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disneyprincemuke · 4 months

Text

everybody talks too much

alternatively: logan accidentally forgets his relationship is meant to be a secret

(series masterlist)

"so the people want to know," the host pauses with a small grin. "why are you always carrying (y/n)'s stuff on a race weekend? it's been brought to my attention that it happens every weekend without fail."

a picture flashes on the screen, one of them entering the paddocks where he's got two bags over his shoulder. one that's visibly his with the fluorescent yellow, and another with a big black cat keychain hanging off of it.

another is presented: the race is over and he's got his helmet hanging on the tips of his fingers from the strap, and then he's got her helmet in his arms.

"well, it's just something we've done since we started our junior career, actually" logan shrugs, smiling at the memory. the conversation had gone simply when they were friends: carry her things to look like a gentleman.

the concept did actually work before they got together, girls gawking at his generosity and very gentlemanly behaviour. and it sort of just carried into their normalcy after they got together. it's also his subtle way of being able to play the part of her boyfriend to the public without giving too much away.

"and you know, she's my girlfriend, so i've kinda got to-" logan stops himself as he processes what he said in his head. he laughs sheepishly, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

the host stares at him, wide-eyed with a knowing grin. "i mean, my best friend," he corrects himself with a knowing point at her. "for like, a really long time. it's really just routine for us. i think before we got a lot closer, oscar was the one doing it for her a lot."

and thankfully for him, the host continues on with another question. and he just knows he won't hear the end of this from his pr manager, and his girlfriend would never let him live it down.

logan sighs tiredly, closing his mouth. across the table, oscar throws his head back roaring in laughter as he clutches his stomach. "it's not funny!"

"it's so funny," oscar wipes away a tear that's formed in his eye. "you called her your girlfriend in front of - what - hundreds of people?"

beside him, lily sighs tiredly and shakes her head. "i'm sure it was very nervewracking when you slip up like that."

"it was," logan sighs. he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at his earlier predicament. "i'm so lucky that the host literally just moved on without saying anything. but i know just from her smile that she knows i'm lying."

"mate, even alex can tell you're lying!" oscar bursts, holding his head in one hand with the other clutching his chest. "you've got to brush up on your lying skills. you guys will get caught before the season is over if you keep this up."

"keep what up?" she approaches the table, pulling the empty seat out next to logan. they all stare at her, logan just dropping his head in shame. he thought she'd have known by now what happened because it's all alex and george could talk about when he saw them.

lily shifts in her seat uncomfortably. "you don't know?"

"is there something i should know?" she laughs nervously, looking at lily and oscar. then she turns to logan, who's been strangely quiet. with his silence and avoiding her gaze, her smile drops and she slumps her shoulders. "did you do something? ba- logan, i swear if you dropped another one of my makeup palettes... i don't know what i'll do to you."

"i accidentally called you my girlfriend on stage," logan mutters, folding his arms over his chest. "i got too comfortable."

a small smile stretches her lips. she turns away from logan before resting her wrist on his shoulder. "i know."

"you know?" oscar's jaw drops. "and you're not mad?"

"it was getting a bit boring, anyway," she shrugs, picking up the menu that's laid flat on the table. "also, max approached me and told me what happened. and then he asked me, and then carlos came and asked me... and then alex and george..."

"you're seriously not mad?" logan frowns, peeking up at her slightly to meet her eyes. "i'm sorry. i know you don't want anyone finding out - it's honestly hard enough for you. you don't need problems like this making you feel worse."

"no," she laughs, squeezing his shoulder. "i think it's funny watching everyone put up a whiteboard with red yarn trying to connect the dots to debunk our relationship status."

she turns to logan and shakes him. "seriously, baby? don't worry about it."

logan sighs. "okay, if you say so."

"this conversation didn't go the way i'd hoped," oscar frowns, picking up his menu aggressively. "i wanted to watch you guys fight."

"you're such a good friend, oscar."

kidy/n

liked by sebastianvettel, oscarpiastri and 64,307 others

kidy/n guys don’t worry he’s still single and he’s been reprimanded for calling me his girlfriend 🙏🏼 (we made him pay me 20 dollars)

view 2,975 comments…

user1 my entire world has been shattered

user2 like exactly wdym it was just a mistake calling her his gf??

user3 no no theyre together in my head

liamlawson30 hey why am i there

kidy/n u were in the frame 🤷🏼‍♀️

liamlawson30 wow people dont even ask for consent anymore

kidy/n ok sry

logansargeant my sincerest apologies, i keep forgetting youre a single girlboss 🙏🏼

kidy/n apology accepted (i want 20 dollars more)

user4 NOOOOOOO TAKE THAT BACK

user5 LOGAN FIGHT BACK

user6 oh thank god

user7 k hater who asked u

oscarpiastri was funny watching logan get scolded

user8 leak the footage

oscarpiastri she took my phone away before so no video evidence ☹️

user9 Y/N U HATER

kidy/n it was necessary, he leaks too much 😀

user10 and here we thought logan was hard launching

user11 istg it it ever comes out theyre dating, im harassing her with this moment

kidy/n u wont ever catch me 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

user11 y/n pls just date logan 🙏🏼

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #female driver #fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x you #f1 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke ial #disneyprincemuke vr

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crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington · 3 months

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yooooo!!! you’re my favorite ethan winters artist i just wanna say that first and foremost, thank you for the wholesome content of my comfort character and father figure 🥹🫶

i’m really curious bc i feel like i see a lot of people against mithan (not me personally, i’m p neutral on them!) but i’m curious to know all your thoughts on them! thoughts on their canon relationship, their fanon portrayal, the backlash against them/mia accusations, and your headcanons? i’m just really interested!!! hopefully that’s not weird :”)

have a good day!! sparkle on!!! ✨💖

i heart mithan... i think that they can be so cute...

i personally hc them t4t and i like to think that the dated in highschool before they both had fully transitioned

mia likes to bake and ethan likes to scrap book and he always likes to take pictures of mias cakes/ baked goods and has a album for them 😭

i am a multishipper so i draw a lot of ethan ships so my girl is left out sometimes and im sorry mia 😔

i actually really like their relationship, its a really complex dynamic that i like to talk about with my friends

i think the issue is that when talking about mithan or mia in general, theres just SO MUCH misinformation that its honestly a pain the butt to talk about

people still think that she was responsible for the creation of eveline, people still think that she experimented on eveline, people still use examples of her attacking ethan as if she did it on her own will instead of being mind controlled

in reality she was just someone who oversaw the transportation of evie. im not excusing her or anything because obviously she knew what she was doing, but people really try to accuse her of doing something she didnt and it bothers me alot lol

the problem with the fandom is that people either try to water her down to girlboss who did nothing wrong and fail to acknowledge the complexity/ moral grayness of her character and the other side is misogynists 😭😭😭😭

its hard to talk about her without people either going "stop trying to villainize her and make her look bad!" or people ACTUALLY villainizing her and acting like heisenberg would have treated him better 😭😭

mithan is such a sad relationship because they loved each other so much and that ended up being the reason their relationship fell apart (sort of... its not like the broke up... ethan kinda just straight up died)

i get a lot a trouble for saying this, but mia is a selfish person.

its not a bad thing! well i mean it is but it doesnt make her some evil witch who is somehow worse than the guy how made a werewolf american ninja warrior. its just a major character flaw she has! which is good! mia being a flawed person who makes mistakes and morally gray decisions make her a more interesting person!

she is selfish in the way that she wants to keep her family with her no matter the cost. even if it means lying to ethan about her job so that he wont think different of her. here is a interrogation from the re7 DLC, which is easy to miss!

she isnt necessarily trying to apologize for the things she has done, she is more of a, "u wont need to forgive me in the first place if we just forget it all and move on"

she doesn't try to redeem herself for what she has done, she tries to move on and return to the normal life that she wants so bad. which is fine! everyone copes a different way and she has to right to move on from her trauma. the problem that lies in this is that she has a shared trauma with ethan who still has no idea what went on in dulvey and still effects him till the present (he is mold! this is a important thing to know! most people would want to know if they were a walking corpse)

she played a direct part in what happened in dulvey, and im not referring to the email, she did not send that. she never wanted ethan to come in the first place. she tried her best to send a video to him, begging him to forget about her because she wanted to protect him, BUT it didnt send.

he got involved because she was involved. its honestly a series of really really unfortunate events.

THOUGH! she did know what she was getting into. im tired of seeing the narrative that mia was innocent and didnt know what was going on or was simply a bystander. she knew what she was doing, she knew eveline was a bioweapon, she knew eveline was a child. she used a MACHINE GUN! she knows how to use weapons and was obviously trained for it.

she tried her best to keep everybody out of the mess, ex: warning the bakers not to take them in, warning ethan not to find her, sacrificing herself for ethan in the later half of re7

but again, those are the consequences of HER actions

her consequences just happen to get really big and end up hitting ethan on the head like a metal sheet 😭

their relationship is really so interesting, it makes me really sad to think about sometimes 😭they both went through something that nobody else would ever understand, in the end they really only have each other. they get moved to an entire different country and the dulvey incident gets covered up with a "gas leak"

its really tragic because their marriage definitely had some flaws and bumps. and i know im repeating myself but its because people always take this in the worst way possible but just because i say their relationship was rocky doesnt mean im saying they dont love each other!!! thats the entire basis of mias character!! saying she doesnt love ethan would destroy her entire character!

you can see in the re8 DLC how fondly ethan talks about mia! he loves her so much, though im not sure if his comments in the DLC are him narrating current (post re8) or his thoughts before everything went down and he died (pre re8)

everything mia did was because she LOVED ethan. she would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, she is not a cruel person. she hides the truth of her job from ethan pre re7 because she loves him and doesnt want her job to drive them apart. she CONTINUES to refuse to tell ethan the truth post re7 because she wants to move on a live a happy normal life with him and knows something like her being directly associated with the connections would probably cause (more) problems. she refuses to tell ethan that he is mold because again, hard to live a happy marriage with your husband after you tell him hes a bioweapon.

obviously i dont think it was right that she did this, thats what makes her selfish! she did it for herself! she did it for her family! she thought it would work out, she thought that they could move on and be happy together.

the issue is that ethan didnt want to forget. he wanted to know what happened, he wanted to know the part mia played, he wanted answers! which is reasonable! he knows to some extent that mia was partially responsible for his involvement and he was always suspcious that mia was lying to him about her job which is implied when mia says "you were right, i did lie to you"

she doesnt learn, she doesnt stop lying, her lies get bigger and worse and it sucks yeah but it makes her so interesting!!! she keeps doing stupid things under the idea that this is whats best for her and her family, that if she hides this everything will work out and it will be for the better but its not!

just because telling your husband hes dead and a bioweapon is a hard subject to bring up doesnt mean you DONT bring it up. people shouldnt use that as a reason to excuse mia 😭, its a very bad excuse and honestly highlights how horrible their communication skills were. you cant just not tell your husband that he is actually infected with the mold and not tell him for the tree years between post re7 and pre re8.

im not saying these things to put mia down, or try and villanize her. these are all just actual things her character does! she isnt evil, but she isnt a knight in shining armor either. we need to be able to have talks about complex characters without crying everytime someone points out a flaw. characters have flaws! and mia just happens to have a lot of them!

im not mad at her, i dont dislike her because i think this way of her. shes a fictional character! you can like characters that are morally gray, or villains that drink blood and make corpse soldiers. they are fictional! pointing out the flaws of a character does not mean i dont like them.

i wouldnt call her "the real villain of re8" but i wouldnt treat her like a damsel in distress either. she is a competent person, she knows what shes doing, she has her reasons for doing them. she made bad descions with good intentions behind them! they can coexist and we should let them!

i like mithan! its a complex relationship because they both love each other so much but hurt each other in the process

talking about them is just a pain in the butt because talking about mia is a pain in the butt lol

i really hate how she keeps getting sidelined, its super frustrating to see mia get put in a cage in every game 😭

its even more frustrating that mia straight up just disappears???? in the shadows of rose DLC... like she just stops taking care of rose and theres nothing said about it. no reason or explanation. i dont think mia would ever ditch rosemary because she didnt care about her, but we probably will never know because capcom sucks at writing and they probably forgot the mia ever even existed.

all in all, i think the fandom is really just full of misinformation which make people either think mia is some horrible evil person, or its full of people who think that saying mia messed up is the equivalent of comparing her to wesker lol.

i really love mia, shes a incredibly fun and complex character, its just hard to enjoy her sometimes with the people in the fandom haha.

also ive got no idea what u meant by "the backlash against them/mia accusations" so sorry if i didnt answer that!

thank u for the ask! sorry for the long response!

#mia winters #resident evil #ethan winters #mithan

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ohtobeleah · 9 months

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Vice //

Summary: Bobs one vice in life just so happened to be the very embodiment of what banished Adam from paradise. The human equivalent of that stupid fucking apple that he and Eve ate. You were Bob's forbidden apple: His only vice in life. His guilty pleasure and undoing. You were Jake Seresins little sister.

Warnings: Bob Floyd x F!Seresin!reader. Age gap. Reader is 24. Bob is 35. Smut! 18+ only. Unprotected sex. Oral both male & female receiving. Porn with a slight plot. Star crossed lovers.

Word Count: 5.4k

Author Note: Lewis fucked us all up with this stellar outfit. Now it’s Bobs turn to fuck us.

“You enjoying the party?” Robert Floyd, for the most part, was an enigma of a man. He didn't drink, he didn't smoke, he didn’t gamble or participate in extreme sports. He didn't seem to have any sort of vice or undoing that threatened to short circuit his usually settled persona. His ability to just exist without an urge to go a little off the rails drove Jake Seresin up the wall. “Or at least trying to?” Jake asked as he nudged at Bob's shoulder.

The usually egomaniacal aviator had invited all the Daggers to his family's summer vacation home for a weekend off. And let’s face it—If there was one thing the Seresins knew how to do it was throw a fucking party. And oh boy, did Bob Floyd have a reason to accept that invitation–because unbeknownst to his entire team, the people who knew him better than most, he did in fact have an undoing, he did have a vice.

That vice just so happened to be the very embodiment of what banished Adam from paradise. The human equivalent of that stupid fucking apple that he and Eve ate. You were Bob's forbidden apple: His only vice in life. His guilty pleasure and undoing.

You were Jake Seresins little sister.

“I'm officially Nats personal beverage holder.” Bob replied as he stood with Jake overlooking the deck littered with people dressed in ridiculous neon he didn't know, didn't care to get to know and people he knew of that really didn't seem to know he was there. Except Jake's immediate family, and the Daggers. “But yeah–it's been a good day.” Lies, complete lies. Bob just wanted to go home. He wanted to change out of the ridiculous outfit Phoenix had helped him toss together and just be. His only reasoning behind accepting the invite out to good ol Texas was you.

And much to Roberts Floyds dismay, he hadn’t seen you all day. You weren't present at the Seresin family get together. That was a crime in and of itself, but Bob couldn't blame you for skipping out. Hell he kinda wished he had to.

“Why don't you let your hair down a little?” Jake smirked as he took the beer in Bob's hand and took a swig. It was now his, Phoenix could get another one. “Crack open a beer, kick your feet up?” Jake continued as the sun had begun to set over the waters edge. “You’re off duty, and I won't snitch.”

“I'm good.” Bob smiled softly, this just wasn't his thing. It was clearly Rooster's thing though, he hadn’t stopped all day. He’d been running a complete muck with Coyote for what felt like forever. Bob was pretty impressed the guy was still standing. “I haven't seen your sister around?” Bob tried to play it off as casually as he could, but there was a split second in the silence that followed where Bob thought that his casual curiosity could have been taken as more than just that. “Just noticed she wasn't here, the rest of the Seresin gene pool is.” It was the easiest excuse Bob could have given to throw Hangman off his scent. Jake raised a single brow for a few seconds as he looked at his fellow aviator–trying to decipher if there was more to that statement than met the eye. But as he took another sip of the beer he’d stolen, pondering, he decided Robert Floyd wasn't exactly your type.

“Nah, she's still in Alberta the last time I spoke to her.” Although there was a caution in Jake's tone, he gave Bob the reason behind your absence. “Living the life of the young and the free.” He chuckled to himself softly as he shook his head. You had always been what your family considered a ‘Flight Risk’. Jake understood it, your parents not so much. You were the black sheep, the one out of the three Seresin siblings that didn't have a career plan by the age of fifteen and a scholarship to college by graduation. “Miss her though.” It was then Jake looked at Bob with squinted eyes before he placed the now empty beer bottle back into his hand. “Don't ever tell her I said that.”

Hang on–Was that supposed to be a test? Bob didn't know what to say, so he cleared his throat and shook his head as he pressed his lips together in a fine line. The safest thing to say right now was nothing at all. Play meek. It worked out well enough for him so far.

“Try to at least look like you’re enjoying yourself man.” Jake teased as lovingly as he could before he turned to head on down towards the lake. It really was a beautiful time of year, Bob would at least admit that.

