#M.M STORE

[ladythylia]

1560 Kinky hour : a drink and a movie…Gulp Fiction.

Outfit-Havoc. St.Claire Set . Rust Havoc . St.Claire Sweater . Rust Hair-RAMA.SALON – Kylee Hair ‘Naturals Pack’ Eyes- S H I M M  /  Lelutka Eyes Applier ~ Bom / CCVII SET I D69 Lashes- :Mai Bilavio:. Zita collection 1000 MakeUp- #Loveholic – Lux Eyeliner Fatpack MakeUp- ! #saint. x evox – josie lip elixir (set 4) Glasses-HOLLYHOOD- MESH BAMBOO SUNGLASSES Tattoo- KAOS TATTOOS- Torch…

[whitehotwild]

took a peek at amazon music’s The Boys character playlists (really just Butcher’s and Hughie’s… womp womp)… ohhhh old man Butcher my beloved.

all i can imagine is being at Butcher’s apartment for one reason or another.

☆ maybe the team went out to a bar together, and as everyone turned in for the night, saying their goodbyes, you and butcher were the last ones there. For whatever reason, he refuses to send you off by yourself to your own apartment this late at night and tells you to just come over and spend the night at his, that it’s closer anyway.

you try to ignore the zip up your spine when he leads you into his apartment with a hand on the small of your back. you try to ignore the soft flush of your cheeks when he teases you about snooping while you look through his one (barely filled) bookcase.

“what? you scared I’m gonna find your fuzzy pink handcuffs?” you tease right back, squatting down to flip through the vinyl records he has sitting in a milk crate next to the bookcase.

butcher rolls his eyes with a smirk, “mine ain’t fuzzy… d’you even know what those things are?”

you don’t react, but you do store that in the folder labeled ‘Useful Butcher Information’ that lives in your brain. ignoring his teasing, you let out a soft huff of laughter when you see a record you’ve only seen at your grandparent's house and in the back of a shitty thrift shop uptown.

“exactly how old are you?” you ask, pulling it out and showing him the record in question: Roy Orbison Sings Lonely and Blue (1961).

butcher walks over and takes the record from your hand, switching it for his beer. he had asked you if you wanted one when you two walked through his door, you had declined before, but have taken to stealing sips of his. it’s probably the closest you’ll get to kissing him tonight.

“old enough to know this is real music… not that Taylor Swift shite you force me to listen to in the car.” he snarks, slipping the record out of the sleeve, setting it on his cheap turntable.

you stand back up straight with a scoff, “you can make fun of my ‘brat summer’, but Miss Swift is where I draw the line.” the beginning of the record starts to ring softly through the room…

‘Only the lonely… (dum-dum-dum-dumby-doo-wah)’

“oh… you can’t be serious,” you smile softly and he holds a hand up as if telling you to ‘wait for it’. “…so corny,” you mutter shaking your head, still with that same smile.

butcher takes the beer bottle out of your hand, taking a sip before setting it on one of the shelves, “nope… classic.”

he lets himself be a bit softer around you, even if only for a moment. it’s only when you two are alone, usually late at night, usually after a few drinks that he lets the walls drop… only just a bit.

like now, when he pulls you into the empty space of his living room, placing your hand, the one that isn’t wrapped in his, on his shoulder, his free hand goes to the small of your back.

“so now you wanna dance?” you ask with a bit of snark.

butcher lets out a soft huff of amusement as you two start swaying, “what you lot was doin’ at the bar wasn’t dancin’… you was flailing about.”

“hm… whatever. least we were having fun, i mean… even M.M. got up!”

“‘cause he’s a sucker for ‘Earth, Wind & Fire’.”

“well yeah… who isn’t?”

“me.”

you roll your eyes with a soft sigh, “suuure… stick in the mud.”

you’re both quiet after that, only the sound of old music coming through shitty speakers and gentle steps against his floor fill the room. he dances you through the whole a-side of the album, the hand on your back has snaked around your waist, your head rests against his shoulder, and he holds your intertwined hands closer to his chest.

you take as much of this as you can get from him, knowing these moments are fleeting. there are so many unspoken words between the two of you, you’re too stubborn to make a move, and well… butcher’s too… butcher. he thinks he’s much too undeserving of something as precious as you.

and maybe he’s right. maybe he doesn’t deserve you, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting you, it doesn’t stop you wanting him. so for now… the soft, fleeting, moments are enough.

it’s always strange when those moments end, though. the way you can see his demeanor shift in an instant.

like now, the music stops and he looks away from you when you look up at him. you can see the way his face changes, like he’s snapping out of a trance or he’s caught himself doing something he knows shouldn’t.

butcher pulls away from you, wiping his hands on his pants as if the feeling of you lingering on his skin has to go. he turns to put the record away and turn off the turntable.

the silence lingers for a minute before he speaks up, “think we should turn in. you take my bed.”

you try to protest, “the couch-“

“don’t fight me on it.” the command isn’t harsh, it’s not mean, it’s only a bit stern, but he just wants you to listen to him.

he just wants to do something nice for you.

you nod with a quiet sigh and thank him with a soft smile. you both retire for the night and you both know you’ll be gone in the morning before he wakes up. you both know you won’t make any mention of it when you're both in the office tomorrow.

but you both know that for now, the fact that it happened at all is enough.

(divider by @/plutism)

[stinkysam]

Serge “Frenchie” - Bad movies.

Warning : nsfw, long ass intro, semi public sex (can we still call it that when there's just another person in the room ?), spit for lube, no protection, blowjob (giving), edging, breath restriction (?), humping, slight degradation/praise

Genre : smut

Synopsis : You're in hiding with the boys in a basement in the back of some random store, and private moments are most definitely not private but it doesn't seem to be a problem for you and Frenchie. Aka Hughie hears more than he'd like to. During season 2. Idea by @jadenisdead

Reader : male (you/yours)

While Butcher, M.M and Annie were at their respective places, you, Hughie, Kimiko and Frenchie stayed hidden at the back of some store watching movies for movie night. But everything that was playing turned out to be bad.

You sighed, bored. By your feet, sitting on the floor was Hughie, fighting hard to not fall asleep, his head resting on your knees. Leaning on your shoulder was your boyfriend Frenchie with Kimiko's head on his lap, eyes closed. Clearly, the movie was not entertaining at all and soon Hughie had enough.

“Well, I uh, I'm going to bed.” He said, clearing his voice before yawning while stretching as he got up. “Not that it's boring or anything, but uh…”

“It's boring.” You replied frankly with a nod. Frenchie humming in agreement absentmindedly, probably more lost in his thoughts than whatever was going on on the screen.

“Yeah… It's a disaster.” Hughie slid his hands in his pockets, giving the TV one last glance, a last chance to give him something not boring, but alas his wish wasn't granted, so he left.

You thought for a second and decided to go as well. You kissed Frenchie’s cheek and told him you were going too. He smiled and nodded.

You reached your bed, it was small but at least you didn't sleep on the couch or on a mattress on the floor. Though most of the time Frenchie was sleeping glued to you rather than in his makeshift bed.

You could still see the TV from where you were and after a few minutes, you saw Frenchie get up, put what seemed like a blanket over Kimiko and joined you, leaving the TV on in fear the lack of background noise would wake her up.

As usual, you moved closer to the wall to give him some space and opened your arms, letting him crawl into them, laying on top of you instead of by your side, his head resting next to yours.

“Well, that was uh… how to say… ennuyant.” Frenchie said with a grimace, quietly. He looked at your face when you turned your head toward him, nose to nose.

“Wanna do something better ?” You wiggled your eyebrows in a joking manner, though it was barely seen in the darkness of the basement. Even during the day and with every light on, it was still rather dark.

Frenchie squirmed a bit, trying to find a comfortable spot before answering, curious.

“And what do you have in mind, huh ?”

“In my mind ?” You kissed his forehead sweetly. “Ton cul.” You smiled, your hands suddenly grabbing his ass, earning a chuckle, quickly his hands went under your shirt, exploring.

“But, il y a Kimiko et petit Hughie. Doesn't it bother you ?” He whispered, though he already knew your answer.

“Et toi, ça te dérange ?” Your smile could be heard in your voice. “Kimiko dort depuis un bail, et Hughie… je suis sûr qu'il est déjà out.” You kissed his forehead once more while your hands wandered under his clothes, caressing his hot skin, feeling the scars on his back. “Plus it never stopped us before.” You pointed out, now kissing the top of his nose.

“C'est vrai. But not around the boys.” He argued, his hands grabbing your face to pull you into a proper kiss.

“But is it really around the boys if it's just two of them ? Asleep ?” You said, still smiling as Frenchie pulled away from you to remove his shirt, you quickly did the same, throwing them on the floor.

“Mais je suis pas contre.” He closed the distance, regaining his spot against you. “I just don't want them to…” He shook his head. “Hear.”

“Then be silent.” There was a hint of laughter in your voice, as you kissed his cheek, mocking him a bit. “Ou petit Hughie ne sera pas capable de te regarder dans les yeux.” You pouted and nudged him, faking a saddened voice, and though he couldn't see it, he knew you were still smiling cheekily but before he could say anything, you bit his cheek, making him yelp loudly.

“Aie ! Shhhh !”

“Don't shush me, you're the one making noise.” You laughed quietly before yelping as well. He had pinched your left side.

“Now who's the one making noises, huh ?” He asked, proudly, as he backed away from you, resting on his elbows, still on top of you.

“Oh, je te promet, that will be you.” You giggled before kissing his lips, your hands roaming once more over his body.

“...Mmmh, peut-être.” He admitted, chuckling, making you laugh as well before pushing him off of you, Frenchie now laying under you, close to the edge of the bed.

You crawled backward toward his legs, pulling his pants down, kissing your way to his pelvis, taking your time, his eyes never leaving you, one of his hands landed on the top of your head.

You gently grabbed his dick, jerking him at a steady pace. He sighed, closing his eyes, head resting against your only pillow.

“Remember, no noises. Like in ‘A quiet place’.”

Frenchie snorted.

“You didn't even watch the movies.” He laughed, looking back at you. You flicked his balls with your middle finger and he hissed loudly, grimacing, looking at you with a frown. “Hey !” He whispers-yelled.

“I still know what it's about.” You retorted.

“Okay, okay… Désolé.” He sighed, more turned on than upset over the flicking.

You kissed his tip, making a trail down and up his length before wrapping your lips around it. It didn't take long for him to be fully hard, one hand massaging his thighs slowly while you started to bob your head up and down, your other hand taking care of his balls. You could hear Frenchie squirming and letting out small gasps and hisses occasionally.

The hand on your head guiding you to go faster, fucking your mouth, your teeth threatening to scrape against his dick, which you did from time to time, just for fun, just to hear his voice get louder for a second.

Then you decided to slow things down, wanting to annoy him so he wouldn't get what he wanted so easily and quickly.

“No, don't stop.” He complained, but you didn't listen.

You pulled away, going back to kissing his wet cock and his thighs, even nipping and sucking at the soft skin, leaving small red marks while your hand jerked him slowly then quickly, then slowly again. Each time he was about to come you pulled away, not touching him until he had calmed down and was ready for more.

Of course more pre would appear, coating your hand and his own dick, making a bit of a mess.

After a while, Frenchie seemed to have enough of this chasing game.

“Please- please, please, please, let me come, mon cœur…” He begged, trying his best to stay quiet but each time you denied him made him louder. You didn't know if he was aware of that and if he still cared about it, but you sure weren't going to tell him to quiet down.

“What a pretty boy.” You cooed, enjoying the view, kissing his inner thigh.

His dick kept twitching and throbbing at your touch, wanting more, wanting to feel the sweet release. But you didn't want him to reach it yet. You gave him your index and middle finger to suck instead, his open mouth letting more moans come out freely. Then you pulled them out, slowly dragging them down to his ass, pushing them in. He groaned at the sensation before starting to adjust to it.

You fingered and jerked him at different paces, watching as Frenchie struggled to move his hips accordingly, chasing both sensations. You continued to tease his tip with your tongue, trying to draw shapes or words on his shaft, drooling a bit on your chin and on him. You kept stopping every now and then, not wanting him to cum just yet, his angry red cock leaking with beads of pre-come looking absolutely delicious.

Then you stopped everything. Frenchie's head snapped up to look at you, confused with a fucked out expression, before seeing you remove your pants.

“Tourne-toi.” You simply said and he did as asked. “Good boy.”

You exhaled when you wrapped a hand around your own dick, not caring if Hughie could hear you as you jerked yourself, Frenchie's eyes were on you, watching your every move. Then you stopped, you spat on your hand and smeared it on your cock before spreading his asscheeks open and slowly pushing yourself inside him. You sighed, loving how snug he felt around you, he hummed loudly, trying to ignore the stinging feeling, closing his eyes.

You caressed his ass, before leaning closer, leisurely bucking your hips into him. With each thrust you were rewarded with quiet grunts and gasps, sounding so pretty.

Your hand went around his throat, holding him up against you, not enough to choke him, but enough to disturb his breathing, making him breathe and pant loudly.

He accidentally let out a loud strangled moan as your tip tickled his prostate, and you angled yourself so it happened again and again. His dick was rubbing against the mattress, smearing pre-come onto the sheets and himself.

More moans and gasps escaped his lips, grunting as he struggled to breathe comfortably, and if you listened closely, you could hear him babbling. A mixture of whispered “Please, please, please.” and “Need to cum.” mingled together.

He came like this, shooting ropes of cum under himself, unable to warn you beforehand, and claiming it happened too quickly.

But instead of stopping you continued moving.

“T'es vraiment une pute, hein ?” You hissed. “Pas capable de prévenir.”

“Désolé, je suis désolé.” He whispered, voice raspy.

You squeezed his throat a bit more so it would be more difficult for him to breathe, releasing him every now and then and soon enough he was hard again, from your dick continuously fucking him and his rubbing the sheets.

“Be a dear and warn me next time.”

Frenchie nodded quickly.

He could feel the wet stain of his cum on the sheets under him, his cock rubbing against it, smearing it even more as more pre came out.

You continued touching his prostate with the tip of your dick, ripping moans after moans out of him.

“Shhhh, what if Hughie hears you ? Or if you wake up Kimiko ?” You whispered in his ear. “Mh ?”

“Please.” Is all Frenchie could say, eyes closed and grimacing. He felt so close from cumming, again. He needed it.

“You want them to hear how much of a whore you are ?”

“S'il te plait, mon cœur. I can’t do this anymore.” He urged, voice straining and a bit louder than he had intended to.

“Je t'ai posé une question.” You stopped every movement, wanting to make your point across.

“Don’t stop, please.” He groaned, annoyed, trying to move his hips against you to get something.

“Frenchie.” You said sternly but he didn't answer. So you pulled him closer against you by his throat, completely stopping him from breathing. “Do I need to repeat myself ?”

