#could jack be as brutal as he longs to be?
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brucewaynehater101 · 16 hours ago
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So in the body swap au. We always put the swap in somewhat after everything. What if they got swapped when Bruce was just grieving Jason. I think that would highlight Tim's role as Bruce's parent/caretaker. And Bruce in a teenage body would be more prone to show his real feelings. They stay swapped for that long time. To the point when Jason attacks Bruce in Tim's body(titans tower event). Tim freaks out because that's his son.(and his body) badly injured.
Tim draws up a plan to get Jason back in the family. Jason is pleasantly surprised that "Bruce" changed his ways and is overall a better father.
Now is up to you guys if Jason discovers he attacked bruce and not the "replacement" or he tries to reconcile with "Tim" not knowing thats bruce.
Oh, you cruel, cruel anon. How I love your brilliance in this.
You are correct! The bodyswap au tends to focus on the batfam post Damian's arrival. You are also correct that it could be so fucking painful and analytical and wonderful if we start this out right after Jason's death.
Now, the question is when, exactly, do they switch? Is this pre-Tim!Robin or after he either talks to Dick or wears the suit for the first time?
Pre-Robin, there will be major issues establishing hierarchy, so to speak. Tim's this random kid inhabiting Bruce's body who swears he knew who Batman was before being put into his body. This would be difficult to navigate as far as balancing Bruce's loner/self-destructive tendencies with his distrust. At what point is Bruce willing to forsake asking for help when a complete stranger, much more an untrained kid, is piloting the Batman? Till when will Bruce try to hide this?
Now... Post Paris training arc, Tim has some experience and skills under his belt. He's got a tentative relationship with Bruce. Dick will be more involved at this stage with "Tim," though. It could be heartbreaking for poor Bruce to see his son, his son that he fights with, be so openly caring and loving not knowing it's Bruce. Also, for Bruce to watch Tim mend Dick and Bruce's relationship for Bruce? Brutal :D
To add on, for however long this charade lasts, Tim loses his childhood for that amount of time while Bruce relives his. Tim is forced to be an adult (even more so than he was as Robin), while Bruce has to go to school and shit.
Depending on how long and when this starts, we can add angst with Tim's parents! Bruce having to deal with Jack as "Tim." Jack's last moment with "Tim" actually being with Bruce.
Bet you Tim regrets maintaining the charade like Bruce wanted instead of seeking help after all of that :)
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shallowseeker · 1 year ago
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Very quickly after the start of *14x10, Jack is trying to steel himself for the potentiality of having to kill Michael!Dean:
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He's the first one to pick up the weapons: the hunters' machete, the angels' triple-pointed blade.
Then he turns and faces him, as ready as he can be.
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Michael is Jack's original nemesis. Jack is the one who's been crowing about how if Dean has to die, he dies.
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Despite Jack's subsequent loss of control late season-14, I wonder if Jack could have gone through with it or not? He's a "heart" character.
Like Dean, I think he would probably balk when it came down to doing it.
///
His earlier promise (14x02 via @spnscripthunt)
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ssahotchnerr · 7 months ago
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fluffy aaron request !! reader is on a date that is going so bad when she gets called in for a case so she shows up in her like fancy date outfit and confides in hotch about her horrible date then he offers to make it up to her and takes her out when they get back <3 maybe there’s some room for slight jealous!aaron in there somewhere tehe
it's a date
there's always room for jealous!aaron 🤭 cw; fem bau!reader, mutual pining, a touch of nervous and jealous!aaron, brief standard cm case info, fluff <3
You were the last one to arrive at the BAU, departing from the far side of town and evening traffic to blame.
Consequently, you pulled stares the second you arrived within the roundtable room. Your presence was anticipated, for one, the sound of your heels clacking against the hard floor, and:
A low whistle exited Morgan.
"Look at you." He tossed out, a tickled grin spread wide across his face.
Your current attire was a dress; a fancier, slightly more risqué choice compared to your typical office wardrobe. It was a light beige, your hair was down your back in loose curls, makeup more enhanced than your usual routine. Aaron had to (internally) admit, you looked stunning.
"Hot date?"
"You could say that."
Aaron felt his jaw move. Clench, actually.
"Sorry for cutting your night short." He apologized, forcing his sentence out deep from inside his chest. He turned towards the screen, concealing himself.
"On the contrary," You eased yourself into your chair, eagerly accepting a file from Emily. "Thank you for cutting my night short."
"With this one, you may want to rethink that sunshine." Penelope clicked her remote, illuminating the screen with the latest case photos. "Ain't no rest for the wicked."
The team collectively ran through it quickly; a brutal family annihilator, decreasing cooling off period, the gravity of the situation heightening and a panicked town. Wheels up in 30 to Oklahoma.
As the others trailed out, Penelope hurrying to her bat cave, Aaron slowed his pace. He prolonged securing his files into his briefcase, zipping it shut, leaving only the two of you in the room.
Coincidentally, you weren't in too much of a rush either.
"That bad?"
You huffed in response as your eyes found his. He was met with a hardened, utter annoyance, instead of your familiar warm liveliness.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"There's not much to talk about." The bottom of your files hit the surface of the table, loudly, stacking the few evenly together. "The guy sucked. Interrupted me every second he could. I don't think the restaurant he picked was up to code either. Thank goodness I got the call before our food arrived." You shuddered lightly, in theatrics but also genuineness. "I'm greatly looking forward to pretending it never happened."
There was a carefree airiness within your voice - attempting to wave it off, the simple acceptance of one night gone bad - but small dismay was amongst your words.
"I'm sorry." While Aaron meant his apology wholeheartedly, he couldn't help but feel relieved, for his own selfish reasons. "But I am glad you narrowly escaped the potential food poisoning."
That pulled a laugh from you, agreeing. "But it's fine, really. I didn't want to go anyways, don't know why I did." You shrugged as you disrupted the continual, shared eye contact. While the tail end of your sentence was spoken lowly, it wasn't long lasting, picking up some enthusiasm. "How was your night going?"
"Jack and I were just settling down to watch a movie."
"Which one?"
"Shrek."
Your head tilted exasperatedly, face pulling into jealousy. "Really? How fun." You whined gently, wishing your night could have been spent with the two of them. Your preferred choice of company.
"Well, he wasn't too happy it was cut short." Aaron admitted, a loose, downhearted chuckle escaping.
"You'll make it up to him. Perhaps a multiple movie feature when we're back? Shrek, Shrek 2, Shrek the Third... maybe order some pizza too." You suggested, reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly with a gentle smile. "No matter, he'll be thrilled."
Sourcing from your touch, lightning bolts dashed within his arm, feverishly. Aaron soon found himself simply studying your face, falling on the silent side. You were just, you. Extraordinarily kind, beautiful you.
"C'mon, Dave told me if I was late to the tarmac once more, he'd tell the pilot to leave and I'd have to take a commercial." You joked. Although, a small part of you feared he'd stick to his promise.
"Yeah, like I'd let that happen." He rolled his eyes, amusedly shaking his head.
The bullpen was quiet; most had gone home, the overheard lights had dimmed, the team long out of earshot. As the two of you neared the glass doors - Aaron leading - there was an urgency heightening in his chest, mere seconds away from bursting. As if each step forward, he was losing precious time. Any hesitations on the temptations he had felt for months dissolved. Now or never.
"What about you?" He asked, sweetly but timidly, finding a sudden interest in the floor.
"What about me?"
"Who's going to make it up to you?"
"Well," That caught you in a bit of surprise, your feet halting. Aaron turned, his eyes lifting. "That's a million dollar question right there. I don't see anyone lining up to take me on some extravagant outing, do you?" You forced out a laugh, your cheeks fairly blushing.
"Maybe," Aaron replied, his voice wavering with a touch of nervousness. It was rather endearing, seeing him so adorably flustered. "Perhaps the person you're looking for is right in front of you. Figuratively, at that."
A rather charmed expression formed on your face. Eyes brightening, lips pursing upwards, "Are you asking me out?"
"I'm trying." He confessed, his boyish expression just as light as yours. "So, tell me. How am I doing?"
"How about this," You spoke slowly, attempting to suppress the butterflies in your own stomach, hoping to maintain some composure within your answer. "Your next available night after your movie marathon with Jack, I'm completely and all yours."
All yours. He could get used to that.
"It's a date."
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torukmaktoskxawng · 10 months ago
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Sleeping Beauty - Lo'ak & Neteyam
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Part of the Sleeping Beauty Series (all stand-alone)
inspo
Pairing: Lo'ak/Fem!Avatar Reader, Neteyam/Fem!Avatar Reader
Word Count: 3k+
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, minors dni, aged-up characters, somnophilia, mate bites, spitting, cussing, unprotected p in v (wrap it, skxawngs), orgasm denial, jacking off, praise, dirty talk, nipple play, squirting, edging, surprise threesome (but they're only into you, not each other), mentions of creampie, cumming on external places, after care, creative use of Na'vi words to avoid saying Y/n, etc.
A/n: Adult Lo'ak & Neteyam done by the one and only @ cinetrix 💕
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It was a long day for the both of you, with Lo'ak coming back from a tedious hunt while you were out-- essentially running a bunch of errands for Max with a grocery list of plant samples he wanted you to go find. You hadn't had any time to stop and see Lo'ak as it was running late and Max needed help labeling and taking stock of said samples. Unable to properly fit in the lab in your avatar, you decide to lay her down for the night in your marui and break the connection, opening your eyes to find yourself in your human form, lying on your back in a soft-glowing link bay.  
You eagerly got to work on the samples alongside Max, hoping to get it all done before the day got too late. Day quickly turned to night and you heard the Omatikaya going about their evening outside the lab, preparing and then partaking in their communal feast. It disheartened you to know that you already missed dinner with Lo'ak, knowing that by the time you were finally done with your work, he'd likely be so tired and cuddling your unconscious avatar form. Normally, you don't sleep in your avatar, no matter how much Lo'ak begs you. It's easier to refuse him when he's away from the clan and you have the marui to yourself, but other times, well, he's very persuasive. But Max and even Norm have warned you time and time again that you shouldn't make that a habit and it's required of you to return to your human body at night, or else it'll eventually be just a husk-- a shell of your former self. So far, you've been pretty stern with Lo'ak about this and only gave into him a few very rare times, which usually start with him wanting to take you somewhere private at night so the two of you could be alone. Usually, that then leads to several rounds of orgasms that make you too tired, and oh no, suddenly you can't break your link and you're forced to sleep soundly on Lo'ak's chest. What a shame.
Sleeping beside him, especially in your avatar, is like a reward of its own, and it's so comforting. Sleeping beside him as a human is nice, sure, but with your avatar, you don't have glass obstructing your view or any kisses Lo'ak might want to sneak you. Tonight, after not seeing him all day, was something you really needed.
As much as you knew that linking for long periods of time could be harmful to your human body, you really wanted to be able to sleep alongside your mate tonight. So, with quick feet, you return to your link bay and lie down, barely letting the lid close over you before closing your eyes and forcing your mind to relax. The link connected successfully, and you were whisked away to your avatar, led by a light at the end of that familiar tunnel. 
Waking up was slow, your avatar's eyes too heavy to open just yet, but a different sensation you were unfamiliar with waking up was happening between your legs. A brutal force that was slowly going faster, shoving its way into your gummy, and surprisingly wet pussy, feeling your thighs sticky with clear liquid. Your ears finally hear through the thick fog of your mind, catching the sounds of grunts, in sync with the loud sound of skin slapping together. One brutal push had your body moving up the mat an inch, and it felt as though it pierced the roof of your cervix, causing a quiet whimper to leave your lips. Now you are finally aware of a hot, growing coil, tightening at the bottom of your stomach, threatening to snap at any moment. There was no build-up or foreplay involved for you, just immediately waking to your orgasm ready to flood your entire system.
You gasp as the coil snaps and you leak around the thick cock shoving its way inside of you, some of your juices even splashing on both yours and the abdomen nestled between your legs every time they thrust in and out, prolonging your climax and making your thighs shake around what you assumed was hips. Still bullying their way into your body even as your orgasm finally cools down, you're more aware of how hard and twitchy the cock inside you felt, hitting your sweet spot each time and punching a gasp from your lungs with each thrust.
Finally opening your eyes, you look around and find your mate sitting off to the side, leaning against the foundation of your shared marui while his fist slowly runs up and down his hard, leaking dick, the tip tinged a dull purple color, indicating oversensitivity. Your lips are dry as you try to form words, "Lo... Lo'ak?"
"Hey, mamas," he grins wolfishly, his hand's pace on his cock remaining the same speed as he casually spoke to you, "I hope you don't mind, but I thought Neteyam could spend the night."
Between your orgasm and your sleepy mind, everything was still foggy, and it took a moment before you finally processed his words. Something clicked inside your head when you finally registered that Lo'ak wasn't the one who made you cum, sitting much too far away. Lo'ak wasn't the one currently shoving his way inside your body like he wanted to permanently blend your bodies together into one being. When you turn your head to look up at whoever is currently above you, rearranging your guts, you're met with none other than your mate's older brother. And despite the sweat and crease on his brow, Neteyam has a brash smile etched on his lips when your eyes meet.
"Kaltxì," he huffs out, the word rushed and followed by a rough grunt that escapes his mouth when his hips press flush against yours, your wet walls still occasionally pulsing around his cock in a welcoming embrace, making him dizzy with euphoria.
Your head was spiraling with so many questions, unable to voice them as Neteyam fucks you dumb, too cock drunk to form the words. Over the past year, you would periodically wake in your avatar form, sore and leaking with whatever mess Lo'ak left in between your legs, and when you eventually confront him about it, you both came to the agreement that he's more than welcome to use your avatar for whatever pleasure he has while you're not linked to it... just as long as he makes it up to you later on. You want a little bit of fun of your own, after all.
Lo'ak shuffles closer to you, his cock forgotten for the moment as he reaches you and plants quick and warm kisses all over your face before moving to whisper in your ear, "I wanted to show him all the... advantages of having a dreamwalker as my mate."
Even with Lo'ak's words currently distracting you, you couldn't ignore the way your body slowly began to grow warm and tight again, Neteyam angling his hips and hitting your sweet spot each time so that you were ready for another climax. You gasp at the sensation, reaching up to hang onto something, which ends up being the back of Lo'ak's neck.
Your mate grins before kissing your ear, "I'm so proud of you, mamas. You managed to take my cock before taking Neteyam's and waking up."
That explains why your body felt so sore and sticky, feeling more full than you would imagine with just Neteyam inside you. It felt as though you had run a marathon, but there were no physical signs of Lo'ak on your body until your free hand reached up and grazed his bite scar on your neck. There's a fresh bruise forming over the mate mark, confirming Lo'ak's lewd words.
Neteyam groaned and plunged deep and frantic into you when he watched the dawning realization cross your features. You make an identical sound, the thought of the older Sully brother currently fucking both his cock and Lo'ak's seed further into your womb sending you into a frenzy of soft moans, throwing your head back and arching up into Neteyam's thrusts.
"Great Mother," Neteyam hissed, "She just gripped me tighter."
"Aw, do you like that, baby?" Lo'ak purs into your ear, his lips grazing the shell of it, making it twitch, "Do you like it when I use your holes while you're unconscious? Or do you like it when I invite someone over to use your body without your knowledge?"
You groan loudly as your answer, and the sound spurs Neteyam to reach down and lightly pinch your already abused clit to the same rhythm of his thrusts. Lo'ak moves one of his hands to fondle one of your exposed breasts, and you faintly note that you are completely naked, remembering you had fallen asleep wearing a worn-out RDA shirt meant for avatars. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that same shirt torn to pieces on the floor a few feet from your head.
Lo'ak pinches your nipple, watching it harden before moving to the other one to do the same thing. It leaves you moaning and writhing, practically impaling yourself on Neteyam's cock, your hips rising to meet his own thrusts, much to his delight. His tail unconsciously curls around your thigh, coiling tighter and tighter with each sound you make. Meanwhile, Lo'ak's tail had found your ankle and used it to keep you spread for his brother while he took one of your nipples in his mouth and the other in his hand, switching once or twice to lather both of your hardened buds in his saliva.
"Lo'ak, please..." you whine, feeling your body begin to tighten with anticipation. Neteyam felt light-headed with how hard you were gripping his length. He can barely even pull out you were so tight, holding his cock captive in your dark, wet cavern.
"What is it, mamas?" Lo'ak asks innocently, though one look at his grinning smile, and you know it was just a facade.
"N-Need to cum," you stammer.
"Hm," his yellow eyes twinkle with mischief, leaning down to mutter his reply into your lips, "That's not up to me, baby. Neteyam is taking your pleasure right now. Only he gets to decide if you cum again or not."
He takes advantage of your mouth opening in shock, spitting on your tongue, forcing you to inhale a soft gasp of surprise. His eyes dart back up to meet yours and you can't help the moan that escapes you at the heat you see in his gaze. Lo'ak leans down to kiss your lips in a dirty, sensual display of affection, exploring your mouth with his tongue while purring into your lips, your body proven affected by his actions as you unexpectedly slam your hips against Neteyam's.
