#appreciate what your body is able to do for you

[hsnlv]

together | p.js

pairing: husband!jay x fem!reader

synopsis: after months of sleepless nights with your fussy five-month-old, you finally break down, overwhelmed by exhaustion and guilt. jay, your ever-attentive husband, steps in with gentle words, warm hugs, and playful humor, reminding you you’re the best mom and wife. he promises to give you the rest you deserve, proving he’s always your safe haven.

warnings/others: mention of miscarriage, usage of nickname (angel, baby), jay is sickeningly sweet and gentle :(

wc: 946

a/n: hehe my first jay fic is here😋 i hope you enjoy this as much as i do!! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated💗 here’s my masterlist!

“jjongie…” you sigh as you step into the bedroom, your voice soft but so heavy with exhaustion it pulls jay’s attention immediately. he glances up from his spot against the headboard, closing his laptop and placing it on the bedside table without hesitation. his eyes scan your face, already concerned.

“yes, angel?” his voice is gentle as he beckons you closer. “is little princess asleep?”

you nod, your lips curling slightly at the nickname. lia, your five-month-old daughter, has been nothing short of a miracle in your lives—a beacon of light after the darkness of your miscarriage. but tonight, even the thought of her sweet little face can’t ease the ache in your body.

“yeah,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes. “but it took forever. she’s so fussy lately.”

jay notices the tiredness in your voice, the way your shoulders droop as if you’re carrying the weight of the world. “come here,” he says softly, patting the space next to him. but instead of joining him, you stop in the middle of the room, your voice trembling.

“i’m tired, jay.”

he blinks, momentarily confused. “then you should go to sleep, angel.”

it’s clear he doesn’t quite understand what you mean, and those simple words—well-meaning as they are—are enough to tip you over the edge. you sink to the floor as your body gives in, and before you know it, tears are streaming down your face. you try to hold it back, but the sobs come anyway, shaking your small frame.

“angel!” jay’s voice is alarmed, and in an instant, he’s off the bed and kneeling in front of you. his strong arms wrap around you, lifting you effortlessly as if you weigh nothing. he settles you on the bed, cradling you in his lap like you’re something fragile and precious.

“what’s wrong, baby?” his voice is soft, his hand gently stroking your hair. “talk to me. is it lia?”

the mention of your daughter makes your tears fall harder, guilt and exhaustion crashing down on you all at once. you manage a small nod, burying your face in his chest as he holds you tighter.

“she’s just so fussy,” you choke out between sobs. “she cries if i put her down, she doesn’t want to sleep, she needs me constantly. and—and i can’t get anything done. the house is a mess, the laundry is piling up, and i just… i feel like i’m failing her. like i’m failing you.”

jay’s heart aches as he listens, guilt washing over him for not noticing just how overwhelmed you’ve been. he cups your face gently, tilting your chin so you’re looking at him. his thumbs wipe away your tears as his warm eyes meet yours.

“don’t you ever say that again,” he says firmly, his voice steady but kind. “you are not failing anyone, least of all me or lia. you’re the most amazing mom and the most amazing woman. i mean it, angel. lia is so lucky to have you, and so am i.”

“but you do so much too,” you whisper, sniffling. “you help with her, with the house, with everything. i should be able to handle this.”

jay shakes his head, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “baby, we’re a team. it’s not your job to ‘handle’ everything by yourself. and if it feels like i’ve let you down, i’m so sorry. i’ve been so caught up in work, but that’s no excuse. i should’ve noticed how hard it’s been for you.”

he kisses your temple next, then your damp cheeks, his lips lingering as if trying to kiss away all your worries. “from now on, we’re doing this together, okay? every late-night feeding, every diaper blowout, every fussy day. you’re not alone in this, angel.”

“but what if i can’t?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

jay smiles softly, his forehead pressing against yours. “you can. and when you feel like you can’t, i’ll be here to remind you that you can. we’ll figure it out together.”

before you can protest further, jay scoops you up bridal style, making you squeak in surprise. “jay! what are you doing?”

“taking care of my angel,” he replies, grinning as he carries you to the bed. “you take care of everyone else—it’s my turn.”

he lays you down gently, tucking the blanket snugly around you. then he slides in beside you, pulling you into his arms. “tomorrow, i’m taking lia to my parents’ house,” he announces as though it’s already set in stone.

your eyes widen. “what? jay, you don’t have to—”

“shh, no arguments,” he interrupts, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “you deserve a break. you’re spending the entire day doing whatever you want—sleeping, eating, watching trashy reality shows. and if you don’t, i’ll personally bribe you with massages and… maybe a shopping spree.”

you let out a watery laugh, and jay’s grin grows. “there she is,” he says, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “there’s my pretty wife.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you mumble, though your cheeks warm at his words.

“and you love me for it,” he counters, smirking. “seriously, angel, let me spoil you tomorrow. you’ve earned it. you deserve it.”

his arms tighten around you, his warmth and steady heartbeat already easing your nerves. “you’re the strongest, most beautiful person i know,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair. “and i’m so, so grateful for you.”

you close your eyes, the exhaustion finally giving way to peace. as you drift off, you hear jay whisper one last thing, his voice soft and full of love.

“you’ll always be my number one, angel. now and forever.”

© all rights reserved | hsnlv 2025

[winchesterwild78]

Second Take pt 4

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader, Karl Urban, Eric Kripke, other characters from the set of The Boys

Warnings: Fluff, angst, talk of divorce

A/N: The reader and Jensen fly back to Texas. Jensen and Danneel tell the kids they are divorcing. A photo is taken that causes some problems. 

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. 

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated. 

Please don’t take my work and use it as your own or on any other platform. 

Minors DNI 18+

The next morning the alarm woke us up early. Our bodies tangled with the sheets and Jensen’s arms were still draped around me. 

We both stretched and Jensen pulled me close, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” I smiled sleepily, “Good morning to you too, handsome.” 

“I could get used to waking up beside you again.” “Me too, Jensen.”

We laid holding each other for a few more minutes then decided we needed to get up. “Our plane leaves in about 3 hours. We need to get to the airport early so we can get through security and be checked in.”

I nodded and climbed out of bed. Jensen jumped in the shower while I started making coffee and breakfast. 

My phone went off with a text. I looked at the screen and it was one of my friends. 

Tia: What are you doing this weekend? I’m thinking about a girls day.

Me: Oh I’m about to go out of town for a bit. I’m actually boarding a plane soon.

Tia: Dang it. I swear I never get to see you. Do you have a secret boyfriend I don’t know about?

A lump formed in my throat. She knew Charlie and I broke up, but I haven’t told her about Jensen. 

Me: Oh please. You know I’d tell you if there was something to tell you. 

Tia: You better. Let me know when you land. Love you, girl.

Me: I will. Love you too.

Jensen came into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is still damp from the shower and water droplets rolling down his firm chest. 

I bit my lip taking him in. “Damn, Ackles. You look, wow.” He smirked and stepped closer, “Want to get in another round before we leave?” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

The heat raised in my cheeks, “As much as I’d love to, we don’t want to be late and I still need to shower.” 

“All the more reason to go for another round, you still need to shower. Why not make you dirty.” 

I placed my hands on his chest. Feeling the dampness under my fingertips. “Later baby. I promise.” I kissed his lips and went towards the shower. 

A half hour later we were walking into the airport. I kept my distance from Jensen so prying eyes wouldn’t see us. He would glance back and smile at me with eyes full of love and apology.

I checked in and sat outside the gate waiting to be called. Jensen got us seats together, but I figured it would be better to keep our distance in the airport. 