Came out of his lips a little and weak “No.”

“Then answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, quoi ?”

“Oui, je veux qu'ils entendent à quel point je suis ta pute.” His voice was still straining. Frenchie coughed and breathed loudly once you let him go, though not completely as your hand was still holding him close to you.

“You see ? Was that so hard, my love ?” You said, caressing his side, rolling your hips against him as he shook his head “no”.

Knowing he was being loud, he quickly put a hand on his mouth to muffle any sounds that could come out of him.

“Put that hand away, love.”

Even if it took a few seconds, Frenchie still obeyed and took his hand away from his mouth. Letting his trying-to-be-quiet moans fill the room slowly. And soon, your own moans could be heard as well, a sign you were close to cumming.

“God, you feel so good.” You whispered quickly, feeling him clench around you as if he was trying to suck you in.

“I'm gonna cum.” Frenchie said, voice trembling, eyes closed as he was lost in the pleasure, trying to move under you, chasing his high.

“Go ahead, pretty boy.” You replied, kissing his ear as you tried to reach deeper into him, fucking him thoroughly. “I'm close too.”

Moans fell freely out of his lips as he came, more cum pooling under him as you shot yours into his ass.

Gasping for air and sighing loudly, you both slowly regained your composure, you pulled out and fell to the side, on your back, Frenchie still on his stomach.

“You think they heard us ?” He whispered, nudging you with his elbow, turning his head to look at you.

“Last time I checked, Hughie wasn't deaf.” You whispered back. “Right Hughie !?”

“Shut up, leave me alone.” Hughie replied, clearly upset.

You couldn't help but laugh, and quickly, Frenchie followed.

“I'm sorry, mon ami.” He said, in between laughter. “I simply thought that you were asleep.” He added, defending himself.

Hughie ignored him, too pissed to think properly of a comeback.

“Why are you not asleep ? At this hour ? Mh ?” Frenchie asked, moving his head in his direction.

“Maybe because you two are being obnoxiously loud, and fucking in my presence ?!”

You couldn't help but laugh again, your hand resting on Frenchie’s back. But Hughie continued.

“I'm sorry if sounds of fucking is not what I fall asleep to.”

“I do, sometimes.” Frenchie admitted, chuckling happily.

“It's because you're deranged, my love.” You said, kissing his head.

“It's like your huh… ASMR videos.” He argued, now turning toward you. “Think about it.”

“No. No it's not. No it's not. The context is different.”

“Why are there videos of people moaning quietly or kissing the mic, huh ? Or not safe for work ASMR, mh ?”

You looked at him, dumbfounded.

“You know an awful lot for someone who doesn't like it.” You finally said.

“You're just in le dénis.” You could tell Frenchie was smiling, confident in his statement.

“Can you just shut up ?!” Hughie said loudly, too tired to condone more of this, his pillow folded to cover both his ears. “Or go debate somewhere else about… About porn ASMR or whatever !”

He was no longer grimacing in horror, now staring at the table in front of him with an empty look and a hint of hatred. He had troubles sleeping since Robin's death and joining the boys, he's had enough trauma with how many guts he got on himself on a daily, he estimated it simple enough to not ever think he'd find himself in the situation where he'd hear two of his friends fucking while he's trying to sleep, a dozen of feet away from them.

Frenchie looked at you and shrugged.

“Bonne nuit, then ?”

“Met d'abord la couverture pleine de jus par terre.” You said with a laugh, pushing it off from under you. Instead you heard him get up, walk naked in the room as Hughie groaned in annoyance, probably closing his eyes to not accidentally see Frenchie naked even though it was too dark to see anything, before coming back and putting the cum stained sheet on the floor.

“I got us another one.”

Traduction - Translation :

Ennuyant. - Boring.

Ton cul. - Your ass.

Il y a Kimiko et petit Hughie. - There's Kimiko and petit Hughie.

Et toi, ça te dérange ? - And you, it bothers you ?

Kimiko dort depuis un bail, et Hughie… je suis sûr qu'il est déjà out. - Kimiko's asleep since a long time, and Hughie… I'm sure he's already out.

C'est vrai. - It's true.

Mais je suis pas contre. - But I'm not against it.

Ou petit Hughie ne sera pas capable de te regarder dans les yeux. - Or petit Hughie won't be able to look you in the eyes.

Oh, je te promet. - Oh, I promise you.

Peut-être. - Maybe.

Désolé. - Sorry.

Tourne-toi. - Turn around.

T'es vraiment une pute, hein ? - You really are a slut, huh ?

Pas capable de prévenir. - Unable to warn.

Désolé, je suis désolé. - Sorry, I am sorry

S'il te plait. - Please.

Je t'ai posé une question. - I asked you a question.

Quoi ? - What ?

Oui, je veux qu'ils entendent à quel point je suis ta pute. - Yes, I want them to hear how much of your whore I am.

Le dénis. - The denial.

Bonne nuit. - Good night.

Met d'abord la couverture pleine de jus par terre. - First, put the sheet full of juice on the floor.

[jnkgrnde]

☆ my kind of woman, m.m

pairings: e!1610 miles morales x black!reader

summary: dating hcs w miles !

warnings: none

☆ you def come after rio (ofc) as miles’ fav woman

☆ miles is still a lil nervous even a while into your relationship ab what to do etc.

☆ him and pavitr practice their fake voices with eachother esp when they have to save you and gayatri lmao

☆ he LOVESSSS to help you and rio cook btw like he’ll invite you over for dinner and you offer to help rio cook and he’ll immediately be right there offering too just to be near you

☆ he’s bad at uno don’t ask me how i know.

☆ you’re one of the only if not the only person who he lets see inside his sketchbook

☆ you smiled a bit when he skipped the pages of his drawings of you because you saw little flashes of them

☆ you’re one of the people he worries about protecting the most once he becomes spiderman

☆ like it’s a whole lotta swinging in when you least expect it

☆ benny’s convenience store is the go to for when you two are hanging out at each others houses or when you hang out somewhere else etc.

☆ miles kisses you on the cheek when y’all are switching between classes btw

☆ you eventually find out he’s spiderman

☆ following up to this, he’s a bad liar when it comes to you

☆ the way you find out is he slips up some info only he knows ab you and blows his cover

☆ you two do the spiderman kiss sometimes and he gets giddy after like hes cheesing under the mask and everything

☆ you always take care of him when he comes to you with injuries (and scold him for not being more careful)

☆ he also likes swinging you around the city and showing you places you can’t normally see

[brynnterpretations]

Hi! Could I please request Frenchie x Reader HCs?

Frenchie x Reader Headcanons ☻

GIF Source: @amazingmaeve ★ (link)

Frenchie isn't someone who immediately feels romantic attraction towards someone, so it would happen pretty casually and slowly —  AKA no "love at first sight" for the guy, who believes love is a very purposeful thing (and action). Sexual attraction is another case, though, so if Reader experiences it and/or is comfortable starting out that way, I'd say it would start out with hookups. If that's not in-line with Reader, it would start as a friendship or a close working relationship.

What would transform this relationship to romantic would likely be a shared sense of hope, strength, and willingness to overcome all the shit that plagues the universe of "The Boys". We all know that Frenchie has been through a lot, and he forms very strong bonds with people who have been through shit, too, but are still trying their best every day to be and do better, even if just for their close social circle.

He wouldn't be opposed to you working with The Boys — in fact, he'd prefer it, since the coup is an extremely important facet in his life. He would appreciate not feeling like he had to hide anything from you.

Frenchie is very publicly affectionate with his friends, and that would be the same for a significant other. No matter where you are, he'll always have a hand on your back, plant a kiss on your cheek, rest his head on yours, etc.

Cooking drugs also gave him a lot of talents in the kitchen with normal food, so the guy's a serious foodie and would love cooking with you. He's someone who sees food itself as something very romantic, so he would really love the intimacy of cooking with you. He has a fondness for baking (particularly because he'd enjoy throwing powder at you).

Frenchie would dance around the topic of his past for the first few months of the relationship, but would start telling you about through bits and pieces before eventually opening up to you about it. If you respond with non-judgment yet an empathy that shows you know how much what he did hurt both him and others (because Frenchie knows what he did was wrong, and he doesn't want to be absolved and excused), he's yours. Forever. Enjoy your puppy.

He's a very spontaneous guy, and would love taking you to dives around the city, whether they're bars, hole-in-the-wall diners, or dinky antique stores (that you two may or may not get kicked out of at least once for knocking something over).

You learning French would be huge for him, and it would endear you to him forevermore. It doesn't matter if you butcher the words — if you speak and/or learn French for him, he will fall head over heels for you. Communication is extremely important to him.

Whether you know English (which he's mostly fluent in, but does struggle with a bit) or any other languages... he would immediately start trying to learn it. M.M. would be driven crazy by those Duolingo pings you get from completing a level.

Expect tons of cuddling. Frenchie would love being the big spoon, but on difficult nights, him being able to be the little spoon would be very comforting and dear to him. Frenchie often has night terrors due to his past, but they reduce significantly when he sleeps with you and when you hold him.

[vampirebloodie]

Midnight Date | Billy Butcher x Reader

Summary: Billy just wanted to threaten you, but a fight leads to the two of you having a hot date at midnight.

Warnings: Smut 18+, creampie, unprotected sex, hair pulling, fight before sex.

"It's her."

Billy said throwing a picture on the table where the other boys were standing around watching everything attentively. The photo showed you distracted inside a store in ordinary clothes, without your superhero uniform.

"And who is this?"

Hughie asked confused, he knew all The Seven but not you.

"She was invited to join the seven but refused, Starlight took her place as a second option. She is more powerful than Homelander."

M.M explained.

"What? More powerful than Homelander?"

Hughie asked in surprise and Billy rolled his eyes.

"That's right, kid. She doesn't like the spotlight so she lives an ordinary life during the day and becomes a superhero at night."

M.M patted him on the shoulder.

"I'm going to have a little chat with her, i'm sure she'll join us."

Billy said and Kimiko started gesturing to Frenchie.

“This will be before or after he threatened to kill her?”

----------

You heard the sound of the bell ringing, indicating that someone had opened the door to the bar where you worked, you were cleaning the tables, ready to close.

"We're almost closing."

You warned without looking at whoever was entering, you didn't worry, after all, you had superpowers and knew very well how and when to use them.

"I just want a shot of whiskey, i've had a rough night."

You looked at the man, he had a big beard and a closed expression. So you just walked to the back of the counter, taking a bottle of whiskey, he leaned on the wood and took the glass watching you fill it with the liquid.

"We all have a rough night sometimes."

You just said, sighing.

"A supe's night really must be difficult, right?"

He asked, downing the drink, you looked at him, trying to hide your surprised expression.

"What?"

"You heard me very well, doll."

He smirks.

"I..."

You remained silent thinking, then you pushed him, your strength making him fly against the other side of the restaurant and fall on the tables and chairs, knocking over everything, you ran towards the emergency exit going into an alley, until your body was pushed against the floor and a hand grabbed your hair making you groan in pain, you recognized the pair of shoes in front of you and it was the same man. Then you saw him take a gun out of his pocket and put the cold barrel of it against your chin.

"Try something funny and i ll blow your brains out, even if i have to shoot 300 times to kill you."

He threatened and you swallowed, scared.

"What do you want with me?"

"Talk. First, why didn't you accept the invitation to be part of the seven?"

He asked and you laughed.

"I don't join with corrupt people."

He was a little surprised by your answer.

"So you know very well about the corruption cases involving Vought. What is your relationship with Homelander?"

"What? What relationship? Homelander hates me me since i was a child and he was a teenager, he always hated the fact that there was someone more powerful than him and who could one day join the seven. They wanted me to take his place as leader. "

You explained part of your story with the superhero, but there were many other things to be told about you and him, nothing romantic of course, you hated each other and almost killed each other every time you met. in the tower or elsewhere.

"What about Vought?"

"Why don't you ask them, do i look like i work at Vought?"

You responded roughly and the grip on your hair tightened, you moaned again.

"Doll, doll...Cooperate with me."

He said in the form of a warning and you reluctantly decided to start talking.

"Vought has been watching me for a long time, i think it's a miracle that they haven't kidnapped me yet to keep me in a maximum security prison."

"And they're watching us now?"

He asked.

"Why don't you ask yourself that, William Butcher? Vought has been chasing you longer than I have."

You suggested and he smirks.

"So you know me? That's great! Now tell me how."

He pulled you by your arms, lifting you up and pushing you against the wall, making your back hit the cold bricks. Your faces were almost glued to each other.

"It would be weird if i didn't know you. The supe killer and Homelander's biggest hater, tsk tsk."

"You know i kill supes... And you're a sup..."

He said in a hinting tone and you smirks.

"You will not kill me."

"How are you so sure?"

"Vought would know and intensify their pursuit of you. And when they caught you, you would beg them to kill you as quickly as possible instead of torturing."

You said smiling, his strong hands grabbed your neck, squeezing it. You felt the lack of air becoming more and more present there, your face starting to take on a reddish color, in an act of defense you kicked him in the middle of his legs, making Billy howl in pain and let go of you. The two of you got into a physical fight, without using your powers to kill him knowing that he was still needed by Vought, you found yourself defenseless fighting a man who was much bigger and stronger than you. Before you could give up the fight and run away once again he grabbed your wrists, cornering you against the wall again, his free hand grabbed your chin making you look straight into his eyes, his eyes contained pure anger, while yours contained fear and despair.

"I'd love to destroy that pretty face of yours, but you're too pretty to be hurt."

He said and smirked, you blinked a few times trying not to believe that he was actually flirting with you at a time like that.

"Are you..... flirting with me?"

The moment you say those words a surge of joy floods through your body. Your words are like a call for him to give in to his urges. Without another moment of hesitation he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you close to him. He kisses you passionately, his grip around your neck only becoming stronger.

Butcher''s grip tightens even further as he kisses you back, his tongue forcing itself into your mouth. He pulls you on top of him, the strength in his grip showing just how firmly he has you held. As he kisses you he moves his hands down to your hips, squeezing them firmly.

"We keep just.... kissing?"

You asked a little shy and he laughs.

"Oh doll, if you want more, you just need to say."

He caressed your cheek, you bit your lip and your hand went to his jacket, opening it, revealing a hawaiian-style flowered shirt, which made you hold back your laughter a little and he raised his eyebrow.

"That's style love. Something you don't have in that uniform"

He said referring to his uniform which was showing a little due to his coat being a little open.

"Fuck it"

In one movement, you took off your coat and tore your uniform, leaving your breasts exposed to Butcher. Butcher groans at the sudden motion and leans forward again, this time placing his hands around your body. He stares into your eyes again, this time much more intensely. His voice becomes almost like a grunt as he begins to speak again.

