#“Temped to keep him like like this when he first came to me” WHAT THE FUCK

[leafatlaw]

Wait isn’t Guillermo immune to hypnosis ?? Or does sleep hypnosis .just not count

[your-highnessmarvel]

Insatiable

AN: No one asked for this but the Butcher brain rot is crazy and i can't stop myself. Alas, I couldn't resist so welcome to the madness. Anyway, I went insane and absolutely wrote a devoted piece to this man. Jesus help me.

Warnings: dub-con (use of sex pollen-ish mind control), smut, fingering, language, and Butcher is a warning in and of itself.

MINORS DNI Below the cut

"I'm not wearing any underwear."

The admonition echoed in the habitat of Butcher's Cadillac like a bird's call. Even the sound of leather on leather, as the man sitting beside you slowly turned to examine you, wasn't loud enough to get the stupid ringing out of your head.

This had all started off like a bad scab you thought was healed but wasn't, and now it was bleeding all over your favorite pink pull.

Hughie and MM had uncovered a rightful piece of Temp V hideout; a Supe's mansion on the Upper East Side who, just happened, to be throwing one of his renowned "XXXchange" parties for Supes and their pets (this was how it was described on the e-vite MM hacked).

This Supe, still unknown to everyone because he kept the mansion under a random woman's name, was supposedly a Seven-in-the-making, as Hughie put it. If he could prove himself, he was next in line for a comfy beige seat in the Tower. So hence, him keeping and distributing Temp V to teens and young adults who didn't know any better.

So what had been Hughie's grand ol' plan? Bring you in. As the newest Supe member of The Boys, no one had yet seen your face. No one even knew of you. You were a low-level "barely considerable" Supe...as Butcher had put it the first time he blew the hinges off your front door.

Your power wasn't really a - well, a power at all. It was mostly an advancement, an intellectual add-on, or a sixth sense. You could read lies. More coherently, because someone with a beard and a giant stick up his ass didn't understand correctly--you could tell when someone was lying.

You weren't really an attribute to the team when it came to brute force. You left that up to Annie and Kimiko. But you had your perks, and since you were still under Vought's radar, you could slip through the cracks and get intel for the Boys.

Now why was Butcher with you, the most notorious Boys' member? Well, one might say he was eager to see your 2-hour fight training in practice, but really, it was because he "didn't trust a dumb twat with highly sensitive information and tech". His words.

So he'd garnished a Tommy Bahama blouse with pink flamingoes and palm trees and a matching set of swim shorts, sunglasses, and a stupid bright pink bucket hat that was way too small for his big ass head.

And now here both of y'all were, headed to the Upper East Side, dressed like a hooker and a pimp. Annie had insisted on this get up, a tiny, tiny pink skirt, a white bikini top, and a pink cover up with flip flops to finish off this fucking look. Because apparently, no one would let you in if you weren't A) a Supe and B) not dressed like a House Bunny.

"So you're tellin' me," Butcher drawled as the New York skyline darkened, "that your bare pussy is suction-cupping my leather seats?"

You crossed your arms. "I'm sitting at an angle."

Butcher slapped the wheel. "You should've told me earlier!" he laughed. You frowned in return when he swivelled that giant head of his towards you. "Come now, if you're not wearing panties, why should I, eh?"

"You wear panties?"

He hummed, regaining control of the road as the car slipped passed the last townhouse to enter Mansion Ville.

"I like you, little Truthteller," he mumbled to himself. "Thought you were a bit worthless at first, but you might just prove yourself tonight!"

You didn't dare answer the last bit, instead focusing on the details Annie and Hughie gave you before you flip-flopped your way into Butcher's passenger seat (and did absolutely not suction-cup his leather seats).

The idea was to go in and place a few bugs in and around the mansion in key locations. You could try to figure out who the Supe was or even find out where he stashed his V, but it didn't matter. The Boys would find out over the bugs.

The mansion Butcher parked the Caddie in front of was like a cookie-cutter version of the 90s PlayBoy mansion.

"Alright, love," Butcher sighed, killing the engine and stepping out, rounding the nose of the car to open the door for you. "Give 'em a nice peek of that minge, eh?"

You blushed from head to toe, a torment of fire assaulting your skin until Butcher caught on and chuckled low in his chest, helping you step out the car with his hand.

You still hadn't gotten used to the crass words that could tumble out of his mouth like vomit.

He guided you to the entrance, where a man dressed in black boxers and a black neck tie asked for your invite number, which you recited from the one Hughie gave you.

Then he asked, "And which is Supe and which is pet?"

You blushed even hotter. "Um." Your throat got sticky and dry all at once. "I'm the Supe and he's my... um, he's my-"

"Her pet," Butcher interrupted with a wide smile, the sunglasses hiding the glint in his eye that was surely showing. That ridiculous bucket hat made him look almost two heads taller than you as he bent down to whisper in your ear, "bark, bark."

You groaned inwardly as you lead him into the foyer, where a sprawling staircase lead to a mezzanine and a mahogany banister and a wide archway gave way to a mess of bodies in the living room.

"Oh my God," you mumbled, turning away from the onslaught of legs and arms and slithering bodies like a pile of snakes.

"Oh, nuh-uh," Butcher chuckled, grabbing you by the shoulders, steering you right into the mass of party-goers, moaning and groaning and thrusting into one another or bouncing on top of each other like mad dogs. "If you want to play the part, you have to look the part." His mouth was right next to your ear, and for some reason, the breath caressing your skin sent a slowly gliding shiver down your spine.

Why was this happening?

You felt the flesh melt where his fingers lay, clutching at your shoulders, pulling your coverup off of you.

"Butcher," you said, stopping his hand.

He shook his head. "Show them what you got, mama," he whispered again, the rough of his beard tracing against your cheek. He scooped the coverup off your shoulders and threw it across the room, leaving you in your bikini top.

Butcher had never seen you so exposed before. You'd always worn pants and t-shirts around the safe house, so watching all that bare skin available to his hungry eyes flipped a switch in his head.

A woman, tall and elegant, cream skin and sultry black eyes, approached you before Butcher could do something stupid. He straightened up, lifting the sunglasses from his nose.

"Miss, look at you," he cooed.

Miss was naked. Someone had left a bite mark on her right breast, just above her peaked nipple. She was so long-limbed and beautiful, and the sight of her naked body made you turn away instinctively.

"I like you," she said, voice low and husky, like a purr.

"I like you too, sweetheart," Butcher answered, the heat of his body completely leaving you as he zeroed in all his attention on the naked, wanting lady before you.

She huffed. "You're great too," she answered, and when you turned, her lascivious brown eyes were settled on you. "But it's her that I want."

Butcher gasped and then erupted in laughter, taking the bucket hat off his head and putting it to his heart. "Woah, I never imagined I'd see this in my lifetime."

The other woman smiled slowly and you gulped. She was pretty, but she was also not part of the mission.

So you back-peddled.

You put a delicate hand to Butcher's arm, digging your nails into his skin, and put on a lovely, sweet smile for the offering girl. "That's nice of you," you said, voice sultry like a wet candy cane. "But we're more interested in watching." As you said this, you dropped into your act as best you could, mustering up the strength not to blush but to play the part of the sex-obsessed Supe.

She brightened up at this, gesturing to Butcher. "Well I could fuck him while you watch," she suggested.

Butcher's body tensed up against you and he turned to you. "Please say yes," he mumbled.

You smiled, throwing him a glance. "Both of us are watchers," you corrected, watching as she bowed her head, a lustrous gleam in her eye.

"It would've been a pleasure," she said before walking away.

When she was climbing onto another woman's lap, Butcher grabbed your bicep and brought you into a corner, sheltered in the dim lighting of the room, smothered under the moans and groans and the sloppy sounds of...intercourse.

"You were this close to fulfilling a fantasy of mine," he groaned, and when you looked up, he looked more angry than turned on.

"We're not here so I can watch you have sex with a woman, asshole!" you gritted between your teeth. ''We're here to plant bugs and find some V."

He huffed, rearranging his Tommy Bahama. "I'm obeying just because you're wearing this outfit," he grumbled, following you as you led them into the next room.

A kitchen, stock full with boxes of canned beverages and food platters.

"Okay, here." You pointed to the dinner table in the adjacent room, a teakwood marvel that surely housed a few meetings or two.

Butcher expertly placed a bug under the table.

You meandered safely through the house, planting bugs in various living rooms, meeting rooms, and spare bedrooms. Whenever some couple or lone masturbator dedicated their attention to you both, you pretended to watch, Butcher enlacing you in his arms.

It's only then you noticed how tall, how big this man was. He was easily dwarfing you by just standing there, your head against his chest, his fingers drawing lazy circles against your exposed spine.

When the onlookers would pass, he'd chuckle as you pushed him away like he was a booger wall.

But the more you traveled in the house, the more people seemed to stare, wanting, questioning. So you ended up holding Butcher's hand, at his command: "Wouldn't want the lovely ladies stealing you away, eh?"

And hand holding turned into his arm around your shoulders, the tip of his very long fingers ghosting your breast.

"Let's go upstairs," he whispered in your ear once he'd bugged up the toilet.

"Ew, no."

He sucked his teeth. "I mean," he gritted, pushing you up against a wall when a man with a considerably large strap on made his way towards you. Butcher bent down, squeezing the breath from your lungs as he grazed his mouth on your bare shoulder. He pressed a featherlight kiss, all while observing the passing man, dragging his lips up to your ear. "We should go bug up the rooms, eh? Maybe see if we can find this cunt's V supply?"

You nodded, a wicked shiver pebbling your flesh.

Butcher blew cold breath onto the thin line of saliva he'd left on your skin. "Cold?"

You swallowed hard. "Let's just go."

He chuckled as you grabebd his hand and led him back to the stairs, galloping up to the second floor.

Truth is, you'd never imagined Butcher like this. He was so arrogant and he loved to make people jump out of their skins by how uncomfortable they were with him, but you'd chopped it up to the old chip on the block; Butcher pushing people away to keep himself safe.

So when the Boys had initiated you, you'd figured it'd be best to steer clear from this tyrant of a man. He was way older than you anyway, and he was always calling you every name in the book except your government given one. And he was always dismissing your ideas, so you'd always assumed he had an image of an immature little girl in his head.

But he'd dreamed of you more times than he cared to count. The messed up parts of his brain, where most of it was left behind in his old life, conjured up hauntings of you every night. Of those soft, plump lips whenever you'd eat cherries. Of your legs in your pajama shorts and your giggle when Kimiko signed something stupid. Of that perfect little body of yours.

"Okay, in here." You interrupted his chain of thought, the one that was going to crash into a puddle brains that would eventually leak out of his ear.

You lead him into a room, which turned out to be some kind of antechamber with a hearth and a giant portrait of a small, bald man.

"He looks like a mouse," you muttered.

But Butcher froze, tearing his hand away from yours. "Oh, fuck me," he groaned, putting his sunglasses and hat onto the low table. "That's the fucking Seducer."

Your skin crawled. You turned, examined Butcher's expression as he leaned against the far wall. "This cum guzzler is the one trafficking V?" he thought to himself, just as you asked, "who's the Seducer?"

Butcher turned to examine you across the room, lit by a few lights in the sconces. "He's the world's number 1 date raper," he answered, frowning. "This guy can intoxicate the female species into a mad heat, like dogs."

"What?" You frowned.

Butcher walked a bit closer, turning his head to watch you out of one eye, like a bird. "Yeah, he secrets this hormone on a whim and boom, bitches go mad for his dick."

"Oh." You swallowed, turned to push the handle of another door, leading to a darkened room fit for a king. "I think this is his room."

Butcher muttered behind you, "Lucky guy if you ask me."

"Trouble getting women, Butcher?" you asked absentmindedly as you entered the dark room, lights from the lawn outside filtering milky-white through the windows, illuminating your path like a trail of snow.

Butcher followed, closing the door behind you. "Not really," he answered, immediately pulling cubbards and drawers open. "The ladies love me."

"Oh, yeah I bet," you muttered, pulling open the wardrobe. A loose floorboard creaked loudly and you froze, turning to meet Butcher's eye.

He scrambled to where you stood, pressing on the floor and repeating the awful creaking sound.

"Pants jizzer must be keeping the V under his floor," he mumbled, pressing until at least 6 floorboards rose from the ground on one end, a whole door to the underside of the Seducer's floor.

"Bingo," you giggled, helping Butcher pull the damn thing open. But there was nothing there, only an empty black space that could've fit maybe two people, gaping at you like a dark maw. "He must have transfered them," you whispered.

"Or he's trafficking other things," Butcher replied darkly.

Just as you were about to close the floorboards, a loud thud rang out in the antechamber. You froze, listening, until a feminine giggle made you and Butcher lock eyes.

"Get in," he whispered, motioning to the black pit under your knees.

"In here!?" you whispered tightly.

Whoever was on the other side was making their way towards the room, painstakingly, and this was not the place you and Butcher needed to be found.

"Yes, fuck, get in," he insisted, and your heart thudded so loudly, so harshly against your throat you thought it would burst right out through your chest.

Shaking, you got into the little space, falling onto your back because you couldn't see where this thing ended. As soon as you got your hair out of your eyes, Butcher was tumbling onto you, closing the floorboards a millisecond before the bedroom door burst open.

Sound was immediately muffled, like being underwater, and the only thing you could hear was your breathing. Butcher's breathing over you. Your heart in your throat, nauseating you, the adrenaline rushing like a flood in your veins.

Butcher's chest heaving against yours, the entire length of him pressed up on you like a heavy blanket.

"Get off," you whispered, feeling the heat of his forearm next to your head.

"There's no space," he grumbled, his voice catching on your cheek, your neck, as he tried to maneuver himself every which way that meant he wasn't pressed up on you, but he was just so damn big, like hiding with a grizzly bear, that whenever he tried to move, he just ended up being half on and half off you.

"Fuck it," he grumbled, pressing one hand under your thigh, wrenching a gasp from your throat as he placed himself comfortably between your legs.

The pressure of him on your bare bottom half made you freeze, heart hammering like an angry drum against your ribcage. The way you were positioned, thighs wide open, knees bent each side of his waist, made the skimpy little skirt bundle up onto your tummy, leaving you completely bare.

"Hush up, little thing," Butcher whispered in your ear, holding himself up on his forearms as not to crush the breath out of you. But his voice was wretched, pulled and tight, no doubt reacting to the heat he could feel through the thin fabric of his swim shorts.

The noise overhead intensified; a moan, a few garbled words, thudding.

"They're going to do it while he lie here," you whispered, hands balled up by your sides.

Butcher chuckled silently, breath fanning your neck. "So we really are voyeurs."

You smiled, holding back a giggle until a heavy thud caught your attention and the voices suddenly got a bit clearer. They were right over you.

A woman's voice floated through. "How ever I can serve you, Seducer."

The last word made your insides coil in fear. It looked like this woman was answering a command from the Seducer himself, the man who owned this house, who trafficked all the V and worked with Vought.

"Fuck," Butcher muttered. "This is worse than I thought."

"Why?" you asked silently, your fingers trembling against your thighs.

You felt him bend forward, his body tight like a rod. "This is going to hurt, love."

And just as you were about to ask what he was about to do, a soft pang echoed in your lower belly, like someone had tied a rope to your bellybutton and pulled. You squirmed, the thudding overhead leading back to the bed.

The pulling again, making you heave in a breath, squeeze your eyes shut. "No, no, no," you muttered, feeling an ache build between your legs, a force pull through your veins like molten honey.

The Seducer was using his power. And it wasn't just affecting the woman he was with... it was starting to affect you.

You felt yourself clench on nothing but air when the ache throbbed against your clit, like an invisible vacuum seal had closed over it, and you lifted your hips off the floor slightly.

Butcher immediately grabbed your hip, bringing you back down forcibly, sending a new wave of heat, of ache, of hurt through your body just at the touch of his bare fingers on your bare hip.

"Don't," he breathed, his word clipped. "Don't do that."

He could feel the heat of you through his shorts, just how impossibly hot you were, probably dripping from the Seducer's power, and the little control he exhibited around you was pulling quite taut.

"It hurts, Butcher," you gritted through your teeth, hands settling on his shoulders for support as another wave of need, of painful, painful need, throbbed through your body like a pulsing nuclear explosion. Your legs tightened around his waist, nails digging into the fabric of his Tommy Bahama. "Make it stop," you pleaded, heaving, throwing your head back, bucking your hips to get the pain to stop. Just stop.

Butcher huffed, cradling your face, his insides in turmoil with his brain. God had given him such a gift right now, a chance to take you, mark you as his, finally fuck that perfect little body--and he didn't know if he was man enough to stop himself.

You groaned in pain, subconsciously grinding your bare pussy against his thigh, searching for any kind of friction, of relief. Your skin was so hot, sweat beading your forehead as you braced through another wave of this unknown ache, throbbing relentlessly against your clit, deep inside you, just grazing your g-spot.

Your fingers balled into fists against his shirt, your face finding his chest, and you sobbed, "Make it stop, Butcher, please, it hurts."

You weren't aware that your hips had started grinding against his thigh, the knee he'd placed between your legs for leverage. And just the fact that he could feel his shorts getting soaked had him straining against the stitches of his sanity.

"There's only one way," he breathed against your ear. You sobbed, heaving, breathing raggedly, grinding so hard on his knee it was almost pathetic. "Are you sure you want to try?" he asked, voice trembling.

You sniffed, hung onto his neck for dear life. "Please, anything, this is--ah--this is unbearable."

He bent his head, mumbled for God to forgive him, and then pressed a deep, hard kiss on your lips, pressing you back into the floor completely. Somewhere above him, he heard a woman moan loudly, but the only thing that registered to him was the way you clung to him like a pawing animal.

A strangled moan, quiet and restrained, left your throat, caught behind your teeth as he ravaged your mouth.

"N-no," you mumbled. "No."

He pulled away, kissing your jaw, your neck until your were humping his thigh like a woman gone mad.

"This the only way, little Truthteller," he murmured in your ear, dragging his knee away and feeling your entire body go stiff against him.

A whine, like delicious music, lifted to his ear and he groaned inwardly. He had to convince himself he was doing it for you, but half of him was delighted at the idea of finally having you. Like a meal he'd been mouth-watering over for some time, and now it was fresh and warm right in front of him.

"I need," you muttered, groaning through another wave of the Seducer's power, your hips bucking into nothing. "I need..."

"You need to cum, little dove," Butcher whispered, caressing the side of your face and you shook your head.

"No."

"Yes, love," he muttered, tracing the line of your neck, down your chest until he softly cupped your breast.

A quiet moan rippled along your throat like a symphony to his ears. He played with your hard nipple through the fabric until he pushed it aside and replaced his thumb with the warmth of his mouth.

"Fuck," you whispered, pushing against his shoulders. "This is wrong." Your voice was so thin.

Butcher lapped at your nipple like an ice cream cone. "Want me to do this to your pretty little pussy?" he mumbled, and the crass words sent a hot wave of need pulsing painfully between your legs.

His other hand skimmed down your side, over the swell of your hip, and down to where you needed him most.

When he swiped a slow finger across your soaked folds, the grunt that left him was purely predatory. "You're so fucking wet," he whispered, to the accompanying sound of your panting. He brushed his thumb across your clit, holding you down as you jolted, flicking his tongue against your nipple.

"Butcher, please," you begged.

"Billy, love," he whispered, raising his head to kiss the corner of your mouth, brushing his thumb against your clit once more to capture your gasp in his kiss. "Call me Billy."

You gripped onto his shoulders, feeling the wide, powerful muscle of his right hand playing with you.

He pressed three fingers flat against you and you bucked, searching for more, as he circled slowly, starting you off.

"Say it," he commanded quietly, circling your clit faster.

"Billy," it came out as a whine and he groaned lowly, capturing your lips and kissing down your throat. The way his fingers played you like a harp wrenched a pornographic moan from your throat and immediately, Billy put a hand over your mouth, the skin between his thumb and forefinger snug under your nose.

"Quiet for me, little Truthteller," he whispered.

He moved his fingers to your entrance and slipped one in so easily it was almost embarrassing. He cooed at you, gliding his finger in and out so slowly it was almost arrogant. "So fucking wet, this perfect little hole."

You keened, squeezing your eyes shut at his crude words, searching for more friction until the heel of his hand pressed snuggly against your clit.

Your hips moved on their own, bucking against his hand as he pumped his finger, faster and faster until your pants turned into hyperventilating and your legs started to close around his hips.

"Got my whole hand drenched, pretty love," he whispered. "That perfect little cunt can handle another finger?"

You preened against his hand, your sounds muffled against his large, meaty palm and he chuckled at you.

The second finger was a tighter fit, his thick digits spreading you and squelching into you slowly.

"Ah, there's my girl," he moaned in your ear. "Fucking my fingers like a good girl."

You wanted to tell him to quit teasing, to bring you to orgasm as quickly as possible because the heat stirring under your skin was insatiable, but you didn't understand how much Billy was enjoying himself. He didn't know when he'd get a chance to have you so willingly spread open for him again, or if he'd ever get the chance again. So he savored this moment like a dying man's last meal.

He let you adjust to his fingers, fucking them into you, palming your clit before he thrust in another finger, opening you wide to him. You gurgled against his hand, muffled moans and pleas stuck behind his palm.

He didn't miss just how tight you were around his fingers, how snug and warm. "So tight, my little love," he cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out slowly, enjoying the way your hips bucked.

The sloppy sounds of your cunt sucking on his fingers drove you mad and a hot, painful knot formed in your belly, pulling and tugging at your insides.

He felt you trembling, your orgasm on the horizon, and he lifted his hand off your mouth, capturing your lips in a warm, sloppy kiss.

"Want you to cum with my name in your mouth," he mumbled, almost incoherent in his chase for your climax. He pressed his thumb to your mouth, opening it, listening to your panting, your quiet moans as he fucked his fingers into your cunt, pressing down on your clit, rubbing it with his palm.

"Billy," you breathed. "Billy. Billy." Like a mantra, a prayer.

"That's it, my pretty girl," he whispered, thumb on your tongue, fingers fucking your pussy until that knot in your bely tightened impossibly and your legs went numb. "Cum my pretty dove, gush all over my hand, come on now."

He grunted against you, and somehow, that guttural, manly sound made stars explode in your belly and you came, shuddering his name quietly, over and over and over until the pleasure had seeped out of your veins and you crumbled back to the floor. You felt his fingers slip out of you, his wet hand pull your knee apart, press against the meat of your thigh, spreading you wide, wide open.

He slithered down your body like a snake, pushing you up against the confines of this box until you felt the warm breath of him against your clit. When he lapped at you, humming around your hole like a satiated man, you mumbled his name, searching with your hands until you grabbed onto the thick strands of his hair. Panting, you mumbled his name again.