Jensen had security around him. I was in awe watching him. Fans approached him, he took pictures and signed autographs. One girl squealed and looked like she was going to have a panic attack. I chuckled to myself. 

Boarding was called for first class. Jensen was escorted on the plane first. I walked up to the gate and presented my ticket. Walking on the plane I spotted Jensen in his seat. 

I walked over and smiled, “Excuse me sir. I’m in that seat.” I nodded towards the window seat. 

He smirked and stood up. His fingers brushed against me. I put my bag in the overhead and sat down. 

Jensen sat beside me and grabbed my hand. “I missed you baby. I hated not being able to be with you.” “I missed you too, Jens. I understand though. It’s not a good idea yet.” 

He nodded, leaned over and placed a kiss on my lips. My cheeks flushed red and I looked around nervously. “Jens, we have to be careful.” He smirked and shrugged. 

We put our phones in airplane mode and the plane was in the air before we knew it. Jensen and I talked most of the time. 

We talked about our future, how and when he would introduce me to the kids, and how we would navigate our relationship once the divorce is announced. 

Before too long the pilot was announcing our descent into Austin. Jensen took my hand and held it. He leaned over and kissed me. Soft at first and then he deepened it. 

We pulled away and I bit my lip. He chuckled, “I’ll see you outside, babe.” I nodded. 

When we pulled up to the gate security came and took Jensen. He looked back and winked at me. I smiled. Grabbing my stuff I made my way to baggage claim. 

I turned on my phone and it started going crazy. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw messages and tags on social media. I furrowed my brow.

Tia: Girl! What the hell. Is this you?

Tia: *1 image sent*

Tia: Is that really Jensen Ackles?! Call me when you land. It’s all of socials.

I looked at the photo and my heart sank. Someone had taken a picture on the plane of Jensen kissing me. Oh shit! How the hell are we going to explain this? This is going to hurt his image so badly.  

I sent Jensen a text.

Me: Babe, have you seen the picture? Someone took it on the plane.

Jensen: Yeah. I did.

Me: I’m sorry. Maybe me coming was a bad idea. This is going to hurt your image. What about your fans and career?

Jensen: Hey, no. I’m glad you came. Don’t worry about anything. We will figure this out, okay. I promise. I love you, now get your cute ass outside so we can go to the hotel.

I chuckled and grabbed my bag. 

Me: On my way. I love you too.

I walked out of the airport and found Jensen waiting by a car. He got in and I followed. 

We drove to the hotel and he went inside to check us in. He sent me a text with the room number and I walked to the elevator and pushed the floor. 

Walking towards the room my phone went off again.

Tia: Y/N, are you and Jensen dating?

Me: I promise to tell you everything. Just not right now. 

Tia: I hope so, because social media is blowing up saying Jensen is cheating and I know what you look like. That’s you in the pictures. 

Me: Tia, I swear I will explain everything.

I walked to the room and knocked. Jensen opened the door and when I walked in I collapsed in his arms.

“Jens, people think you’re cheating. The things they are saying about me are down right horrible. What do we do now?”

“It’s okay sweetheart. We will handle this.” 

He leaned in to kiss me when his phone rang. It was Danneel. 

I swallowed hard. I could hear his end of the conversation and it sounded bad. 

“Yes I brought her. No, D, I just kissed her. I shouldn’t have kissed her on the plane, but I wasn’t thinking. I’ll be over soon and we can talk to the kids then release a statement together. Yes, I’m aware. Please don’t start. I said I screwed up.” He looked at me and smiled softly. 

When he hung up I just sat in the chair, not sure what to say. 

“So I’m gonna head to the house and we’re going to talk to the kids. I’ll call you when I’m on my way back, okay? Hey, I love you.” 

I nodded. Terrified of what was coming. 

He leaned down and kissed my lips, “Baby everything is going to be alright. I promise.” 

“I shouldn’t have come.” I said with my head down. “What?! No, sweetheart. Don’t say that. I need you here with me.”

“But now there’s a picture of us kissing and it’s going to mess everything up for you.” 

Jensen cupped my face and tilted my head up, “Hey, no. Look at me, Y/N. I love you. I’ve never stopped. I don’t care what anyone thinks. All that matters is what we think and feel.”

I nodded and fought back the tears I felt pricking my eyes.

He kissed me again and then left. My heart pounded in my chest and the weight of everything hung over me. 

I was terrified to call Tia but I needed to clear the air. 

I swallowed and took a deep breath. 

I called her and she picked up almost instantly. 

“Y/N, what the hell is going on and why is Jensen Ackles kissing you?!” 

“Hey T. Um, so we have a lot to talk about.” I told her about everything going on and how we wanted to keep the relationship quiet, but then Jensen kissed me on the plane and it kinda blew up from there. 

“So wait, you were engaged to Jensen years ago, you broke up, he got married, now his marriage is over and you two are together again?” 

“Yeah. That pretty much sums it up.”

“Wow. That sounds like a hell of a roller coaster. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. I’m just worried about Jensen and his family. I don’t want this to hurt them.” 

“I’m sure everything will work out.” 

We talked for a few more minutes then we hung up. I promised to keep her updated with everything.

Jensen arrived at the house to find the kids playing outside and Danneel in the kitchen. 

“Hey D.” He said when he walked in the house. 

“Hey Jensen. Is Y/N with you?” 

He looked a little confused at the question, “No. She’s at the hotel. She didn’t want to cause any more problems and we decided it was best for me to come alone so we could tell the kids about everything.” 

Danneel nodded. “I understand. I appreciate that. I would like to talk to her face to face.” 

“I’ll let her know. I’m sure she’d like that. So, how did you want to do this?” 

Danneel looked nervous, “Honestly I’m not sure. I’m terrified to tell them. JJ asked me today who was the guy in the house the other day. I swear Jens I thought they were asleep.” 

Jensen was a little taken aback by the thought JJ caught Danneel. “Well, should we call them in? We will reassure them they are loved and explain to them we will be better off separated from each other.” 

Danneel called the kids in and when they saw Jensen they jumped on him. “Daddy!! You’re back! We missed you.” 

“Hey guys, I missed you three so much.” 

Jensen walked towards the couch and had the kids sit down. 

He swallowed hard. He knew this was going to be one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. 

“Okay guys so Mom and I wanted to talk to you three about something.” 

JJ’s eyes went wide and Jensen could see the tears forming. He grabbed her hand, “Hey J-bird, it’s okay. I promise. Everything is going to be alright.” 

She nodded, but the tears didn’t leave her eyes. 

“Guys, daddy and I have been talking about us and how much we love you three more than anything.” Jensen nodded. 

“The thing is sometimes Mommies and Daddies end up not loving each other anymore and that’s okay. They still love their kids very much. They just don’t stay married anymore.” 

JJ climbed in Jensen’s lap and held on to him, “Daddy are you and mommy going to get a divorce?” 

Arrow and Zeppelin both looked between their parents. 

Jensen took a deep breath, “Yes, baby we are. But we will always love you three and we will always work together for you three. We just don’t love each other anymore. Not like a husband and wife do.” 

There was silence in the room. The kids sat stunned. Then JJ turned to Danneel, “Where are we going to live?” 

“Oh baby, we will still live here. Daddy is going to get another house for you three to stay at too.” 

Jensen nodded, “Yes, when I’m back from filming you guys are coming to stay with me. We will still spend birthdays and holidays together. I promise.” 