"This is going to get so much more intense..."

He continues to hold you tightly, his breathing becoming more rapid and the tone of his voice slowly changing to a more husky tone.

"I'm going to make it so intense that you'll be a drooling mess by the end of it.."

"I would say that i dare you."

"You will desire not to say this."

The way you reply seems to only increase his desire, his grasp on your body tightening. He stares deeply into your eyes before bringing his mouth to your neck, just before he bites down he whispers one word.

"Mine."

You grab his strong arms and his hands go to your chest, squeezing them hard making you moan, he turns you onto your back, your cheek pressed against the wall as his hand grabs your hair.

"No foreplay today, doll, but next time i promise to enjoy it more."

"So there will be a next one?"

You asked anxiously and he smirked, he pulled down your leggings, leaving your panties showing, which were soon torn, you were startled and just saw him putting the fabric inside his pants pocket, a trail of your juice due to excitement staining your thighs. inside leaving them sticky and sticky. He opened his pants and your eyes widened seeing the size of his member, it was bigger and much thicker than any you had ever seen in your life, he seemed to have enjoyed your surprised reaction, you bit your lip feeling the head of his cock caressing your wet folds before pushing himself completely inside you, you held back a scream.

Billy grabbed your waist as he hit you hard and brutally and you only knew how to moan, he grabbed one of your legs and lifted it, thrusting himself deeper inside you, his balls hitting you hard and his grunts were the most exciting melody you've heard in a while. You never imagined being in a position like that, having sex with a probable enemy in a dark alley right after he had threatened to kill you. His hands grabbed your hair, pulling your head back, your bodies glued together.

“O-oh god! Please please!”

You screamed clenching your inner walls around him, Butcher groaned feeling you squeezing his cock with your pussy. The two of you were already close to full climax.

"Do you want to cum, doll? Hm?"

He asked kissing your neck, you were completely melted by his touches, drunk on his cock, your eyes rolling back and you fighting to keep them open.

"Y-yes!!! Please, Butcher, please...."

You begged, almost crying with pleasure, he smiled and thrust himself into you even harder, if that was possible, his dick hitting your G-spot over and over again without stopping.

"Cum."

He said, his thick and rough fingers starting to massage your clit, your legs starting to shake being held open by his other hand that still pinned your leg open to the wall, you felt that familiar feeling of your stomach tightening and your head spinning. Screaming you melted on top of Butcher and seconds later you felt his hot liquid fill you, your liquid and his liquid mixing into one, running down your thighs. You were a mess, your hair was messy, your makeup was smudged and there were several marks on your body from the grip of his hands. Your legs weakened and you almost fell to the ground, but he caught you beforehand.

"Good girl, i got you."

"What are we gonna do now?"

You asked catching your breath and wiping the sweat from your forehead.

"Now, doll, you gonna help me to kill Homelander."

[billybangbang]

Imagine dressing up for Butcher like this after hearing his rant at the Believe Expo

You confessing your "sins" to Butcher.

Butcher x reader

Not proof read, we die like men

Trigger. SMUT, Religious kink, seriously please do not read it if you are easily offended by blasphemy, nipple clamps, riding crop, and teasing.

You listened to Butcher rant about God being a cunt. His bluntness and casual assurance made you bite your lips and squeeze your thighs together. You loved nothing more than a man who didn't give a shit. When M.M. stepped in and pulled him away. You grabbed Butchers hand. He immediately interlaced his fingers with yours, shooting you a smirk. The next few hours, you walked together through the expo. The more you saw the more you wanted to tell these fundamentalists to shut the fuck up. But it also gave you an idea. You glanced at Butcher, smirking to yourself with what you had planned.

You excused yourself after the plan was set for Hughie to blackmail the strechy man. Making your way to the costume shop, you walked through it slowly, looking at anything that had to do with religious undertones. But nothing really spoke to you. So you settled on a veil and some ugly cross jewlery. Butcher would get the hint, you were sure. The next stop was the lingerie shop. There, you picked out a white two-piece set. White the color of innocents and being pure. You bit your lip, looking in the mirror. You looked hot in it. Your boobs looked amazing, and your ass was on point. You shook your ass watching it bounce in the mirror.

Now, just one more stop. The sex store. Butcher would probably pout that you went to a sex shop without him, but he'll get over it once he saw you.

You walked through aisles after aisle admiring all the different toys. You stopped on some nipple class that connected to each other with a silver chain and had pearls adorned. You picked the package up, looking it over. Damn you would look good in them. Quickly, you added them to your other stuff. Then you went and grabbed some lube, cherry lip gloss, and a riding crop.

For a second, you wondered if you should get Butcher a black dress shirt or something, but then something different came to mind. Quickly, you made your way home to the shared flat with Butcher. You laid out the only black dress pants he had and your favorite black sweater of his plus his black dress shoes. You laid it out on the couch with a note saying "wear me" and a 💋 from your cherry lipgloss.

You took a quick shower and styled your hair a bit before putting on the smallest amount of makeup to look as innocent as possible. You got dressed and took some Polaroids. You were too hot to miss out on the opportunity to hide some sexy Polaroids in Butchers stuff to remind him of you.

Butcher shot you a text that he would be home in five, so you quickly made sure that everything was in order in your bedroom. You had cleaned the countertop that was next to your bed of everything besides the nipple clamps laid out. Then the riding Corp and the lube. You had made the bed up with black sheets. Finally, you heard him open the door and quickly climbed on the bed, kneeling.

You heard Butcher grunting, probably read the note. You could imagine his frown and eye roll, but he did as he was told.

You heard the footsteps getting closer to the bedroom, and you could not help but squirm already anticipating the things he would do to you.

He opened the door, to see you kneeling on the bed. The light was dimmed and candles were everywhere. Fuck, you looked so hot. "Ain't that a nice surprise." He smirked. leaning on the door frame just watching you with his predatory gaze. "Whatever do you mean?" You asked innocently, giving him a slight smile. "I thought we had an appointment." You leaned forward pushing your breasts together. "I have so many things to confess, Father." Never did Billy think the word Father would sound so hot. He felt all his blood rush south. "Ain't that a shame. Ya' been a bad girl." You just nodded with a pout. " I am afraid so, father, but I cannot help it. I have so many impure thoughts." Butcher had to hold back a groan. Instead, he pushed himself off the doorframe and walked closer to you. He stood a foot away just watching you. Your heart was racing anticipating what he would do next. He slowly reached out and you thought he would caress your face like he so often did before kissing you but instead, he swiped his thumb across your lip, taking off some of your lipgloss before putting it between his lips. "Hm," he closed his eyes imagining tasting you all over. You looked at him your lips slightly open. "Confess your sins, tell your father the impure thoughts you got in that pretty little head of yours." He commanded. You took a deep gulp, trying not to squirm. "Father, I confess I have thought about sinful things." Butcher nodded, "go on." You took a deep breath and lowered your eyes as if ashamed. "No, no. Do not take your eyes from me, confess all your sins to me. I need to see the shame in your eyes to know you are repentant." You almost left out a moan. "I sometimes think about ... things, when it is late at night." You broke off. "What things, go on child." "I think about a man, touching me and me touching him," Butcher grunted. "The kind of touch a good girl like me should not think about. I dream about a man coming into my room, and pulling the covers off my body. He starts kissing me. I cannot help these thoughts it is like someone else has taken over my body. Father am I going to hell?" You managed to tear up, one falling down your cheek. Billy wanted to reach out and lick the tear off your cheek. He knew it was fucked up but he liked it when you cried it made him even harder. "No child, not if you confess even the tiniest detail to me." You nodded dutifully and went on. You described how the man would push you into the mattress, rip your shirt and start trailing kisses down your chest until he takes your nipples into his mouth and sucks. Butcher hums in pleasure he loves licking and marking your beautiful tits. Slowly he started to unbutton his trousers which had gotten too tight. His bulge was prominent and you whined at the sight of it. "No, eyes on me." You immediately obeyed looking into his eyes. "Ignore the rest, just look at me." You nodded. "Oh, father but I have not told you the worst of it. Every time I imagine a man walking into my bedroom touching me I touch myself, run my hands over my body. I get so wet and cannot help it. I have to touch myself, rub my clit, and finger my pussy." Butcher groaned as he took his cock out of his boxers stroking himself to your words. You were so tempted to look down and watch his beautiful cock yet even though you were pretending to confess your sins it would truly be a sin for you to obey his command.

"Go on, my good little girl still has things to confess." He continued to stroke his cock so close to your face. It was getting harder for you to concentrate all you wanted to do was reach out and touch him. Finally, you snapped. "I dream about opening my mouth, sticking my tongue out, and tasting a man, in his purest form." You followed suit, looking into his eyes while leaning forward slightly, pushing your tits even more together. Mouth open and willing. You slightly connected with the tip of his cock through your veil his pre cum sticking to your tongue. He slowly pulled back watching a mixture of spit and cum connect your tongue and his cock. "I am afraid your sins are too great. God tells us to punish sinners. I need to punish you." He stepped back and you whined. He turned to the dresser with the new toys. Shooting you a smirk.

He picked up the lube, and made his way over to you, he kneeled in front of you. "You clenched your soul with your confession like a good girl. But now we need to get rid of the sin in your body." He slowly reached out stroking the string above your breast. "Do you understand, child?" You nodded instantly. "Tell me." "I understand, Father, I will do as you say, I just want to be pure again." "Good girl," with a swift tug he ripped the fabric of your bra and threw it on the floor. You tits bounced with the force. "Hmm," he hummed in pleasure at seeing your tits. He reached out weighing them in your hand. "Is this what the man in your dream those to you." You nodded pushing your chest more into his hands. He rubbed them slowly before taking the lube putting some on the tip of his fingers. He lifted your chin so you would look directly at him. He reached out tracing your nipples with the cold lube. He watches as your face transforms into one of pleasure. "Do you feel that? This is sin leaving your body." "Yes, Father." He took his time getting your nipples nice and hard. It was driving you crazy, your underwear impossibly wet. "Now, we need to punish you so you will never forget the lord's words." He went and picked up the nipple clamps. He kissed your right breast before pinning the clip onto your nipple. You moaned, closing your eyes. fuck this hurt so good. Before doing int to the other. You looked so good with the veil on your face, your tits out and adorned with clamps. "Now you look like the good girl I know you are. But God needs to know it too." With that he reached down, between your legs, under your panties. "Tss, tss, what do we have here." He felt the wetness between your legs, circling your clit. You let out small moans, holding onto his arm. "Your impure thoughts made you wet, this is not acceptable. I will need to punish you further, or God will not forgive you." He pulled his hand back and you cried out. He walked towards the dresser picking up the riding crop. "Spread your legs, put your pussy on display for me." Fuck, yes you wanted nothing more. You scooted towards the edge of the bed, spreading your legs. The white was almost see-through now from your wetness. "Lay back my child, take your punishment like the sinner you are." He stepped between your legs, admiring your stretched-out form. Your chest heaving, your body tense with anticipation. Wham, he brought the riding corp onto your pussy. "Ah," you arched your back. Wham, another one had you moaning. Before he continued he caressed your pussy. God, you wished that he had taken your underwear of first but he was such a tease he would not give it to you until he felt you deserved it. He gave you five more lashes. "Seven, the holy number. You should be pure again." He kneeled down between your legs, and slowly he kissed the inner of your right tight, before moving to the left always leaving out your pussy. Slowly he dragged down your panties. "Hm, seems like this holy punishment was not enough. I will have to take more drastic measures to ensure your soul is saved." He took of his sweater and got rid of his shoes and pants. "The only way to save you is to fuck the thoughts out of you. Lay back on the bed, and take your punishment." You crawled up the bed before spreading your legs again, you were more than ready to feel Billy's cock. "Please, make me pure again with your cock." Butcher gave you a smirk as he crawled over your body. He leaned down, covering your whole body with his. "Don't ya' worry, I'll fuck the sin outta ya'." He whispered in your ear before giving you the most intense and sloppy kiss. You still had the veil over your face but that didn't stop Butcher, he was all tongue and teeth. He tugged on the chain pulling on your nipples, "Ah, I can't, I need you Father please." He tugged on the chain again, making your eyes roll back into your head. "I dream about you father, the man that comes into my room. It is you, all you." Butcher gave you a satisfied smirk. "Good girl."

He reached down between your bodies. He took his cock into his hand and swiped it between your pussy lips, circling your clit before thrusting into you with one swift push. You both groaned in unison. "Fuck yes," Butcher lost all control pounding into you, spitting profanities. "My own personal fuck slut, such a sinful baby, Imma fuck it out of you." He punctuated every word with a thrust. "Say it, say you are my sinful fuck slut." "Ah, I am, Father." You moaned. "I am your sinful fuck slut, always." He reached his hand between your body drawing circles on your clit. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten but before you could reach your peak he drew back. He pushed your hands above your head. "Keep them here. I want to see your tits bounce freely." You held onto the headboard, trying to contain your screaming. Butcher held onto your waist pulling you back onto your cock while fucking into you. "Yes, yes, yes, please." You whined. He could cum from the sight of you spread out. "Imma keep you hear now. As my personal fuck slut, never let you go. You gonna wear that little veil of yours and the lord around your neck and nothing more. I will fuck you in every which way I wish. First Imma cum in that pussy of yours, then on your tits and face. I'll fuck you from the back put my cock in your ass make you feel me everywhere. 'cause this cunt is mine." Butcher let out a deep groan, as he felt you tighten around him. God this man could talk you into an orgasm. He quickly pushed his hands between the two of you rubbing circles on your clit, alternating between small and quick and slow and wide circles. You could not hold it in any longer, "I'm gonna cum, Father, oh please." "Yes, my slut, cum for your Priest. Make me proud." With a final thrust, you came screaming his name. Butcher watched in aw how your face contorted in pleasure and it was the final straw for him. He quickly pulled out, quickly sitting on your chest. "You don't deserve my cum just yet. You need to show me your devotion before I will fill you up. Make you my cum slut." He was groaning while stroking himself furiously. You moaned at the thought, pushing your tongue out of your mouth waiting for him to finally paint you with his cum. He let out a final groan and came all over your face, you could hardly taste him because of the veil. But it quickly became Butcher's favourite accessory. He stroked himself until he was spent before picking up the Polaroid camera on the nightstand and snapping a picture of your face, the cross necklace and your tits covered in cum.

"Guess there is something good about religion after all," Butcher commented pulling you to him.

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 5

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Get ready, there be some surprises in store for this one…

Word Count: 5,100

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut (m. receiving oral and implied smut), SB’s attempts at flirting lol.

Part 5: Morning, Night & Day

Now that you were allowed to roam the mansion freely, you were able to confirm that it was huge. And it was beautiful…if a bit dusty. 

