#they’re together here and you can’t convince me otherwise

[existingonthisplane]

The party playing truth or dare and Dustin, in his utterly unhinged era, decides to give someone a fake dating dare.

Realizes that Will, to his knowledge, is the only one who hasn’t dated.

Him and Lucas are already in relationships and El is Will’s sister so absolutely not.

Decides it’s up to their good pal Michael.

“My dearest buddy, Mike-“

And Mike tenses immediately cause Dustin’s got that tone he uses when he’s a little too excited about an idea. So Mike is just sitting there staring nervously.

And Dustin is like “I dare you to date Will for a week! Our boy deserves a good time.”

Will’s eyes widening comically large at the statement and Mike looks like he just got dunked in cold water.

“If he’s okay with it of course” Dustin adds on quickly at the end. Noticing Mike and Will’s reaction.

“I’m not sure about that one, man” Lucas pipes in adjusting his position next to Max so she can lean on him more comfortably.

“Fake dating? Isn’t that just normal dating?” El says, confusion thick in her voice turning towards Max who’s hand she’s holding.

“It’s stupid that’s what it is. But I guess it works for a dare? Not sure if I’d pick Wheeler of all people.” Max throws in lifting her head off of Lucas’s shoulder and shaking it.

“Doesn’t matter what you think Max, it’s about Will. So,” Dustin turns back facing Will again,”what’ll it be?”

And the whole group just turns towards him waiting for an answer, save for Mike who looks like he’s trying to remember how to function.

Will just starts stammering not really sure what to make of this at all. Of course Dustin would dare the ONE person who Will would actually like to date if that was possible.

Dustin hearing the lack of replies would go on to explain a little further how Mike is honestly the perfect candidate which Will honestly can’t argue with the logic of it because going from Dustin’s perspective Mike is Will’s best friend, hanging out regularly is already something they do and they like a lot of the same things.

It wouldn’t be that different from how they are now, Dustin honestly just wants Mike to hold Will’s hand and take him on like date nights or something? “Give him the experience” as he put it so lovingly.

“I mean, I guess I’m okay with it. It’s just a dare and this is honestly the closest I’ll get to actually dating someone since I’m not all that interested.” Will says, a little cautiously. If his friends read into it a bit they don’t say anything.

Mike is very very quiet still and it’s a little concerning so Will looks over at him. Trying to check in with his eyes. Mike looks far away though, lost in thought. At least his face doesn’t look like he’s in agony, he’s just blushing? A lot actually.

“Well I need you to know. I’m not going to dare him if you don’t want to.” Will looks back over to Dustin who’s got his eyebrow arched.

Dustin glances back over at Mike and Will realizes that they’re both thinking the same thing of giving Mike an out. If Will says no, then Mike is spared. All they need Mike to do is actually look and give that signal that he’s uncomfortable.

Mike glances up at Will. Probably because he could feel the eyes on him.

“So are you sure Will?” Dustin repeats, more for Mike’s sake than Will’s at this point.

Mike’s gaze is steady and something determined flits between his eyes. Will’s pretty sure his face is on fire.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, yes I’m sure.”

“Sick! Okay Wheeler, I dare you to date Will for a week! I want you to pull out all the stops too! Full blown dates, pay for his meals!!! Tell him he’s the cutest guy you’ve seen or something! No holding any punches, got it?” Dustin rattles off like he’d been planning it the whole time.

“What happens if he doesn’t pull all the stops out?” El asks from behind him.

“Oh right! If you don’t complete the dare in a satisfactory way you’ve got to read the whole party that one poem you absolutely refuse to let any of us see.”

A collective gasp rings across the room. Not even Will had seen that supposed poem! They’re not even sure if it exists. These are high stakes here.

Mike makes a face that’s got too many emotions to decipher though but Will thinks it makes him look constipated.

“You wouldn’t-“ Mike starts

“Oh but I would. And I did. So what’ll it be Wheeler?”

“Fine! Not like I was going to chicken out anyways. I’ll be the best god damn boyfriend any of you people have ever seen.” Mike says. Cheeks puffing out in annoyance.

“I’m not sure about that one considering your track record” El mumbles but everyone still hears.

Max starts cackling and Lucas has a fist covering his mouth looking away to keep from laughing himself.

Dustin has doubled over at the comment and Will is trying and failing severely to keep it together.

“El!!” Mike shouts, face a whole new shade of red and El just shrugs in reply.

Mike turns towards Will, betrayal written over his features and Will thinks it’s cute, mouthing a quick “sorry” though his laughter.

Mike rolls his eyes, plopping down next to him and leaning near his ear.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing considering I’m yours for a week now.”

That sobers Will up almost instantly. Mouth clinking shut before he turns his face towards his best friend in disbelief. Their noses brush at the movement and Will makes the weakest effort in existence to move back to give some space.

He goes to reply when Dustin pipes in with a quick

“You guys getting started already? Damn, I guess he was serious.”