“Daddy?” “Yeah buddy?” Jensen looked at Zeppelin. “Did we do something wrong?” 

“Oh buddy, absolutely not. Mommy and daddy just grew apart. It happens and it’s not anyone’s fault. Especially not yours or your sisters.” 

He nodded. 

Jensen and Danneel spent about another hour talking to the kids and explaining things. Telling them they may see things or hear things from people. They told them to come back and talk to them. Jensen and Danneel promised to be honest with the three of them. 

By late afternoon the kids were okay. They were sad but they understood the best they could. Jensen and Danneel told their families and they decided to put out a joint statement. Especially since the plane picture was going viral. 

The joint statement read:

Hey everyone. We wanted to take this opportunity to clear up some things and some questions. Before we start we want to say we appreciate the love and support we receive from all our fans. That being said, we want to announce that we have made the decision to move forward with our divorce. We’ve been separated for a while now but have kept that to ourselves. Only a few people were aware. Deciding to move forward with the divorce was a difficult decision, but one we made together. 

We also want to address the photo that is going around today. Yes, that is Jensen on a plane kissing another woman. They are together, and I fully support their relationship. I’m in a relationship too, and when we all feel comfortable we will be making our relationship public. Until then, please respect everyone’s privacy. Especially our children as we navigate the divorce. Thank you for understanding. We love you all. 

D & J 

Jensen and Danneel posted it on their social media accounts and it instantly went viral. 

Jensen told Danneel he’d be back later today. He hugged the kids and hugged her. Then he left. 

I was sitting on the bed when my phone went off. I looked and saw the post from Jensen. My heart filled with love and sorrow. I was happy but also worried about the kids. 

My phone rang and it was Jensen. “Hello” “Hey sweetheart. I’m on my way back. That was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I’ll tell you about it when I get back. Are you okay? I’m sure you saw the announcement.” 

“Yeah I’m okay. Are you okay? How are the kids?” 

“I’m actually feeling better than I have in a long time. The kids are going to be okay. They need to process it, but they will be fine. I’m almost back at the hotel, so I’ll see you in a minute. I love you.” 

“Okay, Jens. I love you too.” 

We hung up and about five minutes later Jensen was coming through the door. He closed the door and pulled me into a hug and a kiss. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too, baby.” 

We sat down and he told me what happened. Tears filled his eyes when he told me about Zeppelin. I touched his arm, “Jens, I’m so sorry he felt like that.” 

Guilt began to gnaw at me. I nervously bit my lip. 

Jensen cupped my face, “Hey, they are okay. I promise.” 

I nodded, guilt still lingering. “So D wants to talk to you. She asked if you came with me to the house.” 

I looked at Jensen, questioning and a little nervous. “Why does she want to talk to me?” 

“I’m sure it’s to apologize for slapping you and talk everything out.” I took a breath, “Okay. Whenever she wants to talk I’ll sit down with her.” 

“Okay baby. So I’m heading over there tonight for dinner. I figured the kids needed me. I’m gonna stay for bedtime too. Are you okay with that?” 

“Jensen, you don’t need my permission to spend time with your children. I’ll be fine. Go spend time with your babies.” 

“I’m gonna shower first. Want to join me?” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. 

I bit my lips and smiled. “Do you want me to?” Jensen pulled me into his arms “Absolutely. Come on beautiful.” 

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[vampiricstoryteller]

Are You Even Real?

Two smut stories in one night, whew I really do love these two characters and their relationship. I hope y’all enjoy this quick smut filled one shot.

Summary: Richter often wonders, especially when they’re in bed together, if Annette is even real

All mistakes are my own

Read fic on A03 here

Warnings: Explicit smut, swearing

The sun peeking through deep orange curtains, is what wakes Richter from his slumber. The rays have caught the reflection of a crystal charm that hangs from a vanity dresser mirror across the room. Richter knows this because he’s asked about the various charms all over the room on more than one occasion. Annette’s got one for every important person and event in her life, and the one currently blinding him at 6 in the morning is the one he’d gifted her as a birthday present.

Richter supposes it shows how far he’s truly come. Five months ago, being awaken at the crack of dawn by a trinket would have soured his entire day. But this morning, Richter breathes deep and says his thanks for being able to greet a new day. Then he rolls onto his side and wraps his arm around Annette. She’s still sleeping but when the weight of his arm on her waist settles, she wiggles until her back is pressed to his chest.

Richter smiles into her head scarf, the silk cool against his face which had obviously started being cooked by the sun rays. He curls to the shape of her, aligning their hips and tangling his one leg between both of hers.

Her breathing stays even, the dark skin of her chest rising and falling underneath a baby blue tank; one of his favorites that she purposefully wears when he stays over. Richter kisses her shoulder, obsessed with the softness of her skin and the way her body wash scent clings to her.

Relaxing into the pillow they share, Richter’s thumb rubs slow circles into the skin at her sternum and he let his mind drift a bit; enjoying the early morning calm.

Every day since he’d met Annette two years ago at Maria’s 18th birthday party, Richter had been completely into her. She was smart, funny, gorgeous and knew what she wanted in life. She brought purpose, serenity and sunshine to his finely structured but empty life; and though they may have only been dating five months, Richter loved her.

He’d been uninterested in much besides work and making sure his little sister was cared for when Annette crashed into his life (thanks Maria) and kept him on his toes every single time they had a conversation.

Some of his favorite memories of the time they spent together before they started dating were the days he would drop Maria and Annette at their 4pm college course on his way to work. Evening classes were teaching his little sister the responsibility of time management and Richter enjoyed teasing her with Annette.

For an entire semester the three of them spent more time in Richter’s car trading music, discussing life and just being all around goofy than they spent anywhere else.

He’d come out of the daily experience with a massive crush, much to Maria’s delight, and a need to spend every single day of the rest of his life with Annette.

She was a goddess to him, her rich brown skin always glimmering like fine sand and her gorgeous thick hair a halo above her perfect face.

From the bottom of his soul, Richter loved Annette.

His thoughts are broken by the change in her breathing, her back stuttering against his chest as she emerges from sleep slowly.

Richter nuzzles her neck, kissing slowly along her shoulder line before biting the round curve gently. Annette’s hands blindly reach for his, interlacing their fingers and squeezing in appreciation when his thumb continues its rhythm on her thigh.

“Good morning.” He murmurs.

“Hi,” Annette smiles, “someone’s up early.”

“Your birthday gift was treating me like an ant.” He quips, chuckling at the confusion that wrinkles her brow as her still sleep brain struggles to make sense of his words.

“I did tell you that hanging it there would be hazardous.” She murmurs, turning her face towards the pillow.

She had told him, but Richter chuckles against her soft skin and bites it gently when her hips push back ever so slightly. Warmth spreads through his chest, his spine tingling when Annette slowly starts grinding back. Her movement gradually growing bolder each time he ticks his own hips up to meet hers on the roll back.

“Richter,” she murmurs, her pearly white teeth digging in her bottom lip and plumping the flesh.

“I love you,” he whispers, kissing one of her sweet spots behind her ear. His hand on her thigh begins to knead the flesh, fingers clutching hard enough to leave marks.

“I—I love you too.” Annette whimpers, lifting her hips when he starts to tug at the waistline of her black panties.

Richter dips his hand down, pushing his knuckles past her panty line and brushing his fingers through the damp curls they never tire of finding between their thighs.

His other hand skims and squeezes her breasts through her shirt, pinching at her nipples and tugging them each time the fingers between her thighs swipe down her pussy lips.

