#People relate to different characters and it’s ok

[d3sertdream3r]

Just a reminder that relating to characters is perfectly normal! There’s a reason human beings have been endlessly telling stories for thousands of years, and why a lot of those stories are still told today.

In fact, there’s even a thing called Cinema Therapy where professional therapists work through movie plots and character arcs with their patients to help them process their real life trauma.

This is why representation of all kinds is so essential in storytelling! Whether it’s representation of race, culture, gender identity, sexuality, or forms of trauma, seeing ourselves in characters is a powerful way to heal and explore our psyche.

Don’t pay attention to anyone who is childish enough to mock you for being protective over characters that make you feel seen and understood! Be loud and proud about stories and characters that you love! 😁

[what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque]

Ok I know I'm heavily biased here but like I kinda love that Astarion's romance is one of the few in this type of video game where you basically end up canonically unmarried and childfree in his "good" ending? Just travelling the world??

Like it's honestly the millennial dream lmfaoo cannot believe i chose what would undoubtedly be my favorite option, first try

[xxplastic-cubexx]

i'd like to address the allegations that Charles is a dummy for cutting about in a METAL wheelchair when his nemesis is MAGNETO. Yes, Erik can at any time yeet Charles around by the chair. He also knows that as soon as he touches the chair, he has lost. As soon as he even THINKS about grabbing the chair in anything but a life or death situation, he puts himself in timeout in the south pole.

charles may be a dummy for putting faith in magneto Not to be a menace and yet its the trust he has in erik not to do him harm despite how easy it'd be ..... power move if you think about it ....

[radioroxx]

hmmmm mal du pays thoughts tonight

[ghost-bard]

Hiyaaa my FHsona’s silly outfits, inspired by @cloudmancy giving his fhsona fun fits!

Image I.D. in alt text!

Fun fact, the pants in the adventuring fit are just. another pair of sweatpants, but slightly modified. comfort trumps everything lets gooo, more fun facts under the cut as per the usual!

Lets seeee some fun info about him because idk its fun

the name rain is from my usn on every other social except for tumblr (and ao3 but i dont think that counts-), and they use any (and all) pronouns :]]]]

they do community service after certain school days and on the weekends

i imagine they're part of some sort of gaming club

very chill person, although they are a bit antisocial

and she's usually found playing on their switch

all in all, wow she just like me fr (but literally)

anyway, what if, teehee, i got sent some fhsonas... to maybe draw with my lil guy... and they interacted... wouldnt that be crazy... just kidding haha... unless-

[jitteryjive]

i need to remake my cup bros ref… both cup and human designs… it’s been almost a year(?) and i’ve developed the headcanons and i would like to share with the class!!! (i wrote thirty tags. Please help me)

[cirilya]

Why do i always relate to anyhow repressed male characters. I'm just a teenage bisexual girl but clive durham i get you on a spiritual level pls never forget that.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

I do think it could be potentially telling in more than one way that Holly, who is consistently shown to be the calmest, most centered of the team, is described as frantic when Kipps is stabbed.

[battlecriesandroses]

so yesterday i experienced my first fictional crush and it’s been downhill from there

[gloopdimension]

ages ago on my main i got an ask telling me i should stop giving so many characters sex work swag bc i was making light of the struggle sex workers go through when they work. or something.j

[snekdood]

listen, all im sayin is its pretty funny to me when the same person whos all like "my uwu baby!!!" toward a serial killer in some show also apparently lacks empathy when people who've done far less shit just simply exist and they dont want them to

how do you fail to extend empathy to actual humans but its so easy for you to do with this guy that if he was real would be entirely irredeemable in every capacity?

[everysongineverykey]

ok alphys was a character ahead of her time and too good for this damn fandom honestly. she isn't some evil gaslighting lying cringey manipulator who only exists as comic relief for the love of god look at her with eyes less poisoned by cynicism and irony. she is a love letter to... well, a lot of things. a love letter to "cringey" people, to video game fans, to people who try to drown their sadness in fiction. she's so achingly relatable to so many of us that it really feels like toby knows his demographic like the back of his hand. we've all met someone like alphys. maybe we are that someone- awkward, nerdy, can't get over their past mistakes, terrible at phone calls, far more eloquent online than in person, only wants to make people like them to distract them from the fact that they don't like themself. normally, this character archetype is the butt of a great deal of jokes- just a gross nerd who needs to touch grass. but alphys is different. she is, as i said, a love letter. she is one of the best-developed and most complex characters in the game. her nerdiness isn't "fixed" or mocked, it's celebrated. her unabashed love for her interests and her 100% attitude is a big reason why undyne loves her. games, especially in 2015 and before, are not often so genuinely kind to characters like alphys! and in deltarune, too- alphys is still a nerd, despite not being nearly as traumatized as her undertale counterpart. her rambling about shows she loves is a constant across all universes, a fundamental and important and good part of who she is.

and i just think that's very kind, and very important.

[jezabelle9299]

Broken Lungs S.R x FEM!Reader

CWs- Spoilers for season 5, depictions of asthma and use of a nebulizer, mentions of gunshot wounds, and health insurance not covering necessary medication.

Quick Infodump- Oxygen saturation levels should be 95-100%, lower than 93% should seek immediate help from a healthcare professional, and lower than 85% can cause severe damage to the brain because of a lack of oxygen.

Overture: Spencer is recovering from the knee surgery he needed after being shot in the field, when he sees a familiar face in the hospital being treated for an asthma attack.

A/N- This is based on my own experience with asthma, but it's different for everyone, so the relatability may vary with this one. But I was stuck at home all day because of an air quality alert so I did this instead of getting ready for the semester that starts in two weeks.

After one of his worst days in the field, Spencer ended the day in a hospital bed unable to walk. Hotch had been stabbed, and he had been shot. Both would be ok, and they were in separate hospitals to recover. The team alternated who would come to visit, and when. It usually took until the nurses kicked them out at the end of visiting hours, for them to actually leave. 

It’d been 2 days since his surgery, and the nurses had given him permission to walk around with his brace, on crutches. He’d never used them before, so he walked around the floor to the nurses’ station to get some more jell-o, and then around the hall back to his room. He allowed his curiosity (or nosiness) to get the better of him, occasionally glancing in at the people with their doors open, giving them a small smile or wave. Until he saw a familiar face. 

You’d worked for the FBI for a few years, working on the same floor as the BAU, but you weren’t in the field. You were sitting up in a hospital bed, playing solitaire in one hand, holding what looked like an oxygen mask to your face with the other. You looked up when you felt his eyes on you, and there he was, trapped in the doorway. You’d think you were hallucinating if not for the brace on his knee, and the crutches he was propping himself up on. He didn’t move from the threshold until you gave him a small wave, jumpstarting his movement into your room. 

You’d heard about Hotch’s incident, but you weren’t in the office yesterday, and since Spencer’s injury happened later in the day, you had no idea why he was here. You pulled the mask spraying (terrible tasting) medicine into your lungs from your face. You could stop for 30 seconds to see what he was here for. 

“Hey Spencer, what–um, what brings you here?” He hesitated, because you’d know since the 5th floor of the FBI building was the most gossip-ridden place he’d seen since high school. Yet he had no idea you’d be here. It’s not even as if you never talked, whenever he was in the office he’d stop by your desk to talk to you. He figured that you hadn’t gotten tired of him yet because he was gone a lot, although in reality you’d never tire of hearing his voice.

“I got shot in the knee, I’ll be fine, the real question is why are you here?” You’re sure it’s on government record, something Garcia could find in two minutes if she looked, but you still didn’t like talking about it. You knew it was stupid to be embarrassed of it, but you couldn’t help it. Every time it got brought up, you felt like the dorky character in a movie carting around their inhaler all the time, the butt of some cosmic joke. 

You preferred to think of it as an inconvenience more than anything. It didn’t come up often because you weren’t in the field, and when you needed to use an inhaler, you measured your breathing long enough to get to an empty bathroom or supply closet. You’d just blame the jitters that came after on too much coffee, and no one would ask any questions. This time, the inhaler wasn’t working, the next step in medication, a small machine similar to what you were supposed to be hooked up to now, wasn’t working either. So you drove to the ER feeling like you’d just run 10 miles, and they were making you stay 36 hours to give you stronger medication in intervals. 

“No reason.” You didn’t know why you even bothered with that response. Neither did Spencer, tossing you an apathetic look. He knew how squeamish you got when attention was drawn to something that made you look vulnerable, which is why he let it slide every time you walked into a supply closet looking flushed and panicked, with a soundtrack accompanying every time you took a breath, only to come out 5 minutes later with no supplies. 

 “Ok, really? Why would you even try it, you’re hooked up to a nebulizer and your oxygen saturation is at 90. What happened?” He was using the tone he only ever broke out for interrogations and proving Morgan wrong, but you still wanted to minimize the attention drawn to this not so glamorous piece of your life. You wanted Spencer to see you as someone he could date, even someone he could love, so this was not ideal to the image you’d been trying to show at work. 

“I have gross broken lungs. It’s really no big deal.” He laughed, but there was minimal humor behind it. Like he couldn’t even fathom you thinking this was ‘no big deal’. 