The older brother's hand quickly grabs a hold of your waist to stop your movements, spewing out a song of Na'vi curses as he suddenly stops thrusting. He huffs and wheezes, any more movement from you would've led to him cumming too fast, let alone inside your pussy, which wasn't on his agenda, no matter how tempting it was. As pussy drunk as he was in this moment, he still had some sliver of respect for his brother and his wishes. Neteyam could fuck you as much as he wanted tonight, but he wasn't allowed to finish inside you.
"Stay still, yawne," Neteyam whispers breathlessly, trying to think of unpleasant things to keep himself from cumming. A small burst of confidence takes over as a smirk begins to play on his lips as his fingers slow down over your clit, "Or you won't get to cum at all."
He looks down at you, though it was hard to see your eyes with Lo'ak in the way, making out with you as your lips make vulgar sounds as they slide together, strings of saliva connecting you to your mate every time the need for air takes over. Neteyam forces himself to look away, the sight of your kiss-bitten lips, so swollen and wet, made his cock twitch inside of you.
Lo'ak gasps quietly for air before leaning down to kiss your cheek and whisper in your ear, "Go on, baby. I want you to. You can beg for my brother, it's okay... We used to share a lot of things growing up. This is hardly any different. So go ahead. Beg for Neteyam to let you cum. I don't mind."
You whimper as you feel Lo'ak's hot breath fan over the side of your neck, squeezing your eyes shut as your thighs clench around Neteyam's waist. With your mate's permission, you don't waste time opening your mouth and shamelessly begging, "Please, Neteyam. Please make me cum! Oh, fuck--"
The whine that escapes you will haunt you later with a less foggy head, but it's the only thing you could do in protest when you feel Neteyam completely slide out of your pussy, tip and all. He waits until you finally open your pretty eyes to look up at him, then he smiles.
"There you are. Keep your eyes on me, yawne, and I'll let you cum."
You nod obediently, parting your lips to moan as Neteyam gently smacks his tip over your clit and then easily slips between your wet folds. It's so hard to keep your eyes open when his cock slowly and painstakingly slides into you, shoving the tip deep inside until he's sure he's pressing against your sweet spot, then pulls out and repeats the same motion, as slowly as before.
Lo'ak moves out of your space and sits back on his feet, taking his aching cock back in hand and jerking off to the same motions Neteyam makes when entering your pussy, the younger Sully biting his lip when the motion only relieved a small bit of the torture he put himself through by trying to cum again after already doing so inside you. Lo'ak watches your face as you're brought back over the edge of ecstasy, eyelashes fluttering, cheeks flushing, and swollen mouth open agape. You keep your eyes on Neteyam, but you can see Lo'ak just in the corner of your peripheral and you know what he's doing. Without warning, you reach a hand out to wrap around Lo'ak's cock and his hips jolt as if he'd been shocked.
"Shit-!" Lo'ak gasped as you continued to pump his dick, up and down at the same pace as Neteyam's thrusts. Your mate moans loudly, thrusting into your hand to try and urge you to go faster, "That's it, baby... don't stop."
You obey, even going a little faster and smiling between moans when Lo'ak starts to whimper, just the way you like him, knowing he was close. His whimpers are quickly forgotten, even if only for a moment, when Neteyam starts to thrust harder, forcing your eyes to roll back as you feel your body burning up from the inside out, the coil unbearably tight as your toes curl.
Neteyam's hips stop, flush against yours as he growls, "Eyes."
Your gaze immediately snaps back to him, and he chuckles under his breath, "Good girl."
His fingers move side to side against your clit, then in circles. He repeats this pattern when he noticed the way your pussy clenches around his cock, a deep growl vibrating from the back of his throat at the sensation. He can't keep edging himself like this or else he'll really lose control and then he won't pull out, no matter how much he knows he has to. So, he decides not to torture you for long as he finally nods.
"Now, yawne. You can cum."
Lo'ak whines at the feel of your hand squeezing him a little tighter, his precum leaking down your knuckles, "That's it, baby, you heard him. Cum for us, mamas, that's it. Cum on Neteyam's cock. Show him what you can do."
A long series of moans and soft screams tumble from your mouth as you throw your head back and chase after your high. Slamming your hips down on Neteyam's cock and using him, you make sure he hits your sweet spot every time before your coil snaps and your liquid spews everywhere, your whole body twitching as your juices leak out from around Neteyam's cock and splashes over his abs and bioluminescent freckles, slowly dripping down his delicious blue skin.
You're still cumming when Lo'ak follows suit, gently batting your hand away so he could take his cock in hand and finish over your tits, moaning and whimpering unapologetically as his cum splatters over your chest, pearly white droplets sliding over your nipples and down the curves of your breasts. Lo'ak gasps and groans at the sight, so whiny and desperate, continuously fisting his cock and painfully holding the tip so he squeezes out every last drop onto your tits.
Neteyam's less vocal than his brother, but you still manage to catch his climax as well, feeling not one but two different spurts of cum on your body, mixed with Lo'ak's loud whines and a soft growl you were less familiar with. As you're coming down from your high, you peer down between your legs to see Neteyam gripping tightly onto his cock, slowly softening beneath his fingertips as long strings of his seed dance and paint over your stomach, collecting in your belly button. Looking up, Neteyam's face is an absolute wreck, flushed in a darker shade of color, the color of his eyes now reverting to small, tiny rings, shrouded with lust. He's clenching his teeth, keeping himself quiet, much to your disappointment, but you don't complain since he has yet to stop circling your clit, drawing out the last of your orgasm until it becomes too sensitive. Once you whine in discomfort, he immediately stops his movements. 
The marui is filled with huffing and panting, all three of you clawing for air as your bodies cool down, turning into jello and unable to properly form words yet. You have to lick your lips as they've dried, but Lo'ak takes it a step further and kisses you, slowly, passionately, and less desperate. While kissing Lo'ak you feel Neteyam's hands in the crook of your knees, untangling them from around his waist and setting them on the floor while his body heat vanishes from your skin. You're about to whine into Lo'ak's mouth in protest when a warm, wet cloth meets your raw and fluttering pussy, gently cleaning you of any fluids before moving onto your stomach and breasts. You don't miss the way Neteyam kisses both of your knees as he works at cleaning you up, making your tail bat gently against the ground. Lo'ak softly groans into your lips before pulling away, his smile lopsided and boyish before he kisses your nose.
"You did so good for us, mamas. You've never woken up when I'm in the middle of fucking you before. Neteyam must feel awfully lucky."
Both you and Neteyam hum in response, but otherwise say nothing as your lust gives way to exhaustion. Lo'ak lays down beside you and wraps you in his arms, pressing your back against his front and kissing the base of your kuru, smiling to himself when your tail gently slaps his hip. Neteyam sighs and lays down on the other side of you, the two of you facing each other but at a more respectable distance, even though you both wish for him to move closer. You settle by holding his hand in yours while relaxing into Lo'ak's embrace, smiling to yourself over what just happened as you close your eyes to sleep.
While it's true that you've never connected to your avatar when Lo'ak was in the middle of using you, after tonight, you definitely need to be able to time this better for next time. 
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Taglist: @pandoraslxna @inolaphoenix @neteyamsoare @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter @neteyamsyawntu @neteyamsl0ver @ikeyniofthetayrangi @neteyamssyulang
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johnbrand · 3 months ago
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Do You Want to Pump, Bro?
It was a simple question, one that should have been sufficed by a simple “yes” or “no” response. And yet Dylan had no idea how to respond. He had just been opening up Snapchat for the simple maneuvers: run through all the pictures, spam his responses back. The habit took a max of 30 seconds and then he was done for the day, but when he landed on his friend’s snap, prompting the question at hand, Dylan had no response.
It was strange how captivating the picture was. It was still displayed on Dylan’s phone, the picture of his friend all jocked up. Dylan could have sworn his friend had been a gay little nerd just like himself, nothing but a runt that the rest of their colleagues could pick on. But the boy, no, man Snapchat had presented him with was certainly his friend. The brutally masculine, dominating alpha Dylan had known all his life. There was no filter, no added touches, Dylan’s friend was simply the epitome of young manhood. Tanned, muscular, and rightfully superior.
This left Dylan to begin considering what his friend had meant by the question. Maybe his friend was referring to working out, using “pump” in the sense of stretching and exercising one’s muscles. But what did Dylan have to pump? With his scrawny features he was certainly better fit for intellectual over manual labor. His hands were meant to be glued to the keyboard, their features perfect for typing.
Well, not perfect. Dylan’s hands could be a bit clumsy. Being that they were so big, so meaty, his sausage fingers often had a hard time hitting the right keys. It did not help that his arms would often get in the way, so bulky that they would rub up against anything they touched. His sides, other people, Dylan even struggled to get through older doorways. Veiny forearms leading into bulging biceps and triceps, which only expanded his shoulders to accommodate. Dylan was just a wider guy.
And it was not only the fault of Dylan’s arms, to be clear. His torso too was quite the menace. That previously mentioned wide set of shoulders stretched out Dylan’s entire upper chest, structuring a powerful collarbone to perfectly align two plump pectorals. Yes, those were perfect. So firm and pronounced that they sometimes obstructed Dylan’s view if he looked down, which being 6’6 was a considerably long distance. “Perfect” was often also used to describe Dylan’s abdominals, the eight cobblestones stacked sharply beside each other as if they were metal batteries fueling his core.
So what was his friend referring to? Something about the question was catching Dylan’s eye. The swirls within the letters of the font were soothing, absorbing. Maybe his legs? Although Dylan had to admit they were already pretty jacked. Yeah, his quads were carved, his muscles expertly sharp and prominent and never covered by any shorts longer than five inches. Leading past his knees into diamond-shaped calves, admired by other gym-goers constantly. Not only was he tall, but Dylan was built. He had worked hard since high school to prevent his massive legs from becoming stick-like. 
Sure, sometimes he had prioritized getting in a sick workout over anything else, like spending time with the bros or in class, but it had worked out in the end. Without that extra effort, Dylan would not have been able to brag about his entire figure. From the giant-sized feet to the perfect lantern jaw. There it was again, that word, perfect. Dylan smirked to himself as he mentally listed other things about him that were perfect. His perfectly musky pits, his perfectly sultry baritone. People loved Dylan’s perfectly sculpted locks, and his perfectly sculpted buttocks. And the lucky ones got to love his perfect giant balls and cock.
Dylan felt his mighty python grow hard at that idea. Yeah, maybe that was what his bro was referring to. Maybe his bro wanted to pump his cock. But with that thought, Dylan’s boner faltered. No, his bro wanted to find some chicks to pump their cocks. Nothing gay or anything, just two bros getting laid together. Dylan’s cocky sneer grew wider as he began to palm himself. Yeah, his babymaker could use some attention. But, to be fair, it could always use some attention. Especially from some busty, airheaded bimbos.
Finally closing the picture from his bro, Dylan adjusted himself and casually flexed before snapping his reply shot. His massive fingers typed out the question on their own, filling out the preordered prompt before pressing the send button. Dylan did not realize though that instead of just replying to his bro, he had sent it to all his Snapchat contacts. But he did not care, he had better things to worry about. Like pumping his muscles, and getting some babes to pump his cock.
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puckinghischier · 6 months ago
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Sunburnt
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Jack Hughes x fem!reader
summary: reader gets a little too excited on her first day at the lake, resulting in a nasty sunburn
notes: hi!!!! long time so see!! my writing slump has been brutal, but i had a lil pool day today and was sitting there thinking about what a summer at the hughes lake house is like while sunbathing and this little piece popped into my head. it’s not much and probably a lil all over the place, but i hope you enjoy!! i missed all of you 🥺
[3.3k]
(also, unedited bc it’s late and i’m going to bed. i might edit it in the morning, we’ll see)
You’ve waited all year for this. You have absolutely nothing on your agenda but two straight months of lake house fun and working on your tan.
Your move to New Jersey had really put a halt to any tan building for a majority of the year. You learned quickly that the winters were long and brutal, leaving little room to feed your sunbathing addiction.
You had tried to find a salon to tan at, but you quickly got bored of the bright lights and sterile smell. You even tried spray tans a couple of times, but you always felt you had more of an orange tone than a golden one.
You didn’t have to worry about any of it for a second longer, though. You were finally in the place you craved to be year-round.
Since the season ended early for the boys this year, the Devils losing their shot at the playoffs, you and Jack had packed your things and left Jersey the second all of his current post-season duties were over with.
Jack had managed to secure himself a pass on any other post season activities the players might be pulled for. He wasn’t required to return to the city until pre-season started.
Luke and Quinn were set to join the two of you whenever they could, but with Luke playing on the U.S. national team, and Quinn’s playoff run with the Canucks coming up, it would be weeks before either brother made their way to the beloved lake house.
Ellen and Jim were also set to join at some point during the stay, but weren’t yet sure of when they could escape their work for a few weeks.
This leaves you and Jack with the entire house to yourself for the beginning of your stay. You loved the other Hughes brothers, but with Luke living with Jack and your own roommate being a homebody, the two of you were rarely ever awarded with true alone time.
You were currently putting sheets on the bed in what will be yours and Jack’s room for the next two months while Jack unloads his car.
You were nearly done when you hear the sound of a suitcase being dragged up the stairs.
“God, Y/N, I know we’re going to be here a while, but it feels like you packed your entire apartment in here.”
Poking your head out of the open doorway, you watch as your boyfriend heaves your gigantic suitcase up the double flight of stairs.
“Well, I was going to only pack a few swimsuits and pjs, but I figured I should pack some real clothes for when the rest of your family gets here.”
Jack responds with a glare as he climbs the final step, stopping to take a breather. His face was a light shade of red and there were a few beads of sweat on his top lip.
“You know, I figured since you just finished your season you’d still be in pretty decent shape, but it looks like you’re going to have to stay in the gym all summer. Maybe do a bit more cardio and weight lifting, seeing as you’re struggling to carry my lil’ ole’ suitcase,” you tease, retreating back into the bedroom to place the decorative pillows on the bed.
“Maybe if you didn’t shove a dead body in your luggage I’d be able to carry it up the stairs like a normal person. But no, you had to pack cinderblocks.” He rolls the oversized suitcase into the corner of the room, placing his own measly duffle bag next to it.
You let a small giggle slip out, walking over to where Jack was standing with his hands on his hips.
Once you reach him, you place your hands through the opening left by his arms on either side of his torso, hugging him close to you. You let your chin rest on his chest as you look up at him, his own face tilted down so he could meet your eyes.
“Thank you, my big strong hockey player boyfriend, for carrying the dead body in my suitcase up the stairs. I’ll make sure to leave your name out of all this in court,” you joke, leaning up to place a small peck on his lips.
“Oh, how kind of you. How will I ever repay you?” Jack places his own arms around you, pulling you even closer.
“Hmmm…” you pretend to think. “How about helping me rub tanning lotion on my back and laying in the sun with me for the rest of the day?”
Jack acts like he’s mulling it over, raising his eyebrows while tilting his head to one side.
“I guess I can manage that. Considering the circumstances.”
You smile up at him, pulling out of his embrace.
“Yay! Okay, I have to go get changed. Set up the chairs for us?” You ask him, clapping your hands together out of excitement.
“Your wish is my command,” Jack says with a bow, playfully rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
You turn to open your suitcase to fish out one of the many bathing suits you brought as Jack makes his way out of the room.
“Find the sunniest spot you can! I need to make up for lost time!” you shout after him, hearing a laugh as he makes his way down the stairs.
Only 10 minutes later, you walk out of the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. You spot Jack on the dock down near the lake, putting the final touches on your sunny oasis.
You make the small trek down to him, pool bag in hand and sunglasses on your face.
“Wow, all this for me?” you announce your presence as you reach the end of the lengthy deck.
Jack had set up two tanning chairs on the end of the dock, an umbrella in-between them for when you inevitably claim you’re too hot and sweaty to sit in the sun any longer. He had a small cooler set up with waters, beer for himself, and some of your favorite fruity seltzers.
He had even found a small fan that he clipped to the arm of your chair to keep you cool while you laid out in the sun. He was fiddling with the small speaker he had under the umbrella as you approached, a country song flowing out around you.
“Only the best for my little felon,” he recalls your earlier conversation, raising up to give you his full attention.
Once his eyes fall on you, his mouth snaps shut.
You had picked your skimpiest bikini, wanting to get all of the risqué swimsuits out of the way before the two of you had company later in the summer.
The number you were currently sporting was a pale pink matching set. Two tiny triangles covered your chest, while a high-legged thong covered the rest of you.
You watched as his darkening eyes raked over your body, his tongue poking out to wet his dry lips.
“Hell, baby, you can stuff my dead body in a suitcase if you’re going to look like that while doing it,” Jack breathes out.
You laugh at his response, walking over and setting your stuff on your chair, patting his bare chest as you walk past him.
You bend over to grab your tanning lotion out of your bag when you feel a light smack on your ass cheek, straightening up to find Jack standing right behind you, his hand finding its place on your exposed hip.
“Y’know, we could skip this whole tanning thing and go make use of that big, empty house while we have the chance,” Jack lowly whispers in your ear, sliding his hand around to ghost his fingers up and down the soft skin of your belly.
