#robbie was on fire that night!

[akuma-tenshi]

i can't believe i actually forgot to post these

[super-oddity]

do you remember?

[outstanding-quotes]

When you’re in the midst of creating something, you hope people will like it, but you have no idea what it will turn into.

Robby Krieger, Set The Night on Fire

[spaghetticat3899]

Work doodles

I have a notepad I bring to work and doodle in whenever I run out of stuff to do. I’ve been on a dragon kick lately I don’t know why

Sparrow is a little edgy character I made when I was younger. Maybe if I get bored enough I’ll make an old WOF character post (thought of doing that this morning but didn’t have time). The rest of the dragons are unnamed. Pinewings are also an old childhood dragon tribe I’d made up, they’ve just been given a bit of a makeover.

[clonecaptains]

Does He Know?

a jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader fic

warnings: giving this one an M rating for a very brief mention of masturbation; and some thematic elements like cheating (not jake or reader), some swearing, alcohol mentions; she/her pronouns used; no use of y/n

word count: 3.6k

summary: jake has been in love with you forever, but you belong to someone else. someone who doesn't treat you right. it all comes to a head when secrets are revealed at your friend's wedding.

a/n: this is a little different - it's from jake's pov! also credit goes to my bff @cowboytylerowens for naming reader's boyfriend!

--------------------------------------------

This isn’t easy for him. Not when you look the way you do. A flattering cocktail dress hugs your figure, it’s your favorite color. He knows it’s your favorite color, it’s the color you wear the most. The color you feel most confident in. He’s dying to tell you how beautiful you look because right now your body language reads that you are a little shy about the bold dress choice.

He could tell you, but it’s not the same. Not the same if you were his girl. And you’re not.

You’re not his girl.

There’s a party at the Hard Deck tonight. Bob is getting married, the rehearsal dinner finished an hour ago. The pilots are throwing him an additional party because he was apprehensive about a crazy bachelor party. The atmosphere here is loud, but it’s not anymore than normal. Maybe a little extra excitement and happiness for their friend.

You’re here because you work at the Hard Deck. Penny took you in several months back when you needed a fresh start. And after some time, you became friends with the pilots who frequent the place. Jake’s had a crush on you from the moment you walked in. He’ll never forget that moment, he felt like he’d been struck by lightning. He feels a similar feeling in his gut when he saw you in your dress tonight.

It kills him that you’re not his.

It’s worse because missed his chance.

You’re dating another pilot who got to you first. His name is Robbie, callsign Scythe. He’s been a rival of Jake’s since he got here, and taking you is another thing added to the list.

 Scythe doesn’t know how Jake feels about you, but he has noticed he’s gotten in Jake’s head. During flight training and regular work things Jake has excelled at – Scythe is just that much better. And he makes sure to let Jake know he’s noticed.

Jake used to be this way, getting in the other pilots heads. He still does but only in fun and to get his fellow pilots to do better. It eats at him a little seeing Scythe act the way he does. Just knowing he’s one step ahead – in everything.

Jake beats himself up about it, about you. He had plenty of chances to ask you out. To make his move. He knows fire when he sees it, and he really thought he felt it with you. But when Scythe swooped in as usual, Jake’s chance was gone.

So, there you are, looking like something out of a dream. And he can’t do a thing about it. That’s why he’s sitting at the bar with his back to you. Scythe has his arms around you “teaching” you how to play pool. He can hear your giggle, and it stings. He has no right to feel this way he thinks. He has no ‘claim’ over you – but he doesn’t know how to just turn off how he feels. How the sound of your laugh is downright musical to him. How your eyes and your smile have his heart squeezing in his chest.

This beer can’t nurse his wounds fast enough.

“Oh, I love this song!” Jake hears your voice perk up when a song starts playing overhead. When he tunes in, he hears that it’s “Jessie’s Girl” by Rick Springfield. A little on the nose. Too on the nose. He looks over to the jukebox to see Coyote with a smirk and a shrug. Jake huffs out his nose, rolls his eyes, and takes a long drink of his beer.

Coyote’s the only one who knows. And while he played that song in simple jest, he does feel for his friend. He’s seen the shift in Jake since you came along.

The night goes on and Jake has done what he could do to avoid seeing you. He spent most of it at the bar, but then he remembered why he was here. This isn’t about his love life.

He cracks a few jokes with Bob. He finds he enjoys this company of people, and he almost forgets he was feeling sour. Then he hears your voice over the music and the crowd. It’s hard not to zero in when he hears you.

“Robbie! Stop it.” He sees Robbie get a little handsy with you against the pool table. He’s clearly drunk now and you aren’t enjoying it.

“It’s Scythe,” he tells you, and Jake watches you frown.

“Hey!” Jake speaks up, he doesn’t want to see you upset. He knows you could do better than Scythe. Jake doesn’t know if he is the best for you but if given the chance, he’d do his best to try. “She said stop.”

You look embarrassed, and Scythe grumbles out something about not needing to be told. He looks like he’s going to be sick, and he runs off towards the bathroom, leaving you and Jake alone by the pool table.

“He’s such a dick,” Jake huffs out, he’s not trying to bash your boyfriend necessarily, but he aches for you and it’s coming out in ways he’s struggling to control. When he gets near you, he forgets how to speak, and almost always puts his foot in his mouth. “He’s not good for you.”

“And you know what’s good for me? I thought you only cared about yourself,” you reply, embarrassment taking over and Jake can tell he’s upset you, so he starts to back off. But not before he hears the telltale bell ring up at the bar. He doesn’t even have to look to know if it’s for him. He can only imagine how it looked from the bar having a heated discussion.

‘Don’t disrespect a lady.’ He knows the rules. He doesn’t feel like arguing.

The back of his neck feels hot walking towards the bar to pay for drinks. He knows everyone’s eyes are on him, and normally he’d like attention – but not this kind. He’s quick to make his exit after paying.

He barely remembers his drive home. All he can think about is you and how he didn’t mean to embarrass you. He needs to get over you, but he doesn’t want anyone else.

There’s about a million things swirling around in his head. He feels a headache coming on. A hot shower and bed are his plans for the rest of the night. And trying not to think about you.

But damn it if he can’t stop thinking about you in that dress. And how you’ll be in another one tomorrow. Fuck.

He doesn’t feel good about it, but he lets his mind wander. Thinking about your smile. Your eyes. The way the dress hugged your body. Your laugh. The soft swell of your boobs, the curve of your butt.

Fuck. He lets himself get caught up in the moment. He wishes he could take you home. Peel that dress off you and make you see stars. To make you laugh, to take care of you.

Still in the shower, he comes hard in his hand. He doesn’t feel good about it.

And once he’s gotten in bed, it takes him forever to get to sleep. He wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat thinking about you. He knows he’s in love with you. You haven’t left his head since you first walked in the Hard Deck.

Flying was just about the only thing that could distract him enough from you. Until recently.

He has to get over you. He debates telling you how he feels, but he’s sure he’d make a fool of himself. And he’s done that enough.

Jake wakes up and decides to focus on the wedding. That’s the goal for the day. He’s in it, and he has places to be. He can’t let the thought of you being there distract him.

 He won’t lie that he is a little excited to see you even though nothing will happen.

He just doesn’t want to see you hurt when it all comes down to it. He doesn’t want you to break up because of him – he wants you to be happy. And if Scythe makes you happy? Then so be it.

But that’s easier said than done.

He wants to be the one to make you happy. To get you to smile. That cute shy one.

His mind is wandering again. And he needs to get ready for this wedding.

He loves getting the chance to wear his dress uniform. It’s crisp and clean when he pulls it out of the closet.

Like most things in his life, there’s order and neatness. Except how he feels about you. Maybe that’s why you’re under his skin. You’re the one thing he doesn’t know what to do with.

Flying is easy. Keeping a routine is easy. But you? You’re in his head and he doesn’t know which way is up.

Maybe having fun at this wedding will keep him busy. He knows he looks good in this uniform, maybe he can flirt a little bit, get his mind off you.

He hasn’t been to a wedding in a while, and he’s happy to be there with his friends. He’s in a good mood. He tells himself he’s fine, that he doesn’t care that he hasn’t seen you yet.

Until he does. It’s not until the ceremony has begun. He’s standing up in the line of groomsmen, and he sees you out in the audience. You look absolutely beautiful, and it’s a punch to his gut.

It’s hard not to watch your face during the ceremony. He wishes he could kiss you. The soft romantic look on your face while you watch two people pledge their love for each other. Scythe is barely paying attention to you. And Jake can’t decide if he really is just an asshole who doesn’t know what he has, or if he’s just so intensely jealous of him. Jake knows if it were him, he’d have kissed your cheek at the very least to make you smile and remind you of the love you have.

After the ceremony is over, and things get started at the reception following – Jake is glad for the break. He needs some air, so he heads for the bathroom to splash water on his face before mingling.

He shoves the bathroom door open with one hand and heads right for the sink. Grabbing a few paper towels, he wets them – then rubs his face and the back of his neck. He’s managed to calm down for a moment when he hears a couple giggling in one of the stalls. He smirks at first, someone’s getting lucky.

Then the couple comes out of the stall. Jake’s anger boils up in him again when he sees it’s Scythe and another woman.

“Bagman!” Scythe seems almost happy to see him.

“Scythe,” Jake replies, his head feels like it’s going to explode. “So did y’all break up then?” Jake asks, he mentions your name. There is no way he’s going to let this one go, not when he knows it’ll hurt you.

“No,” he scoffs. The damp paper towels in Jake’s hand are getting squished in his fist.

“You mean, she’s out there in that dress looking like that and you’re in here?” he motions to the woman he’s with.

“She wouldn’t put out. But this one here,” he lewdly kisses her, “will. Several times. And she’s not going to find out about this.”

Jake is fuming. Things like this always happen at weddings, he knows that. But he can’t bear the thought of you being hurt. He knows this will break your heart.

“Wait, are you sweet on my girl?”

Jake’s nostrils flare, his anger giving him away.

“You’re sweet on my girl,” Scythe continues, talking of course about you. Jake doesn’t like how he sounds with your name on his mouth.

“She’s hardly yours if you’re treating her like this,” Jake says and yanks the bathroom door open to get out.

Now he’s seeing red. His job is high intensity but it’s easy for him to shut off his emotions up in the air when it’s all business. He has to go out here now and eat a meal with his friends and pretend like you aren’t about to get your heart absolutely shattered.

He can barely stomach the food. From his table, he can see you and Scythe at yours among some other friends. You have no idea what’s just happened, and Jake can’t take it. Scythe makes eye contact with him and raises his glass in a mock cheer at Jake.

“What’s going on with you?” Coyote leans over to Jake, he can tell something is wrong. “You look pissed as hell. We’re at a wedding!”

Jake leans in to his best friend, “I caught Scythe and someone else in the bathroom.”

“Shit.”

Coyote knows as well as Jake. You need to know, you need to be told. But it’s going to hurt, and Jake doesn’t want to be the one to bring you that bad news. The rest of the meal he sits on it.

It’s when the bride and groom are doing things like cutting the cake, that Jake decides to go talk to you. He has no clue what he’s going to say. He goes up to the bar to get a drink to calm him down, when he sees you nearby.

“Hangman!” you call him, and his heart jumps in his chest. Excited to hear your voice, but guilt at knowing what he knows. It’s such a mixed bag of emotions he feels dizzy with it. Or maybe it’s just how beautiful you look. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night.”

“What are you sorry for?” he asks you, he’s been through so much in the last 24 hours he couldn’t pretend to know.

“For accidentally getting you in trouble and buying all those drinks. Let me get you one?”

“It’s an open bar,” he teases. He’s finding his rhythm.

“Still,” you reply with a laugh. There’s your smile he loves. He tells you his drink order, humoring you.

“Having a nice night?”

“Yeah!” You tell him sipping on your own drink while you wait for his. “I want to dance but I have no clue where Robbie, I mean Scythe is.”

“Want to dance with me in the meantime?” Jake offers you, his hand. He’s not sure if you’ll take it, but when you do, he gives you a big grin. He couldn’t hide it if he tried.

He leads you towards the dance floor, and you join other couples in a slow dance.

He finally has you in his arms and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Your hand on his chest is burning through his uniform.

“I really am sorry about last night,” you say again. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

“Well, I probably deserved it, I am cocky.”

You share a laugh, then there’s a few moments of quiet. Just enjoying the dance and the music and good company. But his brain won’t leave him alone. He won’t ruin this nice moment, but you need to know at some point.

“Does he really make you call him Scythe?”

“Well, he-“ you pause. “He likes it.”

“You’re too nice to him. And everyone. Except me apparently,” he teases.

“Well, you said it yourself- that you’re cocky-“ You don’t get to finish your sentence because there’s a commotion happening nearby.

A couple stumbles out of a photobooth, and Jake sees it’s Scythe and that same woman from before. Jake calls your name, he doesn’t want you to see it but it’s too late.

“Robbie???” You leave Jake’s arms and head towards your boyfriend. He tries to give you the ‘it’s not what it looks like’ excuse but you don’t buy it for a second. Jake watches your heart break before his eyes, and he feels a little pride when you grab someone’s drink to splash it in Scythe’s face.

You take off, Jake can tell you’re crying. Everything in him tells him not to follow, to give you some space. But he doesn’t want you to be alone.

He follows you, he doesn’t see exactly where you went, but he hears a door close. You’ve stepped into a closet, and he can hear your sobs through the door.

His heart hurts, it’s killing him. You’re in so much pain – he can hear it in your cries. He waits for a moment, to let you cry – even though he wants to hold you now. He wants to give you a moment.

But when he hears you breathing heavier, he raps on the door with one knuckle. He gently calls your name and waits for you to answer.

“Hangman?” you sniffle.

“I’m here,” is all he can think to say right now, but it’s the truth.

The door opens and you look awful. Your eyes are puffy and snot all down your face. Jake spots a box of tissues behind you in the closet and grabs it. “C’mere,” he says reaching for you. He hands you the tissues and you wipe your eyes and nose.

You start to cry again, “how could I be so stupid.”

“You didn’t know.” Jake tries to comfort you as best he can. He’s wracking his brain.

“I did know. I knew. I didn’t want to accept it, but I knew.”

“I- saw him. With her tonight earlier and I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

“I should have ended it a long time ago,” you say with a heavy sigh and sit down on the floor.

“Why didn’t you?” Jake asks, sitting down next to you. He leans his head against the wall, listening.

“I was in over my head, he was fun at first.”

Jake thought that hearing you talk about him would make him jealous. It hurts him more to think about you going through something like this than his own pride. Maybe in a small way he feels better knowing it wasn’t just in his head about how Scythe was as a person.

“You wanna know something?” you look over at him. He leans forward to look at you. Damn, you’re pretty.  “I only said yes to dating him to make you jealous. I wanted you to make your move.”

Jake’s heartrate starts to pick up. Is he hearing what he thinks he’s hearing?

“I was nervous, you made me so nervous. I didn’t know what to do and so I said yes to him and then I got in a messy situation. And I didn’t know how to climb out.”

“I made you nervous?” a slow smile forms on his face. Cheeky. You elbow his arm with a shy little laugh. He’d eat you up right now if he could, you’re adorable.

“You still do,” you bite your inner cheek.

Jake reaches for your hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’m sorry all this happened, should have just asked you sooner.” He elbows you back playfully, “but you could have asked me out…”  

“Hangman, honestly,” you laugh and shove his shoulder. “I could barely talk to you as it was! This is stroking your ego too much.”

“Damn straight,” he laughs back, cocking his head as he speaks.

 You take a deep breath, the you tell him, “Help me up.”

You start to stand, and Jake is quick to jump to his feet to help you. You grab him by his jacket and pull him with you into the closet. Your lips on his in an instant. He’s quick to follow you, and he’s closing the door behind him and kissing all over your face and neck.

“Hangman!” you squeal between kisses.

He pulls back to look at you, “it’s Jake.”

Your eyes well up just a little bit and you exchange smiles before you kiss each other again. This time you bump teeth and are holding onto each other giggling in a supply closet.

His kisses get more heated. He shoves your dress strap down and plants open mouth kisses on your bare shoulder.

“You want to use a line so bad right now I know you do,” you giggle into his neck. “About how you’ll be better than him.”

“Well? If it’s the truth?” Jake gives you a little smirk. But then he watches your face fall.