The room is back to laughing eventually dissolving into regular conversation. Mike smiles quickly at Will before looking back at his friends joining in leaving Will reeling.

Will’s face is red for the rest of the night.

[beneathashadytree]

THE MORNING AFTER - TEXTING THE LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN

Warnings : mentions and references to the first time having sex together, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluffff <33

Additional notes : These men would be absolute SAPS the morning after, you guys can’t convince me otherwise. They’re just made to love wholly💗 To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽

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Taglist: @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @riinari-sa @flurrina @reika-desu @randomidk-123 @tikitsune @cofijelli @roll-of-royces @lemonsupernova @loveyoutodeep @belovedof @obiwanmcprobie @hawtlineblingz @kalatipunan @eurekazz @bifedebruxa @thescribeswife @mysticangel123 @xenasolos @jvnluvr @dann-acalle @rosariymchapter @rin-sv14 @yololesgo @an-ever-angry-bi @semi-orangeapple @lavanderbliss @myturnwhen @winterlvod @carsonology @deepzombieyouth @respitable @stellisangelicus-world @kvsqkiii @bitchynightmarepost @snoozeflare @spotted-salamander @cindywasneverhere @ladyparamount @sncrly0urs @huntersmoon1 @musiclover2119 @girl-who-lives-in-delusion @milktsukii @fromdeepspace-withlove @hrhmimieucliffe @icedunderwaterroom @granddearduck @skriblobz @nadinefromwhere @imhere2dosomething @saerotonins @cantescapethevoid @teewritessmth (more in replies!)

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[hayleythesugarbowl]

Omg if possible, could you do more Spencer with the fake insta stuff 😩😍😍 I’m absolutely loving it!!!

Dropping Hints || Spencer Agnew x reader (social media au)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: after you guest star in a smosh video, you and spencer start dropping hints of your relationship on insta

word count: 1k

warnings: mild language

a/n: ahh i’m so glad you enjoyed my previous spencer!insta fic (which u can find here!!) and i couldn’t resist writing this, i love this format sm. fem!reader. enjoy💋

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yourusername

liked by spennser, yourbestie, and 9,317 others

yourusername: take me back to smosh (and go watch their new vid bc i’m in it!! 💁‍♀️)

view all comments

smosh: we had so much fun filming with you!

⤷ liked by yourusername

ynmywife: omg i remember when she was just starting out 🥹 slay queen!

ribbitrabbit: my worlds are colliding rn

tweety122: i just watched it you’re so funny!

barbedcrier: i just watched it too (and i noticed how close her and spencer seemed 👀) myanacondadoes: barbedcrier omg same i just came from the vid and ur right they seemed like they already knew each other

urdad69: LOVE YOU (Y/N)!! 💙💙

yourbestie: I LOVE HER MORE ⤷ liked by yourusername

snazzyjoe: anyone else notice the pic of spencer?

jarshjarsh: YES!! not me staking all her socials looking for more evidence ursmoshismydrug: i love how this comment section is just detectives 😂 i just discovered (y/n) from smosh and i’m here for the tea 🤔

smosh_enjoyer: i’m actually in that photo

ladygagargoyle: yeah ok you wish yourusername: smosh_enjoyer omg i see you right behind the guy on the left ynslays: mother is mothering she’s so sweet 🥹🥹

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spennser

liked by co_mill, yourusername, and 12,413 others

spennser: smosh isn’t the same without yourusername

view all comments

jacklyn_uweh: and me though right?

spennser: wait who’s this 😃

yourusername: tag urself i’m the baby 💌🫶

⤷ liked by spennser

trevorevarts: hey that’s my hat!

amazingmayzie: you should do another don’t win mario party video!!

allie989: love you spencer

sabrinastan: omg so are spencer and (y/n) dating????

ynfangirly: i don’t know i can’t figure it out lmao maybe they might be thenotoriousrat: ynfangirly nahh there’s no maybe about it did you see the way he looked at her in that video? they’re together madmax: bro y’all need to calm down their just friends lolipopsfordays: madmax *they’re

yourbestie: you’re right yourusername he is cute

yourusername: 🫢🫢 livinlavidaloca: OMG OMG BESTIE MAKING AN APPEARANCE thefastandthefurriest: livinlavialoca and she didn’t deny it alskalskfg

laskfgai199: bring her back!! she’s so funny

spencerswife: yes i do the cooking yes i do the cleaning 🙇‍♀️

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yourusername

liked by spennser, erindougal, and 7,413 others

yourusername: pov u learned how to play fortnite today 👾

view all comments

spennser: pov u taught someone how to play fortnite today

yourusername: i taught myself thank you spennser: yourusername i have the 5 hours of my day to prove otherwise actually filmingamanda: i’m next!! ⤷ liked by yourusername

jerrylee77: oh my god he’s teaching her video games? they’re adorable 🥹

ricochetrhino: y’all im convinced they’re together

ynmylifemywife: she can’t be dating him bc she’s dating me 💁‍♀️ yourbestie: actually she’s dating ME

shimmyjimmy: they’re gonna pull a shourtney fr

spennser: yourusername which one of us is which though? yourusername: i’m shayne obviously spensser: i’ll be awaiting your proposal

thecashtoyourrubberband: ahh i love fortnite! have fun (y/n)!