"Just having a taste, love," he mumbled, sucking on your over-sensitive clit until the heat came blasting through you again, all over, like you were under the Seducer's spell again.

"Fuck," you gritted, biting your lip, caging in the awfully loud, guttural moan that wanted to spring free.

Billy grabbed onto your hips, holding them down, his forearm over your belly like an anchor.

"One more, little Truthteller," he mumbled, flicking your clit with his tongue, his beard scraping on the inside of your sensitive thighs.

"Billy, please," you whined softly.

"Always wanted a taste," he said. Not a lie. "Always wanted to tongue-fuck this perfect hole." Not a lie.

He pressed his tongue flat to your clit, sucked and nibbled on it until he pressed his tongue right into your cunt, fucking you with his tongue like he'd promised. The mix of his hot breath, his tongue inside your walls, his thumb working on your clit made all your senses flush full of adrenaline. Bucking against his face, you rode his mouth until another flash burst through you and you came all over his face, grinding down on his nose until the last waves of your orgasm had left you.

When he climbed back over, kissing your belly, your nipple, covering you with his warmth, you were just a numb shell of the girl you were when you walked in here.

Billy kissed your jaw, your neck, stroking your hair as you regained your senses.

Whoever had been overhead had gone. It was completely silent. And it left you wondering if that last wave of need had been the Seducer's spell or Billy's.

"We should go, love," he whispered. "Before I stuff you full of my cock and have you cumming on it for the third time."

His filthy mouth brought you back to your body, cold and sweaty and oh so comfortable with two orgasm singing in your veins.

"Yeah," you whispered as Billy pushed the trap door open, peaking out to make sure the coast was clear, and then hopping out. He helped you out with his hand, gentle and calm, smoothing down your hair, covering your nipple, patting down your two-inch skirt.

"I've made a real good mess of you, love, eh?" he chuckled, standing and taking your hand. "Was I a good pet?"

[kaleldobrev]

Adventures in Babysitting

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader; Past William Butcher x F. Supe!Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, William Butcher, Soldier Boy/Ben & Hughie Campbell

Summary: The last thing you wanted was to babysit Soldier Boy — but here you are.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Cursing (23x), Offensive/Derogatory Language, Smut (P in V, Fingering, Unprotected Sex), Supe Shaming & Implied Drug Use

Authors Note: Even though I’m used to writing smut, I’m a little rusty, so apologies if this is not up to snuff with the other times I have written smut | I’ve been on such a Ben kick lately, hope y’all don’t mind! | MDNI — 18+ ONLY PLEASE | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

"Why am I the one that has to fucking babysit him?" You whispered yelled at Butcher, not trying to be remotely quiet in the process.

Butcher looked at you, and let out a small chuckle. "Cause Princess, you're the only one of us that, that Radioactive Cunt actually listens to. 'Sides, you're one of his kind."

You huffed. Like I had a fucking choice in the matter, you thought. "But you and Hughie are already going to be taking Temp V to go on your little suicide mission," you said, now raising your arms out of pure frustration. Your reaction and comment lead Butcher to just simply laugh.

"We ain't wastin' Temp V looking after him when you already got some in ya," he winked, giving your shoulder a little bump. "Sides, don't think your power is gonna be real useful for this."

It was now your turn to raise a brow and chuckle. "You don't think that my power of life draining people to the point of death isn't useful in this situation?"

"When I have laser eyes and Hughie can teleport? No. Our powers aren't hands on unlike yours," Butcher said.

"Now your power shaming me?" You scoffed, crossing your arms. "That's low Butch, especially after all the fucking times I've saved your British ass."

"Be mad at me all you want Princess, you're staying here," Butcher said, as he picked up his duffel bag. "I'll make it up to ya," he winked, and all you did was give him a disgusted look. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said, his tone a little bit more cheerful than it had been previously.

As Butcher walked out the door, you huffed. "Un-fucking-believable," you mumbled. You walked over to the couch and sat down, still keeping your arms folded as you slumped down and stared at the floor, slightly grinding your teeth.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ben asked, strolling into the room from the bathroom.

You glared at him, still with the look of death. "You. You're my fucking problem," your words coming off a lot harsher than you had intended them to sound. But you were pissed, and maybe a little bit jealous. Before Hughie came along, it was always the Y/N and Butcher Show, but now, it was the Hughie and Butcher Show. You felt slightly betrayed and felt like you had lost your best friend.

Ben looked at you with a confused look, his eye brows furrowed. "What the fuck did I do? I was in the fucking bathroom."

"You exist, that's why," you huffed, still with your arms crossed, barely looking at him as you answered.

"What's up with this fucking hot and cold shit uh? When I first met you, you were ready to hop on my cock, no questions asked, and now you wish I didn't exist?" Ben's reaction was one that you weren't expecting from him. You were expecting him to have some kind of sassy remark like 'Fuck you,' or 'Same here,' but not this time. This time, he almost seemed genuinely hurt that you told him that, even if you didn't really mean it.

In reality, you genuinely did like Ben; and really didn't have an actual problem with him. The only problem that you did have with him, was that he was too similar to you, and that honestly scared you sometimes.

"I'm just pissed okay?" You answered, your tone a little bit calmer now. You uncrossed your arms and let out a giant sigh.

Ben walked over to you, and sat next to you. "Do you...I can't believe I'm asking but...Do you want to...talk...about...it?" His words sounding almost as if he actually cared about what you had to say.

"No," your voice short. "I rather do something else," you continued. You finally looked him in the eyes now, and he looked at you with the same kind of confused look he had looked at you previously with.

"Yeah?" He asked, as you placed your hand on his thigh. He looked down at your hand, and then looked back up at you. "Don't start something you won't finish Sweetheart," he asked.

You didn't say anything but kept eye contact with him as you got up from the couch. "Where you goin' Sweetheart?" He asked, watching your every movement. But you remained silent; the only reaction you had was your facial expression. The death glare you had previously, was now replaced with that of slight lust.

As you stared at him, your fingers went on either side of your hips and went in the inside of your shorts. You started to slowly shimmy them down, maintaining eye contact with him as you did so. "Fucking tease," he mumbled. His comment caused you to smirk.

Once your shorts and underwear were completely off, they fell into a puddle at your feet, and you stepped out of them. You walked back to Ben and sat on his lap; your knees on either side of his legs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Without hesitation, his hands found your back and went inside of your shirt where they stopped mid-back. "No bra?" He smirked.

"I think they're rather inconvenient don't you think?" You asked in a whisper.

"I think so," he agreed. "You know what else is?"

"What?" You asked.

"This." In one swift movement, he lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it into the floor half-way across the room, leaving you completely naked on top of you — a sight that he's been dreaming about since the second he laid his eyes on you.

Once your shirt was off, you cupped his cheeks and pulled him in close to you, crashing your lips against his. You didn't mean to be so gentle with him, as you knew he could handle rough, but there was just something about him, about this situation that had wanted you to take things weirdly slow with him, instead of the usual rushed sex you were so used to having with Butcher.

Your body rocked against him, and his hands were squeezing your sides to the point that you could feel a slight amount of pain — the good kind of pain, and you let out a tiny moan. His lips moved to your neck, and you shut your eyes, loving the way his lips and tongue felt against your skin.

He nipped every so often on your skin, intending to leave bruises; but it would be a little hard to, given that you were also a Supe, but he was going to try nonetheless.

"Ben," you moaned, when he finally reached the space in-between your breasts. You felt him smirk against your skin. As if it were second nature, your hands found the back of his head, and you started almost massaging his scalp, twisting his hair between your fingers.

His hands moved from behind your back, and you missed the feeling of that warmness against you. But you were more than happy with where they were currently going. Without looking down, and keeping his mouth on yours, a few of his fingertips brushed up against your clit, and your breath hitched. He was barely touching you, and yet, you felt yourself starting to form into a puddle.

Ben couldn't help but widen his smirk as he touched you. He loved how wet you were for him, and he had barely touched you. "You like Sweetheart?" He asked against your lips, as he slowly started to slip one of his fingers slowly inside of you. It was his turn to tease you now.

Your breath hitched again, and he knew he had you. He slipped another finger inside of you, and he pumped his two fingers slowly in and out of you, knowing that this felt like torture for you. It might of felt like torture for you, but he wanted to enjoy this, because he didn't know if he would ever have this chance again.

You were hot and cold with him. One minute you were flirting with him, and the next you were calling him an asshole. But in either scenario, he couldn't help but imagine what you sounded like moaning his name, or how you would look as he fucked you.

"So fucking wet for me," he mumbled against your jaw. His fingers not picking up the pace in the slightest. You loved and hated what he was doing.

"Only for you," you whispered; your voice sounding blissful. "Ben...please..." you begged.

"Please what?" He asked, nipping at your neck.

"Make me come," you said, still in that same blissful tone.

"Mm, with pleasure," he replied. Without a second thought, his two fingers started to pump in and out of you a bit faster than they had been previously. As he pumped his fingers in and out of you, you rocked against them, trying to add more pressure and trying to get that quick release that you had been longing for.

Within seconds, you found yourself coming against his fingers. Letting out a moan, it became muffled as his lips found yours again. You moaned into his mouth; and you could his cock started to getting harder, which caused you to start smirking against his lips now.

Once you rid out your orgasm, he removed his fingers from you, and stuck them into his mouth; smirking as he did so. "I'll never get tired of that," he said.

You were on your back now, your left leg over Ben's shoulder, and the tip of his cock lining up to your entrance. If you were being honest with yourself, you were slightly nervous, but you were also excited about the feeling. "You ready for me Sweetheart?" he grinned, and you nodded.

Without anymore hesitation, he started to press the tip of his cock inside of you. You were slightly surprised at how gentle and slow he was being, as it was something that you weren't expecting from someone like him.

The farther he pressed his cock inside of you, the fuller you started to feel; a feeling that you couldn't help but moan to. "Fuck," you breathed out.

"I've heard a lot of women moaning in my life, but yours...fuck, it's like music to my ears," he smirked. "The sweetest I've ever heard." His weird compliment oddly made you feel good.

Once he was fully inside of you, the look on his face was that of pure delight, and you couldn't help but slightly chuckle. "Is it everything you hoped for?" You slightly joked.

"Better," he grinned.

He started out slow and gentle like he had been, almost as if he was cherishing the feeling. There was a part of you that was enjoying it, as you weren't used to a slow and gentle kind of sex; but the other part of you wanted him to speed up, as you knew the both of you would be able to handle the slight roughness.

The sounds of soft moans and grunts filled the room, but every so often they were muffled when you or Ben kissed the other. "You have no fucking clue how long I've wanted to fuck you," he whispered against your lips.

"I think I have an idea," you whispered back. Probably just as long, or longer than I have, you wanted to say.

"You feel so fucking good Sweetheart," he whispered again. He started kissing down your jaw again, and stopped at your neck, nipping at the skin once more. Still no marks, he thought. Disappointing.

As he continued to move in and out of you, you started to feel the slight pressure building and building, and you knew you were close. You were excited for the release, but didn't want the closeness that you were currently feeling with Ben to end. "I'm so close," you said, your words slightly breathy sounding.

"Already?" He grinned. Good, he thought. With a few more quick pumps, you found yourself coming around his cock; pure bliss and pleasure leaving your body. You moaned loudly as you came, and you didn't have to open your eyes to look at Ben to know how much he was enjoying seeing you like this.

As you came down from your high, the short breather that you had was simply that — short, as Ben started coming inside of you, which only reignited your high.

Ben pulled himself out of you, and you removed your slightly limp leg from his shoulder. “Come here,” he said, and you furrowed your brow in confused. “I said come here,” he repeated, with outstretched arms.

Before you could move, he rolled his eyes and brought you to himself, not liking the slowness that you were currently doing. When he pulled you close to him, he brought you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you; your head tucked underneath his chin. “Would have never pegged you as a cuddler,” you teased.

“I spent almost forty fucking years without skin to skin contact, humor me,” he said.

He was touch starved, you thought, and you swore that your heart broke just a little bit.

Half A Day Later…

You and Ben were on the couch together, your legs in his lap while his hands were on your bare thighs; his fingertips mindlessly tracing circles on them. There was an almost empty bottle of Jack between you that you had been sharing, along with a joint. The scene looked both romantic and casual — it felt nice.

"You know, I never messed up any of my lines in this movie," Ben noted, pointing at the screen with the bottle of Jack. "Unlike fucking Gunpowder," he mumbled, sounding slightly annoyed.

"He was like what fourteen and it was his first movie? Is that supposed to impress me?" You asked, raising a brow.

"Well ye—" but his sentence was cut off when the motel door abruptly swung open.

"Evening Cunts," Butcher said, his face and clothes splattered in blood.

"How'd the mission go? I see neither one of you are dead," you said, once Hughie entered the room, he too was covered in blood.

"We won," Butcher grinned, tossing his duffel bag onto the floor which sounded a lot heavier than it had been previously when he left much earlier in the day.

"How'd it go here?" Hughie asked. "I'm sorry we didn't bring you," his statement sounding genuine.

"No worries," you replied, trying your best to keep the slight jealousy that you had from showing. "It went fine here."

"I'd say more than fine," Butcher said, his tone slightly teasing and a little jealous sounding in nature as he pointed at your neck.

Your eye brows furrowed, and you lifted up your phone, turning the camera toward you. "Son of a Bitch," you mumbled, as you saw a few purpleish bruises on your neck. Hickeys, great, you thought.

Ben turned toward you now, turning your head to face him so he could admire his handiwork that he worked so hard on. "Well look at that," he grinned, slightly impressed with himself. "Ever make those kind of marks on her?" He asked, smirking in Butcher's direction.

Tag List: @savagemickey03 | @deanbrainrotwritings | @rachiem4-blog | @syrma-sensei | @justletmereadfanfic | @deans-daydream | @midorimachisenpaii | @anamiad00msday | @k-slla | @mrlonelycat | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @ladysparkles78 | @jackles010378 | @zepskies | @roseblue373 | @mrsjenniferwinchester | @globetrotter28 | @missscarlettangel | @foxyjwls007 | @nancymcl | @jacklesbrainworms | @beansproutmafia | @uncle-eggy | @zombie-freak | @queenie32 | @grx-deanslovr | @livingordeadwhoknows | @ficmesideways | @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 15

content warning: more angst, mentions of food, mentions of underage drinking and recreational drug use, some suggestive convos but nothing too crazy

word count: 6.4k (@slushycoookie thee wife, thee beta 🩵)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

“Does it show anything different?”

“Will you give me a second?”

GymRat!Miguel who was currently sitting at his desk, bouncing his leg while he waited for Tempest to tell him something good.

“It’s honestly looking like the same thing from last night. And the week before. And the week before that,” she deadpans through the phone.

Miguel turned and pressed his lips to his palm.

His call list was a constant cycle between his friends back home and Gabriel, but mostly Tempest, who has taken the role of checking for any updates from you online.

So far, all he’s gotten out of this was pain. You’ve completely removed anything that involved him from your pages. No anniversary pics, no highlights, no emojis in your bio to refer to him. From how Tempest put it, this was a huge deal.

“Look,” Miguel slumped as he geared himself up to listen to the same speech she’d been repeating. “I know you don’t want to hear this- don’t make that face! - but I think it’s time to give up or try something new.”

“It’s been forever.”

“If your definition of forever is a little over two weeks, then sure!”

“I just thought that,” he paused, mulling over the words in his head.

“That she would bend at your will? You’re cute, but not that cute.”

“No, that’s not- Temp,” Miguel whined. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

She snorted, “Uh huh. Which is why we’re stalking her page like weirdos.”

“If the roles were flipped, I would be doing the same for you. I have done the same for you.”

“Touché.”

Miguel remembered Tempest spiraling over girls she thought was the one, the two of them huddled up over the phone watching as they all moved onto the next.

He sat beside her and reminded himself never to get this way. He perked up like a flower soaking up the sun every time there was an inch of hope, which truly rivaled how Tempest acted.

“I was just thinking that today would be different. Maybe she would think about me today.”

The thought sits in the air, Tempest’s face shifting to one of sad understanding.

“Not trying to feed your delusions, but maybe she hasn’t stopped thinking about you.”

Miguel looked at the screen, a tiny bit optimistic.

“But in all fairness, I wouldn’t want anyone on my page who I thought committed one of the most cruel offenses. I would want to forget everything. You have to see this from her side too.”

Tempest was right, a common state when it came to their friendship. It didn’t stop that ugly rust of selfishness that crowded his heart.

He feels like he’s crying out for you, and you don’t care. A year of being together meant nothing to you.

Saying that out loud was insane, though. It didn’t align with how hurt you looked.

So, he’s been internally fighting the feeling, going from understanding to upset and back again.

“Have you talked to Xina at all?”

“She’s only keeping our conversations about school. And acting like nothing happened.”

“She’s probably embarrassed,” Tempest said. “She got caught this time and doesn’t know what to do.”

“Apologizing could be a start.”

“And that requires admitting she was wrong in the first place, so if you get that, let me know so I can mark the day. I’ll even make a t-shirt.”

The sigh that left Miguel was strong enough to irritate Tempest’s speakers.

He wanted to talk to her about the situation again, but it was like talking with a brick wall. It reminded him of when he snapped at her for constantly hitting him when they were younger. Looking back, they were just kids, and she probably didn’t mean anything by it. The red tint and angry pout on her face as she slid him her chocolate milk as an apology stuck with him.

“Why do you want an apology anyway? Or, why do you expect one?”

Miguel wasn’t sure himself. Xina was his childhood best friend, someone with whom he spent a lot of time and shared secrets. There were sweet memories and joyful moments.

It sucks to see her act so different.

“I think,” Miguel paused, looking off through his dorm window. “I think that-”

“Oh my god, she just posted.”

Miguel almost dropped his phone while he switched back to the messages app.

“What is it? What is it?”

“It is,” she dragged out her i’s. The sound of Tempest screenshotting and tapping away at her phone was like rapid fire. “An event, I think?”

“What event? You aren’t sending the pictures fast enough.”

“I already pressed send! Not my fault I don’t have high-speed internet.”

“Tell your cousin to stop fucking hogging it.”

“Shut up and watch the screen.”

His eyes dart across the screen as he waits for the screenshare to load.

Your account comes up, still intact. Miguel takes in everything like he did back when he first met you.

There were new posts about the sculptures you made in class and food from a new café. There’s also a glimpse of you smiling, and he feels like he’s ready to erupt.

Tempest refreshed your page again.

“This is so against girl code.”

“You haven’t even talked with her before.”

“How would you know?”

“Temp.”

“Right, sorry.”

She taps your story, and a flyer comes up.

“A Halloween-themed festival night?” Miguel says as the story disappears.

“Sounds fun!”

“I’m going to go. Put the story back up again.”

Tempest side-eyed him as best as she could, “Uh, maybe let’s not.”

“Why can’t I? I’m a member of the student body.”

“Do you usually go to these things?”

“No,” Miguel slowed his words. “But I could now? Maybe she won’t even be there.”

“And if she is? Wouldn’t it seem like you’re stalking her?”

He thinks about the many times he’s lingered around the art building, walked by your favorite spot on campus, and stared at corners of the library that you loved to see if you would be there.

“No?”

“Doubtful.”

“I just need to see her in person.”

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t stop thinking about whether or not you’ll be at the festival.

If he doesn’t see you, he’ll be disappointed, but the panic clawing at his throat won’t shift to his mind.

If he does see you, he’ll be like a fish out of water. Floundering, lost, and begging his lungs to gain its necessities.

He just hopes that going is the right decision.

GymRat!Miguel who goes to his robotics club meetup the next day.

There’s no competition coming up, but the department wanted to revise a moving metal skeleton for Halloween weekend.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Margo. I feel like it, too.”

She pulled his cheek out and made baby noises out of sympathy before Miguel swatted them away.

“Still no luck with your ex? Or is that joint giving you trouble?” she snickered at his sloppy attempt at connecting moving parts.

“Uh, no and yes.”

Aaron peeked up from his station and looked over like a beaver.

“I-it’s not because of what I said, right?”

Margo made a line with her mouth as if to say 'get a load of this guy'.

“No, Aaron,” Miguel mumbled.

“Yeah, Aaron, stop being nosy and get back to work,” Margo joked.

He snapped his welder’s mask back down like a dork and returned to sawing something, sparks flying past him.

Margo looks down at Miguel’s work.

“Well, I hope you can get her back soon because you need to work on your anatomy. Those bones don’t go together at all.”

He looks to a femur and a humerus connected with the sheer will of his clouded mind.

He missed when you attached sticky notes to his body for practice. The prize for getting the different parts of his body correct being kisses. You would laugh at his mistake but give a peck on the lips anyway. His arms were one of your favorite places to put your star-shaped stickers on, too.

“I didn’t mean for you to get even sadder,” Margo snapped him out of the memory.

“It’s fine. My fault.”

Margo shifted her weight as she started to take apart his mistake, “It’ll get better, Miguel. I’m sure of it.”

GymRat!Miguel who sits across from Tyler at one of the uppity restaurants in town. The lights are dim, as if the people eating here are all hiding from something.

“How’s school?” Tyler asked, clothes still managing to glow despite the one warm lamp above the table. He thanks the waitress for refilling his water glass. “Made any new friends? Connections?”

The age-old awkward feeling of trying to concisely describe his growing adult life was at the top of his mind.

“It’s going well,” was always the easiest answer. Simple and open-ended.

Of course, Tyler took this as a sign to delve further.

“Your mother told me you’re taking up game programming this semester. Do you like the feel of that class?”

An ice cube floated to the top of Miguel’s glass.

“I was enjoying it at first, now I’m sort of ready for it to end.”

Tyler cleared his throat, hand covering the frown on his face.

“Ah, well, some people just like the end result, I suppose,” he refolds a napkin, the reflection from his watch panning across the tablecloth. “What about your girlfriend? How is she? Perhaps, you have some new pieces of her’s to show me. My colleagues love the one in the entryway.”

The waiter placed a filet mignon in front of Miguel and bluefin tuna across from him. Tyler moved to tuck the same napkin into his crisp button down.

“I’m not sure.”

Tyler pauses as a slice of fish dangles from his fork.

Miguel is still cutting into the meat unnecessarily, knife scrapping against the plate.

“Son, this cut of meat is like butter,” Tyler said, taking the knife from him and putting it back on its napkin.

A twitch at the corner of his lips almost aligned with Tyler’s. The man racked his brain for the memories of his first son coming home with a similar expression.

He chewed and swallowed his fish stacked with cucumbers and cilantro.

“As you know, I am not the best when it comes to relationships. Nancy and I have had quite the uphill battle. However, I believe I am well-versed in the field of compromise. Should I reach out to her for you?”

It was a long shot, and by the growing shadows on his son’s face, Tyler suspected that his suggestion was a poor one.