“I would venture to say you being in the hospital because you were unable to breathe is a very big deal.” While you loved when Spencer got a little bit cocky, you decided it would be more fun to make the little vein in his forehead appear again. So you tossed a vague shrug.

“Well I’d say getting shot is a much bigger deal. So why don’t you sit down, eat your jello, and tell me what happened to you, while I finish this thing.” He couldn’t argue with that, because at the very least he wanted you to feel better and the medicine currently going to waste while you were talking was the only way to accomplish that, so he relented. 

He didn’t want to move your things to the floor, but they were occupying the only chair in the room, so he made himself comfortable at the foot of your bed. He always wanted to be closer to you anyway. Setting his crutches next to him and opening the small cup of jello he’d somehow been holding this whole time, he reiterated his answer from before. 

“I told you already, I got shot in the knee, went into surgery, and now other than having to use these crutches for a while, I’m fine. Just need to spend a little longer in recovery before I can go back home to minimize the risk of infection.” He took a bite of jell-o just as a show of finality, like there was nothing more to say. Like a gunshot wound was not a huge deal. 

The whirr of the machine started to slow down, the medicine sputtering instead of coming out in a steady steam, meaning you could finally be done. You set it on the table by the bed, right next to your abandoned game of solitaire, and as soon as you set it down Spencer’s attention was back on your wellbeing. 

“Ok your turn, what happened?” 

“I’ve had asthma since I was a kid, and I just got unlucky today. It’s always worse this time of year, and my inhaler wasn’t really doing anything for me. Our health insurance plan doesn’t cover the more expensive meds unless I’m in the hospital, so here I am, for the next 36 hours.” You made a point to turn your exasperated expression into a cheesy smile, hoping to convince him to stay for just a little while longer.  “But the bright side is that since you're here I don’t have to play solitaire anymore. That was getting old fast.” You grabbed the cards, giving them a quick shuffle.

“So what do you say Vegas, are you up for a round of poker?” You hoped that would distract him from fussing over you, and luckily it did. He was satisfied you were ok, and the last thing he wanted was to push you too far, and for you to ask him to leave. So he let the smile take over his face. 

“Always. But i'm not going to go easy on you just because of your- what did you call them- broken lungs?” That got a good laugh out of you. Admittedly wheezy, but still one of the most beautiful sounds in the world to him. 

“Gross, broken lungs. And I wouldn’t dream of it.” You dealt the cards, already knowing you’d lose. You didn’t even know how to play poker. But word around the office was that most of your coworkers wouldn’t play with him since he always won. But you didn’t mind, you mostly just wanted someone to hang out with, and you were overjoyed that person was Spencer. He won, of course. Only gloating a little bit at how badly he beat you, and while you were dealing the second round of cards, you couldn’t help but vocalize what had been in the back of your mind for a few minutes now. 

“Hey Spencer, could I ask you a favor?” He had a mix of worry and willingness to help all over his face. 

“Anything.”

“Could you–not tell anyone in the office? Just. You know how they are, they would make a fuss about the whole hospital thing and it’s just not necessary.” 

“Where do they think you’re going to be for the next day and a half?”

You looked down like a kid who just got caught in a lie. “I kind of told Hotch I had a cold.” Spencer just sighed in response. 

“I really do think you should let them fuss over you. You deserve it, and you know Penelope lives for that sort of thing.” That you couldn’t deny, no matter how much you disagreed with him saying you deserved to be cared for. 

“Please, Spencer?” 

“Alright, but they might walk past your room in the morning. Garcia said she was coming, and you know she’ll drag at least one person along with her.” 

“Noted. I’ll close the door in the morning. Thank you Spencer, seriously, it means a lot.” You put your hand over his and it felt like every thought he’d ever had was gone from his brain at your touch. He couldn’t believe his dumb luck at meeting someone like you. Just to be in your orbit, to see and know you, felt like it could only be accomplished by divine intervention. Selfishly, he wished that you’d be staying a little longer, so that you could both leave together. Even more selfishly, he wished that you would leave with him, and come to his apartment. There he could take care of you, make you feel special until he could finally convince you that you deserved it. Deserved everything. 

You moved your hand to start tapping it on your leg, and while Spencer knew the side effects of respiratory steroids, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something was wrong. That maybe he did something wrong. 

“Is there something on your mind?” 

“No, it’s just the jitters. I used to get them so bad when I was a kid, my parents would have to practically hold me down. It’s like I have the energy to run a mile, but I can’t actually do it. I’ll calm down in a bit, but I’m probably going to get really rambly first.” 

“I’d love to listen to you talk, and I love being on the other side of a ramble.” It was just then that a nurse came in to ask if you were feeling better, charting your vials,  reminding you that you need to take your next dose in 4 hours, and telling you that an orderly would be in to set it up then.

Just when she was getting ready to leave she turned her attention to Spencer. “I’m sorry, but I am going to need you to go back to your room Dr. Reid. You both need to get some rest.”

He reluctantly told her that he would and just as soon as he’d come in, he disappeared again. He gave you a wave when he was gathering his crutches, but no real goodbye. You of course waved back, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. You really liked him, and you thought maybe he really liked you too. And yet, he only gave you a wave. 

All of the adrenaline moving through you, getting you all worked up finally won out, and stupid as it may sound, tears started to prick the corners of your eyes. Just as you closed the door to your room to get some privacy while you cried, your phone started to ring, and you couldn’t help but think; What now? You answered it without looking, and on the other side of the line was the person you wanted to hear from the most. 

“So what did you want to talk about? I have all the time in the world.”

[oh-no-its-bird]

Team 7 gets zapped into the warring states era but it's like, team 7 either mid or directly after wave-arc.

They're babies!! They're untrained little babies!!! None of them have gotten that good good character development yet!! Kakashi is still actively desperately wanting to not teach them!! (tho he may have just gotten his "ahh fuck. I actually have to teach them, huh." Moment)

Sasuke looks like a carbon copy of a younger Izuna and it's going to cause problems

Naruto thankfully doesn't look much like an Uzumaki, but his tendency to very loudly introduce himself is going to get him into trouble

Going w my usual flavor of "the Hatake are a very small but very famous clan known for being fucking insane", people are seeing Kakashi and going "oh god oh fuck what are one of THOSE guys doing here oh sage preserve us please don't eat me" as Kakashi just kinda stands there like 🧍‍♂️

Sakura is the only one safe from not being fucked up and over her clan, good for her!

-> back to the Hatake thing.

The kids still know virtually nothing about their sensei so they're learning all this stuff about his clan and believing every word of it, from the believable rumors to the insane.

Sakura, in a hushed, worried voice: "Sensei,, is it true ur clan eats people??"

Kakashi, who's father died before he could tell him almost anything about their clan and genuinely doesn't know but at this point is starting to get a little worried about it:

Kakashi, who also never passes up the opportunity to fuck with someone: "only stupid little students who ask stupid little questions <3"

Sakura and Sasuke: *worriedly look at a confused Naruto*

For convoluted reasons they run into the Hatake of the era and after introductions they look at the kids and are like,

"Oh!!! Ok, so this is your kid, right? :)" pointing at Sakura.

And Kakashi is like. ",,no."

"Ohhh, ok. So this one is your kid then?" *points at Naruto*

",,,,,,,,no."

They look at him confused then nod at Sasuke. "So then that one's your kid, right?"

"None of them are my children."

*visibly disapproving / disbelieving side eye*

One big difference between this and the team ro time travel one is how much less trustworthy Kakashi comes off to literally everyone who looks at him.

He's a trained adult shinobi, probable bloodline thief (with no way to prove his innocence), and he has 3 children from 3 different clans (2 of which are indirectly enemies bc the Uzumaki is a Senju ally) (1 of which might have a direct relation to the Uchiha main house) and comes from an infamously volatile "wild clan" from another country entirely (Iron country)

He is NOT getting out of this with talk no jutsu bullshit. He has a target on his back from day 1 and it will take a minor miracle to get even a single person hear him out

Anyways uhh—

Saying Tajima and Butsuma are still alive but due to die in some months (till team 7 accidentally interfere and somehow accidentally save Tajima, maybe also Butsuma but I'm more biased towards Tajima so I'm thinking just him actually)

Kakashi sees baby Kagami and feels like he's been hit by a truck bc he looks just like a miniature Shisui and he has hang-ups about his "suicide"

Half-Hatake Tobirama is catching HEAT from Kakashi's antics. Why does one of ur cousins have a sharingan. Where did he get those children. Do you know anything about this. Is it your duty to help hunt him down bc hes your blood. If not yours then it's definatley the Hatake's, call them immediately and tell them to clean up their mess.