You lean your head back on his shoulder at the touch, allowing yourself to enjoy it for a few more seconds before turning around in his hold and placing your hands on his freckled shoulders.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea and would absolutely love to….” You trail off, standing on your tip toes and letting your lips touch his ear as you speak. Jack gulps, closing his eyes as he feels your hand slip from its spot on his shoulder and continue to move downward, almost reaching the band of his swimming trunks when you stop.
“…..after we tan” you finish, bringing your hand back up to pat his cheek, causing his eyes to shoot open.
“Okay, not fair,” he pouts as you push him back so you can continue digging through your bag.
“You told me you’d tan with me, so tan with me you shall,” you remind him, finding the bottle of lotion and holding it out to him.
Jack fulfills your wishes and very thoroughly applies the dark lotion to your skin, only being reprimanded for wandering hands a few times.
The two of you lay out on the dock for hours, enjoying each other’s company while feeling the rays soak into your skin. You talk about Jack’s team and this past season, what the upcoming season might hold, what the plan is for when the rest of the Hughes family joins, and various other light topics.
At one point you let the soft music and warmness of the sun lull you to sleep, only waking up when Jack comes over and gently shakes your shoulders.
“Y/N, c’mon, time to go inside. You’ve been in the sun for way too long, you’re going to get burnt,” Jack softly speaks to you as you come back into consciousness.
“Mmm, don’t wanna. Too comfy. Warm. Five more minutes,” you fight him, turning your head over to face opposite him.
“Nope, not an option. Can’t let you get too fried on your first day. You won’t be able to do anything for days if we don’t go inside, Lovey,” Jack uses the nickname he stole from your own family.
You grumble in protest, but peel yourself from the chair nonetheless. You notice how much lower the sun is in the sky and wonder what time it is. You pull your phone from your bag to see you’ve been out here well into the evening.
You realize you and Jack forgot to go grocery shopping after you got here, your excitement about the sunshine causing you to forget any other chores you intended on doing today.
You grab your bag and follow Jack back up the dock, admiring the way the muscles in his back are flexed due to him carrying the still full cooler on his shoulder.
“Hey, J, what are we gonna do for dinner? We don’t have any groceries and I’m not sure if you want to go out, but-“ you’re cut off by your own stomach, the growl loud enough for the two of you to hear over the music still flowing through the speaker in Jack’s pocket.
“Yeah, looks like we’re going out, huh?” Jack laughs as your cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink than they already are from the sun.
You reach the house and help unload the cooler into the fridge before making your way up the stairs to rinse off and change.
When you step into the bathroom and undress, you’re shocked to see the extremely present tan lines already formed on your very red skin. You hadn’t noticed it outside, but your entire front half is a fiery shade of red.
You lightly press two fingers to the skin in-between your breasts and notice the two white fingerprints left behind. Your eyes widen when you realize how badly burnt you are.
You exit the bathroom to grab the after-sun lotion you packed before returning and turning the shower on, making sure you remember to lather yourself in the lotion after you’re done showering.
You peel back the curtain and step under the warm stream of water, but the feeling of the water hitting your sensitive skin causes you to cry out, trying to remove yourself from the water’s harsh sting.
Your scream of pain grabs Jack’s attention, causing him to rush up the stairs and burst into the bathroom, panic evident on his face.
“Y/N, what’s wrong, are you okay?” he steps into the bathroom, looking around for the source of your scream.
“Jack, we have a problem….” You whine, pulling the curtain back to reveal the state of your skin.
Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening at the angry, red color of your skin.
“Oh Lovey…”
You stand with the curtain open, shivering despite the elevated temperature of your skin. You had turned the water to cold to avoid the searing pain again, but the cold felt like small knives poking into your flesh.
“I think we got a little too excited with the tanning lotion….” You squeak out, trying to wrap your arms around yourself, but any touch to your skin felt like fire.
Jack’s eyes fill with sympathy, but also guilt.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have woken you up sooner. You just looked so content I didn’t want to make you go inside just yet.”
“No, it’s not your fault. I should have set a timer or something. You know how I get,” you wave off his guilt, knowing you can get a little sun-drunk sometimes.
Although, you had never let yourself get this burnt before.
You blame the New Jersey climate and its lack of warm weather for your tanning needs to prevent this from happening once you do manage to get somewhere warm and sunny.
Jack still looks at you, not sure what to do for you, but not wanting to leave you by yourself, seeing as you’re stuck standing with your arms held out a few inches from your torso to avoid any unwanted skin contact.
“I don’t know how I’m going to shower, Jack. The water burns so bad, even on cold. But I have to get this sticky lotion off of me,” you whine again, frustrated that you’re burnt so badly you can’t even wash the tacky lotion off of your body.
“I’ll go get a soft washcloth, hang on,” Jack leaves the bathroom for only a second before returning with a soft, blue cloth in his hands.
He adjusts the water temperature and holds the cloth under the lukewarm water for a moment before applying some of your body wash to it and handing it to you.
You take the cloth from his hands and attempt to wash yourself, but any movement of your limbs causes your damaged skin to pull, making you whimper out in pain.
“Okay, don’t worry baby, I got you,” Jack takes the cloth from you, stepping into the shower, standing in-between you and the water streaming out of the shower head.
“Please, be careful, J, it hurts,” you whine out, eyeing the cloth in his hand.
“I got you, Lovey, trust me,” Jack tells you as he drags the cloth over your skin so lightly you’re not even sure it’s touching you.
He continues the feather-light motion slowly, until he’s cleaned your entire body.
“I have to rinse you now, okay? It might sting, but we’ll go slow,” he turns to rinse the cloth, letting it soak with water once more after there’s no traces of soap left.
You close your eyes as he squeezes the water out of the cloth onto your arm, the sting only slightly better than before, but bearable enough you only have to have him stop once.
After he rinses all of the soap off of your body, Jack turns off the shower and finds the softest towel in the cabinet under the sink. He pats your sore skin dry, then rubs the after-sun lotion all over your body before helping you into your pajamas.
“Jack, I don’t think I can wear this, hurts too bad,” you tell him when he hands you the matching button up shirt to the shorts you’re currently wearing.
“Okay, go topless, then. Won’t hurt my feelings any,” he winks at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile.
Once you were as dressed as you could stand to be, Jack helps you to the bed sitting in the middle of your bedroom. Luckily your back wasn’t burnt, so he helps you into a partial sitting position, piling several pillows behind you to prop you up.
He starts to pull the blanket over you, but you stop him, knowing anything touching your skin right know would bring you to tears.
“Babe, you’re going to get cold if you don’t cover up with something. As soon as the sun sets you’ll get the chills,” he eyes the large window on the other side of the room, knowing it’ll be dark in another hour.
“Jack it hurts too bad, I can’t,” you cry out, pouting at him.
“Okay, fine. We’ll figure something out later,” he gives in, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down.
He turns on the tv and attempts to find something for the two of you to watch when your stomach growls again, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten since this morning.
“Jack, I’m still hungry.”
“Do you want me to go grab something?”
“No, don’t leave me here by myself, what if my skin starts melting off?” you exasperated.
Jack laughs at you. “Your skin isn’t going to start melting, but fine. I’ll go find the take out menus and see who delivers.”
Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of your Chinese food.
Jack goes to grab the food and bring plates upstairs so the two of you can eat in your bed, knowing you don’t feel like trying to walk downstairs to the dining room table.
He sets everything out like a small buffet. You manage to sit up a little straighter and try to reach for a plate, but the movement brings a new stinging warmth to the skin of your arm.
“Jack, I can’t even reach for a plate, how am I supposed to fill said plate and feed myself,” you say, frustrated.
Jack doesn’t say anything, but he takes the plate you were reaching for and puts all of your favorites on it. He grabs a fork and moves so he’s sitting cross-legged beside you.
“Here, open up,” Jack brings a fork full of food towards your mouth, motioning for you to open your mouth as the fork gets closer to you.
You open your mouth and he shovels the food in, going back in for more food once you had chewed and swallowed the first bite.
“Are you really going to sit here and feed me that entire plate?” you ask him, slightly embarrassed that this is how your first night at the lake house is going.
“Well, yeah. You said you were hungry, right?” Jack responds, looking at you as if he thought your question was stupid.
“I am, but you don’t have to do this. You can eat your food. I’ll figure out something. I feel like a kid sitting here being fed,” you tell him, wishing you could cross your arms the way you usually do when you pout.
“Y/N, you’re sitting in front of me with no shirt on. I’m trying my hardest not to stare at your boobs right now because I feel it would be wildly inappropriate to be sporting a boner when my girlfriend is clearly in pain. I can assure you, the last thing I’m thinking about right now is you resembling a kid,” he says, seriousness lacing his tone.
You laugh at your boyfriend, causing the skin on your belly to burn slightly, but you don’t care. You love how Jack can always make you feel better about any situation, even one as embarrassing as this.
“Now, c’mon and open up. Your food is gonna get cold,” he fusses, bringing another fork full of food towards your mouth.
He feeds you an entire plate of food, then eats his own. He takes the dishes and leftovers downstairs before coming back up to take a shower of his own.
Once he’s done with his own shower, he brings the bottle of after-sun back into the bedroom and lathers your skin in it once again, hoping this will help soothe your skin a bit more before the two of you try to sleep.
He settles in the bed, and as he predicted, you’ve started violently shivering.
“Can I please put a blanket on you now? I know you said it hurts, but you’re going to shiver right out of this bed if you don’t cover up,” Jack pleads, hating to see you shaking like this.
“Yeah, we can try. But maybe just the top sheet only for now,” you tell him, still apprehensive.
He gently pulls the top sheet over your body, letting it fall right at your collar bone.
You thank him for that second coat of after-sun because you can actually bear the thin cotton on your skin this time.
“Better?” he asks, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from you.
“Better. Thank you, Jack,” you tell him, causing him to relax a bit.
“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he shrugs it off, moving to get himself settled on his side of the bed.
“No, I mean it. I’m sorry I let myself ruin our first night here. I just got too eager, I guess. Forgot I haven’t laid out in a while.”
“It’s okay. Really. It’s partially my fault, too. For letting you sleep for so long without making you move under the umbrella with me,” he turns the light off, sliding down next to you, but not touching your skin.
“Well, I promise, I’m wearing sunscreen and sunscreen only for the rest of the summer,” you swear to him, moving your hand to loop your pinky through his, not being able to handle not touching him.
“I mean, I’m all for it, babe, but I don’t know how my parents and brothers will feel about that,” Jack quips back. You can hear the amused smile on his face, even though the room is pitch black.
“Goodnight, Jack.” Is all you say, rolling your eyes and smiling even though you know he can’t see you.
Jack lets out a laugh, squeezing your pinky.
Your skin may be on fire due to your love of sun soaking, but your heart has been sunburnt for years; Jack’s own personal sunshine setting it on fire every second you’re together.
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elizabethsnuts · 4 months ago
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hiii, i love your fics so much omg. for your toddler!reader ones do you think maybe you could write one where spencer takes his daughter to a bau family gathering type thing but instead of playing with the other kids there she just wants to stay with spencer the whole time? or something like that? its totally okay if you dont want to write that ofc. i hope you have a good day <3
By Your Side
Spencer Reid x Daughter!Reader
Summary: The team has a get-together but you refused to move away from your dad the whole night.
———
The team was having another one of their get-togethers, a break from the usual brutal cases and endless case files. Spencer had taken you with him obviously, JJ had taken Henry and Hotch had Jack with him.
Henry and Jack were playing with each other, taking food off the tables and running around. You didn’t want to stray too far from Spencer, opting to stay right next to him, you weren’t into the whole play fighting Henry and Jack were doing at the moment anyway.
Spencer knelt down to your level, watching your tiny hands fiddle with your little top. “Hey, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna go play with Jack and Henry?”
You shook your head quickly, holding onto Spencer tightly. “No, stay with Daddy.”
Spencer had a feeling that you didn’t want to get involved in whatever rough games Henry and Jack had decided to play and maybe some separation anxiety. You weren’t the most extroverted toddler, usually staying right beside Spencer and not talking, but you did enjoy playing with Jack and Henry. That was when they weren’t trying to tackle each other to the ground.
Spencer nodded softly and smiled, picking you up and holding you in his arms. “That’s alright, you can stay with me.”
You stayed in Spencer’s arms most of the night, listening as he talked with the team and rambled on about whatever statistics were passing his head. When it came to dinner time, Spencer had helped fix up a plate with some food for you before he got his own. However, that did mean you had to sit at the kid's table to eat and you were not happy about that.
“No! Eat with Daddy!” You cried and tried to run back over to Spencer who was getting his food sorted. He had put you in the little plastic chairs next to Henry and Jack to eat your food.
“Y/N, sweetheart, it’s only while you eat your food and then you can come right back to me. I swear, honey.” Spencer said gently, taking your tiny hand and bringing you back over to the table.
You tried to resist but you were still just a little toddler and you weren’t stronger than Spencer. He didn't want to hurt you so when you started tugging away from his hand, he picked you up and placed you on the chair. You couldn’t do anything other than sit there and cry.
Henry noticed you weren’t eating your food so he quickly pinched some off your plate and onto his own with a smile. JJ, who was keeping an ear on the conversation at the table with the team while also keeping an eye on the kid's table, noticed Henry’s little food-stealing act.
“Uhm, excuse me. We don’t steal people’s food, Henry. That’s Y/N’s dinner, not yours. Put it back please.” JJ said gently but also with a firm tone.
Henry sighed and gave you the food back with a long huff. You didn’t actually care that he stole your food, you were too upset to even eat.
“Daddy!” You cried loudly, looking at Spencer at the team table. You just wanted him, you didn’t want to eat your dinner and you certainly didn’t want to watch Jack and Henry shove food in their mouths with their unsanitary hands.
Spencer eventually caved, he couldn’t bear to hear your desperate cries for him anymore. He quickly scooped you up from the kid's table and sat you on his lap, grabbing your plate of food as well. “You’re alright, sweet girl. You’re okay. Daddy’s got you and we’ll eat together, okay?”
You started to calm down once you were back in Spencer’s arms, you nodded slowly and sniffled. You slowly but surely ate your dinner which was a win since you were usually very picky.
Spencer smiled and kissed the top of your head. “You did a good job eating! I’m so proud of you, you nearly finished your whole plate!”
The rest of the night was just the team chatting and discussing things together while two crazy preschoolers were throwing themselves around the bullpen. You fell asleep on Spencer’s shoulder before the clock even hit 9 at night, you were spent but content now that Spencer was back holding you. He’d always try to be by your side.
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hairyjocktf · 9 months ago
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New Recruit
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Luke was at a low point in his life. He’d graduated high school but wasn’t smart enough to get into college. He had tried working some retail jobs around but he never had the work ethic to last long in those. He had similar problems in other gigs. It had been months of him bumming around and his parents had finally had enough, he was officially out of their house. With few options left, he was desperate. While walking down the street one day he saw an ad for the military, boasting stable careers and plenty of benefits. He’d played a couple seasons of sports in school and felt like he might be able to at least pass the initial evaluation, and out of near desperation he decided to try and enlist.
He made his way to the army office nearby that had been listed in the ad, and to his surprise there was no trouble. They did a quick physical evaluation and he was good to go, ready to sign up for boot camp. Luke was nervous; there was no coming back from this point. He thought about it for a couple minutes while being stared down by the recruiter, realizing he really couldn’t think of a better option. And so he signed the contract, unsure of what was to come. 
Two weeks later he was on a bus out to the base to start his boot camp. Luke didn’t know what to expect; he’d heard numerous stories about how brutal this training would be to weed out people. The bus was filled with the strangest mix of people he’d ever seen. Some guys looked like they’d been using steroids since they were 12, some looked like they belonged in an accounting department, and some he just couldn't pin down. Regardless of who surrounded him, Luke felt out of place, and he was only growing more nervous as the bus sped through the dense woods. After what felt like hours they finally cleared the trees and he saw the huge fences that would enclose the next few months of his life.
The buses pulled into a large dirt clearing at the center of the base where they forced everybody out. A huge and built man addressed the new recruits with his booming voice.
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“Privates! Welcome to Fort Eagleton!” he shouted above the noise of disembarking men. “I am Drill Sergeant Thornton, and I’ll be in charge of whipping you lot into shape!”
Luke gulped, it looked like those rumors had been true. He was in for a world of hurt.
“You’ll be under my watch and command for the next ten weeks, learning what it takes to be a soldier. First, I want to see what I’m working with. Privates! See those chalk markings on the ground? Space yourselves on them for inspection!” 
His loud voice echoed across the clearing. The men all scrambled to stand in position, each on a chalk marking that were spaced four feet apart in a grid. Luke found an open one unfortunately near the front of the pack. He glanced nervously around at the others. Some were standing at the ready like they had been born for this, but the rest also looked around with worried looks on their faces. Their attention was brought back to the front by the thundering voice of the sergeant. 