“What will that do? Other than show her that I can’t handle my own problems.”

“Surely, you two can work it out. She was lovely, truly,” Tyler frets, afraid he’s made Miguel even more upset.

He just starts to eat, mind elsewhere.

Tyler wondered if he should have ordered some wine.

“When you found out Nancy cheated on you, what did you do?”

Lemon juice from his dish hit his throat right as he swallowed, a hand banging on his chest as he coughed.

“I, uh,” two gulps of water were taken from the glass Miguel handed him. “Well. The fruit of that labor is in front of me.”

“Obviously,” Miguel’s shoulders dropped and Tyler grimaced again. Curse his silly statements. “I meant, how did you feel? What were your initial thoughts?”

“I remember being angry. Here laid the mother of my only child with a much younger and, honestly, less fortunate man. I thought I was foolish to think that my genuine love or money could keep someone.”

Miguel pushed around an asparagus on his plate, “So there was a betrayal. A pain you couldn’t describe.”

“Exactly. For me, that came afterwards. I’m a prideful man. If one thing does not satisfy me, I simply find something that does.”

“And that thing just happened to be my mother?”

“Ah, if you put it like that, it’s far too harsh,” Tyler fixes a cuff. “Your mother provided me a place of warmth, solitude, and love for a short time. It’s something I’ll never forget. I regret the hurt Nancy and I inflicted on each other, but I don’t regret you.”

Tyler watches and waits for a response. His son shifts in his seat and rolls his neck, eyes never leaving his plate.

“Has she,” Tyler tilts his head, “hurt you this way?”

“No, but I broke her trust.”

“You cheated?”

“Never. But we have a lot to work on.”

Tyler might order some bourbon tonight to drink in place of his son and the mopey demeanor.

“I’m all ears whenever you need me. But if there is as much love between you two as I saw earlier this year, then you’re sure to gain in back. That doesn’t go away.”

Miguel takes a deep breath and Tyler believes that some of the shadows on his face disappear.

The meal continued, and the people around them continued their quiet chatter.

“Could you do me a favor?” Miguel asks as they both clean their plates.

Tyler lights up, “Anything.”

“Don’t tell my mom about this?”

Tyler thinks back to the unpleasant things Conchata had to say about her son’s girlfriend and quietly agrees that it’s for the best of she’s out of the loop.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks up to the festival wearing one of the shirts you gave him for his birthday.

It was an impulsive decision because now that he’s here, he’s wondering if seeing it on him will upset you.

The festival is partially outside and inside, a mix of games, concessions, and small rides for students to enjoy.

He walked under the pumpkin and bat-shaped balloons, and fake smoke from a cauldron moved past him.

It smelled like sour candy apples, and marshmallows. Booths were all around the campus grass. He walked past them slowly, not interested but searching for something.

The turnout was nice for a night when he figured people would be out partying. There were a lot of students walking in and out.

A game caught his eye as he neared the entrance to the student center. It’s a Shoot Out booth with the ducks replaced with black cats and the gun switched to tiny ghost bean bags to match the theme. There’s a giant white bunny with an X for lips, a blue dress, and a bow on its ear.

It’s so you that he couldn’t resist.

The student volunteer told him he had three chances this round to knock out twenty cats for the bunny.

“Everyone’s been gunning for it, but this game is pretty hard!”

Miguel nodded in understanding.

If he focused enough, the bunny could be his.

On his first try, he knocked out thirteen cats, much to the volunteer’s surprise.

“Woah! You’re pretty good! Did you wanna grab anything from this tier?”

There was student association merch and a shirt with the college logo.

Miguel rolled his sleeves up, “No, I’m going to try for the plushie again.”

The second time, he knocked down the last cat with just a few seconds left on the timer.

The girl running the booth smiled with her eyebrows nearly merging to the top of her head in shock.

“I-I guess that means you win the bunny!”

She handed it to him with a lull of awe.

He muttered a quiet thanks and turned towards the doors with fake spiderwebs dangling off them.

There was music, a sign to go to a haunted hallway, and even more tables with food.

He wonders if you would have gotten scared walking through scary attractions with him. You would probably hold his hand as tight as he’s holding the belly of this rabbit.

Scanning the room, he doesn’t catch a glimpse of you anywhere.

Looking down at the little white face in his hands, he started to think he wasted the hour or so he’d been here.

Walking to the table of free cookies, he took a frosted Frankenstein in his hand and bit a bolt off.

He felt like a lost kid as he floated from table to table to stall.

Maybe he should give up. You were probably promoting this event for Jess.

GymRat!Miguel who was finishing off his fifth mummy-in-a-blanket when he saw you leaving the haunted hallway.

The first thing he noticed is the long, blue cardigan falling off your shoulders. The end of it is trailing after you as you run out.

There’s a grin on your face and an air in your steps, something he missed seeing.

The next thing he noticed was that you weren’t wearing your necklace anymore.

Then a hand pulled it up on your shoulders and slid back down your arm.

A guy is standing next to you and laughing as if you’ll give him money for doing so.

He’s tall. He looks like he could be built, too.

It’s like a slap in the face, worse than when you pushed him away.

Looking down, Miguel saw your hand in his, clinging tight. You smile at the guy and reach up to get something out of his hair.

Miguel thinks that there was nothing wrong with his hair. There was nothing to smile about either.

The guy’s hands touch you in places where Miguel has embraced. His fingers were covering the same neck he’d put his head in. His thumbs ran over the apples of your cheeks, the same ones that used to crowd his lips.

You lean into the guy’s chest and say something that he can’t hear.

His stomach makes an angry lurch and he feels that orange being shift to a green one. It’s clawing at him, pulling at his mind.

This wasn’t how today was supposed to end. You weren’t supposed to cling to some random guy. You weren’t supposed to be with someone else.

Miguel turns when he leans down towards you, chest burning. What he didn’t see was not true to him. What he didn’t know was not reality.

GymRat!Miguel stormed out of the building, and images of you happy with someone else faded onto the inside of his eyelids.

The material of his sweater was scratching against his skin as he made his way back to the festival entrance.

Everything was too much. The people were too loud, the lamps were too bright, and the music playing over the speakers sucked.

His nose started to twitch and he wondered why did festival food have so much damn sugar.

Someone nearly hits the ground as he pushes past them, a confused noise hitting the air, but he doesn’t feel inclined to stop.

GymRat!Miguel who almost breaks free from what feels like a harmful joke when Xina spots him.

“Hey!” She ran over to him, leaves crunching against her boots. She’s wearing the varsity jacket he bought her years ago. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah, I,” he stopped when he thought he heard your laugh somewhere deep in the festival. “I’m not feeling too good. Think I’m gonna go back to my dorm.”

“Oh, do you have a fever? The weather did drop out of nowhere,” her hand lifted, fingers twitching like she wanted to see for herself.

She hesitates, scared he’ll blow away.

When her fingers press into his neck, he just wants to cry. It felt like when she caught him crying under the trees on the playground or when he’d show up at his grandma’s house with a chubby face full of tears.

He covers her hand for a second, just one, then pushes it away.

If he talks about it, he’ll break into pieces.

“Here,” he shoved the bunny into her hands. The dress is wrinkled, and the bow is a bit lopsided.

Xina’s eyes grow as sees it. The smile on her lips is familiar, “Thank you. I love it.”

Her mouth opens as if she wants to say more, but Miguel starts first.

“Glad you like it. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, ok. Get back safe, Hare-Hare.”

He heads towards his building empty-handed.

GymRat!Miguel who is in denial.

He’s moved past his brain making up you being at the Halloween festival and was now choosing to believe that it was a friend.

The tiny Gabriel on his shoulder was telling him that you had moved on. You had a new boyfriend, so he needed to move on as well—or stop moping about you.

He was choosing to ignore him for now.

It’s been another week since he saw you. Thanksgiving was on its way and he hasn’t been focused in a single class.

At a time when he really needed Tempest to update him, she told him to step back and recenter himself. Something about him not being level-headed.

He didn’t care.

The point of no return was truly here as he stood in front of the elevator in the art building.

A bag of food was sweating in his palm, and the two drinks were seeping into his hoodie, but he would regret it forever if he didn’t try talking to you again before the semester was over.

He’s doing something he told himself he wouldn’t do, but he couldn’t help that he still knew your schedule by heart. Taking a chance on you sticking around for studio hours was all that he had.

GymRat!Miguel who got to the right floor and was happy to see a student leaving the room.

The lights in the hallway were still on and music came from down the hall.

Miguel walked down, peering in every door, leaving once he couldn’t see you or when the people inside gave him weird looks.

GymRat!Miguel who walks into the last studio in the hallway with quiet steps.

Your canvas is almost bigger than you, the top of it covering you as you moved your brush across it.

You had headphones on, star molds stuck on the sides of them.

Miguel sat the food down on the table, moving like a stealthy agent.

Your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, yet paint was still on them despite your efforts. You looked tired, but god, you were still overwhelmingly gorgeous to him.

He stepped closer. Slowly, step by step, coming into your peripheral.

“Why are you here?”

Miguel paused mid-walk, face like a puppy who got caught.

He should have thought this through more.

“I wanted to see you,” he holds his hands before him. It’s not making him any smaller, but it brings a slight comfort. “Brought some food.”

“’M not hungry.”

An apology is his first instinct, but the sound of your stomach growling speaks for him.

You refuse to look at him, face warm.

“It’s your favorite. Come eat, please.”

Taking off your headphones, you sighed.

“Fine.”

GymRat!Miguel who has to pinch himself to stop staring at you.

You weren’t just tired, you were exhausted. Your eyes drooped as you bit into your fries, and your movements were sluggish.

You didn’t ask for his extra sauce like you usually did. You didn’t even try to steal his fries.

“How have you been?” he asks instead of digging himself further into the sad hole of his heart.

Your eyes flick at him over your glasses and back to your food.

“Really, Miguel?”

“Y-yes? I’m always wondering how you are.”

“Then you should know how I’ve been already, then.”

Miguel faltered.

“You’re not very subtle, you know? I could see you pacing back and forth around campus.”

“Oh,” he slurped his drink nervously.

“And I saw you at the festival, too.”

He almost punctured the styrofoam in his hand.

“So, you’ve been fine is what you’re telling me. I’m gla-” he choked on the words. “I see you’ve…met someone.”

“He was just a friend. You could have said ‘hi’ then, if you really wanted to speak with me.”

“Didn’t look like a friend,” left Miguel’s mouth before he could stop it.

You hummed, eyebrows raised, and a click sound from your teeth. “Oh, but now do you see how that feels?” You started to untie your apron.

“I didn’t mean for that to come out in that way. I came here to just talk.”

“About what? How you didn’t actually cheat on me? How you didn’t mean for any of this to happen? How you’re sorry you got caught?”

He bit his tongue.

That was almost what he wanted to say.

“About us,” he said as you rolled your eyes. “I still love you, and it’s killing me not to be with you. This is as plain and simple as I can say it. I’ll say it over and over and over again until you hear me.”

“Miguel,” your voice puffed out, weary and broken, “you cheated on me with your best friend and now you’re here trying to spin this and pull me back. I-I have dignity. As much as I want to pretend like what’s been happening this semester is meaningless, I can’t.”

“And I’m telling you that I would never do that you. Not in a million years, not in this lifetime, would I ever purposely hurt you in that way. Baby, please. Listen to me!”

“I see the way you are with her,” your words fall after his. “I remember the texts. There is something there. I don’t know if I can compete with that and I’m not trying to. So, if you want to be with her, then do that, but leave me out of it.”

Miguel is quick to grab your hands as you try to turn away, “Fine. There is something there.”

You try to yank yourself from him again, the pain from October 13th filling you again, but his hands are faster this time.

“There’s a girl who used to threaten to beat me up if I didn’t defend myself against bullies. There’s a girl who used to trade collectible cards with me in secret because her parents didn’t allow her to obsess over junk, and the girls at school thought it was lame. There’s a trust built long over a decade that has been broken. I do care about her, as I would do with any friend, but you have to understand that I care about you, too.”

“Then why didn’t you show that?” you whispered, tears leaving your eyes. “It felt humiliating, Miguel. That night, I felt disgusting. Like you were just throwing me away. I kept thinking that you lied to me about everything, that you were indulging in something that you never really wanted.”

Miguel reached to hold your face, thumbs sliding your tears away, heart breaking.

“Lo siento, amor. Hm?” he wanted to take your pain away and place it onto himself if it meant that you didn’t talk like this. “It’s not true. What we have created is not some trial run. I love you so deeply, that I was going insane. Knowing that you thought otherwise is painful to hear. The buildup to that night is a misunderstanding. You have to know that.”

You take a breath, “How could I know?”

Miguel stared at your face and thought the same.

He’s been yelling trust, trust, trust and when he thinks back to your few interactions with Xina, it clicks that you truly had no foundation to trust.

“If I had just been better, you would have known.”

Like you said, Xina had walked all over him.

“So what now?” you asked, and pull your sweater over your fingers.

Miguel blinked, “I was hoping to start over? Restart?”

“I can’t,” you said immediately and Miguel tensed. “You entering my life has given me far more ups than downs, but when those downs come, they can be brutal.”

“So, you don’t want me to be your boyfriend, again?”

You shake your head and he felt like it was his turn to cry.

“I want action. Show me that something like this won’t happen again. We can sit here and tell each other promises until we’re blue in the face, but what do those promises mean if one person or thing can ruin it.”

“I’ll do that. I’ll do anything.”

You brush his hair back and wrap his arms around your waist to settle in this feeling. Your thumbs traveled from his hairline to curves of his ears down to his jaw. They rub circles into his skin, slow and rhythmic.

“Have you talked with Xina? Has she confessed to what you’re telling me she has done?”

He shakes his head softly, afraid to break the scene.

You laugh, small and quiet, then unwrap his arms from around you. You go back to your canvas and start to scrape at the glass of the taboret. Miguel was so in a trance, that almost didn’t notice the switch.

“I’m going to talk with her,” Miguel stated across the room.

You wave a hand in the air, unmoved.

He followed you as you go to the mineral spirits bucket to soak your brushes.

“Baby-“

“As far as I’m concerned, you shouldn’t talk to me until whatever you two have going on is fixed. Don’t know who 'baby' is.”

You walk to the sink and turn the water on. Miguel was right behind you and grabbing the dish soap before you can.

“And I will talk to her,” Miguel sayid. You reach for the soap and he holds it out of your reach, petulant. “Baby.”

You give him an irritated look and pinch his neck. He makes a hurt noise and gives you the jug.

“Action. Miguel.”

GymRat!Miguel who waited until you’ve packed everything up.

He didn’t mean for this to turn into him teasing you, but he couldn’t help it. He was getting his fill while he still could.

“At least let me walk you back to your dorm,” Miguel sayid, picking up the wet paper towels you’ve been throwing at him.

“No, thanks. I have a date. I don’t need you changing up my energy.”

Miguel’s smile dropped.

“You do?”

“His name starts with an R, ends with an E. He’s super sweet. Sturdy.”

Reese? Reggie? Raye? Ronnie?

“I see,” Miguel’s heart plummets. “Your friend wasn’t just that.”

“Mm-hm. We’re still testing the waters, but I don’t think he’ll disappoint me.”

Miguel didn’t know what to say. He was nothing but bold, though.

“Who’s to say that…guy won’t hurt you?”

Who’s to say that he would treat you better than Miguel?

You pull the straps of your back over your shoulders and Miguel wants to hold it for you.

A snicker leaves you, “Because he’s made of plastic and is designed of pleasure.”

“Oh.”

“Bye. Enjoy your Thanksgiving.”

Miguel stood and watched you go, wondering if this was progress.

GymRat!Miguel whose bedroom was filled with the chatter of his friends once more.

Friendsgiving was always fun.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks that Lyla is a terrible teammate.

“You’ve got be doing this on purpose,” Miguel groaned as Lyla’s Yoshi pumps the pedal incorrectly.

“I don’t know what you’s talking about!” Her giggles float across the room as saw Miguel get more and more frustrated.

Winston and Tempest were laser-focused, their Monty Mole and Peach following a stead 1-2 rhythm to get their cart across the track.

“Lyla!” Miguel yells as her Yoshi stumbles back. “You’re selling me. You want me to lose.”

The mini-game ends with Tempest and Winston high-fiving each other and Miguel yelling at Bowser to pick his head up.

GymRat!Miguel who laughed as he watched Winston reenact his band director, nearly breaking his neck.

“I’ve never seen a bald man somersault on grass until that day.”

GymRat!Miguel who, full off of food and peach cobbler that Tempest made, stared at the bag of gummies that she placed in the middle of their huddle.

“We can just try this tonight. We’re safe with each other,” Tempest whispered.

“You guys are horrible role models,” Miguel said.

“I don’t know. That blue one is speaking to me. It reminds me of Scooby Doo,” Winston mumbled.

Lyla motioned across one, “Maybe we can cut it in half.”

“That defeats the purpose though. These barely have anything in them,” Tempest complained.

“Says you,” Miguel quipped. “You just called me about a cherry bong the other night.”

“Ok, but wasn’t it cute?”

GymRat!Miguel who nearly jumped out his skin when his door slams open.

Everyone except him shoves their gummy in their mouth with lightening speed. Miguel just holds his awkwardly as he turns to see him mom standing in the doorway.

“Yeah, ma?” he says. He chose to ignore Winston who is over exaggerating, lips smacking.

“Mijo! I have a surprise for you guys!”

GymRat!Miguel who sat awkwardly on his rug, running his wrapped gummy in his palm.

Lyla was practically in Tempest’s lap, tapping at her phone. Tempest is looking around their circle expectantly.

Winston started tapping a fast beat on his arm.

Miguel is looking everywhere except in front of him where Xina was sitting with her chin tucked into her knees.

“It’s good to see you again,” Winston said, forever the peacemaker.

Xina relaxed a bit, “You guys, too. I’ve missed this.”

Miguel saw Tempest softening up a bit at Xina’s words.

“When is stuff gonna hit?” Lyla barks out to which Tempest elbows her.

Xina cleared her throat, “Actually can we talk, Miguel?”

“Yeah, shoot.”

Xina looked around them, “Alone?”

GymRat!Miguel who was standing across from Xina in the office-turned-bedroom that his parents barely used.

“Did my mom invite you?” Miguel asked.

“Actually, Tempest did.”

Miguel raises his eyebrows and nods. He didn’t expect that but he’s not mad at it.

Xina was antsy, arms hiding themselves in the sleeves folded across her body. Miguel stayed quiet.

“So, things between us haven’t been exactly smooth sailing lately.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Miguel looked down at the shark slippers you bought him last year.

“And I have some things that I want to explain to you.”

Miguel raised his eyes expectantly. Xina was mirroring his posture, but her face looked uncomfortable, conflicted.

Her eyes flicker over his before she covered her face and huffs, “这太难了.” (This is so hard.)

“What’s hard?” Miguel asks, pulling together the few times Xina taught him anything. He sat down, hoping it would relax her more.

Her hands drop as she blinks at the ceiling, “Everything. When it comes to you, everything just gets overwhelming.”

“As in?”

She looked at him in disbelief, “As in I’m doing silly shit, again.”

A pause in her words comes as they hear laughter from down the hall.

“Last year was so surreal. I did everything right. My mailbox was full of acceptance letters. My mom finally genuinely smiled at me for the first time in what felt like years. I moved so far away from my parents that I felt like that string that kept me attached to them had broken. I had fun. I went to my first party and got so drunk that when I woke up, I was on the porch of a frat. I made friends who could relate to me more than anyone else. I made acquaintances who could have never gotten into that school without their parents painting the campus with money. Still, I worked my ass off and got kicked out because one of them hid drugs under my seat.”

Miguel’s breath hitched, but Xina continued.

“It was my word against kids whose parents could have the school shut down within minutes. My dad was so angry at me that he pretended like I wasn’t in his home. And my mom just,” her leg started to bounce. “She helped me pack up some things and sent me to go live with my aunt for the summer. It wasn’t until she dropped me off at the airport that whispered to me that she loved me. That she was proud of me. That it was ok to make mistakes.”

“I cried like a baby for half of the flight. And it wasn’t until I got to customs that I realized that I should have called you. You always knew what to tell me no matter what the situation was and I just disappeared. Everything came back tenfold and I missed you so much. So when I saw you again, it was like I fell back into my old habits. I thought ‘I’m finally going to do it!’ but would chicken out and relieve that stress. I was kind of hoping that my tipsy self would have more confidence.”

“Because a drunk tongue speaks a sober mind?” Miguel hummed.

Xina finally laughed, “Are you 40 or something? Yeah. Exactly.”

Miguel blinked and looked up at her, “So tell me what your sober mind wants to say, Xina.”

Xina’s eyes lowered, “That I. I feel like I lose myself when I’m around you. It’s why I acted the way I did. It’s why I overstepped.”

His heart picked up as he registered her words.

“I like you so much, Miguel. More than I can bear. More than I’d like to admit. More than a friend.”

dividers by: @adornedwithlight 🩵

a/n: Please don't be mad at me. 😵‍💫 Also please watch your tone in the comments. 🤠 Be very mindful, very demure.

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[imaginemalereader]

Anonymous request: Imagine dating Will and him taking care of you when you get sick

"Will, honestly, it's just," you paused as you felt a sneeze coming on, "a cold." You managed to finish your sentence before sneezing loudly.

Will was clearly hearing none of your protests. He had gone full doctor mode, in spite of the fact that you were so certain this was nothing more than the common cold.

He pressed his hand to your forehead, for probably the fifth time in the last hour.

"Your temp's a little elevated." He said. You could have sworn he was making a chart on his phone.

"Maybe my head's warm because you keep touching it." You retorted.

Will gave you a look. The head tilt, raised eyebrow look that was clearly meant to ask 'which one of us has a medical degree?' It was cute, albeit slightly condescending, not that you could really mind.

"Okay, okay." You relented a little before reaching out and holding his hand. "Will," you said, drawing his attention and finally getting him to look you in the eyes as a partner and not as a doctor, "I appreciate you taking care of me, but you can relax a little. I promise."

Will searched your eyes before giving that cute little smile of his and nodding a little.

"I'll make you a deal," he said, "you let me take your temperature, get a new box of tissues out here, and get you some cough drops,"

"This better have a good deal for me at the end." You interrupted as he listed what he wanted to do. He smiled again before continuing.

"Then you can pick whatever show you want to watch, and I will sit here on the couch with you and offer no medical advice unless you ask for it."

That was a pretty tempting deal. Will had needed to give you some space the first day you were sick since he had to work and he couldn't very well be bringing a cold into the ED. But, he had tomorrow off and was not apparently willing to risk the germs.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said decisively.

"Good. Don't go anywhere." He said, standing up to go get his supplies.