Bloodline theft is like THE ultimate no-no for all shinobi, especially in this era. To the point that even ancient enemies will sometimes temporarily set aside grudges to kill bloodline theives. Kakashi is so fucked, someone get him out of there

Mmmm there are like still bits and pieces of thoughts floating around in my head for this but I can feel myself getting distracted and want to get back to art fight so I'll leave it here for now

[mad-hunts]

both matilda and barton were keenly aware that joker was watching them like a hawk. so, although she was tempted to pull away from him, his daughter decided she had just one more thing to do. matilda very subtly tilted her head in such a way that their 'unwelcome guest' wouldn't be able to tell that she was very quietly whispering to him; and at such an audio that even barton barely heard it, in fact. but the important thing was that he'd caught it for she had told him something in code that meant 'just say the word' in relation to joker. it didn't exactly take a rocket scientist to figure out that there wasn't something quite right with their new comedian friend, barton thought.

and how ironic that was for him to think, because unbeknowst to him, arthur was talking about how weird he was acting with what could potentially be one big thorn in his side: the batman. a sigh came from him as the only thing he could think about right now was that the unruly golden ringlets atop his head were going to get so poofy because of the rain. it only appeared to be getting worse and one way this was illustrated was by how the light teal of the also almost doll-like dress matilda wore was becoming a darker hue of teal, which was kind of bad news for her, as it wasn't a cheap dress. it was made out of satin. but between holding onto barton a little longer to maintain the façade that she was upset, or pulling away early and thus breaking the illusion, she chose the first option.

by this time, barton was fully hugging matilda back and looked down at the ground, trying to just listen to her to see if any of this distress could be genuine or whether it was all an act. he maneuvered a hand up to cradle her head then with a shocking amount of gentleness. barton didn't let his guard down, though, as the image of joker's service animal in the corner of his eye reminded him that he wanted something from them. he didn't know what, but if it wasn't obvious before, then it was now. ❝ hey... you're acting like something seriously bad happened, lovebug. you've got to tell me what's going on, ❞ matilda finally pulled away from barton and she covered up both sides of her face at first, before rubbing her hands down it.

matilda silently listened to joker for a moment. no one's threatened you... well, that was pretty untrue, actually. she had one hell of a shiner around her left eye. ❝ honestly, from my friends leaving me stranded in there and ending up with this from some jackass who wouldn't leave me alone, i guess you could just say that i'm... really glad to be out of there. i mean, i tried to leave as soon as you texted me earlier, but this guy stopped me on the way out. i think he must've been as drunk as a skunk or something because he accused me of stealing from him, which i obviously didn't do, ❞ barton knew that that whole story was probably a lie, but he did know that he wanted to kill whoever hit his daughter; no matter what circumstances they were under.

barton was basically seething with anger when he saw the bruise around matilda's eye. ❝ oh? so, you're telling me someone hit you, in there? what'd he look like? and before you say anything, i just want to talk to him, ❞ that was a lie if matilda had ever heard one. she chuckled in feigned surprise at that, raising both of her eyebrows at once. ❝ oh my god... dad. i took care of it, so you don't need to do anything. in fact, please don't. he can get really scary when he's mad, ❞ matilda directed this comment towards arthur before she finally noticed the small puncture wound on his palm. from there, she forcefully took his hand and she barely looked up at him to say, ❝ it seems like you have a big family. what's that like? is it as chaotic as it sounds, or it is nice? ❞ she offered him a small smile. ❝ eh, well, you know that saying ' packed like a can of sardines? ' it's pretty much like that. mm, the dancers up on stage tonight were good, i'll give them that. ❞

matilda was lying through her teeth about the dancers. but the less that arthur knew, the better. his daughter finally opened up the umbrella that had been loaned to her by barton and gestured towards the other to take it. ❝ your makeup's running, so you can go ahead and borrow this, if you want. as for the drops — sadly, yes. the drug problem here just keeps on getting worse and worse, ❞ barton ever-so-slightly squinted his eyes at joker as if he was trying to read him. he'd let his nails get out of control, that much was for certain, but he had been 'taking a break' from practicing for about a month now... which really only meant he wasn't seeing any patients outside of surgery. and when he did surgery, it was with precautions taken so that his nails wouldn't breach the gloves ( though usually they were shorter and less sharp. ) the thing about gotham metropolitan was that he'd actually worked there quite some years ago, and they did have strict policies about how long your nails could be. but now that he had his own clinic, he could set the hygiene standards for it.

that didn't mean that he wanted it's existence to be known to the public, though, as his main clientele was criminals. forging some documents to make it appear as if he was working at the hospital like he had years ago was his solution to this. and it always helped to have someone on the inside who could quote unquote ' make that official. ' a micro-expression of displeasure seemed to flash across barton's face for just a second as he made prolonged eye contact with him. all the while, matilda wrapped his hand with a roll of bandages she'd taken out of her purse.

the corner of his lips curled as if to say ' i may not even know you that well yet, but i already hate you. '

Joker expects a gruff burst in his ear once his focus settles on Dr. Mathis’ pocket. Matilda dropped something in there. What exactly, Joker can’t tell. Neither can the younger Wayne heir from their family’s defunct terminal. Squinting won’t help, but it does relieve his red-streaked eyes. How tree pollen has managed to swamp the city is beyond him.

Werewolf slips the cigarette from his mouth to cough into his elbow. He resists the urge to paw at his nose. MAC Chromacake pigments dry down matte, but mist already has begun beading on the surface. A pale blue streak trickles from Tragedy’s eye, down his cheek, and into the margins of his scarlet simper. It has no taste.

Blaring horns don’t distract him, though incoming footsteps while his back is partially turned compels Joker to glance over his shoulder. The line remains wrapped around Paradise’s facade and around the corner. Overcast keeps bruising the night sky.

Sokol side-guards Joker on the left. The black wolf-dog’s ghoulish eyes remain locked on the father-daughter duo before them. One of the doctor’s palms bleeds. Joker hones in on it while accounting for both sets of hands. Those hands could never touch a patient. Something isn’t right. A chill rolls the length of Joker’s spine. He rears his chin, tucks the damp cigarette to his lips so he can inhale as it’s dying, then force himself to breathe.

Without moonlight to transform under, the lycan is left to shift from sole to sole; dipping his shoulders and carrying his torso on that subtle current. Each time he blinks, Bruce loses focus. He has more than plentiful clear frames to screenshot and print, but it’s the jostling of the cameras that unnerve him most. 

“Stand your ground and stay in plain sight,” Bruce’s instruction is calm as, ‘MATHIS, MATILDA’ appears alongside the young woman’s perfect face. No place of employment listed, however. She’s in every way proportionate; a living doll. Scars from cosmetic procedures to achieve such a flawless veneer might dent her skin here and there, but Joker isn’t close enough to know for sure. Those low-resolution lenses certainly can't reveal if any cosmetic procedures have taken place. “No one’s threatened you,” his reminder’s gentle enough to soothe one of his little nieces, “No one’s gonna hurt you. Just hold steady.”

A gradual drop of Joker's left hand settles over the bracelet tucked under his cuff. Three quick taps onto the moon-shaped charm with his thumb are followed by three longer taps, then three short taps. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. Again. The moon symbol lights up once. Joker covers it with his thumb, then allows his damp sleeve to fall back down and resumes smoking. The Chief’s Special carves his hip. Joker rakes his left hand-heel over the revolver’s snout and remains in position. 

“I’ve got three,” Joker speaks in reference to daughters, but scrunches his face and clarifies, “They’re all little, though. My oldest is five,” youngest has yet to be born, “And my son’s a baby.” His chin nudges toward the doors guarded by Dalí’s long lost twin, “How packed is it in there, Ma’am?” Joker asks Matilda, though his voice might be swallowed by the rain’s hiss. “My wife's on her way. We were just waiting on our sitter,” he’s doubtful Gary had evening plans, “She likes the cabaret.” 

“That was smooth,” though Bruce knows his older brother can’t comment aloud, Joker preens in a fashion that opens his chest up enough for the little brother to know he’s gloating. “Nothing about this guy’s behavior is right. Not hers either. I’m gonna look up his medical license and see if he’s really still in practice. It’s against board regulations to have nails like that. Unless Gotham Metropolitan’s nixed its scalpel budget…” Bruce thinks he’s funny. Joker’s stomach knots in a bow. For that, he paws at his eyeballs and rattles the image Bruce is seeing enough to intentionally trigger a migraine or motion sickness on the younger brother's end. “Do you think they retract like that X-Men villain?”

Joker would roll his eyes if only he could. Instead he puffs enough smoke for a veil to float over his eyes. The rain won’t let it last. Droplets thicken and fall like little guillotine blades. They cut past polyester and soak the satin sleeves of Joker’s dress shirt so they cling to his skin. His chest cinches, leading Joker to cough again and expel any smoke that might remain in his chest. Once more he checks both father and daughter’s hands, then winds Sokol’s light blue lead tighter around his own hand. 

“Are they still slinging Drops around like candy in there…?” Joker speaks to Matilda again, though Dr. Mathis hasn’t left his eyeshot, “Last time, we were practically stepping over bodies just to get to the bar.”

“Try to figure out what she does,” Bruce speaks in reference to Matilda, “I don’t have an employer for her…and she’s being just as weird as he is.” Before Joker interrupts him with some canned, ‘You can’t just tail people because they’re weird,’ Bruce stresses, “He practically admitted to killing that cop, then tripped over it once he knew he couldn’t take it back. Worst comes to worst, have Nix give him a shake-down and see what falls out of his pocket.” Joker slackens his jaw, but isn’t certain if his brother’s joking. “Maybe it is Drops.” Certainly wouldn’t be a body.