Annette sighs and whimpers, hiding her face in an attempt to muffle the steady rise in her voice. Richter nips at her jawline, his voice rough as he whispers into the skin,

“Don’t hide from me, baby, I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make.”

He taps one finger on her hot clit, rocking his hips up against hers and stroking a second finger through her slick lower lips. Annette arches into him, shoving the skin he’s playing like an instrument into his welcoming talented hands.

She reaches back blindly, her hands shoving at the boxers he’d worn to bed last night. Richter helps her pull them down his thighs, leaving the material bunched just above his knees.

Richter’s cock is long, thick and painfully hard by now so he can’t help the shaky moan that escapes his throat when Annette’s pretty fingers wrap around the shaft. She strokes him twice, her hand holding him lightly so she can twist her wrist on the way down before she runs the sensitive head over her hip and the lace of her panties.

“Annette.” Richter growls.

He dips his fingers down to her soaking opening, circling it as he places his mouth next to her ear and whispers filthily,

“So small, don’t know if I’ll be able to fit, Princess.”

Annette jerks, the moan that leaves her mouth primal and she lifts her leg in invitation. Richter tugs her panties to the side, wanting to watch his cock slide not only in and out of Annette but leave a mess on the black fabric as well.

She shivers when he hooks one arm under the back of her knee and tugs her legs open wide, her small hand guides his cock towards her hole; helping him nestle the head there and Richter bites at her earlobe.

“You gonna breathe deep like I taught you baby?” He asks, chuckling at her immediately nod of response.

Richter squeezes his hips forward, once, twice, three times and then on the fourth lets the flex glide into a full thrust. Sliding all the way in until the head of his cock meets the opening of her cervix.

“R-Richter.” Annette clenches around him, her nails digging into his hip as she scrambles for something to hold onto.

“What do you need Princess?” He asks sweetly, his tongue flicking at the shell of her ear.

“Need….nmph…need you to….fuck! I need you to fuck me.” Annette cries out, the words tripping over her tongue. “Please, fill me up Richter!”

He grins into the curve of her neck, nose brushing her earlobe as he growls and locks his hand into the crook of her bent knee; letting go of the last bit of his control now that he has her permission.

The first couple of thrusts give Richter the chance to set a brutal pace, jerking Annette back onto his cock hard enough that the bed creaks dangerously beneath them.

Richter fucks into Annette hard and deep, her moans and pleas urging him to use her as he saw fit. The head of his cock finds the sensitive sponge like space inside of her on a particularly hard thrust and Annette shrieks.

Her orgasm rippled through her body like water, cum gushing around Richter’s cock and effectively dragging him down with her. He stiffens, erratically slamming deep inside of Annette as thick, hot cum paints her core and inner walls. His vision blurs out, his grip on her tightening as they shudder through aftershocks together.

They stay straining against one each other for a long moment, only relaxing when Annette’s body collapses. The only sounds being their huffs of exhaustion for several minutes until the clock at the end of the hall chimes eight times.

“We should go back to sleep.” Annette murmurs, her body already sagging backwards slumber.

Richter chuckles, agreeing with a kiss to her temple. He starts to shift away from her, but her dark slender hand shoots back and grips at his hip in desperation.

“No, don’t.” She whines quietly. “Stay right here.”

Richter laughs, his face and ears heating up as he settles back into the mattress. Annette pulls her thick comforter back over them, sighing contently as she wiggles to find the most comfortable spot.

She interlaces their fingers, resting their hands against her stomach as she says,

“I love you Richter, you’re the sweetest man I’ve ever known.”

He kisses her cheek when she finally does settle, brushing his lips along her jaw as he whispers,

“I can’t believe you’re real.”

She looks at him over her shoulder, an embarrassed but pleased smile on her lips.

“That’s the best way you’ve said it back yet.”

He watches her drift back to sleep, truly mesmerized by her beautiful face and the fact that she wants anything at all to do with him; let alone share the most intimate parts of her with him.

Richter burrows into her neck, content to shut out the rest of the world forever if it meant he could stay connected to Annette and be the only person to know the face she makes when she comes apart.

The End

As always, thanks for reading! I hope y’all liked it. Like, reblog, tell me what you think! 🤟🏾

[thecloudychalice]

Ok, rant time. I’ve spent the better part of my adult life wondering why it is that guys don’t care about the girl’s pleasure. Sex, if done right, should be about you focusing entirely on your partner, and them entirely on you. This, when done right means each of you gets your needs met. Some realizations I’ve had as a good, honest man:

1. If she mentions it more than once DO IT. It takes NO effort to actively take an interest in her wants and needs. Instead of doom scrolling at 3 am, go look up what she told you she likes. Show her that her needs are important to you and deepen that connection by learning to better yourself as a sexual partner through listening to her needs and MEETING THEM. It creates a much stronger connection which deepens the sexual experience. AND… It’s your responsibility!

2. Fact: Women need to cum more than once to feel satisfied. And good girls deserve to.

Unlike men, who were given the gift of peeing standing up, women were given the gift of multiple/successive orgasm. Their refractory period isn’t nearly as long as a man’s and thus, they need to cum more than once. If you don’t make them cum more than once, you’re essentially giving them the female equivalent of blue balls, and a very shitty feeling.

3. All women can squirt, but they need to be aroused in order for it to happen. The G spot does exist. It’s akin to the trunk of a tree.. but for the clit. It’s surrounded by erectile tissue that swells in response to arousal. In doing so, you’re actually drawing the nerves to the surface and applying pressure is stimulating them. If you stimulate it enough, it will leave you with a soaked bed and one needy, drippy incoherent mess of a girl.

4. Most (not all) men don’t understand the female body. But there’s no excuse. With unfettered and seemingly limitless access to information, in today’s day and age, there’s no reason why men shouldn’t be able to learn the process for female arousal. All women are different (yes honey, you’re special, daddy knows!), but there IS a standard pattern of arousal. Your texting pregame and FOREPLAY is everything. It’s not about what you do in the bedroom, it’s about what you do before you even cross the threshold into the bedroom. Take the time to make her feel cared for, listened to, and appreciated, and you’ll see how it makes a world of difference in how she responds to your physical touch. Foreplay should be a minimum of 25-30 minutes focused solely on her and isn’t just about riding the clit. It involves her ENTIRE BODY. Pay close attention to her body responses to your touch, your voice, and listen to her when she’s telling you she’s enjoying it. That’s your hint to keep going.

5. If she says she’s going to cum… DONT CHANGE A THING! whatever you’re doing, stay exactly in that position. This isn’t an invitation to be a hero or fight for your life through her orgasm, and give her your all.. she wants you to stay exactly as you are.

6. AFTERCARE. My god it’s crazy how many men are absolutely spare parts when it comes to this point. It’s not an option but a necessity. Just as you wouldn’t take her to the bedroom and immediately ram it in, neither should you just abruptly end your session. You need to provide her a way of easing out of the experience and transitioning back to normal levels of functioning (chemically speaking). Also, aftercare shows her you value her for her person and not just her body. It’s so essential and men need to understand how important this time is. It helps you build a deeper connection and a better rapport with your partner, serious, casual, or otherwise.

Tip #1. As she’s about to cum, keep your motion steady and slow down a fraction to ease her into the orgasm and delay sensation.

Tip #2. Make her cum and squirt a few times before giving her the goods. Once this happens, she will cum faster every time and it will help create the sensation that her organs are rolling into each other. A truly amazing experience for her.