"Uh-huh, right. I'm a real Usain Bolt right now." You said, looking down at your sprawled position on the couch, wrapped comfortably and messily in a blanket or possibly two (you weren't sure at this point).

Will chuckled at your response as he walked away. He did what seemed to be a larger lap of the apartment than necessary but he was soon back with the new tissues, a whole bag of cough drops, a thermometer, and something he was hiding behind his back.

"Will, what's that?" You asked.

"Don't worry about it." He said with a little smirk. "Now open up."

Your curiosity piqued, there was nothing to do but comply at the moment. You opened your mouth and Will put the thermometer in, letting you hold it in place. Shortly, it beeped and Will took it out to read.

"99.1." He said. "I guess it isn't that elevated."

"See, told you."

"You did, you were right." He conceded, much to your pleasure.

"So, are you going to show me what it is you're hiding?" You asked.

Will brought his hand forward as he sat down on the couch next to you, offering you a box of your favorite crackers he must have grabbed from the pantry.

"I know you haven't been that hungry, but I thought you could use a snack."

You smiled up at him gratefully. It was really sweet that he'd thought of that actually. And given that you hadn't been off the couch in a few hours, you were in fact in need of some food.

"Aw, thanks Will." You said, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "You're a good boyfriend."

"So are you." He said, kissing your forehead. "But you do make a terrible patient."

"Yeah well I hear you do too."

Will shook his head, even though he couldn't deny it and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close to him. Maybe he was a little overly cautious with you, but it was always better to be safe than sorry, especially when it came to you. It wasn't like he could let his medical skills go to waste, even if you did have something as minor as a cold.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

What the Workers See

I wanted to write Hyena!Danny at work as Hood's second in command.

Hyena!Danny Masterpost

tw: physical abuse

Jason had been delighted when Danny had presented him the ideas for his Hyena costume, helping him sort out the details and reminding him to add armour. Danny had argued he’d heal anyways so there wasn’t any point, and surely the armour would make it less sexy! Jason had just rolled his eyes and reminded Danny that he was trying to keep his powers secret, and if Nightwing could look like that in his heavily armoured suit Danny would be fine.��

He had sighed and relented, asking for help to get some of the materials he would need, which Jason happily provided. Danny worked on it in their free time, and Jason watched with fascination as Danny’s nimble fingers and equally quick mind fingered out the construction and problem-solved any roadblocks. It was impressive, and when it got to the try on stage most of them ended with the suit on their bedroom floor by the end, Jason just loved it. He particularly loved the choice of the collar.

One rational corner of his mind mentioned he should probably talk to Danny about the power imbalance and the fact that Jason was definitely possessive and abusive. But the other half of his mind fucking purred at the sight of Danny in the collar and catsuit and that part won out, Jason didn’t mention it. 

When it was finally time to unveil Hyena Jason called a meeting of all his goons. The ones that worked for him consistently, not the villain hoppers or the temp workers, they’d find out eventually. If he called everyone who worked for him sometimes he’d need a fucking football field, this would do. As he knew they would they all came, gathering and mingling in the warehouse in front of the makeshift stage.

Jason hopped up onto it about ten minutes after the time he’d told everyone to be there, once he was sure everyone who was coming was here, and Danny was here. “I know you’re all nervous about why the fuck I called you all here. First off let me assure you it’s nothing bad and not a fucking scheme. I have an important introduction and an announcement.” He said and made a hand signal.

Danny, the dramatic bastard that he was dropped down from the rafters and landed on overly light feed on the stage. He grinned behind his muzzle and made a little ‘tada!’ motion that made Hood role his eyes fondly. 

“This is Hyena. He will be working with me from now on. If I am not here you take orders from him in my place, obey him like you would me.” He explained and Hyena gave a dramatic little bow and a cackling laugh. “Is that understood?”

“Yes Boss,” People chorused, looking a little nervous and curious about the new person still. Hyena would have to do some work earning their respect and trust but Jason knew that Danny was more then up for the task. 

---------

As the fighting wound down Jason looked over the damage. It wasn't to bad, but it was so fucking unnecessary, there shouldn't have Been another gang trying to operate out of his territory, under his fucking nose! Did they really think he wouldn't notice? They should have just left when he confronted them, not actually initiated a fight! Now they had bodies to deal with, of those who didn't run, and a bunch of injured people.

A loud whistle made Jason jump slightly before he glanced over to Hyena, who was taking charge. He beckoned a couple field medics forward and cupped his hands around his muzzle to yell over the crowed. 

"If You'd rather go to a real hospital clear out! you need stitches line up here, if you need a bone set, line up there," Hyena directed before glancing around as people straggled into lines. Not many left to go to a actual hospital, in Gotham people tended to be suspicious of doctors, and field medics got a Lot of practice.

"You two!" Danny pointed at two goons who jumped. "You're unhurt, I saw you hide when the fighting got bad. You carry anyone who can't wait in line to the front for emergency care, then we'll talk about reassigning you."

Jason hadn't noticed that, but he was usually too caught up in the fight once blood started to spill so that wasn't Overly surprising. He was grateful Danny had. 

The two singled out looked sheepish and started to obey Danny's commands, checking on those on the ground and either dragging the dead to one side or carrying the living over to Hyena and the other medics. Danny grabbed one of the first aid kits the medics had brought in, ignoring their disproving look, it faded quickly as Hyena started efficiently, and correctly tending to those who needed stitches.

Jason wasn't surprised, Danny had stitched Jason up more then once and he had always done a damn good job. Jason loved seeing Danny liked this, in his element, taking charge and taking care of people. It reminded Jason how much he loved Danny, and it was hot as hell. 

Jason approached Danny, who glanced up at Jason from the wound he was cleaning on a goons arm who was looking away from the blood looking a little green. "Hey Boo, are you hurt?" Danny asked. Jason could hear in his voice that he was smiling even though his muzzle his it.

"No, I'm perfectly fine," Jason assured, he was bruised but he wasn't bleeding anywhere and he could move all of his extremities. 

"Good, I'm glad you're okay. Now make yourself useful and go grab some more clean water," Danny directed him, focusing back on his work.

Jason laughed, if anyone else talked to him like that he'd probably blow a gasket, but Danny was allowed. Jason looped an arm around Danny's waist and leaned his forehead against the top of the other man's head for just a moment, wishing their masks weren't in the way so he could kiss Danny. Jason let go again almost immediately before Danny could start fussing at him for being in the way. 

"You got it Cub," Jason assured fondly, striding off to make himself useful as well.

--------

Unfortunately not every fight went well. They couldn’t win everything, and sometimes the people Hood was after got away. It was another fight, fucking Black Mask had tried to move in on Hood’s territory! Unusual for the cowardly little weasel, he had decided to come himself and join in the fight.

It was absolutely the perfect opportunity to kill the creep once and for all! And maybe Hood was a little too fixated on that, because he was on a fucking one frack mind trying to get to Mask. Hyena was covering his back, and giving orders while he wasn’t paying attention to what was going on, compensating for his tunnel vision though he didn’t notice that. 

What he certainly did notice was when Hyena yanked him back. Mask had called a retreat and was on his way out. Hood had been about to give chance into what was definitely a trap, or at the very least a bad idea to abandon his people and run into a gang of… however many people Mask had left, Jason had not been counting.

It wasn’t a smart thing to do to follow Mask, but that didn’t mean that Jason was fucking okay with Danny manhandling him! He was furious, he was consumed by green blood lust and obsession, and he absolutely would not see reason. 

Hyena was trying to say something but Jason didn’t hear what it was past the blood rushing in his ears. He swung around and struck Hyena hard sending him stumbling back, Jason could see a little blood from where the metal of the muzzle had cut Danny’s cheek under the force of Jason’s blow. 

“Hood,” Hyena pleaded, holding out his hands towards Jason. “Listen, you can’t-”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” Jason snarled, advancing on Danny again, though at least he wasn’t still trying to follow Black Mask anymore. Danny didn’t shield his body when Jason punched him in the stomach clinging to his arm instead, forcing him to stay close and to pause. 

“We’re in public, people are watching,” Danny wheezed, big blue eyes fixed on Jason’s face. He recoiled when he saw tears gathering at the corners, Danny had never looked so… genuinely hurt when Jason had hit him before. But then again, he’s always done it in private before. 

Shit! They weren’t in private! 

Jason looked up and around them, at his people watching them with horror and shock. He saw judgment, anger and disgust there too and shame joined the uncomfortable roiling of emotion in his gut. “We’ll deal with your anger when we get home,” Danny said softly, letting go of Jason’s arm and resting his hands either side of Jason’s helmet instead, making him look back at Danny, focus on him. “I can handle this if you need to go calm down.”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Hood said, gently brushing his fingers over the bruise on Danny’s cheek. It wasn’t healing, he didn’t know why. Could Danny… stop himself from healing? Did he have that much control?

“Good,” Danny said, leaning in to Jason’s touch. “I’ll be fine. Let’s get this over with.” 

Jason nodded and the two of them separated and took control of the situation again, Danny starting to give orders regarding medical care as always, and Jason starting to direct repairs, and plans for retaliation against Mask.

Most of his goons seemed to snap out of their shock and start following orders on instinct, though Jason couldn’t help notice the worried looks that were being directed at Danny in particular. And it seemed Danny did too and was getting sick of it. 

With everyone either treated or being treated he hopped up on a random crate and glared over the room with narrowed eyes. “Of anyone has something to say then fucking say it!” He demanded in an angry hiss that still carried throughout the room. 

When nervous looks were shot Hood’s way he shrugged, spread his hands, and then gestured back at Hyena. Red Hood wasn’t going to interfere, so answer Hyena’s question. 

After a awkward moment one brave soul seemed to appoint themselves the spokesperson and shuffled forward, Danny’s eyes fixed on them, raising an eyebrow. 

“We’re just worried I guess? We all know the two of yous are together, and you know it’s not right for him to hit you right? We all saw the way that Harley was treated and I know you two-”

“We’re nothing like them,” Hyena cut in scowling. “And our relationship is none of your business. If I wanted to stop him I could, we do things the way that works for us. It’s not your place to question it, and I don’t want any of you fucking worrying about me. God forbid if I ever catch anyone pitying me I’ll show them exactly how big of a mistake they’re making. 

“And don’t you fucking judge Hood either. I told him he could do that. I started it. You should mind your own business,” He practically snarled. He hopped down from his makeshift soapbox and stalked passed all the goons without looking at them. “Let’s go home,” he said, grabbing Jason’s hand and leading him away. 

Jason was so grateful to Danny for defending him, and he had a feeling he owed his boyfriend some flowers and a very nice dinner for putting him in a position where he had to. 

[magpiepills]

Honor and Obey

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Santiago Garcia x Santi’s wife! Reader

Word count: 3.9

Summary:you are Santi’s wife and when Frankie moves in, you have an idea that Santi helps you make a reality.

Warnings: SMUT! Threesome, sort of fucking, oral m and f receiving, m/m dynamics, sort of dom reader, sort of sub Frankie and Santi, Frankie is the Pussy Eating King, big dicks, teasing, flirting, mentions of alcohol, mentions of curls, fuck licking, cum shots, creampies, a little overstimulation, one spank, pwp, just porn. Possibly more, idk.

A word from the author: This is a repost! this has been rotting away in my WIPs for months. I am in a little slump working on Made Me Love You, so I decided to finish this to hopefully get things going again. It’s not my best work, and I may fix it up and post another version some other time. Maybe not. Who knows. Anyway, here it is.

Frankie knew exactly what he was getting into when he came to stay with his best friend and his new wife after his lady finally kicked him out. The lies and the coke and the abandonment for misguided jungle romps were finally too much for her.

When Santi offered the spare bedroom in the house they’d just bought, Frankie gladly accepted. How could he say no to a roof over his head, his best friend down the hall, and you?

It was so innocent at first that he felt like it was his fault. You’d left the door open when you showered. He didn’t mean to see you, naked and wet, patting your hair with a towel when he walked down the hall. He reluctantly looked away.

When the three of you lounged by the pool, he dove into the water when Santi untied your top and reapplied your sunscreen, then left you shiny, slick, and bare under the warm July sun. Frankie didn’t bother pretending not to look. You smiled at him and raised one knee, planting your foot on the lounge chair and letting it drop just enough to give Frankie something to think about later in his room alone, heavy cock in his fist.

Frankie couldn’t deny his attraction to you. Anyone who looked at you would fall for you. You were beautiful in an effortless way, warm and always interested in what others had to say, making everyone feel special and important. Your hair, your face, your body, your voice, Frankie knew exactly what had attracted his lovesick friend to you.

Once he understood what you wanted, he even let himself flirt with you a bit. He winked at you when your eyes met. He went commando under his gray sweatpants, settling them low on his waist, jutting his hips out just so while he stood at the foot of the couch while you read. He let his touch linger on your waist when he scooted between you and the counter in the kitchen, fingertip grazing the soft skin under your shirt, light enough that you might believe it was an accident.

•••••••••••••••••

Weeks went by, glances became stares, and brushes of bare skin became teasing touches. Frankie was in a constant state of sexual frustration. His mouth watered, his cock was half hard, he spilled his seed over his stomach every night as he thought of you. You bent over the couch, you on your knees, you sitting on his face and coming on his tongue. He imagined what you might sound like when you begged him to fuck you harder. It drove him mad.

•••••••••••••••

Your own patience was wearing thin. You weren’t sure how much longer you could restrain yourself, to play innocent, keep your hands to yourself. How many more ways could you temp him? You’d done your best to goad him into coming on to you, but he had never crossed the line from longful looks and lingering touches. Every day you wanted to push Frankie against a wall and drop to your knees taking his cock as far down your throat as you could. He just didn’t seem to be getting the message. Santi laughed at your failed seduction, he had tried to help, but couldn’t be mad at the restraint Frankie had shown with another man’s wife.

When you couldn’t wait any longer, Santiago had taken Frankie out for a drink and clapped him on the shoulder as he explained that he needed Frankie to stop being so respectful. It took several more drinks before Frankie was convinced it wasn’t a joke or a trick and that you actually wanted to fuck him and that Santi was not just ok with it, that you’d be fucking them both. His head spun, not just from the Stella.

••••••••••

Two nights later, it was time for your date as you’d taken to calling it. You had told Santi exactly what was to happen. “He’s going to be good, isn’t he Santi?” You asked him, nuzzling into his chest while you sat waiting with your husband for his best friend to get out of the shower. Santi never got tired of telling you how much he and his friend were going to enjoy sharing you. He hummed into your hair, thick arms around your waist. You let your mind drift to images of Frankie in the steamy stall, soaping his body, suds rolling down his broad chest to his soft belly. Images of his big hands sliding over his arms and to his cock. You knew it must be something special. You’d seen him in those sweatpants, knees spread wide on the couch. His bulge may as well have had a neon arrow pointing at it.

When Frankie emerged, warm and slightly damp, smelling like citrus and mint, hair damp and curling wildly, you pressed a drink into his hand and guided him to the couch next to Santiago while you took your seat in a chair across from them. Santi raises his own glass in silent, subtle greeting as you spoke, soft and sweet. There was no sense in wasting time.

“Touch him.”

Your command was gentle.

“Touch him?” Frankie asked, eyes wide and voice wavering.

You nod and smile patiently, your eyes never breaking his gaze as you sip from your glass before continuing. “Why don’t you help him out of his shirt?”

Frankie shifted up onto his knees and scooted closer to his friend, he had heard what you said too, and made room for Frankie between his legs. There was no hesitancy about him at all, just a buzz of desire and the smell of sweet cologne.

“Gotta do what she wants, Fish. Happy wife, happy life, right?” Santi’s gaze was steady and sure, leaving no room for second thoughts.

Kneeling between Santiago’s knees on the couch, he reached hesitantly for the hem, tongue slowly licking across his bottom lip as he pulled the t-shirt over his friend's head, making his thick, dark curls bounce.

Frankie tossed the shirt at your feet.

“Now yours. Let him take it off.” Your directions were cool and calm, but heat was building inside you, Santi had delivered on his promise to bring you your third and now it was time to see how he would behave for you.

Frankie kept his eyes on you as Santi leaned forward to drag the shirt up Frankie’s torso, finally revealing his strong, wide shoulders and a soft belly with a trail of dark hair leading down under his jeans.

He was perfect.

“I’d like Santi to kiss you, Frankie. Is that alright?”

Frankie nodded, but didn’t look back at his friend until Santi wrapped his warm hand around the back of his neck. Frankie let his eyes fall, glassy and half lidded, to Santi’s plush lips, then lifted them to meet the other man’s intense gaze. Frankie lifted his own hand and mirrored Santi’s grip on his neck before tilting his head slightly, just enough for Santi to catch his lips in a deep kiss.

Santi, of course, had left this part out. He had explained that his wife wanted to have sex with him, and that she wanted Santi to be there. Frankie assumed that this was some cuck kink they had and he was more than ok with that. It stroked his ego to give a woman what another man couldn’t. The prospect of Santi joining them changed the dynamic a little, but Frankie was game. Santi was handsome and flirtatious, the two men had toed the line of flirtation themselves for years. It shouldn’t have been a surprise.

••••••••••••••••

You looked on, feeling warmer by the minute, a dampness growing between your thighs as you watched two such masculine men, so powerful and strong making out for your enjoyment.

Santi’s hand drifted down Frankie’s back, and his other hand came to cup his cheek posessively. Again, Frankie mirrored his action and cradled Pope’s cheek in his hand, deepening the kiss.

“Take his pants off, Santiago.” You directed from your perch. You wanted to see who got hard first.

Santi broke the kiss, and guided Frankie to stand while he unbuttoned his jeans, drew the zipper downward, and pushed the soft denim off his narrow hips, leaving him in snug gray boxers, ones that you had picked out.

Frankie stepped out of his jeans and looked to you for approval or direction or anything, but it wasn’t necessary. The look on your face urged him on. He looped his index fingers through his friend's belt loops and pulled him closer to strip him of his pants as well, leaving him in a pair of matching underwear, just how you wanted them.

Nearly bare, the energy in the room thrummed. It felt warmer, more humid, felt as if the walls had closed in.

You didn't need to tell them what to do next, the two men, older, graying, battle scarred, no strangers to violence, held each other close and kissed with a passion that you hadn’t expected, Frankie leaned down to close the difference in their height, Santi kept a guiding hand on Frankie’s cheek.

“Alright Santiago, Francisco. I want to see you now. Both of you. All of you. Is he hard, Santi? Why don’t we find out” Santi grinned up at Frankie, and chuckled as he brought his hand to grip at the taller man’s half hard cock before hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pushing them down to the middle of his thighs.

“Tsk. I think you can do better than that, sweetheart. I need him hard. Help him out. Get on your knees for him.” Frankie’s head snapped to you, his eyes wide, unable to believe this is what you wanted. He only had to look at the way your chest heaved as you watched the men act out your fantasies to know you were serious. Santi, on the other hand, needed no confirmation. You were the boss. He had already dropped to his knees, cock in his hand, ready to show you exactly what you wanted to see.

With you in the chair soaking your panties and directing your own personal porno and Santi on the floor, tugging at his throbbing length, all of Frankie’s inhibitions evaporated. With no hesitation left, he threaded his thick fingers into Santi’s curls and pulled him close until his cheek was against his hip and his lips just inches from his quickly hardening length. “Do as she says, Pope. Suck.”

No sooner than the words left Frankie’s mouth, a shadow seemed to cross his best friend’s face and he huffed through his teeth, greedily taking Frankie’s cock into his mouth. His eyes were dark and dangerous as he stared up, groans rumbling deep in his chest as he worked the length into his throat, all for your pleasure. “That’s it. Take my cock down your throat. Suck it like you mean it.” As Frankie spoke he began to thrust his hips shallowly. He loved the power of having a strong man on his knees. Santi was a year or so younger, shorter but thick with muscle where Frankie was tall and lean. Santi’s beard grew in thicker but grayed sooner, making him look older where Frankie had maintained a bit of boyishness into his forties. Neither had ever wanted for the company of women.

“Don’t let him come.” Your words were sharp and cut through Frankie’s panting and murmuring and the squelching of his cock against the back of Santi’s throat. The men immediately stilled, and Frankie’s cock was left wet with saliva and his hands tight fists at his sides. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathed deeply, and willed himself back from the edge.

“It’s your turn now, Frankie. Help Santiago. Get him close. Frankie’s heart pounded in his chest, suddenly unsure of his own abilities. Frankie knew exactly what to do for women, knew what to do for himself, knew how he liked to be touched, but he wasn’t sure how to touch his best friend to make him feel good and he really wasn’t sure what you wanted to see. He took a deep breath, and decided he would stick with what he knew.

Frankie pushed Santi backwards by his hips, smirking down at him before looking back to you. “He likes taking directions, doesn’t he? He likes being good.” Then turned back to Santi. “You’re going to be good aren’t you?” Not waiting for a response, he shoved him gently onto the couch, anchoring his hips with both hands and kissing down Santi’s woolly jaw, down his neck, across his scarred shoulder, then slowly back to suck dark marks across his throat. He could feel the vibration of the other man’s soft moans, it ignited something familiar in him, a need to take him apart, explore every piece, study and commit it all to memory, tuck it away for reference, become the expert on his needs. Not now, though. Now he just settled between Santi’s knees.

You crossed the room to sit on your knees next to your boyfriend, up close you could see the shine of saliva on his chest, hear his heavy breaths as Frankie took his twitching cock in hand and began to stroke him in long, firm movements. “You’re hard as a fuckin’ rock, Pope. You like this? Like letting your girl watch you suck my cock? Yeah. You like getting on your knees,too. Did good, Pope. Almost had me coming down your throat.” Santi whimpered at Frankie’s words, closing his eyes, furrowing his thick brows.

Licking his lips, Frankie moved slowly, lowering his head, licking a wide, slow stripe up the underside of Santi’s cock, mimicking the way he ate pussy, something he knew he excelled at.

Your eyes met Frankie’s as he continued licking and swirling his tongue over your boyfriend’s shaft. The sight sent a fresh wave of arousal to your already dripping core. You imagined him between your own legs, his expert tongue and wide hands working you to your release.

Santi’s whimpering and squirming brought you back to the moment, reminding you that this was for your pleasure, not theirs. You are in control, and they’ll do what you say. Breathlessly, you command Frankie to stop,and he sits back, panting and needy, but obedient. His hand splayed over your thigh, silently begging for you to give him his next command. You placed your hand over his, admiring the difference in size and texture, his much larger and rougher than your own, callused and rough with thick veins across the back, but his nails were blunt and clean. You squeezed his hand before turning your focus to Santi, who was watching how you looked at his friend. He recognized the lust in your eyes, recognized the same in himself. When he shifted closer to you, you reached for him, pulling him into a kiss.

