"Michael?" it's like he couldn't give less of a toss if he tried
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he's just like hmm? yeah ok, super interesting, can i leave now
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When Metatron suggests Azi should take over as Supreme Archangel, he looks horrified. this is not good news, at all.
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Metatron tries to sweet talk him. You're so honest, such a good leader~
Azi isn't convinced.
"I've been looking back over a number of your... previous exploits, and I see that in quite a few of them you formed a-"
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THAT EYE TWITCH
"-de facto partnership with the demon Crowley."
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LOOK AT THIS REACTION. fear. worry. panic. guilt(?). we see that fight or flight response kick in - the eye movements, the swallow.
Can I point out, WE NEVER SEE AZI'S IMMEDIATE REACTION TO THIS OFFER. But I think we know that it's not a positive reaction - he knows what Crowley thinks of Heaven.
What we do see is the end of that conversation, and Azi is nervous and faking smiles. He is now agreeing to go along with Metatron's plan, even though the last time we saw him, he was completely resisting it. Something happened to cause this change.
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It's very possible that Aziraphale has now made his own plan, but he has to make it seem like he's going along with Metatron's plan. The Metatron is very direct to Aziraphale that he knows about his relationship with Crowley, and as we know, Aziraphale is terrified of Crowley being destroyed. This was perceived as a threat to Crowley and possibly humanity, and Metatron's bombshell "the Second Coming" definitely extended that threat to humanity, which Azi is a fierce protector of.
"But what am I?" "You're just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as you can."
This angel did not want to return to Heaven. This angel is essentially being held hostage and is trying to save the two things he loves most from complete and utter destruction.
Fell the Marvellous has saved Crowley before, in 1941, with a perfectly timed sleight of hand. Now this time he must save everything, with his own death-defying 'bullet catch'.
What Neil is up to, well. I don't think we'll know until we see it. A good magician never tells.
Edit: 'Trust Me' - Aziraphale's Season 3 'Bullet Catch'
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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 10 months
Text
Hobie Brown, Emotional Preparation, and the Art of Great Dialogue
Nearly all of Hobie's dialogue is written with his goal - protecting and preparing Miles for Miguel's abuse - in mind, even if it may not be obvious at first watch.
Here's an unhinged breakdown where I over-analyze literally every one of Hobie’s lines and explain how every sentence was written to contribute directly to Miles’ radicalization.
Hollywood. Pay your writers. (:
___________________________________________________
Hobie has around 10 minutes screentime total, but for the sake of introductions and this analysis, let's start at the end of the battle, and the beginning of the quantum hole.
Starting with his first line in the scene:
"I don't follow orders. Neither does he."
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All morals considered, Hobie doesn't seem like the type to speak for someone who can speak for themselves - he's a punk after all. But here, he speaks for Miles. This line serves to tell Miles 'I don't respect them, why should you?', but funnily enough, it can also be a point to Jess, as if to say 'Miles isn't interested.' - even if he is.
"Bit much, innit?"
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While, Hobie and Mile's next interaction is their exchange in the elevator, the scene leads to Mile's introduction to the Society. Miles gawks at the lobby, obviously impressed. Gwen affirms this awe, telling him 'this is just the lobby.' However, Hobie feels the need to chime in. His next dialogue 'Bit much, innit?' is a subtle nudge to Miles that the society is not a place to be in awe off. It's a spectacle, one that's a bit overdone. Knowing Miles now sees Hobie as cool, Hobie makes it known - he sees the Society as uncool.
"Gwendy, How much have you told him? About his place in all this? Maybe not enough."
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'So what happened about that small elite strike-team?' - 'Most of these are part time.' This is by far one of Hobie's more interesting lines, and I wrote about it here. But in short, this is Hobie's soft but direct confrontation of Gwen. After Gwen lies to Miles in front of him, Hobie immediately asks how much Gwen has revealed to him. And when she tries to play it off, he openly says 'Maybe that's not enough.' He's not angry with Gwen, but he is disappointed, which in turn motivates him to have his discussion with Miles.
"Super humane, and not creepy."
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One of my favorites, because it's hard to catch and to the point. After talking about Hobie and Gwen's mission history, they're taken to Margo and the control room. As Miles marvels at Margo and the Go-Home-Machine, and Gwen says she voted against it. However, Hobie says blatantly: 'Holy shit, Miles isn't this inhumane and weird???', validating that the Society is willing to do inhumane, hurtful stuff to those it deems 'misplaced'.
Next comes Hobie's confrontation with Miles.
Because Hobie knows this is his last movements with Miles before he meets Miguel, and this is where if final push of emotional support kicks in, before he goes quiet in front of Miguel.
And because this conversation is so well layered, I think it's best to go line by line. ______________________________
H: "Bet this doesn't even do anything." M: "Maybe it did before you ripped it out of a wall!"
Hobie has now confirmed that he'll be making an exit soon. And he begins his finally sweep of parts he needs for his watch, stocking up his pockets. He's not stealing to steal. He knows he's leaving and this is his last chance to get what he needs before he's out the door.
"Propaganda, bro! It's to distract you from the truth!"
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HOLY SHIT I missed this one. Notice how in this shot, Gwen is not visible at all. Hobie notices they're out of hershot of her for the first time. And his first line is - 'Propaganda.' Their watches can take them anywhere. When Gwen needed to, she was taken to exactly where she needed in Mumbattan. But when they're heading towards HQ, Jessica makes them walk through the lobby. They could have been sent directly to Miguel's station, but instead she makes them do the whole tour, which serves as a flex of muscle. In order, Miles was shown the massive number of members in the Society, then their prisoners, then the go-home-machine. Only THEN can they see Miguel. All of which was intent to intimidate Miles on purpose. Hobie tells him directly: 'Everything you just saw was propaganda.'