While everyone around him seemed to be overindulging in extracurricular activities that made Bob feel more like a recluse than ever before, he wandered into the lakehouse that could technically be considered a mansion. The place was massive. Made of old pine and oak. He made his way upstairs to the bathroom closest to the room he was sharing with Fanboy and Rooster. He thought he’d hide out for a while, have a shower, decompress, and hopefully find it somewhere inside himself to enjoy the rest of the festivities to come later in the evening.

But as Bob turned the handle on the old wooden door that led into one of the many bathrooms in this mansion-esk lake house the Seresins owned, he was stunned to see you stepping out of the shower in a towel that just barely covered your ass.

“Hey! Do you mind!?” You hissed at the sound of the door opening behind you. Bob's jaw nearly hit the ground with a thud at the sight before him. You were the last person to expect to see here. Especially not even fifteen minutes after Jake had just told him you were still in Alberta. In a whole other country, a million miles away from where he wanted you to be.

Here.

But somehow you were. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a cruel summer after all?

As you turned around to see who had inadvertently forgotten the universal code to knock before entering a closed bathroom to scold whoever it was that intruded on your privacy, your hardened expression of annoyance softened almost immediately as the person standing in the doorway. Not yet in the bathroom, Bob stood still in the hallway silently and in shock. How were you even here right now? Naked in the bathroom after what seemed like a shower? With sopping wet hair and glazed skin.

“Jesus Christ Bob don't you knock!” You hissed as you reached over to pull Bob into the bathroom by the neon muscle-T he wore. Before you shut the door and made sure to lock it, you looked both ways down the hall. Nope, not a single soul was in sight. Good. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Bob's eyes lit up at the sight of you before him. His eyes were clear as baby blue crystals on a good day–but whenever he was looking at you? Robert Floyds eyes let you know where home was.

“What are you doing here?” Bob asked as he watched you walk over to the vanity to continue drying your hair. Holding it to one side as you looked at him in the mirror looking at you. He stood behind you with hands gently holding your hips, thumbing at the fuzzy fabric of the towel that clad your curves. “Your brother just told me you were still in Alberta. I've spent the most of my day looking around for you only to find out you weren't even coming.” A one sided smirk appeared across your face as you watched Bob duck his head to kiss the exposed skin of your neck. He paused against you to take in the aroma of your body wash, Raspberries and Juniper. “But yet here you stand? What gives, kid?”

You and Bob had a complicated thing going. The first time you met the big eyed, bigger hearted Weapons System Officer was at a ceremony acknowledging the efforts and near sacrifices the Daggers had made during the uranium mission that saw your older brother permanently stationed in North Island.

Bob was the cute guy who never took his eyes off you the entire night, he swore he could watch you for hours on end without ever getting tired of the view. You reminded him of someone though, your mannerisms, your laugh, the way you show boated when you won that game of darts against Rooster. That's when the penny dropped.

You were Hangman's little sister. Forbidden and untouchable.

“I heard that a certain detachment team was on the annual invite list and changed my mind last minute.” You explained softly as you held Bob's arms in your own around your waist. His chin fell to your shoulder as he held you tight to his chest. Looking at you looking at him through the mirror in front of you. “I missed you.”

“Is there a reason why you’re out here in the cold instead of inside where the party is, Lieutenant?” Bob heard a voice coming from behind him as he looked out over the back deck of the Hard Deck. he just needed some fresh air to wrap his mind around the fact he thought a Seresin was stunning.

“You must be the famous sister we’ve all heard so much about?” Bob replied as he watched you come to stand beside him, fishing out one of those stupid vape things Fanboy had told him about from your back pocket. “Hangman talks highly of you.” Bob's eyes lingered on the way you held it to your lips, he watched as you inhaled, held, pulled the contraption away from your glossed lips and gestured it out for him to take as you blew the excess away.

“Reluctantly, that's me.” You admitted. “You’re Lieutenant Floyd.” Bob's heart skipped a beat when you said his name. He wanted to ask you how you knew but his expression must have given it away because through a soft chuckle of your own you answered the question on the tip of his tongue before he even had to ask. “It's pinned to your jacket.” Right.

“Those things will kill you ya know.” Bob smiled softly as he watched you take another hit as you looked out over the railing, leaning against it with your elbows. “Aren't you worried?”

“As opposed to flying F-18’s into enemy territory on highly classified missions?” You shot back through a teasing smile before you pocketed the thing you knew you should probably give up before it became an addiction. “We all die soon enough Lieutenant Floyd, living in the moment is more my speed.”

“Bob.” Bob replied with a soft smile. “You sound like your brother, but please, call me Bob.” There was a moment of silence shared between the two of you before you looked the aviator up and down with a knowing eye. Before Bob knew what he was doing, he was following you down the steps towards his car, he was the designated driver for the evening for Phoenix, Rooster and Payback. But after you leaned in to whisper in his ear the hottest thing he'd ever heard– Bob venmoed them all enough to cover a taxi.

“Well Bob, Bob Floyd, do you wanna get out of here?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Bob knew it was wrong, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded to your request. He did want to get out of there, with you. Yes. He’d never wanted to get out of somewhere more in his life. You were gorgeous.

You snuck in through Bobs garden gate every night that summer just to seal your fate.

“I missed you too.” Bob held your gaze in the mirror as his hand began to wonder. You didn't stop him from exploring, but your graze broke from his as you watched his slightly callioused and large hand roam down the expanse of your towel clad pelvis. Slowly, seductively, all the while he broke from looking at you to kiss the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “You stopped texting me?” It was a question disguised as a statement, but you knew Bob wanted an explanation to your sudden lack of contact. It had been just shy of two entire months. “You miss me but you stopped texting me? That's a little contradictory, don't you think kiddo?”

“I was trying to get over you.” Whimpers, that’s what your words came out like as your head fell back against Bob's exposed shoulder. His hand kept exploring—lower and lower until finally he was peeling up the fuzzy fabric of your towel. Creeping between your legs right where you wanted him. “You’re my brother’s—“ Before you could explain that you felt sick of yourself for crossing the line with Bob, his fingers were delicately and deliberately slipping past your slick folds as your knees nearly gave in. You had to reach up and out around Bob's necks to steady yourself. Your breath caught in your throat as Bob's nimble fingers worked to slowly yet oh so perfectly tantalise your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“I’m not your brother's anything.” Bob growled in your ear. You brought out a primal instinct in the Weapons System Office not a single soul but yourself had ever seen. “You ghosted me.”

“You’re thirty five.” It wasn’t enough of an excuse not to fuck you. Again that was. Over and over and over again.

“And you feel twenty something.” Bob smirked against your shoulder. The same shoulder he worked to mark up. “How old are you again?”

“Twenty four—“ It came out barely above a whisper as you spread your legs a little wider as Bob spread your pussy apart. Circling the very spot he knew was your undoing. Its only purpose in life was to bring pleasure, that sensitive bundle of nerve endings. “Bob—“ You breathed as he snaked his supporting arm up from around your waist to untuck the white towel that had been hiding your perfect silhouette from him. It had been far too long for Bob's liking. “We shouldn’t—“ But Devils roll the dice and angels roll their eyes. What didn’t kill you made you want him more. “We really shouldn’t.”

That fact was a no brainer. Bob knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be here in the bathroom of one of the most extravagant lake houses he’d ever seen. He shouldn’t be hiding away with you, Hangman's little sister, with the pads of two of his fingers dancing over your clit as you wither away in his warm embrace. He shouldn’t be obsessed with the way you sound trying to contain the whimpers that threaten to escape you as your arousal coats his digits.

Bob shouldn’t have slept with you the first night he met you. He shouldn’t have slept with you in the days and weeks that followed. He shouldn’t have felt the way you came around his length like you’d never felt an orgasm before. He shouldn’t have laughed when you told him you were starting to catch feelings—and Bob definitely shouldn’t have told you that he may or may not have been falling in love with you. Because that’s the last time he heard from you before you ghosted him.

Bob knew he shouldn’t. But he was going to over and over and over again because he only had one vice. One undoing.

You.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Bob groaned as he stopped his taunting ways and spun you around to face him. The sudden loss of satisfaction made you pout, but when Bob shifted you up onto the vanity as he stood firmly between you legs, that pout vanished rather quickly. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk away. I’ll go back downstairs to that shitty party.” For a moment Bob reverted back into his normally reserved self. He ducked his head so your gaze couldn’t match his own. “I only came here with the hope in mind you’d be here.”

It made your heart skip a beat inside your chest. You really liked Bob. He was kind and compassionate and he listened to you when you spoke, he didn’t just stand there and nod. Pretending. He valued your smile and your laugh and unlike your brother who gave him chronic headaches on his best days—Bob seemed to like the time he spent with you. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“I want you.” Was all you said before you were fisting your palms into the fabric of Bob's muscle-T. Since when had he gotten so big? Bob wasn’t this big when you last saw him. His arms were the size of tree trucks now. You would have remembered that. “I’ve never not wanted you.” It felt so wrong but oh so right to admit as you pulled Bob's shirt up and over his head before you tossed it away. Forgetting its existence. “I'm sorry I ghosted you, it’s just you’re my brothers—“ Before you could finish your sentence Bob's lips were on yours in a feaverish kiss that took your breath away. His hands cupped at your cheeks to keep you close before he wrapped his digits into the mess of wet hair behind your head.

“We all die soon enough, living in the moment is more my speed.” Bob interrupted as your eyes glazed over his, searching for any ounce of regret he might have. “Where’d that version of you go? The one who didn't care?”

“She died when I started falling in love with you.” It was enough to send Bob over the edge as he drank in the sight of you. All his for the taking as he caressed your cheek with one hand. “That's why I left, you told me you loved me and I knew I loved you back and that's crazy, this, is crazy Robert.” Trying to deny inevitable feelings was never a good idea. All it did was cause chaos and suffering for both parties involved. “You can't love me, and I can't love you, it'll never work and my brother will kill you. He’ll delete you off the face of the earth!” You tried to smile through the tears that threatened to spill very momentarily. “And I don't know about you, Bob, but I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Bob cooed as he ran the pad of his thumb across your lower lips. “Right now though? I just wanna be with you.” With gentle hands you worked at the belt buckle that was cinched around Bob's waist. Looped around the jean shorts he wore that made his outfit all the more atrocious. “I've missed you, missed everything about you.”

“Well Lieutenant–” You teased as you discarded Bob's belt to the side, it landed on top of the muscle-T he’d once been wearing as you slowly worked to unzip his fly. “Now seems like as good a time as any to get acquainted.” Bob's lips were once again on yours in a needy lust filled kiss the second he could break his gaze from your beautiful eyes. His hands were all over you, exploring your curves and dips as you sunk your hand into his boxer briefs. Palming him off as his soft moans echoed against the back of your throat.

“Oh god–” Bob choked out as you worked your fist up and down his erection, standing to full attention and straining against the confines of his shorts. “Baby, baby I'm dying here.” It was all mumbled into your mouth as Bob continued his assault on your mouth, his tongue danced with yours expertly like it hadnt been two entire months since he’d last seen or felt you. “Let me get these pants off.”

With a giddy grin that expanded ear to ear you pulled back so that you could watch Bob shimmy out of his jorts. He was a sight that made your mouth water. Since when did he get so fucking big?

“You've been working out?” You asked to fill the silence that filled the bathroom. Bob hopped around on one foot for a second as he tried to rid himself of the remaining articles of clothing that still adorned his body.

“Yeah well it was either that or through myself a pity party because the woman I admitted my love to up and vanished into thin air.” Bob huffed as he stood up straight, completely naked and exposed in front of you. “So yeah, I worked out, alot.”

“How's your cardiac output?” You teased as you watched him step closer to where he’d left you on the vanity, pumping his hardened length a few times as he did so. “Because I’m in real need of a good fuck.” Bob's cheeks flushed a crimson hume at the way you spoke to him. He loved it, no one ever spoke to him the way you did. So open and free. “Make me feel good Lieutenant.” You pleaded through a needy whine as you felt Bob pull you forward by your hips. Lining you up with the tip of his shaft. Teasing your entrance as he slid his tip between your folds, collecting your arousal with every move. The sexual tension was enough foreplay for the both of you. “Bob, please.”

With one motion, Bob was pressing himself inside you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Drawing him in as close as you could pull him as every inch of him slowly disappeared inside you. It felt heavenly, you felt full, complete.

“Ohh fuck–” You gasped when Bob bottom out and pressed his forehead to yours. “God did your dick get bigger too?” Bob chuckled at your remark as he remained still inside you, giving you a second to breathe and stretch to his girth. He had always loved the sight of your pretty and perfect pussy full of his cock.

“Not that I've noticed.” Bob smiled as he kissed you before slowly pulling out a few inches only to push himself back in. working up a slick rhythm that made the pair of you lose all sense of any consequence that may come of your impromptu rendezvous. “You’re perfect, so perfect for me aren't you baby?” It felt like heaven and hell all at once.

“Missed your cock.” You whined as Bob picked up the pace enough that it had your jaw dropping and your eyes rolling. “Oh god feels so fucking good.” You could feel the grip Bob had on your hips as he fucked into you–manouvering your body just enough that when his balls slapped against the curve of your ass his tip kissed your cervix. “Ahh–”

“Shh–” Bob pressed the palm of his hand across your mouth to silence your screams. “Do you want someone to find us?” He asked as he picked up the pace. Fucking you hard. “Do you want your brother finding out who fucks you this good? That you like older men? Is that what you want, baby? For him to catch us in the act so you don't have to tell him?” Your lungs felt like they had been ignited from the lack of oxygen as Bob kept his hand across your mouth and pressed up against your nose. It felt otherworldly, being manhandled like this, dominated.

Bob didn't dominate at anything in life. But he sure did dominate in the bedroom.

“Let me get a taste of you gorgeous.” Bob groaned as he pulled out of your fucked out cunt, watching as your arousal dripped out and down to your ass. He dropped down to lick a nice line up your pussy—collecting anything you’d give him as he settled around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Shaking his head all the while his glasses fogged.

“Ahhh! Fuck! Bob!” Your legs shook as your hand flew down to grip at Bob's hair, slightly damp from swimming, slightly dry from the heat of the sun he’d once been in. Now? He was between your legs, enjoying his favourite meal.

Bob lapped away at your dripping core for what felt like an eternity. You weren’t going to complain about it either as you pulled at his hazel locks and let your legs drape over his strong shoulders. You wanted so badly to say it out loud. Your heart was near bursting out of your chest with need to scream it to the heavens as Bons eyes met yours from between your legs. So you said it.

"I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?” Bob looked up grinning like a devil.

“So sweet, you’re like candy.” Bob's chin was coated as he came up for air, you were so close. “Let’s see how pretty you look when you cum all over my fingers.”

“Please, please—“ You were so desperate to feel that familiar release. “Bob, I wanna cum for you.” With lustful baby blue eyes that seemed three shades darker he slipped two fingers inside you. Coaxing you forward in a come here motion. Knowing exactly what to do and when to do it to send you hurtling towards you first, but certainly not your last orgasm. “Ahhh fuck! Yes—yess!”

“Oh I can feel you clenching around my fingers baby, why don’t you show me how pretty you look when you cry?” Bob knew you were standing on the edge with the way you were clinging to him. “Come on darlin’ don’t get all shy oh my now, cum of me.” It was as if your body knew who it belonged to as your feet rose and your legs shook. “Yeah that’s it, cum for me you filthy girl.” Bob growled as he watched your jaw slack. Your eyes began to roll into the back of your head as your chest puffed towards him. He pumped his fingers in and out of you so expertly that he had you gushing. Crying out his name like a perfect symphony.

“Bob, Bob, ohhh fuck Bob!” Bob grinned ear to ear as he watched you cum, watched your entire body burn from his touch and only his. There wasn’t another man on earth who could make you come alive like Robert Floyd could.

He fingered you through it, waiting until you were steady and breathing through it. Your back pressed against the mirror in an attempt to support yourself as Bob moved away to turn on the shower.

Steam immediately began filling the bathroom that smelled of sex and need. You didn’t need any more time to come down from your high as Bob came back over to you with a naughty look in his eye.

“What are you up to Floyd?” You giggled as Bob scooped you up off the vanity and carried you into the shower. Warm water rained down over the pair of you as Bob connected his lips to yours, pressing your back up against the cool tiles as you sunk low on his length. Taking him with ease as he slowly bucked his hips.

“Just taking care of you.” Bob mumbled as he supported your weight up against the wall. Fucking into you like you were his personal sex toy. “Love being inside you, so tight and perfect, all for me.”

Bob was quick to change his angle, he wanted to feel all of you, give you all that he could. As your tongues fought for dominance against one another Bob hooked his arms up under your knees and held your still. Bucking his hips into you with so much force it knocked the breath right out of your lungs.

“Ahhh fuck oh my god—!”

“Shhh, shhh I got you baby I’ve got you.” Bob smirked to himself. He loved the way you came completely undone for him. “You look so pretty like this, all fucked out with nowhere to run, I could keep you up like this all night.” That Bob could, the way his arms were glistening from the water pouring over you made you clench around him. He was big, bigger than ever before. “Oh god if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum.”