“Listen up, privates! Here with me I have Corporal Evans, a prime example of what you should all strive to become in the next ten weeks!” The sergeant gestured to a tall and strong looking man next to him. Evans was at attention in full uniform, but Luke could tell the man was absolutely jacked underneath. He could see how the coat was straining against his huge, broad shoulders.
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“He is the epitome of a soldier, and what all men should model themselves after,” the sergeant continued. “I will make a real man out of each of you! That is my promise as your Drill Sergeant. However, some of you may take to that easier than others.” He began walking through the rows of men in plainclothes, observing each of them with scrutiny. Luke’s eyes went wide as the sergeant stopped directly in front of him.
“You, boy. What’s your name?” The sergeant did not quiet his voice even when right next to him. 
“Luke,” he said shakily, “Luke Peterson.”
“Private Peterson, you may have passed the exam to get here, but I hold doubts that you are up to the challenge that is basic training,” the sergeant said while making intense eye contact. “Do you think you have what it takes to become a soldier?”
“Yes.. sir,”
“Well! Let’s put that to the test,” he boomed again. “Evans! Bring me this private’s new uniform.”
Within seconds, the man was at his side holding a folded army uniform. Thornton took it and handed it to Luke.
“Put this on, boy! Let’s see how you’ll fit in here,” he said with an almost sinister twinkle in his eyes. 
Luke had no choice but to then strip down to his underwear in the middle of the crowd. The eyes of the dozens of men he had entered with were burning holes in him as he changed into the fatigues. They immediately felt too large for him but he continued as the sergeant watched impatiently. He pulled up and belted the pants before buttoning the shirt closed. They were at least two or three sizes too big, Luke thought, and he looked ridiculous in the oversized fatigues. He laced up his boots which were also excessively large and stood back up to address the sergeant’s burning gaze.
Out of nowhere, Luke suddenly felt like he’d taken a punch straight in his stomach. He collapsed to the ground on his hands and knees, gasping for air as the pain in his stomach did not lessen, but began to spread. His torso felt like it was on fire, and he groaned in distress as his body was overwhelmed. Everyone else in the clearing was watching in awe as Luke’s body began to grow. His spine lengthened slowly, back widening and shoulders broadening. His legs began to stretch and grow longer, adding a good eight inches to his height. He began packing on muscle like he’d been working out for a decade, limbs inflating in seconds adding strength and size. His chest pushed out into two meaty pecs, which finally caught Luke’s attention from the incredible soreness he felt as his body exploded in size. His eyes widened as he watched his own body fill out the fatigues that had moments ago been far too large, arms swelling to fill the sleeves and chest pushing against the now tight shirt. His legs also bulked up, adding 20 pounds of muscle as quads and hamstrings grew in and thickened. His feet expanded, pushing against his large boots. He felt a sharp pain shoot through his jaw as it widened, giving him a square and masculine face. The pain began to subside and Luke managed to stand back up, this time matching the sergeant in height. 
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The drill sergeant addressed him, “Good start soldier.” He had a hint of a grin on his stern face.
Luke was angry and confused, “What the hell was that? What did you do to me? What do you mean good start…” His sentence trailed off as he felt an intense tingling feeling arise on his chest. Underneath his tight uniform shirt, in the center of his massive pecs, tiny brown hairs began to poke out of his skin. The hairs started out thin and wispy but quickly thickened as they grew longer, spreading out across Luke’s mountainous chest muscles. The hairs erupted across the expanse, burying the skin under a dense layer of fur as they grew thicker, longer, and tangled together. Especially dark hairs sprouted around his sensitive nipples, causing Luke to let out a moan as he brought his hands up to massage them. The crowd watching Luke was stunned at his actions in front of the sergeant. Some of the men closest to him could see what looked like thick hairs beginning to poke out from above his shirt collar. The fur on his chest had spread up across his collarbone and had started peeking up onto his neck, where it was finally visible. The sergeant stood watching with a smirk as Luke was lost in a world of pleasure, rubbing his nipples as hair began taking over his body. The hair was not confined to just his chest, and shot down south across his stomach, coating his new abs and muscle in the same thick rug. The hair was growing in so densely that it started to push out through cracks and seams in his uniform. 
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The other privates were speechless watching this erotic display in front of them, not knowing what to do. A few noticed Corporal Evans, who was standing behind the drill sergeant, subtly mimicking Luke’s actions, seemingly lost in his own bodily pleasures as his hands roamed his body. Luke’s breaths grew louder as the hairs continued climbing up his thick neck, creating a river of hair traveling up from his chest to his square jaw. He’d never had much stubble before, just some light peach fuzz, but that was changing. The soft hairs were overrun with thick, wiry, testosterone-fueled growth that coated his jaw in an incredibly dense beard. His upper lip was next, first darkening with the shadow of thick stubble before the hairs pushed out and completed the full beard on his face. Luke’s hands moved upwards, stroking his fingers through the long wiry hairs that now covered the lower half of his face. His eyes closed as the pleasurable sensation began to control his actions, wanting to experience every ounce of this growth. The beard growth was very noticeable to the crowd as well, as men further away began to break formation and inch closer to see what was happening to Luke. Evans was in the back, feeling the scratchy stubble on his own face as it pushed out a couple millimeters, just enough to leave a dark five o’clock shadow.
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Unbeknownst to the crowd, Luke’s body was continuing to change under his uniform. Luke could feel every new hair sprout out of him as the hairs spread, conquering more of his newly buff body. His armpits tingled as the follicles there went into overdrive, pumping out hair after hair. What had previously been a sparse grouping of hairs quickly became a thick tuft of sweaty, musky hair. Dark and wiry hairs pushed out of bare skin, spreading out and covering his pits in a full manly bush, already dense enough to trap his body sweat and stench. Luke stuck one hand into his shirt to scratch the growing forest in his pit before pulling it out and smelling his fingers. He shivered from the euphoric smell of his own musk that was only growing more potent. The pit hairs continued to spread and even connected with his chest hair, creating a seamless rug across his whole upper body. 
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The wave of hair growth continued advancing across his muscular body, with hairs beginning to pop up across his broad shoulders. They were joined by more and more hairs, giving Luke a thick coating across his traps. The hairs began to crawl down his brawny back, knitting a rug as they grew thick and tangled across his shoulder blades. As the hairs advanced down his spine they also began covering his arms, where long dark hairs were pushing out across his triceps before utterly engulfing his forearms in dark fur. Luke watched as the thick hairs poked out of his sleeves, ensuring anyone would know even in full uniform how hairy he was under there. That is, if they didn’t notice his large, calloused hands, which had their own small carpet of hairs sprouting across the backs. Luke could feel as the hairs creeping down his back reached the bottom, where a bushy tuft sprouted up just above his waistband. He subconsciously knew what was next, and moments later he was overcome with bliss as his thick ass cheeks sprouted their own rug of dense curly hairs. He could feel how the thickest, longest, and darkest hairs were pushing out of his crack, and he reached his hand into his pants to feel the silky fur that filled the gap. As all eyes were on Luke, Corporal Evans was still engaged in his own stimulation, feeling his pit hairs push out a little more, his back get a little more hairy, and his ass plump up just a bit more.
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Luke felt his now size 16 feet heat up in his boots, beginning to grow itchy. Hairs were crawling out of the tops of his massive feet, popping out of his thick toes shortly after. The hairs climbed up his thick legs from his feet, coating his calves in dark hairs before engulfing his massive thighs. The hairs came in thicker and darker as they neared his groin, where his formerly modest bush began to double, then triple in size. Thick pubes were sprouting up all across his crotch, enveloping the area in a dense forest of curly hairs. Luke let out another moan at the sensation and shoved both his hands into his pants. He felt the coarse hairs sprouting through his fingers as his bush continued to spread outward. His cock began gushing precum before it too began to grow. It had almost been swallowed up by the immense bush, but now it hardened and pushed out, growing longer and thicker. Luke grasped his growing member and felt the hair climbing up the shaft as it continued to push further out of his bush. He felt his balls swell in size and drop a little farther down, becoming coated in hairs just like the rest of his groin. 
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Luke was overcome with euphoria, and the animalistic instincts took full control as he began stroking his nine inch cock with both hands, each pump blasting his brain and body with pleasure. The sergeant and everyone else watched as Luke jacked off to his own transforming body right in front of them, stunned into silence. Corporal Evans, still unnoticed, slid his own hand into his pants to deal with his rock hard problem. Luke kept at it, moaning louder and louder as precum poured out of his cock. Every stroke seemed to make him grow just a tad bit larger, just a little hairier. Finally, after a few minutes of being overcome by pure ecstasy, he erupted, a fountain of cum spraying out covering his new uniform in sticky white semen. Some of it even got on the sergeant, who seemed unfazed. Evans grunted quietly as he pumped a massive load directly into his jockstrap that he had on under his uniform. He wasn’t prepared for quite how large it would be, leaving a wet spot on the front of his trousers and leaking down his leg. Luke panted as his mind returned to his body, finally taking stock of the situation and realizing in a moment of panic what had happened.
Before he could say anything Sergeant Thornton started to laugh. His roaring laughter pierced the awkward silence that had overtaken the space for the last while. He walked over to Luke and slapped him on the back.
“Atta boy! That’s what I like to see,” He said to Luke with an uncharacteristic smile. The crowd was shocked. That was not the response they’d expected in the slightest. 
“You’re fit to be a real soldier now, and I trust you’ll serve us well. A fine specimen!” he turned to the crowd. “Look here, privates! This is a real man, a bastion of strength and masculinity who can take a beating and give some hell.”
Luke too was stunned. He was scrambling to process what had just happened to him, and that it was seemingly planned by the sergeant the whole time. His thoughts were cut short by the sergeant addressing him again.
“Well son, you’ve done good today. We’ll have to clean up that scruff of yours to get you in regulation,” he stroked Luke’s new beard with his hand, sending a bolt of lightning directly to his still semi-erect cock. “Corporal Evans will help you out with that, and with cleaning up your fatigues,” he said as Evans approached from behind. Luke noticed the darker stubble on his face and the dark splotch in his bulging crotch. 
The drill sergeant once again spoke to the crowd, “The rest of you will be assigned living quarters and shown the areas for training. I want you all back here at exactly 1300 hours!”
Evans ushered Luke away from the grounds and into his own private quarters, where he stripped out of his cum soaked uniform and finally got a look at himself. He was taller, absolutely built, and incredibly hairy. It turned him on in a way he never knew he could be, his cock once again rising to full mast. He rubbed his hands through all of his new fur, unable to believe what he was seeing.
“I was in your shoes when I enlisted,” Evans said to him. Luke turned to face him and saw a slight blush in his cheeks, and his bulge was even more noticeable. “I’ll make sure you get cleaned up and everything, but how about first we just enjoy the new you in its raw form,” he said, stepping right up to Luke and wrapping his hand around Luke’s cock. Lost for words, Luke pulled off Evans’ hat and leaned in for a kiss, grabbing his bulge and pushing him against the wall.
Maybe bootcamp wouldn’t be that bad.
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This was my longest and most ambitious story yet! Hope y'all enjoy it and thank you for nearly 400 followers in just a month! Feel free to dm or send an ask if you have ideas for future stories.
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keanusbabydoll · 3 months ago
Text
longing
paring: peepaw!myers x fem!reader
warnings: 18+content, angst, mentions of murder, michael himself is a warning, smut, rough sex, no aftercare, choking, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, little to no foreplay, huge age gap, sadism if you squint
a/n: probably not the best smut i’ve written but it was 3am and i was tired :o
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it was a chilly night in haddonfield, the air thick with an unsettling silence. the streets were eerily empty, except for the flickering jack-o'-laterns on porches and the occasional sound of children laughing in the distance. on one street, however, the atmosphere was anything but calm. a mob of angry residents had gathered, their faces set with determination and a hint of desperation. they were waiting, waiting for the moment of retribution against the shape that had haunted their town for decades.
among the mob were you, a young woman, confused and scared. you clutched a baseball bat that a stranger gave to you nervously, your knuckles white from the tension. you had lost friends to michael myers, the embodiment of pure evil, but you couldn't shake the feeling off that what those people were about to do wasn't right.
the mob's plan was simple: lure michael myers into a trap and end his reign of terror once and for all. karen, your best friend's mom, also daughter of laurie strode, was the one to set the bait, stepping out of the dark with michael's mask in her hand.
michael, unmasked and exposed, approached the trap with his usual silent menace. he reached down and grabbed his mask, pulling it on with a tight grip on his knife. the mob surged forward, ready to attack, but you hesitated. you let the bat fall from your hands and took a few steps back, your heart pounding in your chest. as the people descended on Michael, your eyes widened in horror. you knew this wasn't right. even after everything he has done.
a scream tore from your throat, halting everyone in their tracks. even Michael's blank, soulless eyes seemed to turn towards you.
"stop! this isn't right!" you yelled. "he's also just human!"
the people turned their hateful gazes on you, their faced twisted with anger and disgust. your words defending michael led to you being grabbed roughly, hands tied behind your back. you were thrown to the ground next to Michael, the cold pavement digging into your knees. you thought it was over, you would be slaughtered right next to the shape.
but Michael had other plans.
with a swift, brutal efficiency, he fought back, killing everyone who dared to attack him. blood splattered the ground, screams filled the air, but you were untouched. when the gruesome scene in front of you ended, Michael's cold eyes fixed on you. his knife still clung tightly in his hand. your breath caught in your throat as he approached, your body trembling with fear. you closed your eyes, expecting the end.
instead, you felt the tightness around your wrists disappear. your eyes snapped open in shock to see Michael standing over you, his head tilted in that unsettling way. you cautiously got to your feet, taking a few steps back. but Michael didn't move to harm you; instead he pointed at his wounded chest, silently asking you for help. hesitating, you nodded, your heart still pounding. in a flash Michael lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to an abandoned cabin on the outskirts of town.
the cabin was a relic of a bygone era, its walls creaking with age and neglect. you carefully tended to Michael's wounds, using whatever supplies you could find. you knew that this was incredibly wrong, but somehow it felt so right to you. feeling a strange sense of duty and compassion, you stayed with him. michael, for his part, was confused by your gentleness, your care. he was used to hate, to killing, not kindness.
over a few months, you and Michael settled into an uneasy coexistence. you both moved into your house, hidden away form the prying eyes of the world. you took care of him in every way that you could, cooking for him, buying him proper clothes. the shape was perplexed by your tenderness and your determination to protect him. he didn't understand why he allowed it, why he didn't kill you like everyone else. something about you was different.
as time passed, you found yourself falling for the masked man. you couldn't explain it, but there was something about Michael that drew you in. despite his cold exterior and violent tendencies, you believed that there was more to him. he was still a mystery, a cold, silent presence in your home. maybe it was his quiet strength, his stoic nature that intrigued you. michael, too, felt a strange pull towards you, though he didn't understand it.
months turned into a year, and your relationship became more complex. your feelings deepened, but Michael remained distant, cold. you wanted more from him, needed more. you had done everything you could to make him feel at home, to show him that he was safe with you, that he could trust you. but Michael remained closed off, distant.
he didn't allow you to touch him, rejected your attempts at affection. you obviously grew frustrated, longing for his touch, his love. you just wanted something in return. of course you understood it somehow. Michael was a lost, misunderstood soul, hated by everyone and he wasn't used to someone actually caring for him. but still you expected just a little bit of affection from him and the longing you felt for him grew stronger each day, and with it, your frustration.
Michael noticed your change in behavior but didn't understand the reasons behind it.
one night, you were sitting on the couch, a horror movie playing on the tv. you barely paid any attention to the film, your mind too preoccupied with the man sitting beside you. you glanced at him, his tall, imposing figure taking up most of the couch, his mask still in place. even with the mask on you found him so sexy, so attractive.
you couldn't take it anymore.
the need to feel him close, to know that he was real, that he cared for you in some way, was overwhelming. hell, you wanted his man to finally fuck you. you've been together for more than a year now and nothing sexual happened even in the slightest bit.
you scooted closer to him, trying to snuggle up against his side, but just as you feared, he pushed you away with slight force, a growl leaving his mouth.
as always.
"Michael..." you began, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. "I cant keep doing this."
he didn't respond, not even looking at you. his eyes kept fixated on the tv, but you could see the tension in his posture, the way his hands clenched into fists.
you stood up almost immediately, your frustration boiling over.
"you don't care, do you?" you snapped, tears welling in your eyes. "I've done everything for you! I've given you a home, cared for you, and I... I feel so much for you, but you just-" you broke off, voice catching in your throat. "I can't live like this, not with a relationship where I'm the only one who feels anything."
you turned to leave, the tears now spilling over, but before you could take a step, Michaels hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. you gasped, turning back to face him, your heart pounding strongly against your chest. he pulled you back, his grip firm but not painful, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes that you hadn't seen before - a flicker of emotion, something raw and vulnerable.
then, to your shock, Michael reached up and slowly pulled off his mask.
your breath caught in your throat as you looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time. you had seen him unmasked before, on the night you met, but it was dark and everything happened so fast.
his face was scarred, rugged, and a white, trimmed beard covered it, but he was the most handsome man you had ever seen. there was a gentleness in his eyes that took you by surprise. you had expected coldness, detachment, but instead, you saw, regret, and something else - something that made your heart ache.