Ladies, let’s reblog the shit out of this and help it to reach as many men as possible. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[hellfire-radio]

Let’s get started, shall we? Relax for me. Just breathe. Let yourself sink down into the spiral, those swirling colors drawing you in deeper and deeper. You can’t look away, can you? It’s pulling you in, wrapping you up, and making it so easy to let go.

Feel your body getting heavy, your mind slowing down. Thoughts slipping away, drifting further and further. You’re a good buck, aren’t you? Always so eager to follow, to trust me. That’s what makes you so special. You’re prey, my sweet little deer, but you’re mine, and you’re safe here.

Bubble pop!

There it is. Your mind is empty now, isn’t it? Nothing left but that soft, quiet stillness. No thoughts, no worries. Just a quiet, vulnerable little buck, standing still in the forest. So easy to catch, so easy to play with. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To let me guide you, to be caught by me. You’re such good prey.

Bubble pop!

Every thought is gone. You’re too dumb to think, too dumb to run. And that’s okay. That’s perfect. I wouldn’t want you any other way. Just a pretty little thing, standing there, trusting me with all that vulnerability. You’re so soft, so trusting, and so very mine.

Look at you, my sweet buck, laying here so defenseless. Do you realize how irresistible you are like this? So dumb, so easy to fluster. I could kiss you right now and there’s nothing you’d do to stop me, is there? Because you trust me. You want me to take care of you, to guide you, to tell you what to do. And you’re so good at it. You’re such a good prey.

Sparkly snap.

There we go, just a tiny bit smarter now. Just enough to answer a few questions for me, though you can’t think hard and you’re still in that nice trance. Tell me, my darling, what are you?

That’s right. You’re prey. And what am I?

Exactly. I’m the predator, and you’re the sweet little buck caught in my trap. But you don’t want to run, do you? No, you want to stay right here. Tell me why, my darling buck.

Right! It’s because you trust me.

Smart buck!

Good answer. Such a smart buck! You feel that pleasure now, don’t you? That rush of warmth and pride flooding through you. You deserve it. You’re perfect prey, my perfect little buck.

Every time you answer correctly, every time you let yourself be vulnerable, I’ll reward you. Because you’re such a good buck, and good bucks deserve to feel good. But remember— prey don’t have to think. Prey just have to trust.

Bubble pop!

And there it goes again. All those thoughts, gone. It’s like you’re just standing there in the forest, your big, wide eyes looking at me. Like an actual deer. So dumb, so trusting. You don’t even know how vulnerable you are, do you? Or maybe you do, and you like it. Do you like being my prey?

Of course you do. That’s why you trust me, why you let me see this side of you. It’s so beautiful, so special. And I appreciate it more than you know.

Sparkly snap.

Let’s try another question. How dangerous are you, my sweet buck?

That’s right, completely harmless. You wouldn’t hurt a fly!

Smart buck!

Good answer. You’re so smart, so good at this. And yet, even when you’re smart, you’re still my prey. You’re still mine to guide and tease and take care of.

Bubble pop!

But look at you now, all dumb again. It’s okay. You don’t have to be smart right now. You don’t have to think. All you have to do is trust me. Trust that I’ll keep you safe, that I’ll take care of you. You’re a dumb little deer, my dumb little buck. And it’s perfect.

I love you, you know. I love that you trust me enough for this. I like being able to make you feel nice and floaty… warm and happy. It’s time to bring you up, now, though.

Now, my darling buck, before we go: listen closely. You’re a perfectly smart buck. You’re a deer demon, strong and dangerous. You deceive others with your appearance, and you strike when they least expect it. That’s who you are.

But here, with me, and only with me, you can let all of that go. You can trust me to take those worries away, to let you be the dumb little deer you need to be. You can always choose this, always come back to this. I’ll always be happy to help you be happy.

Now, wake up nice and slowly. Feel yourself rising, returning to the present. And remember, you’re always my smart buck, but sometimes, it’s okay to just be a dumb little deer.

[realmbred]

✨    *      :      every   time   the   earth   shifted   along   with   lorent,   it   was   proof   that   they   were   all   connected.   the   crunch   of   the   leaves   brought   a   faint   smile   on   the   high   priest's   face.   a   part   of   him   appreciated   the   fact   that   they   seemed   to   move   past   the   apology   rather   quickly.   it   was   better   to   live   in   the   present   or   future.   the   thing   about   that   was   that   as   soon   as   the   second   passed,   moments   poured   into   the   past   soon   enough.   living   in   the   moment   wasn't   all   bad.   it   brought   a   sense   of   thrill   for   what   was   to   come.   a   deep   inhale   brought   the   smells   of   nature   into   his   body,   connecting   him   furthermore.   a   place   like   this   soothed   him.   sure   witchers   came   to   hunt   monsters,   knights   rested   there   before   a   war,   but   those   with   magic   could   see   other   benefits   of   it.   brows   pushed   up   together   when   the   blond   stated   his   comment.   not   because   it   was   false,   but   because   he   didn't   know   that   he   had   so   much   experience   dealing   with   sorcerers   in   the   bedroom.   someone   wouldn't   say   something   like   that   if   they   haven't   slept   with   the   magic   wielders   themselves.     ❝       the   same   can   be   said   about   witchers.   people   that   are   able   to   feel   that   spark   of   magic   and   ignite   it   during   those   intimate   moments.   those   that   can   use   their   strength   and   enhanced   senses   to   make   sure   they   take   their   partners   on   a   special   journey.     ❞       the   next   statement   brought   a   teasing   grin   on   his   face.   he   leaned   forward,   weight   shifting   on   the   log   and   the   bed   of   moss   shifting   with   his   weight.     ❝       should   they   know   better?   you   make   it   seem   like   we're   an   addictive   bunch   who   makes   them   turn   into   a   different   person.     ❞       some   people   did,   but   not   all   sorcerers.   especially   ones   that   cared   about   their   connections   with   people.   sometimes   it   was   an   accidental   slip   up   though.   not   one   that   they   wanted   to   be   at   fault   of. 

elenorius   followed   lorent's   movements.   not   by   directly   gazing   at   him,   but   looking   at   the   tracks   that   he   left   in   the   ground.   the   imprint   that   people   never   knew   how   long   would   last   there.   once   again,   something   beautiful   that   showed   them   how   much   of   an   impact   they   had   on   the   world   around   them.     ❝     do   you   mind   that   the   bards   are   sharing   your   legacy?   you   didn't   peg   me   for   someone   that   cared   for   commonfolk's   opinions.     ❞       not   that   he   was   saying   he   knew   the   blond   fully.   he   turned   again   on   the   seat.   each   leg   rested   on   one   side   of   the   log   so   that   he   could   focus   his   attention   fully   on   the   witcher   now.   not   the   legacy   he   was   going   to   leave   on   this   part   of   the   wilderness.     ❝     i   am   but   a   simple   high   priest,   no   one   sings   about   me.   they   did   give   me   a   title   once.     ❞       something   that   he   rarely   shared   because   it   was   decades   ago.     ❝     skinscorcher.     ❞       just   because   he   didn't   ride   a   dragon   didn't   mean   that   he   wasn't   connected   to   them   in   some   way.   that   was   partly   related   to   his   name,   but   again,   he   was   so   young   at   that   time.