“Wanna taste it.” You mumbled as Bob fucked into you. “You’re cum, I wanna taste your cum.” Bob had to refrain from filling you up then and there. The way you said it with such a needy little whine had him just about ready to burst. “Please—please Lieutenant.” There was also something about the way you’d call him Lieutenant from time to time that also got Bob all hot and bothered. It was different with you, you made his official rank into something that could be used as sexual gratification. “Let me taste you.”

As Bob helped you get your feet down on the ground, Jake was in search of another bottle of tequila he could distribute shots with. Surprising, the house was empty—he thought he was the only one inside until he heard the unmistakable sounds of a man who was under the influence of sexual desire.

“Who’s that?” Hake chuckled to himself as he raced up the stairs, curiosity getting the better of him. As he reached the top of the stairs, Jake heard the unmistakable sound of running water through old pipes, mixing together with desperate moans.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, just like that darlin’ feels so good the way you're taking my dick down your throat right now.” Bob threw his head back as he held the back of your head with a splayed out palm. Helping to guide you up and down his shaft. “Gonna cum do that pretty throat of yours—“ Jake thought he was hearing things when he stopped outside the bathroom door. He swore he could hear Bob Floyd inside that bathroom. It couldn’t be, could it?

“Missed your cock so much— You giggled as you pumped your fist up and down Bob's shaft as he verged closer and closer to his high as you looked up at him. “Probably more than you missed me and my pretty pussy.” And that’s when Jake had to hold back the pride he felt for Baby Bob so it could make room for the rage that flooded his body in the moments that followed.

“Shut it Seresin, keep suckin’ me off baby I’m so goddamn close.” Bob guided you head back to the tip of his cock that he tapped against your awaiting tongue. You took him down your throat with ease, gagging as he held you still with your nose brushing against his perfectly trimmed tamed pubic hair. “Ohhhh I’m there, I’m so there!” Bob groaned as he felt his orgasm pooling at the base of his shaft. “I’m gonna cum! Arghh—!”

Jake felt a rage he’d never felt before bubble up inside his chest. He had never felt such a betrayal, Bob with his baby sister, with you. You were off limits to everyone—Jake always had his money secretly on Coyote since he’d known you the longest but Bob? The fucking WSO!? No. Not happening, or at least it won’t be happening again.

“Oh god I’m cumming—shit shit shit shit!” Bob pulled his throbbing cock from your mouth as you gasped for much needed hair. He tipped you forehead back as you opened your mouth and welcomed the hot spurts of cum that coated your face. Washing away under the fall of the shower head. “Fucckkk—look at you baby, so pretty coated in all my cum.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“For the record?” Bob held you close to his chest as you stood before the fogged up mirror once again. Showered and wrapped back up in a fresh towel. “I’d keep secrets just to keep you.” He sighed as he kissed your temple, dressed and ready to join the party once again. Knowing that you wouldn’t be too far behind him. “I’ll see you soon?”

“See you soon Bobby.” Just as Bob chuckled to himself and opened the bathroom door, an enraged Jake Seresin lunged at Robert Floyd, throwing a single punch that landed right against Bob's cheek that sent him down towards the ground with a thud. “BOB!” You gasped as you held your towel to your chest and raced to his aid as he groaned. “Jake! You ass hole! What the hell is your problem!”

“Consider that a fucking warning Floyd.” Jake scoffed as he shook his throbbing hand. He’d been waiting outside the bathroom ever since he came upstairs. “Stay the hell away from my sister.” Jake spat as he walked away, leaving Bob a heap on the floor of the bathroom as you cradled him in your lap. Fuck.

Yep. It was definitely going to be a cruel summer.

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

#bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd smut #bob floyd smut #top gun bob #bob top gun #hangman top gun #bob floyd x female reader #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd fanfiction

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luvjunie · 7 months

Text

— Unforgettable ( 3 )

part one • part two • part three • part four • part five

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: sooo much fluff, plot progression, a glimpse into reader and miles’ relationship, the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤭, and another itty bitty plot twist

summary: a bump in with a certain boy at the bodega threatens to ruin your previously perfect afternoon until he offers to fix it. you assumed things would end there, and then you ran into him again. wc: 3,254

a/n: i know y’all ain’t think i forgot about this series!!! but here’s a long chapter as an apology since i made y’all wait so long </3 also did i say an ‘itty bitty’ plot twist? cause i be lying. recap of part two is in small italics!

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“You had her approval as soon as you called her Mrs. Morales.”

Your head tilted in question, eyes panning to the ceiling in thought. “Isn’t that normal? Calling someone’s parent by their last name?”

A comfortable silence settled, just for a moment.

“You’d think so.” A smile curled Miles’ lips, the memory of when he’d introduced the first girl he’d ever liked to his parents flashing into his mind; his interest in tossing the ball paused momentarily as images from the past flooded his thoughts.

Wait… Why was he thinking about her?

. . .

“Miles?”

“Milesss?”

“Huh?” Miles blinked quickly as he brought himself back to the present, his slightly startled gaze landing on your puzzled expression.

“Earth to Morales?” Your tone leaked with a playfulness as you quirked a brow at him. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“Nah, sorry,” Miles cleared his throat, then scratched his forehead with a laugh he hoped didn’t sound too awkward. “Just spaced out for a sec. What’d you say?”

“I saiddd,” Laying on your stomach as your thumbs twiddled along the screen of your phone, you sent a quick text before you continued. “—It’s getting kinda late, and if I’m not home in the next thirty minutes my Grandma will alert the entire police force over my absence.” you chuckled, the perpetual buzzes of replies sounding from your phone only furthering your point.

“Oh— Yeah, you’re right. My bad, I didn’t even realize.” Miles stood and grabbed his coat from the hook off his closet door before he turned towards you with a warm grin.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”

—

Miles had been staring at his ceiling ever since he got back home, headphones blasting music over his ears to drown out the inevitable. For what seemed like hours, and for what probably was, he was trapped in an endless rumination he didn’t want to be a part of.

The grace his weekend temporarily granted him had unfortunately come to an end, and before he knew it, there was a knock on his bedroom door that reminded him of the upcoming drive him and his dad had to make back to Visions.

—

“Dude, this is so stupid. My head is about to explode from all this thinking.” Clad in a wifebeater and plaid boxers as he laid on the top bunk, Miles whined out what had only been his hundredth complaint in the span of fifteen minutes.

“And I can’t find my bonnet!”

Miles’ voice was muffled by the fluff of his pillow, the same pillow that was clutched tightly and caged between his arms as an effort to cling onto the last bit of his sanity. Also the same pillow that’d gone flat nearly two months ago. How convenient.

He thought talking Ganke’s ear off about all his feelings would help sort through his thoughts, but it did the exact opposite. Miles’ feelings for you were growing, that was an undeniable fact, so he still couldn’t figure out why after an entire year, Gwen was still on his mind. Why couldn’t he just forget about her?

“I really like this girl, man. Like, really, really like her. Like, Sunflower ain’t got shit on this girl, like her.” Miles blinked, astonished at his own words as he carried on, “Like, I offered to walk her home instead of having my mom drive her, like her—“

“Bro— Bro. I get it,” Ganke interrupted.

“I didn’t even know I could feel like this for someone else!” Pulling himself into a seated position, Miles let his legs dangle over the side of the bed. “I mean, I even let her meet my parents. You know how I am about that!” He exclaimed, arms outstretched as if they would help him present his case better. Ganke, in fact, did not know how he was about that.

“That obviously means I’m over Gwen! Right?”

No answer.

“Right?”

“I dunno, dude! Now you see why I don’t even bother dealing with that kind’a junk. It’s confusing as hell. “ Ganke’s eyes darted from side to side as they tracked the video game on his PC’s monitor, tongue poking at his lip in intense concentration. His half-baked advice to Miles was as much as he could muster without losing focus on his Call of Duty mission. “That’s love for you, man.”

Miles’ eyes went wide and his heart began to race. “Woah woah woah— I ain’t say anything about love!” Technically, he did, just in different words.

With a weighted sigh the controller plunked out of Ganke’s hands and down onto the desk, ‘MISSION FAILED’ flashing in bold onto the screen.

“Alright, look,” Ganke spun around in his chair and glanced up at the top bunk. “If you like this girl as much as you say you do, why don’t you just go for it? What’s stopping you? A girl who’s not even here anymore?” he scoffed. “Quit dwelling on the past and look at what’s right in front of you. You know, someone who’s actually in this universe.”

Miles sat with pursed lips as he stared down at his open palms, treading in the water of his thoughts.

“You know what,” Head raising, he looked to his roommate with a newfound determination. “You’re right, Ganke. Starting tonight, I’m done thinking about the past.” Miles nodded.

“Great, now either let me get back to my mission in peace, or grab a damn controller and help me.”

Ganke was right. Gwen’s gone, and she wasn’t coming back. It’s not even possible.

Miles let the conclusion settle within him as he dug around in the junk drawer for the spare controller.

It’s time for him to move on.

—

As you relaxed on your back in the room you’d been in more times than you could even remember at this point, head idly bopping to an album by Tears for Fears, you thought back to the time before you knew Miles. And even though you hadn’t known him for nearly as long as you’d known yourself— maybe just caught up in the whirlwind of something new and exciting, or him in general— you couldn’t help but feel as if his presence had been missing from your life this entire time.

Spending the day with him had become as normal as breathing to you. His space had become your space (his words), and it rang true as you hummed along to the tune echoing from the record player on his desk.

“Help me to decide. Help me make the most of freedom, and of pleasure. Nothing ever lasts forever…”

The song ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World’ wrapped you snug in a warm sense of nostalgia, it having been one of your favorites since middle school. And paired with being around your favorite person— you were sure you never wanted to leave this moment. You smiled to yourself at the upside down image you had of Miles as you let your head hang over the side of his bed, the beads on the ends of your braids clinking against his wooden floors when your head tilted with a new found query.

“Miles,”

He hummed, but it wasn’t the kind that sounded as if you’d interrupted him, or as if he were annoyed. It was the kind that let you know he was interested in whatever you wanted to tell him, and that you had his attention even if his eyes weren’t on you.

“Okay, bear with me here. And answer carefully, because this kind of decides the type of person you are and whether I’ll even speak to you afterwards.”

“Wait, what is it?” He quickly looked up at you—upside down you, at least— with concerned eyes and you struggled to hide your grin.

“What color do you think science is?”

“Are you serious?” He deadpanned.

Your brow raise was his answer.

“Green, obviously.”

“Interesting choice. Why green?”

Miles shrugged, “Cause of the environment. Plants are green. And when I think of plants, I think of photosynthesis. Photosynthesis, equals science. Therefore,” pen in hand, he made a ‘viola’ gesture. “Green.”

“Mm,” You scrunched your nose, eyes panning back to the ceiling. “I guess I can see that.”

“And math is blue.” He tacked on.

“Blue!?” You balked, flipping over onto your stomach so his face was right side-up now. “Math? Blue? Are you deadass?”

“As dead as ass can be.” Miles quipped with a snort and continued to scribble away at the page he’d been sketching on for the last half hour.

“History is blue, not math!” You scoffed.

“Alright Y/n, what other color would math be then?” He asked incredulously.

“Red, duh.”

“Red?” He repeated breathlessly. “Why would math be red?”

“Well,” you started, “Math makes me angry. And when I think about anger, I think about the color red, just like everybody else does. And I hate red, just like I hate math. Numbers and letters do not belong together, just like pineapple on pizza. Therefore,” you mimicked his previous gesture to the air with a confident grin. “Red.”

“Pineapple— Numbers… What?” Miles blinked at you with both disbelief and confusion, the corners of his mouth threatening to expose his amusement as they lifted. “That’s it? That’s your grand explanation?”

“Mm-hm.” You hummed proudly, chin perched in both your hands.

Miles shook his head as his smile finally made itself known, dimples and all the moment your lashes batted at him.

“Not gon’ lie to you, that sounded like a whole bunch’a bullshit.” He laughed at your fake offended expression.

One of Miles’ favorite things about you was how you always seemed to ramble about everything, and nothing at the same time. He thought it was adorable.

“Well, the math part I understand, I guess.” he shrugged. “But you can’t possibly hate the color red all that much.”

Your brows furrowed at him, “What makes you say that?”

“Cause,” Miles turned his sketchbook towards you, the drawing he’d been working on this entire time revealed to be a moment he’d caught of you, gazing up at his ceiling just the way you were a moment ago. “Look.”

You nearly felt your heart stop as you took in what was in front of you. All this time while you were in your own world, singing along to whatever song came and went, he’d been focused solely on you. You dragged your eyes up from the paper so they’d meet his, your calves swiftly tucking under your thighs when you rushed to sit up in a straighter position.

“I—Is that me?” You blabbed out before you could think.

“Nah, it’s Boo-Boo the fool.” Miles huffed out a laugh. “Yes, it’s you dummy.”

Gentle strokes of red to the thin paper framed your face and lips, the attention to detail he used brought your eyes to life on the page, and he’d even managed to capture the beads on the bottom of your braids, too.

“How the hell did you do that?”

He shrugged shyly and turned his artwork to face him once more, studying the page as if he hadn’t been doing just that all this time. His heart was beginning to race faster than he’d originally predicted, and he wondered if he should’ve shown you.

“It’s kind of muscle memory at this point.”

Miles heard the words that came out of his own mouth, and you did too, but it was like the both of you comprehended exactly what he’d said at the same time.

“Don’t—“ He tried, but it was too late, you were already gushing, and he was already blushing.

“Awwwww!”

“Please—“

“Milessss!” you teased, ignoring his plea.

“Stop it.” Flustered, he shielded a smile behind his hand and tried to look anywhere else but your face.

“You’re so cute when you blush.”

—

Things were beyond easy with Miles.

The two of you never ran out of things to talk about and he always matched your energy, as if he were the other half of you.

There were no awkward moments, or pressure towards the other about making a move, because deep down you both knew what this was, and that everything would fall into place with time.

It was apparent in the way he looked at you, in how perfectly you fit in his arms when he hugged you goodbye, and how you always relaxed in his embrace when he would hold onto you just a bit longer.

Your first date went perfectly. Well, not really, but that’s what made it even better.

An ominous ‘be ready in 20 mins’ text to your phone and about a half hour later, Miles popped up at your door, pink tulips in hand and a smile big enough to match his signature jacket.

The two of you decided to catch a movie after a short train ride to the theater, and he let you pick. Horror being one of your favorite genres, that’s what you went with, and like everything else that came with you, Miles agreed.

But just thirteen minutes in at one of the simplest jumpscares (if you could even call it one), Miles let out a scream belonging on one of the highest vocal registers your ears had ever heard, and it sent you into such an uncontrollable fit of laughter that you ended up accidentally spilling your fresh popcorn all over the floor.

Miles’ ego wasn’t nearly big enough for him to remain embarrassed once the tears started rolling from your eyes, and eventually, the laughter he tried to stifle made itself known to everyone sitting around you. And when you say everyone, you mean everyone.

It only took two minutes of you guys cackling and snorting before the both of you were asked to leave, and you had no idea how you made it out of the theater with how hard your stomachs were cramping.

—

Sure, the movie hadn’t gone quite as planned, but you didn’t mind and neither did he. As long as you both were in each other’s company, you wouldn’t mind watching paint dry.

The blue hue of the night had long enveloped the city, and as you and Miles sat up on the roof of his apartment, the dimmed fairy lights twinkling in the darkness from where they were strung across the perimeter, you made a mental note to study up on the movie you told your Grandma you were staying out late to see.

You leaned into Miles and rested your head on his shoulder, knees pulling to your chest as you exhaled softly.

“You cold?”

Far from it, actually.

A perpetual breeze prompted your bodies to curl into each other more, though goosebumps and chattering teeth were nowhere in sight, only fingers secretly inching closer and hearts growing fonder.

“I should be asking you, I’m wearing your jacket.” you joked.

“Nah,” he chuckled. “I’m alright.”

The silence was comfortable. You didn’t want to go home just yet and Miles wasn’t ready to say goodbye for the night, so you stayed.

This had become a new norm for the two of you, so much so that this was pretty much how all your hangouts ended. You’d stay just a little longer, and then he’d take you home. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but for some weird reason you always felt much safer when you were with Miles, like he’d be able to protect you if anything were to happen when the two of you were together.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Have you ever been in love before?”

Miles’ voice was quiet, nearly drowned out from the lively sounds of the city around you. You were surprised you even heard it.

You swallowed, and it took so much effort to form your lips around the simple word you answered with. “W-what?”

He cleared his throat as his posture straightened slightly. “Like, do you know what love is? Is what I mean...” He clarified quickly, mentally cursing himself for how badly he worded things, even if it’s what he meant. He didn’t even know if you felt the same.

You lifted your head from his shoulder, prompting his own to turn towards you, but you didn’t meet his eyes. You settled for toying with the sleeve of his jacket as your heart began to thrum a little faster.