The house boasted Spanish style arches and textured walls, cherry wood furniture and rod iron lamps and wall sconces, not to mention various art pieces on the walls that looked well-curated. No doubt Soldier Boy had hired an excellent interior designer.

You were more interested in the garden outside. It was tucked away behind the pool, in the shade of large palm fronds and bigger trees. Peeking through them was a lovely view of the mountains. 

Though it reminded you of the damn cliff where you fell, Soldier Boy saving you, and of course, being an arrogant asshole about it. 

Your lips pursed in annoyance. What a dick.

Expelling a heavy sigh, you shook the thought of him out of your head as best you could, and tilted your head up to the sunshine. You’d found a nice stone bench to just sit and be, and try not to think about why you were here.

“Lunch time,” Frank said, encroaching on your solitude. He wasn’t a chatty man, always one to hand off your meal and leave. Escort you back to your room and leave. 

You were bored enough (and perhaps lonely enough) to attempt a conversation.

“You seem to be the brains of the operation,” you remarked. “Yet he’s got you babysitting me. My condolences.”

Frank gave you a bland look. He wasn’t a hothead like Tony, but he was starting to look annoyed as he was still holding out the plate to you. It looked like a roast beef sandwich on rye with some mixed fruit on the side. At least they were trying to keep you healthy.

“I’m not a fan of rye bread,” you admitted. “Tastes like sour cardboard.” 

But you took the plate anyway. 

“Want to sit?” you offered a place next to you on the bench, before Frank could scurry off. “I doubt doing Soldier Boy’s bidding is more fun than ignoring me for a few minutes.”

You could tell he was about to leave anyway. So you tried one more thing.

“He’d probably want you to watch me,” you pointed out. “Make sure I don’t choke on a grape or something.”

Frank’s mouth twitched, though it wasn’t quite a smile. After a moment of indecision, he surprised you by sitting down with you. You’d been trying to get Frank to talk to you for days, but he was definitely the strong and silent type. The good soldier, following his orders. 

You were a curious person by nature, but more than that, you wanted to know what kind of men your captors were. You weren’t just learning Soldier Boy. You had to learn his team too.

So you offered Frank a grape. He met you with a raised brow, but he didn’t take it. You shrugged and popped it into your mouth.

“So,” you started, tucking into your sandwich next. “Ex-military, turned private sector?” 

Frank shot you another look. He was older than you, though not quite old enough to be your father. He could have been around M.M.’s age.

“You carry yourself like an military man. Marine maybe,” you guessed. 

Frank sighed and gave a short nod. “Good guess.”

“My father was a Marine,” you said. And that was the truth. Military men ran in your family—from your father to your grandfather, though you’d never met the latter. He’d died of liver and kidney failure, thanks to good old-fashioned alcoholism.

Frank snorted. “My condolences.” 

You eyed him with a small smile. “You got a family? Wife and kids?”

He hesitated, casting his gaze ahead. You sensed it was a question with a potentially loaded answer, so you let it be. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I know the feeling, being married to your job. Harder to quit than heroin.” 

When you offered him another grape, this time, he actually took one.  

Being able to tell between night and day somehow told your body that the night was no longer for sleeping. So your wandering continued that night. 

Moonlight poured through the tall windows outlooking the garden, but most of the mansion was dark and eerie and all but silent, except for some quiet rain pattering outside. 

It’s like an episode of Scooby Doo in here, you thought with a shiver. The long halls were empty and mostly dark, with just a few dim wall lights along the way. Still, you’d rather be alone than run into one of Soldier Boy’s goons, or even the man himself. 

But you wanted to rejoice when you found the kitchen. Finally, you could put together a meal for yourself that wasn’t a damn sandwich. 

Both the pantry and fridge were fully stocked with expensive-looking ingredients. At the moment though, you weren’t so hungry for a heavy meal as you were for a snack. Maybe something for your incurable sweet tooth. 

You rifled through and found something you recognized: a family-sized tray of Chips Ahoy. 

Ooh, success! With a grin, you ripped open the top and rifled through the cupboards for a glass.

“The hell’re you doing?”

You jumped with a yelp at the voice that startled you. You looked over your shoulder and frowned in annoyance when you noted Soldier Boy in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame. A snappish retort was on your tongue, but at the last moment, you held onto the threads of your temper.  

Don’t be difficult, you reminded yourself, however much the thought grated.

“Midnight snack,” you replied, nodding to the open parcel of cookies. “Want some?”

You took out two glasses without looking at him, but you could hear him approach. When you went to the fridge to look for some milk, you noticed him take a seat at the kitchen island in front of you, where there were three stools. 

“What’re you, a fucking eight-year-old?” he remarked. You raised a brow at him and took no less than five cookies from the tray. 

“You’re never too old for milk and cookies,” you said sagely. You were a proud dunker, and you did so until your cookie was half-soggy with milk. You shoved an entire one into your mouth and looked him in the eyes when you did it. 

His lips tugged upwards, dryly amused, while his gaze not-so-subtly raked over your form. You almost rolled your eyes, but you resisted. He could take in your oversized shirt and sweats all he wanted.

“‘S that a man’s shirt?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Not a lot to pick from here at the Holiday Inn,” you quipped. You were running out of clean items that would actually fit you, and you weren’t about to run around here in some of the slutty shit you’d found.

“Can’t sleep?” You distracted him with the question, then slid a glass of milk in front of him. Regardless of what he said, he’d glanced at those cookies twice. 

This was an opportunity, you thought. A chance to get into his head, see what the fuck made him tick.   

Soldier Boy eyed the milk, then you. After a moment, he grabbed a cookie and took a bite. He didn’t answer your question, and instead asked one of his own.

“How’d you get caught up with Butcher?” he asked. 

You smiled behind your glass. It seemed he was curious about you too. 

“I work at Supe Affairs.” That was easy enough for you to admit. And if he was smart, he would’ve had Frank run a background check on you. 

Soldier Boy snorted. “Yeah, I figured that fucking much. Doesn’t answer my fucking question.”

So damn rude. You wanted to sigh. 

“I help run surveillance,” you said. But before he could ask his next predictable question, you continued, “Grace Mallory recruited me because I was a private investigator…and like you, I worked at Vought for a while.”

His attention piqued at that. 

“Though your tenure was a bit before my time,” you couldn’t help a light jab. 

His lips curved again. “Why’d you take a job you couldn’t hope to win? You got some vendetta against me, like Butcher?”

You arched a brow, watching him shove another cookie into his mouth. If anyone had a vendetta against him it was M.M., but trust Soldier Boy to conveniently forget murdering the man’s grandfather.

“You’re asking if I’m obsessed with you? I think not,” you said with a genuine chuckle, then sipped at your milk with some decency. Unlike your companion, who already had a pile of soggy crumbs on the counter beneath him.

Soldier Boy shot you a frown, and his eyes said he didn’t believe you. He sat back in his chair, his jean-clad legs falling open casually. His gaze on you, however, was anything but. You wouldn’t admit it, but it made heat creep up the back of your neck.

“Really?” he said. “‘Cause I gotta tell ya, sweetheart. During your slutty little seduction act, you were pretty fucking responsive.”

He rubbed his palms slow down his thighs, like he could still feel yours wrapped around his hips and grinding your hot core against his slacks. 

You stared back at him as your lips pressed together. 

Soldier Boy tilted his head at you, his smile turning smug. “The filthy sounds I was getting outta you…”

You set down your glass on the counter. Reaching for another cookie, you rested your elbows on the counter and leveled him with a teasing smile of your own. 

“Unlike you, Ben, I’m a good actor,” you replied. 

His brow twitched at that, however subtle. You couldn’t tell if using his real name annoyed him, or if it just added to the game you two were playing. But it felt right, stripping him of at least that façade. 

He wasn’t a soldier. He wasn’t even a superhero, really. He was just a man. 

Albeit, a super fucking strong one with an ego the size of Empire State. But a man. The same kind you’d dealt with all your life. 

And he crossed his arms, like he was starting to lose his patience with you. 

“Then why’d you come out here?” 

Munching on a dry chocolate chip, you answered, “To get paid. Why else?” 

Again, it didn’t look like he believed you. 

“You don’t look the type,” he said.

“Don’t I?” you said. He seemed to know you were holding something back, but not willing to admit he wanted to know it. 

And you weren’t willing to give it to him. He didn’t need to know that you’d taken this job to support your family. Because what the hell would he know about family? 

…But at the same time, his curiosity just made it all the clearer: in whatever small way, you’d piqued his interest. He wanted to figure you out. 

And maybe that was the real reason you were still alive. 

It started to happen like that more often.

Midnight snacks, as you’d continued to call it in your head. When you couldn’t take being alone with your thoughts (or being alone at all), if you made your way to the kitchen you often found Ben.

Whatever was keeping him awake, he seemed to crave the company as you rifled through the pantry. From alfajores, macarons, and chips, to the entire leftover ham from dinner, he often smoked a large blunt and ate whatever you found. 

You’d taken a hit once when he offered, but the shit was so strong than you abstained afterwards. You wanted to be in your fully right mind around him.

And you talked—about the old-ass TV shows he never got to see the end of, and the new music he hated. You’d enjoyed (gently) teasing him about being an old man who didn’t understand Cardi B when you played it on his phone. You suspected he didn’t quite understand how all the bells and whistles worked on an iPhone yet. (But he’d taken it back from you before you could text anyone.)

“In my day, there was a little more fucking class,” he’d said. “Sinatra. Nat King Cole. Christ, the fucking Beatles.” 

You’d rolled your eyes at that. You liked all those guys too, actually. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t bang out all the words to “Bodak Yellow” and “Please Me.” 

You also talked about the movies he missed out on. The ones you thought he’d probably enjoy, like the Terminator sequels and Liam Neeson’s Taken (if only for the sheer irony). And all the while, he asked you probing questions he likely thought were subtle. 

“What did you do at Vought?” he asked over chips and salsa. 

You thought the salsa was a bit too spicy, but he was lapping it up. It both amused and disgusted you. 

Until he licked some of it off his fingers. Catching your gaze, his became mischievous. He slid his fingers out of his mouth with an obscene noise. All the while, his deep green eyes held yours. 

You would never admit to being turned on, but you felt your cheeks warming up as you fought not to react, watching the juices drip down his fingers.

“I ran down criminals for the supes to ‘catch’ them,” you managed to reply. “They just got to do the sweeping in part.”

“Lazy shits,” he remarked, licking off the remaining salsa from his hand. You tried not to focus on the sight of his tongue. Afterwards, he gave you reprieve by wiping his hands on a paper towel.

What the fuck is wrong with me? You inwardly shook your head at yourself. 

“Back in my day, we actually ran down our own leads,” he said. “Sure, we got tips every now and then, but we did our own busts.”

You didn’t know how much of that you could believe, considering he’d never even fought in World War II, despite his numerous claims of pounding Nazis up the ass.  

“How’d you end up there, anyway?” he asked. 

“Vought paid more than private practice,” you wryly replied. 

He eyed you then. “And before?”

Before? Was he just bored, or did he genuinely want to know about your life? 

Still, this was starting to veer into things you’d rather not talk about.  

“Worked for my dad’s P.I. firm,” you said, making an effort to untighten your spine. “I learned what I know from him.”

That much was the truth, though you hadn’t spoken to him in over a year. 

Ben chortled, making you frown. “‘A’ for fucking effort there, sweetheart.”

You huffed. Yes, you did realize the irony of being kidnapped by the man you’d hunted down (sort of). Didn’t mean he had to be such an asshole about it.

“He must be fucking proud,” he added. Your gaze sharpened with irritation. 

“Like your dad was proud of you?” out came your pointed reply, before you could stop yourself.  

His amusement faded, likely as he stared back at you and saw that you knew for a fact what he’d told Butcher.

A fucking disappointment.

He didn’t bother lying, but his lip curled into a sneer. 

“Be careful, sweetheart,” he warned. You heard the underlying threat in his voice. You forced yourself to keep your mouth shut, lowering your eyes. The act was grating on you, boiling your blood.

But it seemed to mollify him enough. He let out a low chuckle. 

“I’ll let that one go,” he said. “Next time, I might not be so fucking nice.”

You believed him. 

It was a week of this, before you finally found out the hard way where Ben’s room was. 

You were wandering down a long hallway on the second floor, over in the west wing of the house. Your room was in the east, so you really hadn’t seen this side of the mansion before. The problem was, all these halls were looking the same to you. 

And now you had no idea how to get back to the main hall, where by now you could navigate downstairs to the kitchen, the back garden, the pool hall, a study room (with several shelves of books), a gym, and even an indoor movie theater. 

Suddenly, you thought you heard a woman’s voice, high and giggly. What the hell?

Your natural curiosity led you farther down the hall, where you could see light and movement beneath the closed door. Whatever (and whoever) was in there, you really should just let it be. 

You’d been able to successfully avoid Ben for the past few days, and you didn’t feel like dealing with the headache of another encounter with him—for as long as you could manage it.

So you were just about to turn back and keep on your merry way.  

But when you heard a slap, followed by a feminine cry of pain, you halted in your step. With your brows crunching in concern, you couldn’t help but approach the door again. You leaned in to listen.

Another slap, another pained mewling from the girl. Your mouth turned down in an angry frown of alarm. 

What the fuck is going on? You didn’t know what kind of sick shit he was into, but if he was hurting some poor girl for his own entertainment, you knew you couldn’t just walk away. 

After one more second of hesitation, you gripped the door handle and shoved it open. 

What you found seared your eyes. 

In unblinking shock, you took in the shambled state of Ben’s room. Clothes strewn haphazardly about, remnants of lines of coke on the coffee table, plates of half-eaten delicacies left on a wheeled in buffet, bottles of liquor, half-empty glasses and shots rolling around. 

And a California king bed occupied the center, where the sheets and pillows had fallen off while Soldier Boy fucked no less than five prostitutes. All looked to be of various ethnicities and a wide age range. The oldest of them looked saggy enough to be in her seventies, but she was working as hard and skillfully as the rest of them.  

One of the younger ones, maybe around your age, was getting spanked by one of his large hands while another girl’s head bobbed over his lap with gusto. The other three were finding things to do, whether on the man himself, or to each other in front of him on the bed. 

In reality, you probably took all this in for just a few seconds. 

But a gasp fell unbidden from your lips, along with a “Jesus fucking Christ!”

Ben looked like he had been working up a mild sweat. Broken from his concentration though, he glanced up at you. And then the broadest, Cheshire cat fucking grin spread across his face. 

“Hey, baby doll,” he greeted mischievously. “You here to join in? Here, tag in for, uh…what’s your name again, sweetheart?”

He looked down and grabbed the shoulder of the girl in his lap. She released his cock out of her mouth for a second to answer, “Jasmine.”