"Michael..." you whispered, voice trembling.
he obviously didn't reply, but the way he looked at you, the way his hand still held your wrist, told you everything you needed to know. slowly, cautiously, he pulled you even closer, until your faces where just inches apart. your heart raced, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you waited, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. you didn't fully understand what was happening and why Michael acted like that suddenly. but you weren't complaining in the slightest bit. that was exactly what you've wanted for longer than a year.
then, finally, he leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss. it was tentative at first, almost like he wasn't quite sure what to do, but when you responded, pressing your lips more firmly against his, he deepened it. the kiss was filled with a desperation, a need that had been buried deep within him for so long. one of his hands moved to your waist, pulling you on top of him, while the other one rested lazily on your thigh. and for the first time since you had met, you felt his warmth, his desire.
the heat began to pool in your panties, the whole situation was turning you on way too much. when his hand wandered from your waist to your ass and gave it a harsh squeeze, you gathered all your courage and began grinding down on him, feeling his bulge already pressing up into you. a muffled moan echoed off the walls, when your clothed clit rubbed deliciously against his erection. you could feel Michael tense up as well as his hand squeezed even harder and his breaths became heavier. you increased your speed and pulled away from his lips, head falling back in pleasure.
when you returned your hazy gaze back to him, he was already watching you like his prey. his expression was cold but his eyes were sparkling with lust and hunger. hesitatingly, you put your hands on his chest, slowly gripping the zip of his blue coveralls, pulling it down his chest. your hands felt the warm skin beneath it and held on tight to his shoulders.
but michael had other plans. he didn’t want to keep up your bullshit of preparation. with a tight grip on your waist he roughly manhandled you on your back. he crawled on top of you, grabbing the collar of your shirt as he tore it apart, making you gasp out in shock. he tossed it away before he quickly got rid of your bra. then, he ripped open your pants, adding it to the pile of clothes.
your heart was beating rapidly and the ache in your core started to get unbearable. you waited so long for this moment - too long.
“please michael.” you whimpered out as you pushed your hips up, signing him that you need more.
he grunted in response, getting up from the couch and pulling down his coveralls and boxers. your eyes almost fell out when you saw his length. it was thick, long and veiny. something so big you’ve never seen before. with the blink of an eye he was on you again. his hands grabbed your thighs, spreading them as wide as possible. you curiously propped yourself up on your elbows, as you watched him pushing your panties to the side.
as he saw your wet, glistening pussy, you could have sworn you saw him licking his lips. michael put both of his hands beside your arms, trapping you, before he lined his cock up with your entrance. your eyes searched for his and when he finally looked at you, he plunged his whole length inside your hole with one harsh thrust- his dick filling you to the brim and stretching you to your limit. a scream tore from your throat and your eyes were shut at the stretch. waves of stinging pain cursed through your whole body and your walls clenched tightly around him.
but michael wouldn’t let you get used to it. he isn’t that type of man.
as soon as he felt his tip kissing your cervix, he began to rut into you with a fast pace, never planning on going gentle. loud moans and cry’s filled the air as you tried to get used to his size which was almost impossible because of his harsh pounding. his hips just moved faster and faster, almost making you see stars.
“slow down michael.” you choked out as you lay back down again. in reply, michael surged forward and wrapped a calloused hand around your throat tightly, almost cutting off your airway. your eyes shot open at the sudden lack of air and you looked at him with pleading eyes. but michael didn’t show mercy. how could he have? he’s the shape of haddonfield. nobody gets to tell him what to do.
in a matter of seconds, michael had you up in a mating press, the new position allowing him to go deeper, his tip pressing against your g-spot deliciously. “oh fuck! you feel so good michael.” you yelled out, hands gripping on his arms for support. by now you were used to his size and all you experienced was pure pleasure. the both of you moaned out as he went in and out of your tight cunt. the hand that squeezed your throat now wandered down to your breast and kneaded it roughly, only adding to the intense sensations he’s giving to you.
michael let out a low growl, his thrusts becoming more desperate, chasing his own release. your nails dug sharply into his flesh and you slowly felt your orgasm building up. with his pelvis constantly clashing against your puffy clit, you only reached your high faster. “please michael let me come.” you pleaded, eyes rolling to the back of your skull.
suddenly he pulled out of you and before you could even comprehend it, he threw you on your stomach, ass up in the air. immediately, he reentered you, his thrusts just as harsh and fast as before. your face was mushed up against the couch, whimpers and high pitched moans leaving your lips. michael’s hands found their way to your hips, pulling your body roughly back, meeting his own thrusts.
this position made him go even deeper, rougher and when you felt his tip constantly brushing against your sweet spot, you tripped over the edge. a pornographic moan rang through the room as you came with such a great force, almost passing out from the intensity.
your orgasm made him go feral and he began to pound into you with an animalistic pace, inhuman even- to a point were it began to hurt. his hips snapped so harshly against your ass, you couldn’t take it anymore.
“too much. s-stop.” you begged, voice just above a whisper. with an answering growl, he aggressively gripped the roots of your hair and pulled your body up, forcing you to arch your back uncomfortably. a string of loud cry’s came out of your mouth and tears started to pour down your cheeks uncontrollably.
the loud sound of skin slapping against each other and the heavy smell of sex that lingered in the air, made your brain dizzy. your arms threatened to give out but michael pulled you now fully up against him, pressing his chest into your back.
the squeals and cry’s that came out of your mouth turned him on even more and the fact that you were experiencing pain, made him go crazy. if he would have known before that he could use you like this, he would have fucked you months ago.
after a few minutes of his relentless pounding you noticed his breaths getting louder, the grunts and growls he would let out here and there were also getting more intense, signing you he was almost reaching his high.
“cum inside me michael.” you managed to squeal out and in reply michael fucked into you with all his strength, hands grabbing your tits and teeth biting into your shoulder. with an animalistic growl, he finally let go and painted your walls with his white liquid. he continued to push in and out of you, fucking his cum deep inside of you.
you could barely hold your eyes open and your body was feeling like jelly. but then michael pulled out of your hole and you immediately fell back on the sofa. exhausted breaths came out of your mouth, trying to calm down from the intense fuck.
you felt his weight shifting on the couch and heard him getting dressed again. your eyes were still closed when he suddenly gripped your hair again and pulled your head up. he was bent down to your level and you saw something in his eyes you’ve never seen before.
“good girl.” he faintly whispered before releasing his grip and walking away. your mouth opened at his words and your brows furrowed.
you thought you were dreaming. for the first time ever michael spoke to you.
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spookieloverslittlemind · 18 days ago
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Art The Clown - NSFW alphabet
tw: mentions of cnc, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, brief mention of blood play
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
The most aftercare you’re getting from this man is silently pretending to coo over you and wipe your tears. You might be able to convince him to help you bathe if you offer a large quantity of bubbles and/or an exciting bath bomb (prepare for a dramatic ☹️ when you clarify that it is not an ACTUAL bomb).
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
If you ask him what his favourite part of your body is, Art’s answer is as follows:
😱👉🏻👌🏻
This is a gesture inclusive of all your holes, just to avoid any confusion. For a more sentimental answer from him, take a peak here.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Art wants everything to do with cum and that’s not an exaggeration. He doesn’t really care for sex in the traditional sense, he just finds the mess very, very fun. The more bodily fluids the better. Wants his gloves stained with everything. Wants his suit to smell of you like a marked animal. If you can squirt, you will squirt - make no mistake.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
This isn’t really answerable because Art exists to be a freak and therefore has no secrets or shame about that.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Not a lot because he doesn’t have a real drive for sex or intimacy, it’s more just the mess and fun he finds outside of brutal murder, and he doesn’t consider that a possibility until he meets you. He knows of sex acts prior to you, but has no interest in trying them out until he realises the mess he can make of you. Over and over again.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Prefers you being tied/chained with your legs spread, so any position in which that is possible. Likes it best when you cant pull away; not that you want to, but when overstimulated your body can flinch/thighs can try to close and that’ll have Art shaking his finger at you all ☝🏻🙄
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
The silly sir mayor of goofsville? You’re asking?
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Doesn’t care to groom at all and likes when his or your bodily fluids linger in his pubes because he’s a freak so you do the math.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Again, silently condescendingly cooing over you is the most intimate vibes you’ll receive from this guy. He’ll lick your face and give you little kisses during but it’s predominantly to make you laugh while you’re crying if when you do get overwhelmed.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Finds it funny to jerk it over you and make a mess but otherwise has no real interest in it.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Every type of pain/weapon involvement he can think of. Cnc because overpowering you is part of the thrill. Forced orgasms for - you guessed it - the mess.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere and everywhere, has no preference or sense of decency. If you so much as hint you’re needy, he’ll bend you over a park bench.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Doesn’t really get “turned on” beyond bloodlust type feelings, so all I’m going to say is this: period sex.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything that could fatally wound you, because you’re his favourite toy <3
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Giving. Smearing black and white paint all over your thighs, bruising them with his teeth, smearing the essence of you all over his face? Yeah. He’ll stay down there so long you’ll regret asking it of him, because if you think he’s stopping even after you pass out from exhaustion…you’re mistaken.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Has no concept of sensuality, will only go slow to torture you, but is definitely a more frantic “lover”, if you want to call him that. Goes like a rabbit, and that’s not just true for his cock, either. Fingers, tongue - he’s not slow with any part of himself when it comes to you. He’s not patient about getting the results he wants, but once he’s making a mess of you, he’ll take his sweet time doing anything more than just making the mess worse.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He carries a stopwatch in his black bag of goodies so he can keep a record of how quick he can make you cum at any given time - quickies are this man’s specialty. It’s all a game.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Hahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Considering his own release isn’t something he really cares about or prioritises, he can go for as long as it takes to almost paralyse you. And he’s not stopping then, either.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
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U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Let’s be clear: it’s not teasing to Art, it’s torture. Orgasm denial, making you as messy as humanly possible before letting you cum, is the name of Art’s favourite game.
He’s a far more dominant than submissive person in the bedroom, to the extent he will lie there and pretend to yawn while you bounce on his cock to get yourself off without any help from him. Because he’s mean like that. He’ll mock your facial expressions, point and silently laugh at the sounds of your body while he’s fucking you; it’s fun for Art.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
🤨
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
A lot more asexual than people realise, solely based on a lack of general interest into any sex act for what it is. As far as he knows, sex doesn’t typically include blood or pain, so…what’s the point? Art has better things to do that are more fun. Like inventing new torture devices and then using them. But when he meets you, learns about your needs and how he can satisfy you, he realises there is an entirely new world of bodily fluids that he needs to get very well acquainted with.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
I mean…we all saw-
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Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
As previously explained, Art doesn’t have a sex drive, really. He just likes mess and finds it fun. That said, whenever and wherever you need him, Art will make you regret it.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Art doesn’t sleep, but he understands - begrudgingly - that you need to. Whether he stops playing while you sleep is another matter.
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yanderefarm · 2 months ago
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Drowning Achilles while brutally using him slapping his hand away when he tries to touch himself pressing him under the water harder when he tries to go up to catch his breathe leaving him on the bathroom floor tied up
I saw u say something about drowning sex in the Ajax abuse request
🐀
cw;; drowning, rough sex, vomiting (kind of), abuse, violence, dark content, dead dove do not eat
tbh there's this one scene in this horror movie "would you rather" and like its not a great movie it's just essentially torture porn but like there's this scene where this pretty goth girl has to hold her breath underwater for 4 minutes and it changed my brain chemistry when I first saw it.
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you had one of his arms held behind his back for leverage to jack hammer your cock deeper into him while your other hand was forcing his face into the bathtub. he was clearly loving it; he had been play fighting so far, pretending to struggle and fight so you had to keep him in his place but the lack of oxygen was starting to get to him. his greedy hole was tightening as it started to get hard to breathe and his legs shuffled and kicked, not enough.
you pulled his head out of the water and he was gasping. you took the opportunity to bury yourself completely in his tight hole, fully sheathed in his boy cunt. you tugged at his pretty hair until his head rested against your shoulder.
"chilles, not gonna pull you back up until you're full of cum. let's hope you don't die, huh fucktoy?"
his head was clearly already dizzy from what you'd done so far and he could just nod weakly. he took a few more deep breaths before you finally plunged his head back into the cold water.
his thin hand reached between his thighs and started to wrap around his cock. oh the little slut was asking to be drowned today. you grabbed his hand hard enough to bruise as you fixed them both behind his back in a rough grip. his entire body shook as your new handles made it easier for you to go even rougher.
your cock was trying to punch the air out of him with every deep thrust that pressed right into his sweet spot. he couldn't keep holding his breath for much longer already. his hands started to push against the edge of the tub while his feet started to kick and push trying in vain to pull himself back. you kept the brutal pace in his pretty cunt moaning at the way his body clenched so tight in panic. water began to splash up and spill over the tub as he tried to move his head above water.
"you- ngh- filth-filthy fucking slut you- fuck- you're loving this so much huh?" each word accentuated with a grunt and the sound of your skin slapping together.
"you wanna fu-fucking die today? wanna die ta-taking daddy's co-cock like a- ngh- whore~"
god the way he clenched around you told you everything you wanted to know. you were getting close, your pace slowed as his fighting got even rougher. he was pounding his hands against the tub, legs flailing, body tightening. and with a few long thrusts deep into his tight cunt you spilled ropes and ropes of thick cum into him. his body just started to lose its vigor when you finally pulled his head out.
you watched achilles take deep gasping breaths his eyes rolling back and his cock twitched between his legs. he came untouched on the bathroom tile. just from almost dying. you let him keep taking deep breaths as you released his arms and started to kiss his neck.
"filthy. you're so fucking filthy." you kissed and bit his neck to praise him for his good job as you gave a few more slow thrusts into his messy ass.
achilles sat up properly moving into your lap while he clutched his chest. he was clearly dizzy and out of it, his pretty blue eyes were blank like you'd sucked the life out of them. you almost had. you watched in amusement as his whole body twitched and he came against, spilling cum on his stomach this time.
"hey that's not fair~ you're a fucktoy you're not supposed to cum more than me." you bit at his neck not expecting a reply.
"sssorryyy" he slurred through gasping breaths, his head lulling against your shoulder.
his pretty eyes started to close so you slapped his face. "don't go falling asleep now. you're not done."
you let out a little moan and blinked his eyes open sleepily. once it looked safe like he wasn't going to pass out you shoved him off your cock and onto the bathroom tile. he gasped and whimpered in surprise but you just ignored him, instead grabbing a towel and wiping off your body that he had gotten wet.
you nudged him with your foot so he was looking back at you. "get this shit cleaned up and come to my office for round 2."
you kicked him as hard as you could in the stomach making him cough up water and start gasping for air again. for good measure you gave him another kick. and another. and one more. his stomach already showing signs of bruising as tears started to well up in his eyes.
"fffhaaank youuuu"
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wandixx · 3 months ago
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Prompt For Dc-x-Dp With M’gann and Danny M’gann didn't expect to be dealing with Random Lazurus Green Portals forming around mars, but since she's Nearby mars she gets to deal with it... and their's An Alien with snow white hair Fighting A Glowing Vampire who's raving about Fathers and mothers?? Danny Is in such a Mood, He's on mars, which is a plus, but He's Fighting Vlad On Another 'Join me! Let me remove Jack from this plain of Reality!' and Honestly The Portals are throwing him off, Just... Bad memories, And Then, becuase of fucking course Something else happened, Vlad Gets Decked in the face and sent flying. "hey, So im going to guess that The Vampire is The Evil one here?" The Green woman asked, while Looking at Danny. While Vlad is growling and about to Throw A Red Ecto-blast at M’gann Danny gets in the way with a shield and responds. "yeah, arch nemisis and all, how are you even out here? or breathing?" M’gann Just Shrugged and said, "Well Home is home and all." Before flying to go Deck the Vampire and all. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ hope this is enough for you to Work some magic and all. and as for some extra stuff you could use, maybe danny has a Space obsesion, and His Protective stuff is Becuase of the Type of spirit he is half of? And maybe An Ice core Could be fun to go with? Ghost prince territory? with danny not wanting to be ghost king just yet. ideas for ya to use.
It's such a cool concept! I didn’t fit Ghost Prince in, but I hope you'll like what I did
*****
Danny was going to strangle Vlad, all subtleties of ghost powers no withstanding. He needed the brutal power that just wasn't fully there even when using more offensive abilities, like ecto-blasts.
He had been having a good day. Okay, maybe not a good day, it's been a long time since he had an actually good one, but a decent day. One, that seemed to start out calm, with all of his typical rogues stuck in Zone recent enough they shouldn't get out today specifically. It was Saturday, so no school, and for once his homework wasn't swallowing him, so he had a bit of time to breathe. And prepare college applications, because his grades got to an appropriate level again and he actually got a shot in academic career. No chance for scholarship like Jazz, but he could go if he played his cards right.
And then, of course, Vlad had to come into his room to harass him again. This time with the added flair of a portal gun he made for some freaking reason.