Nibbling at the inside of your lip, you inhaled quietly before answering. “When they’re the first person your mind thinks of when you hear the word ‘love’. Or maybe when the thought of them gets you out of bed in the morning instead of your alarm clock. You know when you know, basically. That’s what I was taught, and I think it checks out.” you glanced over at him, and he felt like time stopped when your eyes locked.

“Do you?” you asked.

“H-Huh?” Miles was enthralled with how pretty you looked, and how your features were perfectly illuminated by the gentle glow of the city lights, so much so that he could hardly think straight.

Rolling your eyes and suppressing a giggle, you shook your head at him. “—Do you know what love is, dummy.”

“Not exactly— uh, I don’t think so, no.” Miles’ jaw tensed and his gaze met yours once more. The twinkle in your eyes temporarily dimming due to the fear of this all being in your head.

“Oh.” you murmured.

“But I think I know what it feels like.” He said softly.

“Really?”

Lips parting slightly for a shaky breath to pass, Miles nodded. “Positive.”

Your eyes fell down to his lips almost immediately, then lifted back up to see that his had done the same to yours.

“Well… What does it feel like?”

The question left your mouth long before you could’ve thought to stop it, yet regret was the last thing you felt. What you were feeling was something entirely different.

Your faces grew closer until your noses brushed against each others, a second spared as a chance for either of you to bail on what you both knew was bound to happen in a matter of time.

He leaned in and you let him— let your arms curl around his neck and his around your waist so your lips could meet faster. Let your lips move against each other’s because it felt right, because that’s what you knew love to be. Letting something happen because it felt right.

He felt right.

Miles pulled away, but barely, his breath warm against your lips. “Come to my parent’s party tomorrow?” He blurted.

Hands holding the back of his neck, you blinked yourself out of your daze, brows furrowed. “What?”

“My dad, they’re making him police captain. We’re celebrating tomorrow, here, and I want you to come.” Miles licked his lips. “Well I— I was gonna invite you anyway. But now I really want you to come. And I wanted you to come before this happened, obviously—“

“I’d love to.” You smiled, and let him pull you back into him the second you’d given your answer.

—

Miles remembered what it was like to be so head over heels in love with someone that it consumed him entirely. How it corrupted his days and fogged his mind with nothing but the thought of them, and he could feel himself slipping back into it again, but this time, with you. And if he were being honest, it kind of scared him, how quickly you’d claimed his heart.

But what he did know was that you liked him, and he liked you. He’ll admit, he didn’t expect his feelings for you to develop as fast as they did, for them to hit him as hard as they had. But he was past that now. Tomorrow was going to be special, and not just for his family, but for the two of you. He was finally going to take the leap he’d been too scared to make before tonight.

You were the perfect girl, that he was sure of. And who’d be dumb enough to not accept perfect when it was right in front of them?

He wanted this. He wanted you.

But any chance for another sensical thought was interrupted when the impossible happened.

‘Impossible’, being the multi-layered hexagonal portal that suddenly opened up on his ceiling, and the blonde-haired, gap-toothed girl he thought he’d never see again, appearing with it.

Bright and beaming down at him with a heart-halting grin, Miles felt his stomach drop as soon as she spoke.

“Miles!”

Shit.

taglist: @burymeinside @secret-ssociety @whatamidoing89 @urmotherswhor3 @valovesyou @inlovewithfictionalppl @edgyficuselastica @motherwanda @mybfmiles @axeoverblade @miumiulicious @sukisprettyface @gwennesy @simpnotapimp @kanvis @cleo-dearts @retirement-home @lunaramune @silas-222 @citrusequalsfrogs @itsberrydreemurstuff @spritecranverry @mewhenimanangel @wisteriaflowersss

(if you asked to be tagged and i didn’t tag you, that’s because your user didn’t show up 💔)

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse fanfiction #miles morales x reader #miles morales fluff #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales fic #miles morales x you #earth 1610 miles x you #earth 1610 miles x reader #miles morales x black reader #miles morales x black!reader #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #1610 miles x reader

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dyssonant-skyline · 2 months

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I have been working on an Angel Dust redesign/rework for a bit but I've sort of stalled at adapting his story while being respectful. When I fully figure them out, I'll make a more formal post with more final art.

I really love arthropods, especially chelicerates which are what spiders/scorpions/horseshoe crabs are. I had a whole college report on arthropods so I'm gonna get a bit rambly about them. First of all, spider butt is called a thorax and Angel's prob needs some resizing her to make everything more balanced. I wanted to give them 8 legs and have their arms represent pediplaps, the little "hands" spiders have. Then the actual fangs of a spider (called chelicerae) are on the sides of Angel's head. The eyes have no anatomical basis, but having 2 be larger than the others is a jumping spider thing, which is the kinda fuzzy spider I imagine Angel is supposed to represent. Anyway, Angel is very rarely in full drider form, usually just having 2 legs present.

I am considering retooling Angel's story completely so that it is about the importance of engaging with bdsm & fantasies in a safe way, (Using safe words, not using things that could actually harm your partner, aftercare). Angel would start out loving working at Val's because he gets to engage in a lot of fantasies he has and get paid for it... but he gets advertised as "no limits" and he prides himself on not using safe words. His arc would involve realizing he can still engage with these fantasies while being safe & cared for as he breaks away from Val. Verity (Hellbound Hostel's Vaggie) would also have a bit of an arc in tandem with Angel where she has to reckon with sex just being a part of being human and shouldn't be considered a sin on it's own.

I wouldn't be trying to write something that makes a statement on sex work, but more of a message on safe sex over preaching abstinence... but I'm not sure I'm really experienced enough to tackle that? Please let me know if you have thoughts or criticisms over any of this.

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel redesign #dys draws #cw spiders #tw spider #spider tw #arachnophobia tw #tw arachnophobia #i stg i was looking up peacock spider reference images for a different color palette... and a ton of them were ai orz #reminds me of the baby peacock post just “IS HE NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU???” pointing at a real peacock spider doing his silly dance #Hellbound Hostel

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palskippah · 10 months

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Hi! You saw preg Bowuigi, but may I present to you… preg Mareach ✨

The thought won't leave my mind after I mindlessly drew Mario asking Luigi how is it to be pregnant and then it escalated from there 😔

So! Here's some headcanons (that you can find too in the drawings) for this:

-Mario and Luigi's mamma and uncle are twins, so they have this 'twin gene', and it just so happens that Mario got twins first try and Luigi didn’t.

-Mario has thoughts when seeing his bro expecting, he develops a serious case of baby fever that he refuses to tell anyone about. Like he catches himself thinking about him and Peach expecting and her acting in the overly attentive way that Bowser does, or thinking of a tiny blonde baby with a button nose and blue-sky eyes. He feels a bit guilty about these thoughts.

-Luigi eventually pries the information out of Mario and tries to convince him to talk to Peach about it, that she’d be understanding even if she doesn’t like the idea. Mario’s stubborn and just doesn’t and feels bad for wanting a baby too just because his bro is going to have one.

-To Mario’s surprise (and relief) it’s Peach who mentions the idea of having children (he feels a bit embarrassed that she easily used the exact words he scolded himself for: “I want a baby”), so they shyly entertain the idea. And they decide they'd like to be parents in the future.

-When Magma (that's the Bowuigi baby's name!) grows and gets to the toddler stage, Mario finally decides that they could start trying.

-(Corny and I pulled this from Deadpool 2 but) He gives the 'green light' to Peach as a sort of anniversary gift and she's so happy she jumps in place and holds him to her chest and rambles about what to name the baby and how they'd look and what they'll do together and– Mario jokingly reminds her that first she's gotta put a baby in him for that to happen.

-Luigi is really excited when Mario and Peach tell him that they’re expecting. He hugs them both and says he can’t wait to finally be an uncle, and that they’ll be great parents.

-Luigi spoils his bro the same way Mario did with him when he was expecting Magma, like baking him treats and his favorite foods whenever they’re at their house and overall being a very good bro.

-Soon Peach arranges a room to make a nursery and plans how it’ll be.

-When they discover it's twins she makes arrangements again to adapt it for two babies, assigning a color to each baby’s things, because she thinks that Mario and Luigi having their signature colors is adorable.

-When they’re back from the doctor after discovering they’ll have twins, they’re both happily thinking about two children. Peach of snuggly wrapped little babies with round noses and brunette hair, and Mario for some reason thinks of two blonde toddlers with matching hats and blue overalls.

-Mario's belly looks big soon and Peach is over the moon because he's so round and handsome.

-He's so shaped.

-Due to almost all of the Mushroom Kingdom citizens being small Mario often loses sight of them, especially when talking to toads. They love to stand close and right in front of him, even if Mario tells them to stand at his side so he can see them. Mario's pretty sure not even the toads can see him over his belly and yet they don't listen.

-Mario lives at Peach's castle but he and Luigi still kinda often stay at their own little house at the outskirts of Toad Town. Luigi sometimes goes by himself or brings some of his children. They like to have some kind of peace apart from their families and the royalness of it all. (Thinking about the fact that Bowser went on a vacation by himself as Junior said once in a game sjdks)

-Peach is very excited for the babies and she always asks for permission to caress his belly and to hold it and to kiss it. She talks a lot to the babies too, even at times holding very long one-sided conversations with them while Mario listens in with an absolutely besotted smile.

-Many nights, when Mario's sprawled on his side with his arms in weird positions and snoring away and Peach's at his back holding him, she mumbles on and on sweet words to her children and her boyfriend, and holds Mario closely.

-Ever since they know he's expecting, Peach randomly suggests baby names to Mario, who shakes his head or actually explains why he doesn't like them. She suggests one day a couple of names just for funsies and to her surprise Mario loves them.

-Peach leaves their bed very early to focus on her royal duties all morning, while Mario's asleep almost until midday surrounded by an insane amount of red and pink pillows.

-Peach eats red power up mushrooms to be able to easily carry Mario around when he gets too tired, that way she doesn't get tired either.

-Late on Mario gets the 'pregnancy brain', he forgets things and sometimes does stupid stuff. Once at their house he dropped a fork, and since it never crossed his mind to ask for help or pick another one from the kitchen cabinet, he ended up stuck in a crouch when trying to reach it, yelling for Luigi to come help him up.

-Donkey Kong and Mario are mean besties, and DK often teases Mario and vice versa. Like DK purposefully drops something and asks in a faux nice voice for Mario to pick it up for him, then does the laugh™ as Mario stares at him unamused.

-DK used to (gently) push Mario to sit in soft furniture and laugh at him for getting stuck. Mario would sulk and cross his arms over his belly until the stupid monkey dignified himself to help him up. Until DK did it one day that Mario had been particularly tired about the pregnancy, and besides the usual reaction he also got misty-eyed and his lower lip wobbled. DK freaked out and couldn't figure out how to console him as Mario silently cried. Peach almost obliterated DK on the spot when she caught them.

-Since then DK isn't as mean with Mario until the babies are born weeks later. Also, he's a bit terrified of Peach now.

-Magma, who's still a toddler, often asks her uncle-mama when the babies are going to come out of his belly so she can meet them.

-They have twin girls! They're identical when they're babies and kids but when they grow older they have more noticiable differences (like height, same as Mario and Luigi and their mom and uncle)

-They’re Nettarina and Mariella. Sadly I don’t care how silly the names are, I like them and so does Mario aksjdksajd

-Mario has strong genes so their babies look a lot more like him than Peach (who’s glad, because she wanted to have two mini Marios!), although he hoped they’d look more like her.

-Mario is already fat and he gets even fatter with the pregnancy.

-The girls (and Magma too) speak fluent italian and english.

And that’s what I have so far! I know i missed some characters that I could have mentioned like Daisy or Toad and others, but maybe I’ll think of them too for another post c:

I hope you liked them, and if you have any other ideas or headcanons feel free to share them, I’d love to know!

#super mario bros #mareach #princess peach #mario mario #mario #princess toadstool #mpreg #fankids #my art #HI this is a repost that can be rebbloged and it'll stay in your blog sjdksjd th original will be here in the blog too #but it got a content warning #so pls reblog this one so you can still view it in your own blog!#mareach fankid

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enassbraid · 9 months

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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 - 𝐑𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢

-> It's no secret Rin is horrible with words, let alone feelings. So he may need a little bit of help capturing the heart of the girl of his dreams... (1.2k words)

fem!reader (one time only thing) implied high school au, rin is bad at feelings but he manages, he also does not listen to anyone ! but he tried, kinda.

“It’s been six months, and you’re still afraid to tell her what you want?” Isagi said, astonished at the taller male’s way of going about this.

“I’m not afraid of anything, dumbass.”

“Then why don’t you tell her already?”

For the past six months, Rin had been pursuing his feelings for you. But has he gotten anywhere yet? Nope. And was it his fault? Absolutely.

Itoshi Rin was helpless, there was no doubt about it.

Anyone could see you felt the same way about him- hell, everyone has seen it. The way you swooned whenever he brushed his hand against yours, complimented you, or just looked at you. It was clear beyond a shadow of a doubt you shared romantic feelings for the younger Itoshi.

Rin knew it too, deep down at least. So why has he been taking his sweet time confessing? Avoiding it at all costs? It was simple really, Rin was scared.

“What if she thinks I’m insane?” He said flatly, putting his cleats back in his bag before exiting the locker room.

“Dude, if she thinks you’re insane for waiting so long, then that just makes her a hypocrite.” Isagi’s words were harsh yet true. You’ve both been going in circles for one another, waiting for the other to open an opportunity to declare their feelings.

Nonetheless, neither you nor Rin took the opportunities when they were presented. Leading to his current position, annoyed and confused with himself. Why was this so hard for him?

With a deep breath, Rin asked for a favor he never thought he’d ask any of his teammates. “I need advice.”

Isagi was stunned, not even he could see that one coming. He was more curious about why Rin thought he had that much experience with women, but that's besides the point.

“I got it!” A louder, higher pitched voice came from around the corner. “Bachira?”

“Just tell her! Say you waited so long because you were testing her loyalty!” For once the boy was dressed in the locker room, but it didn’t change the fact he was giving horrible advice. “Rin, never say that. Use the word ‘test’ and she’ll shut you out.” Isagi clarified.

“I don’t need your advice, bobcut.”

“What about mine? I have an older sister, so I’ve heard a thing or two.” Another voice added himself to the conversation, an unreadable expression plastered on his face.

“Because a princess knows what other princesses like…” Isagi mumbled to himself, a little confused on where Chigiri came from. Before Bachira popped in, he was sure he and Rin were the only ones in the locker room.

“I’d take yours over bobcut’s anyday… what do you have to say.” Rin looked in Chigiri’s direction, awaiting his response.

“Just tell her you like her. I mean, it’s clear she likes you back. But if she needed time or anything like that, say you would wait as long as you had to.” Chigiri’s advice was simple and straight to the point, something Rin should have been thinking from the beginning.

“And tell her if you ever did something wrong, you’d fix it right away. Girls like that sort of reassurance… I think.” An orange haired muscle man appeared from behind Chigiri. Apparently, that was Isagi’s last straw. “Where are you all coming from?!”

“This is the Blue Lock team’s locker room… and we just finished practice? This isn’t your personal hang out spot y’know.” Chigiri cut in, deadpanning at their prized striker. “Anyways, Kunigami also has a good point. Let her know she’ll be okay with you, even if something goes wrong.”

Rin piled all the advice up in his head, organizing it into a sentence he knew he could say. “Right…”

“So, are you gonna do it? Like right now? Today?” Bachira questioned excitedly, face brightening more than it was before.

“It’s none of your guy’s business.” Quite sick of being surrounded by what Rin could only consider ‘lukewarm idiots’, he rose from the bench he was seated on. “I’m leaving.”

“Not even a thank you, seriously?” Chigiri exclaimed as he watched the monotonous boy exit the locker room. Unbeknownst to him, Rin was actually considering thanking him. That is, if everything went smoothly. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact he was actually doing this, afterall.

Outside of soccer, Rin isn’t exactly the smartest. Sure, he’s good at english. But you might as well factor English in with soccer since that was his only motivation behind understanding it. Though he’s not an idiot. He wasn’t blind to your feelings, the same way you weren’t blind to his.

In short, Rin knew there was no way you’d turn him down.

The walk felt longer than any other. He had been sure to give you a heads up that he’d be over, so at least he wouldn’t have to wait any longer once he showed up at your door. Then again, that didn’t change the fact he was getting more and more nerve-wracked with each step he took.

Too lost in his thoughts, RIn didn’t even realize it had started raining by the time he was at your door. And even when he had noticed, he forgot almost immediately once you opened the door.

“Walking in the rain, seriously?” You deadpanned at the male, who looked unphased by his dripping hair.

“I didn’t realize.” ‘Shut it’ is what he’d add to that statement if it was anyone else.

“You didn’t realize it started pouring on your way here?”

“Just let me in already…” He groaned.

You stepped aside, allowing him to get through the door. He’s lost count of the amount of times he’d been in your home, but somehow it felt different this time. Perhaps it was the rain, making the lights look warmer than before. Or maybe it was because he knew things would be different once he left this time.

“How was practice?” You asked while grabbing a towel for him to dry off with, throwing it in his direction.