M: And what's that?
"I ain't got a Scooby Doo, mate. Cause that's what they want."
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One of the most iconic and notable of his quotes. Cockney aside, this line ties back in with his discussion with Gwen just a couple minutes before. They've done their tour and walk. Both Jess and Gwen have been given a chance to prime or explain to Miles anything, and both have chosen not to. So Hobie simply tells him, 'They want you in the dark. And they're sending you into a fight.'
The next line is:
H: Why do you want to be part of this lot? M: To get a watch. H: Make your own watch.
Miles sucks his teeth at Hobie.
Because of this - Hobie begins to change methods. Which I cannot stress is incredibly perceptive of him.
Miles is exasperated with him. So instead of dissuasion and making the society out to be uncool, he tries to turn Miles' attention towards his family.
"Bet you got a nice setup, huh? Nice parents?"
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This line is a very well done one, with two things of notice. First, I find it interesting that the screenplay phrases this line as a question, not a sentence. Hobie is asking. He's taking a shot in the dark here. And this is backed up by his delivery; Hobie hesitates while saying this. The only line in which he does so. He may not know about Miles' mom and dad, because Gwen hadn't met them when she met Hobie. But still, Hobie asks, hoping the reminder of Miles' parents will dissuade him from continuing.
M: They're fine. H: [After this line, Hobie turns black and white momentarily. Potentially a nod to the fact that this conversation is the only 'black and white' one Miles has had so far.] M: But we got into a fight. They just want what's best for me, so...
[Hobie frowns. The scene and dialogue REALLY starts to pick-up from here.]
"That's a bloody shame. Because you're not ready for everyone else."
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As the scene progresses Hobie goes from behind Miles, to beside him like an ally. Then, when Gwen finally comes back into frame, Hobie crosses in front of him. When Miles mentions his parents wanting what's best for him, Hobie warns that everyone else does not want what's best for him. At the same time, visually Gwen has her back to Miles, and Hobie puts himself between Miles and Gwen, trying to block his path. The scene is set up to show that in Hobie's eyes, Gwen is turning her back on Miles. She does not have his best interest in mind. Hobie is telling Miles 'They're using propaganda on you, they're keeping you in the dark, and they do not have your best interest at mind. You're not ready for this." And he physically tries to block Miles from continuing, one last time.
Miles goes through Hobie, and now within earshot of Gwen again, this is Hobie's final chance and push to get as much information into Miles as he can - without freaking Miles out. Above all else, he needs Miles to be prepared, confident, and willing to fight back.
His voice becomes more serious, and he starts speaking more straight-forward and a lot less cryptically.
"Listen to me, bruv. The whole point of being Spider-man is your independence. Being your own boss, you don't need all this!"
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I think Hobie saying this reveals a lot about his character, especially understanding the context where he's from. While many Spider-men would agree that being Spider-man is about responsibility and power - to Hobie, it is about independence, and freedom. Hobie is a freedom fighter, and one of the only Spider-men besides Noir that knows how to fight systemic threats as well as physical ones. To him, being Spiderman is about being able to free yourself and others. It's about independence and freedom, and he's trying to nail that in Miles' head one last time.
M: Then why are you here?
"Looking out for my drummer, is all."
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As the scene is coming to a close, the writers chose this time to reveal some of Hobie's motivations, starting with the independence comment, and now this. Despite knowing about Gwen's deception towards Miles, he is still looking out for her - and Miles. This is the writers' and Hobie's last push to solidify himself as an ally to Miles and the viewer.
M: I want to be in a band. I want to see my friends, and I need a watch to do that. G: Guys, come on.
"Alright, Squashed. Just don't enlist until you know about who you're fighting."
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I genuinely had to sit and ask myself why the writers would choose to leave Hobie's collective effort - a LOT of effort - with this line. And honestly, I think it's a perfect segway. Hobie chooses his words very clearly; He doesn't say 'what', he says 'who'. The next scene leads into Miguel's intro, and up until this point, Miles doesn't know who he is. He only knows about the Society, but never who is at the top. We know about Miguel, but all Miles knows is his name. That's why Hobie says 'who you're fighting'. Because the Society isn't really a Society, and this isn't really between Miles and the Society at all. It's a dictatorship - and the person he's enlisting to fight is Miguel. The perfect introduction and warning to the person he's about to meet. He's telling Miles, 'Don't rush into it. Wait until you meet Miguel first'. And when Miles does meet Miguel, he finally sees that this isn't the place he thought it was, just like Hobie said. ALSO EVEN MORE INTERESTINGLY - THIS is one of the lines that is changed between the two versions of spiderverse (there are two theatrical versions on release.) In the alternative he says 'Don't enlist unless you know what war you're fighting.' And I think that the fact the writers chose to publish two different versions of this line goes to show how powerful they knew this line would be in Miles' characterization. There is so much Hobie has left to say to him, but only one line - and so we get two versions. How fun!
With the scene now over, we see a change in Hobie's demeanor, and I love the writers' choice to have the shot linger on Hobie.
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We see him give Miles a look that isn't exactly full of confidence, but from this point forward, Hobie chooses to hang back, no longer having any motivation to instigate. He knows his work here is done, and now all he can really do is wait for Miguel to reveal his true colors, and hope that he got through enough to Miles that he will react, and fight back.