“That’s one of the reasons I should have ended things,” you tell him. Your bodies are so close, you’re fully pressed up against him. The buttons on his dress uniform are digging into you. “He was moving too fast, and I wasn’t ready.” Your lip trembles and you start to cry again. “I really did like him and then he made me feel so bad about myself.”

“Listen,” Jake slowly puts the shoulder strap back up your arm and gives it a little kiss. “I just want you. Doesn’t matter how fast or slow. You’ve been in my head for months. Just being able to call you mine?” You slowly start to smile at him. “If that’s what you want of course.”

“Jake,” you squeeze his arm. Then reach to touch the hairs on the back of his neck. “Why do you think I pulled you into this closet to make-out a little bit?”

He grins and leans in to kiss you some more. His hand cradling your head, and your hands in his hair.

“We should probably get back to the wedding,” you gasp suddenly. “People might be wondering where we are.”

“Let ‘em wonder,” Jake kisses you again, hardly believing this right now.

“I want to dance with you again.”

“Yes ma’am,” he grins and opens the door. You both smile at each other adjusting your hair and rumbled clothes. Jake has lipstick all over his face, and he’s not sure if he wants to wipe it off.

“C’mon Lieutenant,” you smile tugging his arm.

“So, I really made you that nervous?”

“Shut up Seresin!”

[attapullman]

That's Mine | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: Bob likes Rooster. He does. So why does he suddenly hate him when his childhood best friend agrees to go out on a date with the pilot?

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: f!reader, 18+ ONLY as always, smut, protected pinv, oral (f receiving), praise!kink, fluff, dirty humour, alcohol mentions, sorry to all the Rooster girlies

Author's Note: This is my official jealous best friend!bob entry for my event International Bob Floyd Fucks Month. Thank you to everyone who has celebrated this silly little thing and continued the Bob Fucks agenda. I just love him so much. Save a Rooster, ride a Bob!

“What do you mean Rooster asked you out?” 

He’s hot on your heels through the house, following you out to where you’re watering the ferns on the deck. You can’t see his face, but the simmering annoyance is palpable. In your mind’s eye you can see the little vein that pops out only when he’s seriously irritated. An emotion he reserves only for you.

Who would have guessed that two strangers pairing up for a Mommy & Me class decades ago would evolve into the inseparable, eye-rolling, belly laughing attachment of you and your best friend. He keeps you focused, eyes on the prize and safely home by ten. You bring Robby out of his shell, actually wanting to jump in and join the crowd. Occasionally both giving each other a headache, but always ending with a punch on the shoulder while sharing a carton of Haagen Daas. 

You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him. He’s being so annoying about this Rooster thing.

It’s been four months since you followed him out to San Diego. A quick summons to Top Gun that led to him out in the middle of the ocean while you whined to your roommate about what if he doesn’t come home this time? How could you possibly survive without him infodumping about WWI missiles and whether milk or dark chocolate made better cookies? 

And then you’d gotten the call,  B.O.B. flashing across the screen and the photo from that summer in high school where he let you paint a butterfly on his face. The mission was successful. He was safe. And he was staying in Fightertown permanently with this squadron. A few months later, when your roommate accidentally lit your stove on fire, he asked if you wanted to come down and stay for a few weeks. By the end of the month you had rented a small craftsman and his truck was a regular fixture outside.

Then a month ago, when he’d swung by after work, khaki uniform freshly pressed, and asked if you wanted to come to the local Navy bar to meet the names he spent so much time talking to you about. Fiddling with the edge of his glasses, nervous you wouldn’t like his new crew as well as the Lemoore squadron you’d spent years befriending. But if they were good enough for Bob, they were good enough for you.

Rooster was hot. All curly auburn hair and big brown eyes. You’d hit it off quickly, the two of you against Phoenix and Bob, sharing stories about your beloved bespectacled WSO and his sassy quip of the day. Phoenix still couldn’t believe that Bob had used a Superbad quote for the high school yearbook. You still remember the horrified look on his mom’s face.

But last night had been different. Phoenix and Bob had huddled a Budweiser cup of peanuts and discussed strategy most of the night, Fanboy rounding off the table once he heard “electronic warfare”. Your best friend’s dedication to work was commendable, but what were you supposed to do at a Navy bar when he was busy? Luckily the baby cow-eyed pilot had taken pity and bought you a round, taking you out to the back deck to appreciate the beach while Hangman rowdily dominated the pool table. 

Rooster had been sweet, asking about your childhood with Bob and what you thought of San Diego. Between the kind male attention and the slutty light wash jeans, you were only human for looking up at him through your lashes and flirting a little. And you felt light as air when Bob came outside ready to take you home, your number in Rooster’s phone and a date secured for Friday. 

“Seriously? You’re not going to answer me?” Why was annoying Robby so fun? So sweet and calm under the most pressured of situations, every once in a while he prickled. 

You finish with the deck plants and retreat back inside, making sure the windowsill babies are plenty hydrated in the late afternoon sun. “Why do you care? You like Rooster.”

It’s alarmingly loud in the silence as he thinks through that one.

Because Bob does like Rooster. He’s a little older, outgoing, the kind of guy he trusts on a life-or-death mission. In the last few months he would even venture to say they’d become more friends than coworkers, Natasha always bringing them together for a night out. So why did it bother him so much when you said you were going out with Rooster tomorrow night?

Instead of answering, he keeps his conflicted thoughts to himself and starts helping with the plants. There’s no point in an argument he’s not going to win, especially when he’s not sure what he’s even fighting for.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye, metal frames glinting in the low afternoon light, gelled hair out of formation from training with his helmet on all day. Maybe you did overstep by agreeing to go out with one of his coworkers. “You want to get street tacos and make fun of C-list celebrities?” 

His eyes light up as he nods and overwaters your calathea.

Half a six pack of Mexican lager later and the two of you are sprawled across the living room furniture, Bob’s socked feet up on the coffee table and yours over the arm of the wingback he helped you haul home four years ago. Save the fuzzy tipsiness clouding your senses, you’re transported back to weekend nights in high school. Watching old John Hughes movies and laughing so hard soda shot up your nose. Life has been full of so many incredible opportunities, but evenings in front of the TV with Robby are your most cherished memories.

“Oh my god!” you squeal. “Could he be any more cringeworthy? Put a shirt on!” Your fingers cover your eyes, pretending to be offended by the young twentysomething currently stripping off on your trashy television show of choice. 

Bob laughs from his spot on the sofa, beer can dwarfed in that massive hand. “Oh please, you love when they’re half naked for no reason.” He feels that weird tug in his chest for the second time today, but chalks it up to the meat from his street tacos. 

You roll your eyes playfully, giving him that toothy smile you’ve perfected since elementary school. “Ya,” you slur a little. “But as my best friend you’re not allowed to judge.”

As if he could find fault in you.

Payback has been talking to him for the past twenty minutes. Bob hasn’t heard a word. Just continues staring at the front door of the Hard Deck like it will magically conjure you. 

You’re out with Rooster right now, at that restaurant with the breathtaking ocean view and spicy mozzarella sticks. And while you didn’t tell him, he knows you’re wearing the dress with the eyelet lace and your hair down for once. And you’re probably giving him that toothy grin while he talks about 80’s music and shows you photos of working on the Bronco. You’re likely planning your second date already.

He likes Rooster. He likes Rooster. He likes Rooster. So why does he suddenly hate him?

Payback has completely given up on conversation when the door opens and in strides that floral print smug son of a bitch. Bob’s hand grips the table, grounding himself that it’s not a hallucination. Rooster’s hand is respectfully on your waist, leading you through the throng of Friday night patrons. And you look pretty as can be in that dress, your hair slightly covering your warm cheeks and bashful eyes as a strong man looks after you. 

The pilot grins at his squadron, tipping his chin in greeting, knowing he’s got the prettiest girl in the room on his arm. You give Bob a goofy lopsided grin, happy to see him after a lovely night out. Happy that Rooster offered to drop you by before taking you home so you could see your best friend. 

There’s nervous energy bubbling under your skin, eager to download about your dinner and drinks, and you wish you were back at home in the kitchen, mugs of hot chocolate in your hands while you and Robby gabbed about your latest romantic excursions like back in the day.

Things were so much simpler when you were seventeen.

Especially because back then he wasn’t weird when you had crushes, or met someone on Hinge. And he certainly didn’t give you that tight lipped frown that you want to smooth off his face. It’s you and him against the world, so why does it suddenly feel like it’s you against him?

“Hey Robby,” you start, giving him your gentlest smile. “You win darts?” He gives a half shrug, picking at his cup of peanuts. Cool, that’s how he’s gonna play it.

You sit next to Rooster at the piano, letting him play a few songs and rally the crowd. You’re a little bored of the repertoire you’ve heard on repeat since your first Hard Deck visit, but give him an encouraging smile nonetheless to be polite. 

You like Rooster. But even after a nice night, you know you don’t want to pursue this. Not at the sake of your friendship with Bob.

Everyone’s stomping their feet and slapping their hands to Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” when exhaustion hits you. The back of your hand against your mouth signaling that you’ve had enough for one day. The sweet chocolate eyes of your piano partner give you a caring look as he asks if you want him to drive you home. The hope for a goodnight kiss twinkles in his eye.

“No need, I can take her!” It’s instant adrenaline the way the WSO has launched across the room. You rush to thank Rooster for a nice night as he’s left behind on the piano bench. Bob hasn’t said a single word to you all night and yet he’s borderline dragging you out to his truck. The calloused edges of his fingers digging into your bare arm, the soft flannel of his shirt brushing against your hands when he helps you into the truck. They’re all familiar feelings, yet tonight feels different.

He’s completely silent on the drive, the radio playing some alternative rock music barely audible over the silence. He may be quiet with others, happy to take a back seat, but he’s never had an issue piping up with you. It’s punishment. Punishment for trying to have a good time with a guy who you’ve decided you don’t want. 

When he parks in front of your cozy craftsman - the house he toured with you, helped you with the paperwork, bought the bubbly to commemorate the occasion - you’re both at a standstill. Last night you’d been able to put your differences aside for trashy television and tacos. Tonight…you’re just hoping he’ll come inside.

“Who do I gotta bang around here to get you to come inside?” His chuckle is weak, eyes looking anywhere but you.

Because while you’re trying to figure out where you’ve gone wrong, Bob has been having an existential crisis since Bradley fuckin’ Bradshaw put his hand on your waist. A crisis that’s been gaining speed since you followed him out to Lemoore all those years ago and has arrived at a screeching halt, crawling out of his throat. And he’s too shy to tell his lifelong best friend what’s been bothering him for as long as he’s known.

You’re…it. 

It’s the way you laugh with your entire face. How you always have a comeback. Your endless love for others. The endearing way you order a pancake for the table at brunch. You’ve been the entire package this whole time. And someone seeing it before him is infuriating.

He follows you inside, watching the way the light radiates at the high points of your face. This is going to be harder than expected.

Robert Floyd has known for years that his best friend is amazing. Practically his whole life. Not a single doubt they’d make an incredible partner. The tiniest crush forming at just how good of a partner. Daydreaming about their current arrangement - the movie nights, the early morning beach walks, the Sunday afternoon bubble tea runs - with a dash of domestic bliss had his heart thudding in his chest.

What he hadn’t been prepared for was Wednesday night, when he came to collect you for the drive home. Sitting next to Rooster, a cup of peanuts loosely hanging from your hand as you looked up at the pilot with long lashed eyes and a seductive twitch of a smile. The way you’d bitten your lip when you said goodbye, turning back to Robby with that flirty glint still in your eye; instantly resetting to friendly excitement as you followed him to the parking lot.

He needed to make you look at him like that.

And now here, in your living room, while you hand him a glass of water and look at him with those impossibly pretty eyes - fuck. How does he explain?

You’re concerned, watching the turmoil on his face and convinced you’ve seriously crossed a line this time. You’ve always been the troublemaker of the dynamic, the bursting bubbly energy to his impossibly sweet silence. Won’t he please share what’s on his mind?

He’s not sure if it’s the burning need to release this tension from his body, or the way your face looks so upset at his indecision, but suddenly the dam bursts. All rational thought out the window as he finally speaks up.

“If I don’t fuck you right now I think I might die.”

It’s impossible to tell whose eyes are wider. His in embarrassment that came out and so whiny. Yours in total shock. Your brain has blue screened and all you can do is blink slowly back into focus, centering on the pink cheeks and bashful baby blue eyes in front of you.

Licking your lips, you sputter out, “W-what?”

You both know you heard him. It was impossible not to with the intense neediness dripping out of every syllable. His carnal need to know what you feel like, taste like. The way those thick, long fingers of his tensed on his knee.

A thousand emotions pass behind your eyes, reflected in his glasses. A handful of ways to handle this situation, but only one makes sense. 

“Come over here. We can’t have you dying, now can we?”

There is nothing graceful about the collision of bodies that happens. Navy-trained strength meeting enthusiastic energy. He’s across the room before you can finish your sentence, the slight pause of uncertainty met with your bound into his arms. Warm lips finding each other, hesitant yet sure. The hands on your hips are familiar in a different circumstance. 

The waves crashing down on Bob’s brain slow, and he’s instantly soothed as he enjoys the subtle tang to your taste. You’ve worn the same perfume for the last decade, yet this is the first time it’s driven him wild. Pulling back, he takes a deep breath to fill his lungs with the perfect scent. His fingers, fast as light when he works controls, are slow and controlled over the curve of your waist. 

“I hate that Rooster touched you. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours?’

He leans forward, gaze level, breaths intermingling. “You’re mine.”

Eyes wide, glossy lip between your teeth…Bob hasn’t seen anything sexier in his life. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers scratching along his scalp as you fight for dominance in your kisses. He’s gaining confidence the longer you moan into his mouth, a sinful sound he wasn’t prepared to hear. Years of listening to you talk about dates and crushes, and now he’s experiencing it first hand.

You’re caught up in the way he’s trailing his large hands up and down your torso, tentatively brushing against the curve of your ass. Waiting for him to call the shots for what happens next. Frustrated he hasn’t already spread you out on the stupidly expensive cotton duvet he convinced you to buy.

“Robby?” He hums, lips preoccupied with your neck. “Not to be ungrateful, but I thought you were going to fuck me?”

The deep scarlet that spreads across your best friend’s cheeks is one for the record books. Jackpot.

He’s practically falling over himself, hands everywhere at once as he collects his thoughts. “You’re sure…you’re sure you want this?”

The seething jealousy that’s consumed him since Wednesday has dissipated, and the horny fog has lifted temporarily. All that’s left is ensuring you’re both on the same page. Once this happens, there’s no going back. As much as he’s looking forward to taking off that pretty dress, you need to be ready to make the same leap.

Swallowing a deep breath, drowning in those eager cerulean blues, you shift your thigh to press against the bulge in his jeans. A bulge all the girls in Lemoore talked about when they thought you weren’t listening. There’s a curiosity burning in you, a need to know if he’s just as sweet in bed as he is when he’s picking you up or helping with dinner. Things have always been platonic - they needed to be, you wouldn’t have survived a childhood crushing on the bespectacled sweetheart who grew up to be an incredible man.

You know the risks, but the rewards are greater. Life is too short to not experience fucking Robert Floyd.

A kiss to his lips. A wink. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

You sound like children giggling on the playground as you run down the hall to your bedroom, trying not to trip on the hall runner as he presses you against the wall to pepper you in scorching kisses. Breathy laughs as you explore this new part to your dynamic. Overwhelming lust mixed with lifelong companionship.

Once you make it to the bedroom - that supima bedspread underneath you, his hips cradled against yours - the innocent giggles dissipate as you take in the man above you. No longer the pink-cheeked child, the gawky teenager, Robby is nothing but height and strength and…broad? When did he get so broad? Naturally so meek and unassuming, the pure size of him is unexpected. But pinning you to the bed with those veiny hands and strong thighs, a collision of attraction overwhelms you.

There’s nothing delicate about the way he grinds his hips into yours, whimpers leaving both your lips. Your panties are soaked, he’s stretching the front of his jeans. Desperation fills the space between you.

His lips wander from your jaw, your neck, the space behind your ear, all the way to your passion-swollen lips. His voice is unsure, but hopeful, as he whispers against them, “Can I go down on you?”