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 9.2 | full chapter without breaks on AO3

content warning: more fluff, more laughs, a little bit of insecurity from Miguel and reader, underage drinking (all of the characters are aged 18-20 so by USA standards, that's underaged. but college kids will be college kids. and so will high school graduates.), a mention of an edible like once, Hobie is here! (fr this time), Pavitr too, even more jealous Miguel, 18+ so MNDI, wet wet relations, fellatio, cunnilingus, Miguel is a munch (his fantasies are unraveling finally), cum play if you squint, partially public indecency???, I think that's it

word count: 9.3k, halfway proofread (I split it really weirdly so I apologize for that lol)

Some of the links used in this part are just to give you an idea of what's going on! Enjoy! 🩵

Prev (Part 9.1) | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who texts Tyler while you’re in the shower. 

Dad…Tyler:

“She really loved it. Thank you so much for helping me out with this, Dad.”

“Any time, son! I’m glad everything went well! I can have my people send over the video form of the animation if you would like.”

“Sure, I can have it on hand.”

“And I take it, you like the yacht?”

“It’s extremely nice! Captain Barrett is pretty cool.”

“Don’t tell him you said that or it’ll go to that funny mustache.”

“Ok 😭”

“I did have a question though.”

“Ask away.”

“What did Kron do to his other boat?”

“What didn’t he do to that boat? He had too many friends on that thing all with a mix of substances I could never dream of combining. Their parents had to come drag them out lest the police get involved. I’ve never helped Kron with any event or party since then. He hasn’t earned it and he embarrassed me greatly.”

“Would you be more comfortable if we held off on the drinks?”

“See son, the difference between you and Kron is that you understand the legal ramifications of doing something so idiotic as having illegal items on a property that isn’t yours as a minor. You also have integrity and respect, something that Kron has lost sight of. I trust that neither you nor your friends will do anything too drastic.”

“Yeah, there’s no crazy stuff happening this weekend.”

“I believe it.”

“Get back to your girlfriend now. Thank you for checking up on your old man. Tell her I said hello.”

“For sure. Good night.”

“Good night!”

GymRat!Miguel who opens his arms up to you as you come out of the bathroom. You hurried to lay in his arms, skin warm from your shower. 

You snuggle up under his chin, “Today was really fun.”

“Yeah?” he rubs your head slowly. 

“Mm hm. Now, we should sleep.”

A yawn racks through Miguel’s body, the day of driving settling in his bones. 

You keep your ear on his chest. The steady tempo of his heart and his breaths lulling you to sleep. 

GymRat!Miguel who is still asleep by the time you wake up. You both ended up at opposite ends of the giant bed with just your legs intertwining. 

You look over to Miguel and watch his chest rise and fall, his snores crescendoing at each breath. 

You lay your head back on the pillow, eyes tracing the shape of his face in this morning light. The water was calm, giving the boat a slight rock. Some seagulls flew by, their sounds fading in and out. 

You scoot closer to get a better look, your hand lightly following the line of his face. 

His eyes flutter open at your touch, a brown sea welcoming you. 

“G’morning,” his voice is terribly deep like this. The timbre shoots straight to your core. 

“Morning. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you whisper. 

Miguel moves to lay his head on your chest, taking a deep breath. “It’s fine. The sight made me feel like I went to heaven.”

He pulled you closer by the waist, “Ten more minutes?”

“Rest up all you need, bear-bear.”

GymRat!Miguel who is just as excited as Gabriel when he gets to the deck that morning. The agenda was swimming with the dolphins before everyone else got here.

Miguel and Gabriel were practically buzzing in their matching wetsuits. Dana snuck in a video laughing at the twin looks on their faces. 

GymRat!Miguel who sneaks glances at your form on the way to the dolphin center. You’re leaning over the edge of the smaller boat, the wind against your face. The wetsuit was doing wonders for the curve of your figure. 

GymRat!Miguel who ends up going into a nerd session about dolphins with Gabriel. Both of them are spitting out dolphin facts at the speed of light. 

 “I just think that if you were to be any dolphin, it’s so obvious that you would be an orca.” 

“But why, though? Because I’m big? That’s a new low, even for you, Gabri.”

“No, it’s because you’re mixed, obviously. Killer whale aka orca aka dolphin. Duh, Miguelito.”

“Don’t ‘duh’ me because that doesn’t even make sense. Orcas are still classified as dolphins even though they look like whales.”

“Just like you-”

“I’m going to smack you off the side of this boat if you finish that sentence.”

“Resulting to violence just like a killer whale, what a shame.”

“You’re so annoying. Orcas are smart, they speak different languages based on their pod, and the name was actually ‘whale killers,’ not ‘killer whales.’ That would make me an orca, but I would not be one because I would never take care of my family but abandon my children.”

“A lot of male dolphins abandon their families. A lot of them hang out with the bros and come back.”

“Female dolphins can do the hard work of carrying babies from ten to eighteen months, so enlighten me, Gabri. What are the male dolphins doing with the bros?”

Gabriel squinted his eyes and put his finger up weakly, “This is a trick question.”

“No it’s not! Don’t you know the answer?” Miguel put his hands out, as if waiting for a physical object to be presented. 

“I do know the answer, which is why I don’t want to give you the satisfaction.”

“Well, now I want to know because you two nerds wouldn’t shut up about bottlenose dolphins just five minutes ago,” Dana scoffs as she takes off her shades, the morning sun too much for her. 

“That’s not the same energy you had last night when I-”

“No one wants to hear that.”

“Shut up, Miguel,” Gabriel snaps back. “They take care of other dolphin babies. And sometimes become friends with benefits with their homies.”

Dana makes a disgusted face, “And you’re defending that? Wow. So when I have your kid you’re going to leave me and go do fuck all with Pavitr?”

“No, Dana, I would never do that! We discussed this! Miguel is going to study seahorses, make me a safe mutation, and I’ll carry them for you!”

“I don’t even study genetics so I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“So you wouldn’t carry her babies?” Gabriel gestures towards you in a panic. 

Miguel looks towards you at the front of the boat, watching the water go by. 

He thought of you as a mom, carrying his kid, holding their hand in the park, picking decor for the nursery. 

He thought of you under him, taking everything he could give you and more. You screaming his name as the bed creaks loud enough to fill the hallway. 

“I would, but that’s not the question right now.”

“Why did it take you so long to answer that?” Gabriel’s tone was high. 

“Oh my god, he was thinking of getting her pregnant,” Dana says in horror. 

“Oh, so I have to listen to your escapades, but I can’t even daydream in silence?”

GymRat!Miguel who listens intently to the staff. No harm shall come to any dolphin on his behalf.  

GymRat!Miguel who makes friends with one of the cute dolphins. Her name is Dotty because of the few spots she has on her body. 

She immediately gravitates towards Miguel. Her blowhole squeals constantly whenever Miguel talks to her. 

“Well I think Dotty is in love!” the instructor yells from across the enclosed water. 

GymRat!Miguel who laughs at Dana who keeps getting splashed on by the baby dolphins. 

GymRat!Miguel who looks so cute with his nose touching Dotty’s rostrum. They’re spinning in circles with Dotty clicking away like a cat purring. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches you interact with one of the bigger dolphins whose name is Mon. 

“Mon and Dotty are a couple, but he’s a little sad today because Dotty isn't giving him any attention,” the instructor says with a giant pout on her face. 

Even Mon’s clicks sounded sad and Miguel didn’t know how that was possible. 

Mon places his chin on your shoulder and you’re immediately in love, rubbing his body and consoling him and his broken heart. 

“It’s ok, Mon. You can hang out with me,” you say in a sweet voice. Mon’s fins squeezed you even tighter. 

A sweater, some random guys, Dana, Blake, and now a dolphin. Miguel can’t win. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches Mon click and spin happily when you feed him fish for doing a trick. 

“That was so good, Monie!” you pat his head, and he leans into your hands. 

GymRat!Miguel who thinks Dotty and Mon are a bit like you and him. They’re twirling in the water together, rubbing their bodies close. 

GymRat!Miguel who sits with you on the boat ride back, watching the dolphins race with the boat halfway to the yacht.

GymRat!Miguel whose eyebrows raise when he sees one of your friends as you guys step off the boat. 

“Hobie!” you squeal, running to hug the lanky figure. 

“My girl! How have you been, love?” he asks, a deep London accent lining his words. 

Love?

“I’m so happy you made it! How’s the apprenticeship? Any new techniques to share?”

“A lot more than techniques, if you know what I mean?” Hobie leaned on you as he snickered away. 

Miguel might pop a fuse. 

GymRat!Miguel who lingers by as you chat away with Hobie. The two of you are catching up for a while and Miguel wants to walk back to the room with you so you can help him take off this tight wetsuit. 

He’s lightly kicking at a puddle with his arms crossed when you call his name. 

“This is my boyfriend, Miguel,” you say, coming up to him and wrapping an arm around his.

“He’s a big one, innit?” Hobie says, holding his hand out. “Hobie Brown.”

Miguel shook it with a sturdy hand, “Miguel O’Hara. Nice to meet you.”

“How long have you known this firecracker for?” Hobie gestured to you with a smile.

“It’ll be a year once August hits. The best ten months of my life, honestly,” Miguel says, leaning down to kiss your temple. 

“She’s got you wrapped ‘round her finger, yeah?” Hobie smirked at the love drunk look on Miguel’s face. “Yeah, you’re a goner. That’s just how she is. One encounter and it’s hard to let go.”

Hobie went to pick up his one backpack, a master at light travel from how much he’s moving. 