americana19: i want their friendship

broseph_broestar: when she games 😏

milliebobbieorange: i tried to teach my bf how to play mario kart and he gave up lmao

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spennser

liked by mobile_suit_alex, phatchanse, and 21,014 others

spennser: was no one gonna tell me that i have four feet?

view all comments

yourusername: actually pretty sure two of those belong to me last i checked

⤷ liked by spennser

itsjustoneofthosedays: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP THIS BASICALLY COMFIRMS IT

rachelgreenismother: wait they’d make such a cute couple 🥹

tswizzle87: spencer is so down bad for (y/n) literally all his posts lately have been about her

shaynetopp: i meant to tell you, i swear

⤷ liked by spennser

yourbestie: y’all 😭🫶

mamasays22: if this is true, he could do better tbh

spennser: pretty sure you got that backwards my guy pastasupremacy: spennser GOT ‘EM yourbestie: yourusername if you don’t take him i will

handyrandy: refreshing my feed like it’s april 1st tbh i’m obsessed with them

jennifer_dunlap: spencer in the last pic is a whole ass mood 😂

ponchovilla: wait who’s the girl in the first pic??

yemenpopulationchandler: her name’s (y/n) and she’s a content creator but she was in one of smosh’s videos and her and spencer acted really close and now they started posting about each other all the time and everyone’s convinced they're dating barbaraanne: yemenpopulationchandler okay paragraph guy (but yeah that’s pretty accurate)

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yourusername

liked by spennser, kianaparker, and 4,019 others

yourusername: my bf has four feet 🤭

view all comments

spennser: i’d love to meet this four-legged man

yourusername: look in the mirror babes samsungmilkyway: THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT

captainofthedrarryship: THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT NOT A DRILL

girlsgirl17: wake up queen posted 👑

simpymcgee: (y/n) is so hot 🥵 like call me alex cooper the way i be calling her daddy 🧎‍♀️

kianaparker: hard launch! love you guys

⤷ liked by yourusername

charlottesweeb: OMG YES I KNEW IT

skinnyvinny: RIGHTTT WE SHOULD ALL WORK FOR THE FBI vectorsnumberonefan: i’ve never been this happy for someone else 🥺 sorry mom

yourbestie: f i n a l l y

yourusername: 🖕😊 (love you) yourbestie: yourusername love u more spennser: i love her most peachesfromatlanta: i can’t they’re too cute 😭😭😭

spencer_slut: they cure my depression

godisgood: now that they are officially dating do you think she’ll be on smosh again we need her back nowww 🙏

yourusername: i’m counting on it! ⤷ liked by spennser

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spennser

liked by yourusername, anthonypadilla, and 17,915 others

spennser: *insert taylor swift lyrics*

view all comments

yourusername: i believe the one’s you’re looking for are from paper rings or sparks fly

spennser: isn’t there one about coffee? yourusername: spennser that’s sabrina 🤦‍♀️ kissthegirl: not spencer thinking taylor sang espresso 😭 so happy for them

anthonypadilla: congratulations guys

⤷ liked by spennser

co_mill: the couple of all time

⤷ liked by yourusername

strawberrysugar: that coming from courtney is wilddd yourusername: we’re still on for that couples game night friday right? co_mill: yourusername only if you and spence are ready to loose shaynetopp: ^ what she said

registeredpreist: can i just say spencer is servinggg in that first pic

leftylucy: they’re so perfect together 🤩

yourbestie: already writing my speech for your wedding

⤷ liked by spennser

ianhecox: yourusername but has he told you about the kickstart yet?

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ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed loves!! this was a blast to write and i luv spencer so much 💌

[kiwanopie]

“What does it look like to see crime lord!kiyoomi blow up at someone threatening the reader?”

cw: mention of bathroom (reader has to number one lmao), character death, death by suffocation

wc: 2.4k

His head immediately turns when he hears your voice calling out for him.

You’re breathtaking in your ball attire. Glowing under the balmy haze of ballroom crystal lights as you duck into his gaze. You’re radiant, and It’s a chore to look anywhere else as Kiyoomi scans the large hall, leaning in to get a better listen at your voice. “What’s up, angel?”

“Can you come with me to the bathroom?” You whisper. “I’m too nervous to go by myself.”

Kiyoomi pauses to delegate a pensive moment. He was supposed to mingle with OneSource’s people to check in on his annual contract bonding. ‘Course there’s no reason to think that anything has changed - they’d have a death wish to pull out from something like Sakusa Enterprises - but it’s etiquette, and it’s still important to maintain general communication. At the very least uphold his reputation as a studious businessman.

He traces the fullness of your eyelashes from where you look up at him. “Mhm.”