He caught it effortlessly, using it to squeeze the water out of his dark strands. “Lukewarm. No one learned anything outside of scoring their own goals.”

“Same old, I guess…” You mumbled.

It was quiet for a moment, finding peace in each other’s company. The peace alone said a million words, but neither of you said a single one. Until Rin finally spoke up.

“Listen…” He paused briefly, trying to align his words in order to not make a fool of himself. “I have something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” You both said in unison.

“I’m sorry! You go first, Rin.” Somehow, you already had a feeling you were going to say the same thing.

With a deep breath, Rin stopped cowering. “I know you know I like you… and you know I know you like me. So…”

“Do you wanna be my boyfriend? Officially?” You finished his sentence for him, tired of the agonizing wait.

Rin showed a rare smile, a real smile. It wasn’t a grin, but it showed the male’s genuine deep rooted feelings. For once, all his anger and resentment disappeared.

“I wouldn’t mind that. As long as you wanna be my girlfriend, officially.” He mimicked your words from before, earning a giggle out of you.

“So, do you think anyone will notice a difference?”

“Difference as in…?”

“Like how we act. Do you think anyone will notice we’re a couple now?” You elaborated.

Ah. Rin had almost forgotten half his team knew what he was doing, and probably the entire team by now. He grimaced at the teasing that was to come tomorrow, annoyed in advance. His expression didn’t go unnoticed by you, however.

“Who knows already…”

“The whole soccer team… probably.”

You both were in for quite a treat tomorrow…

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bucknastysbabe · 10 months

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✾ Happy Bday To A Sweet Lil Kit Named Liv ✾

Therefore I present to you:

♕ The Brother F**king Incest Spectacular ♕

For u bb @fairysluna

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW: incest, non/con|||dub/con, degrading language, bastard hating, DAERON IS AGED UP!!!!Greens won AU, Jace’s sister reader, gang bang, so much Incest, cunnilingus, sloppy seconds, double penetration, oral sex, pnv!sex, erotic crying, humiliation, Daeron is actually scared but likes her so they run off and be happy duh, Aemond and Aegon are Insane, multiple orgasms, rough sex, m/m/m/f, Jace is broken, why is there kinda angst? Idk

A/N: I don’t tend to lean toward non-con but the brother fucking incest spectacular had been brewed so read the warnings!

“Little Lord Strong,” Aemond sneered from the lofty bed, looking down with a haughty look on his sharp features. Jace squirmed and hissed at the one-eyed prick. His dear sister was pinned between Aemond’s lean legs, face red and teary.

Daeron was quiet, a terrified look on his face as he watched the scene.

Aegon, ever the deviant, palmed himself through his breeches, other hand petting Jace’s poor sister’s hair. He was grinning wildly, violet eyes fervent with glee. He giggled as his younger brother prattled on. Aemond cocked his head towards his siblings and said, “Well. You know what they say about bastards. Lustful, devious sort. I bet she’ll open up like a Lyseni pillow girl.”

Jace barked, “Fuck you! All of you are the deviants! Defiling my maiden sister for what?”

Aegon snorted, “She’s a lovely vixen, we won and you didn’t. Therefore we get our war prizes. Wanted to see what your cunt of a mother was so infatuated by a house as shite as the Strongs.” Jace grimaced and squirmed under his bindings, chest aching at the mention of his true father. The one who had taught him to be a man. He didn’t feel much like one.

Aegon yanked back her hair and got a good look at doe brown eyes, watery with tears, lips swollen more-so than usual. She pled, “Please, please, I cannot help being o-of this nature. Have mercy my king, have mercy!” The giddiness of Aegon’s face morphed into anger.

He hissed in her face, spittle flying, “Did your lovely mother and the rogue cunt give my children mercy?”

She wailed in sorrow, apologizing for something she had nothing to do with. Aemond was wielding the Valyrian ceremonial knife, pointing it towards Jacaerys. He sniffed, “Yes, Lord Strong, was there mercy when your dead brother took my eye, slaughtered my kin, set the kingdom aflame for a seat that belonged to us trueborn?”

Jacaerys remained silent, fidgeting in his bonds, trying to find a way out. There was murder and kinslaying on both sides. The bastard thought he was justified for little Luke. Jace was angry and humiliated. Tears fell down his darkened cheeks. Daeron spoke up, a soft lilt to the youngest brother’s tone.

“You won’t get out of those. Learned the best knots down on the docks of Oldtown. Best if you just sat back and let it get on with. Customary,” he nervously looked to the elder blondes, “Customary right?”

Aegon popped up from his spewing of vitriol, laughing as he reached for more Arbor Red, “Yes, darling Daeron, customary to make sure any dragon blood gets more seed. We have to repopulate. Sorry you must get the leftover bitch as wife.”

Aemond shrugged, “She’s pretty. Had a Strong bitch in Harrenhal, witchy sort, but couldn’t trust a wench that played with magicks.” He began to take off his loose blouse, exposing pale scarred skin, lean and toned. Daeron was stockier, like Aegon but if the eldest didn’t overindulge. The king was a juxtaposition of tight burns and soft overfed flesh. Never a warrior, Jace knew that much.

Jace watched in agony as the boys divested their clothing. He sister wept and shook on the mattress, begging Daeron now. The youngest looked guilty, mouthing, “I’m sorry.” Aegon smacked the Prince from behind the head and chided, “This is your whore for tonight. Quit being the pansy.”

Daeron grumbled back, staring with flushed cheeks. Aemond pulled her ass up roughly, spreading tanned thighs, shapely from dragon riding. Jacaerys howled, “You accursed demon!” The one-eye hummed, “I’ve heard worse, Strong. Enjoy the show.”

Aegon was at full mast, eagerly stroking his thick cock, “As the king I get to fuck those pretty lips,” he smirked, “Aemond you can get her cunt. Daeron it’s either her ass or wait your turn. Feel her up a little, I don’t know.” Daeron’s lilac eyes bounced around the scene, pupils blowing at her gorgeous body, full breasts hanging below, obscene lips covered in drool.

“Go on Daeron, she’s drier than the Boneway,” Aemond frowned. Jace could hand the bastard that, he couldn’t bear to watch her be torn to shreds. Daeron’s body came closer to hers, a calloused hand tentatively rubbing her soft skin, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. She relaxed a smidgeon, nervous eyes peeking around. The brunette had pretty lashes.

The daring himself murmured, “I shan’t treat you like this my lady, we’ll go back to Old Town. J-just feel me and the sensations. Please. Please.”

She whimpered quietly at Daeron engaged her in a gentle kiss, his hand finally coming to knead and tweak her pretty tits. “This isn’t amateur hour, back off, acting like Florian and Jonquil.” Aeg snatched her jaw and ordered, “Open, bastard whore.” She did so, shaking as Aegon dropped his spit into her mouth, easing his thick cockhead into the warm opening.

“That’s better, fuck,” Aegon moaned, eyes lolled. Aemond waited patiently, while he grinned at Jace. He mused, “So easy, so pliable. That’s why your mother liked it. Wanted to control everything, the bitch.” Jace gritted back, “Your mother was a stone cold bitch and we all knew it!”

The Velaryon fumed with anger, eyes flickering to where Aegon was moaning with delight, Daeron caressing and kissing on her smooth skin. His cheeks reddened at where his thoughts were going. Merely a Targaryen instinct— inclination for the blood.

Daeron’s insistent kissing and licking had the princess biting off whines around Aegon’s cock. The king laughed, “Ah, there she is, little slut loves it after all.” Aemond played with her other entrance, feeling wetness begin to gather and dribble delightfully. He backed up and motioned towards the youngest.

“Actually, I want her wetter. Use your tongue Daeron.” Aegon giggled with glee at the idea, Jace groaned, and Daeron swallowed heavily.

He shuffled to her slit, pale eyes boggled at her most private part. His thumb slid through the moistened entrance, cock jumping in surprise. Daeron held up his thumb and suckled the essence off, eyelashes fluttering as he moaned.

“She taste s-sweet, hm?,” Aegon panted. He wouldn’t last long. Never did by all rumors and accounts. The slick noises of her mouth and Aegon’s lurid chattering was making Daeron grow impossibly hot under his skin. He grabbed handfuls of her pert ass and licked at her pretty petals, grinding into the bed.

“Seven hells— the mouth on this one!,” he giggled, “Lick at that bud Daeron, raa-right at the top, make her squeal and slick up.” The youngest did so, suckling on the hooded bud above her opening, inhaling her perfect natural scent. She squirmed and shook, crying out around Aegon. Daeron didn’t stop, intoxicated by his beautiful niece’s noises. She arched her back helplessly, whining.

Aegon gasped and pulled at her thick brown locks, shoving his cock deep into her throat— met with no resistance. He threw his short curls back, belly bouncing, lips agape. The king cried out, “Fuuuuck yess!” Jace saw his uncle’s balls draw tight and he emptied down her once pristine throat. He closed his eyes and whimpered, willing away the indecent thoughts. He could hear her coughing in the background.

Aegon, fuck dumb and lazy, pillowed himself back. He halfassedly gestured for Aemond to have her mouth. The lean man smirked as having her from this angle meant he could torture Jacaerys more. Daeron was busy exploring her, sticking fingers in and lapping excitedly.

“Slow down, you’ll blow before you get your cock in her cunny,” Aegon snorted.

Aemond easily got access, the Princess obediently opening her mouth, eyes far away and hazy. Cum was still wetting her chin, mixed with drool. Aemond wiped it away with the nearest cloth, finding a distaste to be so close to Aegon’s glob of spend. He tilted her head up so the taller Targaryen could ease his long cock down her throat.

“Stick your dick in already, she’s wetter than the Greenblood,” Aegon snapped, greedily gulping wine. He shouted, “Isn’t this just wonderful Jace! Maybe we’ll cut your cock off and make you a handmaiden to this lovely girl.” Jace whimpered, utterly broken and confused. He was so hard it hurt, yet everything disgusted him.

Daeron held his cock, lilac eyes focused on her hole, dipping the tip in, before getting shoved further by one of her frantic hands. Aemond laughed, “Mm! She likes you. We’ll all have to take a test filling her cunt up. Make sure the seed takes.”

The youngest brother’s vision grew blurry as he registered the delicious feeling surrounding his cock. It was better than anything he had tried on himself. She was warm, tight, and pulsing around Daeron’s member. He gripped her hips and fucked wildly, groaning and panting her name.

“Should have taken his virgin ass to the brothels in Old Town when we visited.”

“All the more fun, two little virgins, isn’t that right Lord Strong?,” Aemond jabbed in glee. Jace let out an agonized moan, his balls aching and full. His sister’s gorgeous cries and debauched frame was making him feel insane. Aegon’s nonsensical laugh broke through the haze, making Jace more ashamed…more aroused.

Daeron panted and laid kisses up her back, breathlessly praising, “Oh you feel so good, tell me what to do, please?” Aemond, snapping his hips into the Velaryon’s mouth jeered, “Listen to what the wretch had to say, touch her button.”

Aegon slurred, already stroking his cock again, “When she comes, s’like heaven, milking ya’ cock.”

Daeron reached around to settle between them, circling around her swollen nub, feeling her cunt pulse and hearing excited keening. He pinched and pulled harder, the cries turning into little whimpers as she drew tighter and tighter around him. Daeron felt his eyes crossing at the pressure, fucking harder in a last effort.

Aemond pinched a bouncing teat of hers and ordered, “Come now, Strong slut. Serve your superiors.” He pulled out and watched the scene, on his haunches. The brunette was wailing and crying Daeron’s name. “Oh Gods please, don’t stop, f-fa-feels s’good! What’s- oh my- happening?”

Jace never wished he could be freed more than now, eyes glued to her twitching body, plump lips shining in the dull light. His cock was leaking profusely, needing an outlet for his swollen sac. Daeron gasped as she gushed all over his cock, sniveling and sucking in breath. Tears leaked down her gorgeous face.

The youngest Targaryen just sat in a daze, her throbbing pussy hitting him with wave of wave of ecstasy, his cock unloading all he could have carried into her womb. He selfishly hoped his seed would take, so that his wife’s child was truly his. He kissed and rubbed on her until Aegon cast him aside, laughing, “My turn, lover boy.”

Daeron’s eyes flickered to Jace, whining softly with a red face. His cock had soaked the front of his small clothes, huge member swollen and needy. Gods, the depravity. He absently wondered if the girl was supposed to be Jace’s if it weren’t for the twins.

Aegon was a lazy fuck, making the girl get on top of him and ride and ride until her shaky legs gave out. The king smacked her ass roughly, barking, “You can do better than that with all that dragon riding. Lazy whore.” She whimpered and bounced harder, squeezing Aegon’s soft midsection tight. He moaned, “Soooo much better. Good little bitch.”

He filled her up next with a sloppy finish, leaving some on her belly and legs, proposing, “Since Jace is so needy, we should make him clean her up.” Aemond seemed to love that idea, eagerly fucking her into the soft bed, her legs thrown high up his long body.

He bit and sucked a collar of markings around her neck, snarling, “You belong to us now, no black, no-ngh, fucking greens, just the Targaryens.” She whimpered, “Yes, yes, I belong to you, the rightful family.” Aemond smacked her around some more, around the ass and thighs. He pumped with long strokes, powerful and measured.

Daeron was taking notes. Because she was heaving and clawing his shoulders, mewling when he’d plunge into her ruined cunt. Blood had already dried on the bed. Aegon crawled over and pointed her wet eyes to Jace.

“You want brother dearest to clean you up after? Lick your sore cunny up, coddle you? Or Daeron?”

She scrunched her face up, obviously distressed. Jace whined pathetically, “Sister, sister please, let me, let me?” He was humping the air now, utterly broken and debauched. Aemond smacked her cheek none-to-hard and smarted, “Your king asked you a question!”

She wailed out, “Both! Need both! Gods please! Mmmm!” Aemond’s one eye rolled up at her releasing yet again. She still had some in her, coating his long cock with the gorgeous essence. The long haired prince pumped her for the final time full of his cum, slapping her ass another time for good measure. She shivered and cried, Daeron already to the rescue.

Who knew such a powerful fighter had such a weak heart. Aegon laid back like a cat who got the cream, watching Jacaerys sob and shiver. He’d cum. The evidence was sticky and soaking his small clothes. The princess took one look and begged, “C-can he join? Lick me up like you said my liege?”

Aegon shrugged, “Aemond and I will watch for safety. Can’t believe Lord Strong came in his small clothes watching his sister get fucked by the enemies. I thought we were fucked up.”

“Like you’ll do shite you oaf,” Aemond muttered as he slit the ropes binding Jace. The brunette stumbled to his sister, squatting between her soaked cunt. It was still a bit stretched, puffy and oozing copious amounts of ‘dragonseed’. He began to cry in shame as he cleaned her up.

Daeron softly murmured, “I’ll take good care of her, you’ve been good. So good.” Jace blushed and kept licking, eating up his sister’s sighs of pleasure, Daeron’s long fingers in his dark hair. What a fucking mess this was.

Aegon and Aemond merely laughed like devilish imps. Sadists. “Oh she’ll take the seed alright, she better or we do this again,” he tapped his chin, “We can’t taint her bastardized blood further, so just licking cunny for you dear nephew.”

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #READ TAGS PLS #velaryon reader #jacaerys x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #Daeron targaryen x reader

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mirrored-movements · 10 months

Text

There's a Problem

(Miguel O'hara x reader)

Synopsis: Miguel is turned into a cat by a villain, Peter and Jess need someone to watch him until they find out how to fix it- this is where you come in, however, they neglect to mention that Miguel is the cat you're now tasked with looking over.

Warnings: None, lack of romance tbh but still kinda cute

“What’s the problem? Where’s the emergency?” Arriving at HQ out of breath and half put together you leaned against the doorway to the meeting room, mask to your costume in hand as you felt there wasn’t enough time to put it on.

“(Y/N)! Thank god you’re here.” Peter’s robe-clad form right away came over to greet you, the man's arm moving behind your shoulder to bring you farther into the room. “We had er- a little problem.”

Raising a brow you side-eyed him, gaze briefly spotting Jess also occupying the room, the woman's arms folded as her head shook from side to side in some sort of impatiens.

“Problem? What do you mean by problem? I thought there was an emergency.”

“Well I mean it’s kind of an-” “We need you to look after something for a bit,” Cutting the man off Jess spoke, the woman's loud voice quickly cutting through the air as she’d rounded a table. “Think of it like a mission.”

“Alright,” Somewhat following along you watched the woman with a skeptical stare. “What do you need me to do?”

She seemed the finally pause, her form kneeling a bit in order to pull something out from underneath the table. “We need you to watch him for a bit.” Rising back up she seemed to hold out a cat?

The fluffy brown feline seemed more than displeased with being held, it’s equally as fluffy tail swishing back and forth angrily.

“A cat? You need me to watch a cat?” Knitting your brows together you watched the two respond with a nod, the animal being placed back onto the floor where it begrudgingly trotted over occupying the empty space in front of you.