You didn’t need to open your eyes to know Frankie was watching intently, canting his hips, searching for relief he wasn’t due. You simply held out your hand for him and he rose, planting his knees between yours and Santi’s so that he could straddle your legs at the same time before inviting himself into your kiss, licking at where your lips met, mouthing at you and his former squad mate, noses bumping.

Santi broke the kiss, pulling Frankie by his thick curls into a deep kiss of their own before guiding his face to the apex of your thighs.

“Show me what you can do, Frank. Santi’s been telling me you’ve got quite a reputation. I really want to see for myself what kind of skills you have. See if you really are “the pussy-eating king.”

How devious he looked, lips curling into a smirk at your challenge.

“Alright, cariño. I’ll show you, but don’t be disappointed when nobody ever does it good enough after this.”

He didn’t waste any more time. He pulled you down the couch so you were on the edge of the cushion, and lifted your knees. “Hold her knee, Santi.” The men worked as a team, it should have been no surprise. Santi’s familiar hand held your left knee up and out, giving Frankie unfettered access while he kissed you, licking into your mouth, grunting into you as you lazily stroked your husband’s cock.

Frankie rubbed over the soft skin of your thighs with his warm, rough hands. He squeezed and kneaded and worked his way down to your mound, covering it with one hand and gently sliding the heel of his hand to your clit, circling it, rolling it, making you groan into Santi’s mouth, your hand stilling on his cock.

Frankie’s left hand joined his right at your glistening pussy and he let his fingertips slip over your folds, smearing your slick from where it pooled up over your clit, rubbing with intention there before fluttering over your delicate inner folds. You gasped when he thumbed a wet stripe of your own slick over your pebbled nipple, and whined when Santi was quick to cover it with his mouth, tasting you there, cock twitching with need.

You were wetter than you could ever remember being. Almost embarrassingly so. Your pussy, Frankie’s fingers, down onto the couch you dripped, and when he pushed two thick fingers into you, the wet sounds were obscene. He twisted his wrist, licked and sucked your throbbing clit, groaning and humming against you as he worked you diligently toward your orgasm.

Santi’s eyes were locked to where Frankie devoured you, even as he kissed you and kneaded your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples, helping push you closer to the edge.

“Fuck. Doin so good do us, baby. Look at you. This what you wanted? Want him to make you come?”

You whimpered into Santi’s cheek, nodding, delirious with pleasure so many sensations overwhelmed you. “Close!” You managed finally. Frankie had taken his sweet time about your cunt, applying his tongue, his lips, his fingers with precision, easing you up to the apex of pleasure. With one last focused effort, he tongues your clit while he crooked his fingers against the spot inside you that he knew would finish you off.

You writhed, squeezing his head between your thighs while Santi kissed you messily, letting your climax wash over you until you were dazed and panting, too sensitive to move.

One of them handed you your drink and you sipped it as you came back to yourself, only then seeing the hungry way they looked at you. Santi ran his land through your hair and Frankie kissed your thigh and rubbed your knee.

“Frankie that was amazing. Santi, thank you.” You kissed Santi again, grateful that he was so willing and happy to let another man, his best friend eat you out to the best orgasm you’d ever gotten from oral, and possibly ever. But you knew that wasn’t where this would end. You placed your empty glass on the table and reached for Frankie, kissing him, unsure if that was crossing a boundary, but too deep into this dynamic to care. You pulled him onto the couch, sandwiching yourself between the men. Frankie leaned in to kiss you again, the force pushed you back into Santi’s warm chest and you felt his scratchy chin on your shoulder, voice soft, urging you onto Frankie’s lap.

“Don’t you want to show him how grateful you are? Why don’t you help him now, cariño?”

You turned to kiss Santi, but the moment was interrupted by Frankie’s hand landing a sharp smack on your ass. My turn.

You crawled onto his lap, whining when his cock brushed against your over-sensitive cunt. You settled happily with your arms around his neck, kissing him while he squeezed the plush round of your ass, letting him pull you up to bury his face between your tits, kissing and nipping at your soft skin, breathing deep to smell your sweat and perfume.

“Lift up. Want you to sit on this big cock.” You obeyed, raising enough for him to run the thick head of his cock through your slick folds and tease at your entrance, making you whine until Santi stopped you. “Uh uh. Not like that.” He pulled you to your feet and spun you around. “Like this.” He pushed your hips back and together he and Frankie guided you to sink down the thick length of Frankie’s cock. You squeezed your eyes shut and moved slowly, breathing deeply and adjusting to the full, throbbing, wanting ache of your pussy around him. When you felt ready to move, you opened them to find your husband between your wide open legs, staring darkly at the place where Frankie entered you. The delicate skin stretched so prettily over a big cock. He didn’t think he would ever get the image out of his mind. Neither the sight nor the sound of slapping skin, the harmony of your cries and Frankie’s grunts as he fucked up slowly into you. Not the smell of your arousal, covering all three of you now.

Frankie’s arms were around you, one across your stomach and one across your chest, giving him leverage to fuck your as he saw fit. Soft and crazy or hard and fast. He tried it all and you took it. You took his cock while Santi shifted on his knees, face mere inches from where you were speared on Frankie’s fat cock. He watched you rub your clit in small circles before he knocked your hand away. “Yeah. Look at that. Look at that pretty pussy. Look at how greedy. Think we could both fit?” Santi teased, before spitting onto your pussy. He watched it drip down past your clit before leaning in to lick it back up. He repeated the vulgar action, then sucked your swollen clit between his full lips.

You couldn’t help the pornographic moaning. Frankie cursed in Spanish under you as your clenched around him. When Santi relented, releasing your clit, they spoke strained, clipped sentences to each other in their native tongue. Frankie thrust deeper and Santi resumed his licking, fisting his own turgid member while thumbing at your puffy lips, licking up your slick, then tipping his head lower to press his tongue right over the place where Frankie entered you. He was wild, licking and mouthing as your cunt and Frankie’s cock, laving wet licks over his friend’s heavy balls until Frankie slammed into you one last time, filling you with his hot cum, fucking it deep. As Frankie covered you on the inside, Santi jerked himself to completion, shooting his load onto your cunt in thick white ribbons, lacing it over Frankie’s balls, the bottom of his cock. He admired his work for several moments, heart racing. He watched as Frankie’s cum began to leak out of you and dripped down fo mix with his own on Frankie’s cock.

When the three of you peeled yourselves apart, you relaxed a while on the desecrated sofa, Santi held you and you held Frankie. You ran your hands through his sweat damp curls, kissed his neck tenderly, told him how good he did. You gave Santi the same treatment, showering him with adoration and gratitude for agreeing to this and for helping you bring Frankie into the fold.

“Next time,” Santi suggested, “we should film it.”

[imaginesig]

Sweet Summer

Yuki Tsunoda x Hughes!reader

SMAU

reader plays in the professional hockey PWHL on the Vegas team (I'm making them up for convince)

y/n_hughes

liked by yukitsunoda0511, user4, ellenhughes, and 380,382 others

y/n_hughes this week 🏒🍻

tagged: ellenhughes, pwhl_vegas, jackhughes, lhughes_06

ellenhughes thank you for spoiling me on our mother-daughter date ❤️

y/n_hughes it was the least I could do 🫶❤️

user1 oh to drink and watch a hockey game with the Hughes women

_quinnhughes I felt left out

jackhughes don't be so dramatic dad came to see you

y/n_hughes well they both came to my game losers

lhughes_06 the sass is ASTRONOMICAL

Y/n_hughes define astronomical

user2 only Y/n would be able to keep her hair that perfect during a game

user3 why is yuki in the likes?? my worlds are colliding 😭

pwhl_vegas

liked by user7, yukitsunoda0511, danielriccardo, and 918,828 others

pwhl_vegas: sold out arena ✅ Vegas win ✅ shutout ✅

tagged: no one

user1 LETS GO

user2 and they said no one would watch women's pro-hockey

yukitsunoda0511 great game 💪

user3 what is he doing here😭

danielriccardo i will admit I didn't see the appeal at first mate, but I'd tune in again

pwhl_vegas if that's the case we might have some tickets with your names on them

danielriccardo yuki almost passed out, I’d take that as a yes

user4 NOT DANIEL EXPOSING HIS OWN TEAMMATE

ellenhughes the girls looked great!!

pwhl_vegas we love you mama hughes🤍

alphatauri

liked by y/n_hughes, user3, user8, and 929,927 others

alphatauri all smiles in Brazil 😁

tagged: danielriccardo, yukitsunoda0511

y/n_hughes nice post but the order could be better...

user1 OH SO SHES BOLD BOLD user2 originally I didn't think this was anything but now...

user3 a ships a brewing

user4 these must've been taken pre-race

user5 fr fr😭

y/n_hughes

liked by user4, _quinnhughes, yukitsunoda0511, and 783,028 others

y/n_hughes: she's versatile

tagged: no one

lhughes06 4+4

jackhughes now who taught him that

y/n_hughes 🤭

user1 she makes living in vegas look so glamorous

user2 the lockeroom energy is crazy 💀

yukitsunoda0511 she does both stunningly

y/n_hughes when he's bold too >>>>>>

user3 I smell the start of something

_quinnhughes miss you sis!!

y/n_hughes we need to plan a trip soon!! Miss you bunches quinny!!

jackhughes bunches is crazy

y/n_hughes I hope you fall into the Atlantic

user3 I'm still not over Yuki being here

user4 do we think something will happen with the Vegas grand prix next week?

user5 oh def

pwhl_vegas

liked by y/n_hughes, AlphaTauri, user1, and 818,727 others

pwhl_vegas some familiar faces walking into the arena tonight!!

tagged: yukitsunoda0511, danielriccardo, alphatauri

user1 no way no way no way no way

user2 THIS IS NOT A DRILL YUKI IS AT Y/N'S GAME

user3 I don't want to alarm anyone, but I was sitting near them and I swear Yuki was so much louder when Y/n scored the anyone else

User7 omg omg omg omg

alphatauri we hope they behaved!

Danielriccardo Thank you so much for the hospitality!

yukitsunoda0511 after all the cheering I've had to do digitally its been fun to see a game in real life!!

pwhl_vegas well we had to spoil our superfan

user4 not admin only responding to Yuki's comment

user5 smths def up

user6 f1 fan here, someone give me a ice hockey crash course I may be here awhile

alphatauri

liked by yukitsunoda0511, user2, pwhl_vegas, and 917,818 others

alphatauri: so we borrowed a center for the night

tagged: y/n_hughes, pwhl_vegas

user1 omg what are the chances that's Yuki's car??

user2 pretty high bc I think only the drivers/engineers allowed to invite someone to sit in the car

user3 AHHHHHH

user4 she ate that first pick up

y/n_hughes thank you so much for the opportunity!! Literally a dream come true

alphatauri hosting you was a dream come true for us!!

user5 and a certain driver...

alphatauri no comment

user6 LMAO ADMIN

yukitsunoda0511 @/y/n_hughes I have more passes if you enjoyed this race...

y/n_hughes don't temp me Tsunoda...

user6 oh its def on

yukitsunoda0511

liked by y/n_hughes, user9, danielriccardo, and 819,818 others

yukitsunoda0511: great weekend, very pleased with my final position and points earned 🏎️

tagged: alphatarui

y/n_hughes someone teach this man to write a caption with some personality before I throw tomatoes

yukitsunoda you could crash course me

y/n_hughes that feels like it has a double meaning... im intrigued

jackhughes I didn't want to believe twitter but here I am @/lhughes_06 @/_quinnhughes

y/n_hughes no absolutely not

user1 NOT TWITTER

user2 that picture is very iPhone wallpaper sized for all the Yuki girls

y/n_hughes screen shotting rn

user3 Y/N HAVE YOU NO SHAME

user4 this comment section is giving me LIFE

y/n_hughes

liked by user4, jackhughes, lhughes_06, and 672,027 others

y/n_hughes i was crashed coursed in cooking

tagged: yukitsunoda0511

ellenhughes so proud of you for not burning anything!!

y/n_hughes moooom don't embarrass me in front of my friends

jackhughes its a Christmas miracle nothing caught fire

y/n_hughes at least I knew how to cook before mr. broccoli

pwhl_vegas get yourself a man who makes sure the meal fits within your diet constraints ☺️

danielriccardo @/y/n_hughes now get him to follow our team diet constraints as well

y/n_hughes 🫡

yukitsunoda0511 you're an A+ student

y/n_hughes giggling and kicking my feet rn

lhughes_06 no stop this

Y/n_hughes no @/_quinnhughes

_quinnhughes I can protect you from them 99% of the time but you flirting on main while not telling us abt him- that's the 1%

y/n_hughes well maybe if my brothers weren't all judgmental sass balls this wouldn't be an issue

jackhughes you take that back rn

user1 anybody else cackling at all that's going on rn

user2 I need Yuki and Y/n to make it official rn, all the flirting is KILLING ME

user3 that food looks so good 😭

y/n_hughes

liked by ellenhughes, user1, user5, and 927,729 others

y/n_hughes fam in da house

tagged: ellenhughes, jimhughes, jackhughes, lhughes_06, _quinnhughes, yukitsunoda0511

jackhughes that caption is repulsive

y/n_hughes you're repulsive

lhughes_06 you were great!!

y/n_hughes aww thanks moose 🫶

user1 we finally get a crossover pic and its the most platonic thing ever??

user3 I mean there is a whole bunch of content of Yuki getting along with her family

user2 I was not ready for a full Hughes meet up PLUS Yuki

_quinnhughes I had a great time! He fits in really well

y/n_hughes aww thank you quinn

pwhl_vegas new wag confirmation??

y/n_hughes 🤫

user4 ma'am

yukitsunoda0511 I see why your family is so popular

y/n_hughes bc of my hot brothers?

yuktsunoda0511 yea totally, but I'd agrue the sister is hotter

jackhughes watch it, I was just liking you

yukitsunoda0511

liked by user8, danielriccardo, y/n_hughes, and 817,927 others

yukitsunoda0511: congrats on a fantastic season!! I'm not only glad to call myself a fan, but a wag. You are so talented, hard working, and incredible. There is no one else I'd want to call mine❤️

tagged: y/n_hughes

user6 ITS OFFICAL

yukitsunoda0511 p.s sorry for fall a dozen times and not knowing how tight to tie my skates, that wasn't very alpha male of me

user1 LMAO WHAT user2 daddy moment of Y/n's part

_quinnhughes you need to use the T.H.I.N.K method they teach in schools bc wft was that last photo

jackhughes is this true, helpful, inspirational, necessary, kind?

Yukitsunoda0511 yes.

y/n_hughes wow, I expect attitude from Jack but not you Quinn

User3 THE ATTITUDE

lhughes_06 what can I say he fits right in🤷‍♂️

User4 manifesting y/n’s theme of digital camera photos spreads to yuki 🕯️🕯️

User5 🤞🤞🤞

Y/n_hughes

Liked by jackhughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, and 917,628 others

Y/n_hughes “I wanna be defined by the things that I love”

tagged: yukitsunoda0511, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06

Ellenhughes my sweet babies 💖

lhughes06 so we’re ignoring the first pic? Ok

Ellenhughes hush whenever yall are nice to each other I ignore everything else

Y/n_hughes love you mama 🫶🫶

User1 a vacation at the Hughes lake house?? Yuki is rlly out here living the fanfic dream

User2 and we’re all jealous😭

User3 taylor captions ����🔝

User4 anyone else notice that she used the lyric that’s currently a tik tok trend? And like the trend people list things they love— so in theory she listed out her brothers and Yuki😭

User5 omg we love Y/n being soft on main

Pwhl_Vegas love to see our athletes enjoying off season @/njdevils @/alphatauri @/canucks

AlphaTauri we agree 🤍

Canucks 💙💚

Njdevils ❤️🖤

_quinnhughes I wanna be defined by my love for y’all too

Y/n_hughes aww Quinn 😭😭

lhughes_06 oh no she’s got him sappy too

jackhughes resist Luke were the only ones still standing

_quinnhughes assholes

yukitsunoda0511 “I once believed love would be ~blue and white~ but it’s golden” 💛

Y/n_hughes that’s so sweet 🥹❤️❤️

Jackhughes

Liked by y/n_hughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, and 817,728 others

Jackhughes: lakes, love, and lemonade

Tagged: y/n_hughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, yukitsunoda

Y/n_hughes your insta game is improving what’s her name?

User1 LMAO Y/N

jackhughes shut up

User2 ok so love as in him not being annoying abt Y/n and Yuki for once or love as in himself??

User3 omg we need answers now

_quinnhughes next year I call @/yukitsunoda0511 as my partner in padel

lhughes_06 no he’ll be mine

jackhughes I automatically win him bc your arguing over MY post

y/n_hughes yall are so funny…

Used3 not the arguing over Yuki 💀

User4 it’s kinda sweet

Private account

Ellenhughes

Liked by y/n_hughes, jimhughes, yukitsunoda0511, and 135 others

Ellenhughes sweet summer ❤️

Tagged no one

Y/n_hughes a very sweet summer indeed

Yukitsunoda0511 thank you for the invite!!

jackhughes we loved the company man, you’re welcome anytime

lhughes_06 and you’re always welcome in New Jersey

_quinnhughes and Vancouver

Y/n_hughes ❤️❤️

[obislittleone]

Don’t Blame Me

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: i am so tired and everyone hates me but hey at least i still have dbf joel

Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, some smut, probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am… again

This one is awkward ngl

Decided on the song ‘Don’t blame me’ by taylor swift bc I’m a swiftie and what else was i supposed to put?

MASTERLIST

reader is like 21/22, joel is 37

“Here, you grab that end,” you gave his shoulder a light shove, nodding towards the end of the beam as you sunk down by the other. “You shouldn’t overdo it, you might feel sick again.”

“M’ stronger than I look,” he mumbled, and you scoffed.

“Trust me, I know…” you ignored his waves of dismissal, and began lifting from one side. “But you need to take it easy. Save your energy.”

The temp job was easy, mostly because Joel did most of the heavy lifting. It had been all fun and games for the first week, standing by him and watching him work, handing him the specific tools when he asked. Seemed like a dream job in most aspects, getting to sit and look pretty while the man you’re sneaking around with gets all hot and sweaty, his arms a bulging mass of muscle under the short sleeves of his dark t-shirt. 

He would often smirk when he sensed you were taking him in, admiring the view from where the toolbox was sitting. He would tease you relentlessly for it, of course, as is his way… but it didn’t stop your glances and forbidden stares. 

A whole week it had been this way, and you were more than happy to keep the flow of things going, but unfortunately on Sunday night, Joel got sick. 

It was just a fever, nothing he couldn’t sleep off in a few days. He’d called you on Monday morning before he even called anyone else at the site. They all wished him well and sent their little ‘get better soon’ messages thereafter, while you offered to drop by later with some ‘sick day’ supplies. He told you he didn’t want you catching whatever he had, and you understood that if you were sick, too, the odds of seeing each other would get lower. 

Week number two, the first several days of which were spent without Joel, and doing far too much heavy lifting of your own. There was another woman working with you all, and they supposed that two of you could make up for one Joel. You didn’t even realize how truly strong he was until you had to carry the weight he normally did. Even with another person, it was tiring and straining, and downright gruesome on your muscles. You’d been sore every night you went home. 

As soon as Joel came back, you’d have to remember to help him out a bit more, because there’s no way he enjoys not being assisted. He always insists you don’t have to, but you’ve learned how hard it is, so you want to. 

Thursday, Joel’s first day back at work, not feeling completely himself, but better enough to come into work and make some progress. 

You paid mind when he bent down to lift a heavy beam that should have taken two men to carry. 

“Here, you grab that end,” you gave his shoulder a light shove, nodding towards the end of the beam as you sunk down by the other. “You shouldn’t overdo it, you might feel sick again.”

“M’ stronger than I look,” he mumbled, and you scoffed.

“Trust me, I know…” you ignored his waves of dismissal, and began lifting from one side. “But you need to take it easy. Save your energy.”

He gave you a look, narrow eyes and furrowed brows, “Save it for what?”

You shrugged, beginning to walk backwards once he had his part lifted high enough to move the beam. You looked over your shoulder a few times to make sure you weren’t gonna crash into anything. 

“Just don’t want you to keep gettin’ sick. Been missin’ you,” you admitted, waiting for his reaction. He’d been feeling the same way, you knew. He’d sent you texts after you got home from work everyday to tell you so. 

“Missed you too, baby,” he set down his end once you both reached the correct spot on the interior, kicking it into place by the rest of the framework. 

You smiled sweetly at him, continuing the work as if nothing happened. As if your heart didn’t skip a beat from hearing those words in person, in his voice, dripping with the Texan drawl you were so fond of. It was comforting, it was familiar, and it gave you a sense of security. 

-

By the time Monday rolled around again, the framework had been completed and the electrical and plumbing started to take place. This was less of Joel’s and your dad’s specialty, but they still always showed up to oversee everything being done on time and to the company’s standards. 

This, of course, meant that you were nearly obsolete, and didn’t need to show up for the next few days. Now that you were the one being barred from doing any work, you had to come up with other excuses to drop by Joel’s after he came home from work. 

‘You left your jacket on our couch, and I wanted you to have it back before it gets cold out.’ 

Or 

‘My dad made a really good four cheese lasagna, I brought you some to try.’

It was always so much harder to figure out a time or place to meet up, since he and your dad worked together, and Sarah was almost always at the house after school. 

He knew you were going stir crazy, and even though he’d been tired and worn, he knew he had to see you… alone.

You were in the kitchen rinsing out your cereal bowl when your phone buzzed on the counter top. 

Sarah’s going over with a friend to spend the night, I’m on my way home right now.

Is that an invitation?

Damn right it is.

You smiled wide, not even bothering to do anything else with the bowl in your hand. You dropped it in the sink and went galavanting about your house and up to your room. Your dad would probably be getting home about the same time as Joel, maybe a bit later, but you figured you should wait to see him before you leave for the night. You’d feel even more guilty if you just shot him a text and left for his best friend’s place, right next door for the night. 

You got wrapped up in a sweatshirt and some jogging shorts, grabbing your backpack and phone charger, swinging around the doorway and back down the stairs. 

As luck would have it, the sound of keys in the door caught you just as you reached the bottom. You dad pushed through the door, his yawn of exhaustion clearly evident. He hooked the keys on the wall hanger beside him, then turned to see you, pulling the straps of your bag up your arms. 

“Hey there, lovebug,” he smiled, taking a few steps up to hug you around the neck and peck the top of your head. “Where are you off to?” 

You thought for only a split second before forming a story. 

“Nowhere in particular… just got invited by some friends to drive around and get some fast food.” 

Very convincing, and he laughed, shaking his head. 

“Kids these days, I’ll tell ya… back n’ my day we used to go to movies or walk around a mall. Used to do actual activities n’ things.” 

You rolled your eyes, letting him rant on about the ‘strange ways’ of your generation.