Kiyoomi reaches for your hand and leads you to the laboratory.

He’s not the least bit embarrassed to be leading his wife into the otherwise empty women’s bathroom. And even if it weren’t, he doubts he’d be any less unfazed. - Impassive still as he watches you glide your way into the cleanest stall and close the door behind you. Kiyoomi leans against the sink as he waits for you to finish your business.

“Can you turn the sink on? I don’t want you to hear me tinkle.”

“Tinkle?” Kiyoomi snorts as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Baby, I hear you tinkle every day in our bathroom. Just let it out.”

“Yeah, but this is a public place,” He can hear you pout. “And I’m already nervous. I don’t want you to make fun of me for spotting.”

Spotting. He quietly titters again. I mean, he’s brushed his teeth with you planted on the bowl before, a little piss staggering wouldn’t even faze him. But still he grabs a paper towel, and uses it to turn the nodule on one of the sinks.

“Thank you!” The better portion of your dress lifts over your heels.

It’s only a few moments that it takes till he’s hearing the telltale sound of an automatic toilet whir into the room. Even with his eyes planted on his phone, he sees you neaten your dress back down in his peripheral. Dark blues turn velvety in the bathroom lights, and pretty spaghetti straps fall loosely on your shoulders; and with the way your hair so lively shines as you walk, he’s nearly convinced that you’re an angel.

His eyes light up with familiar adoration as you approach him at the sink, the smile you pass him is enough to turn his cheeks flowery. “How long is this party gonna last for?”

“Till two, but we can leave earlier than that if you want.”

“Are you having fun?” The soap in your palms audibly squishes as you lather your hands.

Kiyoomi sighs through his nose. “I’m making good connections, but you know me. Huge crowds like these start to break me out in hives. The sooner we can get out of here, the better.”

You ring your hands in the sink. “That makes you and I both then. There’s so many important people here that I can’t help but worry. I don’t want you or anyone else to get hurt just cause some bastard has a vendetta.”

You move for the air dryer on the side of him. “I saw Onslaught and Shinobu wandering the halls together. Those two dudes make it desperately apparent that they despise us.”

“They’re attention seekers, angel. They - No, don’t use that.”

You look at him curiously as he moves you by the arm to the paper towel dispenser. “Those things are disgusting, they’re riddled with germs.”

He snatches a few out for you. “I doubt anyone here has ever bothered to disinfect these.”

You simper as you finally wipe your hands down. “Oh. Well, thank you for looking out for me, baby.”

“Always.”

Kiyoomi slides his phone in his pocket as you move for the mirror again. “They’re attention seekers,” He starts again. “They know what my status is, they know that you and I are the most prevalent family running the underground business nowadays. Anybody who’s anybody should know that the Sakusa’s have owned the better half of Asia for decades. - It’s easy for them to stay relevant when they’re feuding with the most powerful empire in the game; regardless of what risk they’re putting on their lives by doing that.”

You eye yourself in the mirror. “They’re cockroaches. They’re just feeding off us for a little bit of business talk. What will it take for them to understand that business doesn’t even exist if it doesn’t come from you in some way.”

The little boost to his ego already turns him pink, but the way you spin in the mirror has his lips curling over his teeth. “Yeah? You’re absolutely right.”

His reflection mirrors the way he reaches out for you, pulling you closer in his direction, and softly pinching your cheeks with his calloused fingers. “But it’s nothing you’ve gotta worry your pretty head about, huh? - You’re really cute..”

You pout up at him. “What if they pick a fight with us?”

Kiyoomi kisses his teeth. Uncoupling the little grip he has on your cheek to smooth it over with his thumb, and let his blithe gaze settle on the dip in your lips. “As if they’d be so stupid. Self preservation reigns, angel. They all know better.”

You give him somewhat of an unimpressed look. “Death isn’t the price you pay for slighting us, Omi.”

“You’re right,” He hums. “It’s the price they pay for slighting you.”

You lean into the kiss Kiyoomi presses gingerly onto your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Omi.”

“So much.”

“Show me.”

He leans in for another one. A little firmer, somewhat tailed by a quiet hum but the way you move forward to deepen it has him openly sighing into your mouth. Long, savory, tender lip smacking. - Smoothing his grip under your jaw till you’re all but making out like a couple of teenagers. That’s how you make him feel - like a teenager. Jittery and palm sweaty. Meekend as you moan into the kiss and he’s rapt by butterflies. Breathless when you part from him and still overdosing on that contact high.

God, “I love you so fucking much.” He sighs.

“I love you so much more.”

Kiyoomi doesn’t think something like that could be remotely possible.

_____

Kiyoomi pushes your seat in for you as you both take your spots at the grand table.