Your eyes bloom wide - not only because you’d like nothing more, but you’ve remembered something from years ago. Something at the time you’d tried to forget. A night out with the Lemoore crew at that shoddy bar, everyone drunk after being out at sea for weeks, and you sat near the back waiting for Bob to come back with drinks. A small group of female aviators sat at the next table over, having clocked the shy WSO on his way to the bar. One had giggled, her friends shooting her a questioning glance. You’ll never forget when she replied, “I’d heard the rumors and didn’t believe them, but can confirm that Bob Floyd eats pussy like a starving man. Best hour of my life.”

As soon as he sees your slightly too eager nod, he’s working his way down your body, appreciating the feel of your dress and soft skin. Breath held as he officially breaches out of friend territory and lifts the hem, treating himself to the satin he can’t wait to pull aside. 

Lip worried between your teeth, a whimper is punched out of you when a hot mouth secures itself around your mound, thick tongue exploring the crevices of your covered folds. A finger slips itself along your entrance, bringing to attention the soaked material.

“Someone’s excited.” The lust-driven chuckle against your thigh has you shivering. “You want me to eat your sweet little pussy?”

He’s never used that voice on you, husky and mocking. You’re shaking with desire, for him to stop teasing and give you what you want. An hour ago he was just your friend, and now you’ve never felt so needy for a man’s touch. So far gone you don’t even notice the desperate nod you give him.

He presses another wet kiss to your clothed clit before wrapping his long fingers in the fabric. Prompting you to lift up slightly so he can have unimpeded access to this feast. Skimming his nose along your thighs, hot air directly on your slick cunt. The whimpers escaping you doing nothing but prolonging the teasing.

Bob can feel how you tremble, the way your fingers are smoothing over the bedspread in an effort to self-soothe. He’s satisfied that he’s gotten you as frustrated and ill-content as he’s felt for years. Needing something, not knowing if you’ll like it, but knowing that if you don’t have it you’ll never feel satisfied.

His fingers spread you out. Head dips. The lightest touch of his tongue to damp arousal.

Holy fuck. He does eat pussy like a starving man. Pushing his face in closer and closer, his tongue reaching for every inch of the promised land. His fingers wrapped around your thighs, pulling you in. Hot, wet muscle opening you up as he drools. 

Eyes unfocused, you’re in a new dimension and yet he’s enjoying it more. 

That deliciously fuzzy feeling starts to tingle in your stomach, pressure building between your thighs as your best friend helps himself. Blunt nails raking up and down your legs to ground you in the experience. The sharp edge of his metal frames occasionally snagging on the skin. They alone make you want to cry to the heavens. But it’s the way he’s sloppily forcing his tongue into your cunt, lewd noises ringing around the room, that has you clamping your lips shut to not wake all of San Diego.

He senses that you’re holding back, not giving him everything he wants. You’ve been best friends since day one, he knows when you not being authentic.

That delicious tongue withdraws from your thighs and you can feel his stare on you. Waiting patiently for you to make eye contact. The pussy drunk, yet concerned look he gives you as he nudges you. “It’s okay, it’s me. I’m never going to judge you.”

Blue eyes meet yours. The same blue eyes that have consistently seen you safely out the other side of any bad situation the two of you have faced. That always comes home from deployment so matter how much you worry. The same ones that you know will guide and protect you on this journey as well. He’s your best friend. No one else can keep you this safe.

After your nod, he dips his slick lips back to your core, his smile upon your skin. Quickly losing himself in your flavor as he nudges you back open. His own hips rocking against the mattress as you allow your bitten lips to part, moans and whimpers and sharp intakes of breath filling the air. Losing yourself in his over-and-above technique to bring you to the edge.

His own muted moans vibrate against your core. Dexterous tongue and calloused middle finger (followed quickly by another) sliding in and out with ease. It’s too much and not enough, overwhelming your senses and making your brain whirr. Skin slick with sweat as that fuzzy feeling in your stomach returns and your feet tingle. Your eyes gazing unfocused down at Robby, hopelessly turned on at his dedication to making you feel good.

“C’mon, be good for me.”

His muffled words stretch the string and bring you home, thighs clamping around his damp face as a scream escapes your throat. Fingers twisting in the bedspread. Back arching. The view has him slack jawed and starry eyed, fingers still pumping in and out to prolong your orgasm. A slight tilt of his lips into a smile at how content you are when he finally catches your gaze through labored breaths.

Your brain slowly comes back to you, thoughts racing through sludge. Eyes fixed on cerulean as a smile stretches your lips. “Where the fuck did you learn to do that?”

He laughs, a surprised, carefree sound as he uses your thighs to help himself up the bed. Gives you a little wink as he grins, “It can get kind of boring on deployment.”

“Recon and intelligence protection missions are boring?”

“Yeah, when you’re not there to annoy me.” His dimples are out in full force, laughter twinkling out of every pore on his perfect face. You slug him a little, your orgasm still working its way through your body. The urge to roll over and sleep just as strong as the urge to shove him in your cunt through his jeans. 

You’ve had a taste and you need more.

He’s already one step ahead of you, shrugging the soft flannel and faded tshirt from his body. Gently cranes you in his arms as he helps unzip and lift your dress above your head. The garbled choking sound and intake of breath when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra makes you proud. You’ve always thought Bob was attractive in an understated, sweet way. To know he’s attracted to you makes any doubt about this situation indefinitely fade.

Sitting in front of him, not a scrap of fabric on you, you feel good. He’s the best guy you know, the one you have always sung his praises because there’s literally no one better. The only difference between a friendship and a relationship is sex. That’s all that’s been missing.

It’s time to take the plunge.

You swallow his lips with yours, fingers twisting in his sun-lightened hair. His arms wrapping around you, holding you secure to him. Both of you gasping at the feeling of your bare torsos touching. It’s electric. It’s satisfying. It’s grounding.

Hands quick to unzip his jeans, laughing as he tries to help only for you to bat him away. “You got to undress me, I want to undress you.”

The groan he emits reverberates. You’re so sexy and it’s driving him crazy. There was his fleeting crush in high school, but this…this is beyond his wildest dreams. Allowing your soft fingers to dip below the waist of his boxers, shimmying the denim and cotton down his legs. Your lips struck open in awe at the heavy, hard, thick appendage resting against his thigh. 

“You tell me every secret you have, and yet you keep the python in your pants to yourself?” He laughs, a hand wrapping around the base as you flounder to mentally combine Robby, your meek best friend, with the red-tipped joyride protruding from his pelvis. 

He helps himself to a condom from the box in the nightstand - the one you jokingly said you’d never use when he watched you unpack. You’re almost worried it’s going to be too small, but he glides it on with ease before lowering you both onto the bed, biceps straining as he adjusts. Bob can feel your slick center against the bottom of his dick and it’s taking everything in him to not make himself at home.

As you prepare yourself for what’s about to be a hell of a stretch, he kisses the top of your breasts, skimming his nose against your soft skin. Even in this moment his main priority is making you comfortable and feel safe. “We can go slow, it’s okay.”

But where Bob is safe and secure, you’re adventurous, curious. You want to know what he feels like now. 

The wild fire of your eyes bores into his calm ocean blue. “Where’s the fun in that?”

A shift of hips and he’s slipping through, arousal and spit gently gliding the tip of him in. Your fingers twist in his hair, pulling on the Navy-approved length at the nape of his neck. A sharp tug that prompts a yelp as he drives his hips forward, slipping inch after inch into you. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you struggle to adjust. Fuck, he’s so big.

He’s kissing your temple, whispering how good you’re being for him. I know it hurts, you’re doing so well, almost there, baby. His thumb sliding between your bodies to rub pointed circles on your clit. He’s barely started and you’re already leaving your body, watching yourself be stuffed to the brim.

The neatly trimmed hairs of his pelvis poke along your clit and you’re proud of yourself for taking all of him. Nudging Bob softly to move because you’re uncomfortably full. Back arching into his strong chest as he explores parts of you that you didn’t know existed. 

In no time at all he’s thrusting with all his power, leaving you a moaning mess. Fingers clutching to any sweaty skin you can find, nails leaving their mark. He’s red-faced and huffing above you, eyes switching between your blissed out expression and the way your breasts sway with his heavy thrusts. This is heaven. This is everything. Why did he wait to say anything?

Suddenly you’re pawing at his chest, pushing him to roll over. “C’mon Floyd, let me rock your world now.”

He’s pretty sure you could blow him a kiss and rock his world, but he’s definitely not complaining about the view. The silhouette of you against the San Diego moon - big beaming smile and tight nipples. Wishes he had a camera to forever commemorate the first of many times you ask to ride him. A picture book of your perfect face all the way down to you split over his dick with different backgrounds.

From this angle it’s tight, but you’re not a quitter. Rocking your hips to loosen up, hands finding purchase on his chest. His big smile is back, eyes completely dilated while he can’t decide where to look. You’re seeing stars and he’s seeing diamonds. 

Once rhythm comes to you, you’re bouncing, loving the way he fills you to the hilt each time. His encouraging smile behind golden rims. You’re with someone who knows the real you, who encourages you to be your best self. And with his strong, veiny hands wrapped around your waist, helping along your movements, you know he’s…it.

It’s hard to tell where your moans end and his start, both of you polluting the air with inhales and groans mixed with the occasional squelch of sex. Your skin is shimmering, thighs begging for reprieve. You can’t get enough of the way he perfectly fills you every time. 

Sensing your exhaustion, he brings you closer, slotting his mouth over yours in a filthy, sloppy kiss. Starting to meet your thrusts as you inch closer and closer to your orgasm. Having to calm himself before he ruins your rhythm. The idea of you cumming on his cock has him dizzy. You rake your fingers through his hair one last time, eyes unable to meet as your lashes flutter, and he knows. You’re here, he’s gotten you to the edge.

That big hand on your lower back soothes as you clench for the final time, pulsing. You’ve officially left Earth, watching yourself convulse on top of Robby while he rocks himself up into you. “Good girl…yeah, that’s right…feels so good, huh?” 

Forget the best sex of your life, this orgasm can never be topped.

You’re half-heartedly pressing kisses to his forehead as he begin the descent to his own orgasm. Feet flat to the mattresses as he cants his hips up, desperate to drive every inch into you. The fluttering of your cunt the most amazing thing he’s ever felt, catapulting him over the edge quicker than any partner he’s had before. Shoving his face into your neck, licking at your salty skin, he knows his release is inevitable.

“C’mon Robby, cum for me.”

All reason leaves him and he bites down, lips securing over the delicate slope of your neck. A while light flashes behind his eyes and he’s filling up the condom, squeezing out every ounce of release. He suckles the skin, soothing himself as his spent body blinks back to life. Smiles sheepishly when he meets your eyes, as you smile at him sweetly.

Words don’t exist as you hold each other under the covers, tracing skin and giggling when the other finds a ticklish spot. At some point he disposes of the condom, but you’re still not fully there. Everything is good and special and you want to live in this moment forever.

When Bob strolls into the Hard Deck Saturday night, one arm looped around your waist, everything was right in his world.

His colleagues and friends sat in the back near the pool table, sipping beers and winning a game against another squadron. The two of you stroll up, looking decidedly more friendly than they’ve ever seen. Especially when Bob won’t let go of your waist and you keep touching him. 

You can’t help it. You’ve gotten a taste and now you’re insatiable.

The group takes in their WSO, standing a little taller than usual with his uncontrollable grin. And then they take in you, beaming, all smiles, looking right at home by Bob’s side in your tight jeans and cute little top. A cute little top that perfectly shows off the dark purpling mark mottling on your collar - teeth marks still visible in the right light.

While Robby confirms your drink order, there is stunned silence from the other half of the pool table. Mouths agape, a gleam of pride in Jake’s eye. Phoenix picks herself up first, eyes blinking rapidly at the sudden realization of last night’s events. Clocks that you went out with Rooster, yet went home with Floyd. 

“So, uh, what happened there?” She gestures to the obvious love bite. One that definitely wasn’t there when the group saw you last.

You bite your lip and look at your lifelong best friend. The guy who showed you his love last night…and then several more times this morning. His crinkled eyes drift from yours to the spot where he bit down as he came for you for the first time.

Turning to look at his squadron, he plays it cool and  shrugs, mumbling through his blush, “Can’t blame me for making sure no one else plays with my toys.”

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[livwritesstuff]

Eddie is holed up in the office of his and Steve’s home working on some writing when he notices an odd kind of commotion coming from upstairs.

Now, he and Steve have three daughters under the age of ten, so commotion is pretty much a baseline for them, but it’s odd because it sounds like Steve might actually be involved this time, and that makes it especially weird because Eddie was pretty sure that Steve was taking the kids to see a movie to give Eddie a few hours to maybe hit that word count goal (he probably won't, but whatever).

It's just about odd enough for Eddie to go investigate further and, indeed, he finds a very much ticked-off Steve standing outside of their middle daughter Robbie’s closed bedroom door.

“What the hell is going on?” Eddie asks.

Steve rounds on him. 

“She’s driving me insane,” Steve says, “That kid is you in a seven-year-old’s body, and I’m going insane.”

“Wait, can you…” Ed shook his head, “What’s happening?”

“I thought it would be fun to take the girls to that new Nanny McPhee movie because they liked the first one, right?” he starts

“Sure.”

“The second – the second – I suggested it, Robbie starts ranting and raving. Ed, do you know what she said to me? 

“Oh god,” Eddie said warily, “What’d she say?”

“She said sequels aren’t passion projects, Papa. They’re just for money. Who the fuck do you think she learned that one from, Ed?”

And yeah, shit, that might be Eddie’s bad.

“Whatever,” Steve says before Eddie has a chance to respond, “So she doesn’t wanna go – that’s fine – but, shocker, the other two still want to go, and just as we’re walking out the door, Robbie demands that we wait for her because she actually does want to come and now,” Steve pauses to hold in a laugh as Robbie scutters out of her room in the direction of the bathroom, one shoe on and an earring half-in, “Now we’re gonna be so fuckin’ late because this one can’t just throw on a sweatshirt and get in the car.”

Eddie knows for a fact that Robbie had spent the entire weekend in the same pajamas she’d worn to bed on Friday night, but now she’s donned a denim dress with a red t-shirt and black tights underneath. She’s got black combat boots on her feet (just one at the moment, actually), and she’s wearing the leather jacket Eddie had found at a thrift shop in New York to complete the ensemble.

“Look at this kid,” Steve says, following Robbie into the bathroom and watching as she tried to fix her earring with one hand and her hair with the other, “Robbie, it’s August. It’s almost ninety degrees outside. Maybe think about ditching the leather.”

“I don’t care,” she fires back, “It’s about the look, Papa.”

“We’re going to a movie theater. It’ll be pitch black. Nobody will be looking at anything other than the movie. Let’s go.”

But Robbie is already pushing past him with a belligerent, “Outta my way. I gotta get another necklace.”

Steve manages to snag Robbie by the back of her jacket and swing her up into his arms.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he says as Robbie furiously tries to squirm out of his grip to no avail, “Oh, I’m Robbie and I’m four feet tall and I get up-in-arms about everything and I’m gonna wear a leather jacket in August even though I once got heat exhaustion at the mall and gave my dad a fuckin’ heart attack.”

Robbie is in giggling hysterics by the time Steve ends his onslaught of mockery and puts her down.

“What do you think?” Steve asks, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she says, and then she asks, “Can you help me find my other shoe?”

“And now she’s asking me for shit,” Steve comments in disbelief as Robbie ducks back into her room. He looks at Eddie, “Seriously, you need to call Wayne and apologize for everything you must have put him through.”

“Alright.”

[miryum]

"The Stakeout"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“Did you leave the precinct last night?” Jason set a mug of coffee next to Y/n’s desk. 

“The internet’s out at my apartment. The neighbour I’m leeching off turned it off for a couple days to teach their kids a lesson and this is the only place I can watch Bluey.”

“The kids show?” Jason raised a brow. 

Tim gasped and raced to Y/n’s computer. “I love Bluey!”

“Of course,” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you dare scoff at the majesty that is Bluey!” Y/n pressed a dramatic hand to her chest. “Clearly, you haven’t seen its brilliance. Sit down, baby Jay. You’re gonna love this.”

Both Tim and Jason crowded around the screen. Y/n pressed the keyboard and the iconic intro music played. Tim hummed along and Jason stared longingly at his book.