“Sure,” he said with a nod. Then he frowned and gestured to his still rock-hard dick. Your eyes widened in shock—both at the audacity, and at the size of it. You blushed hotly.

“But don’t fucking stop now, Jesus,” he said to the girl. And he looked over at you with a raised brow. “Unless you wanna jump in…but seriously, don’t make me wait all fuckin’ day here.”

Your face contorted in disgust. 

“There’s not enough fucking therapy for this,” you muttered. 

Then you fled the room, slamming the door behind you so hard that it rattled. It still didn’t muffle his laughter behind the door. 

Your face, neck, and the tips of your ears were on fire as you hastened down the hall. 

By the time you got to the kitchen, you could even hear your rapid heartbeat in your ears. You set a hand over your chest and felt the thump, thump, thumping under your palm. 

Images continued to flash through your mind—naked flesh, bouncing tits, shockingly adept wrinkled hands. And then the man’s chiseled bare form, planes of tanned skin over muscle, and strong-looking hands.  

Fucking hell. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of your brain’s ongoing loop, but it was a losing battle. With a long and frustrated sigh, you reached into the fridge and grabbed all the ingredients you needed to make a damn sandwich. 

You knew Ben had hired a personal chef (Simone, you thought her name was), but you were pretty sure she was currently part of the service the supe entourage today. 

You slapped together a turkey and provolone sandwich with some lettuce, mayo, and a pickle for added “razzle dazzle.” 

Though on second thought, you put the pickle back. 

With an aggravated huff, you stood at the counter and tore into your dinner (you were too angry to sit at this point). You devoured half of it and nearly a whole bag of Doritos by the time that cocky bastard strolled in like the cat that got the cream, and clearly, more than once.

He looked freshly showered, and finally clothed in casual pants and a buttoned down shirt, rolled up on the sleeves.

Ben eyed you with a smirk. You raised a brow at him. 

“That was fast,” you remarked. “I expected you to be in that fuck dungeon all night.” 

“I wouldn’t call it a dungeon,” he said, leaning on the other side of the counter opposite you. “More like a cellar of fine delectables.”

You snorted. “All right, Hugh Hefner. I want to scrub my eyes with bleach.”

“Didn’t look that way from where I was sitting, doll face,” he quipped. His brow rose at you with a salacious, curling smile. You leveled him with a look. 

“At the very least, you would’ve ended that little dry spell of yours,” he added playfully. 

Your gaze sharpened at that. You dropped your sandwich on the plate to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

“What’s it been?” he asked, leaning closer into your personal space with a more knowing grin. “Don’t really fucking tell me it’s been three years since somebody’s laid you out right.”

Despite your outrage at his audacity, your mouth fell open the slightest bit. 

“What…”

Again, he eyed your form, and not subtly at that. Today you’d found a pair of jeans that you’d managed to squeeze into. The polo shirt clinging to your waist and ribs and tight across your breasts wasn’t helping you either.

But you were honestly surprised he could still be looking at you like that when he’d just been doing some Olympic-level fucking. 

Your spine tightened nervously when he straightened to his full height, walking around the kitchen counter towards you. His hand slid across the surface, his head tilting at you in amusement. 

“It’s amazing what you can hear on shitty hotel roofs,” he said. 

Your eyes widened when you understood what he was getting at. When you were on the phone with your sister… 

“Maybe then you’ll—and let me not shock you here—meet someone,” Louisa had said. “And finally put an end to that three-year goddamn dry spell.”

And that prickly feeling you’d felt then, licking up your spine and raising the hairs on the back of your neck…

“You were watching me,” you realized.  

Ben just looked down on you with a deepening smirk. His green eyes were alight with mischief, and yeah, probably lust too.   

“You fucking creep,” you said, with both a sigh and a roll of your eyes (despite your growing blush). 

He chuckled and raised a hand to lightly grip your chin. “That’s not very nice.”

You glared up at him, too angry and stubborn to remember to mind your temper. He seemed to like it though, working you up. He teased and prodded you enough, almost like a little boy trying to get a girl’s attention. Except this one was the most powerful supe alive.

So why does he like it so much, this stupid cat and mouse thing?

Not for the first time, you wondered why he decided to keep you around. And you had a feeling it wasn’t just to bait your friends. Maybe he just liked toying with you, seeing how far he could push until you snapped.

And then what? you wondered. 

Though if you were honest with yourself…you were just as into this little game as he was, albeit for different reasons. You wanted to understand him. 

At first, it was the job. Know the man you’re after.

But now, it was more. Knowing Soldier Boy, getting to know Ben would be the key to making it out of this situation alive. You just knew it…if only he didn’t make it so damn frustrating. 

“Seriously, tell me,” he said, still with a deceptively light grip on your chin. The pad of his thumb brushed your full lower lip, making your breath hitch. He glanced down at your mouth, then back into your eyes. 

“How fucking long’s it been since that pretty pussy’s been touched?” he asked. “‘Cause in my opinion, that’s a crying shame.”

For a moment, your breath got stuck in your throat. You felt a hot blush rising in your cheeks, down your neck…and maybe warmth between your legs at the mere suggestion.

You inwardly steeled yourself, clamping down on your anger and your embarrassment. Instead, you leveled him with a cool smile. 

“Not forty years, I’ll tell you that,” you said. 

While he raised a brow, he let you slowly push his hand away. You left him in the kitchen soon after, but he watched you go. Whether you meant to or not, the sway in your hips and your delectable ass in those tight fucking jeans made his dick twitch. 

Figures, he thought, that you’d get all fucking huffy. He shrugged and picked up half the sandwich you left behind. 

You found nothing else for your frustration but to head outside.

With a sigh, you sat down at the edge of the massive pool and just dipped your legs in. You didn’t have a swimsuit, and you didn’t want to take any chances by getting your clothes wet around here. Or even worse, stripping down to your bra and underwear. 

You blushed at the memory of Ben’s proximity, his touch, his rich, teasing voice that dripped with lustful promise. And that just reminded you of the scenes from his room, which flashed in your mind every so often like a bad porno. 

Shit. You absently bit at one of your nails. Ben had also heard that entire conversation with your sister. That meant he knew about her, and that gave you no small amount of anxiety. 

But he already had you. He hadn’t tried to extort you for anything (yet). You knew though, that if he threatened Luisa, or tried to use her to manipulate you in any way, there wasn’t much you could do but play along, like everything else. 

Right now, anyway… 

You noticed a dark shape out of the corner of your eye, and for a moment you were annoyed, ready to tell Ben to give you a moment’s peace. 

But it wasn’t him. It was Tony standing near the end of the pool. He must’ve been freed from desk duty, or whatever Ben had him doing while he presumably recovered from his injuries.

“What up, Tony?” you greeted, unable to resist a teasing smile when you noticed the large boot for his broken foot. Now plus a few extra bruises from your last tussle. They were dark, but yellowing around the edges. 

His lips twitched at a cold smile. “They’re letting the little mouse out of her room now?”

You shrugged, smirking.

“You look good,” you replied. “How’re the balls though? Still broken?”

Tony expression tightened into a glare. “You better watch it, bitch.”

“Or what?” you challenged.  

There was enough distance between you and him across the pool for you to feel comfortable, but really, you weren’t too afraid of Tony.

Yeah, he was a dick. But you’d taken him down before. You could literally break his balls again if he needed more encouragement to fuck off. 

Tony just smirked back at you, deciding to leave you alone for now. You watched him head back into the house with sharp eyes. He wouldn’t take you by surprise again.

Frank was waiting for you when you got back to your room. You were more relieved to see him than you’d like to admit, and you greeted him with a genuine smile, before you noticed the shopping bags in his hands. 

“What’s this?” you asked. Frank dutifully handed you the bags, and inside you found new clothes. They actually seemed to be your size. 

You looked up at Frank, both shocked and grateful. “You got me clothes?”

“Boss’s orders,” he revealed. Your brows rose high at that. 

“He told you to do this?”

Frank expelled a breath through his nose, hesitating, like he was debating how to frame his reply.

“He provided them,” he said. It felt like a confession, one that made your eyes widen at the implication.

Soldier Boy bought you new clothes? 

You didn’t know how to compute on this one, honestly. But you still answered with a tentative, “Oh. Well…thanks.”

He nodded, and soon left you with your thoughts and your spoils. You went into your room and dumped the bags onto the bed so you could examine their contents. 

There were casual shirts and yoga pants, a couple pairs of jeans, some sneakers, thank God. All the bras and panties, however, were lacey and expensive.

You shook your head with a smile, eyeing the labels. This man really went to Victoria’s Secret to buy you new underwear. 

It was both kind and somewhat sleazy, knowing he was going to be imagining you in the sexy, but admittedly tasteful lingerie. 

The “kind” part took you by surprise though. The clothes overall weren’t revealing or obnoxious. Even the underwear and bras were in styles you’d probably wear, under normal circumstances. 

So you put together an outfit out of one of the shirts and a pair of jeans, breathing a sigh of relief when you could peel the old ones off. 

This was a far cry from bullying and annoying you, and generally being an arrogant son of a bitch. 

The truth was, Ben was confusing you.

Perhaps now more than ever. 

AN: 🤭 Well, one would argue that she saw more sides of Ben than she thought she would (or wanted to). 😜

Let me know what you thought of this chapter! Things are definitely going to ramp up in the next one...

Keep Reading: PART 6

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

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[huntingingoodwill]

an adult dinner party (m.m.)

masterlist

desc: when your attempts to help out marcus with a dinner party go south, he swoops in to save the day. not all heroes wear capes. some of them wear aprons.

a/n: a fluffy fic for the @happypedrohours charcuterie writing challenge based on the prompt poppy seed crackers w/ marcus m!!!

“Poppy seed crackers. Like the stuff they make opium from?” Marcus said, squinting at the ingredients list printed on the back of the box.

“I’m sure they’re not selling expiring opium at the grocery store clearance section.” You laughed, the words already sounding doubtful as they left your mouth. Would they sell opium at the grocery store?

“What’s opium?” Missy said, looking extremely bored as she lounged in the shopping cart.

“Google it.” You said, words overlapping with Marcus’ as he said, “You don’t need to know.”

“Whatever it is, it’s bad for you.” The two of you said in unison.

“Are we having opium at the dinner party?” Missy asked.

“Nah.” Marcus said, ruffling her hair. “Doubt that’d go down well with the other parents.”

You felt the box of crackers crinkle beneath your tense knuckles at the mention of the other parents.

As a member of the Parents’ Association at Missy’s school, it was Marcus’ turn to host a dinner for them tonight. You were determined to cook a feast to end all feasts for him, but you were definitely feeling the pressure.

“You’re gonna crush them.” He chuckled, extracting the crackers from your iron grip and tossing them to Missy, who caught them and placed them next to her in the cart.

“I just really want to help you make a good impression. I want to put on the perfect Adult Dinner Party.” You placed special emphasis on the last three words, aspirational ideas of sophisticated conversation over aperitifs flashing through your mind.

“Adult? Like X-rated?” Marcus grinned, killing your images of civilised chatter and hors d’oeuvres served on silver platters. His smile was illuminated by his phone as he skimmed over the frantic grocery list you had sent him, full of typos and vague ingredients.

“What’s ‘MEAT THE COLD KIND’?” he said, pointing at the words that flashed across his screen.

“I feel like ‘MEAT THE COLD KIND’ is pretty explanatory.” You said, drifting towards the cold cuts, tossing some prosciutto into the cart before steering towards the self-checkout area.

As you packed your groceries away, you watched as Marcus aimed the scanner at Missy, red lights flashing over her frame.

“Nothing.” She said, staring at the till where, naturally, no product registered. “Guess I’m worthless.” She joked.

“You’re priceless.” He corrected, turning the scanner on you. “And so are you.”

You rolled your eyes at his corniness, melting into his touch as he reached to cup your face in his large, warm hands, thumbs skimming the lines of your cheekbones.

“You’ll be fine tonight. Everything will be okay.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pointedly ignoring Missy’s pleas for the both of you to get a room.

“I’ll be fine.” You repeated, taking a deep breath that seemed to usher out all the anxiety that lingered in your body. “Everything will be okay.”

“Everything is NOT okay!” You wailed later that evening, flying into Marcus’ arms as soon as he came into the kitchen. You had only ushered him out of the kitchen an hour earlier to get him to set the dining table and clean up some of the everyday clutter accrued in the living room, but it was already apparent that things weren’t turning out as you hoped.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned, holding you tight in his embrace.

“Turns about, despite my hopes and delusions, I am not Julia Child.” You groaned into the crook of his neck. “I can’t even fold the meat elegantly.” You said, gesturing at the haphazard ribbons of prosciutto splayed out on the charcuterie board.

“Can meat be folded elegantly?” Marcus said, arching an eyebrow.

“Don’t ask me! I wouldn’t know!” You threw your hands up in the air, sardonic words dripping in frustration.

He smiled, the image of calm amidst a kitchen that looked like a tornado had ripped through it, before using his thumb to swipe some flour off your cheek.

“That’s from the Beef Wellington.” You sighed.

“Honey, I’ve always loved your ambition.” He smiled, planting his hands on your shoulders.

“I think the parents of the association would love elegant prosciutto more than my ambition.”

He opened his mouth to protest, the shrill ring of the oven timer interrupting him.

“Help me get the Wellington, please.” You said, carving slices out of a block of cheese spotted with blue mould for the charcuterie board.

“Um, is the Wellington supposed to be so… pale?”

You dropped the knife, panic beginning to swell in your chest.

“How pale are we talking?”

“A grain of rice in a snowstorm?”

You dashed toward the oven, the swell of panic burgeoning into a wave of horror that crashed over you as you saw Marcus holding a Wellington encased with completely raw dough.

You stuck your hand in the oven, letting out a defeated wail.

“It’s not even on! It’s so cold in there, an ice cube would get goosebumps.”

You flopped onto the tiled kitchen floor, staring at the ceiling in defeat.

“You win, Adult Dinner Party. I surrender.” You breathed, exhausted.

“Mr and Mrs McCartney are here.” Missy said, appearing in the kitchen’s entryway.

“HELP!” You cried.

“Missy, stall them outside for a little. I’ll bring them in in a second.” Marcus sat down next to you as soon as Missy made a beeline for the door, smoothing stray hairs away from your face.

“Just go upstairs and get ready. I’ll handle it.” He soothed.

“Are you sure?” You sniffed.

“I’m sure. I can’t undercook the charcuterie board, can I? Charcuterie is French for ‘slap it on a wooden block and call it a day’.”

“I think Duolingo is lying to you.” You said, the smile returning to your face. He always knew how to do that.

“Maybe.” He smiled, offering you his arm and bringing you to your feet, the movement making a strange crunching noise that prompted the both of you to look at the floor.