And closing out the scene - I noticed that when Peter B. arrives Hobie pointedly says
"Oh boy, Humbling Reality Spider-man has arrived."
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All I'll say about this is Hobie has to be Jamaican cause that was so mfing rude shgjfkghjgjkdfjk
Hobie has about three lines between this point and then end of his screentime - Two of which were his lines to Mayday, and his comment during the canon events.
But there is one shot of him before it all happens. And after this shot the movie begins staging Hobie in specific a very different way than anyone else.
The moment begins with Miles' line 'My Dad is about to be captain.'
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The camera pans to each character. Gwen, Peter, and Jess all avert their eyes. Miguel looks at Miles. And Hobie is the only one who looks at all of them. Instead of looking down, he looks to the others, in anticipation of whats going to happen. It's also important to note that this was probably news to Hobie. He probably didn't know Miles' dad was a cop - or at the very least going to be captain. So the understanding of just how much trouble Miles is in kinda multiplies in this moment.
Then, this happens
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From this point forward, every time Hobie is portrayed, he is shown as separate from the other characters, always being divided from the group - with Miles as the divider. Even as the camera moves, Hobie visually remains - quite literally - as the only person in Miles' corner. And as the scene goes on, he moves farther and farther into that corner.
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Until finally the scene comes to a climax, and Hobie gets two shots to himself - delivering his final lines.
"Here we go." - "Hobie, You're not helping." - "Good."
GUYS IM GONNA CRY OKAY IM GONNA CRY
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This is Hobie seeing his work pay off. This is him knowing that he got through to Miles and that it was worth it. He's proud of him.
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Hobie knew what he came to do, and he used literally every line he said to Miles to the FULLEST extent. He doesn't give a fuck if he's not helping the Society. He's helping Miles. And now he knows his work is done.
Being a punk is not about being a hero, it's about empowering those who feel powerless. HE UNDERSTOOD THE MOTHERFUCKING ASSIGNMENT.
IN SHORT - HOLLYWOOD PAY YOUR FUCKING WRITERS I SWEAR TO GOD.
if you read this far let me know :) thanks bye
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karmavongrim · 4 months
Text
Dear Father fanfic idea
DC x DP crossover fanfiction
Fanfic idea of Danny adopting everyone. He’s worse than Batman since he does it 200% deliberately with no age nor race restriction.
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“Absolutely fucking not.”
Yeah, nope. No way in hell was he, John mother-fucking Constantine going to let this happen. Only over his dead body, which might actually be the case by the end of the bloody day if they couldn’t come up with something else other than that. And he wasn’t going to change his mind no matter how much the kid currently gallivanting as a demi-god whined. Wasn’t that a news when he found out several months ago.
“Come on Constans, we both know he wouldn’t mind. Besides what else can we do, we’ve tried everything.” Captain Marvel pleaded with the older man as he gestured their surroundings.
It couldn’t be described as anything else other than apocalyptic. A complete fucking shitshow.
Apparently a prophecy of some kind came to fruition right under their bloody noses and they were left grasping straws to try and stop the end of the world from happening. If only-
“Call him or I’ll call him John! Your choice.” Pressed Marvel who was getting fed up with the magician’s nonsense but he wasn’t bugging, no siree!
“Shut up, we don’t need his help! Just let me-” John yelled while buried head first in his spell book, desperately trying to find away that didn’t require him to relinquish the last few pits of his shabby dignity. Or what was left of it anyways. But Marvel was having non of it.
“Nope, that’s it! I’m making the call!” The red glad man shouted over the blonde brit and pulled out his personal phone which looked like it had been pulled strait out of a sci-fi movie.
This caused John to lunge at Marvel who in return floated away out of his reach.
“Are you daft? I’ll never hear the end of it so don’t even- Hey! Don’t you dare, I swear-!” They were quickly interrupted by a black looming silhouette quickly approaching them.
“I hope that you two have come up with something since you’re able to play around like this.” Batman demanded in gruff manner, man looking worse for wear just like the rest of them. Marvel swiftly positioned the dark one between him and his would-be assailant.
“Oh we did have a solution from the very start but someone thinks that we don’t need any help. His poor ego wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He told as he threw a look over his makeshift barrier’s shoulder.
“Shut your cakehole.” John hissed but was reluctantly put in place by a hard glare from mister darker and gloomier who turned to the floating magic-user.
“What is this solution exactly? Help from who or what?” At his inquiry the boy-man hero couldn’t help but beam when he began to explain what, or rather who he had in mind.
“Well I was thinking calling our-” But he was rudely cut in before he could get far.
“We aren’t calling anybody because we don’t need his help! We can take care of this on our own!” Batman turned back to the blond and was clearly at the end of his patience.
“We are running on borrowed time Constantine, if there is any chance to for us to stop this then we should take it since we don’t have any other options left.”
The two began to argue so heatedly that they didn’t pay attention to Marvel speed dialing the number he kept close to his heart. With a dopey grin he bounced on his heels while he waited for the other side to answer. After just two rings the line connected.
“Hi kid! What are you calling in for, did you get out of work already?” A jovial, baritone voice rang out which instantly relaxed the kid-not-kid hero. The all-composing feeling of warmth, protection and safety could almost be felt through the phone which never failed to make him feel comfortable and at peace.
“Hi dad! No, I’m still at work and we kinda shorta need your help. Badly.”
He could near feel the change in his father’s mood and he definitely heard it in his voice.
“What do you need? Where are you?” Came the rapid questioning. His smile never left as he thought how dad always went strait to business when it came to his family and friends. Always ready to help no matter what or why.