He hardly registered when the unicorn came on screen. “Children,” Tim and Y/n murmured with the unicorn.

The unicorn was spoiling a book about a princess and shoes. Jason wasn’t really paying attention. He could be reviewing files or reading books or bothering Damian. All valuable uses of his time.

“Wait, did you quote John Mulaney?” Jason realised. 

“Baby Jay? Yeah.” Y/n shushed him, “now watch this cinematic masterpiece.” 

“It’s a goddamn kid show. Any adult that watches this voluntarily needs therapy.”

“Yeah, I thought that was obvious,” Tim peered at him. “You’ve known us for more than four years. You hadn’t deduced that already?” 

“Touche.” 

“She calls herself The Queen of Crime,” Dick announced to the briefing room. “Or more well-known as Harley Quinn. She and her wife have broken into, set fire, exploded, and murdered more people and places than I can count.”

Y/n gasped. “Oh my gosh, gay crime queens? Do you think they would adopt me?”

“L/n, you would be an accomplice.” Tim frowned at his friend. 

“I would go to jail for my criminal moms.” 

“Anyway,” Dick rolled his eyes, a smile creeping at his mouth. “L/n and Todd will be staking out a place we’ve seen Quinn and Isley frequent. Cain will be their contact. Drake and Brown, I have another assignment for you that involves a murder.” 

“A murder?” Y/n whined. “No fair! How come I’m stuck with Todd and Steph gets a murder?” 

“I’m just better than you,” Stephanie shrugged. Y/n glowered at her. 

“I’m sure you’ll make the stakeout incredibly frustrating and boring,” Jason patted Y/n’s arm from his seat next to her. 

“Frustrating and boring: Title of your sex tape,” Y/n muttered, crossing her arms. “Dickie, you can’t expect me to live with Todd for three days! He won’t even do anything! He’ll just read and… I don’t know, what other nerdy things do you do?”

“Nerdy?” Jason shot back, “Says the person who references every TV show known to man!”

“Just so everyone knows,” Y/n raised a finger up. “The obsession this week is the Barbie movie.”

“Amen,” Steph clapped Y/n’s hand in a high-five. 

Cass fistbumped her. “Margot Robbie is a goddess amongst men.”

“Speaking of goddesses: Julie Andrews.” Y/n said. Steph hummed in agreement. “Princess Diaries marathon this weekend?”

“Y/n,” Dick interrupted. “You’ll be on a stakeout with Jason.”

“You think that will stop me?”

“No,” Dick admitted. “But... we‘re done. Everybody just go back to work.”

“You remind me of the Hulk.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jason looked away from the camera that was perched in the windowsill.

“You remind me of the Hulk,” Y/n repeated from her seat on a beanbag chair. She grabbed some goldfish and popped them in her mouth. The apartment where the stakeout was taking place was small and decrepit. When Y/n had first seen it, she’d said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t wanna get tetanus.” Jason had locked the door before she could escape. (“If you wanted me alone, Jay, you could’ve just asked.”)

“How so?” Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes before turning back to stare out the grime-covered window.

“Well, first off, you’re fricking huge, but also a nerd.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a destructive green monster.” 

“I don’t know what you do outside of work.” Y/n shrugged. “But seriously, my dude. You need to stop working out. You’re making the rest of us look bad.” She reached over and poked Jason in the bicep.

“Are you flirting with me?” Jason smirked.

Y/n huffed and said, “you wish, Todd.” Thankfully, the walkie talkie crackled to life. “Talk to me, Goose,” Y/n snickered into the walkie talkie. 

Cass replied, “Maverick, we’re getting intel that Quinn and Isley are headed your way.”

“Thanks, man. Iceman’s keeping a watchout.”

“Iceman?!” Jason scoffed. “What makes me Iceman?!”

“Because you’re all stoic and impassive and eventually, you fall in love with me,” Y/n explained.

“I don’t remember Iceman and Maverick’s romance,” Cass’s voice was staticy and Jason was surprised she was still listening. 

“Come on,” Y/n’s eyebrows rose incredulously. “We could all feel the tension.” Cass hummed in acquiescence.

“L/n,” Jason shushed. “They’re here.” Y/n immediately quieted and turned off the walkie talkie. She went to sit next to Jason, making sure the camera was effectively hidden behind a screen. Outside, the pair could see a large truck pull up to the warehouse across the street. Out jumped Harley Quinn, her pigtails bouncing as she whistled. She skipped around the semi-truck and opened the door for her wife, Pamela Isley. Isley gave Quinn a kiss on the cheek and Y/n let out an ‘aw!’ Jason rolled his eyes and said, “just because they’re lesbians doesn’t mean they’re cute. They’ve committed many crimes.” 

“Being lesbians automatically makes them adorable and exempts them from all their crimes.”

Jason shushed her again and started taking pictures, the camera softly clicking away. Quinn opened the back of the semi and Isley pulled open the doors of the warehouse. Cheerfully, Quinn stacked boxes for Isley to roll away on a dolly. 

“What’s in the boxes?” Y/n wondered. 

“Do you think we’d be here if I knew?” Y/n glared at Jason’s response. 

Minutes passed, silent only for the snaps of the camera. Quinn and Isley continued to unload the truck and by the way they were piling them in the front of the warehouse, Y/n guessed that they were either moving the boxes soon or the warehouse was already filled. It wasn’t long before Isley slammed the truck door shut and blew a kiss to her wife. Quinn waved dramatically as Isley started the truck, leaving Quinn behind to man the warehouse. 

“Are we good?” Y/n asked. “Did we get all the pictures? Can we return to civilization and its cleaning supplies?”

“The apartment isn't that bad,” Jason said. “And no, we have to wait to see what Quinn’s doing.” Y/n groaned loudly and flopped over on her beanbag. “I figured this would happen,” Jason began to dig around his bag. “So I came prepared.” He pulled out some paper and pens and threw them at Y/n. “Draw me a picture or write me a story.” 

Y/n frowned at him. “What do you think I am? Five?” Jason shot her a knowing look and she muttered, “yeah, okay. That’s a pretty good idea.” Y/n sat down on the ground, mumbling about blastomycosis and mold poisoning. Jason silently wondered how she knew so much about diseases. Sitting back on her beanbag, Y/n uncapped a pen and started drawing. Or writing. Jason wasn’t really sure. He was more preoccupied with the case. 

After fifteen minutes, (Jason had hoped it would distract her for longer,) Y/n proudly showed Jason her drawing. “I even wrote a story to go with it!” She presented another piece of paper, filled with her scribbly handwriting. 

“What’s it about?” Jason asked, eyes slowly turning away from the camera and towards Y/n. 

“It’s a tragic love story between a marshmallow and a cup of hot chocolate who can never be together because the hot chocolate would melt the marshmallow, but the marshmallow stayed with the hot chocolate, even though it was slowly dying, because it loved the hot chocolate.” Y/n taped her picture and story up on the wall.

“Shakespeare would be put to shame,” Jason said after a moment of processing. Y/n nodded along. “Romeo and Juliet, who?” 

Y/n gasped softly. “Oh my gosh, I think I love you.”

“I thought that was already established,” Cass’s voice came through the walkie talkie. 

Y/n quickly pressed the button. “You’re still there?” 

“L/n, this is an open police line.” Cass was rubbing her temples. “We need to be in constant contact with you.”

Jason snagged the walkie talkie away from Y/n and updated Cass. “Quinn’s still at the warehouse. L/n and I request to prolong our stay to keep tabs on her.” 

“Wait, we could still leave?!” 

“I’ll ask Wayne,” Cass said. “Stay sharp.” The line crackled and went silent. 

“Todd, why are we staying later than needed?” Y/n whined. “We could be back at the precinct right now.”

“Because this would be a big bust for us. If we shut down the Crime Queen’s operation, and maybe even catch one, that’d be a major operation off of the street.” He looked back at the detective. “Come on, Y/n. Think about it.” 

Y/n grumbled, but relented. “Fine.” She went back to scribbling on the paper, angrily huffing out profanities every now and then and asking Jason how to spell certain words. (“How the hell do you not know how to spell equipment?” “It’s a hard word!”)

“Cass, I’m transferring some pictures to you,” Jason spoke into the walkie talkie, sometime around ten fifteen at night. “I’m not seeing any activity right now, but I’ll keep you updated.”

“We’ll keep you updated,” Y/n corrected. “We’re a team, remember, Todd?” 

“You’re right,” Jason looked back at her. “I’m sorry. We’ll keep you updated.” He flipped off the walkie talkie and said, “if we’re a team, then do you want to take a turn at the camera?”

Y/n scrunched her nose. “Nah. I’ll just wait until you pass out from exhaustion to take my shift.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly. “Really helpful.” 

“I know.”

It was late the next morning and Y/n was sitting dutifully by the window, letting Jason snore on the beanbag. She had the movie Deadpool on in the background, occasionally quoting things alongside Wade Wilson. “A fourth wall break inside a fourth wall break! That’s like… sixteen walls,” she mumbled, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket she had stolen off of Jason. A loud honking lifted her from the edges of sleep and Y/n bolted upright, cursing. A sleek, black limo pulled in front of the warehouse and Y/n immediately radioed in to Cass. “Hey, Goose, we have a situation.” 

“What is it, Maverick?” Cass yawned, still following along with Y/n references.

“A black limo, licence plate…” Y/n took dozens of pictures. “PNGIN, just pulled into the lot. Sending evidence now.” She opened the precinct laptop Jason had packed and uploaded the photos. “I might need backup if an exchange is going down.” 

“Copy that,” Cass said. 

From the limo stepped a pudgy man in a three-piece suit with a large tophat. Y/n had to refrain herself from commenting on his appearance. “Jay, get up! Get up!” She kicked the beanbag chair and Jason awoke with a start, mumbling things about interrupting his sleep. “Oh my god, is that…” Y/n squinted through the camera lens, pressing the ‘talk’ button on the walkie talkie. “Cass! It’s Cobblepot! Cobblepot’s meeting up with Quinn!”

“-at?” It sounded like Cass said ‘what?’ but only clicked her button during the last half, surprise evident in her voice. “Lemme get Dick. And Wayne.” She added the Captain as if on second thought. 

After a tense minute where Y/n had to kick Jason again, Dick came on the radio. “L/n, report,” he commanded.

“Cobblepot’s meeting up with Quinn. I’ve sent the photos. I’m requesting a soft backup. Let me see what’s going on, but I want officers on hand. We could stop something big here, Sarge.”

“Copy that. You’ll get your officers. Where do you want them?”

“A half a block away,” she said. “And Dick? I need ‘em now. I don’t know what’s going on, but Quinn’s coming out to meet Cobblepot.”

Cass’s voice returned. “Y/n, Dick’s going to lead the officers himself. His ETA should be about ten minutes. Sit tight.”

“Will do, as soon as Todd WAKES UP!” Y/n kicked Jason in the shin, earning a loud “ow!”

“I’m up!” Jason shot up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What?”

“Fucking Cobblepot! You’re about to sleep through our bust! Bitch,” she clicked her tongue, ”wake up!”

“Cobblepot?” Jason said blearily. He raced the window, squinting down at the scene below. “Holy…”

“I know!” Y/n punched Jason on the shoulder excitedly. He flinched away from her, acting as if it had hurt. 

Y/n snapped pictures as Jason took over the computer, typing a report. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Cass said, “Backup’s here, just in case.”

“Thanks, Cain,” Jason said, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Quinn’s taking Cobblepot into the warehouse,” Y/n reported. “But I can’t see… do we have any footage of the interior?” 

“Would we be here if we had access inside?” Jason groaned. 

“Now I see why people avoid you in the morning,” Y/n grumbled back, shooting Jason a warning glare. She shoved a cereal box towards the man and Jason angrily shoved some food into his mouth. “Now you won’t be so fucking cranky,” she muttered.

“Stop fighting!” Cass demanded, “what do you see?”

“Nothing! Other than Cobblepot’s men standing ominously by his limo.” Y/n asked, “how come we don’t have limos? That would be so much cooler.”

Cobblepot stepped out of the warehouse, Quinn trailing behind him. He gestured to his men and a couple of them started loading boxes into the trunk of the limo. “We’ve got movement!” Y/n shouted into the walkie talkie. “If we’re going to arrest them, it’s gotta be now! We won’t get Isley, and she’ll probably break Quinn out of prison, but at least we’ll get Cobblepot.” 

“You’re just soft for your crime moms,” Jason exhaled sharply. 

Dick’s voice was hardly understandable through the radio, but Y/n and Jason watched from the window as Dick and his team surrounded Quinn and Cobblepot and his men. “I feel like we should help,” Jason mumbled.

“Do you have a zipline?” Y/n asked out of the blue.

“No… why?” Jason seemed hesitant to answer, concerned about the answer. 

“Dang it,” Y/n shook her head. “It would’ve been easy for us to join the fight if we could just zipline down there. It’d look so cool, too!” She mimed shooting down a zipline and fighting all the bad guys off. Jason chuckled. 

Dick eventually managed to apprehend Cobblepot and Quinn, the latter who threw a wink right to the window where Y/n and Jason sat. Y/n gasped and threw open the window, sticking her head out. “Hi!” she shouted down to the apprehended criminals. “Oh my gosh, you’re Harley Quinn! I’m a huge fan!”

“Hey!” Harley Quinn waved back before Dick handcuffed her. “Aren’t you just a sweetie pie?! Were you the one spying on us since Tuesday?” Her thick Brooklyn accent shouted up to the detectives.

“Yeah! That was me!” Y/n grinned. “I love you and your wife! Can you adopt me?”

“Oh, honey, we would love to!” Harley called. “But unfortunately, I may be going to jail.” She pouted sadly and then grinned hopefully. “Think you can do anything about that, sugar?”

Y/n frowned and said, “unfortunately, no I can’t, adopted mom. But, I can promise to turn the other cheek when my other adopted mom breaks you out.”

“Deal!” Harley winked again and said, “send me the adoption papers and I’ll sign anything.”

“I love you!” Y/n shouted as Dick shoved Quinn into the back of his police car, rolling his eyes. 

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Jason joined Y/n leaning on the windowsill, gazing over at her. 

“Nope.”

[phoniexrose02]

Freak in the Sheets

Miguel Diaz x Black!Reader

Smutt🌹🔥

Miguel had a Pretty Innocent Looking face, To the Way He Spoke, to the Beautiful Smile he often Showed. No one would Expect him to be a Horny Fuck, Expect you. You could See the way his Eyes Focused on you in anything that Made your Curves show. But he Somehow Still Kept that Innocent Smiling when Talking, Only to come Home a Rearrange your Guts.

"Oh God Miguel~" he plummeted his Dick Balls Deep While Pulling you Back in Doggy, it was One of his Favorite Positions. Simple.

Your Bent over your Shared Kitchen As he Gave Brutal Back shots, You Move against Him as he Thrust Deeper into your Walls." Cum for me Baby, They'll Be here any minute!" Of course he Couldn't Wait to Fuck you After Company was Gone. So why Not Squeeze it in Now~

The way your Walls Squeezed Made him Moan like a Pornstar as he Plowed you Harder, He only Fueled the fire as he Reaches down to Rub your Clit." Fuck I'm Close! Faster Faster!~" he Obeyed your Wishes Only to Be Stopped By a Knock on the Door.

He Groaned and Pulled out of you Making you Whimper, As you attempted to pull up your Panties You were Quickly Shoved back onto the counter. "Miguel wha-Mm!~" He Shoved a Small Vibrator into your aching Cunt, you Shivered as he Pulled up your Panties."Be Good an we’ll Finish Later ok?~" He Whispered planting a Soft kiss to your Neck Before leaving to open the Door.

The Night Went On, Well Dragged On. Your New house was now Filled with people who wanted to Talk. Miguel had no Mercy Playing with the Vibrator, He was trying to Break you.

You sat in the Kitchen Fleeing the Group for a Break, only to be Met With a Quiet Roaming Robby. As you Spoke to him, you could Feel the Vibrator slowly Climb to it's Highest Settings. You Shivered Clamping your Thighs Tight in an attempt to ease the intense Pleasure."Please Excuse me Robby" you Quickly Make a Be-Line to the Bathroom, Only to have Miguel Block your Way. “Don' Touch It." You Huff Crossing your Arms.