There are many very important faces here. From the face of your renowned husband, to well known yakuza leaders, - High ranking members of The Sinaloa Cartel, Solntsevskaya Bratva, Sun Yee On, and so forth. With this many dangerous people at one table, most controlling near global power, it isn’t unheard of to feel a little out of your wits. You can’t show your fear as much as you want to, sitting at this table with your husband means sharing the collective power he has - and representing it as well. Much like the other wives and spouses sitting with their respective criminal lovers, you keep your cool with a natural grace. Still pretty even as your palms start to sweat.

Ken Shōhei, leader of the sixth generation yellow fangs, raises his glass to propose a toast. He glitters with shined jewels and gaudy rings as they reflect in the chandelier light. You glance at his wife before glancing at him. Catching a less than friendly evil eye that chills you straight to the blue bone. If you had to guess, they’re friends of Onslaught. If you had to guess again, you’d say it’s probably upsetting to realize you’re not the hottest foreign wife in the room anymore.

“Beautiful people of this nation - of your respective nations,” He begins. “Let us take this moment to reflect on the novelty of such business making and our untaintable honor. To the choices we’ve made thus far that has led us here. The chances we take that - understandably shouldn’t work out in our favor - but has. Our fortune, our hard work, the allies we’ve made today and the friends we’ll make tomorrow. I propose a toast to us. To our virtues, and to our decency. Let us all come together and celebrate ourselves.”

His wife smiles as she picks up her glass. “To ourselves!”

The rest of the table brandish their cups and follow suit. “To ourselves!”

The chatter continues as most of them take a quick sip to their glasses.

Or well, all except for you and Kiyoomi, who’s got the flute halfway to his lips before you stop him in his tracks. “Wait, baby.”

“Hm?”

You lean in to whisper softly. “These glasses don’t smell clean.”

“Hm?” Kiyoomi furrows as he dips his nose in his champagne flute. “They don’t-? Oh. Ew.”

He reaches for your glass. “Don’t even touch that. We’ll sanitize our hands after they-“

Someone’s choking.

Someone’s hacking and gasping for air right in front of you. Loud enough to startle as your head whips in the direction of whoever it is coughing up a lung across the table, and Kiyoomi instinctively reaches for you - pulling you by the bicep as he prepares to step out of his seat.

It’s an appropriate knee jerk reaction for what actually unfolds in front of you. Kiyoomi forces you to your feet as Shōhei’s body crashes into the fine cloth of the grand table and sends the majority of their plates crashing down with him. His shrill wheezing cuts into the silence that befalls the group of leaders as they stare down at him. Twitching and flailing before finally seizing up and you all watch in horror as he eventually goes limp.

You all watch in dread as his wife follows. Nithya, Maciej, Jalmari, Takashi, and Yuina, dropping to the floor in similar fashion. Some fall back in their seats in an effort to save themselves, some face plant into their plates before unceremoniously hitting the ground, but they all meet the same fate. Foaming at the mouth and blue from asphyxiation, all poisoned by something lethal likely slipped into their drinks.

Kiyoomi is the first to break the long stunned silence, calling over one of his underlings to meet him at the table.

He shoves his drink in his face. “Drink this.”

The man does so without hesitation.

After a few long moments the faceless scout looks generally unharmed which immediately raises red flags, but it isn’t over yet.

He hands him his wife’s drink. “And this?”

Another sip, another few long moments.

And then he’s falling to the ground.

You both stare in sickened shock as he flails on the ground just as the other victims did. Gasping for air as his spit foams over and the vessels in his eyes burst from suffocation. He’s dead within a few tortuous minutes, and Kiyoomi all but turns blue.

He nearly breaks his back with how quickly he turns for you, already frantically cupping your face in his hands. “Did you eat anything on the table? Have you eaten anything?”

There are tears in your eyes, rightfully. “N-No.”

He’s shaking. It’s a rare moment of weakness for the revered kingpin. One of the most frightening, if not the most frightening man in all of Asia - glassy eyed at the realization of his lover coming so close to death. He’s pink under eyes, pupils twitching back and forth as he frantically scans your face for any sign of change. The men and women surrounding the two of you take pause. It’s clear this is a shock to you both. That the man in question would rather kill over than put his wife in harm’s way, especially one so gruesome. ~ But there’s layers to this collective suspension shared among the room. Shock, confusion, apprehensity.

Fear.

As expected Kiyoomi’s reaction is less than pleased.

“Miya!”

At the sound of Kiyoomi’s booming voice, Atsumu races into the ballroom and up to the table. “Boss- Whoa, holy shit.”

“Bring me the heads of everyone in the kitchen,” His voice is vitriolic. It sends shivers up the spines of every living body in here. “All except for the chef. Pack him up in the shuttle.”

The boldness of the demand knocks Shinobu out of his daze, he’s kissing his teeth not even a moment later. “Don’t just start giving orders like you-“

“Shut the fuck up, Shinobu. Be thankful I don’t start picking from the table!”