“Well, apparently the apocalypse is happening and we have no idea how to stop it… Can you help us? Please?” He tentatively asked as he glanced back at the bickering duo. Sometimes he asked himself if he really was the only secret child there.
“Ha ha, no need to beg, let alone ask. I’ll be there in a jiffy once I know where you guys are. Just try and hang in there kid.” Voice on the other side commented in lighter tone.
Marvel let out a sigh. He knew that everything would be okay after all.
“Thanks dad. We are currently stuck on Metropolis in it’s central, it’s a complete mess in here.”
“Everything will be fine. See you soon.” The voice chuckled and cut the call.
Yes, everything would be just fine. He turned to call out to the idiots who looked to be near ripping each other a new one.
“You two can stop now, he’s already on his way!”
He had to wince at the speed which the blonde turned his head to stare at him. Then came the familiar cursing.
“Fucking shite!”
He merely rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in irritation. He glared at the magician.
“Seriously, what’s your problem? It doesn’t have to be this difficult you know.”
Before John could comment, Batman pushed pass and stalked up to Marvel.
“Who did you call?”
He couldn’t say much before more of their fellow heroes started to trickle in. Flash no surprise being the first.
“Hope you got something up your utility belt Bats, we can’t take this much longer.” Pleaded the red speedster. He was joined by Green Lantern carrying injured Superman and ouch did he look roughened up.
“Have to agree with Flashpoint. Were running out of juice fast, and even Big Blue is out cold.”
Marvel looked at the others coming in. Martian Manhunter, Zatara, Wonder Woman, Black Canary and even Doctor Fate was there, none of them looking any better.
“Well, I’m glad to announce that help is on their way so we can all sit back and relax for a bit. This will be over in no time.” He declared brightly.
The others goggled at him like he made the most outlandish statement in all of history, minus Constantine who has decided to use this small window of calm to drown his headache in his flask while he still can.
“What the hell are you on about? What help? Who could possibly help with this!” Flash yelled out the question in everybodies mind.
“I would like to known this too finally.” Batman demanded this as well.
Seeing everybody hanging onto his up coming explanation he smirked at John who gave him oh-so-eloquently middle finder in retaliation. Well to bad, he would have to just deal with it, the big baby.
“Oh nobody too important, just the most powerful and influential being in all multiverse. Some of you might know him by his monikers like the First Champion, the Balancer, the High King and the Great One.” He said flippantly as he pretended to check his nails, trying his absolute best to hid his smug smile when he noticed Zatara and Fate going rigid and pale.
Zatara near stumbled thanks to his shaking knees. He took couple faltering steps towards the Champion of Magic. His expression mix of reverence and fear as started to whisper as if dreading that someone or something might hear him if he spoke too loudly.
“Y-You couldn’t possibly mean King-”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence for they all felt the change in the air, in the ground.
He has arrived.
Time came to a crawl, the world slowed it’s movements in face of approaching force. It quaked, it trembled, it slithered. Leak becoming a downpour, a tear in reality of sickly green opened above the group, high out of reach. What little light still had remained in the hellish landscape around them were drained as if all the world’s shadow congregated around the opening to greet its master like a deprived servant. Then a figure of black and white caped in light seemingly holy, descended from it. Even from afar they could distinguish their towering form who’s muscles failed to hide under its full-body armor. Their mountainous presence becomes more and more apparent the closer they came. What they thought as wings of pure and white was actually a cape of moving light.
Blazing green eyes as that of the tear gazed upon them from under their moonlight hair, which coupled with the iron grown of flames created figures of shadow dancing across their hardened features as if to praise their beholder’s glory.
Zatara had already collapsed on the ground in utter disbelieve. All the myths and legends were true all along.
“King Phantom.” He spoke in awe and bowed before the king as did equally shocked Doctor Fate.
“Hi dad!” Marvel yelled and dragged the laughing magician by his coat to greet their new arrival.
All of their associates looked between the clear powerhouse of a being and their red heavy hitter in utter incredulity at the revelation. Zatara and Fate near had a heart attack at the way their magical colleague addressed the mythical presence. Marvel had a father? And this horrifying existence was it? What sent them reeling even more was how the king’s responded.
With his arms stretched he lowered himself fully to gather the two smaller men in his embrace.
“Kids! Boy, when you said that you needed help bad I think you might have underestimated a tiny bit.” He joked with a toothy smile as he moved to get a better look at his more-or-less willing captees of his affection. His expression softened even more at the face of Constantine, not the others could see.
“John, it’s so good to see you as well.” He said softly and ruffled both of their hairs, eliciting a laugh from his youngest and indignant pout from his fourth oldest who tried to swat the offending hand away.
“Whatever.” John growled but Phantom didn’t mind since he could see the blush caking his scratched up cheeks.
Now this drew his attention, both of his boys were in horrendous shape and he would do something about it after his job was completed. Looking at the blood willed sky no longer colored by his green and the burning wreckage that is this dimensions earth, he knew he didn’t have much time.
“I suppose we should get this over with then. You two better get back to the Keep after this, understood.” He stated and then was gone just like that.
Now that the oppressive feeling of death and power has left along with the godly being, every single one of the heroes present turned to the two for explanation. Marvel send a pleading look towards his brother, but John pointedly turned away and began to nurse his briefly forgotten drink which was now empty, damn you dad.
Discreetly gulping his nerves down he twirled to face his peers.
“Okay, let’s start with one question at a time please.”
This caused the floodgates to open and Zatara practically jumped him in his feverishness.