This time Danny wasn't even trying to piss Vlad off, in the love of Ancients, he tried to ignore the other halfa even when he showed up in his room, raving about removing Jack Fenton from this plane of reality. Craving to deck the guy right then and there was enormous but Jazz was on him about controlling his ✨️displaced aggression✨️ and his anger in general, so he was trying to tune Vlad out. He carefully didn't even think about transforming into Phantom. Especially since both of his parents were safe, a few states away on some ghost hunting convention that Danny managed to skip by the power of ‘I can't take more days off school, sorry I messed up my attendance early in the year’.
Well, they would be, if Vlad, being the obsessed creep he was, didn't try to follow them with a portal gun.
Danny was still willing to ignore it all, because Vlad was a loser and chances that he made something so complicated work properly were only slightly above chances his parents had. And both of them were tripping hazards in hell.
But then Vlad started blasting around his room to egg him on and hit his Curiosity rover model.
Phantom tackled him before the bastard had time to smirk. They phased through the wall, because otherwise Vlad’s back would smash into Lego Saturn V and boy was not looking forward to even more damage. His white gloved hands pressed Plasmius against the cold floor. It looked promising. Over the years he got to a relatively similar level as Vlad with his fighting abilities so getting advantage so early could in theory mean it would be over soon and he would get back to his applications.
He forgot how to breathe for a moment when he was pushed through a portal. Some most instinctual part of him, deep in his core, fell to the mindless panic because He died this way! He died this way, was he able to survive it again?! Without thinking he lashed out, trying to scratch and bite and blast because he needed to get out, he needed to get away but danger was in front of him and he needed to get rid of the danger before he could escape to safety. And Vlad kept teasing him, like he didn't know fully well what portals did to Phantom, to Danny, like he wasn't breaking the most basic rules of the anarchist ghost society.
So Phantom kept trying to punch and kick and scream, trying to get away from green ovals that just kept appearing around them leading to who knows where.
Powerful blast to the chest sent him flying back, through the portal and down to the ground, which at some point became asphalt instead of wheat field. He was too frazzled to even try stopping his fall, just half heartedly tensed waiting for an impact.
It never came, because he was caught by static. Men in red (Flash he'd realize second too late, Flash) send him a concerned smile and asked about something but Plasmius was trying to duplicate, no doubt to overshadow actual hero and it wasn't the way Phantom wanted to be introduced to the Justice League so he jumped forward, sending both halfas through another portal.
It was easier this time, when he expected it but his hands were still shaking when he put them in fists. He could handle it though. He fought in much worse circumstances.
They spawned through a few more portals, almost threw worried looking Superman off the sky and barely not killed some of Aquaman's dolphins before something changed. Phantom didn't realize it at first, too focused on rapid fire from Plasmius and on the constant lookout for new portals, but something changed.
His next blast hit the target and left charcoal black burn and almost fire in its wake. It wasn't something that happened normally. It wasn't something that happened normally unless Danny's obsessions were being served. He wasn't protecting anyone but himself, which didn't fill the protection obsession, so that left…
Space.
Oh.
He was on Mars. Or well, a bit above.
It was mesmerizing. It was breathtaking. It was everything he wished for ever since he learned about other planets in kindergarten.
Sky was a pinkish red color that on Earth meant a beautiful clear sunset but here was just the middle of the day. He didn't see the sun itself, apparently lucky enough to have his back to it. It wouldn't be brighter than at home, obviously, but it was always nice to not be blinded when admiring the view.
The landscape below them seemed familiar. He probably saw it in some photo, but he couldn't remember which one. He couldn't help but try to remember. He wanted to know where was he, what he'd seen, what he'd touched, later when he was in his room, longing to get out here again.
In his almost trance he just about ignored the blast that flew past his ear like an annoying pest.
He had the name of this rock formation on the tip of his tongue! C'mon, brain, you could do it, you could remem-
Even he couldn't ignore the burning pain of the ecto blast straight to the shoulder.
“Listen to me, Little Badger!” Plasmius yelled before dodging ice javelin. Phantom made sure it evaporated before hitting the ground. He was not letting other planet become collateral damage in whatever mess Vlad wanted to stir this time.
He carefully didn't look around when they teleported next time, aware just enough to know they were still on Mars. It wasn't a good moment to sooth his neglected obsession.
Being mad that this was probably the only chance he got out there helped. It definitely reignited the absolute fury, before muted by the panic and then obsession trance.
Phantom wasn't sure what he was yelling back as Plasmius went on and on about killing Danny's dad and marrying his mom and adopting Danny and how ‘look Little Badger, you and I both see how much better off you'd be if you just joined me and let me teach you’. He just knew there was little other than obscenities, and it was paired with an array of blasts and ice and straight up punches when he got close, which was good enough.
Oh, how he wished he could strangle the pathetic vampire lookalike bastard.
Something green and indigo sent Plasmius crashing into the ground.
“Hey, so I'm going to guess that the vampire is The Evil one here?” Feminine voice asked in clear English. Danny took a moment to just stare, blinking rapidly to make sure he saw what he thought he saw.
Yup, that was certainly The Miss Martian, an alien heroine, whose action figure he displayed at the most honorable place of his room. The Miss Martian he tried to learn everything about when she debuted. The Miss Martian whose powers were so similar he used footage from her fights to learn himself. His biggest inspiration.
Dope.
Wait, she asked him a question, didn't she? It was not the time to be a fanboy, probably.
Yeah, no it was definitely not a time to be a fanboy, he decided, right when he threw a shield in front of her, because Vlad didn't take kindly to being interrupted. It really was the least he deserved.
“Yeah, arch nemesis and all that. If I may ask, what are you doing here, Miss Martian, ma'am? I thought you lived full time on Earth?”
“Well, home is home and all” she just said wistfully and telepathically threw a rock to Vlad's stomach, making it follow until it hit the mark, right before another stone hit him in the unprotected back.
And here Danny thought he got over his celebrity crush back when he was sixteen.
Good thing though, another person in the fight made his protection obsession rear back to life, the fact that she was an alien only helping as his space side zeroed on her too. It was useful to not get distracted by glimpses of the world around them.
Of course Vlad just duplicated to make the chances ‘equal’ once again, so the fight dragged on.
Miss Martian just kept being graceful like a supernova, beautiful and destructive.
Danny hoped he didn’t look as embarrassingly pathetic as he thought he did. What were the chances she didn’t see when he took the blast to the arm because he got distracted by pretty rocks?
Plasmius kept taunting, calling him Daniel because of course secret identities or prefered names don't matter when you have to harass the teenager.
Phantom decked him extra hard for that.
At least he didn’t try to use his portal gun again, too busy with fighting off both of them.
Kick, dodge blast, ice, shield for Miss Martian, ice because how dare he attack an alien, dodge, intangibility.
Was it or was it not a good idea to use Ghost Wail and be done with that.
“I've got an idea, cover for me for a minute, okay?”
“Sure” Did he sound too eager? He wanted to keep it cool at least outwardly, not mess up his first and perhaps last impression.
Wait, shit, Martians can read minds! Miss Martian probably already knows how big of a mess he was.
Shit, shit, shit.
Phantom dutifully shielded heroine as she levitated with her eyes closed, at the same time keeping constant assault on Vlad. It was getting exhausting. At least he could go home fast when the fight ended.
“Do you want me to make him indefinitely indisposed or is it too much for you?” Miss Martian suddenly asked. Danny froze for almost a minute before he choked out.
“What do you mean?”
“I can rip his mind apart, leave his body alive but useless without any thought to lead it, but I know some people find it uncomfortable even when it happens to villains”
For a moment, in the midst of fanboying, he forgot how terrifying set of powers she had.
“Please don't” After all, ghosts are their minds, and despite how despicable things Vlad did, no one deserved fate of completely not existing.
“Alright. Is enhancing his experience of pain okay with your moral code?”
“Yeah, I think”
“Done,” she said with a smile, and despite how terrifying he was of her just a few seconds ago, he had to admit, this smile was gorgeous.
After that, it took, like, three punches before Vlad bailed. Which was good.
What was less good, was the fact that the portal he used to escape closed before Danny could go through it. He just stared for a long moment, blinking quickly. He wanted to scream. Or cry. Or both. Both was good.
“So, Daniel…?”
Danny winced and looked back at Miss Martian.
“Danny. Or Phantom. Nobody calls me Daniel”
She nodded with a friendly smile. Good thing they were flying, because his knees got weak for a hot second.
“Alright. I'm M’gann”
“Should you tell me this?”
“I know your name,” she shrugged. “It's only fair that you know mine. It's not a name I use on Earth anyway”
“Um, sure, okay. It's nice to meet you M’gann” Was this too stiff? He had no idea how he was supposed to interact with heroes who just shared their identity. For no reason too, because c'mon, she didn't know him. Why would she do it?!
“Are you from Earth? You speak English”
“Yeah, USA, Illinois. That bastard teleported us around and of course left me stranded”
“It's your lucky day then, I was about to head back, I can take you with me”
There was no universe in which he wouldn’t agree.
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impyssadobsessions · 10 months ago
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DPXDC Prompt: Who is Danny Fenton?
Warning: This one will be dark as it contains character deaths and violence.
Danyal replaced Danny Fenton a long time ago. As in the original died and Danyal needed a place to hide.
He could have killed him or maybe there was an accident. But he's been masquerading as Danny Fenton for a long time.
But imagine Danyal Al Ghul did kill a kid to take his place. Or at least might have put him out of his misery of something tragic that happened.. as if he wasn't stalking homes to try and pretend to be someone's else's child after leaving the league.
Wasn't "his" fault the kid was stupid enough to cross paths and get hurt.
Though guilt does follow him as he pretends and easily slides into the kids life. Reason he "starts" to drift from Jazz, she's the only one that eyeing him too closely and he doesn't like it. Blame it on her being a nag.
Its why he survived the portal incident. He was already contaminated.
All this to avoid having to fight his brother and being kicked around by his grandfather.
Only to have karma bite him in the ass. Not only he failed to come back fully- unlike the pit rage that made you forget yourself- this form seems to make every regret and terrible action dig its claws deeper in every painful way.
Even worse if you play the whole phantom is a ghost combined with Danny.. so phantom is danny fenton.
Now he's lost anything he could have pride in. Thanks to his accident, he's had harder time controlling his body.. especially with his powers. Clumsy. Uneven. He knew he was out of sorts from not practicing but he doubt he be this bad.
His life forever now half of either existence. He couldn't pretend anymore. Once his new parents find out- they would try to kill him.
Back to square fucking one.
And this time. He doubt even his brother or mother would lend a pity hand. Not like he would want it.
AMG just now thought maybe he would go to Gotham after he killed Vlad and was caught by the Fentons.
He warned Vlad and told him he was getting onto his last nerve. Even told him that Jack wasn't his dad and Maddie wasn't his mom, hell he wasn't even Danny Fenton. But if he had to tell him who he was he was going to regret it.
Vlad went even harder losing interest in Danny- only for Danny to make a sword with his powers and show Vlad WHO he was.
He was trying to be like his father- batman. He is the grandson of the demon king- and former member of league of assassins.
Vlad begging when he realizes Danny been holding back and actual death is on the horizon. "I'm Danyal Al Ghul. And I'm tired of you."
Danny did do it to save everyone permanently but after brutally killing Vlad- is when first his friends show up to warn him about his parents just to see what he done.
Danny laughing awkwardly like.. you-you saw that.. didn't you? heh- Then Fentons barge in. Jack is emotional wreck.
Actually getting a few good hits in, before Danny decided to play dead again and let Jack think he destroyed him.
Flying back to gather his stuff to leave permanently. He couldn't take the guilt of looking at Jack's face. Danny Fenton is dead anyways.
Only to be confronted by Jazz later who shakily asks if Danny is her brother.
Danny being honest, "no."
"For how long?" Jazz saying she knows it had to be before the accident.
"…we we're 8."
Jazz asking trying not to sob did he kill him.
"Mercifully." Then explains he was going to die anyways-
"You don't know that-"
"Actually I DO. I know what it takes to KILL someone, what could allow someone to live. That's something I DO know. And if he had managed to live he would be a vegetable." Explaining how the injury to his spinal cord was not recoverable. just imagine its so bittersweet, because Jazz does love her brother still. But Danny has been a lie this whole time.. or at least being Fenton was. Most of the laughs have become real, jokes, the friendship.
But Danny knows he can't fix this.. so he leaves.
Jazz torn whether to beg him to stay or to go.. and just ends up choking up watching him leave.
thus Danny not sure where to go decides its bout time he at least sees his father.
whether he let him see him or not is undecided.
Jack will either be blame for the murder of Vlad, or Phantom will be exposed.
Either way. Danny knew he royally fucked up.. again.
Ooo what if Danny does join the bats but insist he just wants to be a normal teen. Has a fully researched and planned backstory… mostly leaving out things because its "hard" to talk about. How he lived from foster home to foster home pretending to be different children until he just escape.
Until Jazz , Sam , and Tuck come to find him. Having audio where Danny stated he was the son of batman. Danyal Al ghul. So they figured if they find batman. They might find Danny.
Sam and Tucker want answers.. also mixed about Danny.. but dammit they been through so much.. HOW COULD HE keep that from them? They're not going to let him runaway from this. Tucker also adds unless he threatens to kill us.
Jazz had resolved her feelings. Analyzing everything since Danny was 8. When the switch happened. What was him acting and when the real Danyal appeared.
And had decided she didn't care. Danny was her BROTHER. And honestly is the only thing she has left right now. And she wants him back. Wants to help him heal, wants to help him.
Sam and Tuck want their answers then decide what to do from there. They don't WANT everything they knew to be a lie.
And now Batman is aware of more of his son- Damian knowing more of what his twin been up too.
Its a race to get answers out of Danny before he figures it out and disappears for good.
Can see Damian being the best to help Danny through this. Especially since Jon and Dick helped him not feel so bad about the league.
Danny though pointing out- "Difference, the league didn't make me kill a kid, nor a pathetic billionaire."
"You're right. It would have made you kill me."
Danny just breaks.
Thus finally able to admit all his guilt and how terrible he feels about himself. How he TRIED to be like Father but.. he failed so hard. He failed. He failed EVERYTHING. Just a loser. A failure. A waste. Only to be reminded that if he was one- he wouldn't have so many people wanting to know him. He's scared to face his friends' and sister. He knows its gonna hurt. And it does. But even though he isn't forgiven there is hope things can move on from it. Sam and Tucker will have some serious trust issues and take a while to decipher what part is Danny and what isn't. Meanwhile, yes Jazz feels betrayed. She understands and mostly just want to get to know HER brother more.. Danny more. Hope this opens up the wall she wanted to break down this whole time. And as long as Danny shows her who he is, and tries to work on himself. She doesn't care who he was or how he got there. Also he has to show her what he done with her little brother's body and give it a proper burial. Which Danny happily will- giving it a proper burial.. not showing jazz. He's still afraid she'll immediately hate him once she does. Also can see Bruce being so conflicted but Damian, Dick, and Jason all standing up for Danny. Especially Jason once hearing why Danny killed Vlad was to PROTECT his family and town. He gave him fair warning.. So imagine Bruce and Danny having hard time getting along after everything is revealed. But more so just Bruce unable to comprehend the conflicted emotions. Danny tried to emulate him.. but failed. But he tried to do good.. yet he still killed. So its more so awkward than anything. Bruce still wants to give his son the best. Then I can see Danny helping out- though he keeps phantom a secret from the public. He's always invisible or barely seen.
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hoe4hotchner · 3 months ago
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With blood on his hands | [A.H]
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Pairing: UnSub!Hotch x gn!reader CW: Dark. This story contains descriptions of graphic violence, murder, mental illness, grief, and emotional distress. Dark themes, betrayal, loss of control, and fear, kidnapping, physical aggression, helplessness. WC: 5.2k
Please don't request a part 2 unless you have a very specific idea, my brain physically couldn't come up with more plot for this.
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           The house was quiet. Too quiet. Bearing signs of life throughout the whole layout of the building, yet the disturbing truth of what had happened made you uneasy.
           It was the same scene they’d encountered twice already - an all-American family, slaughtered in their home, with no apparent struggle, no clear motive. A mother, a father, and their young son, all lying lifeless, their blood staining the carpets, their lives ruthlessly cut short.
           You stood beside Rossi, your hands clad in gloves, and a frown etched upon your face as you surveyed the scene. The scent of blood and suffering hung heavy in the air, choking your senses. You had seen your fair share of horrors, but this was different. This unsub was different.
           "Third one this week," Rossi murmured beside you, his voice gruff with exhaustion and irritation, feeling the weight of the case starting to take its toll. "We need to catch this guy before he strikes again."
           You nodded, eyes scanning the room as your mind worked through the details. This unsub wasn’t just killing; he was destroying. The brutality of the murders suggested rage - deep and personal rage. There was a familiarity to the way everything was laid out that you couldn't put a finger on.
           You stepped over to the nightstand, where the mother’s jewelry lay scattered. Your eyes caught a golden ring, glinting in the light. You reached for it instinctively, feeling a strange pull toward the piece of metal. It was simple but familiar, in a way that made your stomach churn with suspicion.