One of the other businessmen at the table speaks meekly. “W-Wait. Let’s just... Everyone just-“

“Enough!” Kiyoomi narrows his eyes. And even to the most lethal of men in the room do they quaver at the venom in his voice. Sakusa Kiyoomi is not known for being an angry man. A spiteful man, sure. Cold and callous and cruel, on his worst days a little psychotic. There’s a scowl on his face more often than not, a sneer almost in the way he speaks to his adversaries and enemies alike. He’s known for being a mean son of a bitch - the meanest, really. But not angry. Not down right irate. Not so wrathful in the way he addresses the crowd around him.

“Someone here,” He breathes. “Has made an enormous lapse in judgment. If not to the leaders we just lost at this table; than to threaten me - to threaten my wife, my family,”

He’s firm yet earnest in his efforts to keep you behind him, nearly yanking you back by your arm but you bump into his firm back with one of his hands fastened over your waist. “You must’ve all forgotten that there is no one on this earth who I can’t get my hands on - especially for something so despicable. Whether they're in that kitchen or in this room, every second of their worthless life is borrowed from me. - Goro!”

The host of the ball swallows as he answers quickly. “Yes, Sakusa-san, sir?”

“Get me the names of everyone who’s been in or out of this place within the last forty eight hours, not a minute short.”

“Yes, of course.”

Kiyoomi nods his head for his men to follow as he drags his wife out by the hand.

[backwzzds]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ you look so good, ichigo kurosaki (nsfw)

ichigo always made sure to show you how good you looked.

you were sat alone at the bar, chin in the palm of your hand as you mindlessly swirled the olive around in your martini. you didn’t even drink martinis, but the flirty bartender insisted you tried his own speciality. you sighed for probably the millionth time that night, feeling your social battery finally die out.

countless men had hit on you tonight, all of which you hardly showed any mind. you were beginning to entertain the idea of engaging in mindless flirtation in response, but you knew the strawberry blonde waiting for you back at home would attest to that idea.

ichigo was of course working late on some soul reaper business. the even you attended was a couple’s banquet your job had hosted, a sort of offering for your co-workers to get to know you and your domestic life outside of work. you didn’t want to go at first; you preferred keeping your private life and work life completely separate. but ichigo managed to convince you to get out and have some fun anyway.

“c’mon, mama,” the strawberry blonde looked at you with encouraging eyes. “all you do is work, why not take the free night off and go? i know they’re gonna have some expensive ass shit there for drinks. you’ll look hot in that dress.”

you rolled your eyes. “you do know it’s a couple’s banquet, right? you gonna take the night off to go with me?” your eyebrows raised with crossed arms, already knowing the answer that was to come. you continue at ichigo’s silence. “thought so. i’m not sure if i even wanna go.”

well, here you were.

“sorry i’m late,” a voice as smooth as cashews filled your ears. “i’m here with y/n y/l/n, junior associate.” you look over and see ichigo at the entrance, skin clad in a suit that complimented his paler skin perfectly. he exchanges a few more casual words with the bailor at the front door before confidently striding his way on over to you. “hey there beautiful, his voice is silky as he stands in front of your sitting figure. stuffing his hands in his pockets, he starts the game you two have notoriously played for the years you’ve been together. “come here alone?”

you can’t help but roll your eyes in attempt to hide your smile, gladly playing along. “i sure did.”

ichigo catches on and continues. he blows out a surprised whistle as he steps closer to your thick figure. “damn. you don’t got a man?”

you can’t help but play along as you feel the alcohol of your drinks flood your bloodstream. “nope.”

ichigo stares into your eyes and squints his own. “you’re drunk.” his lips can’t help but form into a happy smile. the thing ichigo loved about you was that no one could ever tell you were drunk. you were able to keep your composure and behavior so well, only he was able to tell when you were intoxicated just by looking in those pretty eyes of yours. and he was shocked at the fact that you were actually drunk around hundreds of your coworkers.

a shrug erupts from your shoulders as you down the last of your drink. “i thought you weren’t coming?” though your voice proved otherwise in it’s naturally colder tone, you really were glad that ichigo came to support you, even if it was last minute.

“couldn’t miss something so important to my girl,” ichigo gives you his charming smile. his eyes can’t help but look you up and down as he took in your outfit. the little black dress was hugging your curvy body so tight, he almost wish you went a size up in the risky clothing so he wouldn’t have to resist himself against your full tits begging to be let out from the confinements of the ribbed fabric. he could see the outlines of your nipples through the thicker material, and it was turning him on the longer he stared at you.

the next words to leave his mouth are barely above a whisper. but from the sensual look of lust in his eyes, you already know what he’s trying to say. “come here.”

you drop your head back as ichigo grabs your cheek and presses his lips against yours. you can’t help but moan into the kiss as you feel his tall, slender body press against your short and pudgy one. the fabric of his own suit was blocking his body from yours, but he swore he could feel the areoles of your nipples pebble up and your nipples stand at attention through your dress in response to his touch.

it was no secret the effect he had on your body. he was so sure that if he pulled away right now and admired your figure, he’d see just how much his touch sent shocks through you. and that thought sent another devious one in his mind. you instantly feel the soul reaper’s hands discreetly slip its way between your legs and run its middle finger across the slit of your underwear.

ichigo smiled into the kiss, already knowing you were sporting a thong. lace at that too. he pecks your lips three more times amid the makeout session before pulling away and staring down at you with low-lid lovestruck eyes. “you look so good t’night, mama.”

your hardened personality shatters at his compliment. only he could bring out the softer side of you as you inevitably blushed and looked away from his gaze, muttering a small thank you. ichigo chuckled at your sudden shyness before pulling you up. “lets go dance before i get even more rock hard on this floor.”