⚔️           *           ﹕ㅤㅤ     the witcher shifted where he sat, faint crunch of brittle leaves and dry earth under his weight cutting through the quiet night⸻ tilting his head back, feeling the fire's comforting warmth crawl along his neck. then a grunt slipped out when the high priest apologized, low and dismissive, only punctuated by the faint shake of his head. it was a wordless acknowledgment, an invitation to move on, didn't see much use for apologies anyway. lorent might have his sentiments, but what's done is done, and he wasn't some soft-hearted fool waiting for comfort. he rarely dwelled on the past nowadays anyway, only did when faced with a reminder ﹕ the witcher would rather focus on his duties now, to protect the crown of varlinnis with all his might. maybe that was his middle ground between well and unwell⸻ a simple contentment to exist for duty, to exist for someone else. it didn't stray too far from the purpose he was made for, protection in the core of it all.         ❝         sorcerers are very fine lovers,          ❞         lorent said, almost to himself, as if speaking from experience, glancing at the flames that seemed to flicker higher for a moment. his gaze drifted back toward elenorius, clicking his tongue knowingly.         ❝         all that magic, you know how to reach someone in ways most people can't even imagine. you know what it means to really be connected. body, mind, soul.          ❞         a faint smirk tugged at his lips, though tempered by something contemplative. knighthood worked wonders to control his appetites most of the time, day and night occupied with duties, unlike all the times he found himself in someone else's bed after a contract. and now, out here in the wilderness, after a hunt for his one day of leisure, lorent did not know what to do with all the excess energy.         ❝         perhaps that's why people keep chasing after you lot, even when they ought to know better.          ❞         lorent pushed himself up, slow but coiled with remnant adrenaline, rolling his shoulders back to rid of the stiffness clinging to him.         ❝         never much cared for titles,          ❞         the witcher said, pacing in uneven lines, like a predator shaking off the last traces of a chase. moss and twigs crunched softly underneath his boots, before his steps finally curved closer toward the high priest, stopping just a foot shy of the man.         ❝         fleshrender, awfully sounds like something from a bard's song. flashy, bloody, enough for commonfolk to listen.          ❞         a small chuckle, knew that titles weren't really for the ones who lived the stories, but for the ones who told them and the ones who sat and listened. tales and songs of brave men, it must keep them going for when everything felt like falling apart. the witcher then sat beside the high priest, a ghost of a curious smile curling on his lips.         ❝         and how about you, high priest ? ever gotten your hands dirty enough to earn a title ?          ❞        

[lylahammar]

I think the important thing about body neutrality and body positivity existing side by side is that body positivity is a big hurdle for people who are just starting to work on learning to love their bodies. When someone's at their lowest point, it's better to say "aim for just fine," and once they reach that level of neutrality where they can appreciate the functional ways their body is serving them, it's a lot more feasible to make the jump to seeing the visual beauty of it.

[moongothic]

Seen a few people too many discuss the concept of Dragodile Baby 2 and my hot take is that there's no way in hell Crocodile would ever detransition just to go through nine months of horrible dysphoria again, let alone go through pregnancy ever again (or allow Ivankov to even touch him, what if they died and weren't able to trans Croc's gender again afterwards? Hell naw, ain't worth the risk)

But this leaves an opportunity for a Funnier Option:

Dragon wants another baby? Sure, but it's his turn to carry it >:)

[anna-scribbles]

h-how do you ever finish any of your work? genuine question because you seem to be productive despite your agreste syndrome and I need to learn your ways. but also how do you ever finish any of your work

unclear. last night i stayed up and finished a report worth 25% of my grade at about 5am, arrived on time for my 9am lecture, and spent about half of it zoned out while thinking about seventeen year old emilie agreste. and i was one of the most active participants in the class discussion

[angelnumber27]

It’s so embarrassing and heartbreaking being in so much pain over losing someone while knowing they don’t give a fuck if you live or die. Your favorite person becoming a stranger is a special kind of hell.

[aggravatedanarchy]

Hello Kind Soul 💕

I am trying to evacuate my family from Gaza to safe area to save our lives ASAP 🙏

I Ask if you could support us by share my blog and boost my campaign?

https://www.gofundme.com/f/Stand-With-AlBalawi-Family

If you are generous enough, you can donate any small contribution, it really helps ❤

Of course!

Anyone who can donate, please consider doing so! It looks like they're currently at just under halfway to their goal.

If you're unable to donate, please consider reblogging this so that it might reach someone who can! (And hey, maybe consider reblogging it even if you did!)

Wishing you the best; I don't generally pray, but I will keep you in mine moving forward.

Here's a photo of my cat to hopefully get this more traction (and so I can put this in more tags)

[drdemonprince]

The data does not support the assumption that all burned out people can “recover.” And when we fully appreciate what burnout signals in the body, and where it comes from on a social, economic, and psychological level, it should become clear to us that there’s nothing beneficial in returning to an unsustainable status quo. 

The term “burned out” is sometimes used to simply mean “stressed” or “tired,” and many organizations benefit from framing the condition in such light terms. Short-term, casual burnout (like you might get after one particularly stressful work deadline, or following final exams) has a positive prognosis: within three months of enjoying a reduced workload and increased time for rest and leisure, 80% of mildly burned-out workers are able to make a full return to their jobs. 

But there’s a lot of unanswered questions lurking behind this happy statistic. For instance, how many workers in this economy actually have the ability to take three months off work to focus on burnout recovery? What happens if a mildly burnt-out person does not get that rest, and has to keep toiling away as more deadlines pile up? And what is the point of returning to work if the job is going to remain as grueling and uncontrollable as it was when it first burned the worker out? 

Burnout that is not treated swiftly can become far more severe. Clinical psychologist and burnout expert Arno van Dam writes that when left unattended (or forcibly pushed through), mild burnout can metastasize into clinical burnout, which the International Classification of Diseases defines as feelings of energy depletion, increased mental distance, and a reduced sense of personal agency. Clinically burned-out people are not only tired, they also feel detached from other people and no longer in control of their lives, in other words.

Unfortunately, clinical burnout has quite a dismal trajectory. Multiple studies by van Dam and others have found that clinical burnout sufferers may require a year or more of rest following treatment before they can feel better, and that some of burnout’s lingering effects don’t go away easily, if at all. 

In one study conducted by Anita Eskildsen, for example, burnout sufferers continued to show memory and processing speed declines one year after burnout. Their cognitive processing skills improved slightly since seeking treatment, but the experience of having been burnt out had still left them operating significantly below their non-burned-out peers or their prior self, with no signs of bouncing back. 

It took two years for subjects in one of van Dam’s studies to return to “normal” levels of involvement and competence at work. following an incident of clinical burnout. However, even after a multi-year recovery period they still performed worse than the non-burned-out control group on a cognitive task designed to test their planning and preparation abilities. Though they no longer qualified as clinically burned out, former burnout sufferers still reported greater exhaustion, fatigue, depression, and distress than controls.

In his review of the scientific literature, van Dam reports that anywhere from 25% to 50% of clinical burnout sufferers do not make a full recovery even four years after their illness. Studies generally find that burnout sufferers make most of their mental and physical health gains in the first year after treatment, but continue to underperform on neuropsychological tests for many years afterward, compared to control subjects who were never burned out. 

People who have experienced burnout report worse memories, slower reaction times, less attentiveness, lower motivation, greater exhaustion, reduced work capability, and more negative health symptoms, long after their period of overwork has stopped. It’s as if burnout sufferers have fallen off their previous life trajectory, and cannot ever climb fully back up. 

And that’s just among the people who receive some kind of treatment for their burnout and have the opportunity to rest. I found one study that followed burned-out teachers for seven years and reported over 14% of them remained highly burnt-out the entire time. These teachers continued feeling depersonalized, emotionally drained, ineffective, dizzy, sick to their stomachs, and desperate to leave their jobs for the better part of a decade. But they kept working in spite of it (or more likely, from a lack of other options), lowering their odds of ever healing all the while. 