You had managed to knock the box of crackers off the counter during your earlier flurry of movement, and he had stepped on them, reducing them to little crumbs that sprayed across the tile.

“Those crackers are driving me crazy.” You sighed.

“Same.” Marcus sighed, taking a peek out of the window to watch as Mr and Mrs McCartney pretended to listen to Missy tell an animated story out on the porch.

He ushered you toward the stairs.

“You’ll be okay?” You said, shooting an anxious look over your shoulder.

“I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” He said, his calming voice washing over you with a wave of relief.

“Thank you.” You whispered, turning to give him a parting kiss.

It was only 20 minutes later when you descended the stairs, greeted by a crowd of elegant parents, nibbling on charcuterie and cocktails made out of the week old carton of orange juice that had been sitting in the fridge, and the dregs of whatever liquor Marcus could find in the kitchen cupboard.

“You look amazing.” Marcus said, reaching for your hand, staring at you with a glint of awe in his eye, even if all you did was freshen up as quick as you could and thrown on whatever nice old thing was hanging in the closet.

“You are amazing.” You whispered, pulling him into the kitchen, poppy seed crumbs still underfoot.

“So are you.” He grinned, warm palms travelling over your sides and finding their place on your hips.

“The meat was folded very elegantly, and the poppy seed crackers were scarcely missed.” You muttered, lips upturning as your hand skimmed the front of his shirt, travelling up his chest to fix his tie. “I love you. You’re perfect.”

“You’re pretty wonderful yourself.” He chuckled. “Wellington’s in the fridge for tomorrow’s dinner and the pizza delivery guy said he’ll be here in five minutes. Is it the X-rated pizza party you were hoping for?”

You rolled your eyes, smacking him playfully on the arm.

“It’s Adult Dinner Party.” You corrected. “And yes, it’s everything I hoped for and more.”

Stealing a moment away from the party, the mild chatter continuing outside the door, your lips met in the middle of the kitchen, holding each other tight amongst powdery spills of flour, cracked eggshells and poppy seed cracker crumbs. The perfect embrace in the most imperfect of places.

[enchantedflameandflower]

A Billy Butcher Christmas 2/?

Chapter 2

Billy looked out the window as if he was seeing the Christmas lights for the first time and the expression on his face lightened just a little. “Ah,” he sighed, and turned back to you. “It is, isn’t it.”

"I’m sorry the job didn't work out the way you wanted,” you snuggled closer to him determined not to let his lack of Christmas spirit get you down. “Maybe I can cheer you up and we can make some good Christmas memories." When you looked up into his dark eyes you caught a fleeting glimpse of real warmth but it was soon swept into a maelstrom of other emotions you couldn’t quite pin down.

Abruptly he stood up, leaving a draft of cold air in his wake. "I were just thinkin' of somethin' I need to run by M.M. I'll be right back," he said in a somewhat grumbly voice as he left the room.

There was suddenly a lump in your throat and a prickle of tears behind your eyes as you gazed back out at the lights. So much for your -

Billy’s gruff voice suddenly interrupted your thoughts. "Ho ho ho...” he intoned with a deep voice. “I really kinda like me girls on the naughty side."

When you turned around the most incongruous sight met your eyes. There was Billy with a Santa hat set at a jaunty angle and a Christmas sack of something slung over his shoulder.

A warm laugh bubbled up through your tears, now tears of joy, and you hastily wiped them away. “Billy…” You were at a loss for words, so instead you stood, throwing your arms around his neck. His free hand slid around your waist, holding you close as you hugged him and as soon as you were able to collect yourself you pulled back to look at him. “What’s all this?” you breathed, eyeing the red sack.

His eyes crinkled with his smile. "Your very own somewhat deranged Saint Nick bringin' you a sack of well deserved Christmas joy. Oh and uh...ya can take the saint part at yer own peril." He set the sack on the couch then sat down next to it pulling you into his lap. "Ya wannn see what Santa brought ya for Christmas, little girl?"

You giggled and couldn’t help grinning, feeling those happy tears prick at your eyes again. His lap was warm and it seemed everything before forgotten. “Well I like my Santa kind of naughty as well, so that’s perfect. I -“ You were so overwhelmed that he did all this for you that you lost your words for a second. “Yes let’s see.”

He grinned as he opened the sack and pulled out the first bright beautifully wrapped package. You could just imagine him charming the store clerk into wrapping it for him. The thought made you smile. You carefully unwrapped the package knowing Billy was probably about ready to tear the paper off himself so you could see what's inside. Finally opening the box and parting the tissue you caught the first glimpse of satin and lace in Christmas red.

You pulled the material carefully from the box, it was impossibly soft and beautiful, and you held it up. It was a red satin nightgown, short with thin straps and trimmed with expensive red lace. You honestly loved it, and you had a feeling he would love it just as much. “Billy, it’s beautiful. I love it, thank you.”

He grinned that charming grin that brought out his dimple. "Glad ya like it, darlin'. I thought it'd look gorgeous on ya. I'm hopin' you'll try it on for me later." He winks at you, his dark hazel eyes twinkling with pleasure.

"Now, let's see here," he says opening the sack again and pulling out a prettily wrapped package about the size and shape of a bottle of perfume.

You took the gift and so carefully started to unwrap it. There’s no way…you thought to yourself. But it was. Your favorite perfume in a perfect small glass bottle. Really it was the only perfume you’d wear. There had never been any other you’d liked but you’d ran out of your own bottle a couple months ago and hadn’t wanted to spend the money on new one. “Billy,” you whispered, taking the cap off and smelling the scent. “How did you know?”

"I remembered how good it smelled on you everytime I nuzzled into yer neck and...I hadn't smelled it for awhile. I do notice little things sometimes," he chuckled softly. "I'm glad it makes ya happy. Happy looks good on you." He shakes the sack out and one more pretty package tumbles out. It's long and sort of flat and rectangular...like a box that would contain jewelry. You carefully open the box and there's a little stylized golden sun with diamond accents on a gold chain. "That one's to remind you that your me spot of sunshine every day." His large hand smooths up and down over your back.

“I always want to be, if you’ll have me,” you murmured softly, turning the charm between your thumb and finger. “It’s perfect. Will you help me?” you asked. He took the necklace as you turned and pulled all of your hair to one side. You hadn’t felt this happy in quite awhile…he did all of this for you. He lifted the necklace over your head and you felt his fingers brushing the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck while he fastened the clasp.

"Let me see, darlin'," he said softly. You shift in his lap and turn so he can see the front of you. "Ah, it looks good. Suits ya." His smile was so genuine and warm. Then, tucking a couple of fingers under your chin, he tilted your head up to him leaning in and brushing his lips over yours.

*_*_*

Lettuce know if you want more! 🎄❤️

[spideycatt]

Wig Thief || 1610!M.M x Black!Fem!Reader

[Oneshot]

Synopsis: The one day you decide to switch it up Miles just gotta be himself

Word Count: 1.1K

Song Recs: Change your life // Kehlani, Snooze // SZA, Garden // SZA

Warnings: Fem black reader, reader has a mom, banter, mentions of weed, one sentence in Spanish, cuss words (and use of the word nigga), Reader has a smart mouth (kinda), incense, screaming, reader has a chubby belly (I think it's so cute I can't help myself)

Not rlly warnings: Reader has locs (on the shorter side), Miles is taller than reader, use of aave, wig-snatchin (incase some of yall got ptsd LMAO), Reader's kinda on the boho side (not entirely tho)

Lmk if I missed anything!!

You recently got your locs retwisted and went through every hairstyle in the book. And if you were being completely honest with yourself, you missed your afro. You voiced this to your mother and she immediately shot you down to your dismay.

"Girl get the fuck out my face with that nonsense." She'd waved you off, obviously not willing to hear you out.

"But ma! I'm starting to get bored of my locs, there's only so much a girl could doooo." You whined, flopping on her bed as she side-eyed you for not listening to her.

"Just get a wig, you used to wear 'em all the time. You not taking out them locs, and if you do, I'm not the one paying to get them redone when you regret it." She argued, going back to her loud Facebook video. And honestly, even though you couldn't take them out, you still saw this small compromise as a victory.

This leads you to now, in the hair store trying to figure out which one you wanted. You didn't want any flashy colors just yet, wanting to do something tame for the time being. Deciding on a dark-colored afro, you buy some more products with the wig and leave.

When you got to your house you immediately played some tunes on the tv and lit some lavender incense, you were gonna smoke a blunt while you did your hair but decided to save it for later. You sit down in front of your long mirror, braiding your locs back while watching Bumblebee on your laptop. You were so into the movie you didn't hear your bedroom window open.

"Whatcha watchin'?" Your boyfriend, Miles, whispered in your ear, ripping a shriek out of you.

"Miles, how many times I gotta tell you to stop doing that shit?" You say with a hand on your chest, heart beating a thousand miles (haha) per second.

He shrugged.

The mother fucker shrugged.

"Don't make me get up and beat you up."

"Damn, ma. I'm sorry." He laughed sitting down behind you, wrapping his long arms around your torso. He kisses behind your ear gently. "And you didn't answer my question..."

"I'm- Miles stop rubbing on my stomach." You deadpan at him through the mirror. "My Ma said I couldn't take my locs out so she told me to put on a wig."

"Why'd you wanna take 'em out in the first place?" He raised an eyebrow at you expectantly. "Uhmm 'cause I'm getting bored of my locs. You question me too damn much."

"What it look like?"

"There you go asking more questions."

"C'mon, ma I'm just curious.." He said getting up and looking for said wig. He looked at a purple bag on your bed skeptically, picking it up and finding a mop of hair inside. He quickly grabbed the bag and your phone and ran into the bathroom.

A beat of silence passes before you realize your boyfriend was missing.

"Miles, why are you so quiet?" And where was your phone..?

"Huh? I'm not being quiet— y-you're being quiet?" He said in more of a question than a statement. You finish up your last braid and stand up, shaking your head.

"I'm coming in there. You bet not be in my shit."

"What? I'm not in your shit —why would you say that?"

You quickly got your answer as to what mess Miles was doing this time. Lo and behold, this grown nigga, wearing your wig. With your phone in his hand. The wig honestly didn't look that bad on him, but his hair was out, making him look like he had a giant head. That and the hairline being way too close to his eyes made you hold back a laugh, feeling more humored than angry.

"Miles."

"Yea?" He said tentatively, setting your phone down on the sink counter.

"Give it here."

"But I look so good!"

"Nigga give it back!" You lunge at him, snatching the wig off his head.

"Ma! Now why would you do that!?!?" He whined snatching the wig back and holding it up in the air, making you stand on your tippy toes.

"Miles! Te voy a matar." You say quickly, almost losing your footing as you jump up to grab the wig out of his hand. "Careful mami you could hurt yourself," He said with a smug look on his face, before running past you into your bedroom.

"Good Spanish, by the way!"

"Miles! Give it backkk." You stomped your foot and pouted at him. It looked like he was gonna give it up for a second, but he put it back on his head. Putting his hand up to look at his nails, he swayed his head dramatically.

"Nuh-uh, girl!! This all me, girl."

"You just have to be you." You huffed, dragging a hand over your face.

"Ok, ok, sorry, baby," He said, walking up to you, taking the wig off his head, and placing it into your awaiting hand. He stood close to you, almost too close, towering over you as he placed a long kiss on your cheek. "Forgive me?"

"Nah. You owe me for this." You glare at him, sitting back down in front of your mirror to finish your hair. "How do some incense and waist beads sound?" he said, sitting down behind you to paw at your belly more.

"And Starbucks for a week." You said, smiling, starting your movie again.

.luv4miles

liked by .luv4ynnie and 567 others

.luv4miles idk why he think he funny…

view all comments

.luv4ynnie idk why you still acting mad when i’m buying you Starbucks for a WEEK?!?!

luv4ynnie

liked by luv4miles and 439 others

.luv4ynnie Thas cuz I am😁

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.luv4miles no miles, ur not. 😾

BONUS:

Apparently, you made too much noise jumping up and down around the bathroom, because you got a call from your mom on your phone. You answer it and put it on speaker.

"Yea, Mama?"

"Y'all making too much damn noise! I don't know who you think you is sneaking Miles up in my house— but if y'all keep making noise, Ima walk up there and handle you myself. And I swear if I catch y'all asses naked and canoodling in bed, Ima whoop both of y'all! And then Ima send Miles home and tell his mama so she can whoop him too! And you gonna be out the house for a week. Bye." She hung up quickly, not letting you respond.

You look back at Miles with a shocked expression to see him making the same look on his face. You guys make eye contact before laughing loudly.

"Oh my god!"

"I can't believe she thought- that- that we were, oh my-" Miles stutters, making you laugh even harder.

Kkuet.

[angelicvee]

Anyone else but you

writer's note: so I noticed there are barely any Annie January x Victoria Neuman pieces out there so I though fuck it! I don't really post my work very much but the small amount of starburst shippers needed it. I'm working on making an AO3 account to publish this on properly but for now I will be posting here!!

Anyone else but you

Chapter one: intertwined, sewn together

of all the people in New York… why her?

—---

Why was moving on such a difficult task? Why was it that everytime Annie January walked into her local grocery store alone she just had to skip the apple section? Green apples to be precise. Perhaps this sort of yearning wasn’t normal. Maybe it was just the cruel reminders of her old friend plastered practically everywhere that stopped her from progressing past highschool. 

Hughie was a great guy. No he wasn't quite perfect but.. He made her happy. Although, Vicky made her happy too. Happier than she had ever been. FUCK! When did food shopping become such a depressing task?

The blonde felt a little silly, actively mapping out the best way to skip the apples and tapioca snack packs. Victoria loved tapioca. She couldn't bring herself to enter any New York bodega. Not without M.M or Hughie with her. God the only thing she could still face was probably weed and whiskey. 

Why was it that Hughie had pursued a career in supernatural affairs? Of all the job’s in New York he just had to choose that one. Really Hughie? Annie had never really mentioned her past with Victoria. It was something she wanted to forget. Well not really but if she lied to herself enough maybe, just maybe she could believe herself. 

The night she found out was like some fucked up fever dream. The mention of simply her name sent emotions rushing forward. A pit forming in the blonde’s stomach. She couldn’t get Victoria’s face out of her mind. Annie could practically feel the woman’s silky brunette hair running over her fingers. Something she often missed. Oh and those big bambi eyes. The ones that always betrayed her pathetic attempts to seem nonchalant as a teenager. That was a problem long gone now. Those eyes once so expressive now seemed empty and tired. 

 It had been years since they’d last spoken, years since Annie had been forced to turn her back toward everything she once knew. Back then, Victoria Neuman had been her everything. The two girls spent every waking hour together. They were conjoined at the hip. Nothing romantic had ever happened but it was undeniable. The tension between them was always there, simmering beneath the surface, but before it could come to a boil, life and Vought had pulled them in different directions.