“Don’t let me stop yous two from partying. See ya in an hour, love,” Hobie said walking away. 

You look up at Miguel, “The best ten months?”

“Yep. Love?”

“It’s a British thing. He’s friendly!”

“Hm.”

“And definitely demisexual.”

“Hmph.”

“You’re very territorial.”

“For good reason.”

GymRat!Miguel who makes it to the boardwalk after he’s changed to greet their friends and guide them to the yacht. 

There’s a lot of you, especially from Gabriel and Dana’s graduating class. Miguel greets everyone warmly. 

It feels good to unite his old friends and newer friends together.

GymRat!Miguel who makes a plan to be the best at every activity on the agenda today. Yeah, he wanted to have fun, but for some reason, he felt like he had something to prove.

He walks back out to the top deck to see Hobie laying out on the flat slats under the shade. His arms are crossed and his shades are hiding his full expression. 

From here, Miguel can hear Blake chatting it up with some of the girls that are hanging out near the on-deck pool. He looks over the edge and sees him grinning from ear to ear as the girls giggle. He clicks his teeth at the scene. 

“Big Migs, c’mere for a sec, will ya?” Hobie said.

“He’s a bit chatty, that one. An overachiever if I’ve ever seen it.”

On second thought, Miguel might like Hobie a lot.

“All morning, he’s been spitting nothing but rubbish. Going on and on about the boat and the city and his socials. Nothing of substance, just straight air.”

Miguel snickered, “It feels like that’s all he’s got going for himself. His daddy’s boat, his daddy’s money, and his face.”

Miguel recounts the events from last afternoon. How he lacked respect for not only him but for you and your personal space. 

“Not gonna lie, I’d smash his head in,” Hobie replied calmly.

Miguel let out a hearty laugh, “I wanted to and honestly, I could, but there are several circumstances stopping me. Such as the fact that we’re on his dad’s property.”

“But deep it, when’s the next time you’ll need to be on this thing?”

Miguel is about to respond in agreement when you round the corner from the stairs. 

“There you two are!”

You smile at the two of them, “Are you guys getting along? Has Hobie convinced you to join him on some scheme across the country?”

Miguel took a deep breath before responding. He knew what outfits you brought with you, a lot of them matched his own, but it was still like new whenever you put them on. 

He didn’t have enough time in the world to cherish your beauty. 

“They’re not schemes, baby, they’re elaborate plans,” Miguel responds.

“Man like, Migs!” Hobie hops up and drags his arm around Miguel’s shoulders. 

You shake your head with a warm smile on your face, laughing at Hobie’s antics.

“And you look stunning. Though, I’m not too sure if it’s fit for hoverboarding.”

“That’s because I’m jet skiing and shaking ass, Hobie. You guys can have fun flipping in the air.”

“Right on, then. Migs and I have important business to attend to.”

Miguel nods, “Extremely important.”

You eyed them both, “Uh huh.” They left in a controlled frenzy, Hobie pulling his wicks up with a giant band and Miguel cracking his neck.

You didn’t even want to know. 

GymRat!Miguel who is a bit peeved that Blake has to give the water hoverboard demonstration. He’s staying up there longer than necessary, grabbing girls to balance them in the middle of his board while he flips them around.

You’re standing next to Miguel during it all, waiting for Miguel’s turn so you can get a video.

“Hey!” Blake yells out in your direction. “Wanna take it for a spin?”

You shake your head and yell back, “No, I’m good!”

“Just three minutes! Don’t be scared! I won’t drop you.”

“No thanks,” you bite back, voice irritated. 

Blake smiles with a hand on his hip, ready to convince you, when Hobie pipes up, “The lady said no. Can we move on?”

Blake’s face cracked a bit as he told one of the crew members to kill the power in the waterboard. 

“What is up with him?” you mumble to yourself. 

“I think he likes you,” Pavitr remarked. “He wouldn’t stop asking Gabriel questions about you.”

“He’s really pushing it,” Miguel scoffed. Not only was he being overly flirty to every girl on board, he was adamant about getting your attention. “No wonder he gets along with Kron.”

You sported a twisted lip as you watched him strap up one of Gabriel’s friends. “I don’t know. Even if I was single, he’s a bit too…tiny. Communal.”

The laugh that left Miguel wiped the scowl right off of his face.

GymRat!Miguel who gets the hang of the hoverboard after one try. You’re recording him with a big smile on your face as he tries to spell “love” in the air. 

GymRat!Miguel who dies laughing at Gabriel’s horrible attempts at staying in the air. His body keeps shaking like a baby deer and he’s steady yelling in garbled Spanish. 

By the time his turn is over, Miguel is laid out on the boardwalk with tears down his face.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Miguel,” Gabriel cries out.

Miguel just rolls and laughs some more. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches you expertly drive a jet ski from the edge of the yacht. You’re shouting with one arm in the air as you race Dana and some of her friends. 

Miguel leans his head on his hand as he watches you zoom across the ocean. Your skin is glowing, your smile is sparkling, and your laugh is bright. 

GymRat!Miguel whose bubble of thoughts involving you, him, the water, some fruit, and a floatie is popped when Blake’s voice pierces through. 

“She’s pretty good at that.”

“Yep.” Maybe if Miguel ignored him enough, he’d go away.

“Looks like a dream, too.”

“Are you dumb or something?” Miguel turns his body, gripping the rail to not get in Blake’s face, but extending his height to cower over him.

“Woah,” Blake holds his hands up. “It was a compliment, dude, chill out. You’re not mad at me for finding her beautiful, are you?”

“That’s not what the fuck you’re doing and you know it.”

Blake makes a confused face, laughing off Miguel’s statement, “Kron said you guys were open.”

“Does it look like we’re fucking open?”

“Well, at first-”

“Keep talking and you’ll end up just like him. Knocked out. Do you want that?” Miguel edged closer to him. “Huh?”

Blake bristles, ready to defend himself when his head is knocked to the side. 

He looks next to him to see a gaggle of girls all with waterballoons and nerf guns. They yell at him to come on and pick a side. 

Blake scrambles to join them.

Miguel is about to follow when Hobie sweeps in front of him, “Cool it.”

GymRat!Miguel who almost takes an edible from Hobie but decides against it. 

“The offer is open all weekend.”

“Noted.”

GymRat!Miguel who gets roped into playing some games to start off the night, one of which is Never Have I Ever with shots. 

It started off innocently with things like peeing in a pool and cheating on a test to which everyone looked in shock at Miguel when he put a finger down. 

“I’m smart but if there’s a group effort to get the right answers, I’m not going to say no.”

Then it went left field and personal with things like threesomes, drunkenly fighting with others, and streaking. 

“Never have I ever…received head from a partner!”

A few of the guys put a finger down, groaning out and snickering as they had to take another shot. 

Miguel was trying not to dwell on how many experiences he lacked compared to the group, a lot of them younger than him. 

He rubbed his tongue across his teeth. He didn’t want to show his irritation on his face. 

Looking across the circle, he could see Gabriel’s eyes get wide, staring off beside you. 

Miguel followed his line of sight landing on you with a finger down and a shot in your hand. 

What the fuck. 

Who the fuck beat him to it? Where the fuck did it happen? When the fuck did it happen? How the fuck did he not know?

He’s ready for the game to be over. 

“Miguel is putting in work!” one guy pushes his elbow against Miguel’s side, laughing and patting his shoulders. 

Well, if people think he did it, it’s not so bad. 

“Oh my god, girl, how was it?” Dana’s friend asked you. 

Miguel tried his best not to scream bloody murder. 

“It was,” you pause, looking up to ponder. “It was something! Not particularly fun or good. My ex wasn’t the best at listening so he just poked at me. I faked everything that night.”

Miguel smirked. There were no big shoes to fill because they were never taken out of the box. Or even out of the store. 

“That sucks. I bet he thought you were in heaven.”

You laugh with the girls, joking in a way similar to the women that flooded Miguel’s for-you page. 

Miguel stepped away to get a breather. If he stayed any longer, he might do something drastic. 

GymRat!Miguel who is leaning on the boat when Gabriel comes to check up on him. 

“You ok, Miguelito?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. A little overwhelmed so I need to reset,” Miguel wrung his wrists while he let the sea breeze cool him down. 

“Is it the game? Don’t feel so bad,” Gabriel leans closer to Miguel and speaks in a stage whisper. “Some of them are a little too fast for their own good.”

Miguel snickered. Gabriel was definitely tipsy. 

“Thanks, Gabri.”

“Anytime. Don’t let them bring you down. You’re my perfect Miguelito. My pure baby!” Gabriel kissed him on the cheek.

“Ugh,” Miguel laughed and wiped at his wet cheek.

“Don’t wipe away at my love, broski.”

GymRat!Miguel who is guided by you in a dance. You’re a little tipsy and giggly, holding onto him as you dance to the music. 

Miguel just holds onto your hips and smiles with you. 

GymRat!Miguel who is locked in on your body as you grind against him. You’re arching your back and looking at him with a sparkle in your eye and Miguel feels like a wild animal.

When you lean back against him, he whispers in your ear about a private party just for the two of you. You bite your lip and turn to look at him. His eyes are tracing your lips and his hands are groping you. 