“You are a son of King Phantom? The King Phantom? I thought he was nothing more than a myth! A legend told through out several histories!”
As Marvel was trying to dislodge the man he was approached by Doctor Fate.
“I too held the believe that he was nothing more than a story to strike fear onto the forces of evil and to aspire heroes of both old and new. To think he was real this entire time.” He mused, and before Marvel could say anything, Flash barged in as well.
“And what about you John? This might be the first time I’ve seen any otherworldly being be happy to see you.” He pointed at the man who chose to wisely stay far behind.
“Fuck you too!” Shouts the offended man from the back. Even if it’s true doesn’t make it any less rude. And oh look here comes Batman.
“Enough! Marvel, explain.” He demands as he moves effortlessly to the front of the pack.
“Well… you see-” Marvel stammers as he tries under the pressure to come up with something to say but was thankfully saved by the sky shifting again.
As quick as a snap the red sky was returned to its blue color, signaling the King’s victory over his enemy. Marvel smiled widely and even John couldn’t stop a heavy sigh of relieve from escaping his mouth. Good old dad, always up to any task he comes across.
“Incredible.” Wonder Woman gasped, even Lantern had to give an impressed eyebrow at the instant change in atmosphere. And while everyone was distracted by his dad’s handiwork, Marvel shimmied his way to the grumpy magician who was in progress of making his getaway.
“I think we should continue this some other time, there’s a lot of cleaning up to do and me and my bro need to do a little house call. So bye!” He called out with a wave as he was crabbed and transported to their destination before anyone could stop them.
Others could do more than blink as Batman stewed in his place. In Lantern’s arms Superman began to stir.
“H-huh, what did I miss?”
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st4rfckerz · 6 months
Text
house sitter | anakin skywalker x reader
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word count: 2.5k
warnings: MDNI 18+, kinda non con ???, somnophilia, groping, unprotected sex, creampie, infedelity, mild degradation, fingering, oral (f receiving), age gap (anakins in his 30s, reader is an adult), anakin's a pervert.
summary: you watch over the skywalker's home while they're out on a date.
a/n: this might be all over the place so i apologize BUT this is actually the idea i was talking about when i posted "i just woke up with the horniest fic idea."
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house sitting was without a doubt the easiest job you'd ever had. all you had to do was lounge around in expensive homes and watch out for intrusions, which, for the record, hardly ever happen.
the famous skywalker family had employed you to watch over their house while they went on dates, visited other planets, etc. you had gotten to know the couple pretty well, especially anakin since he was always friendly with you and often times would spend time speaking to you, although it was never anything more than just light conversation for him.
you noticed that anakin had spent more time talking to you lately and was starting to become a little bit more attentive towards you, he had always been kind and friendly but you felt his friendliness had become more... intentional, but maybe you were just imagining things.
padmé called you to inform you that she and anakin were going out to dinner and would be gone for the majority of the evening.
you've just pulled up to the skywalkers' driveway, parked your car, and started approaching the stone walkway. after a few knocks, anakin finally opens the door with a small grin plastered across his face. he couldn't help but feel a certain thrill at the thought of having you around again.
"hey, glad you could make it." anakin greeted you at the door, his dark blue eyes took you in for a moment before he steps to the side to let you in. padmé approaches you while still putting in her earrings.
"thank you so much for watching the house while we're gone," she beams.  padmé's enthusiastic behavior always made you smile. 
"of course, padmé. your house is in good hands." you replied with a gentle smile. anakin caught your gaze and you couldn't help but notice the way he was looking at you. his eyes had an almost dreamy but slightly lustful gleam about them. you choose to ignore it and bring your attention back to padmé.
"we'll be back at around midnight." as anakin and padmé bid their farewells and depart for their much-anticipated date night, you find yourself standing alone in the grandeur of their house. the silence envelopes you, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning.
you take a moment to admire the opulence surrounding you, marveling at the elegant decor and lavish furnishings. the house was a reflection of anakin and padmé's status and influence, a testament to their power. as you explore the various rooms, you can't help but imagine the passionate moments that must have unfolded within these walls.
the master bedroom beckons to you with its inviting ambiance - a room that surely holds countless memories for anakin and padmé. you imagine them tangled in each other's arms, their bodies entwined, lost in a world of whispered promises and shared desires. a wicked thought creeps into your mind - a fantasy of being the one who arouses such passion in anakin.
shaking off the enticing daydream, you divert your attention to the rest of the house.
you stumble upon anakin's personal study. your interest is sparked because, although it was normally locked, it was slightly open. it was a room filled with ancient jedi texts and mechanical tools. it's here that his true nature is laid bare. the forceful fervor with which he delves into his studies mirrors the intensity with which he pursues everything else in his life. you can't help but be drawn to his passion, intrigued by the raw power that lies within him.
you come across a bookshelf filled with an assortment of literary gems. pulling out a weathered book, you settle into a plush armchair, relishing the tranquility. lost in your thoughts, you find yourself sinking into anakin's chair, surrounded by his aura.
you open the book slowly, the faint smell of aged paper wafting up to greet you. each word holds the potential to shape the very fabric of your understanding of the force.
as you begin to read, the words dance across the page, captivating your attention. the author's insights into the force captivate your imagination, revealing ancient practices and techniques that have long been forgotten. you find yourself engrossed in the descriptions of lightsaber combat, the delicate balance necessary to harness the power of the force, and the connection between the physical and spiritual realms.