           Frowning, you held it up to the light, inspecting it. That’s when it hit you like a punch to the gut.
           You knew this ring.
           Your blood ran cold as memories flooded your mind. Years of working alongside him, watching him fiddle with that exact band on long nights at the office, lost in thought as he processed information and clues. You had seen it on his finger countless times.
           Hotch.
           Your heart pounded in your chest, a dizzying sense of disbelief washing over you. There was no way. No possible way. You told yourself it was a mistake, that the stress of the case was playing tricks on your mind.
           But the more you stared at the ring, the more your instincts screamed at you.
           You weren't wrong about this.
           You swallowed hard, slipping the ring back onto the dresser. Rossi hadn’t noticed your reaction, he was busy analyzing the scene with his usual calm efficiency. You forced yourself to stay composed, your mind racing.
           The families. The pattern. A mother, a father, and a young son. Haley and Jack. It was so obvious.
           It all clicked into place with horrifying clarity. Hotch's stressor… the deaths of his family. You remembered the way he had shut down after losing them, how the grief had changed him. But never in your worst nightmares could you have imagined this. This was not the man you knew.
           You took a shaky breath, your mind spinning. You couldn’t tell Rossi - not yet - he wouldn't believe you. Wouldn't believe that his oldest friend was capable of this. Not until you were sure. Not until you’d seen Aaron, looked him in the eyes, and confronted him yourself. You owed him that much.
           "Dave," you said, forcing your voice to stay steady, "I’m going to head out. I need to check something."
           He glanced over at you, raising an eyebrow. "You okay? You look pale."
           "I’m fine," you lied, offering a weak smile. "Just need to follow up on a hunch."
           Rossi nodded, distracted by something on the floor, and you took the opportunity to slip away, your heart pounding in your chest. You could barely keep your hands from trembling as you made your way out of the house and into your car. Thankfully you had arrived separately.
           The drive to Aaron’s old house felt like a blur, your mind spinning with possibilities. Every part of you hoped you were wrong. That this was all some horrible mistake, that there was no way the man you had worked with for years could be behind these murders, that this was truly just some twisted dream, and that you'd wake up soon.
           But deep down, you knew.
           This was reality.
           When you pulled up to Aaron’s house, the pit in your stomach deepened. His car was in the driveway, the lights inside the house dim and all the curtains closed. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay calm. You had to confront him. You had to know the truth.
           You walked up to the door, every step feeling like a death sentence. When you knocked, there was a long pause. Then the door creaked open, revealing Aaron, standing in the doorway. He looked disheveled, his eyes dark and sunken, the weight of grief and something darker pressing down on him.
           "(Y/N)," he said, his voice low and rough. "What are you doing here?"
           You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. You stared at him, your heart racing as you noticed the subtle signs - the tension in his posture, the way his hands flexed at his sides. And most of all, the unmistakable wedding band missing from his finger.
           "I…" you began, your voice trembling. "I need to talk to you."
           Aaron’s eyes flickered, something unreadable passing behind them. He stepped aside, letting you in without a word. You walked into the house, the air thick with tension, your nerves screaming at you to turn around and leave, to get out while you still had the chance. But you couldn’t. Not now.
           As you stepped further into the room, your eyes landed on something that made your stomach drop - on the kitchen counter, barely noticeable, was a small streak of blood. Fresh blood.
           Aaron closed the door behind you, the sound echoing ominously through the quiet house.
           "You shouldn’t have come here," he said, his voice low, almost a growl.
           Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to face him, the realization crashing down on you with terrifying certainty. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t just your old colleague. He wasn’t just the man that had been your boss. He was the unsub you were looking for. He was the monster you’d been chasing.
           And now, you were alone with him.
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           Hotch stood over the lifeless body sprawled across the floor in his living room, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his knuckles bruised and bloody. The man beneath him had been dead for several minutes now, his face a mangled mess of flesh and bone, barely recognizable.
           Hotch’s fists clenched and unclenched, the blood dripping from his fingers painting the carpet with small, crimson pools. His heart was pounding, not from fear or guilt, but from the pure adrenaline coursing through his veins. He should have felt something - regret, remorse, shame—but there was only emptiness. Nothingness. And rage.
           The rage never left him. It simmered beneath the surface, a constant presence, threatening to consume him whole. After Haley and Jack, everything had spiraled. Their deaths had shattered the last bit of humanity he had clung to. He had tried, God knows he had tried, to be the man everyone needed. The leader. The protector. But after them, something inside him had broken, irreparably so.
           At first, he had managed to keep it hidden. But over time, the mask had slipped, the cracks becoming impossible to cover. The anger had grown, festering like a disease, until it had taken over every part of him. It was easier this way. Easier to stop pretending to be the good guy, the man who saved lives, when all he wanted to do was destroy them.
           Besides the way he had hurt Foyet had felt so good.
           He turned his head, his gaze cold and calculating, as a knock landed on the door.
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           The scent of sweat hung thick in the air, and the room was suffocating with the tension of your predicament.
           You stood in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock, taking in the scene before you. The man on the ground, the blood, the violence. And Hotch. Not a single drop could be seen on his clothes. Only his hands bore signs of the crime. Your mouth moved, but no sound came out. You were frozen, paralyzed by the realization of what you were seeing. What he had done.
           Hotch stared at you, his chest rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths. The look on your face - the fear, the disbelief - only fueled the fire inside him. For a moment, there was silence, an unbearable tension hanging between the two of you.
           Then, he spoke. His voice was low, a growl barely restrained by the thin thread of control he had left within him.
           “You really shouldn’t have come here.” He repeated his previous statement
           You blinked, finally finding your voice. “Aaron... what have you done? This isn't you.”
           Hotch’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with something unrecognizable. He took a step toward you, the cold gleam in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine. “I did what needed to be done.”
           You could barely breathe, your mind racing as you tried to process what had happened. This wasn’t the man you knew. The man you had worked with for years, the man you had trusted. The man you had secretly loved. He terrified you now. This was someone else entirely - a predator, who was cold and unfeeling.
           “Aaron, please...” Your voice shook as you took a step back, instinctively retreating from the danger that loomed before you. “You don’t have to do this.”
           His eyes flashed with anger, and in an instant, he was on you, his hand gripping your arm with a force that made you wince. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “Don’t tell me what I have to do. You don't know anything”
           You swallowed hard, trying to remain calm despite the fear coursing through you. “This isn’t you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You’re not a killer.”
           His grip tightened, and you gasped, pain shooting through you as you felt him slightly twisting your arm. “Aren’t I?” His voice was sharp and dangerous. “Do you know what it feels like, to lose everything? Watching them die? Knowing you couldn’t stop it? Knowing that you weren't fast enough?”
           Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to pull away from him, but his hold was unrelenting. “Aaron, please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. “This won’t bring them back. What Foyet did was terrible.”
           For a moment, you thought you saw something - some flicker of humanity cross his face. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by cold indifference. He released you, shoving you back roughly. You stumbled, catching yourself against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest.
           Hotch stood there, his eyes burning with fury, his hands still stained with blood. “Don't tell me what's right or wrong. They’re gone and nothing can bring them back,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice void of emotion. “There’s nothing left for me but this.”
           You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. “There’s more to you than this. You’re better than this, Aaron. I know you are.”
           He laughed, a bitter, cruel sound that sent chills down your spine. “Better? Better for who? For you? For the bureau didn't trust me to be in the field after what happened?” His eyes bore into yours, and you could feel the hatred radiating off him. “Do you really think you know me? The man I am now?”
           You didn’t answer, too afraid of what he might do next. His rage was palpable, an almost physical force that seemed to fill the room, choking you with its intensity.
           He moved toward you again, his eyes wild, his movements erratic. “You think you can save me? Is that it? You always had a savior complex, just like Morgan.” He grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You can’t save me. No one can.”
           You trembled under his touch, your heart thrashing in your chest, trying to claw its way out as his fingers dug into your skin. For a moment, you thought he might hurt you, that you might face the same predicament as the lifeless body in his living room. That he might go too far. But then, just as quickly as the anger had flared, it seemed to dissipate, leaving only emptiness in its wake.
           He released you, stepping back, his breathing heavy and uneven. His hands shook as he wiped them on his pants, the blood smearing across the fabric. He looked at you, something dark and broken in his eyes. “You should leave,” he said, his voice hollow as he turned his back to you.
           You swallowed, your throat dry. “Aaron—”
           “Go.” His voice was cold, final. There was no room for argument.
           You hesitated for a moment, torn between the part of you that wanted to stay, to help him, and the part that knew he was too far gone. Finally, with a heavy heart, you turned and walked toward the door, your footsteps echoing in the silence.
           As you reached the doorway, you turned back to look at him one last time. He was standing in the center of the room, staring down at his blood-stained hands, his expression unreadable.
           “Aaron,” you whispered, a single tear rolling down your cheek, and your voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”
           But he didn’t look back. He didn’t say a word. And as you stepped out into the night, the door closing behind you with a soft click, you knew that the man you had once known was gone.
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           The door had barely closed behind you when Hotch’s mind snapped back into a cold calculation. He could still feel the sting of your words in the air, your plea for him to stop. You should leave, he’d told you. But now, as silence wrapped around him, a horrifying realization dawned - you knew of him.
           Who else knew?
           You were the only one who had seen him like this, who knew what he had done. The team… They would never believe it on their own. Not until you told them, he was sure of that. But what evidence did you have to back up your claim?
           His pulse quickened. His anger, momentarily soothed by the violence he'd unleashed, flared again. He couldn’t let you leave. He wouldn’t.
           He moved quickly, his body still humming with adrenaline. You had made it to the end of the driveway when you heard him behind you. His footsteps were heavy and purposeful. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest.
           "Aaron?" you called over your shoulder, your voice trembling. But there was no response, only the oppressive sound of his approaching footsteps. Fear gripped you.
           Before you could take another step, he was on you. His strong hand wrapped around your wrist like a vice, yanking you back toward him with brutal force. You gasped, struggling against his hold, but it was no use. His grip was unyielding, his expression dark and twisted as he dragged you back into the house, thankful that he and Haley had bought a house in a secluded area.
           "You thought you could just walk away?" His voice was low, a deadly whisper, sending a chill down your spine. "That you could leave me and run straight to the team? Tell them about what I've been doing?"
           You blinked, fear coursing through you as you tried to speak. "No, Aaron, I—"
           "Don’t lie to me!" he snarled, his face inches from yours. "I see it in your eyes. You were going to tell them. Weren’t you?"
           Terror constricted your throat. You wanted to scream, to plead with him, but the words wouldn’t come. His anger was suffocating, his eyes filled with a malice you’d never seen before.
           "I can’t let you do that," he said, his voice eerily calm now, the storm of his fury momentarily quieted by cold calculation. "You’ll ruin everything. This—" He gestured to the leftover blood still staining his hands. "This is who I am now. And you’re not going to stop me."
           Without warning, he yanked you roughly into the storage closet, slamming the door shut behind him. The darkness swallowed you both whole. You stumbled, trying to catch your balance, but Hotch was determined. His large frame loomed over you, his hand still gripping your wrist with bruising force.
           "Please, Aaron, you don’t have to do this," you whispered, your voice shaking as you tried to reason with him. Tried to pull yourself out of his grip.
           But his expression was unreadable now, lost in the darkness. His fingers tightened around your wrist, and you winced in pain. A high-pitched whimper left your throat as the pain coursed through every single nerve in your body.
           "I do." His voice was cold, devoid of the empathy and warmth you once knew in him. "You’re the only one who knows as far as I can tell. And if I let you walk out of here, it’s over for me."
           Your breath hitched, panic rising in your chest. "Aaron, I won’t tell anyone," you pleaded, desperation leaking into your voice. "I swear, I—"
           "I told you don’t lie to me," he hissed, cutting you off with a deadly glare. "I can’t trust you. Not anymore."
           The air was thick with tension, the weight of his gaze suffocating. You could barely make out the features of his face as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, but you could feel the cold determination, it was unmistakable. He had made up his mind. There was no reasoning with him, no turning back.
           Hotch fumbled with something on the wall and soon enough the overhead light bulb flickered on, the dim light barely bright enough to light up his features. Before you could react, Hotch pulled a length of duct tape from a nearby shelf, yanking it free with a sharp sound. Your heart raced, and you instinctively tried to back away, but he was faster. With a cruel efficiency, he shoved you up against the wall, pressing his body against yours to keep you in place.
           “Stop fighting me,” he growled, his breath hot on your neck.
           You struggled, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but it was no use. He was stronger, and his anger gave him a terrifying, unnatural strength. The tape wound around your wrists, biting into your skin as he bound you tightly. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you realized there was no escape.
           When he was finished, he stepped back, watching you with an unnerving calm. Your heart pounded in your chest, panic threatening to overtake you.
           "What are you going to do?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.
           Hotch tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he considered you. “I’m going to make sure you can’t destroy everything.” His voice was cold, emotionless. “I’ve lost too much already. I won’t lose control again.”
           Without warning, he grabbed you, throwing you over his shoulder with brutal force. You screamed, but the sound was muffled by the closet walls. His grip on you was like iron as he carried you out of the building, and into the garage where his car waited patiently.
           You thrashed against him, panic clawing at your throat. But it didn’t matter. His mind was made up, and his body moved with the cold precision of a man who had crossed the line of no return, a man who wasn’t coming back.
           He tossed you into the trunk of his SUV, the metal cold against your back as he slammed the hatch shut, trapping you inside. The darkness closed in around you, and all you could hear was the sound of your own panicked breathing and the engine roaring as Hotch turned the car on.
           You were trapped.
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           The engine screeched as Hotch drove with grim determination, the rain streaking the windshield of his SUV. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white at the force of his grip. You still lay in the cramped trunk, the tape burning the skin on your wrists as you struggled to free yourself. Hotch had made a stop after about an hour on the road on the road to gag your screams, he was tired of hearing your begs and pleas for mercy. You lay helpless as the vehicle bumped along the dark, slick road. Every movement jostled your body, sending sharp pains through your limbs, but the terror coursing through you dulled the physical discomfort.
           The man behind the wheel was someone you thought you knew. But this version of Hotch was a stranger.
           His phone buzzed on the dashboard, but he ignored it. You could barely make out the faint sounds through the barrier between you, but you knew it had to be the team. They had to realize by now. But the phone in your pocket still clutched tightly against your side despite the restraints, was your only lifeline. Garcia could trace it if you managed to answer it the next time they tried your number. The team would find you, you were sure of it.
           But Hotch already knew that. And he wasn’t going to let it happen.
           Your heart raced as the SUV took a sharp turn, causing your body to slide slightly across the floor of the trunk. The storm outside was intensifying, and you could feel your anxiety building in the way he drove — focused and determined. He had a plan.
           The car slowed, the rhythmic thud of the rain against the roof of the trunk filling the silence. He pulled off the main road, the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires. Your pulse quickened as the vehicle came to a stop.
           A car door slammed shut, and you heard his heavy footsteps approaching. The trunk popped open, letting in the cool, rain-soaked air. Hotch loomed over you, his face set in a harsh, emotionless mask. Without a word, he reached down, his grip bruising as he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the trunk. You stumbled onto the muddy ground, barely able to keep your balance.
           His fingers moved deftly, reaching into your pocket and yanking out your phone. His lips curled into a dark smirk, his eyes flashing with twisted amusement.
           “You thought the team would save you,” he grinned in a low almost scary voice. “You thought Garcia would trace this… pathetic.” He held up your phone. A flash of lightning struck down in the distance behind him.
           Before you could react, he dropped the phone on the ground and crushed it under his heel before throwing it into the lake you had stopped near. You barely heard it splash into water over the sound of the pounding rain. Hotch calmly walked over to a large rock, grabbing it with both hands. You watched in horror as he smashed his own phone repeatedly, reducing it to a mess of shattered glass and plastic.
           Your only connection to the outside world was now gone.
Hotch turned back to you, his face illuminated by the brief flashes of lightning. His expression was as cold and unfeeling as the storm around you, but there was something darker in his eyes — a satisfaction in watching your hope slip away.
           “You always were smart,” he murmured, stepping closer, towering over you. “Too smart for your own good.”
           Without another word, he shoved you back into the trunk, his strength leaving no room for resistance. You were thrown back into the small, confined space. The rain and the outside world disappeared, leaving you in pitch-black darkness once again.
           The car started again, the engine rumbling as Hotch continued driving. You were no longer sure where you were, feeling like he potentially had driven you in circles to throw you off track, and that uncertainty gnawed at you. There was no doubt in your mind that Hotch had planned this meticulously. He had been covering his tracks, eliminating threats, and now he was eliminating your ability to interfere.
           The drive felt endless, the sound of rain against the roof your only marker of time passing. You tried to shift, to loosen the restraints on your wrists, but every movement sent sharp pain through your limbs. The car’s motion made you nauseous, the fear and discomfort blending into a haze.
           Eventually, the car slowed again. You felt the shift in the vehicle as it came to a stop. The air was suffocating, your breath quickening in panic as you heard the sound of the driver’s door opening for the third time and then the distant crunch of dried leaves under Hotch’s footsteps. Where had he taken you?