"Miggy your Just torturing me at this Point"

"I give you good Dick everyday” he Wraps his arms around you Waist pulling you close.”Mamí & Papí can fuck around for one Night, Right?~” You huffed as he pulled you in an you Yelp as he placed wet kisses on your Neck.” Tell ya what..I’ll be easy The Rest of the Night you Cling to His Arm. He looked so Innocent Talking to his Friends, Every now and then he'd play with the Setting to Watch you Wiggle. It was a Relief When People started to Head Home, The Less People, the More Touchy he Got.

You told your Last Guest Goodbye and Close your Front Door. It wasn't Long Before he was Pushing You Up against it, Running his Fingers down to your Soaked Pussy." Mi reina~ You've Ruined your Panties, Let me Clean you Up" He Turned you to Face him and Slowly Lowered himself to his Knees. You Pull up your Dress Happily as he Pulls down your Panties, He smiled and kissed your Dripping Cunt. You Shivered as he Licked and Slurped at your Cunt, Purposely leaving your Twitching Hole Untouched. When you attempted to Move into him for More Pleasure he Quickly Stands up, and Shoves his Tongue into your Mouth Making your Taste yourself. As you Melt into the Kiss he pulls Away Once again, his Sly Smirk Only Pissed you off Further. "All Clean."

"What, Miguel are you fucking serious-" Miguel Quickly picked you up and Threw you over his shoulder."Wait Where are we going?? Please Fuck me Here" He only Shook his Head and gave your Ass a Slap."We're Gonna Need the Bed Cause I'm Not stopping Until your Full Mamí" Your Cheeks Heated at his Words and you Giggled Letting him Haul to your Shared Room."You Gonna Breed Me Papí?~" He threw you onto the Bed and Began to Undress Himself, You watched his Beautiful Dick Spring from his Briefs.

He Grabs your Ankle and Pulls you To the Edge of the bed."Please Fuck me Miguel, I want it so Fucking bad~"

He Spreads your Legs Wide enough to Slide in Between them. He Held your Lips Apart Getting a Good Look at your Wet Pulsing Cunt, He Slowly Shoved his Fingers inside Making you Moan quietly."Can't Forget about our Little Friend~" He pulls the Small Vibrating Bullet from your Cunt and Quickly Shoved himself inside. You Moaned Gripping the Sheets underneath you. He let out a relieved sigh simply Tossing the Toy to the side. You wrap your Legs around his Waist, your Pussy Wet and Squeezing. He started his Rough Thrust into your Pussy Making you Wail in Pleasure, He Loved to Hear how Good he Made you Feel. So he Pounded Harder into you Resting his Chest against yours, Moaning in your Ear as your Walls Suffocate his Dick."Fuck Mamí, you really want my Nut Huh?~" He Giggled Into your Ear continuing his Brutal Thrust into your Cunt, You Pulled at his Hair Earning a Pleased Groan."You want My Kittens Amor?~" he Groaned into your Neck as you Tighten Around him."Please Papí!~"

His Grip on your Hips only Tightened as he Began to Fuck you Faster."Fuck I'm Gonna Cum" You Pulled at his Hair Facing Him to you Earning a Hiss, You Kissed Him Moaning into Each Others Mouth as You Came. You Pulled him In Deep as he Flooded your Walls, He Shivered and Twitched as Your Pussy Sucked Him Dry.

The two of you Pull away Leaving a String of Saliva, Panting like Thirst Dogs. He Straightened himself up and Pulled you legs Apart as he Slowly Pulled himself out, He Smirked Watching his Cum Leak from Your Still Twitching Hole."You did so Good Mi Amor~" You Smile and Wrap Your Arms around His Neck."Round 2 Daddy?~"

"Hell Yeah Mama's~"

Cobra Kai🐍

[indelicateink]

(x)

@iamrebeccasblog HE DOES. or rather, he mentioned his reading list to the press lol, i got excited: Heroin Diaries, Nikki Sixx Mötley Crüe's The Dirt The First 21: How I Became Nikki Sixx Black Metal Rainbows The Art of Darkness: The History of Goth Set the Night on Fire: L.A. in the Sixties ETA correction: Set the Night on Fire by by Robbie Krieger -- hat tip to @la-femme-au-collier-vert Bonus, to watch or rewatch: Hedwig and the Angry Inch; Rocky Horror Picture Show

SUMMER READING LIST!

(in the past the writers used to be on twitter and mentioned books they were reading/references they were influenced by) ETA: @la-femme-au-collier-vert assembled this kickass list of s1 references last year

[la-femme-au-collier-vert]

IWTV Season Three Influences & References (so far) 😉

The First 21: How I Became Nikki Sixx by Nikki Sixx

Black Metal Rainbows edited by Daniel Lukes & Stanimir Panayotov

The Heroin Diaries by Nikki Sixx

The Art of Darkness: The History of Goth by John Robb

Set the Night on Fire by Robbie Kreiger

The Dirt: True Confessions of the World’s Most Notorious Rock Band by Tommy Lee, Mick Mars, Vince Neil and Nikki Sixx

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)

Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2001)

Mentioned at the SDCC24 panel by Rolin Jones and Daniel Hart:

David Bowie (particularly mid 70s/ Ziggy Stardust)

Mick Jagger of The Rolling Stones

Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin

Jim Morrison of the Doors

John Cale of the Velvet Underground

Freddie Mercury of Queen

Nick Cave of the Bad Seeds

David Lee Roth of Van Halen

Nicki Sixx of Motley Crue

Iggy Pop

Prince

Otis Redding

Mark Sandman

Ryan Kattner

Chappell Roan

Brandon Flowers of The Killers

Bjork

Fiona Apple

Daniel Hart 

T-Rex

Beastie Boys

The White Stripes

Redd Kross

Tim Rose

Serge Gainsbourg

Electric Light Orchestra

Sweet

Florence Welsh

Saint Vincent

Raleigh Ritchie

Benjamin Clementine

Moses Sumney

Douglas Dare

Jeff Magnum

Paul Westerberg of the Replacements

Franz Liszt

Shostakovich

Gustave Mahler

Lang Lang

Martha Argerich

Gustavo Dudamel

Maurice Ravel cited by Daniel Hart on X

Nirvana cited by Daniel Hart during Reddit AMA

Season 2 here

Season 1 here

[toobusyshrimping]

😺🛏️💌⛓️ for Tommy, Neil, and Robert

Link to asks sorry this took so long! Wanted to give it my best and work has been crazy

Tommy:

😺 how they eat the pussy:

Eats it like he'd love to drown in you. Makes out with it a little. If Tommy is in the mood, he'll eat you out until he's all but falling asleep with his mouth on you. Likes to have his shoulders under your thighs with his hands gripping your hips. He eats you out when he wants softness, wants to forget everything; loses himself in the taste of you, your gentle hands in his hair, the hitching of your breath.

🛏️ soft sex headcanon

Tommy doesn't know how to ask for kindness. It grates like sandpaper on a wound. You have to be the one to initiate it. Lamps/lights low and fire banked. Undress him in the dim light, fingers skimming his bared skin. Hush him if he tries to talk. Lay him down and wrap yourself around him, gently cup the back of his head when and ignore the dampness of his cheeks when his face presses into your neck. You're his anchor.

💌 sending/receiving nudes headcanon

I'm using modern Tommy for this answer, the rest are for him period.

Sending: doesn't. He'd text you that hes thinking about something you've done together or something he wants to do. "I want you as soon as you're home." "Are you thinking about last night? Can you still feel me, Love?"

Receiving: He checks his phone when he has time alone, no one needs to peek at who he's speaking to/what about. You're his girl. Responds in the same way he texts you. If you're naked in the photos he expects you to be nude when he gets home.

⛓️ kinky headcanon: we know the obvious one (choking). Likes to be slapped by his wife every now and then, have her grip his chin and force him to look at her. Accidentally finds out he has an oral fixation. You'd fucked his mouth with your fingers once just to see what happened and he came without being touched.

Neil:

😺 how they eat the pussy

Neil wants you to sit on his face and be directed verbally or with your hand in his hair. He wants to be surrounded by you. He wants you bossy.

🛏️ soft sex headcanon

Neil's a true lover boy. Sleepy lights-peeking-through-the-blinds morning sex. Most of the time you're the one initiating, grinding back on his morning wood until he's awake enough to slip inside. If he's the big spoon he's got a hand shoved up your shirt cupping a tit. If you're jetpacking kissing the back of his neck and sliding a hand into his pj pants is a sweet treat for him.

💌 sending/receiving nudes headcanon

(Few years post-canon because that boy deserves better quality nudes)

Sending: Since he's been established as someone who wouldn't take advantage of someone (the bare minimum) he wouldn't send unsolicited nudes. I think he'd want to send dick pics comparing his size to random things because you'd find it funny. I say this as someone who's seen a dick pic where it's compared to an x-box controller.

Receiving: Neil has to go into the bathroom or his office to immediately jerk off. Jeans barely pulled down and biting the palm of the hand not fisting his cock to keep quiet.

⛓️ kinky headcanon:

Loves to roleplay losing his virginity. Wants you to "teach him" what feels good, where to kiss, what to say, how to make you cum. Neil could roleplay his "first" with you forever and it'd never get old.

Robert:

😺 how they eat the pussy:

Kneeling for you. His favorite is when you sit on the couch with pillows behind you (he's sweet and doesn't want your back to hurt) and scoot towards the edge. He'll put/keep his hands wherever you want them. Everything he does is to please you.

🛏️ soft sex headcanon:

Robbie's favorite position is his partner straddling his lap with both of you sitting up. His back against the couch/headboard with you pressed up against his chest. Lots of eye contact, noses brushing, hands cupping his jaw/in his hair/arms around his neck. No position beats getting to see the minute shifts of your expression, sharing breath, feeling you smile as you press closer like you want to crawl into his body.

💌 sending/receiving nudes headcanon:

Robbie would only send them if he was explicitly asked. I headcanon that he's embarrassed even jerking off due to going to boarding school and living in a house full of maids/his nanny/the revolving door of his father's business associates. If he had established with his partner it's something they like he'd ask if he could send one in case they're in public. He keeps his face out of them and has to be encouraged to expose more than him barechested in boxers.

Robbie would be embarrassed about how much he likes receiving a nude from his partner. Home alone? Still pink cheeked and looking around as if someone was there to see him enjoying them. Thanks his partner and semi shamefully jerks off to them; like I mentioned above I think he has complicated feelings about enjoying things sexually.

⛓️ kinky headcanon:

I have something I'm in the process of writing (and it's a goal to write it and post it this year!) a professional Dom/service submissive Robbie story.

Dynamic wise - I think Robbie craves giving up control; he wants to be taken care of and devote his life to taking care of his partner. He hates being in charge, he hates the idea of running the company and he would love to be a homemaker.

Kink wise - Tie between impact play and praise. Robbie loves a firm hand (literally and figuratively) and has daily maintenance spankings. He prefers the intimacy of being laid over a lap and spanked bare handed. However, he also likes thuddy floggers or an occasional paddling. Robbie loves to be praised but wants to earn it. Being called a good/sweet boy has him warm all over. Being praised for making a good meal for his partner or told he took his spanking so well makes his day.

[cellophaine]

Chapter III: RALLY

Masterlist

Pairing: Art Donaldson x F!Reader

Warnings: More flirting if you can believe it.

Author's Note: I did not run this through Grammarly so hopefully it's still digestible.

GIF Source: @/roranicuspond

The music, the chatter, the shouts of excitement reverberated throughout the big house and became a concentrated fusion of noise in your ears. You took another sip of the spiked fruit punch and grimaced at the taste. It burned all the way down, but the buzz it provided was pleasant. You watched all these strangers mingling about, chatting and dancing and playing games you weren’t privy to, no one paid attention to you. After several failed attempts at striking and maintaining a conversation, you retreated to the corner of the kitchen after escaping the common area. The array of food and drinks was within reach, and from here, you could people watch.

Midterms came with the guarantee of long hours into the nights, and went with the promise of celebration. Ashley, your roommate, was more than eager to deliver on that promise, and also the reason why you came to the party. Your other roommate, Grace, went out with her book club, leaving you the only chaperone, and confidence boost Ashley needed to talk to her crush. It took an egregious amount of convincing from Ashley for you to finally agreed. You needed to get out more, Ashley said on the way to the party, you worked so hard for midterms and it showed in the results. Your wandering mind thought of Art, a minor diversion in your study these days. You hadn’t seen him since the day he treated you to lunch, and never approached him for the few times you saw him on campus. Most of the time, he had a bag of racquet on his shoulder. You wondered if he noticed you, and if he also contemplated whether to say hi to you. You were grateful either way, since you had no doubt he would become a great distraction that you couldn’t afford.

More people poured into the kitchen, so you took that opportunity to fill your cup with a ladle of the same fruit punch, and slipped outside through the back door. The yard was big, with high wooden fence wrapped around the property. There was a pool to your left, and an open grass field with a bonfire blazing. Most people hung around the pool, so you made a beeline for the fire. You shivered as a cold breeze brushed over the skin on your exposed arms. You chose the small wooden bench after asking the few people who were already there if you could take a seat. The flame, alongside the alcohol, warmed you up from the inside out. You grimaced at a small sip, the taste of the punch somehow became more foul than the last. Bracing yourself, you took another, hoping the pleasant buzz would amp up, and wishing the time would past even quicker.

“If this isn’t the girl I’ve been looking for.”

You thought your hearing was mistaken, but it was him. You turned your head, and there Art was, standing two feet away, looking at you with a bottle of Sprite in his hand. He was wearing a Stanford hoodie and shorts, the golden waves of his hair were tousled softly in the gentle wind. You couldn’t help the complacency in your voice.

“You’ve been looking for me?”

“All the time. Ever since when I last saw you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You’re such a stalker.”

“No. Just an admirer.”

You took another moment to appreciate the sight of him in front of you, before scooting to the other side of the bench as much as you could. You patted the empty space you’d just left, and Art immediately accepted your invitation. His knee knocking against yours as he sat down. Your thighs grazed when he settled, and you felt your cheeks warm at the contact.

“How are you?”

“So what brought you–?”

You talked at the same time, and then broke into a nervous chuckle together. Art jerked his chin at you.

“You go first.”

“Okay. Well, my roommate brought me here.”

“Where is she now?”

“She’s with her crush. I’m here because she didn’t want to go alone. You?”

“Robbie invited me. He’s my hitting partner this semester. He knows some guy who lives here.”

You hummed noncommittally. You cleared your throat after a mouthful of your drink when Art asked.

“How did your midterm go?”

“It went … very well. You?”

“Uhh, maybe less well than you.”

“If you study as much as you train then I have no doubt that you did great.”

You said it without much thought. Art looked at you with a new interest.

“How did you know that?”

Your brows knitted in confusion.

“Know what?”

“That I train. Quite often.”

You stumbled over your words as you thought of an answer.

“Well, it was … I just … I’ve seen you on campus a few times, and you always have a racquet bag with you. In the few times that I saw you. In case that wasn’t clear.”

Art leaned back as if to take you in fully. The way he cocked an eyebrow coupled with the playful smile on his lips screamed mischief.

“So you’ve been stalking me.”

“Absolutely not.”

Your denial was immediate. You diverted your gaze to the fire and took a long sip from your cup to hide the embarrassment tinged in your features.

“You know, if you want to hang out more with me …”

Art leaned in, and you couldn’t resist the pull from his gaze. A light citrus scent stirred at your sense of smell, and it was soothing.

“ … all you have to do is to give me your phone number. You know, to make it easier for both of us.”

You pretended to think about his proposition, sucking air through your teeth.

“I don’t know. You haven’t proved yourself to be anything but a distraction.”

“Me? A distraction?”

“Yup. As a straight A student like myself, I can’t afford distraction.”

Perhaps it was the alcohol, or the fact that it was your clumsy attempt at flirting wth Art, but you felt bolder, your lips more loose. He moved in even closer, invading your space, and you could see the flutter of his long lashes that framed his widened eyes. Everything about him made you feel like you were in a big trouble.

“Oh my god. You’re obsessed with me.”

“No, I’m so not.”

“Yes, you are. You must think about me all the time.”