GymRat!Miguel who laughs at you as you wish everyone a good night quickly.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning!” you shout to your friends as you pull Miguel behind you to the room.

GymRat!Miguel who waits for you on the bed while you use the bathroom. 

He’s excited for an intimate night with just you. Parties were fun but it really couldn’t beat the serenity of smaller groups. It especially couldn’t beat talking all night with you. 

Everyone else was chilling out in other parts of the yacht, back in their hotel rooms, or night paddle boarding. 

You’re in the bathroom staring at the thin fabric in your hand. 

Miguel told you that there was a pool involved. 

You bought a micro bikini during a surge of confidence. It looked so cute on the model and you wanted to feel the same way. 

Now you’re standing in the bathroom freaking out, worried to death over the flimsy material. You were excited about Miguel seeing it, but you couldn’t shake your own nerves about how everything would play out. 

A knock at the door makes you jump.

You crack the door and peer up at Miguel. 

“You ok in there?” he asked, eyebrows pinched. 

“Yeah, I’m ok! I’ll be out in just a sec!”

You bite the bullet and place the bikini on. 

You didn’t account for your areolas to poke out beyond the triangles. You bit your lip as you turned to check out your backside.

At least your ass looked great. 

In a nervous motion, you pull your coverup over you and pull your hair up so that it doesn’t get too ruined by the water. It was now or never. 

GymRat!Miguel who holds your hand as he guides you to the private area. You’re squeezing his hand so tight. 

One of the stewardesses smiles as she sees you two coming. She stands next to a rope cutting off the area. 

“Good evening to you both! I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay so far,” her voice is polite and even. “Tonight, it’ll be just you two enjoying the Galaxy. If you need anything, just press the call button on the wall and I’ll be right down.”

She unlatches the rope and holds her arm out in the direction of the stairs.

You both slowly descend, careful not to slip on the trippy-looking wood. 

Taking a step into the room, Miguel stares in awe at the glowing pool. 

There’s petals fluttering about, small fairy lights surround the corners to add extra light. Looking up, you both can see the night sky with the stars adorning it. 

“This is beautiful,” you say, the lights surrounding you glittering in your eyes. 

You were staring at the stars and the lights but Miguel couldn’t help but to think that you were the most beautiful part of the room. 

He said this much to you, watching as you bent your head down hiding the smile on your face. Miguel lifted it back up and kissed you under the light of the stars. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah, let me just go take this off.” 

You walk towards a chair with folded towels placed on it. 

“Miguel, these have our names on them!” you say with shock, running your fingers over the embroidered letters. Hearts surrounded the names and you felt fuzzy from the implication of the stewardess preparing this. 

“Yeah, I heard it was a part of the couple’s bundle,” he shouts from the pool. It wasn’t really a part of the bundle, but Miguel suggested it way before the trip. 

His back was turned to you, trying to set up a speaker by the pool. 

The moment was perfect, so you opened a champagne bottle and poured two glasses. You took a huge gulp of one and removed your slip. 

GymRat!Miguel who hears you entering the water, so he hurries to pick out a song. 

The mood needs to be right. 

He turns to you and nearly drowns at the sight. (Art is not affiliated with this fic, but I couldn't find any plus-size women in real life on Pinterest with this type of bikini! Please give this artist some love, I love their art!)

You’re coming down the stairs with two glasses in your hand and your skin on full display. The strings are digging tight into your skin and your breasts are practically spilling out from every side. 

Miguel is stunned.

“Come grab your drink, Miguel,” your voice is like butter in his ears. 

His eyes don’t leave you as he swims across the pool. The only sounds that could be heard are the water moving around him and the music playing. When he gets closer, he stands up, water dripping down his body. He’s breathing hard and is laser-focused on your frame. 

You feel an array of emotions. You feel like running, jumping, maybe hiding. His gaze is too heavy and he hasn’t spoken a word yet. 

You don’t know how long you two stare at each other before Miguel breaks the tension, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

He takes the glasses from your hand with one hand and picks you up in the other. You cling to him as he goes to the edge of the pool, places one glass down and chugs the other. 

In a flash, you’re sitting on the edge and he’s holding his body out of the water in order to kiss you. 

He pushes your mouth open, pulling at your lip with his teeth. He was desperate, wanting more. 

Your hands find your way to his hair, the tips wet from his swim. You card your fingers through his locks, opening your mouth wider as Miguel groans onto your tongue. 

He can’t stop, body moving forward the deeper the kisses get. Your legs open wider and your hands fall down Miguel’s back. You go lower than usual, pushing your hands under his swimsuit, fingertips grazing over the skin of his ass. 

Miguel parts, spit-ridden mouth red and messy. 

“You’re making this so hard for me,” he says against your lips. You’re both panting into each other’s mouths. 

Your body feels like jelly. The way that he’s looking at you fills you with desire, “Making what hard?” You’re quivering and clenching as his eyes seem to get darker. 

“Baby,” Miguel kisses the corner of your lips then your jaw. He moves to where your jaw and neck connect, licking  “Amor. I can’t.”

You move your head, encouraging him to continue, “You can if you want to.”

“No, I’m supposed to take this slow,” his mouth moved to your collarbone, sucking at the skin as you squeezed your thighs around him. “I need to take this slow.”

He gets to your breasts, pressing your nipples through the material and watching as your areolas poked out more. “Mierda.”

You try to talk as Miguel takes one breast into his mouth, “It’s ok to want more. I want, ugh, I want you to take more.” He pulls at your nipple, watching as it rises more through the fabric. His thumb traces it, causing you to twitch in his hold. 

He continues to rub over the fabric as he kisses down your stomach. The string is wrapping around your stomach like a gift just for him. 

“Tomorrow, baby,” he says into your skin. “I’ll take more tomorrow.”

He needed to stop before he broke the promise he made to himself. 

He hears you whine as he gets eerily close to your sex before jerking his body straight. 

“Why?” you sound so needy and broken. 

“Because,” he kisses your pout away. “Tomorrow, I’m going to take all I need. You just need to trust me. Please.”

You nod your head, heart pounding with his words. 

GymRat!Miguel who lets you persuade him into swapping places. All it took was a few blinks of your eyes and Miguel was swooning.

“I saw you walk away during the game today. I wanted to make sure that the next time you play, you’re able to put a finger down.”

That’s what you told him with a sweet smile on your face.

Now you’re rubbing up his thighs and Miguel is about to pass out from the view of you peering up at him. Your eyes were foggy and the slope of your neck to your chest was glistening. From this angle, Miguel could see the curve of your ass with the bikini barely covering it.

You run your hands down his chest, fingers dancing along the slopes and planes, leaving a wet trail in your wake. Miguel’s stomach tightens as you make it below his belly button, the sensation of your fingertips across his happy trail building a fury in his core.

You kiss him through his swimsuit causing him to jump.

You hold his thighs and tilt your head to lean on one, “Are you nervous, Miggy?” Your knuckles rake against his groin, lingering in spots that made his inner thighs clench the most.

“I,” Miguel is trembling like a leaf. He can barely get the words out from how much energy he's using to hold himself up. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” You lift your body from the water a little, pressing your tits closer to his clothed sex. “Baby, I need you to know. I can’t go further without your permission.”

Miguel feels like he could cum right now.

“I’m really nervous, but I want to experience this.”

You hum as you start to pull at his waistband. His eyes scrunch closed as his dick springs up. 

You’re met with a sight you had missed. The size is still as intimidating as the last time. 

You rub his thighs and give yourself a quiet pep talk. You were determined to make your boyfriend feel good. 

Miguel looks back down at you and swallows dryly, anxious at the look in your eyes and your silence, “If it’s too much, w-we can stop here-”

“No.”

The first lick of his tip has Miguel rising off of the pool edge, pre-cum escaping him.

He whines, embarrassed at his lack of control, but his dick is twitching from the sensation.

“Miguel,” your hands are back on his hips at a flimsy attempt to hold him down. “You need to be careful, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby right now.” Miguel’s voice is winded like he’s been running a marathon.

You look up at him. His mouth is twisted up and his eyebrows are furrowed. His stomach keeps shaking and his elbows don’t know if they want to bend or extend. When he looks down at you, he lets out a whimper, dick jerking against his will.

You hold your lips right above the head, the heat of it making you excited, “Baby.”

Miguel jerks again as you take his tip into your mouth, more of his pre-cum slipping out. His body is wound tight and he’s losing sense of it. Your mouth is so warm and he’s crying out from just you suckling along the head. He would be grateful with just this alone.

You push yourself lower, mouth adjusting to the widening girth. You don’t know if it’s the champagne combined with the other drinks you’ve had today, but the taste is making your mind fuzzy. 

You hum as you move your tongue along the underside of his length, his essence melting into your mouth. Miguel continues to twitch against your lips. 

You look up and he just groans when his eyes connect with yours. 

“P-pretty,” he stutters out, brain-to-mouth filter completely disintegrating. One of his arms covers his mouth as he fights to quiet down. There’s no telling what the stewardess could hear from above. 

You decided to go deeper, wanting to hear him some more. You make it halfway down before you grip his shaft and give it a few semi-dry pumps. 

Miguel just about shouts at the sensation, legs jerking enough to splash the water around you. 