[jeannineee]

Could you do head canons with the batboys + Lucien/Eris and which body part is their favorite, like if they were an ass or tits man? It doesn’t have to be just those 2 choices if that makes sense. Like I totally see Rhys and Cassian as thighs and stomach men lol

ACOTAR Men: their favorite part of you…

a/n: I went a little feral writing this. Requests open

nsfw under the cut (18+ please for real)

Rhysand:

Gonna go w/ anon here, and say that he’s definitely a stomach man, also tits.

As for your tummy, he loves how soft it is, and will lay his head on it while you stroke his hair.

Also loves the way it squishes as he fucks you

As for tits, he doesn’t care if they’re big or small, he’ll hold them like they’re stress balls. Even when he goes to sleep, he rests a hand on them. It’s a comfort thing.

Cassian:

Now I am a firm believer that Cassie loves thick, curvy women. I think all our batboys do tbh.

However!! His favorite part of you? Your thighs. Probably a bit of an ass man, too. But your thighs take the cake (was that a pun?).

Anywho, he loves putting a hand on your thigh when the two of you are sitting together.

LOVES squeezing your thighs randomly, just hard enough to hear you yelp. Also loves feeling them wrapped around his waist HELLO

As for your ass, he will shamelessly slap it in front of anyone, anytime. Doesn’t care.

Doggy is his favorite position for a reason.

Azriel:

ASS

Like, this male goes feral when you wear clothing that accentuates your ass.

Loves roughly groping it when you’re making out w/ him, or riding him, or in any position that gives him easy access to it tbh.

Azzie loves spanking, can’t convince me otherwise. Loves the marks he leaves on your ass. Also likes watching you squirm and try to get comfortable in your seat, after he spent the night before with you bent over his knee.

When you’re cuddling, he’ll always rest a hand on your ass.

Lucien:

I wanna say tits?

I just feel like he’s a tits man. Don’t ask me how I know. I just do.

Like, if you wear clothes that show off your titties?? He’s done for.

LOVES marking your tits when he fucks you.

Probably also enjoys fucking your tits

Always, always holds them during sex. Squeezing them, pinching and pulling your nipples.

Eris:

He’s a thigh man. Trust.

Will tie you up and mark your inner thighs until you’re soaked.

Goes crazy for the way they jiggle and shake around his waist as he thrusts into you.

Also loves when you squeeze them around his head when his tongue is between your legs.

Face-sitting so he can hold your thighs tight enough to bruise? Yes.

Thigh fucking? Also yes.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Can I make another little request for our Tony?

"You're the best hugger." "That's just the greatest compliment." *hugs them even tighter*

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Best hugs in the world

PAIRING || Baker!Boyfriend!Tony Stark x Girlfriend!Pregnant!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || ~ 675 words

SUMMARY || You’re convinced your boyfriend and father of your child is the absolute best hugger in the world, and anyone who dares to tell you otherwise hasn’t had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of one yet.

RATING || Teen (T)

TAGS || Bakery AU. Pregnancy fic. A bomb of pure fluff.

A/N || This is written for my Summer of Drabbles. Bestie, I cannot thank you enough for sending in this sugary sweet request, and I hope this story will have been everything you could have wished for and more! I can’t wait to show more of their dynamic in future stories, as these two are some of my favorites to write for! 🤍

Photo: @ccbsrmsf1 || Other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Baker!Tony Stark || Summer of Drabbles

It’s been a long day for both you and Tony at his bakery - while he’s been working from early in the morning to well into the afternoon, you swung by for a few hours to help out during the afternoon rush - and now, you’re finally on your way home together, on your way to get some much-needed rest.

Even though it’s still relatively early in your pregnancy, it’s still draining a lot of your energy, and if it were up to Tony, you would already stay home and relax as you’re growing a human inside your belly. However, you have convinced him you can still work a few hours while he is also at the bakery, wanting to keep an eye on you whenever possible.

“How’re you feeling, Peach?” he asks, his hand gently squeezing your thigh as he looks at you. You’re waiting for the traffic light to turn green, and you close your eyes, feeling the warmth of the late afternoon sun on your skin, as you lay your head against the rest behind you.

“I'm exhausted,” you admit, your weariness evident in your voice. He can see it in your eyes, and a pang of concern grips his heart at the sight, fearing that even the few hours you’ve been on your feet today may have been too much.