Your cheeks burned and you were certain it wasn’t due to the alcohol. You felt like you were caught with a crime you were guilty of committing. Art had been more than just a passing thought. He was a frequent recurrence in your mind. You stammered for a defensive stance.

“What about you? If anything, you’re the one who’s obsessed. You’ve been asking me for my number every time we see each other.”

“Right. You can deny it all you want, but I can see it clear as day.”

“I’m not denying anything. I’m just … telling you that I don’t … think about you.”

His brows raised as if he didn’t believe you.

“Not that … often, anyway.”

He grinned, satisfied with your answer. You put a hand over your eyes.

“Can we … move past this, please?”

Art chuckled and leaned away with his hands held up, satisfied like a purring cat after a big meal. He watched as you took a swig of your empty drink.

“Do you want a refill?”

“Yeah. Not the same thing though. I’ve had enough of gasoline juice.”

His chuckle was light, rising above everything else around you even though you weren’t alone.

“I can find something decent for you.”

You moved to go with him, but Art held out a hand.

“You stay here. I’ll get it for you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

You watched as he disappeared into the crowded house. You caught the smile that crept onto your face, and for once, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment. The waning crescent was an imposing presence amongst the stars in the clear sky. The fire was warm, and so was the feeling you harboured inside. You were glad that you stuck around and saw Art again, the one person who had occupied your mind more often than you’d like to admit. The easy banter and flirtatious remarks were only bonuses to what he was to you. A person who seemed to like you for who you were, and not for what you could do for him. He had been nothing but nice to you, reducing your well-constructed wall to a feeble fence that parted in half whenever he came around.

Goosebumps spread all over your skin as a gust of wind swooped by. You rubbed your arms to alleviate the cold and drew into yourself. And then you heard it, his name in a cheerful voice. Your head turned to the source as if the call was for you. Art had already walked to her with a drink and a paper bag in hands. You watched as they conversed. She was gorgeous, her light golden brown skin glowed even in the low light. She was slim and tall, almost matched Art’s height. From this distance, you couldn’t hear them, but you could see the way they laughed at something she said, their heads bowed towards each other in the movement. You felt like you were an intruder in their conversation, even though you were only watching. She touched his arm and left, leaving Art looking after her as she disappeared into the house. Something stirred in the back of your mind, but you quickly dismissed it before it even took form. You whipped your head back to the fire, pretending that you’d been looking at it as Art turned around and made his way over to you. Art held out the cup and you accepted it with a word of appreciation. He settled in next to you for the second time that night, and your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

“Did you miss me while I was gone?”

“You wish.”

He chuckled, and looked at the way you held yourself.

“Are you cold?”

“A little bit. But it’s fine. The fire is keeping me warm.”

An involuntary shiver broke through your body.

“You’re not a very good liar, you know that?”

Art stood up and took off his hoodie. The movement tugged the white t shirt he wore underneath upward, and you could catch a glimpse of his leaned lower torso, the faint V line leading into the band of his underwear. You quickly averted your eyes to meet his own under the messy blond locks, your cheeks burned at the quick glance.

“No, Art, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

He held out the hoodie.

“Just take it.”

It looked like he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you took it and put it on. The sleeves covered your hands and more, the body fabric pooled around your midsection. His warmth settled over you like an embrace, igniting the excitement that brewed underneath your skin. You relaxed into the scent and the comfort of him, and sighed softly.

“All better?”

He put his arms around you, making rapid up and down motions to create friction and warming you up. Your heart jumped at the contact even though there was a layer between his hands and your skin.

“This is really nice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He let you go and held up the brown paper bag he left at his feet.

“Do you want some s’mores?”

/

“Wow. I’ve never seen someone who’s this bad at making s’mores.”

Art commented after your third burned marshmallow while you frantically blew on it to put out the fire. The charred remain sagged sadly on the stick. You frowned.

“It’s still … edible.”

“Edible? It looks like a lump of coal.”

You bowed your head, defeated.

“Here.”

Art put a perfectly toasted marshmallow on a graham cracker for you.

“Take it. And please, it’s just a s’more.”

You accepted the treat, and bit into it. The gooey sweetness enveloped your tongue, and you hummed in approval. You watched as Art discarded your burned sweet into the fire.

“How are you so bad at this?”

“Well, my parents aren’t exactly the outdoor type.”

“Lucky for you, you have a master at work here.”

He taught you to put the marshmallow near the ember, not directly in the flame. Eventually, you made one without burning it to crisp. Art cheered as you showed in your stellar achievement in between the graham crackers. Your heart hammered as he leaned in and took a bite from out of your hand. He closed his eyes, a moan sounded deep in his throat.

“The sweet victory of my teaching.”

A marshmallow string dripped over his bottom lip. Your eyes glued to his movement as he swiped it off, brought the thumb to his mouth and licked it. But there was still some left on the curve of his lip. Out of instinct, your hand reached for the spot he missed and wiped it off with careful tenderness. Art held still, and his breathing seemed to follow. He gazed at you with an impossible softness in his eyes, and you felt a new fervour of heat warming your face. Neither of you said anything, nor dared to breathe too loudly. Your hand lingered on his face, and you felt an urge to run it over his jawline, to pull him close, eager to taste the sweetness of the treat from his lips.

A loud whoop shrilled in your ears, followed by the sound of water being splashed. Pulled away from the moment, you drew your hand back and cleared your throat.

“I think I’ve mastered it now.”

/

The night ended with Art walking you home. Before you left party, you found Ashley and made sure she was okay. She beamed ear to ear and told you she’d spend some more time here. You asked her to be careful and to text you if she needed anything. You parted ways, finding Art waiting for you outside on the green lawn. The walk to your apartment building was long, but the two of you filled the distance with things like classes and what you’d been up to since you last saw each other. Art told you about his upcoming match and what he’d done to prepare for it. You expressed interest in seeing him play, and Art perked up at that like a little puppy.

“I’ll let you know when the date is announced.”

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of the gate to your building.

“This is me.”

“Are you sure it’s not for another block?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. You observed him for moment, tracing the soft edge of his eyes, the way his lips flattened against themselves, shaping into a faint, endearing smile. You held out your hand.

“Give me your phone.”

“For what?”

You arched an eye brow. It took him three seconds to arrive at the same thought you had. He scrambled to take his phone out, almost dropping it to the ground. You put your number in along with your name and saved it.

“Here you go. You can move on to something else now.”

“Never.”

Art returned his phone to his pants’ pocket. A need struck you, something you’d wanted to do since he sat down next to you earlier in the night. The urge was overwhelming, your heart hammered in your chest, your skin itched to make it happen. But you didn’t want to overthink anymore. Brushing asides all cautions, you stepped closer so that you could grasp his shoulder and rose on your tiptoes. Your lips softly brushed his cheek, lingering there for a moment before pulling away. You watched as a blush quickly spread all over his neck and ears, tinting his cheeks a faint pink.

“Good night, Art.”

You entered through the waist high iron gate, and walked the distance before hearing Art saying good night. You turned around and waved at him. He held up a hand and reciprocated. Once you made it to your room, you fell onto your bed and sighed. You felt light and happy, already recounting everything that happened tonight in your head. You put a hand on your hammering heart, and only then, you realized that you were still in his hoodie. You pulled the collar up to your nose and inhaled the comforting scent of him. You smiled. It would be yours for now.

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[mamsieur]

Evil Twin | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Floyd!Reader

Summary : Who would have guessed that sweet and discreet Bob had a twin sister who was his opposite ? Not the Dagger Squad, that's for sure.

TW : mention of past abuse, mention of abusive relationship, mention of alcohol, mention of sex, angst and fluff, angst with happy ending

Length : 6980 words

AN : Bob is the sweetest and I'm sure he's an overprotective brother.

posted on AO3 July 22, 2023

You were the quintessential of the pop-rock star.  You had a lot of problems with the press, both concerning your love life and the setbacks of your ex-band.

The first problem was that you were often seen leaving hotels with different partners : the press loved that you didn't settle down and always made a big deal out of it. You didn't really care, you knew the tabloids always twisted the truth just to sell more garbage. What bothered you was that your mom kept calling you about it, wondering why you couldn't be discreet and serious, have a normal job like your twin; the perfect little Robby, pride and joy of the family. He was in the navy, serving the country, and your father liked to remind you that Robert was doing something useful, something great. Yet, you didn't care what the public and your family thought of you. You just wanted to play your songs, have fun on stage and in the studio. It was your cop-out after some traumatic experiences you went through in high school.

As for your problems with the band, it was a different kettle of fish. 

You were the lead vocalist and guitarist. You loved being on stage, it made you feel powerful, in control. You were backed by three talented but lazy guys about your age. It was your agent's idea to put you in charge of them. And what a great idea. At first it was fun, you had a good time. But as time went by, their excesses slowed down your rise in the charts. And they wasted all their time, energy and money on the wrong things. Every day, the press had a scoop about them doing something illegal or immoral. The last one on their list was being seen exiting a bar with underage fans.

Those recent events forced your label to give you a choice; either the whole group was fired or you could continue as a solo artist; your producer and staff knew that you weren't really a troublemaker, so it was a once in a lifetime opportunity for you.  You didn't even hesitate to sign your new contract ; and that led to a new scandal in the press, creating false drama between you and your ex mates. But as much as you were determined to make a name for yourself, you also needed a break from all the “scandal” that was going on. You made a deal with your producer and new agent: you had one month to come up with at least two singles, while you could go anywhere you wanted to find inspiration and relax.

And what could be more relaxing than the seaside ? The beach, the sun, the salty air, the feeling of being in an eternal summer ? It was perfect. You booked your flight to San Diego and rented a small beach house on Airbnb.  What could possibly go wrong? 

Well, maybe running into your twin brother at the local bar.

The Hard Deck seemed like a pretty chill place and the owner, Penny, was really nice. You spent some evenings there, trying to come up with some lyrics over a Coke.  She was curious and you were happy to share what you were working on, even though you hadn't made any progress. She had that reassuring aura, and talking with her was like talking to an old friend that you knew all your life. She was genuinely interested in what you had to share, and gave you some advice when she could. She also was curious to hear your voice and tried a few times to get you at the piano. You refused politely each time, feeling strangely shy.

It took you a week and a half to work up the courage to go to that piano.

The bar was rather empty, which was unusual for a Saturday night but made it easier for you to convince yourself that it was okay. You discreetly started to warm up your voice and started a version of Your Song - Penny confessed to you it was one of her favorite songs.

In a corner of the bar, by the pool table, a group of pilots were surprised to hear the piano playing at this hour. "Looks like someone stole your seat, Bradshaw," a tall blond man sneered.  "Looks like it, Seresin." Bradley raised an eyebrow and leaned over to see who had taken his place at the piano. The others gently urged him to join them; after all, he was the musician among the squad. He pretended to be annoyed by their request and joined you for the last chorus.  You were surprised, but smiled quietly and finished your "performance" with him. You made room for him on the little bench, and with a look of approval, you moved on to another song of his choice: Ain't no mountain higher .  The patrons of the bar, who had become more numerous, were delighted to have a private mini-concert. Some of them started to dance, others joined in singing. It was a fun experience.

After the end of the song, you smiled and shook the hand of your partner of a moment and let him enjoy the piano by himself. You made your way back to your stool and asked Penny for a glass of water. You felt a presence next to you and turned a little to see who was there. You easily guessed it was a navy man ; the uniform - talk about obvious -, the perfectly styled hair. You grinned at the tall blond man in front of you.

“So, does that pretty voice have a name ?” asked Jake with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at his flirtatious tone and his pushed Texan accent.  “Well yes actually, I’m-” “Y/N ?” You frowned, immediately recognizing the voice that had spoken your name. You easily spotted his surprised face among the other navy people that were close to you and Jake. "Robert?" "Don't tell me you're his girlfriend..." "What? No!" you shouted at the same time, making a few of the others giggle. "Gross!" you pretended to vomit. "She's my sister, Hangman," Bob sighed. "Twin sister, to be exact," you precised.

You couldn't help but giggle at the shocked looks on the faces of who you assumed were his colleagues. He was suddenly flooded with questions, and you enjoyed watching him turn redder and redder. Then they focused on you. "You two don't look alike at all," Reuben said, scanning you in detail. You rolled your eyes and smiled, leaning against your brother as you poked his side. "Robert took the height and brains, I took the charm and talent." 

Your brother sighed and ran his hand over his neck, slightly embarrassed. His teammates were happy to meet you, especially happy to annoy Bob, and Natasha seemed to realize something. "Your voice sounds familiar... I've heard it somewhere before... in a band, right?" " Nemesis ," you smiled and nodded, mentioning your old band, "but I'm solo now. Kept the stage name though." "Quite a few scandals with that band..." your twin mumbled.  You decided not to pay attention to him. Like your parents, Robert had never understood your career choice, arguing that you were brilliant at school and could have done anything else. Of course you were pretty intelligent but you had fallen in love with music as an outlet for your pain. But your family didn’t seem to accept your way of coping with your traumas.

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. You got to know your brother's second family. They all had their own personalities, but that's what made them so endearing. Jake invited you to join them the next day, since it was their day off and they wanted to relax at the beach. You gladly accepted.

Robert didn't say much to you, the atmosphere between you was cold and tense. Natasha noticed it, so she joined her WSO to chat. "What's wrong, Bob? Your sister seems nice and yet you're here, not saying anything to her." He sighed a little as he watched you chatting and having fun with the others. "I'm worried about her," he confessed, "she… she hides herself in that personna… that Nemesis …” “Aren't all artists ? I mean, they wouldn't take a stage name otherwise.” “I guess… but I’m scared she’s losing herself…” he said softly, glancing at you. He grumbled when he noticed that Jake was flirting with you; and you didn't seem to refuse his advances either. Natasha let out a soft “damn” when Jake slid his arm around you and Bob almost jumped off his seat, mumbling an irritated “that’s it”. 

You felt a strong hand gripping your wrist and you were drawn out of Jake’s embrace and out the bar. “The hell Robby ?” you scoffed once outside, “I was in the middle of a conversation !” “No you weren’t, you were flirting ! With one of my teammates !” “First off, he initiated it ! And second, in what world is that your business ? We’re grown ups, I can handle some flirting !” “Well, first off , you’re my sister and second , Hangman is… he’s not the type to settle down !” he tried to explain himself but you just rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, you sound just like dad ! Why should I settle down ? I’m having fun, I’m happy that way !” You pinched the bridge of your nose, annoyed. “Stop trying to father me, I’m doing fine since I left !” “Yeah, you seem real good in the local news,” he mumbles, putting his hands in his pockets. He didn't even look at you as he said those words. You hated it when he did that, always half-assing his thoughts. You couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh, tilting your head back.  “And now you sound like mom. I can handle my life just fine Robert. I don’t need your concern, let alone your judgment ! I’ve never been better, ok ? Leave me the fuck alone !”

You were lying. You both knew that. He could read into you so easily, it made you sick. Call it ‘twin magic’ or ‘sibling intuition’, you still hated the way his blue eyes looked at you with worry and questions in them, knowing all too well that you were not fine. 

You passed him, going back to the bar to get your stuff and pay Penny. Out of spit - and mostly because you wanted to - you handed your number to Jake and left with a smirk. You could hear the squad gently hassle Hangman who proudly showed off the piece of paper you gave him. 

A little fun won’t kill you, would it ?

The next day, you joined the Dagger squad on the beach, near the Hard Deck. 

They were playing a strange football game ; dogfight football , attack and defense at the same time, Natasha explained to you.  You watched their first round and second, it seemed fun. At least, Bob seemed to have fun. You remembered he was not a teamsport guy younger. He actually hated the fact that your dad made him go to the tryouts for the football team in high school. To his misfortune, he got in. You smiled and sighed remembering those days.  Sometimes, you missed the time you were close to your twin, when you could tell him everything, before it all fell apart in junior year. A cold shiver ran down your spine while you thought back about it. Your life changed so much at that time, you didn’t like to remember it.

Crouching in front of you, Jake snapped you out of your reverie. “Hey there darlin, care to join us ? We’ll be gentle, promise.” he said with a playful grin. You arched an eyebrow and sneered. “Oh please, don’t be, I can handle it.” He laughed and helped you up. You were put in his team against Natasha, Bob, Bradley and Reuben. You were - to your own surprise - pretty fast and efficient. Javy and Jake joked around saying that being stealth had to be running in the family. 