lost in the world of the book, you almost forget the reason for your presence in this house. the vivid descriptions transport you to a realm where you are the jedi, wielding a lightsaber with grace and precision, matching anakin's own skills in the heat of battle. you imagine his presence beside you, his body pressed against yours, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses. your mind is left with the image, a luring invitation to give in to the craving.
a sense of guilt washes over you like a bitter tide. anakin is still married to padmé, having these thoughts feels wrong. thoughts of anakin, his intense gaze, and his tempting touch linger. anakin and padmé's love is palpable, their connection evident in every glance and tender gesture. you brush off your thoughts and pick up the book to divert your attention once more.
you make your way down to the living room, with the book in your hand, and you find a cozy spot on the plush couch. the room is dimly lit, casting a soft glow on the surroundings. settling into the cushions, you open the book, eager to immerse yourself in its pages.
as you continue to read the exciting stories within the book, a wave of drowsiness washes over you. the cozy atmosphere of the living room lulls you into a tranquil state.
your eyelids grow heavy, and you find yourself sinking deeper into the plush cushions of the couch. the words on the pages begin to blur, the lines fading into a hazy backdrop and before you know it, sleep claims you completely.
about an hour or so later, anakin arrives home unexpectedly. stepping through the door, an unexpected sight greets his eyes. there you are, sound asleep on the couch, his gaze drifts down to the book resting against your stomach.
"nosy girl." anakin mutters. his mouth curves into a sly smirk as a sinister thought starts to take shape. he sets the forgotten item aside, his attention now fixated on the curves of your body, the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. slowly, he approaches, his footsteps barely audible against the soft carpet.
with a gentle touch, he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingertips lingering on your skin for a brief moment. he contemplates waking you, but the feeling of his dick twitching from inside his pants leads him in a different direction.
you looked so peaceful, so perfect. anakin finds himself yearning for the sound of your voice, the touch of your skin against his, the taste of your lips.
anakin's hand reaches out tentatively. his fingers brush against your cheek, the touch soft and delicate. with each stroke of his fingertips, anakin's touch becomes bolder, his hand gradually sliding downward. his fingers trail lower, caressing the delicate curve of your collarbone before continuing their descent.
he runs his fingers over the top of your breasts, then reaches down to cup one, giving it a light squeeze. he groans slightly, feeling his growing erection press harder against the zipper of his pants.
anakin's hands began to slide up under your shirt, rubbing small circles over your hardening nipples. his fingers moved slowly along the soft skin of your stomach, grazing your hip bones before coming to rest at the waistband of your pants. he watched intently as your body responded to his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips. with a confident yet tender touch, anakin begins to slowly slide your pants down your legs. his eyes devoured the sight of your panties.
a grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he noticed the adorable pattern of small flowers adorning the white fabric, adding an innocent touch to the moment.
"oh poor baby." he coos. his fingers skimmed lightly over the fabric that covered your core. feeling the dampness seeping through the fabric, anakin's eyes sparked with desire. unable to resist, he carefully slipped his hand beneath you, skillfully removing the delicate fabric and stashing them in his pocket without disturbing your peaceful slumber.
anakin marveled at the sight before him, the delicate folds of your wetness glistening in the dim light of the room. he couldn't help but be captivated by your beauty. the sight of you laid bare, vulnerable and inviting, sent a surge of anticipation through his veins.
with a gentle touch, he traced his fingers along your inner thighs, relishing in the softness of your skin. his gaze locked onto your core, his desire burning hotter with each passing second. he wanted nothing more than to taste you, to bring you pleasure in the most intimate way possible.
anakin lowered himself onto his knees, ensuring every movement he made was as silent and gentle as possible. he positioned himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving your pussy.
as he prepared himself to taste you, anakin carefully parted your folds. with a controlled release of his breath, he lowers his mouth onto your cunt, his tongue tracing a path along your folds. anakin moans lowly as he inserts a single finger inside of you, feeling how tight and warm you were.
anakin's movements were gentle yet purposeful, each lick and slow curl of his finger intended to bring you closer to the edge of pleasure. he was careful to maintain a rhythm that wouldn't wake you up.
as his tongue danced across your heated pussy, he couldn't help but be entranced by the way your body responded to his ministrations. the twitches and shudders, the soft moans that slipped past your lips—each one only fueled his own desire to give you more.
anakin pulls himself away from your drooling cunt once he feels that you're getting close.
"not yet baby, i wanna feel you cum on my cock." he whispers while pulling off his belt and shoving his boxers and pants all the way down to his ankles. his cock stands proudly, a small bead of precum dribbling down his shaft. anakin strokes himself a few times before carefully positioning himself between your legs and entering your pussy completely.
a moan escapes his lips as he firmly thrusts into you. he moved cautiously at first, savoring the exquisite tightness of your embrace as he began a slow rhythm, each thrust drawing him further into a frenzy of arousal.
anakin reveled in the feel of your cunt gripping him tightly, the way your walls massaged his length with each thrust. he was lost in the intoxicating sensation, focusing solely on the raw pleasure that consumed him.
you gasp loudly in shock, finally emerging from your sleep, and anakin hastily turns to face you.
"anak-" anakin's large hand abruptly covered your mouth, silencing your words before they could form completely. his intense gaze bore into your eyes, his face dangerously close to yours.
"finally awake now huh?" he teases, his voice laced with a hint of delighted amusement. he allowed himself a moment to revel in the fear that flared in your eyes, the allure of pushing boundaries and igniting forbidden desires too tempting to resist.
as he continued thrusting into your abused cunt, his motions grew more purposeful and commanding.
anakin's voice, dripping with authority, took on a more degrading tone. "my little bookworm couldn't help herself, hm? just had to go snooping around." he nods in the direction of his office.