“Well, we aren’t kids, but we are easily entertained. I’ll see you later, though.”

You gave him a pat on his shoulder and a quick kiss to his cheek before heading out the door. Right before it shut, you could hear your dad fumbling around in the kitchen. He would probably be distracted for a while. 

Your face turned giddy as soon as you looked over to see Joel’s truck had been parked. You tried to look as nonchalant as possible, walking plainly over to the house next door, just in case there were any neighbors looking through an open window. You had no qualms about being near or with Joel, but you did have a problem with outside people making it their topic of conversation in the neighborhood gossip chain.

You got up to the door, and knocked, the door opening within maybe five seconds or less. The response time was near immediate, and you wondered if he’d been sitting in his chair near the door. 

“Hi there, I’m here to tell you about our lord and savior Jesus Christ,” you said seriously when he leaned into the doorframe, only breaking your facade when he stood there, unamused. You let out a giggle and at the noise he dropped his hard exterior.

He rolled his eyes and nodded inside before stepping back enough to allow you entrance.

“How was work?” You asked, dropping your backpack on the chair and waiting for him to close the door. 

“S’ alright. Mostly just a long and boring day with nothing pretty to see.”

“I’m sure my absence had nothing to do with that,” you remarked sarcastically, letting him take the last few steps to meet you. He looked so tired, and yet, completely awake just at the sight of you. 

“No, nothing at all.”

He took you into his arms and leaned down by your ear, whispering the last part of his words to you. It had been several days since you could stand like this, out of sight of others, their prying eyes all but away to witness the way he held you and squeezed you tightly. 

He smelled of sweat and concrete powder, which, though wasn’t a horribly unpleasant smell, you felt it couldn’t be comfortable to have it all over one's body. 

“Why don’t you head up to the shower and I’ll order a pizza?” You suggested, pulling back to see his worn out face, feeling the deep inhale of his breath by his chest. He let it out with a hunch of his shoulders as he replied. 

“I got food here, I can cook up sum’ quick-”

“Joel you’re exhausted, and besides… I got dominoes rewards,” you joked, pressing up to kiss the tip of his nose. There was no room for protest after that, and he nodded in agreement before pulling away to head upstairs. 

He had half a mind to ask you to join him, but having not crossed that line before, he didn’t really know what was on and what was off of the table. He shook the thought from his mind, going into his bathroom and starting the water. 

The domesticity was intoxicating. Hugging you after he got home from a long work day, of which he missed seeing your face. Seeing your smile and hearing your laugh and all the little gestures you make that you don’t even realize you’re doing. Sending him upstairs to get cleaned up only so he can come back down to you and eat pizza on the couch together. He hated how much he loved it, relaxed into it, even.

It’s almost too good to be true… and maybe it is. Because while you fit him perfectly, and while you both can pick up without missing a beat, you’re still the kid next door. His best friend’s daughter, and someone he should absolutely not be doing anything stupid with. That’s exactly what this was, wasn’t it? Stupidity. There’s no way this relationship ends well. Whether your dad comes around, or Sarah does, or the entire town for that matter. Whether or not his reputation is ruined, or yours. Nothing good can come from sneaking around, the quiet embraces or the late night stolen kisses. But you can’t stop, and neither can he.

He gets into the shower with a clear mind. Whatever happens, I have her for right now. 

-

You paid for the pizza and carried it inside, kicking the door shut as you balanced it along with the sides and sauces all in your arms. Joel had gotten out of his shower a few minutes ago, and was probably getting dried off and changed, so it was perfect timing that you had everything set out on the countertop when he came trotting down the stairs. 

“Hey, I got you some wings,” you told him, pointing to the box labeled ‘hot buffalo’ across from where you sat on the barstool. You’d been dipping a breadstick in marinara when he walked around you, kissing the side of your head before sitting down beside you. 

“Thank you,” he spoke gratefully, his hands already reaching for the box, moving the pizza to the side for a moment. You knew what he liked, a testament of the time you’d known him for. “So what’ve you been up to? Now that you’ve had a break from work?” 

“I wouldn’t call what I do actual work,” you snorted, but paused and tilted your head, recalling the day’s events. “I cleaned up ‘round the house, went to get some groceries for my dad, came home n’ watched some tv n’ had half a bowl of cereal.”

“Sounds eventful,” he mocked, and you gave him a nudge with your elbow. He chuckled, taking a bite of a chicken wing. 

“Haven’t really had anything else to do,” you shrugged, grabbing a pizza slice and dragging it out of the box, carefully pulling the cheese so it didn’t flop all over the counter top. “Not that I’m complainin’, though. Rather have time on my hands than be too busy.”

He understood that. It seemed like all he ever did was work nowadays. It was the same cycle, over and again. Wake up at six in the morning, eat breakfast with Sarah, drop her off at school, and get back to the grind. Framing, insulating, installing, furnishing, repeat. All day, every day. Come home late to dinner with Sarah and sometimes watch a movie before bed. It’s all he ever does, and though it’s consistent, and it’s familiar, he aches for the additional warmth you bring. It’s why he called you over that first night in the bar. He hadn’t expected to see you back, and moreover, he didn’t expect you to seem so grown up. 

He swears up and down that if you hadn’t been there that night, practically taunting him during that line dance, that this would have never happened. You both would have gone on to live alongside one another, but separately, just as you always have. 

The conversation continued, slowly, with no pressure of any answer from either side. It was easy, natural. Joel didn’t like talking when he didn’t have to, and although it was different around you, he still kept his words to a few. 

Once the pizza was eaten, the trash was discarded, and you’d move to the sink to get some of the grease off your hands. 

“Y’know, we’re gonna be startin’ on interior installations soon, you might be able to come back and work on some stuff with me, if you still want to.”

You were excited at the thought of his words. Getting to watch Joel Miller lift heavy things like countertops and cabinets? And all the while, getting to watch from a now insulated house? That was even better. 

“Well, I’ll obviously have to check my schedule. You know how busy I can be,” you joked, drying your hands on a paper towel from beside the sink. You turned around to throw it away but got caught between Joel and the counter, his arms coming down on either side. 

“You tease me far too much, y’know that?” He lowered his head to meet your eyeline and you took a sharp intake of breath. 

“Only because it’s far too much fun.”

He shook his head, getting close enough to close the gap and kiss you. First just short and sweet, then after a second glance, faster, and more motivated. Your hands found a place on his cheeks right away, holding him close to you while he kissed you deeper, his tongue finding its way between your lips. His hands went from beside you to under your thighs, picking you up as if you weighed nothing, and setting you down onto the edge of the counter by the sink. With your legs open, you pulled him into your body, not even realizing how roughly you’d done so. 

“Damn baby, you’re gettin’ real strong,” he chuckled, burying his face into your neck to kiss and suck marks there. Consequences and aftermath be damned, he wouldn’t stop.

“Must be from all the heavy liftin’ last week… pickin’ up your slack.”

He bit down harsher into your skin, and you moaned out a noise akin to pain and pleasure. 

“Keep talkin’ baby, I’ll show you real slack.” 

“Only gonna make me stronger,” you whispered against the side of his head, a smirk resting on your face, even in the position you were sitting. He had all the power, but you still had your little quips.

His hands at the bottom of your sweatshirt were hesitant. He talked confidently, without pause or conviction, but the truth of the matter would always remain that he was going to be hesitant with you. You’re the forbidden fruit, the thing he wasn’t supposed to touch, and yet… here he stands, his hands under your hoodie and lips thoroughly attached to the crook of your neck and shoulder. 

“Fuck it,” he let out, dragging the hem of your clothing upwards until you raised your arms for it to come off. Where it landed, you’d have no idea. You just know that in this moment, with his hands on your bare skin, you couldn’t care less if you ever saw it again. 

You’d not really paid mind to what you wore underneath it, an old red and gray tie-dye sports bra now the only thing to adorn the top of your body. He didn’t care in the slightest, far too happy to even see you in that.

He quickly moved you from the counter into his arms, journeying through the kitchen and again to the living room, just like last time… except instead of sitting down, letting you remain on his lap, he laid you back into the cushioned area, crawling over you to hover back where he had been before. 

You didn’t think it was fair to let him take off clothing while remaining fully clothed. 

“My turn,” you pushed him back, ripping at his t-shirt to try and rid him of it. It was a fresh shirt, probably just came out of the dryer last night, but you tossed it to the ground without a second thought. 

You don’t recall seeing Joel shirtless. You remember that one time at the water park after graduation, when he wore a pair of trucks, and a sun shirt. Whether it was because he was afraid of getting sunburned, or because he was self conscious, you would never know. From what you could see, you couldn’t possibly imagine it being the latter. He wasn’t ripped, or even overly toned for that matter. He had a sculpted softness about him that was completely beautiful. He doesn’t work out, but he definitely works. His arms are full and muscular from the heavy lifting, and his shoulders are naturally broad, defined by the bulk he’s put on over the years. 

You don’t know if you’ve ever seen a body like his. The boys that have pursued you at college have always been either overly scrawny, or beef cakes. They want to be the hottest thing around. Want to be desired by every girl that walks past them, just so they can feed their ego and feel better about themselves ten years from now. Joel isn’t like that. He’s got a cocky attitude about himself, but it’s more in his teasing and snarky demeanor towards you than anything else. He’s sarcastic, and cynical, but he’s not doing it for show. 

He’s old enough to realize he doesn’t have to impress anyone, because the right person will want him regardless, and you do.

You want him because he’s Joel Miller, not some body builder, or football player, or gym rat that stalks the hallways of your dorms. 

You want him for his strong arms, tan lines right where his shirts normally end. You want him for his wide shoulders, even with the little scratches from bumping into wooden framing all day. You want him for the patchy beard on his face, knowing he only keeps it because he’s far too busy, and nearly always too tired to keep up with the clean shaven look. You want him for his dark curls, graying more every day and turning the color silver when he stands in the sun. You want him for his big hands, with the calluses and rough palms, but with the softest and most gentle fingertips you’ve ever felt on your face. You want him for the softness of his stomach, though seen as a flaw by most of society, you’d much prefer it to the discomfort of a stomach toned with abs. You want him for every bit of himself. You want him because he’s perfect.

He stripped your shorts and underwear from you at once, and it amazed you how adeptly he did it. He’s been doing this for years, he knows what he’s doing, stupid.

“You alright?” He looked back at you, his eyes glazed over completely. The darkness that was there was the same lustfull darkness you’d seen before, and you anticipated what may come from it. 

“Yeah,” you smiled, watching him sink backwards and down your body. He parted your legs in a swift motion, unwilling to slow himself down on account of being so close to what he wants. “You don’t have to-”

“Shh, baby,” he pulled your hips upward and towards his face, admiring the slickness already resting between your legs before he lowered his mouth to taste it. It was so addicting, the smell of you, and he knew the second his tongue ran a long stripe up and down, he would be craving you constantly. Always on the verge of wanting you from now on. 

The noises you made, lordy, he didn’t know someone could sound like that. The very fact that you were unashamed to hide it from him, too. He loves it, how vocal you are, and how much you want him to know how he makes you feel. 

He held one finger to your entrance, coating it in your slick before plunging it deep inside of you, the curl of his knuckle making you writhe under him. He added another finger to see if you could take it. You were so tight already, and he knew that if you weren’t stretched out enough he would hurt you. 

Two fingers wasn’t necessarily painful, but it caused a bit of discomfort at first. You didn’t expect that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, but you tried to relax anyway. You wanted him so badly, wanted him entirely, and didn’t want this to put a damper on anything. 

“That’s it, sweet girl. Just like that,” he praised, trying to help you open up more with the added pressure of his thumb on your clit. The gentle circles helped you to feel less of a stretch, and the pleasure was building. You wove your hands into his hair, trying to feel a tether of reality somewhere. He kept on, and went faster, and you felt yourself at a breaking point. 

With his name on your lips, you broke apart, releasing all the tension left in your body to allow that euphoric rush to consume you. It caused your body to tremble under his, but you paid no mind to it. Once he retrieved his fingers from you, he held them up to his mouth, licking the sweetness from them that you so generously bestowed upon him. 

You tried to sit up, to reach for his belt buckle, but he stopped you. 

“Not tonight, baby,” he grabbed your hands and kissed them, the slightest bit of residue remaining on his lips. 

“But I want to.”

“I know you do,” he smiled, brushing your hair aside to kiss you now, instead. “I just don’t wanna hurt you. Let’s work towards it, okay?” 

You nodded, a bit embarrassed that you weren’t quite experienced enough to continue yet. Not to say you were inexperienced, but you definitely weren’t ready to take him yet, and he knew that for sure. The last thing he’d want to do is go too far and make it unpleasant for you. 

He’s a good man, with good intentions. Even if this relationship - whatever you want to call it - is forbidden, he’s still trying to do right by you. It’s unspoken, but you’re his girl now, and he would never hurt his girl.

.

tags: @justanothersadperson93 @moonchild-warrior @hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof @untamedheart81 @just-someone-broken @joelalorian @xybil @yvonneeeee @anoverwhelmingdin @theatrelove3000

[aziraphales-library]

Hello :)

Can the mods please recommend any somnophila fics?

I remember one where Crowley was temping Aziraphale in his sleep but that's all I really remember

Thank you

P.S. I love your work this acc keeps me sane

Hi. Here are some somnophilia fics for you. Mind the tags, folks!...

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This by Starlightdreamerstar (E)

Aziraphale read about a new carnal pleasure he’s desperate to try, luckily for him Crowley is happy to indulge his angel.

The Night Comes Down Like Heaven by MoonGoddex (E)

"You might want to double check I've locked the door once I'm gone, just in case I've been forgetful." "Right." Crowley stared him down. "I'm sure you won't forget. Because who knows what a demon could do to a sleeping angel." --- Aziraphale feigns a nap. Crowley does what demons are supposed to do with that kind of vulnerability.

Ecstasy and Exorcism by Cunninglinguist (E)

Crowley had been out for what he presumed to be 9 hours or so, peacefully drifting in darkness, enjoying the nothingness of sleep, when a dream began to take shape. It wasn’t visual as much as it was entirely sensory: a palpable presence, warm weight at his back. The smell of vanilla cream and mahogany and old books, deeply comforting, devoid of the loathed night terror’s trademark fear. Crowley sighed in contentment. Aziraphale. For as utterly horrifying as his subconscious could be, it could be just as lovely. Alternatively: Aziraphale takes advantage of Crowley while he's sleeping. Crowley is flattered.

Plausible Deniability by GayDemonicDisaster (E)

Aziraphale didn’t sleep. He didn’t really see the point. But he owned a bed. And he sometimes lay in it, and closed his eyes... For longer than he can remember, there's been a secret relationship with Crowley. But if he can't see it, then it can't be real, can it? So long as he pretends he's dreaming, it'll all be just fine. This fic does reference use of BSL/deafblind manual alphabet. Neither ineffable is deaf or blind, but alternative forms of communication are important to them, for reasons which will become apparent. They also use custom signals of their own that do not correlate to BSL signs, and likely predate them by centuries. You don't need to know any of them for the fic however, all are written in plain English.

Latent by SmutKeeper (E)

Crowley suspects that Aziraphale has a somnophilia kink and tries to tempt him into acting on it.

The Art of Temptation by Ineffably_Yours (E)

Sleeping was more complicated than Aziraphale first thought. It was hard to figure out what was real and what was a dream. Crowley wasn't making it any easier either, grinding against him in the dead of the night and making the angel feel things that he didn't understand. He'd like to say that he didn't give in to the Temptation, but the angel was so weak when it came to the demon he loved. In his defense, he thought he was dreaming. At first. (In which Crowley is a teasing little shit as he sleeps and Aziraphale makes a lot of bad choices.)

- Mod D

[sergeantnex]

Zombie!Ghost x Reader: Relearning (Smut)

When I had been called in to work with Ghost, I knew it wasn't good. He had gotten bitten trying to save people. What was his higher-ups response to this? Break his jaw and keep him confined until a cure could be found. I knew this was going to require a lot of time and patience, fixing his broken jaw and figuring out how sentient he was. Most zombies were mindless and out of control, but Ghost... Ghost seemed aware and scared. So I made it my goal to be the only person he had contact with until he was better than the way I first got to him. I knew what I was doing was working because there were signs. His graying cold skin started to gain color and a bit of warmth. His pale blue cloudy eyes began regaining their brown. Each progression was little, but I noticed them and made sure to take pictures of him every day, marking and labeling the pictures.

Ghost seemed nervous, for lack of a better word, when it came to relearning to eat and drink. So I took the lead, showing him and letting him touch me as I did. Before I gently aided him in eating and drinking, making sure to reassure him that it would take time and that I would still be here to help him. Most days were like that, helping him readjust to simple things, but one big thing remained that I felt needed to be done. Bathing him. He still smelled of blood and death, the dried blood and filth still clinging to his skin and clothing. So I went into his old room, gathered up a pair of underwear, sweatpants, and a shirt. They were clean compared to the ruined gear and uniform he was still wearing. I grabbed a soft wash cloth and gentle body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. Once it was all set up in the private bathroom, I went to enter Ghost's room. His pale brown eyes looked up at me as I stepped in. My (h/l) (h/c) softly pulled away from my face and my (e/c) eyes locking with his.

"I've got something different planned today, okay?" I said softly, watching as Ghost tilted his head curiously.

"I wanna give you a shower, help clean away some of the dried blood and grime. Don't worry, I'll be right there, okay?" I reassured him softly as I offered my hand. Ghost was slow in taking my hand before letting me lead him to the private bathroom. I took the time to slowly remove his ruined gear, setting it all in the corner before softly speaking to him.

"I need to remove your mask, okay? I made sure to grab one of your clean balaclavas from your room." He shook his head at my words and stepped back. It broke my heart. He already felt safe with his mask before he was turned, but having people you trust break your jaw and say such crude things probably made him feel even more nervous to take it off.

"Hey, Simon, it's just me with you. There are no cameras, no one else but you and I. It's okay... you're safe with me." I reassured softly as I gently took his hand and gently touched it to my heart. It was small, but the action told him I was honest. I did it to show him I was honest. Every time I said something like that, I touched his hand to my heart. He was slow to give in, but eventually, he let me pull the ruined mask off. I gently sat it on the sink counter before gently working on his ruined clothes. I made sure to set them all aside before I turned to start the water. I kept it a bit lower than room temp to make sure it wasn't too hot or too cold. I looked back at him and softly turned the water so it wouldn't hit his skin directly.

"Okay, big guy, let's get you cleaned up, okay?" I asked with a small loving smile. Ghost gently tugged my shirt before looking at his ruined clothes. It took me a minute to understand what he was asking, but after a bit, it clicked. He wanted me to join him, to guide him like I had been doing for everything else. Smiling, I gently stripped my clothes before softly leading him to the large walk-in shower. The water was a bit colder than my normal temperature, so it was a bit of a shock when I touched it with my arm. Ghost, ever the vigilant one, noticed my shuttered breath and tilted his head.

"I made sure it was perfect for you, so it's a bit cooler than my body's temperature. Don't worry, it's okay, see?" I gently stepped my body under the water to show him I didn't mind too much. Ghost stepped forward and tugged me close to him as though he wanted to keep me warm. I smiled softly and took the time to gently wet the wash cloth and softly wipe his face. I smiled more at the sight of how much he had actually healed. Of course, there was scaring, but there was no longer decaying flesh. I softly wet his dirty blonde hair, taking special care to not pull his hair. All in all, my heart warmed at the progression of his healing. Sticking to our usual form of relearning, I washed myself first before washing him. I started with his hair and face before moving down his neck and chest. With each rinse of the blood and grime, he looked more and more human again.

I gently moved lower as I washed him, kneeling to wash his waist. I did my best not to stare or let my hand linger when I gently began washing his dick. I gently held his length and balls as I continued my work of washing him up. My mind wondered as I absent-mindedly washed his legs. Could he still get hard? Could he still feel desires or needs? Or would that take longer and more healing? I stood to rinse the cloth and ready more soap but froze as Ghost leaned his chin on my shoulder. I softly reached back and gently carded my fingers through his wet hair. I jumped as his hand softly cupped my vulva, his middle finger slipping between my labia majora. I let out a shuttering breath as his middle finger gently pressed against my entrance.

"Ghost -" I started but stopped at the feeling of his hardening dick touching me. I glanced up at him to see his pale brown eyes watching me. "Ghost, do you know what you're doing right now?"

Ghost nodded softly, a low, rumbling purr bubbling up from his throat. I wouldn't lie. It had been years since I've had such intimacy or contact like this. I whined softly when he pulled back a bit before pressing me to bend over. Following his instructions, I bent at the hips, letting him do as he pleased. I gasped at the coolness of his tongue, lapping at my outer lips. His slightly rough tongue reminded me that Ghost wasn't fully human. He still very much could kill me, bite me, and turn me as well. But as quickly as the anxiety rose, it washed away. Ghost pressed his tongue between my labia majora, letting it rub at my clit before trailing to my entrance. His saliva was shockingly warm as it created a contrast to his cool skin. Whining I reached a hand to hold Ghost's rough hand gently squeezing as he ate me out like a starved man.

Ghost stood, his erect dick rubbing against me as he pressed his hips forward. My mind foggy with arousal and my body aching to be fucked, I moved to help him. I softly pressed the tip to my opening and let him press his hips forward again. His thick shaft stretched my walls beautifully, each inch making me feel fuller and fuller. I moaned out as he finally bottomed out, his hips flush against mine. His rough, firm hands gripped my hips as he pulled out before thrusting forward. I gasped loudly and moaned out at the rough pace he was setting instantly. His grip was firm enough to bruise as he kept thrusting into me quickly. I brought my arms up to brace on the wall as I soaked up each time he bottomed out. Ghost brought one hand up to grip the back of my neck as he pinned me to the wall. Growls and groans leaving him as he fucked me so deeply.

Each thrust filled me so perfectly as his balls slapped my clit just enough to add extra stimulation. I could feel my muscles quivering and tensing as my orgasm approached. His tip kissing my cervix each time he sank all the way in. Ghost leaned in mouthing at my shoulder like he was going to bite me. I knew I should've been alarmed, but I my mind was too foggy with the need to cum that it blew caution to the wind. His hot drool gently trailed down my body only to get rinsed away by the water. His disfigured hand covered my mouth a bit as I grew louder with each thrust. My knees began shaking as my walls pulsed around his shaft. I mewled out loudly, the sound muffled by his hand as I began cumming. My hand desperately grasped at his arm as euphoria flooded my body and mind.