You really had fun, even laughing with your brother. You didn’t know who won but you scored the last point of the game, and Jake put you on his shoulders to celebrate before tossing you in the water. “You’re a dead man, Seresin !” you shouted, before laughing. Robert helped you out the water and gave you a towel without a word. You silently thanked him and you all took a water break while deciding what to eat.

Reuben and Mickey volunteered to go get the pizzas and while they did, Natasha proposed a volleyball match. She decided that Bob and you would be in her team and you smiled. Bob couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle ; the two of you loved that sport when you were kids. When you went to your grandma's house for the holidays, you used to play against your cousins. Of course, you kicked their ass. They called you the Evil Twins. Once your heads were in the game, you were unstoppable. And Bradley, Jake and Javy would soon understand why you and Bob were so happy to be on the same team. 

The two of you didn’t even need to talk to understand the next move of the other. Even Natasha didn’t really understand what was happening. You won the first, then second, then third match. You laughed at the exasperation of Jake and Javy, Bradley on the other hand was just tired of running around. He quit with Natasha, leaving Jake and Javy to find a strategy to strike Bob and you down. “Like the old times huh ?” your twin smiled, giving you a bottle of water. You returned the smile and nodded. “Let’s show them. Evil Twins ?” “Evil Twins.” He clapped his hands with yours with a grin. Oh, the other two weren't ready for the beating they were about to get.

Javy called it quits after the third set. They lost them all and he was getting tired. Jake was pouting while you jumped on your brother’s back. “Evil Twins for the win !” Natasha laughed. You giggled, while Robert ran around like a doofus, you on his back, taunting Jake.  "Don't tease him too much, you know he's a sore loser!" sneered Bradley. "Nonsense!" sulked Jake, "I always accept my defeats, except they never happen.” The rest of the team rolled their eyes, both annoyed and amused.

Reuben and Mickey returned with the pizzas, and the rest of the afternoon was less athletic. Some went for a swim, others played cards in the shade of an umbrella. You chatted peacefully with Natasha and Jake, Robert never too far away. Strangely enough, you were glad he stayed close. Sometimes he would join in the conversation, but he remained Bob, preferring to watch and listen rather than talk.  It was a nice afternoon, you felt like a teenager on holiday with a bunch of friends. Bradley and Javy started a water fight by grabbing Bob and throwing him in the water. You and Natasha ran at the boys to avenge him and one thing led to another and you all ended up in the water, friendly fighting each other.

The sun slowly got low, the afternoon ending peacefully. You stayed at the bar with the squad, learning more about each one, more about your brother’s ‘new’ life. They told you about their life on base and about the bird strike that Natasha and Bob had suffered from. You scolded your twin because he never told you about it. He defended himself by saying that it was not that big of a deal, but by the looks on the others' faces, you knew he lied.

Part of you was jealous of him. You both left home around the same time, and he seemed so happy now, away from your parents and their intrusive presence, away from your father's demoralizing, degrading and demotivating comments. You couldn't understand how he could be doing so well when you were struggling to find yourself, to be happy. This question echoed in your head and made you feel too much in the room. You excused yourself and went outside for some fresh air. You were pale and shaking, and anxiety was getting the better of you. You tried to ease your breathing and closed your eyes to focus on the sound of the waves in front of you. You could hear the laughter and indescribable conversations in the distance, mingled with the music and singing. It was somewhat peaceful and yet you couldn't calm the flood of painful memories that invaded your mind. Every laugh reminded you of your ex's, every burst of voice a little too loud made you cower. You didn't want to think about it anymore. You wanted to forget everything. You just wanted it to stop. It had to stop. You had to get away from it all. You had to-

“Y/N ? Are you ok ?”

Your brother's gentle voice made everything disappear. You felt yourself breathe again. But you knew it would only be temporary ; because seeing him worried would make you weak and anxious again.  You took a deep, shaky breath before turning to him. You tried to hide the tremble of your voice, and put on a fake smile. "It's okay... I... I have to go home. Thanks for today, it was fun!" You passed him in a hurry, still pale and scrapie.  

He sighed and bit his lip before summoning his courage. "What are you running from? You... you looked like you were fine, and then all of a sudden you're running away. " "Robby, please-" "What happened?" "Nothing, I-" "Did someone say something?" "No! I just-" "Did I say or do something wrong? Tell me!" "Then let me talk for god’s sake !" you clenched your fists then sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong, Robby. It's just that... I can't..." your voice cracked a little and you leaned your head back to hold back your tears. Bob's head tilted in concern and he stepped towards you. "Can't what? You can't do what?"

You didn't answer, shaking your head. You couldn't put into words the confusion you felt. You searched for words and began to pace back and forth. "Can't do what Y/N?" Robert insisted gently. "I... fuck... fuck." 

Your voice and your whole body were shaking. It was getting harder and harder to hold back the tears. How could you tell your brother that you envied him and hated that feeling ? How could you envy him for building his life, a life filled with healthy loved ones that were there for him? How could you hold a grudge when he was the one who got you out of your abusive relationship at the risk of his acceptance into the naval academy ?

He took another step towards you, reaching for your hand, but you stepped back. "Hey, come on, tell me-" "I can't get over it, okay?! I-I can't figure out how and why you managed to grow up and I'm stuck at 17! Why do I always feel like I'm in pieces, alone, like he 's still running my life, like he 's always there, over my shoulder, no matter what I do?" "Y/N... it wasn't your fault-"  "I know!!! I fucking know it wasn't my fault!!” you cut him, almost screaming, “I know he 's the one who did this to me, who pretended to love me, who beat the shit out of me and abused me every single day for months! I know all of that ! Then why am I still stuck there ? Why am I the one still struggling?! Why am I the one who feels like a complete failure ? Why can't I let it go?!" your bottom lip was trembling as tears rolled down your face. “Why can’t I just move on ? Why do I always hear dad saying ‘told you so’ or mom sighing every time I mess up ? Why don’t they ever want to talk about what happened but they urge me to just forget about it ?! Why don't they support me ? Why don’t you ?!” 

You gasped, trying to catch your breath, before you whimpered and cried like a baby. Bob stood still for a moment before pulling you into his arms and hugging you. He suspected that the events of your past were still haunting you, but not to this extent. And you felt that he didn't support you... he felt like shit. How could he neglect your feelings so much, how could he act the way he blamed your parents? He let you cry against him for a long moment, swallowing his discomfort. He was the one to blame, and he had to focus on you. "I... I'm sorry, Y/N. I... I didn't realize that my behavior was hurting you… I'm just worried, and I didn't show it the right way. I'm an idiot." "A big idiot," you mumbled, sniffling. "Yes, a big idiot. And I'd really like you to let me help you. We... We have contacts with some really good therapists for post-traumatic stress and stuff... I could give you their numbers?" You just nodded, your tears finally stopping.  "I'm sorry I yelled at you..." you mumbled. Bob smiled and pinched your side.  "Don't be, I deserved it. I’m sorry I tried to interfere between you and Hangman…" “He’s actually a sweet guy behind his smug facade, y'know ?” you smiled and chuckled to his falsely doubtful face and the little 'meh' he let out.

As promised, Bob put you in touch with the therapists he'd told you about, and negotiated a longer return period with your agency. You had a full month and a half more. You started to really work on the singles, and your sessions with the therapist were helping. You knew you'd have to keep seeing one when you got home.  But going wasn’t something you wanted to think about. As the days went by, you didn't want to leave San Diego. Your brother and the Dagger Squad were stationed here permanently, and you needed him in your life.

Him and Jake.

You always thought that the two of you were just a fling, that you or he would get tired of it and move on. But neither of you did. You spent more and more time with him, he'd crash at your Airbnb - uninvited - every now and then with a movie or dinner.  The more time you spent with him, the more you fell for him and you didn't want it to end as a one-night stand, you knew that much. 

As you got to dig beneath his proud, cocky, arrogant facade, you discovered a gentle man full of insecurities. He talked about his father, who was not exactly the ideal role model and the fact that he didn’t have the best of relations with him. He talked about his mama, and with the look he had in his eyes, you knew he worshiped the woman ; based on what he shared, you figured Mrs Seresin was more than strong and dedicated to her children. He told you about his sisters, both of them a couple of years older than him, and his nieces and nephews. He loved the munchkins - his terms, not yours - and you saw in his eyes how much he meant it. They were his whole world, but he’d never admit it.

You tried to take your time with him but he had a strange effect on you ; you found yourself opening up to him, faster than you thought.  You'd never told anyone about your abusive relationship - except Robert. And Jake had listened to you without judgment or interruption. He sat there, ready to absorb any information you wanted and were able to share.

So you were torn between your desire to get back to the recording studio in New York, to get back to work, and your desire to stay in the peaceful everyday life you'd created in just a few weeks. You had to go back. You had obligations to keep. Maybe after you fulfilled your part of the contract, you could negotiate and come back to San Diego? This thought was the only thing that kept you working hard. You succeeded in writing three more singles than the agreed two. You were quite pleased with yourself.

And sooner than you realized, you had to go back to New York.

Natasha, with the help of the rest of the team, had organized a little surprise going-away party at the Hard Deck. Penny was in on the secret and had given them the bar to themselves. You loved the surprise and the evening was unforgettable. Bradley had insisted on karaoke, and you dragged your twin along. Robert rolled his eyes, but played along. You had the time of your life and enjoyed every second of this last night with your new friends. They made you promise to call them whenever you could, to think of them and to come back as soon as possible. They took you home and spent a few more hours with you before letting you rest. But just when you thought everyone was gone, you found Jake on the couch, waiting for you. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you saw him there, his eyes anchored in yours. You detailed his face, as if to remember it after you'd left; his slightly wavy blond hair, those beautiful green eyes, his perfect jawline, his cocky smile. That damn smile that made you weak in the knees like a teenager. God, you hated that smile as much as you loved it.

"Enjoying the view?"

You didn't realize that he had stood up and was now so close to you. A deep blush spread across your cheeks and yet you couldn't take your eyes off him, your gaze locked with his. You bit your lip and grinned. "So what if I am, big boy?" you teased. He huffed, amused, and his hand slowly reached for yours, your knuckles brushing. His other hand reached for your cheek, his thumb stroking it tenderly. You leaned into his touch, feeling yourself melt under his gaze. He said nothing, his eyes never leaving you. "What?" you whispered, your heart beating a little faster. "That's how I want to remember you." "Like what? Tipsy and tired?" you laughed a little. "Na. Happy... relaxed... you look beautiful." Jake whispered back, his cheeks taking on a rosy hue. Your stomach fluttered and you found the courage to interlock his fingers with yours. "Sounds like I have you under my siren's spell, Lieutenant..." you teased, biting your lip. "You certainly do, ma'am," he whispered again, the gap between the two of you only a few inches. You felt your confidence slip from your fingers, your eyes on his lips.

"Kiss me..."

It's an almost inaudible beg that escaped you, and you didn't even have time to be embarrassed that you felt him on your lips. The kiss was sweet, tender. You squeezed his hand into yours, and his free one slid around your waist, holding you close. You wanted the kiss to last forever. With amazing ease, Jake lifted you against him, his hands going under your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He carried you into the bedroom, his lips exploring yours, your jaw, your neck and your collarbone. Your fingers brushed through his soft hair and soon you felt your back against the mattress.  Your clothes ended up chaotically thrown around the room as you undressed and kissed each other. The moon gave you just enough light to never lose sight of him. His eyes devoured you before his hands discovered your body. He asked you if you were okay every step of the way, and you never thought being asked for consent could be so arousing.

That night was the best sex you've ever had. It was slow and tender at first, and when you were both comfortable enough, it got rougher, in a good way.  You fell asleep curled up against him, rocked by his heartbeat.

The next morning you woke up alone in bed. Jake left a note on the nightstand, saying he had to go to work early. "Call me when you can, have a safe flight. PS: Gonna miss you. PPS: If anything happens to you on the flight, I'll hunt the pilot." You chuckled and tucked the post-it into your notebook. You quickly got ready and Robert took you to the airport.

The ride was rather quiet, neither of you wanting to be separated again. He helped you with your luggage and waited with you until you finally had to go. You hugged him tightly and thanked him for the past weeks. "Call me when you get there, okay? And don't forget to hydrate. And eat. And..." "Ok Dad," you joked with a smile, "I'll call you, don't worry. Love you, Robby." "I love you too. Be safe."

8 months.

You have been stuck in New York for 8 long months. You did a lot though. A new album, some concerts, some interviews and photo shoots. The 'scandals' in the press disappeared and the journalists finally focused more on your songs. You video called the Daggers as much as you could - almost every day - and texted a lot with your brother, reassuring him that you continued to see a therapist and that you were doing well under the stress. But the one you called and texted the most was Jake. Every day you had a sweet good morning text, and every night you had an equally sweet good night text.

You missed him.

You missed them all, of course. But Jake Seresin was under your skin. And as hard as it was to admit, you loved him. You couldn't wait to see him again. Of course, no one knew you were together. Natasha seemed to have doubts, and sometimes Bob was somewhat suspicious too but as long as they didn’t ask you didn’t say anything.

8 months of hard work and your agent agreed to let you go to San Diego as he made an arrangement between a recording studio and your label.  You told no one but Penny. You wanted to surprise the team. You had one last show to do in New York and then you would catch your flight to California. 

Before the concert, you called your brother, knowing that he would probably be at the Hard Deck with the others, since it was almost 7:00 p.m there. As soon as he answered, you could hear the team around him. "Wow, look at you Nemesis! You look great!" Natasha said, smiling broadly. You laughed and thanked her when you heard the other whistle and complimented you. "Not too stressed?" Bob asked as the others calmed down. "Well, it's the last show for at least six weeks. I’ll try to make it fun!" "Of course you will," said a voice you recognized immediately. "Hangman, you look good," you teased as you saw him appear on the screen. You noticed the slight blush on his cheeks as he spotted you in your dress and makeup. He didn't have time to reply that you had to go on stage.  "Ok bye guys, gotta go, love you!" you hung up and had time to see a text message on your phone : 'You better keep that dress'. You smiled. You may have fallen in love with Jake, but you also knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

The show went smoothly, and after a celebratory dinner with your team, you went back to your soon-to-be-outdated apartment. All your things were packed and ready to go. You couldn't wait to move to San Diego. Your flight was at 3 pm in New York and you were scheduled to land in California at 6 pm. Bless the time zone difference, if you were lucky, you could get to the Hard Deck before the team and wait for them.

But since nothing ever goes exactly according to plan, your flight was an hour late. That wasn't too bad, you could still surprise them, you just had to change the way. You contacted Penny and asked her if she could manage to distract them. She agreed and gave you permission to use the back door to be more discreet when you entered. Your excitement was through the roof, you felt like a child on Christmas Day.  By the time your cab reached the bar, your heart was pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe you were finally there, finally where you felt at home. But you had to be reunited with those you considered family to feel completely at home. You almost ran to the back door of the bar, re-reading the instructions Penny had sent you: she'd distract the Daggers by asking them to bring back some heavy beer packs and other beverages, and you could hide discreetly by the pool table.

The perfect plan.

You did as she said, a smile forming on your lips as you heard your friends in the distance. You were stressed, but not in an anxious way, you just couldn't wait. You picked up a pool cue to keep your hands busy. When you finally heard them coming, you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming ‘surprise!’. The first person to spot you was Mickey. His eyes widened and he stopped dead in his tracks, almost tripping Reuben, Natasha and Javy. They didn't have time to grumble before Mickey pointed at you, speechless. A small laugh escaped you as they froze in front of you, one after the other. Only Jake, Bradley and Robert were missing. Bradley and your twin were chatting, a little bit behind, and you soon heard Robert's voice.

"Are you guys okay? You look like you've seen a ghost..." His voice became almost inaudible at the end of his sentence, as he realized they were all staring at you. You smiled at them and tilted your head. "Are we playing, or are you afraid of losing?" you asked with a bit of a laugh. Natasha couldn't hold back her laughter and almost ran to hug you. "It's good to see you again, Mini Floyd."