But  now, Hughie, sweet, kind, naive Hughie was working for Victoria. Annie hadn’t wanted to believe it when he first mentioned her name. Part of her wanted to laugh it off like some sick joke. Instead her heart nearly stopped. Victoria Neuman. The name that held so many memories, both beautiful and painful. 

Annie idly tapped her fingers against the marbled kitchen counter, trying to steady her breathing. The wound of their separation was still raw, festering beneath the surface. How could Hughie not know? How could he not see the turmoil in her eyes when he mentioned Victoria?

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing herself to calm down. Hughie had no idea of the history between her and Victoria. She couldn't blame him for that. But it didn't make it any easier to swallow.

—--

An upscale Manhattan hotel ballroom, warm light cascading from chandeliers, the hum of mingling voices filling the air. It screamed opulence.. Which was a little strange. Atleast in the blonde’s mind. Yes victoria grew up with money due to her adopted father but.. Well she never really acted like it. Not when she was younger.

Annie January tugged at the hem of her dress, the fabric smooth and cool beneath her fingers. She had chosen something understated—a navy blue, almost black with little gold stars embroidered into it. Very on brand.. Just how vought liked things to be. Now, standing at the entrance of the opulent ballroom, the weight of the past felt as heavy as the glittering chandeliers above her.

Hughie was at her side, his hand a reassuring presence at the small of her back. The dress allowing skin to show through.  She glanced up at him, his face beaming with a mixture of pride and nerves. He had no idea how hard she was trying to keep the edges of her smile from fraying.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low, meant only for her.

Annie forced the smile to stay in place, nodding. “Yeah, just…not really my scene, you know?”

He squeezed her hand gently, his touch familiar and comforting. “I know, but it means a lot to me that you’re here. And you’ll love Victoria—she’s really something special.”

Annie’s stomach clenched at the mention of the name she had been trying to keep at bay all night. She had prepared herself for this moment, gone over the possibilities in her head a hundred times. But hearing Victoria’s name flow out in Hughie’s casual tone, as if it meant nothing more than another colleague, felt like a punch to the gut.

There was a time when Victoria’s smile had lit up Annie’s world more than her V induced abilities ever could, a time when her voice had been the soundtrack to Annie’s best and worst days. But that was before, in a different life, a life Annie had left behind when everything fell apart.

Now, Victoria was a rising star in politics, a name everyone in the country knew. But to Annie, she would always be the girl who had stolen her heart right from its spot in the blonde’s chest.

Hughie led her through the crowd, weaving between groups of suited men and women in cocktail dresses, his hand never leaving hers. Annie’s heart screamed with each step, the anticipation building like a storm on the horizon.

And then she saw her.

Victoria Neuman stood near the centre of the room, her presence commanding without effort, as if the crowd simply bent around her. She was dressed in a sleek cobalt blue suit, her hair styled in soft waves that framed her face perfectly. She hadn’t changed much, she had only become more poised, more confident. The years had refined her into someone who looked every bit as powerful as the position she held.

Annie froze like a deer in headlights, the world narrowing down to the space between her and Victoria. For a moment, it was just the two of them, and everything else faded into the background. The laughter, the clinking glasses, the conversations—none of it registered. All she could see was Victoria.

And then Victoria turned, her eyes scanning the room before landing on Annie. Recognition flickered in those dark eyes, followed by something Annie couldn’t quite name. Surprise? Amusement? A shadow of the old hurt? It was gone before Annie could be sure, replaced by the smooth, practised smile of a politician.

“Victoria,” Hughie’s voice broke the spell, his hand guiding Annie forward with ease. “I’d like you to meet Annie, my—”

“Annie January,” Victoria interrupted, her voice warm but with an undercurrent that only Annie could detect. “Of course. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Annie managed to find her voice, though it felt like a stranger’s. “Congresswoman Neuman” she smiled warmly, a show she had developed over the various interviews and appearances for Vought and at pageants. It was practised and precise. Victoria could definitely see through it though. And if she couldn't see it on Annie's face… she could certainly hear it in her heartbeat.. Although the blonde didn't know that. She had no idea the woman was a supe. Why would she? They were only friends for nearly ten years.

[stinkysam]

Hughie Campbell - Stay out of it.

Warning : nsfw, top!reader, spit as lube, no protection

Genre : smut

Synopsis : “Could you write male reader having sex with hughie to "help him relax"?” -anon

Reader : male (you/yours)

Hughie couldn't sleep. Recently, he's been thinking about the past months with the boys.

Since Robin’s death, his life has been nothing but gore and murder, with an occasional good day thanks to you. And being with the boys made sure death and blood were the only constant to get his revenge. Though at times, he wasn't sure he really wanted it.

He had killed Translucent, was wanted by the government and his dad kept calling him, probably to know why his son's picture was displayed on the news, calling him a terrorist.

His mind was racing, Butcher was gone and the group found itself frozen in place, not really knowing what to do in his absence, so he got up from his shitty bed and left their hiding place, making sure his hood covered his face as he walked into the rainy night.

He walked and walked, his shoes taking in the water through his destroyed soles, socks wet, making footprints on the dry carpet that leads to your apartment's door, and knocked a few times, waiting for you to open.

“Hughie ?” You said quietly, voice hoarse with sleep as you watched him through the peephole before unlocking and slightly opening the door “What are you doing here ?”

He smiled briefly, waiting for you to let him in but you stood your ground, you had seen the news. He stared at you, a bit surprised by the cold demeanor, but that was to be expected. After all, you didn't know.

“You're wanted by the government.” You added.

“I- please, I'll explain everything, but let me in.” He said, tilting his head to the side, removing his hood, hoping you would listen to him. “It's about supes.”

You frowned, confused, before sighing and pushing yourself from the entrance, allowing him in. Hughie thanked you quietly as he walked in, closing behind himself, thanking you again.

“Remember when I told you my ex-girlfriend died ? It wasn't… a natural death.” He started and you looked at him, more confusion blooming in your mind as you sat at the table in your kitchen, trying to understand what Robin's death had to do with supes and him being a terrorist.

He sat in front of you and continued talking, telling you everything from the beginning, Robin’s actual death, meeting Butcher and Frenchie and killing Translucent before meeting M.M and later Kimiko and Starlight, all while being shown how little supes care for human life or how dangerous they are, and mainly how dangerous Homelander is.

You remained still as you listened carefully, slowly understanding all the secrets he had refused to share, the secret phone calls or texts, why he suddenly stopped going to work and what he did when he wasn't with you. Why he always changed the TV’s channel each time there was something about supes ; documentaries, interviews, movies, music videos, ads.

You didn’t know how to react, not expecting anything of this in the slightest. You thought he had killed Robin or something like that, hence why he was wanted by the government. You looked to the side, thinking.

“Are you safe ?” You finally asked, wondering where he stayed.

“Yeah, Frenchie found us a hiding place in the back of some small store. It’s mainly for smuggling but-” He shrugged and smiled. “It’s safe.”

You nodded as the silence fell once more before noticing how dark his clothes were. Fuck, it was raining outside.

“Do you- uh, want to take a shower ? You're soaking wet from the rain.”

Hughie looked down at himself, his clothes were still damp, sticking to his skin. He nodded awkwardly and you stood up, walking to the bathroom.

“Come !” You said, pulling a small and a larger towel from the compartment under the sinks, placing them on the surface next to the bathtub before walking out. He thanked you as you closed the door and he undressed himself before getting in the bathtub and turning the water on.

The water was hot on his skin, a bit too much, he lowered the heat a slightly, rubbing his head with your shampoo.

Hughie sighed, now wondering if it had been the right idea to tell you everything. You could lose your life if you decided to work with him, and knowing you, he knew you would refuse to stay back and watch, preferring to fight for some sort of justice with him.

You knocked at the door.

“I have some clean clothes for you !” You said loudly for him to hear through the sound of the running water.

“Okay, you can come in !” He replied, instinctively hiding his dick as you pushed the door open, quickly putting a small pile of clothes on the closed toilet before walking out, closing behind yourself.

When Hughie walked out with the clothes you gave him, you were laying on your bed, still thinking, slowly digesting the news. You called him, letting him know where you were and he quickly joined you, laying on his stomach, facing you.

“Are you… mad ?” He asked quietly, trying to know what you were thinking.

“No.” You shook your head. “You told me the truth, it's just… a lot.”

“Maybe I shouldn't have told you, it's just- Butcher is God knows where and the team refuses to listen to me, only Annie tries to help me but it's super dangerous for her, Homelander is so close, he could find out and kill her at any moment.” He ranted, and your hand went to his back, rubbing him soothingly.

“Annie ? Starlight ?” You asked, not knowing the supe's real name.

“Yes.”

“Maybe it's a sign for you to stop ?” You tried, not believing in your own words and knowing he would continue anyway.

“A sign ? I thought you didn’t believe in them ?” He said and you shrugged.

“Sometimes I do. When it suits me.” You said with a laugh. He smiled, humming, thinking. “Why did you tell me ? If it's not to look for a way out ?”

“I like you. And I don't want our relationship to have… secrets. I don't want to ruin things because I didn't tell you about this part of my life.”

“But you don't want me to meet the group ? Right ? Too dangerous ?”

“Yes. I want you to know but I don't want you to get hurt or die because you helped us. So I'm asking you this, please, go back to your job tomorrow and live your life normally. I promise I'll try to stay out of trouble.” He said, his hand moving to your face, caressing your cheek. “Though nothing is happening at the moment so saying out of trouble will be easy.”

“So you just want my support, but from a distance.”

“...Yeah. You promise me you'll stay out of this ?”

You sighed, thinking. You couldn't really sit there and let him face danger alone. But he wasn't alone, he had the boys with him. And they knew how to use guns, they knew how to defend themselves. Maybe if Butcher never comes back, the group will slowly dismantle itself and Hughie will stay out of danger ?

“I… can try…” You said, unsure. But Hughie didn't seem to want that for an answer.

“No, I really want you to stay out of it. I can't lose you too-”

“Okay. I promise I'll stay out of it.” You replied. Though you had agreed, you weren't sure if you could live with that choice.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Though he seemed to relax, Hughie was still stressed, still wondering if it was the right thing to do, playing with his fingers as he imagined the worst case scenarios. He was starting to stress you out even more than you already were.

You sat up and scooted closer to him before beginning to rub his back over his shirt.

“I told you, I promise I'll stay out. You have nothing to fear.” You said, your fingers moving up and down his spine, playing with the bumps of his vertebrae. “Nothing will happen.”

You leaned down and kissed his shoulder, your hands rubbing them and massaging his back, hearing him groan while slowly relaxing, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Your hand slid under his shirt, feeling his hot skin on your palms, still a bit moist from the shower, as you continued to massage him. Your fingers tickled lightly his sides as they moved from his shoulder-blades to his hips while you planted kisses on his back, moving his shirt up so your lips could touch his skin, making a trail of kisses on his spine.

You continued like this for a few minutes, Hughie letting out small sighs as you caressed him gently until he slightly moved his hips, resting on his side.

“Something's wrong ?” You asked and Hughie began to stammer, that's when you saw his ‘problem’.

“No. It's uh- There's- I'm… hard.” He said, feeling embarrassed before quickly apologizing. “It's just- it feels really good and-”

“It's fine.” You cut him off, chuckling quietly. “Want to do something about it ?” You asked, moving your hands lower, fingers pulling at his boxers.

Hughie nodded, turning around to lay on his back as he looked at your left hand, now resting on his bulge. You squeezed it lightly, running your hand against him before sliding under his pants, stroking him. He exhaled, his head falling back as he let you touch him, bucking slightly into you, feeling his dick harden more and more, pulsing at your touch.

Your thumb rubbed his tip, playing with the slit, your palm moving up and down on his length. He whined, moving his legs to roll his hips.

With your free hand you pushed his pants away as you continued to jerk him slowly. You moved his legs and put two of your fingers in your mouth, coating them with saliva before teasing his hole. He tensed up a bit before slowly relaxing, allowing you to push a finger inside him.

Hughie groaned, grimacing as your index was fully in, his ass clenching around you and his cock jumping in your hand. You began to move your finger at the same pace you were jerking him, slowly, giving him time to adjust to the sensation. He whined and sighed, nodding at you so you could move faster, you curled your finger inside him, earning a loud moan.

He moaned again when you added a second finger, his legs closing, thighs squeezing your wrist as you continued to caress him, beads of pre-come gliding down his length.

You moved your fingers in and out of him, curling them against his sweet spot each time, ripping pretty moan after pretty moan. He opened his legs again, bucking into your hand, wanting more.

You pulled your fingers out of him, making him whine and pushed your pants down before jerking yourself a couple times, sighing and aligning yourself between his legs, your tip pushing against his hole before slowly entering him. Hughie hissed, you felt him clench around you as you leaned down to pepper his face with kisses, helping him relax as you bottomed out.

After a bit you began to thrust into him, kissing his jaw and neck as he wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close. He moaned your name quietly, cursing under his breath each time you pushed yourself in, your tip hitting deep inside him.

You wrapped a hand around his dick, jerking him, thumb playing with his tip, rubbing his frenulum and corona of glans, more pre pooling out, slowly gathering on your hand.

Hughie rolled his hips, trying to fuck your hand while you fastened the pace, your body slapping against him.

“I'm close-” He moaned, eyes closed in pleasure as you continued hitting his prostate. You hummed, pulling him into a kiss as his mouth opened abruptly to let another moan out as he came, ropes cum spurting on his stomach and your hand.

His ass clenched tightly around you, allowing you to come inside him, your hips stuttering a bit before slowing down and stopping.

Hughie sighed, catching his breath as you did the same and pulled out, walking out of the room to grab a washcloth to clean him.

He watched as you wiped his stomach and his ass before throwing it in the basket of dirty laundry, laying down next to him once more.

Your hand landed on his chest, caressing him softly as he smiled at you before moving closer, wrapping his arms around you.

You kissed him, pulling away to turn off the light and went back into his arms, content. As you fell asleep you remembered your discussion, feeling still torn with your decision to not interfere. You don't know how long you'll be able to keep your promise.

[jnkgrnde]

☆ unforgettable, m.m

pairings: e!1610 miles morales x black!reader

summary: miles morales has had a crush on you for a fair amount of time, even before he adorned the mask. he finds you unforgettable, having countless moments with you that leave you both flustered by the end of the day.

warnings: none

a/n: trying my hand at writing atsv fics since all the ones i read r so good 🙏🏾

“morales!” miles snapped his head towards the sound of his last name being called, just to have a smile grace his lips when he sees it was you.