“Yes well,” Peter paused upon feeling the intense stare Jess had given him, the man releasing a laugh. “Yeah, we need you to watch him, very important and whatnot.”

Blinking while trying to process what was being said you sucked in a breath letting out a sigh; kneeling down you held out a hand towards the cat trying to beckon it over. “Does it have a name?”

“Mig-” “His names Mog.” Cutting Peter off Jess nodded her head. “We’ll pick him up later, but until then we just need someone we trust to look after him.”

You thought it was strange how they both spoke about the feline and how they chose you out of everyone to watch said feline, seemed a bit fishy. “Couldn’t you have gotten one of the others to watch him?”

Peter’s hand came quickly to rest on your shoulder. “Miguel trusts you and therefore thats why we figured you’d be the best choice.” Turning his head a bit he added on quietly so that only you could hear. “And we all know how you li-”

“Ok ok, I’ll take care of the cat.” Shoving the brunette away you let out a huff. “Jeez can’t tell you people anything.”

“You’re a saint.”

Rolling your eyes you moved to pick up the cat, your hands coming to wrap around it despite how reluctant it seemed. “Yeah yeah whatever.” Shaking your head once more you turned to head out of the office, cat in hand as you muttered to yourself. “Basically blackmail.”

“They so owe me.”

Taking a moment to see that the cat had a mere daypass wrapped around it’s neck like a collar you made the decision to just bring it back to your apartment. The animal seeming less tense once you’d made it out of HQ however it still refused to leave the spot on your couch that you’d sat him on.

You’ve had cats a few times growing up, however, this one just felt different from any cat you’d met.

“You are- certainly something Mog.” Finding yourself kneeling before him to stare into his little face your eyes took in the strange colour of his eyes, the brown colour was mainly present however near the center it seemed to become a ruby hue.

Pointing a finger towards the cat you held it up to him, trying to see if he’d rub into it like any other cat- however, he just raised a paw to push your hand away, tail flicking back and forth.

After a few more failed attempts to coax the cat into doing cat like things, you’d inevitably given up. Hand raising to rub the bridge of your nose as you’d mindlessly flicked on the TV to some random channel.

It was beyond your comprehension as to why Jess and Peter had a cat in HQ appart from spider-cat, and to ask you to watch it nonetheless?

Wild.

Figuring you’d leave the cat to do his own thing you trailed into your room, falling face first onto the bed intent on the possability of taking a nap.

Remaining on the couch for a few minutes the felines gaze trailed around the room, little knick knacks and picture frames littered the small space, as did a random assortment of blankets. There was the smell of vanilla in the air, presumably from a wax warmer however he’d also noted how you carried that scent as well.

Hopping off the couch he crept towards the rest of the room, eyes taking in the rest of the apartment as well as the little things that seemed to make it unique. Stupid little stickers were stuck in random places and he could tell some of the posted noted stuck to the fridge were from the youth of the spider society.

You did like to take care of everyone.

Taking a moment to stare at each note he eventually trotted towards where he assumed your room was, the curtains had been closed leaving only a sliver of sunlight to shine in.

Finding that the room was just as decorated as the rest of the apartment he moved towards the desk, the newfound cat agility making it easier to hop onto the surface. Gaze right away moving towards a turned off laptop.

He shouldn’t.

But, he’s good at keeping secrets so…

With the tap of a paw on the trackpad the device lit up, no password seemed to inhibit anyone from accessing the device which was both a good thing and bad thing. Good in that he didn’t need a password but bad because anyone could access it and see the photos you’d used as your wallpaper- each having a different member of the spider society.

Somehow navigating the mouse he tapped a few things opening up one of the photos, the title of it being ‘the loml’.

What did loml mean?

Sitting there for a good few minutes he gave up, attention moving to some more photos you’d taken, each having similar labels.

A disgruntled growl left the feline, his paws nearing the edge of the desk where he’d leaped from landing on the bed with a silent thump. Each paw moved with careful precision as he neared where your face was, a series of meows with the intent to wake you up leaving him.

Cracking your eyes open at the sound you let out a low groan, “Didn’t like what was on TV?” sarcastically asking that Mog merely meowed once more, his little snout jutting afterwards towards where your computer was.

Squinting a little bit to note what he was trying to get at you glanced towards the cat once more- there was something certainly strange about this particular brown cat. Your spider senses have been off the hook since leaving HQ however you just figured this is why a normal person couldn’t just take him in.

Sitting up you rose up from the bed, hands pulling out the chair tucked beneath your desk all the while Mog trailed over as well, the feline popping up onto your thigh quickly to peer over the surface.

“Did you open some stuff?” Tiling your head down while asking that you shook the thought away, reminding yourself that a cat couldn’t talk.

Brown and red hues stared up at you almost innocently, a sort of expectation followed after as though he were asking you what was going on on the screen.

Shifting to sit more comfortably you raised a hand pointing towards the screen, “This one’s me,” You pointed towards the left side, “And this one is Miguel.” Your hand trailed to the right towards where the less than enthusiastic man stood. “He looks really crabby but he can be nice when he wants to.”

Glancing down you took note of how the cat’s whiskers twitched at your answer, dual-toned gaze returning towards the desk where he then hopped onto, head rubbing the corner of the screen where the title of the document rested.

“Sometimes I think he carries too much.” Mindlessly musing that out you let out an airy laugh, the cat's attention seemingly solely focused on you now, as if trying to get you to continue with that train of thought.

Which you did.

“I know he’s got it rough, but I mean- I just don’t think anyone should deal with that alone- right?” You stared at the brown animal almost expectantly, hand coming to brush through your hair quickly. “I guess they say animals are the best listeners.”

Taking in your words he let out a trilling noise, stepping towards the edge of the desk where he seemingly nodded his head up and down.

Reaching out a part of you felt happy when Mog had let you gently pet his head, fingers scratching the side of his face softly.

“You’re so cute.” Cooing softly you continued to pet the cat only pausing once you felt that it was enough, you couldn’t afford to get attached to the animal knowing that Jess or Peter would be dropping by later in the evening to pick him back up.

Perking up a little Mog turned his head towards something shiny off to the side, his tail swishing back and forth as he tried to figure out what exactly was wrapped around one of the many water bottles scattered around your room.

Noting where he was looking you let out a soft laugh, body rising from the chair in order to bring the bottle over taking off the item of interest.

It was a bracelet.

“Made this for someone but I don’t think he’d want it,” Taking the bracelet off the bottle you held it in your hand to show Mog, “He’d not really the accessory type.”

There was a sort of bitterness to your words; there were many occasions that you’d tried to get in the good graces of the leader of the Spider-society, and despite the insistence from Peter that you were liked- it didn’t quite feel that way.

“Whatever though, here let's hide that day pass for now.” Making sure that the bracelet wasn’t too small or too big you slid it over Mogs face happy that he seemed to let you, the item now sitting neatly around his neck. “So handsome.” Cooing once again a smile gradually broke out among your face.

Taking in your expression Mog let out a churr, the noise causing your smile to widen.

---

“-and then Hobi and I got stuck on the train, honestly have no clue what happened after that but the mission ended pretty quick. He’s not great with damage control though so we got an earful back at HQ.” Finishing your story absentmindedly you continued moving throughout the kitchen.

Yourself and Mog having migrated there after lingering in your room a while longer.

“Oh my god and Miguel- so we were both like absolutely coated in mud and whatnot and didn’t think about the mess it'd track in- so he absolutely reamed us out.” You laughed briefly at the memory lips curling up into a smile. “Although I do think Hobi got the brunt of the scolding.”

Taking a moment you thought back to that day, recalling how you’d been able to avoid most of the yelling and instead were told to just go and clean up.

Maybe Peter was right to some extent.

With a sigh you paused whatever you were doing, arms folding over one another as you leaned onto the counter that Mog sat on.

“You’re a good listener.” Turning your head to the feline you extended a hand finding that he allowed you to pet the back of his head once again.

Taking a moment you turned, both hands coming to squish Mogs little face pressing a quick peck to the top of his head. “If Jess and Peter weren’t coming to get you I’d a hundred percent just take you in.”

At the mention of leaving Mog let out a huff, his tail swishing back and forth as though he himself didn’t want to leave.

It was homey here, you were homey.

Deciding that you weren’t hungry anymore, you’d moved to scoop the cat off the counter, holding him within your arms much like how one would hold a baby.

“Let’s go watch some Netflix or something- they updated black mirror.”

—-

The quiet atmosphere of your apartment was interrupted briefly as an orange glowing portal illuminated the room, Peter’s form stepping out.

“(Y/N)? I’m here to pick up the cat.” Calling out into the apartment the man let out a sigh upon hearing no response, slipper-clad feet scuffling across the floor towards the open doorway at the end of the hall. “(Y/N)?”

Hesitantly peeking into the room the man let out a soft laugh, his eyes took in the way you and the cat sat.

Your laptop had been sat on the covers in front of you, all the while you laid on your side, one hand resting over the brown feline as he himself curled up comfortably.

“Knew it.” Holding himself back from fist pumping the air he trailed towards the two, hand reaching over you in order to poke the sleeping feline.

A low Murr left him before he rose his small head, eyes landing on Peter.

“Come on, we gotta go.”

Almost reluctantly slipping out from beneath your hand the cat gave a short stretch inevitably leaving with Peter.

It was a few hours later that you’d begun to stir, the feeling of something heavy sitting along the edge of the bed barely registering in your mind.

Rubbing your eyes with a yawn you’d sat up, joints cracking in response.

“Sleep well?”

Jumping at the voice your head snapped around, eyes landing on the corner of your bed where the form of Miguel surprisingly leaned on.

The head of his suit was deactivated leaving his face readable.

“Yeah yeah, it was good- er what are you doing here?” Having stood up from the bed trying to make yourself a little more presentable a sheepish smile crept across your face. Your eyes briefly flickered around the room in search of a certain feline.

“Just wanted to give my thanks.”

Blinking in response to what he was saying you opened your mouth to question the statement, pausing once he’d raised a hand to display his wrist.

A bracelet was wrapped around the blue and red suit, the bracelet you’d put on Mog.

Wait.

“Hold on- you,” Pointing a finger at the man you pieced your thoughts together; Jess and Peter keeping this hush-hush, you being tasked with pet sitting, the cat having the same striking pair of eyes that Miguel did-

You were so dumb.

“Let’s just keep that between the four of us,” Noting how you’d pieced things together he let out a hum, head shaking from side to side a little in a sort of amusement.

Running the palms of your hands down your face the tips of your ears burned, your form face plant back into the bed with a muffled groan.

Head popping up briefly to speak, “Can we also forget the last few hours? For humility’s sake?”

At the mention of that, the edges of his lips quirked up head tilting back to regard you with a teasing smile. “Why? Am I not handsome anymore?” He couldn’t help himself in commenting that, the man chuckling softly as more groans arose from you.

Deciding to continue on he leaned over a bit hovering above where your head was, “Not cute? No more praise for being a good listener?” At the sound of you muttering something incoherent he couldn’t help but grin, eyes taking in the way you hid yourself.

Moving so that he could kneel on the floor at the foot of your bed his hands reached out to press against the sides of your face pulling it out from within the covers, an obvious embarrassed look covered your face.

“Really though, you could say this was…eye opening.” Resting his chin onto the covers he stared into your eyes, a genuine look of gratitude crossing his features followed by a hum. “However I do disagree with being crabby- I like to think I'm more work-oriented,” Taking a moment to think he added on, thumbs both coming to brush against your cheeks. “But, maybe I do have too much on my plate.”

Giving your face a gentle squeeze he pulled back, hands moving to rest against his hips as a new question dawned on him.

“Now answer me this, what does loml mean and why did you label all our photos with that?”

-------

Anyways this idea was from one of my Instagram mutuals so if it's ass- blame them

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goodday-goodmorn · 5 months

Text

Back on this account: Prefacing this that this work was wrote in like a day and like most of my things- i was too lazy to edit lol. The concept form todays work was injected into my brain by good old @auspicioustidings, check em out- they got some cool concepts and fics. (Particularly Firewatch- chefs kiss to that series), lots of soft, dark, kidnap-y, COD content 👍

Without further ado i present my impulsive thoughts on a page:

——————

“Committed to the Bit.”

words: 4.7k

Summary: You’re at an utterly boring halloween party, about to leave when some scottish man dressed as a solider comes slinking into the bathroom and really goes ham with his whole ‘This place is dangerous, you aren’t supposed to be here- we gotta get you to safety’ act. Weird pick-up line approach but hey it fucking works. He’s just charming enough for you to play along with his bit. Because it is just a bit… right?

This party was kinda dull. Which really was a shame considering how high your expectations were. From what your friend said- it was supposed to be an immersive experience. The hosts were apparently old collage buddies with your friend who were halloween fanatics.

You friend has absolutely hyped them up, talking all about how when they threw parties they got into them and would always play up whatever dynamic they were going for with their costumes. Even to a level of mild public humiliation.

She once recounted the story of how one year, when dressed as a pair of vampires, they full on acted as though they were melting when someone brought a side of garlic breadsticks with the pizza. Fully committed to the bit it seems.

Because of the hosts being so dedicated to their act, of course it wasn’t uncommon for guests to act in a similar manner. Even those who didn’t have a running gag for the night were overall relaxed and had a good time being apart of the fun. It was a non-judgmental zone, filled with pretty decor and open people.

So of course, after hearing all about the welcoming and fucking amazing vibes of these parties- you had agreed to meet up with your friend at one.

Normally, you weren’t really one for parties, especially halloween ones because it was typically full of judgey, horny, strangers who would consider you weird- and you’d have to small talk and the songs almost always sucked because of course they couldn’t play actual halloween songs even if it killed them.

But after many reassurances from your friend, including videos and photos she had graciously provided you- you went to one.

To say you were disappointed was an understatement.

The costumes were amazing- high quality and expensive, hell the place was fucking stunning, all decked out in halloween gear and dark lighting. Even the building itself seemed perfect for this sort of thing- winding corridors, random locked rooms, ominous men in suits. Oh and don’t get you started on the snack table, shit was heavenly even if you were the only one touching it. The aesthetics of the party were great, But…

The vibes were way off. There was no rambunctious fun laughter and people grooving on the dance floor. Everyone seemed oddly reserved. Committed to their bits for sure, but well… there wasn’t much ah, variety to everyone’s act.

They all shared a similar vibe of like- domineering power. Which was definitely pretty fucking hot when it came to some people, (looking at you fancy vanpire lady), but it got boring after a while.

Safe to say your attempts at socializing were pretty shot. And what’s even worse, your friend? Yeah she didn’t even show up.

Tragic truly. You would call her to see if she made it here yet, but your phone was dead- and talking to any of the other party goers was a song and dance you didn’t wanna attempt again.

So here you are, in the bathroom, sitting by one of the sinks and charging your phone.

How lame.

You sigh, standing up to check yourself out in the mirror. At least your costume is fun, it’s a reference that only really you and you friend would get, but still, it made you happy to wear. It was a royal outfit, you looked like nobility, nice and fancy. Perhaps a barron, or maybe a princess, or a king- really it was up for anyone's interpretation. You fix up the head accessory, then fuss with your hair just to have something to do.

Maybe you should just leave, you were getting pretty bored of everything.

And it’s at that moment, as you’re sinking down to the bathroom floor to grab your charger that the most interesting thing of tonight bursts through the door.

You look at him, blinking once then twice. He does the same.

Eye candy.

That’s the first thought that comes to mind. Without an ounce of shame you let your eyes rack over his form, fitted in some sort of military outfit, tactical gear and even a prop gun. He makes it look damn good.

And then you stop admiring the hunk of prime meat in front of you because starring is rude. (Even if he is fucking amazingly charmingly rugged and god damn what you wouldn’t give to run your fingers through that mohawk of his and just tug-)

“That’s a good fucking costume.”

He pauses, looking at you with something confused and a bit bemused. And like an idiot you just can’t keep your mouth shut and blurt out more shit.

“Did ya have to bust through the door though? I mean like- don’t get me wrong it was cool as shit- really adds to the character here, big, hot, ah… military? guy.”

You wince, you’re making a fool of yourself. Luckily the man doesn't seem to mind.

(Johnny takes one look at you, your bag in a sink, your phone charging in the bathroom outlet, your clearly partly homemade costume that shows way more care than any of the other people in this joint and easily figures out-)

“L.T, Found a civvie.”

He mumbles into a- oh shit he’s got an earpiece and everything. Now that is cool. You tell him as such.

“Okay that is so fucking cool. Dude does that thing actually work? Man. How long did it even take for you to get this whole costume?”

He studies you with an odd look for a moment. You wonder if there’s actually anyone talking to him in that earpiece. Must be with the way he pauses. Slowly, he speaks; gentle.

“Not a costume lass. We ought to get you outta here, it's gonna be a shitshow soon.”

You blink. And then, you smile.

“Rightttt, not a costume. I getcha.”

“Not joking bonnie. This place is dangerous, filled with snakes. How did a wee thing like you even get in here?”