           The trunk opened again, and Hotch’s silhouette was backlit by the faintest glimmer of moonlight filtering through the storm clouds looming above. His face was unreadable, but there was no regret, no hesitation in his actions. He reached in and grabbed you roughly by the arm as he pulled you from the trunk once more.
           You were in the middle of nowhere - an abandoned building ahead, its windows dark and some of them were even shattered.
           The perfect place for someone to disappear.
           “We’re going inside,” Hotch growled, his voice harsh and barren of the warmth it once held.
           Your legs buckled beneath you, no strength left to carry your body, but Hotch didn’t care. He hauled you toward the entrance of the building with ease, his grip bruising on your bicep as he pulled you through the door. The interior was pitch black, the only sound was your rapid, panicked breaths and the distant rumble of thunder as the last of the storm was passing you.
           He led you through the building, the air biting at your skin. You could feel the hatred radiating from him - the complete absence of the man you once knew. He stopped in the center of a large, empty room, turning to face you with a dark, predatory gaze.
           “You should’ve stayed out of it,” he hissed, his voice low and dripping with venom. “But you couldn’t help yourself. You just had to know.”
           He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming as he reached out, his fingers gripping your chin tightly, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes bore into yours, cold and merciless.
           “You’ll wish you hadn’t.”
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           The BAU team gathered in their conference room, the air filled with a heavy silence. The flickering lights of the monitors and the scattered case files did little to lighten the grim atmosphere. The latest string of killings had left them all feeling drained and frustrated. They knew the pattern - the targeted families of three - but the connection was proving elusive.
           Reid, hunched over his paper files, spoke up. “The pattern is consistent. Every victim family has been targeted in a specific order: the father is always the first to go, followed by the mother, and then the child. We’re missing a crucial piece of the puzzle. Why does the unsub want the sons to watch their parents get murdered?”
           Morgan, pacing back and forth, nodded grimly. “We’ve checked financial records, phone records, and even personal connections, but nothing’s coming up. It’s like the unsub is just a ghost.” He listed, counting with his fingers as he mentioned each thing.
           Rossi, reviewing photos from the crime scenes, frowned in concentration. “There’s something we’re not seeing. Maybe we need to look at the details of each scene once again, this time more closely. There’s got to be a common thread.”
           Garcia was furiously typing away, her eyes darting between various screens. She was usually the one bringing good news or revelations, but this time her face was a mask of worry. “I’ve cross-referenced all known data, and I’m still coming up empty. It’s like the unsub is erasing every trace of himself.”
           Penelope’s words were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a new piece of evidence popping up on her screen. The team watched in quiet concern as she displayed a series of images on the large television screen behind them. The new evidence came from a tech at the latest crime scene.
           “Look at this,” Garcia said, her voice trembling slightly as she pointed to a photo of a golden wedding ring lying on a dresser. “I’ve run the image through our database. It’s not just any ring. It’s a unique design only a handful made in total, and I found a match.”
           The room fell silent as the team examined the image. Reid’s eyes widened as he recognized the significance too. “That ring… it’s a distinct piece. I’ve seen it before.”
           Rossi’s gaze shifted from the photo to Garcia. “You’re saying this ring could be linked to someone we know?”
           Garcia nodded, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “I cross-referenced it with our records, and it matches the description of a ring worn by someone in our team.” She swallowed the lump in her throat as she saw the name displayed on her laptop.
           The realization hit like a thunderclap. The team exchanged worried glances, their earlier frustration giving way to a new kind of dread. Rossi’s face darkened as he leaned in closer.
           Garcia nodded again, her expression serious as she confirmed the words Rossi had been about to ask. “The ring belongs to Hotch.”
           The room erupted into chaos. Morgan’s eyes widened in shock, and Reid’s expression was one of horror. “No way,” Morgan said, his voice filled with disbelief. “Hotch? He’s one of the most dedicated agents we’ve ever worked with.”
           “Is there any chance it could be a coincidence?” Rossi asked, his voice tight with concern. "That it's one of the other owners of similar rings?"
           Garcia shook her head, her face pale. “I don’t think so, they've all been spotted across the country and have rock-solid alibis. The design is too specific. And if Hotch is involved, we need to find him before it’s too late.”
           Reid began to piece together the information, his mind racing. “If Hotch is connected to the unsub, then it’s possible that he’s been orchestrating these murders from within. We need to act fast.”
           The team sprang into action, their earlier determination now transformed into urgency. Rossi and Morgan began to gather additional evidence and check Hotch’s recent whereabouts. Reid and Garcia worked on tracking Hotch’s phone, hoping to pinpoint his location.
           As the team raced against time, their focus sharpened on finding Hotch and uncovering the truth behind his involvement in the killings. Each agent’s heart pounded with the realization that someone they trusted might be the very monster they were hunting. But they were not ready to admit it just yet.
           Meanwhile, the darkness within Hotch continued to grow, his plans advancing while the team desperately tried to uncover the truth.
           The next move was crucial - finding Hotch could be the piece they were missing.
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absolutebl · 2 months ago
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This Week in BL - Scandals, Face Offs & Disappointments, Oh my!
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
Oct 2024 Week 3
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Ongoing Series - Thai
Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 6 of 12 - 3 tiny girls ragging on Jack was possibly the greatest opening sequence ever. Poor Jack. He is so not single anymore - so far as everyone around him is concerned. 
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Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 5 of 15 - Sports day continues. We get a little backstory on the respective crushes on Noh. The jealousy between Phun & Earn is way more extreme in this version. I'm not mad about it. I love a claiming. Although it is so unfair of Phun to claim Noh when they agreed not to go there, AND he’s dating someone else. The byplay with Pete’s ex was fun. I wonder if we’re supposed to suss that Noh knows he’s gay in this version? 
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I'm doing a face-off style watch along of this new version versus the original 2014-2015 version. Where I decide with each new ep which one wins. I will render a final judgement at the end. Frankly, I'm warming to this show way more than I thought I would give my extreme affection for the original.
Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 7 of 12 - Oh it’s so cute that he just wants to officially move in. And the necklace claiming thing was darling. Mini boyfriend era. Min being a kept baby girl was kinda fun. The family thing was too sweet. Oh noes my man has been strangled! Oh good he’s okay. Stupid breakup “for the plot” moment, they could have easily been separated by baddies, we didn’t need to go through this. 
Fourever You (Thai Thurs YT) ep 3 of 16 - I don’t care how cute he is or how longing those beautiful eyes, ghosting is a pretty big offense. Especially high school first love. I’m glad Ter is being difficult about it. Still the backstory is getting frustratingly confusing. It seems increasingly convoluted (full of girls) and I’m not sure what happened. So I’m not sure if I should be on Hill’s side or Ter’s. I’m beginning to feel manipulated and I don’t like it. I still like the show, but not as much as I did last week. I’m on a roller coaster here. 
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Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 11 of 12 - It remains odd, disjointed, but still modestly entertaining. Ozone using a well placed Phi for manipulation purposes made me happy. Random het wedding is random. 2 drunk horny sunshine babygurls was cute tho. 
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Every You Every Me (Thai Mon Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - AKA Just one meet cute after another. Nice queer rep this time. It’s lovely, just not my style BL. 
Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 10 fin - Okay so last week half the ep was eng subbed and this week only 3/4. Whatever. Please note my extreme annoyance with everything about this show will color my rating. As it should. Ready for a mini rant?
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Conclusion
What to say about this damn show? It wasn’t what I wanted and I didn’t like it. I’m disappointed in myself for having expectations and in it for not living up to them. It starred August for fucks sake! How could they fuck it up so bad? I wanted it to be a Thai reinterpretation of the brilliance that was Addicted giving us the ending that we never got to have but the narrative deserved. I got a resounding nope. The side couple was messed with, rearranged, and then entirely dropped and forgotten. The main romance was weirdly obsessive without any physical payout or emotional resolution, as if this remake were the censored Chinese version. All characters acted irrationally most of the time, and from what I could tell there was no logic to the ending, which seemed to be to minors escaping to a beach, abandoning their schooling, families, and respective futures. It was a hot mess. Without being hot. 4/10 fatally flawed, do not bother
Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - it's bad. I don't like it.
Ongoing Series - Not Thai
Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (Korea Thurs Gaga) eps 1-2 of 8 - High school student Do Hoe lives with his violent and brutal father who runs a Taekwondo gym in a rural area. Then cheerful Ju Young arrives who dreams of going to college for Taekwondo. Joy begins to fill Do Hoe's dark life. An unexpected incident forces them apart, they reunite over a decade years later.
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Make no mistake this one is dark. And Korea can go many directions when it leans dark. So I’m not entirely sure what to expect. All the triggers: child abuse, corporal punishment, alcoholism, gambling, and a few other things. But also a fantastically awkward kiss. Oh this is VERY good. I’m enjoying it. Tumblr is officially losing its tiny mind about it. What can I say? This hellhole loves it some gritty dark angst with high romance and deep meaning. All hail the return of Queen Hwang Da Seul. 
My Damn Business (Korea Sat YT) eps 3 of 7 - He kinda is the worst boss ever. Now he’s turned into a drinking buddy whether baby likes it or not. I really feel for this kid. I do want more backstory on both of them. Why are they the way they are? All that said….. phenomenal kiss. Thanks boys. 
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Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 4 of ? - I do like the brothers relationship. Even though we know it’s gonna become romantic, it’s nice to see them all teasing and friendly. Meanwhile I’m getting a little exhausted by the bullying and I’m very much ready for the revenge narrative to continue.
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Although I understand we have more of a spiral first, could we get on to some actual kissing soon? 
I'm shallow I just wanna see BV kiss the next boy. It's the BL world's version of Pokemon.
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Our Golden Times (Hong Kong YT) 6 fin - Okay so this was the last ep! 
Summary
This was an odd disjointed little piece, but the most BL BL we’ve ever seen out of Hong Kong. The optics are good and it’s enjoyable for what it is, which is a circumspect, badly subbed, and slightly odd yet earnest reunion romance. I liked it more for what it could be, and for what it represented, than for what it actually was, but I still liked it.
7/10 recommended with reservations
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I would like to nominate Our Golden Times @bengiyo as a candidate for the next "Girl you tried." Because it really did try hard to be the best little BL it could be under the circumstances.
First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) ep 11 of 12 - I do like all the couples, and in classic Taiwan style we’re ending ultra sappy (when they don’t fuck it up, and I don’t think this one will). Mei is the secret power behind the throne - as we all knew - love this for her, and us. 
Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 5 of 10 eps - I'm falling beind because my subber is, but sort-of trying to keep up. I don’t know. Just Japan messing with us, I guess.
Eccentric Romance (Korea Weds Viki) eps 3-4 of 12 - It’s oddly erotic with all the gym stuff but also awkward and weird with the jelly plus suspicion. (Hi GeonU, another Thai/Korea BL for you? Is it a thing for you now? Could you recruit Jimin to the cause? I mean you go him into a reality competition. BL is right there. Waiting. Pretty please with a shirtless hottie on top?) Anygay, I keep thinking that this show would actually be better if the Thai character were just a Korean character and this was just a regular KBL. Although, it probably still wouldn’t be very good.
It's airing but...
The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) 10 eps - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.
Next Week Looks Like This:
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Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
Still Coming:
10/21 Love in the Big City (Korea Mon Viki) ep 1 of - Okay, this is both a movie (already out) and a series. Neither one is likely BL and I can't imagine it will end happily. Here's your synopsis:
Cynical fun loving student Young pinballs from home, to class, to on night stands. He and Jaehee, his female besie and roommate, frequent nearby bars where they push away their worries about life, love, and money with soju and hookups.
Apparently this is causing a homophobic ruckus in SK right now. As is wont to happen when one puts a really big name in the gay lead and your country is, well, pretty damn homophobic. Brokeback mukbang anyone? (Oh yes I am aware I'm a turd, but I'm too old for this crap. I guess that makes me a coprolite.)
10/23 See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga Viki et al) 10 eps? - Zi Xiong, a third-generation heir, attempting to flee from taking over their family business, meets and falls in love with Shao Peng, who works as a hearing-impaired nurse. From the same production house as Kiseki Dear To Me in partnership with Shinehouse Theatre, funded by Taiwan’s BIGART + Japan's Rakuten (Viki). Show includes Lin Chia Yo (Be Loved in House: I Do). Director Chiang Ping Chen’s childhood experiences with his deaf uncle have inspired the drama.
10/27 Perfect 10 Liners (Thai Sun YouTube?) 24 eps! - New directing yet another university BL with engineers + their mentees. Based on a Jittirain novel. with a massive cast and massive run time. We will be watching this until APRIL of 2025!
ForceBook playing the same old characters = enemies to lovers tsunder/sunshine jock/nerd thing.
PerthChimonSanta are doing the cohabitation cool guy/dork trope.
JuniorMark are doing popular sunshine meets lonely sad boy (the only interesting pair IMHO).
Not sure if these will be interwoven (We Are style) or shorter stand alone runs-within-the-run of 8 eps each (Y-Destiny style).
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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You just kissed his brains out, what do you think? (Eh, we all know the aniyo is coming. This uke is made of tsudere and 아니요 ) (Damn Business)
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I know, it's not a good show, but just LOOK at his face.
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And the uke drunken shenanigans was brilliant. Loved it. (Battle Writers)
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I did LOVE the twist on Golf. (Love Sick 2024)
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Joke coming for our hearts just like...... it's TOO MUCH. War is SO DAMN GOOD. (J&J)
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Calling out the trope HDS?
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Gah. So awkward.
(Both from LFTCOT)
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs
Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.
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kettlefire · 2 years ago
Text
DP x DC Angst Prompt
Inspired by the song Preacher by Roe Kapara
"This is a distress signal from Amity Park Illinois." A scared teen girl was the face to meet the staticy camera. Red hair pulled up in a messy bun, tear stains clear on her face, eyes rimmed red.
All options were running out. They had two days, two days before the hunt began. Two days before they lose everything.
A distress signal, broadcasted on loop, over and over again to any frequency they can get their hands on with the limited equipment they had.
"This Friday, at 3:15am, my town is going to make an irreparable mistake."
A soft clang rang from somewhere of screen, but that didn't shift her attention.
"My town, my home, has fallen to the manipulation of a deranged woman."
A choked sound came from off screen, sounds uncomfortable close to a sob.
"Amity Park has always been disconnected from the rest of the world. A small town, in it's own small world. Things have been happening here for the past two years, and now..."
She paused, glancing off screen before wiping her face.
"Now we aren't enough to save it. We did took too long to notice the cancer that was spreading. The hysteria combined with fear of the unknown that drove out town to follow her.
My name is Jasimine Fenton, I'm here with my father Jack Fenton. My mother, Madeline Fenton, is the reason the world might be facing war."
The video footage grew worse, static starting to over take the image and the audio.
"Dad, we're losing it!"
"Sorry Jazzy-bear" The new voice clearly came from a man, even if he stayed clear of the camera view. A moment passed before it was fixed.
"We don't know how long we gave before they find us, but... My baby brother Danny Fenton is going to be brutally hunt down Friday morning.
There's no time to put all the information needed in this signal, but I'm begging anyone who sees this. Please send help.
Anyone who has spoken against the plan has been imprisoned, the only ones from the team that's fear is us."
Jazz let out a shaking breath, staring off screen for just a moment before coming back, fresh tears rimming her eyes.
"All Danny every wanted to do was protect his home, and all he got in return was pain and hatred. Please, you might not know us, but you need to know. Danny holds a high position with in the ghostly realm.
Whatever you want to call it, the ghost zone, the infinite realms, or purgatory. Doesn't matter, all you need to know of the living kill Danny, the ghosts will rage war."
A heavy thud filled the room, the camera seemed to shake at the sound. Fear filled Jazz's face.
"Dad, they-"
"It's okay Jazz, finish the recording, they can't get in yet."
Jazz nodded, moving toward the camera. She seemed to cup it in her hands and tried to speak over the loud thud that continued to penetrate the area.
"We're running out of time, I hope this reaches someone somewhere. More than anything, I hope this reaches the Justice League.
Reaches them before Friday. Before the world is in true danger. Danny is the only link to peace between worlds. Don't let a woman driven by hatred be the end."
This time instead of a thud, it sounded more like a crack. The camera shifted and a view of a large man built like a tank was caught. A strange gun in one hand, and what looked like a strange grenande in the other.
"Jazzy-Bear, there's an escape tunnel in the back. Go, I'll hold them off as long as I can."
"No! I'm not leaving you!"
"Jazz-"
"No. I don't care, I'm no use to anyone by myself. We need to stick together."
"Jasimine-"
"I'm setting the recording to loop."
"Honey-"
Loud crash broke through following another crack. Heavy footsteps followed. Voices screamed through the air.
Jazz's face filled the screen completely as gunfire could be heard.
"Please send anyone, I can't lose my baby brother too."
And just like that, the screen went black. Barely a couple seconds passed before the screen lit up again.
The video starting from the beginning. Hoping for anyone to view it.
A cry for help cycling through an endless loop until it found it's self broadcast for the League.
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