A heavy growl filled my muffled hearing as Ghost also began spilling his seed inside me. The fluid was hot as it squirted deep inside me, some of it seeping out past his thick shaft and began running down my legs. My body felt so tired and yet so satisfied as Ghost pulled away. I could feel his eyes take in the sight of the mess he made of me before a pleased rumble filled the quiet. I felt oddly content and relaxed at what happened. It took me a few minutes to regain my strength before I turned the water off and exited the shower. Ghost following closely behind, I took time to grab his towel and dry him off before helping him get dressed. Once I fixed his mask, I began drying and dressing myself. Ghost's cool fingers softly scooped his leaking seed before lifting it to my lips. Without hesitation, I licked his cum off his finger drawing another pleased rumble from him.

"This better not mess with my body, mister." I lightly scold him. Ghost merely rumbled and held me close a bit. I smiled and led him back to his room before laying on his bed with a soft sigh as my legs felt weak from him fucking me in the shower. Ghost climbed next to me, where he softly held me close. A sense of safety and warmth washed over me, letting my tired body subconsciously lure me to sleep. I knew no one, and nothing could touch me as long as I had Ghost with me. No matter if he was human or not, I knew I was safe with him.

"I love you, Simon..." I whispered as I fought to keep my eyes open. My mind drifted between reality and the dream world as I fought to stay awake. His cool hand gently moved to play with my hair as he watched me.

"Love... you..." His words were deeper and more gravelly, more so than his usual. Smiling sleepily, I snuggled closer to him, letting my body give in to tiredness.

[skepsiss]

For Steddie prompts -- I'm always a fan of older Steve and Eddie, like them in the 90's and still pining type of nonsense

That or them as camp councilors, for Summertime for us Northern Hemispherers ♥️✨

Pining in the 90s.... hmmm, as in they're not together yet? I'm going to take this in a rather AU way, hope you like it! Ooops, it's almost 2,000 words.... but whatever. (Anyone can send me a prompt! Please do) --

Eddie hoisted his guitar up his shoulder, grunting as he picking up his duffle and staggered away from the bus. It was a mild summer day, and he was pleased he had gotten in early to camp, even if he missed getting the extra sleep.

Eddie wasn't exactly 'a morning person,' but mornings came with their perks as Eddie took in the familiar sight of Camp Callingwood. He had never frequented the camp as a kid, but he had started as a seasonal camp counsellor in the late 80s as a last-ditch effort to not be homeless for the summer. It turned out to be one of the best decisions of his life because he had met some of the best people in the world. It was 'one of those perks' and Eddie couldn't help but look around to try and catch a glimpse of the guy he was looking for.

Like a sunbeam on a cloudy day, Eddie caught sight of Steve Harrington making his way down the dirt path toward the bus drop-off. He was talking to a younger woman who was also wearing the counsellor uniform, but Eddie didn't waste time waving Steve over. It took a beat, but Steve smiled wide when he saw Eddie.

"Hey!" Steve called over before saying something quickly to the young woman and then trotting up to Eddie. "Hey, man. I wasn't sure if you'd be coming around this summer."

"Wouldn't miss it," Eddie said cheerfully, letting Steve grab his duffle bag so they could start walking toward the cabins.

"No big break yet then, huh?" Steve asked, saying a few quick hellos to the other counsellors that had just been dropped off.

"You seen my name in the tabloids?" Eddie joked, only feeling a small pinch of embarrassment over Steve's comment. He hadn't made it big despite how much he talked up his music. He knew he was good, but there wasn't always an agent who could see that in the music biz. Still, he was nearly 26 now, and without a break soon, he feared he wouldn't make it at all.

"I guess not," Steve laughed, talking easily with Eddie along the quiet forest path. "Definitely would have taken notice to seeing you. You still selling songs?"

"Yeah, doing pretty good there," Eddie admitted, shyly glancing at Steve as he tried to gauge his attitude toward all of this.

Eddie was doing well in the 'selling songs' department; he could churn out hits for anyone, but it wasn't the music he wanted to play. It sucked that metal didn't seem to be in fashion right now, but no part of him wanted to change his whole personality to fit what was 'popular.'

"Wrote one for Whitney Houston recently," Eddie proclaimed, feeling a bit proud of that sell.

"No shit?" Steve asked, sounding surprised before he bumped his shoulder into Eddie's. "Good for you, man. Cool."

Eddie smiled stupidly, liking the roughness and how boyishly charming it was. When he had first gotten to Camp Callingwood all those years ago, Steve had already been a seasoned veteran at the game. From what Eddie knew, he ran the site year-round now, and maintained the grounds during the off-season too. Eddie was only a temp, but Steve seemed so pleased to see him every year. And every year… Eddie always tentatively sussed out whether or not Steve was still single.

"Any interesting changes?" Eddie asked, glancing at Steve from under his lashes, trying to keep things casual. "No… well, I got a dog," Steve smiled, opening the door to Eddie's cabin for him. "Pepper--she's great company during the winter. It can get pretty lonely up here by yourself."

"New dog, but no lady?" Eddie joked lightly, hoping the answer was no.

"No, no lady," Steve laughed, dropping Eddie's bag on the bunk bed. "They tend not to be great company in the winter when they have to rough it--in my experience."

Eddie laughed lightly, unable to hold back the little bloom of heat in his chest. Steve really was 'one of those perks' and Eddie could hardly wait for camping season to begin so he could sign up as a counsellor again. He liked the kids, and he had fun teaching everyone how to play the guitar, or hosting the 'in-door activities' for the kids that didn't quite fit in with the others, but the real reason he kept coming back was Steve. He wished it wasn't just a temporary thing, but he chickened out asking for more every year he was here.

"Don't get too comfortable," Steve offered, swaying and leaning on the pole of the bunk bed, looking casual as could be. "We've got a lot of kids these first few weeks so I might need to move you into the big house. You don't mind dogs, right?"

The big house was Steve's permanent residence, and it was a proper home rather than the bunk rooms the counsellors and kids usually slept in.

"No--yeah, dogs are fine," Eddie said quickly, "wouldn't mind meeting Pepper though--if you're not up to anything else right now?"

"Sure, I'll see if I can find her. She's probably running around somewhere. She's a bear dog, you know? Well, not for like attacking bears or whatever, but she does a good job of keeping them away," Steve explained, motioning for Eddie to follow him.

Eddie put his guitar down on the bed and followed Steve out, not sure if he knew what Steve meant by 'bear-dog.'

Almost as soon as they got outside Steve was yelling Pepper's name and whistling as he walked toward the mess hall.

"Did you get some new tattoos?" Steve asked as they continued to walk around the camp. Other counsellors were moving about and setting things up or settling into their cabins, the site a hive of activity.

"Yeah, one on my arm and one on my thigh," Eddie said, twisting to show off his new ink. That was another thing he liked about Steve: he didn't seem bothered at all that Eddie had tattoos, even though they were still considered quite scandalous to most employers.

"One more too on my chest, but I'll save that one for later," Eddie joked lightly, pleased to be asked about his ink.

"Later for sure," Steve retorted with a smile, and Eddie blinked at him as he tried to decipher what he meant by that. Later how?

Eddie didn't get the chance to dwell on that thought though as Steve hollered Pepper's name again and Eddie watched as a large white mass bounded toward them through the trees.

"There she is," Steve said pleasantly, crouching down to greet the dog.

Pepper was a Great Pyrenees and far too big for Steve to be crouching down for.

She bounded into him and turned happily, letting Steve rough her up with pets and scratches. He was cooing and making pleasant sounds of affection at her as she wagged her tall and rubbed her head under his chin.

"She's still a puppy, only a little over one year old," Steve explained as he stood back up and Pepper turned her attention to Eddie.

"She's big," Eddie said, a little surprised by the dog's size as she bumped into his hip, looking for attention. He gave her a few good scratches, unable to stop himself from smiling.

"She's friendly--might try and sleep with you," Steve joked lightly, motioning for Pepper to sit.

She obeyed quickly and Eddie grinned as he watched her pant happily, looking for more commands.

"So this is her first summer with the kids?" Eddie asked, crouching down like Steve had before and scratching and rubbing Pepper's neck.

"Yeah, well, in this amount. We get some winter scouts and groups like that, so she has been around kids and she's great with them, but she'll probably be excited to have so many people to spoil her."

Eddie laughed, charmed by how in love Steve was with his dog. If Steve was still single, and he was pouring all of his affection in to a dog… Eddie couldn't see why shooting his shot would hurt. He had backed off every year since he met Steve, but he was feeling determined to at least confirm that Steve wasn't interested in him. They were pals, and sometimes they wrote to one another during the year, but Eddie really wasn't sure how receptive Steve was to the whole… queer thing. He did know that they'd had queer kids at camp before, and Steve had always been gentle and accepting of them, so his attitude couldn't be all negative.

"Let's go grab your keys," Steve said suddenly, and Eddie stood up to follow him. "I'll just give you a master this year, easier that way. It opens all the bunk houses and the utility rooms--and the big house. Easier than trying to sort out all the rings."

Eddie nodded, feeling a small flush creep up his cheeks. It felt rather intimate to be given a key to Steve's house, even if it technically was part of camp property.

Steve handed him the kitschy keychain and Eddie quickly added it to his own keyring.

"Don't lose it," Steve said, sounding only moderately strict. "I only have three of those. You and me are the only ones that'll have them, I don't want to hand out the spare."

"Oh," Eddie frowned, glancing up at Steve. "Are you sure you want to give it to me?"

"Yeah, I trust you, man. Plus, I don't mind you letting yourself in whenever," Steve grinned, walking over to his desk and rooting around the papers there.

Eddie pinched his brow in with confusion, not sure how to react to that. What did he mean by 'letting yourself in whenever'? It sounded so off-handed, but Eddie had no clue if he was supposed to take that seriously or… flirtatiously.

Steve had always been friendly, but this felt like it went a bit beyond friendly.

Eddie swallowed lightly, mustering the courage to speak as Steve turned back around with a clipboard in his hand.

"I could move my stuff into your place now, if you want," Eddie asked, idly picking his nail polish. "Easier than having to do it later. Just… make it my spot for the summer."

It was Steve's turn to stare as they stood there quietly for a beat, before Steve seemed to shake himself from his astonishment.

"Yeah! For sure---that's cool, let's do that," Steve agreed quickly, smiling again but not making a move toward the door.

"You want to show me the room I'll be staying in?" Eddie asked, feeling his confidence grow a bit.

"Yes--yeah," Steve waffled, sounding pleased but a bit surprised for some reason. "Follow me."

Eddie chewed his lip lightly and looped his arms behind his back as he followed Steve out of the cabin. He wasn't certain, but Steve had seemed sort of… flustered by the prospect of them actually sharing a living space. The idea of that encouraged Eddie, and he grinned privately to himself as he thought about retiring for the evening with Steve in his little cabin in the woods. It felt… romantic and it really did set Eddie up to succeed.

Eddie was going to make this summer the summer he asked Steve on a date. He wasn't going to chicken out again.

[itshype]

Please don’t pet me! I am working! (DC x DP)

The Service Animal Cujo notfic that I, personally requested but just like my extremely cringe Batman x Witcher fic, I have to do everything myself. I wrote this but held off during DC x DP week because I’m not participating in that. If I keep writing these, I’ll have to make a masterpost or probably whack them up on Ao3 for archive purposes at some point but for now: Here is the Space Obsessed Danny story and Here is the Kingmaker Danny story! CW for mention of panic attacks in this one!

So! Let’s get going. Danny died. He can’t stop thinking it. He was dead. He’s walking and talking now but he knows deep in his soul that everything’s different now. He was dead and somehow nothing has changed? He feels like something of his journey to hell itself should be visible in his skin – something more than the small exit scar on his left foot. Another dimension was opened through his body and his hairstyle didn’t even shift?

Sam and Tucker are just as freaked out as he is, but they aren’t nearly as frightened. The ghost powers and Halfa stigma won’t come until later, but right now Danny is having difficulty even considering the possibility of leaving the house. With Danny in such bad condition emotionally, there’s no way to cover up what happened, and Jazz takes them all to the hospital.

Now, I know in a lot of fanfics Danny has weird physiology even in human form (lower body temp, slower pulse etc) but I don’t remember any of that being canon so I’m ignoring it. And if it is canon then I am exercising my right to debone the original show like a small chicken and use it to make a flavourful stock.

So, Danny checks out with the doctors except for a weirdly tiny burn but he is having like 5 concurrent panic attacks about everything from “there’s nothing after we die”, “The electricity cooked me”, “Life has no meaning”, maybe even throw in a fun “I came back wrong”.

Hell, maybe he does have weirdly low vitals, but the rapid pulse is countering his slow heartbeat and decreased blood pressure etc. Up to you!

Danny probably ends up being sedated if he can’t calm down but by then there is a different issue. The doctors Fenton have arrived. Now, I think it’s no stretch of the imagination to say that under the wrong circumstances they would dissect Phantom if they got their hands on him but also I know they somewhat care for their children and canon has shown more than once that under good circumstances that they could accept Danny.

When his ghost sense goes off for the first time it’s pretty obvious. He’s in a hospital and instead of a tiny little whisp of silver breath; it’s like a fogbank creeping along a moor, its sea mist rolling in from the horizon of his mouth and whiting out his private hospital room. No one can see two meters in front of their own face, and it takes over a minute to fade. Sam screams out for Danny and tries to grab his hand where she knows it was but can no longer see. Tucker starts at the sound and drops his device, screeching gratingly at the clattering plastic of his PDA hitting linoleum, hard.

When the mist finally evaporates, the Fentons want to take him home immediately and run tests. They think the ghostly influence is ‘obvious’ but the 68-year-old nurse, Beatrice stands like a 5-foot-nothing wall of solid rock and won’t let them touch him. Jazz also angles herself between her parents and the door so if they did somehow manage to get their hands on Danny, they wouldn’t be able to leave without steamrolling her. Then the heartrate monitor goes wild as Danny panics about being a guinea pig for his parents’ less-than-lukewarm lab safety practices and they back off without further interruptions.

That’s the point when it hits them that everything that has happened to Danny is their fault. His accident was because of them, he’s melting down because of them, both of their children genuinely believe that they will hurt Danny just because he’s having weird ghostly side effects to almost dying in a ghost portal. One they built.

It’s a few hours later when they breach the subject of going home, of at the very least making a decision about school even if that decision is to formally take a leave of absence. Sam and Tucker’s parents had made them go home and he’s a lot calmer now but at this stage, his weird ghost powers are causing problems. It seems to the orderlies and nurses that his anxiety is getting worse because he’s turning intangible through cups and cutlery – making it look like he’s shaking so hard he can’t even hold a single cup, and is flat out refusing to eat.  

Even though it’s been less than a day it looks like Danny’s shock is just getting worse. He phases through his bed right as Beatrice and his parents walk through and they think he��s hiding under there out of fear. He tries to explain, confused, and disoriented and deep in denial. Jazz shuts him up. She doesn’t know completely what’s going on, but she knows enough, and she isn’t letting 12 hours of changed behaviour force her to blindly trust her parents.

Beatrice is most concerned. It hasn’t been very long but there’s no reasonable cause for his steep and steady decline. No reason outside of something-something-ghosts.  

That’s when the first few pamphlets come out about therapy animals. They require some time to be trained and the middle of nowhere Amity Park doesn’t exactly have a pool to choose from, but it’s okay to adopt a younger animal and train it themselves.

Danny looks at the pictures of the fluffy bunnies and alert-eared dogs with big, glistening eyes. Then puts them down. There’s no way an animal would be safe in his house.

That’s when the ghosts attack. Danny isn’t the only spectre with a ghost sense and these ghosts are less human due to a lack of ectoplasm. Obviously, the silver fog reappears, and, in his terror, Danny drops to the next floor of the hospital, glitching through his bed and the floor underneath it. He crashes painfully in the middle of the gift shop.

His parents reach the conclusion that due to his extreme ectoplasm contamination; he’s developed a serious allergy to ectoplasmic weaponry, including things like ectoblasts that ghosts have naturally. They’re not…the wrongest that they could be. Unfortunately, they decide that Evil Ghosts TM can sense this weakness and are trying to kill their poor baby boy. Everyone else is freaking out about ghosts being visibly proven but the Fentons knew ghosts were real with zero doubts so they’re rolling with it.

Now, due to the knowledge that he died, Danny is having difficulty worrying about other things like catching up with schoolwork, his weird new allergies/powers or even Dash.

BTW KUDOS to anyone still reading, I know this part was really long, but I really felt like I couldn’t just flim flam over the details of why Danny would need an emotional support/service animal even if it’s fictional.

First day back at school, the Lunch Lady attacks. Danny barely eeks out a win just like in canon.

His parents decide that this is because of the allergies and the ghosts being able to sense Danny’s weakness as I said above. And they take it upon themselves to root out the problem at its source, to find all the ghosts who could hurt their son and imprison them, partly for Danny’s safety and partly for study. Not even they are sure where the divide is between their two loyalties.

So, they look to their now-functioning portal.

Unfortunately, they were massively underprepared, and they don’t come back.

 Jazz sees the locked lab door and leaves them to it, making dinner and making sure Danny knows she wants him to be at school.

He doesn’t go, she lets him not go.

Two days later the boredom is worse than his fear. He goes to school. Danny, Sam and Tucker enter like a single unit. Dash tries some shit and either:

Jazz emerges and smacks his head hard enough he loses vision for several seconds – long enough for her to knee him hard enough to put the continuance of the Baxter lineage into question.

Danny starts panicking again. The teachers always want to side with Dash but him openly attacking a kid who was just in the hospital who doesn’t even lift a finger in defence of himself is beyond the limits of any sane adult’s “boys will be boys”.

Doesn’t really matter, the point is that he’s not looking to fuck around any time soon now that he’s already found out. But he did in fact attack Danny.

Danny goes home. His first attempt at school following his death has failed.

Tucker, separately, goes to a garage sale to buy old electronics to use in his PDA upgrades. He buys a boxful of weird lab equipment that definitely has a microchip or two. When he opens it at Danny’s house as an effort to distract him, a small pink teddy falls out. No one notices it bounce beneath the sofa. Sam or Jazz brings up the support animal idea again but is reminded of the whole “our house is a toxic waste site” thing and backs off.

Weeks pass, Danny develops his ghost powers and Jazz realises their parents are actually missing. She submits a missing person report mentioning the switched-on portal – the lab door was locked from the inside.

So, when Danny wakes up one day and there’s a glowing green dog already with a collar and a toy he thinks “ah yes, a dog that my sibling has procured for me as we discussed many times to help me cope with my own mortality, the near-constant ghost attacks and my parents who vanished.”

So, he puts a leash on Cujo who is happily chewing on his little pink teddy and takes him off to school while Jazz is using her first free period to go bother the local cops about their parents. (Why haven’t they been taken in by child protective services? Either:

Because I said so

Jazz is 18

Jazz used her improbable psychology powers to bamboozle the social worker into leaving)

Everyone at school loves Cujo. He gets all the love and does a very good job of dragging Danny away from ghost attacks (so he can fight them!!)

Jazz doesn’t find out about Cujo until the afternoon but probably lets the whole thing lie because it’s a great solution.

This could go on for some time. Both Danny and Phantom have Cujo but as Phantom Cujo stays in his big form so there’s no connection made. Canon mostly proceeds as normal except the parents aren’t there and there’s no huge issue with Valerie.

Realistically, a fair few high schoolers are probably also on the hunt for a pet ghost dog because if Danny and Danny both have one there must be heaps going around. Danny is also worried about his parents and periodically looks for them but that isn’t the focus of this story so I won’t go into a lot of detail – just clarifying that he’s not a sociopath who finds out his parents are missing and goes “oh ok”.

This could be its own story but let’s get to the DC part now!!

Eventually the Justice League connects the two calls, one about the ghost dog and one about the parents disappearing through a portal. Maybe Valerie complains, or even fanon favourite Wes contacts the authorities about the ghost dog with no official training or certification. Either way the JLA algorithm picks up these two very strange claims from one town and send someone to investigate.

But I mean, parents vanishing from a locked room and a green dog aren’t exactly world ending stuff, so instead of sending an actual busy superhero they send one of the kid heroes.

Now a lot of people will go ahead and put Damian into this. But I don’t really care for him in a dynamic with Danny. But I have another vigilante in mind, one who is less animal crazy, but more dog focused and also has issues with being seen as an actual person.

That's right, it's Conner Kent. And his faithful alien dog Krypto. I've seen a few fics where Danny adopts him, but you know what other family member should think you're an actual person? Your significant other. This could totally be a friendship thing no problem, but I do feel like some versions of canon Connor Kent would get on great with Danny.

Without the looming, repeated threat of vivisection, I think Danny would be a lot more chill about his secret identity and would probably disclose Cujo’s origins to Superboy. Once Connor knows about Cujo (Phantom’s dog) being able to shrink, he can see Danny with the dog once and connect all the necessary dots. Because I stand by the fact that the main reason Danny’s secret ID isn’t discovered more is because there’s no reason for a dead person to have a secret identity but once the concept is introduced then it’s pretty simple. Connor can hang out with Phantom while Phantom does ghost fights because the Kryptonian can’t really contribute but he’s there for moral support.

Eventually, Danny reveals to Connor that he himself was cloned before and talks excitedly about his clone who he considers a cousin. I definitely think without the parents there that Dani would visit more even if she has an obsession with travel, wanderlust or freedom that prevents her from permanently moving in.

This knowledge makes him very upset about how he was treated by his genetic donors, and Connor decides to move in with the Fenton siblings (without really asking the Fenton siblings) and decides that he’ll commute to the watchtower/titans tower/mount justice (depending on which version of canon he’s in sorry I can’t be bothered to figure it out).

Unfortunately, on top of not asking the Fentons, he doesn’t notify or ask anyone in the caped community. So as far as any of them are concerned, Connor went on a minor mission to investigate some missing people and is now himself missing.

Just as a caveat because I don’t feel like getting into an argument today, I used the terms both “service animal” and “emotional support animal” even though in most countries these are not interchangeable legal definitions. I use it in a non-legal way here because emotionally helping Danny – especially when that emotional stress causes physical damage is a service, and also there is the potential for Cujo to help Danny in other physical ways.

Also, there is definitely room here for Dani being buds with Match. I think that'd be neat.

If I could draw, I would make art of Cujo and Krypto being besties but I cannot so just picture it for two seconds. Done? Great, thanks!

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

What would Erik do if he found out the love of his life got married and had a kid when he went MIA for a few years while on a military mission? Would he track her down at her job and be waiting in the car for her? Would he walk in her office and lock the door? Would he give a fuck about that other plan b nigga?

Destiny had just dropped her twin boys off to her mom’s who agreed to watch them over night so that her and her husband could have some much needed alone time. The kids would be turning two years old soon and Destiny had a lot of party planning to do. She’s s stay at home mom and her husband has a six figure job and pays all the bills. A day for Destiny consists of waking up to get the toddlers together, make her husband breakfast, do her morning Pilates while her son’s played with their toys, take a shower during their scheduled nap time, and then run errands. Errands that includes Home Goods, Starbucks, a pedicure, and a shopping spree, all with her husband’s money.