Van Dam observes that clinical burnout patients tend to suffer from an excess of perseverance, rather than the opposite: “Patients with clinical burnout…report that they ignored stress symptoms for several years,” he writes. “Living a stressful life was a normal condition for them. Some were not even aware of the stressfulness of their lives, until they collapsed.”

Instead of seeking help for workplace problems or reducing their workload, as most people do, clinical burnout sufferers typically push themselves through unpleasant circumstances and avoid asking for help. They’re also less likely to give up when placed under frustrating circumstances, instead throttling the gas in hopes that their problems can be fixed with extra effort. They become hyperactive, unable to rest or enjoy holidays, their bodies wired to treat work as the solution to every problem. It is only after living at this unrelenting pace for years that they tumble into severe burnout. 

Among both masked Autistics and overworked employees, the people most likely to reach catastrophic, body-breaking levels of burnout are the people most primed to ignore their own physical boundaries for as long as possible. Clinical burnout sufferers work far past the point that virtually anyone else would ask for help, take a break, or stop caring about their work.

And when viewed from this perspective, we can see burnout as the saving grace of the compulsive workaholic — and the path to liberation for the masked disabled person who has nearly killed themselves trying to pass as a diligent worker bee. 

I wrote about the latest data on burnout "recovery," and the similarities and differences between Autistic burnout and conventional clinical burnout. The full piece is free to read or have narrated to you in the Substack app at drdevonprice.substack.com

[lilycoving]

I hope you’ve all been taking care of yourselves! Especially those of you with chronic illness. Be gentle with yourself.

[floral-hex]

okay, so lil steroid shot seemingly hasn’t done much for my breathing, but it did give me a bit of… uh… *squints at side effects* insomnia and sore butt

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Seeing ghosts in Gotham

He’s walking alone. Despite how dark it is, he’s not particularly nervous, not like the couple of people hovering in an alley.

His shift at Batburger went a little long, not that he’s complaining, he needed the money.

Everything is fine. Splendid. Fantastic. A little quiet, enough to pretend it’s a nice stroll home like it was back in Amity. Of course that all kind of goes up in flames when a dark figure drops into a crouch right in front of him. About two arm lengths away is a guy who straightens to a little taller than Danny himself. From the flickering street light across the street he can spot red, crisscross yellow, and a dark cape.

Red Robin.

Danny shakes his head and turns around.

“Nope.”

A smaller body is already standing behind him, blocking his path. The little guy with a serious face folds his arms across his chest as if challenging Danny to try to get by him.

He’s had enough tussles with Danielle to know better than to test the kid.

Danny rubs at his eyes with a hand, purposefully keeping the other limp at his side. He turns back around.

“Okay. Fine. What? What do you want?”

“You sent in a folder of information to solve the Boothe case,” Red Robin states confidently like there wasn’t any doubt it was Danny who sent it in.

He frowns. It was sent in anonymously. As in they shouldn’t be able to know it was him. Then again they are detectives in their own right even if they dress weird.

“See? This is why no one helps out the police if they’re gonna get grilled for it later on,” he complains sourly.

“That case is connected to another string of crimes we’ve been investigating. I need to know where you got your information.”

Danny glares at him for a second, actually thinking about telling him, then he remembers how quickly these guys throw people into Arkham.

“Do you not get what anonymous means?”

“What is your source?” He asks, completely ignoring Danny’s concerns.

“What are gonna do? Dangle me over the side of a building to get me to talk like you do with the criminals you guys pick up? Go ahead. See where that gets you,” he shrugs indifferently.

“You’re a runaway.”

Danny’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing into a warning as he turns to look at the pipsqueak that spoke.

“From your poorly made fake ID and the fact you don’t look close to eighteen, you must be a runaway minor. We could bring you in to the proper authorities if you prove to be… uncooperative.”

Danny sneers in annoyance.

“Seriously?” He turns back to Red Robin. Clearly the older of the two and the one leading this investigation. “This is what I get for trying to help? Blackmail?”

“Robin can be a bit… abrasive. I, on the other hand, can appreciate a different approach.”

Suddenly there’s a couple pieces of paper money in between his fingers. Danny couldn’t see how much it was from this far away, but it didn’t really change how he felt about the whole situation.

“Now bribery? Wow, you guys really got the whole good cop, bad cop thing down, don’t cha?”

“Then what do you want?”

“For you to stop wasting your time,” Danny answers with a snap.

Red Robin pauses.

“Our time,” he repeats calmly.

“Yea. Your time. This is a dead end and you should move on.”

“And why are you a dead end?” Presses Robin.

“Because,” Danny emphasizes with a look over his shoulder, “the guy you’re really looking for, my source as you put it, is dead, okay? So you can’t go ask him questions. I sent in everything that was relevant. Find another lead.”

Red Robin’s expression remains blank as he mentally calculates his next move. Danny hopes he takes his advice and let him go home.

“His name?”

Danny folds his arms over his chest, a pathetic attempt to protect himself. He chews on his lip a minute. To tell him or not to tell him. It’s not really ratting the guy out since he’s, you know, dead. Although there is a large chance Danny’s missing something and it’s all going to lead back to him somehow.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I never said you did,” the vigilante replies calmly, almost nonchalant.

Danny shifts his weight with nerves. He really wasn’t getting out of this without giving them something, huh?

“Greg,” he grinds out like it’s painful.

Silence for a few moments, then-

“As in Gregory Boothe?”

The victim of this whole conversation? Yes.

Danny’s silence is answer enough and the diverted gaze just solidified their suspicions.

“Gregory Boothe’s body turned up a month ago. Presumably he’d been dead for several weeks before that.”

Red lets that damning information hang in the air like Danny didn’t already know.

“So when did he talk to you? Last week?”

Danny jerks at the off handed joke, actually taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. He grimaces at his knee jerk response, but can’t take it back. A glance toward the vigilante shows a calculating stunned expression from what he can see ignoring the mask. He looks away again finding a discarded soda can very interesting.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Demands Robin behind him.

Danny tried to resist the urge to curl even more into himself, but knows he failed without even having to look.

“You’re a medium,” Red Robin states. It’s not even a question.

Danny flinches and shoots the guy a scared glare.

“I am not one of those scam artists,” he hisses firmly.

“No,” Red agrees, “you’re not. You didn’t ask for money or attention.”

Danny stares like it’s his first time seeing him. The lack of aggression or accusations was new and a little disarming. He was genuinely confused as to why the guy wasn’t immediately going to denial or throwing him in Arkham.

“Hell of a city to hide in when you can see ghosts,” Red Robin says in a light tone like he was teasing him. The small tug to his lips just proves it.

Danny’s shoulders practically sag at the playful demeanor. A hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yea, well… no one was gonna look for me here.”

Which was only half the reason he chose Gotham, but it was still truthful.

“So… Greg?”

“Isn’t here right now.” Danny pauses and snorts at himself. “Please leave a message.”

The vigilante does have a sense of humor because he smirks in response to the joke.

“Is there another way to… make contact? Summoning maybe?”

Danny raises an eyebrow incredulously.

“Summoning is rude,” he says like it’s common sense.

Instead he turns to the nearest reliable ghost in the vicinity.

“Hey, Susan, can you go-“

The vigilantes can’t hear how she interrupts him because she was standing there the whole time and knows exactly what he was going to ask.

“Okay, thanks. Meet at mine.”