You smile, a bit pleased to banter with the first person who isn't doing the same old same old, ‘i know more than you, ooo im so big and powerful and scary’ act.

“Took a carriage ride and promised my roommate I'd be back by midnight.”

He eyes your royal esc outfit, not cinderella by any means but it still makes him smile slightly. (And boy if that isn't a sight, him looking you up and down and looking at you like that?)

“Cute. Then allow me to be yer escort princess.” He jerks his head in the direction of the bathroom door.

The statement is said with just enough sarcasm to make you bite down a grin. Hes very committed to this whole military operation act. And honestly? You were ready to leave anyway. Not to mention this guy was the only one who’d gotten your interest all night.

You grab your things and stuff them in your bag, slinging it over your shoulder tightly.

“Follow me, and ye gotta be quiet. Cant let anyone see us.”

You are more than willing to go along with his silly bit. And so you give him a clumsy salute, with a good natured smile.

“You got it captain.”

“Sergeant.”

He corrects you with an amused little puff of air. Clearly- hes just as pleased to have someone indulge him as you are to have someone interesting to talk to.

“You got it sergeant.” You repeat back with a graceful little half bow and amused smirk.

He turns back to the door, hands on his gun and before you go out you grab onto his arm.

“Wait!”

He turns to you with a raised eyebrow, eyes sharp, focused: wow hes a really good actor and hes got really pretty fucking eyes-

“Lassie?”

Oh yeah you can't get lost in his eyes just yet.

“Can I have a gun? For safety and all that- totally.”

“Hen… i don't think-”

“please sergeant? I promise I won't break it or anything! I just wanna get more into character ya know? pretty please Sir…?

…

(Johnny is not a good man. And fuck when he hears you call him by his rank, sir, asking so sweetly- your hands clasped in front of you- looking at him with a sheepish grin and pleading eyes. He wants to give you a damn bazooka if it means you keep talking sweet to him. Ghost is in his ear, telling him he better not bloody dare.)

(So of course…)

“You keep that safety on boonie. Hold it like this. If you gotta use it, don't be shooting or you’ll blow yer eye out. You toss the bloody thing in the direction of whatever it is you’re tryna hit- or you hand it to me. Is that clear?”

You nod vehemently, assuring him with little, yep’s and sure’s, and got it-’s. He raises a brow, mostly cause hes not sure if you’re actually taking this seriously. You take it for something else entirely though and then quickly say-

“Yes sir. Understood.”

(...Johnny is both damn disappointed hes on a mission, and greatful as fuck, because the only thing he wants to do is push you up against that wall, sneak his hands down your silly little costume and tease you until you’re a squirming mess. Asking you if you understand how hard hes gonna fuck you and hear your breath hitch as you answer back with a wanton “Yes sir”—)

“Sergeant…?”

You stare at the fellow and his intense gaze, wondering if you took it too far. Hes committed to his bit sure, but you didn't mean to overstep and make him feel like he had to give you a gun. Clearly they were expensive props, detailed and metallic and heavy.

Instead of speaking to you, he speaks to his earpiece, “just a precaution L.T, what if her majesty gets cornered? Little lass don't have a lick of combat training.”

You -far to ready to add to this stupid little bit- chime in,

“Yeah, they only teach you fencing and the waltz where i'm from.”

Johnny grins, “Com'on L.T”

(As much as Ghost hates to admit it- Johnny is right. And so be begrudgingly relents. It seems everyone is amused by how utterly oblivious you are because Gaz spares a laugh and a cheeky comment after Ghost's gruff voice.)

“Soooo… what's the verdict Sergeant? Did your uh… LT? That's lieutenant right-? Does he approve?”

In response, Soap carefully positions a gun in your hand, telling you with an edge to keep your fingers away from the trigger. (Safety is on of course, Johnnys not an idiot all the time.) You nod, holding onto the gun and feeling so cool.

Like that the two of you are off, sneaking around the winding corridors and hiding.

Honestly? This is the most fun you’ve had since you got here. Its all you can do to not bounce on your heels when you follow Soap around.

He's just so into this, that you can't help but be sucked in. Speaking in low tones to his ear peice, making sure you stick close, talking about positions and other military jargon that goes over your head. Oh and he does it all with this charming smile, like the situation is serious yes- but like he's still making sure you’re having fun. Trying to keep you comfortable. The energy is tense but in a good way. Electric even.

You find yourself holding your breath whenever you hide behind a corner, or when he tugs you to him and holds you still- god it's just so thrilling. Maybe because you’ve had a boring night, and cause he's charming and fun in all the right ways- but you’re having a blast.

Even when things seem to get even more tense.

You and Soap are currently nestled away in a little nook, a back corridor, a dead end. Soap curses, speaking into his earpiece. You can hear footsteps, someones coming. And if they see you and Soap- you'll surely be compromised.

(Which means your little game will likely come to an end. Most of the party people here are judgmental, ergo they probably won't appreciate your little roleplay. Its in this moment that you decide- fuck it, you dont want this to end.)

“Sergeant!” You whisper harshly, tugging off your fancy coat and draping it around him, “I’ve got a plan- trust me.”

He looks at you, mildly conflicted, he's about to say something but the footsteps are getting closer and you really need a cover story for why you’re lurking in a dark corner away from the party. You can only think of one reason two people would sneak away at a party.

Sue you for getting too into this silly game of pretend, but adrenaline spikes and next thing you know; you’re kissing him.

Rough and messy, needy. You let out your best wanton muffled moan. His eyes are wide, and for a moment you spiral, realizing what you’ve just done. Sure you were playing pretend and he was committed to the bit but you just kissed him for fucks sake- sexually harsssed him!

Oh god hes gonna hate you and you just ruined all that fun banter and any shot at ever speaking to the only decent person you’ve met all night—

He’s kissing back.

With sudden haste he pulls you close, kissing you back with a ferocity that short circuits your brain for a moment. His knee slots in between your legs, entangling you two, and then there's a soft thud as his back hits the wall.

Holy shit.

Your heart races, a slurry of adrenaline, of elation because he was playing along with your silly cover story, of something hot and molten because he was running his hands along your outfit desperately.

Amidst the heat of it all, the grinding of his knee between your legs- you don't even notice the fact that the footsteps stopped. Johnny does though. He breaks the kiss with a purposeful loud noise, when he sees your dazed and confused expression however- he quickly aims for your neck before you can say a word and accidently give away the clever cover story you thought of.

You gasp, the noise does wonders. He can hear whoevers about to round the corner shifting about, obviously realizing what's going on and debating if they should check to be sure or spare their eyes of the sight.

So of course, Johnny helps them decide by laying it on thick.

“Fuck atta girl hen, wanna hear you fall apart f’ me.”

He presses you against his knee, nibbling at your skin to make your breath stutter. Thankfully, you catch his words and seem to get at least to some level what he's doing.

So of course, because god damn it- you’re in the thick of this silly military operation act now- you’ve gotta commit. You moan out the worst thing you can think of to make someone go away. Which is of course—

“Daddy!”

(Johnny can hear Gaz fucking roaring with laughter over coms. It takes everything in himself not to laugh then and there. Luckily, having a pretty little thing pressed against his knee and trembling provides a good distraction. Still, he can't repress the grin.)

“Yeah? Need something kitten?” He captures your lips again, a quick kiss this time, just to leave you breathless for your next remark.

“Y-Your c-” Oh my fucking god you dont know if you’re struggling to speak because you’re trying your damndest not to laugh, or because you are painfully terribly aroused at due to his kisses and husky voice. Thank god he intervenes.

“Whats that kitty? Yer gonna have to speak up. Lemme hear that sweet voice of yours.”

He guides you across his knee, you tangle your hand in his hair, tugging that stupid mohawk close to kiss him again.

When you quickly pull away, you rush out the words, failing to hide the look of pure hysterical amusement on your face- luckily the rush of words is mistaken for neediness and not because you are seconds away from bursting into laughter.

“Your cock-”

He captured your laughter in another kiss, groaning to hide the sound of your stifled snickers.

Finally, after what seems like ages and yet too little time- he hears Ghost in his ear giving him the all clear. Not without clear amusement.

Johny backs off, panting heavily and listening. He hears nothing but empty air. Quietly he whispers,

“They’re gone.”

You pant as well, trying your best to keep your hysterical little giggles quiet. Johnny is right there with you, like fucking schoolgirls- the two of you giggle for a moment.

Ah but you should probably apologize.

“H-Hey im sorry by the way- for kissing you out of the blue like that, i didn't know if you’d be comfortable with it but uh- i kinda got invested in the whole-”

You wave a hand about as he backs off you, pulling his knee away from your heat between your legs.

“-‘Don't get caught’, thing. Sorry if i um- took it too far and make you uncomfortable…”

(Johnny looks down at you, pretty little oblivious thing, looking all sheepish and nervous as if there wasn’t the high potential you just saved both his and your asses with your quick thinking.)

“All good lassie. Good quick thinking.”

(As much as he’d love to tease you more about it- or even tell you just how much he enjoyed kissing you until you were breathless- he’s still on a mission, and you need to keep moving.)

(So for now, he settles for a hair ruffle and a wink. You smile all the same.)

The pair of you continue, and you are starting to wonder where you’re going. This ain’t the way you came in- though, you suppose coming in via the main entrance would defeat the point of the game. Which was of course: to sneak you out undetected. Walking through the hall of party-goers probably wouldn’t be the best call.

Still, it's odd when you find yourself stopping at a room. It appears to be locked, a passcode and everything. This doesn’t seem to be an issue though.

(“Intel says they left the hard drive here. Code is 269344041.” Johnny listens to Ghosts voice, inputting the code easily. He ignores the confused look you end him in favor of mumbling-)

“a’m in.”

You blink as he talks to his earpiece. Carefully and quietly as you enter the room, you ask,

“Um… sergeant? What are we doing in here?”

“Looking for a package hen.”

(“Should be in a small red box.” Ghost relays.)

“-Little red box. Help me look?”

You nod like the helpful little thing you are and begin to search the room. It’s a storage unit of sorts. Bunch of random shit, you even spot a cool ass box of skeleton bones. That you show to your newfound companion.

He grimaces and gently sets the box down away from your hands.

“Let’s not touch anything else alright lassie?”

It’s framed as a question but really it’s an order. You just shrug, and then remember your line was supposed to be, ‘yes sir.’

“Yes sir.”

The search doesn’t take long after that, a few minutes max before you spot a little red box high up on a shelf. All the things around it are collecting dust, but the dull red colored cardboard seems to be free of it. Placed there recently it seems.

Maybe this whole immersive thing was planned out, and maybe it was pure luck you got roped into it. Everything was awfully elaborate after all. With him knowing the code and stuff.

“Sergeant i think i found it.”

He’s on you in and instant,

“Where?”

You point up the shelf. “That it?”

He carefully grabs it, opens it up and shuts it before you can get a good look. Looked kinda like a flash drive? A flash drive inside a plastic baggie.

“That’s what we’re looking for alright. Good work lassie. Ye might as well be a recruit at this point.”

He’s joking it seems, so you smile back in turn.

“Lived a bit too cushiony of a life for military work i’m afraid.” You gesture once more to your royal outfit. “But i’ll consider the offer sergeant.”

He takes you by the arm, tucking the box into his vest and leading you to the door.

“Glad to hear it princess.”

After that, it’s more sneaking about, more little bits of banter whenever you can, and listening to him speak into his earpiece. It’s dreadfully fun, the most fun you’ve had all night and honestly? At any party ever.

Finally- Finally, you seem to make your goal as you feel open air on your skin. That took forever to get out, with how massive the place was, but by god it was fun sneaking around like a super spy with…

Oh. You come to the sudden realization that you don’t actually know his name. That and- you never gave him your name either.

Well, this is where you leave so…

“Hey i just realized i never got your name.”

He turns to you for a brief moment, his hands on your arm now, tugging you along away from the building so that the bouncers at the front won’t see you. The two of you stop a little ways away.

“Soap. Or Johnny if you’d prefer.”

He says it so simply, with such an easy smile.

“And you princess?”

You say your own back, and it sounds so nice on his tongue. So right.

“Um- if you wouldn’t mind-“ You’re fishing in your bag now for your barely charged phone, wanting to get his number because he seems like a stand up dude and-

Soap touches his earpiece, “Package and civilians secure L.T. Good to go.” He says it quiet enough you don’t hear it, too busy looking for your phone.

(“Roger. Gaz move in.”)

“-could i maybe get your number? After i find my phone, of course. it’s just uh, well i had a lot of fun. Truth be told the night was pretty shit before you found me so if it’s okay with y-“

Your eyes widen when you see behind Soap, several Military troops storming the place, all of them holding what look to be- very real guns.

“What the fu-?”

You start, dropping your phone in a shock and completely shattering the poor device against the pavement.

Johnny can’t seem to bite down his grin.

Slowly, and yet all too fast, everything clicks as soon as you hear gunshots.

At a snails pace your head turns towards Johnny. Soap. The sergeant. The real sergeant.

“I did tell ya it wasn’t a costume hen.”

You were such a fucking idiot.

——————

Awkwardly you sit in your chair, taken in for interrogation. Less that and more for protocol considering everyone agreed you didn’t know jack shit.

Apparently, you went to the wrong party and somehow ended up at a terrorist gathering, which would explain the weird vibes of all the guests. And the super big and confusing building. And the many locked doors. And the—

The more you thought about it, the more stupid you felt so at some point in the hours of being on this stupid military base, you stopped.

To your utter horror and humiliation: Soap was a real sergeant. On a real mission. And he gave you a real ass fucking gun. And you had kissed him and oh god he had his knee between your fucking legs- you called him daddy.

Physically unable to handle the shame and embarrassment, you make a noise similar to that of a dying cat and bury your face in your hands.

The person ‘interrogating’ you, (a nice man that everyone called Gaz), just laughed. At the very least your misery was amusing.

“I am- so, so so fucking sorry, oh my god i’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t worry about it love. It helped to keep you calm. Better than dealing with panicking eh?”

You nodded because he made sense. It didn’t mean you were happy about it- but it did make sense. Soap tried to tell you after all. Honestly it was probably for the best you thought it was all a joke. Who knows what you would have done if you knew it was for real, probably panicked and gotten both yourself and him killed.

Gaz pats your head, an amused but sympathetic smile on his face.

(God fucking damn it, were all sergeants just naturally this fucking charming??? …You don’t have a thing for military guys do you?)

When the captain of this whole thing walks in, John Price; with a smile like that of a damn koala bear and air of authority- you decide that, yeah. Maybe you do have a thing for military types.

Go figure.

“You're free to go love.”

You sigh with relief, mostly because you don’t physically think you can handle anymore embarrassment. Your face is starting to hurt from all the cringing you’ve been doing. How are you ever gonna live this down?

“Afraid your phones broken though. Do you know the way home?”

No. Obviously not. You were taken here via military truck with the other soldiers. Frankly you could be in a different country right now and you wouldn’t know because you passed out at some point from the sheer embarrassment of it all.

(Price of course, knows this. He just wants to see you squirm a little longer. Is it wrong? Yeah. But he’ll be damned if you aren’t the most fun thing to mess with.)

“Um no- sir.” You tack on the title quickly, unsure exactly what to call him.

“Alright. I’ll have one of my men escort you home.”

As long as it’s anyone but Johnny you should be able to survive a car ri-

“Soap.”

Fuck.

“Take my car and escort the little lady back home.”

…You just had to think it, didn't you?

(Price knows he’s cruel for messing with you. Mean and terrible really. But the face you make when he calls Soap into the room? Where you look like you go through every stage of grief before landing on depression in .5 seconds?)

(Priceless.)

——————

The car ride is just as excruciating as you thought it would be. Even worse- Soaps a good guy. Charming and fun, sweet even. He jokes and teases you but tries his damnest to make the car ride as comfortable as possible.

Hell he even offers to stop someplace and buy you something for the road. And offer you not let would refuse; but you were at the base for hours, and it’s like 2 AM and you are exhausted and hungry and embarrassed.

So the two of you get some takeout, and eat in Prices car. You would be worried about eating in the car, but Soap makes you comfortable, assuring you the captain would probably be more upset if he let you go home on an empty stomach.

The rest of the drive is cozy after that. He pulls laughter out of you, and embarrassed groans but it’s all in good fun.

By the time you get home, you’re most definitely a little unsteady on your feet just due to how tired you are. He helps you out of the car, and even walks you to your door.

Before he leaves, you awkwardly debate giving him your number. Just so you could buy him drinks or something later down the line to make up for your utter stupidity today- but then you remember your totaled phone.

Damn.

And then, a god seemingly hears your prays because he’s slipping you a sheet of paper.

Drowsily you blink down at it to find a king number string. A phone number.

When you snap your eyes back up to him, he’s grinning.

“You wanted it right lass? Give me a call sometime.”

And then, he’s winking and walking away. Just like that.

…huh. Maybe you should go to parties more often.