The others came right after to greet you, hugging you and sometimes lifting you off the ground. You laughed, happy to see them again. Your twin was still frozen, not believing his eyes. You scooted up to him and pinched his cheeks. "Good evening Robby, did you-" You didn't even have time to finish your sentence before he pulled you into his arms. You smiled and hugged him as tightly as you could, small tears of joy escaping from both of you.  "It's good to see you," he finally said, "Missed your stupid face.” "Oh I know you did, you can't live without me dearest brother !" you chuckled. You caught up with everyone, admitting that you were on a break, but not telling them that you were here for good. You wanted everyone to be here to make that announcement but someone was missing.

You paid for your round of beers - and sparkling water for Bob - and went looking for Jake. Why wasn't he here?  Penny grinned as she noticed the look on your face. "Don't worry Y/N, he's just on the phone with his sister. One of his nephews' birthdays, I think." "Thanks Pen- Wait, what are you-" "I know everything dear, he talks too much for his own good if you ask the good questions." "How did you find out?" you whispered, making sure no one was listening. "Well, it wasn't really hard. Some of your interviews or shows have been aired," she pointed at the old TV, "and the calls you made ; he just had that look in his eyes. I can tell when a man is head over heels. He certainly is."

You blinked and shook your head in disbelief. Of course she'd guessed; Penny knew the squadron like her own children. She chuckled and handed you another beer. “Go surprise him.” You smiled and nodded, heading to the front door. Your heart fluttered when you finally heard Jake’s voice. It was hushed but you could feel his smile through his soft laughter. You waited for him to end his call, still hidden by the door. You bit back a chuckle when you heard him saying goodbye to the kids with a baby voice. It was ridiculously adorable.

“Hello stranger, does that pretty voice have a name ? ” 

He was a bit startled and turned to you hastily, not believing his ears. A surprised expression appeared on his face, but a flirtatious smile quickly took its place. "That's my line, baby." "Oh really? Supposed I forgot," You grinned proudly and took a step towards him, "Did ya miss me, big boy?" He grinned and grabbed your waist, sending a sweet shiver down your spine. "Not as much as you missed me." You rolled your eyes in amusement and set the beer you had brought him aside. You took a moment to just drown in his green eyes, the light of the sunset making them look surreal. How could he be so handsome ? 

He was quite speechless to have you here, it made you smile. Jake was always so talkative, it was strange to have him so quiet around you. "Cat got your tongue, Seresin?" He chuckled and stroked your cheek. "Why don't you check?" You smiled and finally kissed him. You had waited 8 months for this feeling and it was just so good. His soft lips against yours, his strong hands on your waist, fingers digging lightly into your flesh. You put your hands on his neck, parted your lips to let his tongue reach for yours. One of his hands slid up to cup your cheek and you leaned into his touch as the kiss ended.  "I have to admit, I missed that," he whispered with a grin, his forehead pressed gently against yours. You huffed and rolled your eyes, "Told you I had you under my spell." He laughed and kissed the nape of your neck, holding you close. You smiled and stroked his hair before stepping back.  "Let's join the team before ‘Tasha gets suspicious."

You took his hand and headed inside, eager to tell your friends the big news.

You missed the atmosphere of the Hard Deck. The soft songs from the jukebox, the always nice patrons, your favorite people at the pool table or playing darts... everything was so comforting. Your smile widened when you reached the Daggers, dragging Jake with you. "Look who I found outside," you teased, "good old Hangman.” "Ah, you should have let him out," Bradley sneered, sipping his beer. “Real funny Bradshaw, I know you already missed me.”

You let the two men fight like two children and when you noticed Natasha's eyes on your hand in Jake's, you blushed a little. She grinned and whispered something to Reuben. You could read a little 'damn it !' on his lips as he frowned. "Okay guys, Javy and I won! The bet is over!" "What? No!" Bradley was outraged. He grumbled and handed Natasha a bill.  "Wait a minute, what bet?" your twin asked. "Well, my dear Bob, it seems that our little Jake and your sister... are together." You blushed and wanted to hide, not knowing how your brother would react. Jake was already arguing with Javy, telling him he was a traitor for betting on it, since he had confided in him on the subject.

"Oh, I've known for a while," Robert said simply with a smile. "What?!" you huffed, letting go of your boyfriend's hand to face your twin. "What do you mean you knew?" "Well, for starters, Jake stayed with you the night before you went back to New York. And you hid the hickey he left on your neck badly. Then I got suspicious when every time we ended our video calls, he got one in the next two minutes; and he's not the most discreet when he's on the phone. But I knew it when he bought that really nice necklace and asked me, of all people, for advice. A week later you were wearing it. So yeah, I knew," he shrugged with a smile, laughing a little at your expression. "What? I just thought that neither of you were ready to tell anyone? But you seem happy so it's okay."

You were surprised. You didn't think he'd take it so well, but you weren't going to complain.

So the evening began with a secret revealed. You didn't hesitate to stay close to Jake, even ending up on his lap when the bar was full. You listened to their adventures from the last few months - at least what they were allowed to share.  It was good to be with them again, to find that comfort.  After Mickey bought his round, he turned to you. "Well, let's ask the burning question: how long are you staying?" "To tell you the truth... I'm not leaving. I'm moving into my little house 10 minutes from here tomorrow," you smiled. "And you didn't tell me?!" said Jake and Bob at the same time, making them blush under the laughter of the others. "I wanted to surprise you! I've got a new deal with my label, so I can stay here." "Cheers to that! To the definitive return of Y/N Nemesis Floyd," Bradley decreed, raising his beer.

You all laughed and toasted each other, happy with the news.

All was finally well.

You had finally found your place, and you wouldn't change it for the world.

[secretkittywolf]

Kiaz incorrect quotes

I may have gone a biiiiit overboard. Not my fault that they fit with so many!

Miguel: Do you take constructive criticism?Robby: I only take cash or credit

Miguel: You know, there’s something weird going on with your face?

Robby: What?

Miguel: You’re smiling! I didn’t know you could do that

Miguel, points to Robby: He called me the B-word! Robby: Motherfucker doesn’t start with ‘b’

Miguel: Is something burning? Robby, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you~

Miguel: Robby, the toaster is literally on fire

Robby: I’m in love with you Miguel: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork Robby: I know Miguel: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Miguel, to Robby: We had a date! Miguel: aggressively points to Hello Kitty Colouring Book

Miguel: Holding up a pack of pencils These are kinda cute Robby: Miguel, that’s gay Miguel: We’ve been dating for 2 years—

Waiter: What would you like? Robby: Bring a milkshake with two straws Miguel: blushes Robby: puts both straws in his mouth Watch how fast I can drink this!!

Robby: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response Miguel: Wow. They sound stupid Robby: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense Miguel: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!” Robby: I guess you’re right. Hey Miguel, I love you Miguel: See! Just say that! Robby: Holy fucking shit Miguel: If that flies over their head then, sorry Robby, but they're too dumb for you Robby: Miguel...

Robby: This date is boring! Miguel: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store Robby: Then why did you invite me? Miguel: I didn't. I specifically said "Don't come with me" then you said "Fuck you Miguel I'll do whatever I want!"

Robby: I'm trash Miguel: As someone who's environmentally conscious, it's my duty to pick you up. Does 7 work for you? Robby: Robby: You smooth motherfucker Robby: And yes it does

Robby: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake Miguel: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear Robby: … Robby: You mean ring bearER, right? Miguel: … Robby: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding

Robby, trying to flirt with Miguel: I think both of our families suck

Miguel: I have feelings for you Robby: Why? What's wrong with you? Are you sure you're okay?

Robby: Hey, I’m getting in the shower. Wanna help me out? Miguel: …Have you never taken a shower before?

Robby: Goodnight to the love of my life, Miguel, and fuck the rest of y'all

Robby: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time? Miguel: AS ENEMIES?! Robby:

Miguel: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know! Robby: The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus Miguel: Stop

Robby: As top in this relationship, I think we should- Miguel: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me

Robby: How much did you spend on this date? Miguel: $1400. But all of it's on credit cards, so it's like $5 a month for the next 2,000 years

Robby, sweating: Miguel, there’s something I need to ask you- Miguel: Finally! You’re proposing! Robby: How’d you know? Miguel: Robby, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner Miguel: I even picked it up once

Miguel: Robby, I… Miguel: I love you! Robby: Not my problem

Robby: Are you ready to commit? Miguel: Like, a crime or a relationship?

Miguel, throwing their head into Robby's lap: Tell me I'm pretty! Robby, lovingly stroking their hair: You're pretty fucking annoying, that's what you are

Robby: You look good in that hoodie Miguel: You know where else I'd look good? Robby, zero hesitation: My bed Miguel, at the same time: By your side- wait, what?

Robby: I feel like doing something stupid Miguel: I’m stupid, do me

Robby: Know why I called you in here? Miguel: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic Robby: Stops pouring two glasses of wine Accidentally?

Robby: I don't know how to tell you this, but… I love you Miguel: That's great, Robby. Especially considering the fact we've been married for 6 fucking years

Robby: Miguel and I are no longer friends. Miguel: ROBBY! THAT IS THE WORST WAY TO TELL PEOPLE THAT WE’RE DATING!

Miguel: Did it hurt when you fell- Robby: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt- Miguel: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs Robby: … Miguel: You just laid there for 15 minutes

Robby: The stars are so beautiful… Miguel: They're just giant balls of gas Robby: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then- Miguel: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you Robby: blushes Oh…

Robby: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? Miguel: Peonies, why? Robby: Miguel: Were you going to get me flowers? Robby: Miguel: Robby: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

Miguel: Fight me! Robby: gets on one knee and pulls out a ring Robby: Fight me for the rest of our lives

Miguel: angrily presses Robby against a wall WHERE'S THE MONEY?! Robby: … Robby: Are we about to kiss-

Robby: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized- Miguel: steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely Robby: That one. I want that one

Robby: Hey, wanna take a shower with me? Miguel: I have a gun in that nightstand beside the bed. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take it out and shoot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy

At a speed dating event Miguel: Oh wow, people are really shallow Robby: Consider it a background check. For example: Do you have a death certificate? Miguel: Checks their pulse Sorry, not yet Robby: Good, I'm not fucking a ghost again

Robby: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine Miguel: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again Robby: O-oh. Wait- Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns? Miguel: ...Is it working?

Miguel walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: Robby, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK?! Robby, sipping coffee happily: I love you too~

Robby: We should get you to a doctor for a check up immediately. What if it happens again, and there isn’t anyone around to help you? What if it’s congenital? Oh my God! Was it me? Did I hurt you? Miguel: …You realize any other person that made their partner pass out in bed would simply feel really proud of themselves, right?

Miguel: Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet? Robby: What? Like J F K W S Q X- Miguel: No, like, U R A Q T Robby: Awwww!

Miguel: Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreshing Robby: Are you a software update? because not right now

Miguel: That was so hot, Robby Robby: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets Miguel: I'm so in love with you

Miguel: You have to apologize to them Robby Robby: Fine! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT the person you fell in love with!

Miguel: Bro- Robby: No, no, hold up, rewind Robby: My tongue was down in your throat just a second ago and now you're calling me bro??

Robby: Wow, they really hate us Miguel: Yes, perhaps they’re homophobic Robby: But we’re not gay, Miguel Miguel: Robby: Miguel: We’re not?

Miguel: What are you in the mood for? Robby: World domination Miguel: That's a bit ambitious Robby: You are my world Miguel: Aww… Robby: Miguel: Robby: Miguel: OH!

Miguel: I truly go into housewife mode when I'm someone's soulmate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning Robby: This is a lie Robby: I'm literally dating them. This is a lie Robby: HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE! gestures to the burnt food WHAT IS THIS?!

Robby comes home absolutely drunk, undresses, and stands in the bedroom Miguel: Babe, are you.. coming to bed? Robby: No thank you, I’m sure you’re lovely but I have a boyfriend Robby: Lies on the ground and falls asleep Miguel: …

Robby: Stop doing that Miguel: Stop doing what? Robby: Saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you!

Robby: Do you love me? Miguel: We’re literally married Robby: Yeah, but as friends or—

Miguel: Cause your pretty and your smart and your ignoring me so your obviously my type Robby, who was distracted: I'm sorry- what were you saying? Miguel: Perfect

Robby: Hey, about that love letter you sent me- Miguel: blushes What are your thoughts? Robby: The fourth sentence- Miguel: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I- Robby: It’s “you’re” not “your”

Miguel: I owe you one Robby: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even

Miguel is crying after breaking up with Sam Robby: There there, Miguel Miguel, still crying: Thanks, but how did you get into my room? Robby: Great question—

Robby: So you like cats? Miguel: Yeah Robby: tries to impress them by slowly pushing a glass off the table

Robby: Wow, Miguel, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you Miguel: We literally slept together yesterday! Robby: That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands

Robby: Miguel, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as friends, right? Miguel, naked in Robby's bed: No, I absolutely do not Robby, already taking off their clothes: Fuck… Me neither

Miguel: Talk dirty to me, baby~ Robby: The dishes Miguel: Wh- Robby: They’ve been there for 4 days and it’s your turn to wash them. You still haven’t cleaned them and I have asked you to do so several times

Robby: My hands are cold Miguel: Here, let me hold them Robby: My lips are cold too Miguel: covers Robby's mouth with his hand

Miguel: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at fascists" and I think that's very sexy of us Robby: If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both

Robby: I like your new pants! Miguel: Thanks, they were 50% off! Robby: I’d like them better if they were 100% off. winks Miguel: The store can’t just give away clothes for free Robby: That’s… not what I meant Miguel: That’s a terrible way to run a business, Robby

Miguel: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night? Robby: It was autocorrect Miguel: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me" Robby: Yes

Robby: Miguel and I are no longer dating Miguel: Robby, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married!

Miguel: Talk dirty to me~ Robby: Inflation is a serious problem and lumber prices are at a high Miguel: Wha- Robby: The economy is in shambles

Robby: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles Miguel: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one? Robby: Seize the dick

Miguel: We have a problem Robby: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them

Miguel: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl Robby: Okay Miguel: And make out during the scary parts Robby: Th- Robby: The scary parts Robby: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl?

Miguel: Are we fighting or flirting? Robby: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck- Miguel: Your point?

Robby: I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives Miguel: I wake up at 4:30 AM every day to train Robby: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives

Robby: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy Miguel: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep Robby: I said within reason, Miguel. How about I murder that guy? *points to Terry Silver* Miguel: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't? Robby: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

Robby: Pros and cons of dating me Robby: Pros. You'll be the cute one Robby: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

Robby: BE A BETTER PERSON! Miguel: WHY?! Robby: BECAUSE SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE MORALS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP AND IT SURE AS FUCK AIN'T GONNA BE ME, SWEETHEART!

Miguel: Robby, you love me, right? Robby: Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like

Robby: Can you cut me some slack, Miguel? I’m sort of in love Miguel: I’m sorry but that’s really not my problem Robby: I’m in love with you Miguel: blushes Oh. That brings me in the loop a little

Miguel: Robby is playing hard to get Miguel: Little does he know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of

Robby: I want to kiss you Miguel, not paying attention: What? Robby: I said if you die, I wont miss you

Robby: Two brooooos! Miguel: Chillin' in a hot tub! Robby: Five feet apart 'cause we're not gay! Miguel: Robby: Miguel: tearing up Robby: Babe, c'mon… Miguel: AND HERE YOU REALLY HAD ME THINKING WE HAD SOMETHING! Robby: Babe…

Robby: Sorry I’m late, I was... doing things Miguel: Hi, I’m ‘things’

Miguel: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt Robby: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit

Miguel: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you… Robby: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me and no take backs honey

Robby: Okay, but if your not gay then why are you always holding my hand and kissing me and telling me I’m your boyfriend? Miguel: Dude- Its satire! Robby: THAT'S NOT WHAT SATIRE MEANS!

Miguel: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this… Robby: pulls out card from deck Now, was this your card? Miguel: Holy shit-

Robby: Laughs Babe, you had a crush on me? That’s embarrassing— Miguel: We’re married

[robbiereyesangr114]

@cicada-candy @wazzappp @belushiii I know this may be an odd request, but would any of you be up to draw Robbie as a firefighter? I recently started volunteering at a local fire company and after thinking about it for awhile it'd work good as a cover job for him (would give him a better understanding of how fire works, explain him being on scene during fires and crimes, would help explain to Gabe or a S/O his late nights out in stories, etc). If not, I totally understand, but I figured it'd be worth a shot asking