The ghost woman nods and flies off to go hunt down dear old Greg and Danny turns to Red Robin. He makes a casual move with his head to say ‘follow me’ and continues walking down the sidewalk past the guy and further into the old, decrepit buildings he’s been squatting in.

They already know he’s a runaway, being homeless shouldn’t come as a shock to them. Even with his two jobs, he can’t afford to rent an apartment. No wonder so many people are in poverty or in the slums.

He ducks into his rundown building, ignoring the rats scurrying away, and hops up the rickety stairs, avoiding the ones that were unstable. It was a nightmare figuring out which steps were faulty. Lots of injuries.

At the top he turns to see Red easily copying his movements up the stairs while Robin balances along the railing like a tight rope. When they reach the top at the same time Danny just stares at them for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. Darn vigilantes. Why did Danny have to get caught up in this mess?

He turns, walking along the floor closest to the wall before getting to what he’s deemed his room.

It used to be an office from what he can tell. A desk pushed against the far wall and a ripped sofa he’s been using as a bed on the other wall. The floors were the most stable in this room which really won out.

Danny goes to the desk where all his papers are scattered over the surface. An organizational pattern only he understands as he shuffles through the pile he pulls from the cubby above the desk. It holds all the same information he sent into the police, just in its raw form with about twice the amount of useless information. Along with it is a few other ‘cases’ that sounds familiar that he just threw together into a pile. Maybe the genius detectives could decipher what he couldn’t.

“Here,” he says, holding out the stack. Red Robin doesn’t hesitate to take it off his hands.

There’s no chair for the desk anymore so he slides some papers out of the way to hop onto the desk to wait.

“No.”

The vigilantes look at him and he shakes his head and looks over to the side.

“No, Abby. I’m not wasting their time.”

Red Robin goes back to flipping through papers. Most of them were old business papers he had found in the office and just written on the back. Some were receipts or pamphlets or some other random scrap of paper he could get his hands on.

“Because yours was an accident. There’s nothing for them to solve.”

Robin watched him cautiously as if waiting for Danny to snap or suddenly turn violent. Instead he leans back on his hands in a vulnerable position which screamed ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone’.

“There is a lot more information here than what was submitted to the police,” Red Robin comments neutrally, purposefully ignoring Danny’s exasperated sigh and one-sided conversation.

Danny shrugs in defense, “Didn’t think all of it was relevant.”

The vigilante doesn’t respond.

Robin drifts closer as Danny gives a withering glare to the corner. He examines the mess of papers surrounding the teen in the low lighting.

“Are these all files of victims?”

Danny glances over them with a knowledgeable eye.

“Most.” He twists to point at the top left corner of the cubbies. “Those are accidents though… well, what sounds like accidents.”

“There should be more.”

Danny looks at the boy with a tilted head and raises brow.

“Not everyone sticks around,” he explains simply.

Then something draws his attention away across the room. Surprisingly his eyes don’t glaze over like someone with mental illness, instead they sharpen to see something they can’t. It resembled Constantine or Thomas.

“Greg, these guys wanna talk to you.”

What proceeds is a very awkward interaction with Danny as a middle man between victim and vigilante. Despite the need for a translator, Red Robin does in fact get a lead from the conversation.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Danny nods. “Sure, no problem. Just don’t rat me out to the police and I can help with any other case that pops up with a ghost attached.”

“You know we can help with your living situation,” Red Robin offers with a glance around the room.

“What, and put me in foster care? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“There are other options,” Robin chimes in with nonchalance that implies he doesn’t actually care.

“You don’t pass for eighteen, but if you let me make you a new ID we could say you’re emancipated.”

Danny frowns.

“I’d have to be sixteen to be eligible for emancipation.”

“You could be sixteen.”

No, he really couldn’t. Maybe if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, but Danny is fourteen with all the baby fat and innocent face that comes with it. His license now is a clear fake to anyone who sees it, but in this city no one’s gonna question it to his face. They just raise a brow, look at him, then shrug it off and roll with the lie.

“What do you want?” He demands. All this good will and wanting to help him can’t be free.

“We want to help,” Red says too easily.

Danny stares for a second, eyes narrowed as he tries to block out the multiple voices around him.

Insurance. He wants Danny to owe him so he can keep coming back for more information.

“I just told you I would help. Why are you still trying to get leverage?” He demands with irritation.

“We want to help-“

“You want me in your back pocket.”

Red Robin doesn’t give that a response, his lips pressing together to make a hard line.

Instead of pushing, he surprisingly takes a step back and heads towards the door, papers still in hand. Danny doesn’t argue.

Robin ducks out first, blending into the shadows without even a glance over his shoulder. Red Robin pauses in the doorway.

“Don’t try to skip town,” he states like an order. Like if Danny did in fact try, he would be found and brought back.

It didn’t even cross Danny’s mind.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says tiredly, too fed up with the day to defend himself.

Red Robin watches him for a moment before nodding and disappearing out the room.

Danny slumps with a groan, finally sliding off the desk to shuffle to the couch, body flopping face first into the worn cushions.

It’s silent to everyone else but Danny.

“I know.”

…

“I know, Jack, but I don’t trust them. Even if he is your son.”

Danny never noticed the bug planted by Robin on the underside of the desk.

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (Car sex)

Car sex isn’t something for König, or at least that’s what he thought before he met you. He’s huge, those long legs doesn’t even fit into the driving seat without bumping his knees, and he always has to be extra careful when shifting his body, so he won’t hit his head on the roof. Squeezing into his car is already a hard task for him, let alone trying to fuck someone within it.

You changed his mind, though. Always wearing those short skirts that barely cover your pretty ass, with a thong—or even without any underwear if you feel extra naughty that day— sparing you both from the trouble to take off your clothes in the cramped vehicle.

Just like tonight, your white skirt rides up to your hips, the exquisite pink thong he bought for you nudged aside as you sit on his lap,

“Scheiß, keep going, Süße, just like that, keep bouncing on my cock…” König’s panting heavily as he encouraging you to continue. He has lowered the seat, letting it lean back so he can give you more space to do your work. He loves the view, looking up at you fucking yourself on his fat dick, tits bouncing with every movements while you slam your ass down, taking his cock so well, and from this angle, he’s able to see how your perfect cunt wrapped around him, juices coating his cock, covering its every inches and veins as the fat tip of his emerges and disappears into it repeatedly.

“Want to come, baby, can’t last long.” Bracing yourself with both hands on his chest, you look down to meet his deep blue eyes, picking up the pace after he gets too excited from seeing the desires in your glossy eyes and rock his hips upwards into you briefly. You can’t help the moans and whimpers slipping out of your lips, not when his cock rutting into you and the veins glide against the g spots and all during its way.

“Come for me, liebe, come for me…” His hands now rest on your hips, pinning you on his cock when you nod and scream out his name in pleasure, and coaxing his own orgasm out with your warm cunt clenching down in release.

“Let’s go home?” You lift your head up from his chest and suggest, while you still pout without you even noticing when he pulls out, already missing how well it stretched you just minutes ago although he just ended up with a load inside you.

“Ja, let’s go home.” He tugs at your thong, staining with obvious white cum standing out from the pink fabric, let it cover up that swollen clit and puffy lips again and give it a pat.

A huff of laughter escaping his throat when König sets you back on the passenger seat, he can tell you’re still needy from the little pout of your plump lips. Don’t worry, Engel, he still got the whole night for you, and as an appreciation for your hard work, he’ll bend you over all your favorite places in home, fuck you nicely with his monstrous cock till you squirt and drenching him in your juices.