Satisfied with the reaction, you release him with a pop and slide your tongue down to the base, trying to get him as wet as possible for what you’re about to attempt to do. You pucker your lips to leave wet kisses all over his shaft, sucking occasionally. 

All Miguel can do is whimper and shake. 

You hold him, sliding your hand up and down, applying pressure whenever you glide over the top, “You can hold on to me.”

Miguel shakes his head and releases his bottom lip from his teeth to speak, but his words are jumbled up in a heated mess. 

“Say it again, Miguel. I don’t understand,” you bring your mouth to the head again, this time, cupping his balls as you slide back down. 

Early spurts of cum land in your mouth as Miguel uselessly grips at the flat ground. He’s moaning out your name and if you weren’t sliding him down your throat, you would think he’s crying for you. 

“I-I don’t wanna hurt you,” Miguel takes heavy breaths in the middle of his sentence. 

Even like this he was oh so sweet. You don’t push it and continue on. 

As you reach the hilt, you force yourself to relax, thumb pressed against your fisted palm. He was heavy on your tongue and you needed to find the right pace. 

You slowly move your head up and down, lips wet with spit and slick. You build a steady tempo that has Miguel involuntarily moving his hips and moaning in a senseless manner. 

He was conflicted, core heated at the sound of your throat barely taking him, but wanting to pull you off so you don’t choke all because of him. Hot tears ran down his face as you didn’t let up. 

He chooses the latter, foggy mind coming to a decision. His shaky hands reach towards your face, your cheeks hallowed and eyes closed. His hands make it to your cheeks when you reach the hilt again and swallow around his head. 

Miguel scares himself with the moan he lets out. 

You panic as you swallow his load, mouth completely full. 

Miguel hurries to pull you off, “Shit! Baby, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s ok,” you cough as you try to catch your breath. Drips of him that you didn’t swallow falling to your chest. “I wish you would have told me you were about cum, though.”

“I didn’t know!” he’s red in the face. “God, I’m so sorry!”

“Was it good, though?” You look up at him with lips and sparkling eyes. You’re holding your tits up so that his cum wouldn’t get in the pool. 

Miguel’s dick twitches like it’s trying to wake back up again. You notice it and a grin plants itself right onto your face. 

“Do you really have to ask me that?”

“Yes, Miggy.”

“I think my embarrassing finish was enough but yes, you made me feel good. It was way more than good. Now come out of the pool before you get any more ideas.”

“It wasn’t embarrassing!” you reply as Miguel picks you up from the water and on his stomach while lays back. “‘Was kinda hot. You felt so good that you couldn’t wait.”

You slide your finger over your cleavage to pick up the leftover essence and plop right in your mouth. 

Miguel grips your thighs as he looks up at you, “No, stop that, you vixen.”

You’re going to be the death of him for sure. 

GymRat!Miguel whose legs are like jelly when you help him up from the ground. His thighs haven’t shaken this much since his first leg day almost five years ago. 

“Do you need to lie down on the beach chair for a minute?” you ask with genuine concern. 

“Yeah, I think I need a second,” Miguel says, trying his best not to put his entire weight onto you. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches you watch him from the pool. You’re at the edge, leaning over and smiling at him while you let your body float. 

“Next time, I want to get, like, really hoarse. We should work on your resistance and my tolerance. Oh! And maybe we can do that thing where I hold your-”

“Amor, please. Let’s talk about this when I’m not halfway dying,” Miguel groans, dick half hard. “How are you so good at this anyway?”

“Practice! With my ex and like one other fling. They weren’t nearly as responsive as you, though.”

Miguel squints at your figure. 

“Or fun. Or satisfying. Or tasty. Or big. Can I do it one more time, Miggy?”

Miguel stares at you for a minute or two then groans, “Come on.”

You leave the water and walk over to him with glee. 

GymRat!Miguel who grabs lightly onto your head this time, fingers twitching occasionally. His legs are parted and you’re laid out on the horizontal part of the beach chair. Miguel is constantly looking from your face to your ass, experiencing a sensation overload. You take it easy on him this time, saving some of your tricks and things you wanted to try for a later date. 

The room is filled once again with Miguel’s grunts and whimpers plus your mouth and throat molding unto him. 

GymRat!Miguel who warns you this time. You let go with a pop and let him paint your open mouth. He shudders as you look at him through it all, pumping him slowly until he can't take anymore. A lonely tear escaped him, eyes heavy and chest heaving. 

GymRat!Miguel who barely makes it back up the stairs. He gives the stewardess a polite smile but you can barely look at her for longer than a second. 

“It was really lovely,” you say leaning into Miguel’s side, voice a little gone. 

“Yeah, amazing,” Miguel snickers. You nudge him at the back of his leg causing him to stagger a bit. 

The stewardess just laughs and wishes you both a good night. 

GymRat!Miguel who sleeps like a log that night. His soul needed to rejuvenate. 

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up a new man. He feels like he can conquer the world. As of now, the world is a new set of water activities with their friends. 

He kisses you on the cheek in your sleeping state makes his way out to the deck, wanting to do some morning stretches and yoga if he could fit it in. 

He walked out to see Dana talking to Blake, an indifferent look on her face.

“I just can’t believe he would lie to me like that, you know? Like that’s fucked up. Here I was, ready to get something and he set me up.” 

“Yeah, no. That really sucks,” Dana replies with a big yawn.

“I mean, I thought we were bros. I thought-”

“Miguel! My knight in shining armor,” Dana practically screams when she spots Miguel.

Blake tenses up so that if he mimics a timid raccoon. 

“Morning,” Miguel walks up to them.

Blake breaks out into a sweat, “Hey man, I’m sorry about last night. I would have never done that stuff if I knew. I don’t know why Kron told me you guys were open.”

“I think you need some new friends and better social cues,” Miguel brushed Blake off and walked with Dana onto the boardwalk. 

“Thank god you got here. That was his fourth iteration of ‘bro code should be respected.’ I was going to start screaming if he kept talking.”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Dana guide him in a mini yoga class on the beach. It’s pretty nice with the waves crashing and the birds squawking occasionally.

GymRat!Miguel whose downward dog pose is almost disrupted by you whistling from a spot in the sand. 

You and Gabriel had snuck up on Miguel and Dana, cackling like hyenas.

“Baby, I think you can go deeper,” you shout over the waves, encouraging Miguel to stretch.

“Gross,” Gabriel shudders. 

GymRat!Miguel who wants to use you for a flying pose but you refuse. 

“I’m not walking back with sand up my back.”

“Can we try it later, though?” Miguel pouted. 

“On safe carpet, yes.”

GymRat!Miguel who settles for a forward fold with you. You stretch your body across his back as he reaches down to touch his toes. 

It’s nice until you both switch positions. 

“I think I’m dying,” you gasp out. You sound like an old man on his last breath. 

“No, you’re not. You just need more practice,” Miguel chides from above. 

“When will I ever need this pose in life?”

“Flexibility is good for you!” Miguel replies after a while. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

GymRat!Miguel who tilts his head at your breakfast plate piled with pineapples. 

“You don’t want an omelet?”

“Maybe later.”

GymRat!Miguel who joined any group activity he could. 

From the inflatable water obstacle course,  

which Gabriel cheated on by the way,

To the boat tour, he got so many pictures for you for his rotating home screen,

To the banana boat rides that he almost lost his life on. It took you, Gabriel, and Dana to hold onto him. 

GymRat!Miguel who surprises you with a “rooftop” dinner on the horizon on the highest part of the yacht. You’re wearing that same green dress that made him go crazy in the dressing room. 

“This is so gorgeous, Miguel,” you sigh as you take in the small scene. 

From up here, you could see the breathtaking view of the ocean and the city. The sun was close to setting, people were out and about, and the group was partaking in last-minute activities like parasailing and water walking with bubble balls but you could only focus on the glow around Miguel. 

“Did you enjoy this weekend?”

You nod your head, shy with attention, “I really did. I had so much fun.”

“Even with boys that don’t understand the word ‘no’?”

“When I have my strong boyfriend there to defend me, what is there to be afraid of?” you smile at him. 

Miguel sits up straighter at that, chest puffing out.

You laugh at his state, “Seriously, though. This was one of the best summers ever. I’m really glad Mr. Stone arranged this and I’m even more glad that you brought me along.”

“Of course I did. You’re my girl. Mi amor, mi luz,” Miguel reached out to run your hand. “I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

Like a flower unfurled, your heart took in his words. You leaned across the table until you could brush your lips with his, only the sun peeking through the two of you. 

You let go and lean back a little. “I’m not letting go of you either. I want you by my side,” you say, eyes panning back and forth between his.

“And that’s where I’ll stay.”

GymRat!Miguel who covers your eyes on the way back to the room.

You’re whining because you don’t have nearly as much planned for him as he always does for you. 

“Amor, you could just text me an emoji and I would be happy. You deserve good things. Don’t worry about me.”

GymRat!Miguel who wraps his arm around you as you open your eyes to the room. 

It’s lit with soft lights, decorated lightly with rose petals in the shape of a heart on the ground, and a banner full of pictures with the two of you. Pictures from outside of lab, pictures of you with oil paint on your face, pictures of him piled with notes in the study lab. 

Pictures of you both on your early dates, pictures of you looking at him in the car, pictures where he’s kissing your face off. 