“hey!” he greets. it was a school day, a friday to be specific, and it was a day where everyone would go home for the weekend to relax before eventually having to return to brooklyn visions. “whatcha doin’ later?” you asked, jogging up to him. lip gloss covered your lips, a stick of gum in your mouth that was slowly losing flavor.

miles tried, horribly, to admire you discreetly. you were just so pretty, so bubbly that you were just what he needed; a breath of fresh air in his otherwise hectic life. “packing and heading back home for the weekend later, why?” he asked.

see, about 99% of the time you asked that question, you had something insane you wanted to do in mind and always dragged the boy with you. was he terrified to do those things? yes, but it was you, so that made up for it.

“nothinggg,” dragging out the ‘g’, “except i found this really cool spot i wanted to check out with you! it’s a little high up, but it has a great view of the city, especially at night!”

it didn’t seem like a bad idea. at the time.

he didn’t think much of it. matter of fact, he wanted to use this opportunity.

“what time?” he asked. “sun sets at around eight, so how about eight? i can drop by your place to see mama morales, too.” miles chuckled at the nickname. he knew how much his mom adored you, as you did her.

“it’s a date.” he said without thinking. he stopped when he realized what he said. “no, no- i mean it’s a uh-“ “you wanna take me on a date, morales?” you asked him.

he stood flustered, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. “i’m jus’ messing with you, miles.” you punched his arm while giggling. “see you tonight for our ‘date’!” and off you went before he could get another word out.

a date, miles thought.

right on the dot, at eight p.m., you rang the doorbell to the morales residence. after a couple seconds, rio morales stood with the door open, a soft smile on her face. “hi, mrs. morales.” you greeted while going to hug her. “hi, my love! how have you been?” she invited you in to relax while you waited on miles. she asked you a ton of questions, eventually leading up to asking when you and miles would get together.

“get.. together?” you chuckled. your face flushed with embarrassment. “yeah! he talks about you nonstop, all about your hangouts and everything.” as if he was listening, and there was a chance he was, miles stepped out of his room, ready to go.

“ready?” he asked. rio just snickered quietly while you stood up, hand in your pockets. “yup!” “you kids have fun!” rio called after. “see you, mrs. morales!” you shot her a smile. “later, mamí!”

walking in time, you and miles admired the city. it was starting to get dark, shops starting to close up. “you wanna stop by benny’s?” he asked. “are you gonna pay? ‘cause i payed last time.” miles groaned jokingly before you punched his shoulder, ending with him laughing.

“fine, fine, i’ll pay.” you skipped along the streets of brooklyn, basically playing 20 questions with miles while you made your way to the convenience store.

the bell rung when miles held the door open for you, you thanking him generously. “hey, benny!” you greeted while making a b-line for the candy section. “hey, lovebirds.” he greeted back. ‘what was it with everyone pointing that out all of a sudden?’ you wondered. rio, benny, people in your class even.

“you still got those beef patties, man?” miles asked, walking up to the counter. they conversed while miles heated up the food while you browsed the section for your favorite, grabbing it, and letting your feet take you to the drinks section.

“hey, miles, what do you want to drink?” you yelled out. “grab me a soda!” he responded. he hummed a tuneless tune before being interrupted by benny. “so, when are you taking the girl on a date?” he questioned. “what?” “[name]? when are you asking her out, son?” benny chuckled at miles’ ‘obliviousness’.

“no, no, we’re just friends, man. i don’t think she even likes me like that.” miles responded. “sure, miles.” miles furrowed his eyebrows at this. “hey, got the stuff. you ready?” miles turned to look at you holding the snacks. “uh, yup!” miles took out some money while you sat the food on the counter for benny to ring them up.

“6.73.” miles paid the respective amount while you grabbed the bag. “see ya, benny!” the man waved while miles waited for you, holding the door open once again.

laughter filled the night, the sound coming from the rooftop you and miles were currently perched on. he was telling you different pick up lines, corny ones at that. “so- so you’d think you’d genuinely pick up a girl with those?” “i mean, they’re making you laugh aren’t they?”

miles had no idea where this newfound confidence was coming from, but he was trying to tone it down.

“that’s ‘cause they’re corny.” you told him, sighing before relaxing again.

you were so pretty without even trying, it hurt.

miles let his eyes linger on your face, the lights of brooklyn shining a light on you. he looked back, admiring the view. “how’d you even find this place anyways?” he asked. his beef patty was long gone, his soda replacing it. you threw a piece of candy in your mouth before answering. “got bored after i finished homework early. wanted to see what ‘hidden gems’ i could find.” miles hummed in understanding.

it was silent for a moment before you asked a question. “have.. people been.. bugging you about something?” miles snapped his head towards you. “like, uh, like what?”

he knew exactly what you were talking about.

“like, for instance..” you blew air from your lips, “i don’t know.. when you’re gonna get together with a certain person.” you looked up at him. miles laughed nervously. “well, n- no, but if i was, why are you asking?”

you knew he was lying. miles was a terrible liar and you knew it.

“no reason, jus’ wondering.” you mumbled. it was awkward now. “who’s the, uh, who’s the person they’re asking about?” “ah, you don’t need to worry about that. i’m sure they’ll let up soon.”

it was quiet before you eventually resumed talking.

and then miles came up with a stupid idea.

he didn’t say anything, instead getting up on the ledge. “what are you doing?” you asked. you started getting nervous. you were pretty high up, and you couldn’t afford to let the boy fall.

“come on. i’ll catch you if you fall.” you bit your lip, trying to decide.

you sighed, “better stay true to that, morales.” miles grinned wide before helping you up. miles could already see the panic in your eyes. “i got you, don’t worry.” he reassured. he didn’t really realize he had a hand kept on your waist, a tight grip accompanying it. you cleared your throat, face burning. “what are we doing up here?”

miles just shrugged his shoulders. “dunno. just wanted to be up here.” you smiled a bit at his reply. you looked around before making the mistake of looking down. your eyes widened before you clung onto miles. he froze, his eyes the shapes of saucers.

“oh my god- can we get down now? please?” “i- uh- yeah, yeah.”

you made it down from the rooftop when you saw it was starting to get late and it was time for miles to drop you off. it wasn’t too far only a couple minutes away. you stood outside the entrance to the apartment complex.

“so, i’ll see you again this weekend?” you asked. you really hoped you did. “i’ll make sure of it.” he shot you a blinding smile. “alright. goodnight miles.” you chuckled, sending him a soft smile before leaving to go up the stairs to your apartment.

that night, miles left smiling wide and thinking about you the whole way home.

[rebornologist]

♡ Misc. Kokuyo Gang Headcanons ✧

Ken is averse to showers for multiple reasons, but one of them is because his body has adjusted to a very... sparse shower routine. Anything heavily scented irritates his nose, and many soaps will even give him rashes. He would rather die than to admit that he can only stand using unscented baby soap.

He sleeps better with something pressed against him, like a wall to his back, while hugging a pillow, or with his face in the crevice of the couch. It might stem from him growing up sleeping in crowded accommodations… he would love one of those human-sized dog beds.

୨୧ ⁺˳₊ ♡ ₊˳⁺ ୨୧

Chikusa built his own signature weapons, and his hands are rather dexterous. Just think about all the yo-yo tricks he is capable of. He doesn’t enjoy using computers at all, the digital screen and blue light actually hurts his eyes, but his typing speed would be impressive if he had to use a keyboard. He learned to touch type fairly quickly and has good hand-eye coordination.

He enjoys working with rubik’s cubes and has gotten really good at it. He has red-green colourblindness, and he really didn’t like asking people for the difference between “this shade and that shade” when it came to the cheap cubes with stickers and paint that would chip and peel off. One day, he will get himself a nice colorblind-friendly cube, but he hates splurging so he just copes for now.

୨୧ ⁺˳₊ ♡ ₊˳⁺ ୨୧

M.M. is quite extroverted and loves to pick people’s brains. She especially loves dressing up in her best outfits to go to jazz bars and gather all sorts of intel (and coins) from the patrons there. It has a mix of her favourite things: dancing, a classy atmosphere, rich people that she can chat up to charm their wallets open, and she occasionally actually plays her clarinet for people.

She doesn’t like the way that Fran speaks French and finds his regional accent atrocious. To that, he speaks French just to annoy her, even when she replies in Italian or Japanese as a way to say “that’s enough, please use literally any other language that we both know please.”

୨୧ ⁺˳₊ ♡ ₊˳⁺ ୨୧

Chrome has befriended the local stray cat colony and a murder of crows. They all leave little gifts on the doorstep for her, ranging from small coins to dead mice. She gets more than a little flustered at the latter but understands that it’s just in their nature.

She is not an adventurous eater and has her safe foods that she will turn to just to curb her hunger. She used to run purely on being in survival mode but has since learned to keep snacks in her bag just in case. The few things that she does make for herself, she has gotten really good at.

୨୧ ⁺˳₊ ♡ ₊˳⁺ ୨୧

Fran tends to zone out, and usually no one can tell because his face looks exactly the same as when he’s completely present and aware of the current moment. The only way you can tell is that sometimes, at the end of a mission debrief, his eyebrows raise slightly, and that’s him realizing that he absolutely wasn’t listening and has no idea what they’re doing now.

When it comes to social deduction games, he’s the best one out of the gang. Mukuro used to be the reigning champion of Kokuyo gang board game nights, until Fran came along.

୨୧ ⁺˳₊ ♡ ₊˳⁺ ୨୧

Mukuro enjoys browsing vintage and oddity stores and collecting unique jewelry. He has pieces that incorporate teeth, bones, furs, and hides of various animals.

He’s fairly adventurous in almost every aspect of the human experience and is open to trying any food at least once (granted it doesn't.. kill him, but he’d probably find a way to come back from it anyway), trying different crafts, and consuming different media. However, he’s learned that he doesn’t particularly enjoy most craft-related hobbies, and rarely has the free time to read or watch anything to the end unless it’s fairly short (but he would tear through a good book if given some leisure time).

୨୧ ⁺˳₊ ♡ ₊˳⁺ ୨୧

Chrome, Fran, and Mukuro all run cold. They’re the ones always turning the heat up in their shared spaces, while Ken, Chikusa, and M.M. complain about it being too hot and to mind the energy bill.

[happyprincesscycle]

Grump and Pupp series:

Butcher'ed Mission (see what I did there 😏 lol)

Characters: Billy Butcher, reader, M.M, Frenchie, Hughie

Summary: You and The Boys were on a mission, and despite your well intentions, you ended up causing trouble for them 🫠

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

The Boys were on a mission, involving dangerous people (as per usual), and a lot of things that could go wrong. So Butcher had one clear instruction for you: stay out of the way!

You tried, you really did. But with all the excitement, secrecy, and, let’s face it, a bit of impatience, staying out of the way was easier said than done.

The team had infiltrated a heavily guarded warehouse where Vought was rumored to be storing something very valuable. The plan was simple: get in, find the goods, and get out without drawing too much attention. Simple, that is, until you got involved.

The Boys were moving stealthily through the dark corridors, Butcher leading the way with Hughie, Frenchie, and M.M. close behind. You, however, were at the back, bouncing with barely contained energy.

"Oi, remember what I said, y/n," Butcher whispered over his shoulder, his voice low but laced with authority. "No messin’ about. We’re in and out, quiet as a mouse."You nodded vigorously.

“Got it. Quiet as a mouse.” you said as you mimed to zipping your lips shut.

That was the plan, really, but as the group crept closer to the main storage area, you couldn’t help but feel the urge to contribute. I mean, sure, you weren’t exactly a trained agent, but you had started training with Billy since he had figured if you were gonna stick to him like a gum under the shoe so he might’ve as well taught you a few things to protect yourself, you had learned a few tricks, you could be useful, right?

The moment came when the team reached a locked door. Frenchie was about to pull out his tools to pick the lock when you suddenly piped up.

“Hey, I bet I can open that!” you said, way too loud for Butcher’s liking.

Frenchie paused, tools in hand, and turned to you, one eyebrow raised. “You know how to pick locks?”

“Well, no… but I’ve seen it done in movies! How difficult can it be?”

Butcher’s patience snapped. “Just leave it to the professionals, eh?”

But before he could stop you, you pulled out a booby pin off your hair and shoved it into the lock. It didn’t go well.

The bobby pin got stuck, and you fumbled with it, making more noise than anyone on a secret mission should make.

“Bugger me sideways…” Butcher muttered under his breath as M.M. rubbed his temples in frustration.

Just then, an alarm blared through the warehouse, red lights flashing down the hallway.

“What the hell did you do?” M.M. shouted over the wailing siren.

“I don’t know!” you shouted back, panic setting in. “Maybe the bobby pin triggered something?”

“No time for this! We’ve got to move!” Butcher barked, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you along as the team sprinted down the corridor.

The Boys scattered, trying to find an alternate route to the goods while dodging security guards that were now flooding the warehouse.

You tried to keep up, but your nerves were all over the place.As the team took cover behind some crates, trying to regroup, you peeked out to see what was happening.

“Butcher, I think I saw a way out through—” you started, but Butcher cut you off.

“Enough with the bloody thinkin’! You’ve done more than enough!” Butcher snapped, his usual gruffness now tinged with real anger. “Do us all a favor and keep yer gob shut before you get us all killed!”

You winced, feeling guilty and a bit hurt, but you knew he was right. You’d messed up. Big time.

The Boys were in a tight spot now, with guards closing in. Butcher was trying to figure out a way to salvage the mission when you spotted something—a lever on the wall labeled "Emergency Ventilation Release." Without thinking, you bolted out from behind the crate and pulled it.

“No, wait—” Hughie tried to stop you, but it was too late.A massive gust of air blasted through the warehouse as huge vents in the ceiling opened, releasing a thick cloud of smoke. It filled the room in seconds, obscuring everyone’s vision.

You coughed, stumbling back as the smoke poured out, but then realized something: the smoke was actually giving them cover.

Butcher noticed it too. He grabbed your arm again, this time with a bit less anger. “Move! Now!”

Using the smoke as a distraction, the team dashed through the chaos, evading the guards who were now coughing and disoriented. They made it to the storage room, where they found the goods and got out, all thanks to your unintentional blunder.

Once outside, the team caught their breath, safe for now. Butcher turned to you, his face a mix of relief and annoyance.

“Bloody hell, y/n. You nearly cocked it all up… but you might’ve actually saved our arses.”

You grinned sheepishly. “So… does that mean I did good?”Butcher stared at you, then shook his head with a begrudging smirk. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. You’re still a pain in the arse.”

Frenchie chuckled, patting you on the back. “You have a certain… chaotic charm, mon ami. But next time, let’s stick to the plan, oui?”

“Yeah, I think we’ve had enough surprises for one night.” Hughie added, still catching his breath.

You beamed, feeling a little more confident now. “Got it. No more surprises… unless they’re the good kind!”

Butcher let out a tired sigh. "For fuck's sake, give me strength, will ya?" Butcher muttered defeated, looking up at the sky.