#john soap mactavish #soap x reader #cod fanfic #tf 141 x reader #(kinda?)#Kissing #fanfic #go look at auspicioustiddings they’re cool #Read Firewatch #I don’t normally write romance tbh #Those were definitely probably not prop bones #Also reader 100 percent shows up with baked goods down the line #Bro is never gonna live this down #I wouldn’t either #The embarrassment could kill a man.

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elsa-fogen · 1 month

Note

Oh, Husk and Alastor?

Their dynamic is also pretty interesting, they kinda feel like two people who everyone thinks gets along great and are the best of friends. While in reality their friendship is fueled but a fire born from their hatred. They just have many decent moments and have a easy time understanding each other, through they often use that information to serve a selfish endeavor.

Like Alastor would mess with Husk, tease him and Husk would tell Al to get his act together so that he(Husk) doesn't have to deal with some sort of fallout (ref. when Mimzy comes by)

In general, I feel like they do get along really well, but they are in no way friends. Kinda like how you can get along well with your boss, but wouldn't really consider them a friend. And you wouldn't really want them to involve themselves in your life, but that doesn't stop Alastor. (Social conversions? What's that)

This also makes me curious, wonder what kind of dynamic Husk has with Rosie, or rather, how do you think Rosie sees Husk? Just like a pet Alastor has? Or does she actually see the person that is there? (Leaning more towards her not really seeing Husk more than a errand boy or pet of Alastor)

Though it would be fun if the first time Husk meet Rosie he thought that she might actually be willing to help him because she gives of the energy of being a very kind person around people she cares about (aka Alastor). So he tries to talk to her without Alastor present and he finally understands how they get along so well, they are both the same kind of crazy ᵔᵜᵔ

So, um- what are your thoughts on the dynamic between Alastor and Husk?

HEEEHEHHE YOU GOT ME A REASON TO TALK ABOUT MY FRESH HEADCANON ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIPS

OKAY SO!!

I saw a theory that Husk had children when he was alive. Keep that in mind, it's a secret tool we wanna use later

So, little bit about Alastor. He is not the guy who owns many souls. In fact, he doesn't own any (well... i have some headcanons, but it's for another time). The only soul he has is Niffty, and she's... she's whole another level.

So one day Alastor get's Husk's soul in posession and he has no idea what to do with him. Their contract is basically "you'll have to do anything i order you" but it doesn't set any boundaries for Husk. So he can insult Alastor, argue with him and so on. The only thing he cant is to try to kill Alastor, but it's obvious.

So, Alastor's just... drags him around, and Husk has to just be there all the time, and watch Alastor do stupid shit without thinking, being manipulated by Mimzy into some shenanigans and so on, because he's too powerful, kinda don't afraid of anything and little bit unhinged. And Husk is trying to be that voice of sanity for Alastor (and maybe Niffty). Like in canon, he tries to warn Alastor about Mimzy nd at some point seems genuinely worried about him. Just a bit. And also, in that scene in final song, when Alastor appears again, Husk doesn't seem happy but still goes for group hug.

I think he sees Alastor as a child he has to babysit, but the child is so spoiled, that he doesn't give a shit about his warnings. Maybe Al reminds him of his own children at some degree. And so Husk is attached to Alastor in some weird unhealthy way, he cares about him and tries to protect, even if it pointless.

The worst part of it is that Alastor doesn't see him more than funny fluffy cat-guy-pet. He almost never takes him seriously and doesn't listen to what he says. So Husk may try to reach out to Rosie, to make her to reason with Alastor. But she's basiclly "i could fix him, but whatever is wrong with him is way funnier". I think she listens to Husk's worries about another Alastor's scheme, but she also trusts Alastor? I mean, she belives that he'll be fine. But if something seems to dangerous, she can agree and talk to Alastor.

After all, Husk was an overlord, and i think Rosie could know him before he made a deal with Alastor. So, i think she doesn't think of Husk as just Al's pet, she knows who he is. After all, not every sinner can become an overlord. But still,

So, last thing. I saw that one comic where after episode 5 Alastor admits that Husk was right about Mimzy and i really love this thought. I think Alastor also likes Husk's presence at some degree. Maybe they could build something healtier, maybe Alastor, after losing part of his powers, would listen to Husk more. But still it's all fucked up while Alastor owns his soul.

And also, i'd really love to see something of just Alastor, Husk and Niffty getting into some shenanigans together, this would be so much fun. Al and Niff who are just 2 unhinged gremlins and Husk who's done with their shit, but still cares about them and can't just leave, and it's not because of the deal. Like i imagine when husk is trying to reason with Alastor that he's about do something stupid and dangerous and Alastor's like well i don't force you to follow us this time, but Husk still goes with them because who else would watch after these two idiots?

So i think, i get your point about them!

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hocuspocusbabyy · 25 days

Text

A little Ficlet from my archive of wlw… first time posting my Melissa content!

A breath of fresh air:

“You’re Jacobs aunt and the new French teacher at Abbott Elementary, Melissa and you bond over shared cigarettes and vices.”

Melissa stood next to her car facing the fence, away from Ava who was contently giggling at whatever stupid video she and Jacob were watching. She didn't see why Barbra had to banished her to the far side of the school for wanting one bloody cigarette.

Mel huffed trying to get her lighter to work from her spot behind the shed as she looked around, the empty streets dimly lit by the lamp lights bounding off the metal fence. It dawned on her that she was alone out in the Abbott Parking lot. Everyone else having escaped inside from the cold.

'What you doing over here all by yourself?' A familiar voice called, startlingly elegant the remittance of France still present within the dentals of her accent.

Melissa felt all the hairs stand on the back of her neck. The teacher whirled around to face them, the woman that had been giving her heart palpitations and a mega lady boner since the moment she’d arrived at Abbott four months ago.

Jacob’s Aunt, Jacob’s young, very attractive aunt - who was nearly fifteen years younger than her.

'Needed one,' Mel smirked awkwardly, holding up her unlit cigarette. 'Just can't seem to...' she gave her lighter a few flicks for effect, but it was futile.

'Here." Y/N produced a lighter and lit the flame, as Mel gratefully leaned forward and sucked on her cigarette until it caught.

'Thanks,' the redhead replied, finally feeling the blessed burn as the smoke hit her throat.

'So,' Y/n remarked, ashing her own cigarette, 'Jacob tells me you're a real Lotario.'

Mel looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. 'Who’s that?'

Y/n smirked. 'A slut, basically.'

The redhead grinned at Y/n 'Damn, you've just going call me out like that Hill?"

Y/N took another drag and smirked. 'So it's true then? You just go with a lot of men?'

'Go? As in a date? Nah, It's like, I've don’t take anyone out to the movies or shit like that, none since I was married… even when I was married.’ She shrugs inhaling again, ‘just kinda go with the flow,’ There’s an emphasis on that last part.

‘Everyone got a vice.' Y/n concurs. 'I for one have always enjoyed the pleasures of my fellow feminine species.” - how very French Melissa thought.

Y/n leaned against the wall alongside the teacher. 'I don't mind the company of women either. Never have.'

Y/n raised an eyebrow. 'Really?'

'Is that so surprising? An old gal like me chasing skirt?”

Y/n laughed aloud taking another drag of their cigarette, smiling appreciatively. 'So crude Schemmenti.”

Melissa made an acknowledging sound stubbing out her cigarette as you continued, ‘so what is your vice then?" Y/n asked, watching the Italian woman with interest.

"Work." Mel deadpanned.

"There are worse things to be addicted to I suppose" Y/n shrugged throwing down her cigarette and stepping it out.

"Yeah, but being addicted to sex sounds much more fun" Mel commented, smirking as she swore the woman beside her blushed.

"You know Janine and Gregory are definitely going to hook up”

Mel gave a disbelieving tisk, not wanting to give away her friend and colleagues years in the making relationship. "What makes you think that Frenchie?”

'Come on,' Y/n replied, placing a hand on her hip, 'Have you looked at them? It's bound to happen. I can't quite put my finger on it but I know there's something there.' Y/n continued, her eyes narrowing. 'There was this sort of connection between them the moment they laid eyes on one another. It's been a tumultuous back and forth ever since, someone you can’t falsify.’ Her gaze lingered upon the Italian, the soft curve of her hips as the lay push against the brick. Full and decadent. An essence to their words that did not reflect or belong to Gregory and Janine at all.

'I suppose you may have a point.'

'If they're not shagging now then they will be, I just know it.’

“Not who’s crude.” Mel joked, a dazing full smile lay upon her features.

Y/n simply shrugged. 'I only hope Jacob catches on and finds someone too, at least so he won't turn out a spinster like her aunt.'

‘Oh come on’ the redhead sniggered, ‘you a spinster? How ridiculous. You’re far too young and gorgeous to be referred to in such a way.’

‘You don't believe me? all my relationships have ended in utter failure because I am reserved to becoming an old spinster,' Y/n sighed dejectedly, dramatically. 'Perhaps I should just accept my fate and adopt a bunch of cats.'

Mel smirked, a little laugh escaping her lips as he turned to Y/n if you wanted to play coy, she’d take the bait. ‘Look I don't know much but I do know, no matter when or how it happens, you just gotta be open to it,' she whispered, ‘and when you've done that, well maybe then you can get some cats.’

Y/n looked at Melissa for a good long moment, letting what she had just said sink in. After a bit, she nodded in agreement before revealing a sly look.

‘You think I’m gorgeous?’

‘Caught that did you?’ Melissa shook her head, flashed a charming grin, ‘besides I'm sure even old spinsters get a good fuckin' every once in a while."

‘Oh sure. I'm sure I'll be able to fit in a good rendezvous or two between all the cat feedings.’ Y/n delighted, their bottom lip curling upon their teeth.

‘Yeah, see, there you go,’ Mel laughed. ‘I'd definitely wanna show a fine cat lady like you a good time.’

Y/n found herself grinning, and looked down shyly. Maybe she was lying a little, plenty of people flirted with her, but never any as spectacular as this particularly teacher. What was a white lie in favour of a future?

Y/n turned towards Mel reaching out and grasping her wrist, taking her other hand and idly drawing circles in the Italian’s palm. 'Is that an offer?'

Melissa gave another, surprisingly nervous laugh, smile brilliant and charming. 'Well that depends on your answer Frenchie.’

Y/n hummed as if she were contemplating what they were going to do. When really she was just trying to contain her excitement because holy shit Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti was going to kiss her.

No time for nerves Hill.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as the redhead stepped in front of her, moving in close. Y/n bit her lip, holding in a gasp as she felt tender fingertips and a set of perfectly manicured nails just barely graze the soft and sensitive skin beneath her left eye. A hot palm pushing against her skin, brushing away her hair and pulling in. Y/n needed bit down harder to prevent a gleeful shout from escaping as strong hands grasped into her hair.

There was a moment, a bare seconds, void of anything other than the woman before her. Vision becoming little but hues of red remittent of Italian soils that Y/n would gladly be lay to rest in. The soft apex of the teachers lips falling down upon her own, moving in a perfectly smooth motion.

Melissa Schemmenti’s lips could only be found among worldly things, the simplest of pleasures. Between old library pages, morning rain and bath water as it fizzled down a drain. A kiss worthy of its benefactor, a kiss she couldn’t help but reach up and steal again. A rememberable of smoke thick upon their teeth, as they devoured one another.

#fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fluff #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #abbott elementary #wlw

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 2 months

Note

what are your thoughts on the ministrife situation? imo literally the worst fate for eridan to be damned to tbh

i think he will eventually (after <5 minutes) just shoot cronus and leave. (CW for mentions of abuse and cronus's romantic grossness and stuff under the cut).

Ignoring the extremely creepy and gross fact that Hussie doesn't seem to have a problem with the age gap (it's There, we've acknowledged that it's creepy and weird, i personally think it highlights how immature the dancestors are despite their physical age, and it actually serves to hint at how trash they are, but it's still really uncomfortable in the moment and never gets properly called out. In any case we've talked about it critically, we can move on and talk about characterization now), he and cronus are actually kind of polar opposites. Given that Cronus, along with many of the dancestors, are riffing on what the fandom interpretation of their Alternian counterparts are, it's kind of a fascinating look at all the things Eridan ISN'T.

The fandom (especially at the time) had flattened Eridan down to "overdramatic Nice Guy hipster who won't stop hitting on people," with varying degrees of sympathy. In other words, they took all of Eridan's outward presentation - the narration calling his genuine anxiety and distress "overblown emotional theatrics," the fact that his being rejected was a running gag - entirely at face value, while also missing what sort of archetype he was actually supposed to represent.

At no point does Eridan ever actually mention a hipster interest, like vintage clothes or indie media. It's all entirely in his design and Karkat calling him a hipster (it's not even in his character introduction), so presumably, it IS a part of his character (Karkat knows him really well), but it's probably a part he keeps to himself, like his love of wizards.

Moreover, he isn't really a Nice Guy. The closest he gets is thinking Nepeta owes him a chance for saving her life, but as far as we can tell, he only ever asked her once, got rejected, accepted that rejection, and has never taken out that rejection on her. When he complains about it, he frames it as a bitter "I guess what I did wasn't enough," not "she's an unreasonable witch withholding romance from me even though I'm so nice to her." All other romance attempts are crimes of... just being way too forward.

He bursts into Kanaya's DMs demanding she auspicetisize with Vriska because... that's what she likes to do, right? The same happens to Terezi in [S] Karkat: Wake Up. He comes on strong in Rose's DMs and after getting a little annoyance back, goes "wow, we kinda have something," and does not realize her blowing up his computer is a rejection because she didn't explicitly tell him no and he's a dumbass. And even though he's nasty at Sollux because emotionally, he's still bitter about Sollux "stealing" Feferi from him, at least CONSCIOUSLY he's recognized the rejection on both fronts and has repeatedly told Feferi that he has no more interest in getting back together with her, in spite of her recognizing that he's emotionally not over her. And speaking of Feferi, his confession to her is entirely genuine and respectful toward her feelings. At no point does he indicate that he feels like she owes him a date.

These aren't Nice Guy actions, they're "I have 0 social skills or self-awareness" actions. And also a little bit "due to my trauma and anxiety and desensitization to murder, I struggle to care about other people" actions. He's not even actually casteist or genocidal - I spent an entire essay arguing that.

But regardless, that's what the fandom ran with, in large part because they didn't bother reading between the lines. Ironically, like Eridan, they just believed what he told them. I don't even necessarily blame the fandom - at least part of this obfuscation was intentional, and a clever trick on the part of the writing. By highlighting Eridan at his worst, and having the narration be complicit in his self-delusion and mockery, the story is able to put the audience in the same mindset as his in-universe bullies - Eridan is dumb weirdo whose emotional problems are worthy of ridicule, not sympathy. Let's all point and laugh!

This sets up his meltdown to be more of a twist - even though his literal introduction is him killing something and talking about genocide, the very real danger he poses is forgotten both by the audience and the other characters because they've gotten so used to dismissing his feelings that they ignore his cries for help and the warning signals he gives off. And it makes his character more relevant and meaningful, because this happens in real life all the time - I'm sure we either all either knew, or were, the friendless weirdo at school who, upon reflection, definitely had either some bad shit going on at home or severe and untreated mental illness (or both).

The reason I'm bringing up this fandom misinterpretation is because, like a couple other dancestors, Cronus is very much a riff on the fanon version of his Alternian counterpart. Unlike Eridan, who's not actually casteist, but desperately trying to act the part, Cronus IS a casteist sea dweller who thinks he's better than lowbloods and land dwellers. Unlike Eridan, who seeks emotional connections with others, and accepts rejections, Cronus is only looking for some action, and keeps trying even well after he knows he's been rejected. Unlike Eridan, who's so consumed by anxiety and trauma that he's pretty much unable to function properly, Cronus DOES exaggerate his problems and explicitly leverage them for attention and sympathy. And unlike Eridan, who feels crushed under the weight of duty and responsibility, and tends to blame himself when things go wrong, Cronus refuses to take responsibility for anything, immediately blaming anybody BUT himself.

They're practically exact opposites, and this is, again, a clever trick on the part of the writing. It's an excellent usage of a foil: though superficially similar, the differences between these two really serves to highlight just how much Eridan is NOT the things that Cronus IS.

And it's especially interesting given that Eridan spent his entire life trying to emulate Dualscar, to the point of modeling his outfit after the guy. To him, it was not only his duty, but his inevitable fate, to wind up as Dualscar's successor. And when he finally meets the guy in person, his opinion is "even I think you're trash."

If that isn't a form of rejecting the values his society has told him repeatedly that he has to uphold, maybe in the service of perhaps setting up some sort of redemption arc or something, I don't know what is.

I've seen people point to this moment as kind of a hee haw funny one-off joke, look at how little Hussie cares about Eridan, but that's not what it is to me. You don't really need to say anything more about their relationship to each other. Eridan thinks Cronus (and by extension, everything Cronus stands for - and everything Eridan has tried to be) is garbage, but is lonely and friendless and desperate enough that he feels pushed into accepting it anyway. It's extremely consistent with his characterization and character arc.

So uh, yeah. Join me next time for more deep dives on how this funny innocuous thing in Homestuck actually Means Something.

#homestuck #eridan ampora

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