"been thinking about this pussy ever since i hired you," he pants in between thrusts. "i've seen the way you look at me. eye fucking me every chance you get, right in front of my wife too? dirty, dirty girl." anakin chuckles, shaking his head.
as your bodies entwined, he deliberately increased the intensity of each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin bouncing off the walls.
anakin felt a mixture of ecstasy and need flood his senses as your core compressed around his length, causing his breath to get caught in his throat. the intensity of the moment fueled his own arousal, pushing him closer to the edge of his own climax.
"cum for me baby, i know you're close." his words sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, fanning the flames of your arousal. anakin's hands gripped your body with an undeniable possessiveness, his body moving with an inescapable rhythm that drove you closer to the edge of release.
anakin's hand remained firmly covering your mouth, your moans muffled as you finally tip over the edge. he continued to thrust into you, his pace steady as he chased his own orgasm. anakin's body convulsed, his cock twitching deep within your pussy. you could feel his hot cum painting your insides. anakin's movements finally come to a stop before he pulls out of your sore cunt.
he swiftly pulled up his pants and underwear, his movements were tinged with a cold detachment. without a word, he threw your pants in your direction, his actions lacking the tenderness he had displayed moments before. the forceful gesture caught her off guard, leaving her momentarily stunned as she caught the garment.
"next time, we'll put that pretty mouth to good use." his hand gently cupped your cheek, giving it a few taps. his touch a mixture of possessiveness and affection.
with a last lingering look, he slowly made his way towards the door, leaving you behind, savoring the remnants of your passionate encounter. the room carried the heady scent of your intimacy, an echo of the fervent connection you and anakin had shared.
as you put your pants on, you see the book on the floor that you carried down from anakin's office. you close it after picking it up and place it on the coffee table in front of you. the weight of guilt bore down on you, tainting the air in the room with a mix of remorse and self-doubt. your head buried in your hands, you grappled with the conflicting feelings that threatened to overwhelm you.
the memory of your intimate connection replayed in your mind, it almost made you feel sick. a pang of empathy pierced through you. padmé flashed in your mind, her image haunting and filled you with concern.
you continued to house sit, carrying the weight of your guilt alongside your duties. in the midst of the forbidden desires that you and anakin shared, you sought solace in fulfilling your responsibilities, hoping that in time, the guilt would fade, and clarity would guide you towards a resolution.
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lxvvie · 6 months
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Being in a relationship with Ghost would consist of the following, part deux:
Refusing to let go of Simon so he can get out of bed or else the bed will feel cold and lonely without him. This happens every time. Of course he doesn't want to leave, luv, but shit needs to get done.
Having a random-ass conversation over Simon's choice of cigarettes and why he prefers them.
We've talked before about wearing his boxers and hoodies, right? But you've become so comfortable with them that you've taken to wearing... just about everything else. His boots? You slip them on to take the trash out. His sweats? Throwing them on to make a quick store run. His jacket? Well, shit, it's cold as fuck outside so why not wear it over his your hoodie.
Nicknaming him Si-Bear. Because he's Simon. And because he's a big, cuddly, grumpy teddy bear. Because he's Si-Bear. That's his name on your phone, too. It's not like he stops you from calling him that. You might get a "Bloody hell," or a groan, or see him rolling his eyes but you're convinced he secretly likes it. And then you accidentally called him that in front of the boys once and he was THISCLOSE to throttling Soap because only his baby can call him that.
You tend to make an excuse sometimes to hug Ghost if only because you want to bury your face in his chesticles and grab his ass. At the same time. Bonus points if he has sweatpants on and at that point, your hands are IN his pants clutching those marvelous asscheeks. The fucking things he does for love.
(Based on this ask) Purposely touching him when your hands are cold just to see if he'll jump and it's your turn to be in the doghouse now lmao.
Calling his name dramatically just to tell him you love him. ("SIII-BEEEEAARRR!" "...Hm?" "...Love you." "...Love you, too.")
Doing your best impression of Ghost which actually makes him chuckle.
Realizing that his sweet tooth is as big as you are dramatic.
Ordering him a U-shaped full-body pillow so whenever he comes home injured his sleep will be comfortable. The look he gave you when you told him that was hilarious. Ghost is quite sure he looks like a fucking fool but he'll give credit where is due. It's a damn good pillow.
Ghost not believing you when you say his expression gives disappointed dad vibes sometimes so you take a picture of him, show him, and... you're in the doghouse again lmao. ("How 'bout a kiss, Si-bear?" "Too busy looking disappointed to give you one, love.")
Paying him a compliment about a feature of his—say, for instance, his eyelashes—and getting this smart-ass response: "Good genes."
Drunk Simon being the most clingy koala to ever koala. You're practically glued to him. You roll over, he'll roll over, too, and now he's on top of you. Like hell will he let you go. Not when he's finally bloody happy. That's so sweet, Simon, but the kitchen's calling your name, and a midnight snack sounds really good right about now.
Tracing the contours of his hands and tattoo with your finger because why not?
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ncis-nerd · 8 days
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Our Princess
princess reader x servants!wandanat
warnings: cheating, pevert wandanat, jealousy, innocence kink, smut, pet names, slight non-con, dubious consent, oral (r receiving), dom!wandanat.
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marvel masterlist
They knew what they were doing from the first moment they laid eyes on you. Fuck you were so perfect, the way your eyes widen when you giggled. How your dress rode up when you were watching TV. How innocent you were.