Destiny didn’t always live like this. Before her husband came into the picture, she was madly in love with a man who she couldn’t keep up with if she tried. Erik Stevens. He was a man full of secrets and living a double life that she knew nothing about because it was for her own safety. Destiny grew tired of lying to her family and friends about Erik, waiting around to start a family and become a wife, watching him pack his bags the next day after he hadn’t been home for 24 hrs. The nerve of him to show up unannounced in the dead of night and thrust ten inches of fat dick up in her with her knees by her ears after being gone with no explanation.

This time around, he’d been gone for two years. Destiny had enough. She blocked him from everything and packed up and moved to Beverly Hills where she got a job as a teacher. There she met her husband who already had a child of his own and they were married within the next year. It’s year three that Erik hadn’t showed up and it’s not like he would be able to find her…right?

Destiny entered her luxury home and went to take a shower and get herself dressed. What Destiny hadn’t noticed is a man dressed in all black waiting for her in her husband’s office. She could see the door was ajar and not thinking anything of it, she walked up to the door only to find the lamp light on. Destiny had an uneasy feeling in her gut. Her husband never left the lamp light on or his office door opened. Destiny pushed it open further and boot covered feet caught her eyes first. The more the door swung back, the more this intruder came to be. Black fitted long sleeve top, black cargos, black boots, shoulder length locs with a temp fade.

“Hi, princess.”

That husky voice could only be from one person.

“Erik.”

She stood paralyzed in that doorway. He slipped his legs from the desk and leaned in, using his finger tips to push the lamp so that it could ignite his face more. When that light appeared across his face Destiny’s eyes went wide. He’s still just as fine as he was three years ago only this time he was bigger; more intimidating.

“Erik—how did you—”

“It was easy. Took me some time to get to you because I’ve been so busy but I’ve been keeping an eye on you. You’re married now?”

Erik picked up a framed family photo from her husband’s desk. Erik reclined back in the chair, fingers stroking his mouth as he studied the photo. It was eerily silent. Destiny watched him with terrified eyes.

“Twins?” Erik questioned.

“Y—Yes.”

“You have the life you always wanted.”

Erik sat the photo down gently. His eyes looked up at Destiny.

“You know, I always thought you’d be waiting for me. Silly of me, right? To think you would want this life with me and only me.”

Destiny looked everywhere but at him.

“You never wanted this, Erik. If you did, you wouldn’t have pushed me away. I was down for whatever back then. Things have changed.”

Hmm,” Erik pushed himself up from his seat behind the desk, “Are you happy?”

“I am. I have beautiful children. I’m a happy wife. I don’t have to wake up wondering if my husband will disappear for months—”

“Your husband ain’t shit, ma.”

Destiny blinked at Erik.

“Excuse me?”

Erik walked around the desk and picked up a folder. He handed it to Destiny. She took it from his grasp and opened it. When she did, the pictures before her eyes shocked her. With a hand to her mouth, tears began to fall from her eyes.

“He’s having an affair. She works for him. It’s been going on since you two have been married.”

“H—I don’t understand.”

Erik started taking steps towards her but Destiny created space between them again.

“Is this who you want to spend the rest of your life with?” Erik questioned.

Destiny looked up at Erik. She still couldn’t believe he was there. All of her old feelings seemed to come back. All the emotions and physical reactions towards him that she kept hidden away. It was overwhelming how one unexpected visit could make that big of an impact. Despite being furious with him, she was happy to see that he was alive and well.

“I had this man’s babies. He proposed to me. So all I am is the mother of his children who takes care of the house while he goes out and does his dirt?”

Destiny’s hands trembled with rage. She thought she would break down and cry but she was more angry with herself than anything. How could she be so stupid? This woman that her husband is messing around with has been around her children. Their busy taking vacations together, her husband purchased her a home, and their welcoming a child.

“Say the word and I’ll kill him.”

Destiny’s eyes snapped up to stare at Erik. She always knew he had a sinister side to him. She always guessed that he was a killer. He didn’t outright admit to it, but there were too many signs hinting towards it. Random stashes of guns, unexplainable bruises and injuries, military-like reflexes. It was just all too telling.

“I mean it. I’ll end his fuckin’ life.”

“You can’t just show up again and think by giving me this everything is good! You left me for two years! What makes you think that I want anything to do with you!”

Erik gave her a sly smirk.

“You never got over me. You only used this nigga as a bandaid. You thought you were in love. Yeah, you had two kids, but that doesn’t mean you truly love him. Probably been a minute since you had that, right? It was a fairytale in the beginning and then reality set in. After the kids he didn’t touch you? After he made you his wife you were to stay home and take care of things? You’re better than that, baby.”

Destiny tried to turn away from Erik but he grabbed her chin to look at him. She didn’t bother to fight him. She knew his words were true.

“I hate that you had kids with that bitch ass motherfucker.”

Erik glanced down at her lips before walking away towards a closet in the office. There, he opened the closet door and Destiny’s hands flew up to cover her mouth. There, bound and gagged was her cheating husband. He was bloodied and beaten.

“He doesn’t deserve you. He never deserved you.”

[fishsticksloser]

OH i thought of this one!!

A rottmnt fluff HC of the boys (including their future turtles) reacting to female reader who decided to name their first baby by their husband's name?

Like reader and turtle (separately) are married and she decided to name the first new born baby as " leo jr " or " Raph jr "...etc, just because of how much she loves her husband.

Naming Babies

RotTMNT x fem!reader

Warnings: eggs hatching, egg laying, fluff

A/N: There's nothing explicit. I assume it'd be eggs, I dunno how it all works... Future them will be added to the normal boys. Donnie's is a girl because I 100% believe he'd make sure his son was named Galileo. I've posted an info dump about what I learned... Holy shit... Also I hate naming kids after their fathers, I have a friend who's like the 16th or something crazy and he's going to continue it, but similar names, yes all for it.

Donnie

Donnie had been stressing out

Sure, he'd done research, he was prepared

Just not mentally

After the egg was laid though, he became a lot less stressed

You have almost 3 months to get everything ready (82-84 days)

He worked hard

Also making sure that the incubator stayed at the correct temp

When it was time for it to hatch, he was shaky

The egg hatched and a small turtle mutant came out

You gently picked it up and cleaned it up

"It's a girl."

You held her as she chirped softly, staring at you and Donnie

"What's her name?"

"Donatella."

At first Donnie was shocked

Sure you guys had discussed names and that was one of them

But he hadn't expected you to actually choose it

Still he's happy, not necessarily about the name, but because he has 2 beautiful girls in his life.

Future Donnie:

The moment the egg began hatching, he dropped everything

His family crowded close by, not wanting to scare the new member

She was beautiful

"Donatella."

"Huh?"

"Donatella, that's her name."

He smiles wide

Donnie was touched that you decided to name her after him

Leo

2 eggs

That's what he saw

I guess twins run in the family

He panicked, wanting to make everything perfect for them

He kept a close eye on the incubator

They had Shelldon keep an eye on them so when they started hatching, they'd know

It could be 2 months or 4, there was no telling

When the eggs started hatching, he ran to get everyone

Leo was so excited to meet them

He bounced, unable to stop moving

Unfortunately only 1 was hatching

Not to fret, the other 2 might just be taking longer

"What are you naming him?"

"Leon."

"Strong name." -Splinter

"Yeah... Reminds me of someone."

Leo nudges you a smile splitting his face

Future Leo:

"They're hatching!"

Mikey had been watching over them

Everyone rushes over

These are the first grandkids of Hamato Yoshi after all

You both gently picked one up, cleaning them thoroughly

"Girls."

"You go first."

"Leonora."

He smiled, not clicking that it was the female version of his own name

"Atsuko."

Splinter gasps, tears coming to his eyes

"Wait... Leonora?"

You nod and he kisses you hard

Mikey

Probably the best while you laid your eggs

He was freaking out inside though.

Still he did his best

He made sure to keep you comfortable even after they were in the incubator

They were the most agonizing days of his life

Just waiting to meet his beautiful babies

90 days passed and nothing

Almost 10 days later, they were finally hatching

You both took one, cleaning gently

"Boy and girl."

"Names? Any ideas?"

You held your tiny baby boy

"Angelo."

"Miwa."

Then he blinked in confusion

"Angleo?"

"Yeah... It's a nice name don't you think?"

He's really happy

You chose a name similar to his own

Future Mikey:

You both watched as the small egg shook and started opening

Mikey grabbed your shoulders, shaking you gently out of excitement

"It's a girl."

"Congrats, Miguel."

You both smiled at each other, your tiny girl holding her hands up

"Michaela."

Mikey looks at you, a little shocked

A smile spills across his face, tucking you into his chest

Raph

Probably the most freaked out

He panicked even after they were in the incubators

Luckily you had about 3 months to calm him down

The issue?

It was like once he finally calmed down, they were hatching

He shifted uncomfortably, watching them open the shells

You reached in, taking the small turtle

"A boy."

"Names. What's his name!?"

"Raphael."

"What?"

Raph didn't catch what you were talking about

He zoned out looking at the baby boy

"Our baby's name. Raphael."

He stared at you

It still wasn't clicking

"Sigh... She's named him Raphael after you."

"Oh..."

Tears came to his eyes, looking back at his son

Future Raph:

He was excited and very scared

This wasn't exactly the world he wanted to bring his kids into

But as he watched the small tooth break through the shell, he realized he would do anything for his child

"It's a girl."

"She's beautiful..."

He held her gently, she rubbed her face against his large thumb

"Rafaela."

Raph looked up, smiling sweetly, tears rolling down his cheeks

"It's perfect."

[eliecasa]

warnings: none!

summary: reader & könig share an ice bath :3 while you mentally list the things you like about him.

wrdcnt: 3K

The metal door creaks loudly and heavily, sounding off in the empty hallway as you step in with your towel hanging on your arm. A big ‘whoosh’ can be heard when the door shuts behind you, keeping you in the freezer like room as well as catching the attention of the only other person in the room. Wide and brown eyes flicker towards you with the swivel of the persons head, delighting you in an instant.

‎‏‏‎

“Hey, König.”

As a reaction, he abruptly sat up out of his slouch, exposing his nude triceps and abdomen while nearly throwing the freezing ice and water out of the metal tub he was sitting in. The wet material of the bottom half of his veil dangles, wet and heavy.

Before you can even pretend to not laugh at him, your teeth come on display with a humored grin as you began walking over to an unoccupied metal tub.

As if he just sat in the freezing water, his chest began to rise and fall a lot quicker than what it usually was. You’d only just got here but he can already feel the heat burning across his chest. Out of all the ways you could’ve have greeted him, why’d you have to say his name like this all the time? In his mind, König thought you wanted him to fawn over you on purpose.

Maybe that honey in your voice was reserved for him only. After all that time of observing you, he came to the conclusion that you spoke to him extra sweetly to trap him. Sure, his shyness puts him on the sidelines when you’re talking with other people around base but at least that lets him see what type of person you are from a distance. He’s done it long enough to become solid with the fact that he feels for you more than just a teammate.

It’s not far-fetched to say that you could’ve been at fault for the way that he stammers and sweats around you but even he knew that it was partly his fault. Nobody told him to be at your beck and call whenever a new mission would come up and definitely nobody told him to sit and make you laugh whenever it was just the two of you at the canteen.

If he knew that your laugh would make him feel the same way that your smile would, he wouldn’t have found you in the first place.

König found himself stuck like a spider that had created his own web of honey.

The loud ruckus of ice dumping into your metal bath snatches him out of his head, bringing him back into the tension of the ice room. “Yknow, I never expected you to be so fit.”

You wolf whistle, taking a moment from your pour to look him over. He nods before shrugging, meeting your eyes before looking at his shorts through the water and ice. “Me neither,” he drly jokes, still somehow making you laugh. Underneath his veil, the corner of his lip fights to stay down despite his feelings. “You’re so cute, König.” You trail off, heading to turn the faucet near your bath.

It wasn’t everyday that you called him cute. At times you’d call him hot, adorable… and on the rarest of days, you’d call him your military husband. That nickname was his favorite. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of the blush that was tightening his cheeks with every passing second. If you kept talking to him, the ice in his bath would melt before you were out of here.

After checking the temperature of the water pouring into your bath, you hum and settle your hands onto your hips, turning to könig with a small frown on your face. “Was your water a bit warm?”

“Cold enough to freeze.”

The bunch of your eyebrows quickly disperse as you smile and began trotting towards him. “W-what are you doing?” He stammers. To show him that you’ll do no harm, you raise your hands and come to a stop at the end of his bath. “Don’t trip, i’m just checking your temp.”

“Why’re you checking mine?”

You only smirk and stick you hand into the water, your hair shields the mischievous grin that stretched across your face. He remains still, trying not to disturb the stillness of the ice as you pull your hand back.

“That’s pretty cold.”

And without warning, your hands come down to tug off the shirt that you wore.

If König could get any stiffer than he already was, he would turn into a statue. Behind his mask, you can see a little bit of the whites of his eyes and the sight made you belly laugh, nearly causing you to fall over as you worked your feet out of your pants. “What’s wrong? You blushing under that thing?”

“I- I… no?” he hunched his shoulders, speechless at the way you meekly slip into his bath, shamelessly sitting on his legs from the other end as he does his best to control his breathing. “Y/N, your water is still—“

“Shh.” you raise a finger, wincing at the freezing cold water. He doesn’t try to argue and instead let you adjust, his fingers clawing at the rough fabric of his shorts as you scoot down, furthering your seating up onto his knees. “Phew, this does not get any easier.”

By now, König’s entire chest was red. Was it because he was holding his breath, was it because of anxiety, or was it because of his lieutenant sitting in his ice bath with him? Either way, he was about to jump out and run down the hallway in his shorts. Tension in his chest builds and builds enough for him to take his arms out of the water and instead rest them on the rim of the bath.

“This isn’t uncomfortable, is it?” you lock eyes with him as you slid down further, going far enough for your knees to come out of the water.

“Why’re you warming mine up, you’re going to melt all of my ice—“

“You don’t wanna share with me?”

“Yes, but—“

“Ah, I knew it. ‘Always wanting me around.” you tease, poking your foot into his belly. Your toe accidentally went directly into one of the chiseled abs that he apparently didn’t even have to work for. Before you can blink, your ankle is tight in his grip and you were unable to settle your feet down again, making your lips part in surprise.

The pair silently stare at each other with nervousness bubbling in their core but nothing happens, making the situation weirder. König doesn’t say anything and instead sighed and let your foot go, even tugging it back down into its original spot. König was a little timid in some areas but his confidence overshadowed it majority of the time. Don’t get him mistaken for some punk with anxiety because he’d only do the exact things everyone would tell him that he couldn’t.

You admired that about him.

A smile peaks at the edge of your lips whilst you settled your wet hands onto your knees. “Theres other ways to show off your strength. No need to get aggressive.”

He shakes his head and bent his neck back, seemingly forcing himself to relax a bit more as a heavy sigh escapes his lips. Admittedly, Lieutenant L/N was awfully stressful today. “I’m off to Mexico today. Would love for you to be there, König.”

Slowly, his head rises to fully look at you, eyes discreetly looking over your form in one quick motion.

“Are you sure you want me out there?”

“Positive. You’re quick on your feet… and I also just like you.”

The ice around you sloshes a little bit as König bristled and scoffed. “Yea right.”

“Sehe ich aus wie ein Lügner?” you dare, sitting up and placing your calloused hands onto his hairy shins, startling him into gripping the silver frame of the tub surrounding the two of you. Your chin comes down in a daring glare as he can only stare back, eyebrows pinched in a false angry expression.

trans: do I look like a liar?

“Setz dich.”

You shake your head, trying him further whilst climbing further. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“It’s best you get away from me,” König hesitates, fixing his posture in hopes of inching away from your bearing form. “If anyone walks in-”

“Oh shush,” you sit on the hardness of his shaped thighs. The air surrounding you swirled with tension and chill. A quiet buzz comes from the ice machine as König watched your palm come to cup his clothed cheek.

He can only stare in awe as a much more gentle look plagued your face. “I just wanted to show you, what I got.”

A jingle sounds off next to his ear as you pull your hand away. He comically tilts his head at the sight of a pendant dangling in front of his hidden face. It was in the shape of a heart and had an overall color of 3 red and white horizontal stripes on the front of it, the flag of austria. A childish grin splits your features as you twist your hand to display the carvings on the back of it.

"Your initials?" He reaches for it, slowly taking it out of your hand. "And yours," you slither back into your original seating, chin daring to dip under the icy water. Your movement cause some of the water to slosh out of the tub but still, König only stares at the gift in awe.

"Why?"

"I did say I like you, right?"

The pair share a look. Y/N was a little confusing sometimes but as in right now, König had no idea what they were thinking. Perhaps you had a change of heart and decided to get sentimental rather than teasing him as you were just mere seconds ago. Or maybe, you were afraid you'd die on this next mission. In his jittering heart, König hopes its not the latter.

"So keep it. Hook it next to your tags."

He watches you with a calculated look before clenching the small silver heart in his calloused palm. Your eyes fail to meet his, the shapes of the melting cubes now too interesting to take you away for a second.

"... So, what do I give you?"

In a snail like fashion, your cheeks round and tighten as a blush burns behind your skin. The feeling reminds you of one of the first memories you had as a child. König gave you that itchy feeling you'd get while laying in the grass and watching the sun disappear behind the horizon. The feeling is vivid enough to make you feel the spikey grass poking into your back as your head turns to watch the black and yellow little bees dance around a dandelion. Bliss was inevitable when it felt like home.

It'd been so many years since you've been back in your country but no matter what-- König made home follow you no matter the trip and no matter the gore you'd face in a mission. You've always face it together.

Behind your cold and wet chest, a heart sighs and smiles. If you had a pen and paper, you'd be able to write a thousand things you like and love about the man that was currently avoiding your gaze. His avoidant behavior was listed at #30, right next to 'The cute way he squints when he sneezes'... #31.

"You could give me a kiss."

"Actual."

"I'm serious, what makes you think I'd joke about that, huh?" You crawl back up his legs and comfortably settle onto his thighs. König lets out a sigh as he brought his hands into the water. They seem to levitate around your waist for a moment until your hands come to settle them right in the comfortable fold of your thigh and hip.

You're close enough to see the dramtic flicker of his eyelids. If he was to have a heartattack, you'd be discharged and investigated immediately. Probably even blamed for murder once they found that white notebook under your pillow. They'd find lines and lines of silly little notes that you did your best to turn into poetry, all in hopes that maybe someday when you and König weren't working-- that you'd read them to him and laugh about how dumb you sounded.

"You... want to kiss...?"

"Just one," you boop his nose through his mask, knowing how much he hates when you do that. He fails to start his usual thrashing though, probably too rattled to even remember what makes him angry and what didn't.

He shook his head and once it again let it fall back. "... My head hurts."

Ice bangs against the metal bin while you tug the wer veil, slowly bringing it up inch my inch until König's gentle face is on full display. The corner of your lip raised once you noticed the small pinch in his eyebrows. Around his small frown, he had brown stubble over his lip and down his jaw. Surely, you'd get the chance to see his full grown beard and maybe even complain about it-- like every couple experiences.

"It's been awhile."

"You saw my face yesterday."

"... It's been awhile," you tease.

Your thumb rubs the small hairs above his lip before dragging down to feel the length of his soft jaw. #14, the way he leans into my hands. A beat of silence passes whilst he watched the way your eyes softened with every second. A gentle look on a face that's so stoneish in the battle field... he thought you were the prettiest thing ever.

"I'm trying to figure out where I wanna kiss you," your brows jump, watching the way he subtly gulps at the sensation of your cold palm reaching up to the short brunete mess of his hair. "If I can only do it once... better choose wisely, huh?"

König raised his chin and looked you over with a small pinch still prominent in his shaggy brows. The look made goosebumps erupt up your spine.

"...Why once?"

You pause, now metting his eyes with an enlightened squint in your eyes. "What was that?"

The attempt to pick on him is once again an exhaust. He locks his jaw and looked down into the water, tapping his fingers against your thighs. It calms him down only the slightest. "König."

Your hand cups his jaw, raising it so that his brown eyes can meet yours. Even on the edge of his jaw, you can feel the heat the bursens his attempt with stoicism. Though his blush was the most prominent evidence of his fluster, there was also the fact that he'd been chewing the inside if his cheek for the entirety of your exchange.

"Can I kiss you?"

He nods with calculation and something tells you that the only reason he had that hard look in his eyes was because of your constant pranking and teasing. The idea was nearly laughable but you fight it and only settle it into a smile. #67, the way he suspects me... even though it's untrusty.

Almost too fast, you dip your head closer before slotting your lips against his. König almost startled but almost like an electric shock, he snaps out of it and kissed you back. He squeezes the softness of your thighs but he quickly corrected himself to move his hands to the end of your thighs, wanting to do all but make you uncomfortable in the slightest.

The moment you catch on, your heart blooms again, butterflies flood your stomach and head straight the the red hive in your chest. Even when you allow more, König could still be a gentleman.

You squeeze your eyes shut even tighter, not watching to kill the mood with your stupid emotions. The kiss is sauve and passionate, slow and intimate. His lips swallow yours with every tilt of your head and every pause of your movement. The two of you press against each other impossibly closer once his arms locked themselves behind your back and pushed your half nude form into his.

A gasp nearly escapes but not a single breathe evades him. Your lips lock and your tongue comes to tangle in the swim of your motion. To say that you were impressed by his skill, would be keeping it generous. Perhaps that thing Ghost said about the quiet ones was true.

The kiss lasts for a minute before König had to physically swivel his head to tear away from your lips. Suddenly self aware, you closely watch the way he has to compose himself. "Was that... okay?"

"More than," he instantly answered.

Still shy, you nod and lick your lips before scooting back into that familiar position from the start.

"... You're a pretty good kisser... by the way." The ice hit the metal bin as you shrug, feinging coolness while König did the same. His hands remained hidden beneath the water whilst you fidgeted with your head instead of facing the music of what you'd actually just done. Now what comes next was the discussion of what you two would be after this along with the long talk of how the relationship would work while on active duty. The possibility of König not wanting to take things that far does indeed create a dropping hill within your gut but still, you look forward to the goodness that could happen anyway.

"Thanks."

A soft smile spreads across your heated face before you're pointing to the veil hanging on the edge of the tub. "You may wanna... put that on. Bunch of rookies comin' in soon."

Owlishly, he blinked before a small 'oh' escaped his lips. He instantly reached for the fabric and did as suggested, feeling a sense of relief as he now had the chance to hide the emotions that were easiest to see.

Reason #678, the fact that he can't hide from me, no matter the cloth.