You gasp at the scene, feet stuck in the entryway.

“Surprise,” Miguel says into your ear, kissing the top of it.

“I don’t think I have any tears left,” your voice is watery enough to dispute that lie.

GymRat!Miguel who kisses you deeply in the middle of the rose heart. You’re cradling his face with one hand and rubbing your thumb across his sideburn with another.

You’re so wrapped up in his arms and his presence that you miss his question.

“Can you do what?”

Miguel’s hands find their way to your ass, pulling you even closer, “Can I please eat you out?”

When you stare at him with your eyebrows raised, it only pushes him to continue.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I’ve dreamed about it, researched how to do it, studied it, daydreamed about it. I need to do it before I go crazy.”

He bent down to get on his knees, hands never letting go of your body.

“Please, baby. If you’ll allow me, I really want to make you feel good.”

At first, all you could think was that Dana was right and definitely a girl’s girl. Then, you looked down at Miguel whose head was pressed up against your torso, eyes pleading with you. 

You ran your hand through his hair, “You need to do it?”

“Uh huh,” he nodded, nuzzling into your body through your dress. 

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to fake my reactions for you.” You didn’t have the heart to lie to him like that, especially when he’s looking at you like that. 

“You won’t have to,” Miguel mumbles into your skin. “I’m confident, but if something is weird, stop me immediately.”

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t give you time to think when you whisper out an “ok.” He’s picking you up by the legs and plopping you on the bed.

Like a switch, he’s kissing down your body, pulling at the stretchy green fabric to expose your skin. He’s crowding your space in the most desired way possible, a fire building within him.

“Miguel, the dress isn’t going to come off like that,” you say, internally laughing at Miguel tugging to no avail. 

He starts to pull so hard that you can hear threads ripping. Before you can stop him, there’s a makeshift slit up your thigh. 

You lean up on your elbows and give Miguel a look. He just stares sheepishly and lets you stand up to pull the dress off. 

“You gotta be more patient baby,” you purred, bending down to kiss his lips. 

When you lean back, you move backwards to sit on the bed. It’s just you, your black panties, and a hungry Miguel at your feet.

The further you inch up the bed, the more Miguel crawls to be closer to you. 

“Can I kiss you?” he breathes into your mouth, eyes never leaving yours.

“Please.”

Miguel melts into your skin, mouth molding to a familiar shape. His breaths are heavy and sporadic, too excited to finally know what you feel like on his tongue.

You reach to pull his shirt off, wanting to feel his chest against yours, wanting to feel the expanse of his back while he pressed up against you. Miguel follows your movements without letting up.

He sighed into your lips with pleasure as he let his hand flow down your body, grabbing a breast to massage. You hummed into his mouth, legs parting to bring him closer. Eager to please, Miguel slipped his shorts below his bulged, grinding against you.

You start to wrap your legs around his waist before Miguel interrupts you with a sturdy hand under your knee, and a promise to devour you to your neck.

GymRat!Miguel who groans when he slides your panties down your legs. The slope of your thick thighs to your ass has Miguel ready to burst. 

He gets on his knees to maneuver your legs up into your arms. You peek up at him over your knees, your wet cunt kissing the air. 

He licks his lips at the sight, taking a tentative touch at your wet lips. 

You jump at the sensation, the feeling of Miguel seeing you this vulnerable new. 

He bends down to kiss them, hands on the back of your thighs for extra support. Your core flutters as he takes a few more kisses to your sex, tongue reaching out to trace from the bottom to the top. At the first taste, Miguel is groaning into you, sending vibrations through your body. 

You sigh out in bliss as your grip loosens on your legs. Miguel flattens his body on the bed and spreads your legs wide, tongue continuing to savor the taste of you. 

At this angle, Miguel pushes his tongue in between your folds, feeling your warmth around him. He laps at your entrance slowly causing you to flutter around him and reach for his hair.

He slurps up the juices that try to escape him causing you to moan out his name. He just hums in response, breaching further inside. The more noises he makes, the wetter you get. The room is full of the sound of him lapping everything he gave you and your quiet moans.

“Miguel,” your breath hitched as he swiped over a particular spot. You look down at Miguel whose eyes are closed and hands are tight on your thighs. You feel a building heat seeing how much of a trance he’s in. 

Just when you feel a bud sprouting within you, he directs his attention towards your clit, searching until he finds it. At the first skim across it, your hips are bucking up off the bed. Miguel is quick to hold you down, placing his weight on your thighs and lapping continuously at the pearl. 

“Fuck!” you shout, hitting the mattress. You’re writhing beneath him, unable to control your body. “Don’t stop, Miguel, please.”

Miguel groans through it all, lapping up every drop. 

“Baby, I’m gonna-” a scream pushes through you as your body shakes with pleasure. Miguel takes it like a champ, slurping like you were his last meal.

As you twitch with aftershocks, Miguel barely gives you time to recover before he’s diving back into your entrance. You let out a sob, still sensitive and quivering as your legs move too close before Miguel growls and wraps his arms around your thighs to keep them open. 

He’s sinking into you, moving his tongue at a steady pace and sucking in between. Your moans were a pool of words from his name to begging to profanities crescendoing across the air.

Miguel would rarely part for air, adamant on bringing you to the hilt again. Your thighs were tensing up as Miguel kept going, fire building as you grabbed his hair and jerked your hips in time with his movements. 

Your climax comes in waves, your hands tighter in his hair and an arch in your back. When you clench over his tongue and your release hits his mouth, Miguel’s eyes start to roll and he’s rubbing his nose against your clit. You yell even louder as Miguel pushes his face incredibly deep into your pussy. He’s rutting into the bed at the sound of your voice, moaning with you. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The captain swore that the VIP suite was soundproof, but your voice was practically carrying across the yacht. 

“She’s getting it good! Just like I promised,” Dana smiles to herself. 

“What did you promise? I was the one that gave Miguel tips.” Gabriel moved his headphones aside. 

“Oh yeah? And what tips did you give him?” She had her eyebrow raised and a silly smirk on her face. 

There was a pause of silence between them, only your voice filling up the space occasionally. Gabriel stared at Dana with a goofy grin.

He reached over and connected his phone to his speaker, putting on his special playlist. “Want to find out?”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

GymRat!Miguel who has to be pulled off your sex with both of your hands. His eyes are glazed over and his chin is soaked. Every chance you came after the first two times, your body would move up the bed and Miguel was sure to follow. 

“Ok, ok, baby,” you heave. Your legs are spasming, a result of the position and Miguel’s willingness to have you cum over and over again.

You were tapping out, body sore and tired. 

Miguel left a final long kiss to your clit, a trail of essence following his lips. He kissed up one of your thighs with a hungry look still in his eyes.

“¿Lo hice bien, cariño?” (Did I do it well, baby/darling?)

You trembled at his touch, limbs still heavy and mind in the clouds. 

Still, this was the best you’ve felt in a while.

You open your mouth to whisper, “Lo hiciste muy bien.” (You did so good.)

GymRat!Miguel who has to calm down internally at your answer. You don’t talk to him in Spanish often, but when you do, he’s over the moon. 

GymRat!Miguel who carries you to the bathroom to clean you off.

“Baby, I can’t walk. You’ll have to carry me for the rest of your life.”

“I’m totally fine with that.”

GymRat!Miguel who shocks you when he says that you don’t need to worry about bringing him relief. 

“Amor, I came when you came. After that, it was really all about you.”

“Oh!”

GymRat!Miguel who pats his past self on the back for asking the crew for extra sheets. He had no clue how the evening would go, but something in him told him to be overprepared. 

Those old sheets were beyond ruined. 

GymRat!Miguel who rubs your legs and stomach with aloe vera lotion after the shower. Not only did he stretch you a little further than you’re used to, but his bite marks left a big impression. 

GymRat!Miguel who cuddles you to sleep. If you wore him out the other night, he definitely put you through the ringer. You were gone after three rubs to your back. 

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up early with you to send off all of your friends. You’re yawning constantly, tears sticking to the corners of your eyes.

“Someone had a time last night,” Hobie snickers as he walks past with his backpack. 

“Shut up, Hobie,” you say, already flustered. 

“What? It’s true! If I didn’t know Migs' name before, I sure do now.”

“I’m going to backflip off of this boat.”

GymRat!Miguel who grants Captain Barrett a goodbye, thanking him for letting them use his boat.

“It was a pleasure to host you, Miguel. If you and your girlfriend ever need to, my superyacht is available for any future formal events!” he elbows Miguel with a giant grin, curled mustache moving like it was paid to do so. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, Cap.”

For Miguel, the man with the plan, he would grant Mission A: Eat You Out, a huge success and the start of the summer one to remember.

divider by: @iwonbin 🩵

Part 9.1 here!

a/n: And with that, the yacht chapter is finished! I hope you guys enjoyed it and got your life. 🤭 It was both challenging and rewarding to write this GIANT chapter. I hope that you guys have fun with it like I did! I have no idea how the next chapter OR Miguel's Mission B: Virgin No More plan will go, but!!! Hopefully, it will be pleasant regardless! 🤠

ALSO! I have decided to give this drabble that's basically a fic a proper name (mostly for AO3). Do you all have any suggestions?

As always, like, comment, and reblog. Let me know how you feel! 🩵

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