Your first interaction was when the two ladies were cleaning up. Wanda was washing the dishes in the kitchen with her apron on, Natasha sweeping the floors. That's when you wandered in, barefooted in a pink nightgown.
"Oh! Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt you guys!" you exclaimed, backing out of the kitchen. Natasha shot Wanda a smirk. Wanda met her gaze, they both were thinking the same thing- how fun messing with you would be.
Wanda bowed in your presence, "Don't mind us, princess." She purred. You, oblivious to their tactics, hummed in response. Making your way to a cabinet that was a bit too high for you. You stood on your tippy toes, your hand attempting to grasp the handle. In the process, your nightgown begins to ride up, giving the two women a view of your flowery underwear.
Fuck you looked so good like that, Natasha bit her lip. Wanda smacked Nat's arm, you were dating Maria and were their boss. You could ruin their lives with the flick of the wrist. But you were so addicting, they couldn't resist.
From that moment on, they'd try everything to be in your path but you suspected nothing. They were just trying their jobs, that's why you caught Wanda folding your underwear and Natasha sweeping the living room floor while you were trying to watch TV.
---
You hummed, reading a book in your little sundress. You were tanning in your backyard by the pool. Maria, your girlfriend, was coming over to hang out with you. The sun was particularly hot today so you figured why not spend the day outside.
You had sunglasses on, that protected your eyes and a towel draped over your chair. You couldn't wait to play with her in the pool. Maria is your girlfriend and she's the same age as you. You guys went to school together and Maria admitted her love for you so the logical thing to do was to get together. At first you were hesitant but not for the reasons Maria thought. No, it wasn't internal homophobia, it was the fact that you hadn't been with anyone before. But Maria didn't mind your lack of experience.
"Hey hun, your girlfriend is here." Natasha spoke, ratherly harshly but nonetheless drawing your attention. Wonder what must of gotten her upset.. Your eyes followed her as she went back into the house. The door opened behind her, your girlfriend came out.
"Mar!!!" You squealed, running into her arms. She smiled and picked you up, "Hey princess!!" She chuckled, carrying you bridal style, to the seats. "Missed you" you mumbled in her arms.
--
Wanda and Natasha watched from the windows. A feeling of jealousy sprang from this. It should be them out there with you. For you to run into Wanda's arms and Natasha to be the one carrying you.
For it to be their bodies against you, not that girl who couldn't care for you like they did. You needed real women to teach a delicate thing like you.
Natasha bit her lip as she watched Maria's hand rest on your ass. The way a innocent kiss from you, turned into Maria climbing onto of you. She began to leave kisses on your skin, marking you up. Maria looked up for a second, making eye contact with the two servants. She knew they were watching and was testing them. Daring them to try and stop this, to try and take her girl.
--
You whimpered softly, you couldn't believe this was happening. Maria straddled you and began to bite and suck on your skin, leaving hickeys all over you. "Mar, that hurts" you mumbled against her. "Let me have my way with you doll, I promise you'll be satisfied by the end." She pushed,
The two women watched this interaction and saw it unfold. The way you were pushing back against Maria, how she ignored your protests and just dismissed you. They had enough.
"Maria your parents called, they said it was an emgerncy and they need you home" Wanda spoke. Maria jumped off of y/n and hurried out after giving her a little peck on the forehead and a quick "goodbye".
--
After a moment of silence, Wanda made her way to you. You were sitting on the chair, your chest covered in marks from your girlfriend. A slight pout on your face. "What's the matter, dear?" Wanda cooed, Natasha coming up behind you with the same faux concern. "Yeah darling, what's got you all frowny? Hm?" Natasha hummed.
"Maria" you mumbled sadly, you didn't know why your girlfriend was suddenly acting like that. She said she'd take things slowly for you, but maybe it was going too slow for her liking.
"Awe, princess." Wanda whispered, stroking your back gently. "You know honey, we saw what happened. I think the problem is that you are such a delicate thing and your girlfriend doesn't understand that. A little thing liek you needs a real, mature woman fo help you navigate." She purred.
--
"I think she might be ready for us Wanda, this seems like the perfect timing." Natasha whispered in the hall, trying not to let you hear the conversation between the two of them. "I don't know Nat, she seems like she isn't interested. You saw how things went down with Maria. A simple kiss turned her off." Wanda protested.
--
Your face turned red, you were still thinking about what Natasha said earlier. How they'd treat you right, that you needed a mature woman teach you.
You began to feel an ache between your thighs. It was so wet and sticky, you didn't know what to do, so the only logical thing to do was to go ask the pair.
Your pillow bumps your clit as you make your way off your bed. You jolt in response, that feels weird but a good kind of weird. You attempt to gain that feeling back, of course not knowing what you're doing due to a lack of experience. Your hips rut against your pillow. You sigh gently, biting your lip to stiffle any sounds. A moan escapes your lips when suddenly you hear a voice hum in amusement.
You turn around to be greeted with Natasha's eyes which focused on the wet spot of your pillow and Wanda who was only smirking at you. Her eyes on your chest. Your nipples were hard and peeked through your thin tank top.
"H-How long have you been standing there?” you froze.
--
"Mhm" you cried out. Fuck, you looked so good like this, they just wanted to take you but they restricted themselves. A fragile little thing like you needs to be treated like a princess. Natasha's tongue circled your clit, your hips buckled against her. "She's so responsive." Natasha mumbled against you, the comment directed towards the other servant.
Wanda had you against her, your back to her front. She held your hips in place for Natasha. "There, there, it's okay princess. If it's too much just let me or Natty know" She whispered softly.
inspired by @esouliie
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