Just as he’s about to say something, the light turns green, and he doesn’t mention the topic for now, making a mental note to talk about it once you’re feeling better. He wants nothing but the best for you and your baby, and even though they’re not here yet, he can’t stop thinking about the joy of becoming a Dad. A smile tugs on his mouth as you look over, making your heart swell with love.

“Sometimes, I still can’t seem to grasp the concept that you’re growing a baby, our baby. A little human! With ten fingers, ten toes, a perfect nose, and the chubbiest cheeks,” he says proudly, his voice filled with warmth and love as he talks about them.

“But sometimes, all I can think about is what it would be like to hold them in my arms. What it would be like to be held by those ten fingers and tickled by those ten toes as I kiss their nose. However, the one thing I do hope is that they’ll have your beautiful eyes, Peach. Because seeing them makes me feel like I’m home and safe,” your boyfriend says, which makes tears gather in your eyes.

“Well, I was going to say that I think they’re just as good of a hugger as you are, but I don’t think my comment will top yours!” you say with a sniffle, though you also laugh through it. He always knows the right things to say as he tugs at your heartstrings, and today isn’t any different. He’s always been excellent with words, which is proof of that.

When Tony pulls into the garage of the apartment complex where you live together, he quickly gets out as soon as he’s parked, wanting to help you out of the car. Then, instead of turning around to close the door like you usually would, you wrap your arms around his waist, your cheek pressed firmly against his chest, making Tony blush at the sudden movement.

For a moment, you pull back enough to look at him and admire his flushed cheeks and soft gaze before giving him a piece of your mind.

“I have to say, you’re the best hugger I’ve ever known, and I can’t wait for our little Cupcake to experience them too,” you say, at which you both smile so widely your cheeks start to hurt a little.

“That’s just the greatest compliment, Peach. But now I’m definitely not letting you go anytime soon!” he says before gently pulling you closer again, hugging you tighter. In his arms, you feel safe, and you can only hope your baby will feel the same when they’re in his arms.

[moonshynecybin]

short fic (~1000 words ish) i wrote inspired by @kingofthering's wonderful fake dating au which you can find here ! go read it... anyways thinking about valentino and anger and his love languages and his insane little brain and PERFORMANCEEE and fame being a nightmare. anyways:

“And so my question, I suppose, is about your previous comments about Marc— would you say that you’ve put your feud behind you?”

Vale feels Marc shift from one foot to the other, his shoulders tensing under the lazy stretch of Vale’s arm. He’d tucked him there as soon as they’d entered the room, hoping the physical contact would sell it a bit more— give the two of them something to fall back on in front of the press— make their answers more convincing. Pictures sell faster than words, in his experience. But he shouldn’t have worried, Marc’s media training is a well exercised muscle, and his usual wide smile is pasted across his face. He’s good at this, but Vale may be the only person in the room who can tell how nervous he actually is, his slight change in posture and the rigid line of his jaw giving him away. Valentino is not exactly at ease, himself. It's the first time in quite a while that a press conference has made him feel like he was about to vomit.

Camera flashes light up in a dazzling flurry, pulling Vale back into the present. The entire room is holding its breath, paying careful attention to their answer, dying to know how two of the biggest stars in motorsport went from hating each other to being photographed together with one of them on their knees in the span of a calendar year. Sharks smelling chum in the water.

So Vale makes himself laugh, open and gregarious. Does what he does best— make it into something funny. Something that can’t touch him. Bring everyone else in on how hilarious it is, how absurd. Because if he thinks about it too long he feels like smashing things. He cannot fucking believe the nerve of this reporter. Cannot believe he has to do this. Cannot believe that Yamaha had asked him to let Marc do this alone. Cannot believe he thought about letting him. Cannot believe they’re pretending that they’re— that they—

“I would hope so! It would make being together very difficult otherwise.” He says, light enough to be a joke, gesturing between Marc and him. Marc’s hand tightens on his waist, catching against the smooth fabric of his Yamaha shirt. It’s the first verbal confirmation of what they said in their joint press release— that they’ve been dating. That they are together. That sometime in the off-season they’d reconciled and fell in love.

Of course, that’s not exactly what happened. It’s just harder to explain to the world that the sex you’ve been having with your rival 14 years your junior has been— well. Decidedly closer to something like hate sex than the kind of sex you have with a person that you’re in a committed relationship with. And that a lucky paparazzo had simply been in the right alleyway at the right time. And that Marc and him had barely been on speaking terms before the photo had hit the front page of every major publication in the world.

So here they are.

“And what about last year’s championship? Do you still hold the same opinion about Marc and Jorge Lorenzo's actions at the end of the year?” Another journo asks.

Vale pushes down the wave of emotion, hot and tense—embarrassed—that crests in his chest when he thinks about last year. That’s not what he’s here to do. He grits his teeth, instead. Keeps on smiling. He turns a little, uses the height difference between him and Marc to smile down at him, face close to his, and really sell it. The perfect couple. He winks back at the press.

“It sounds like you all want me to sleep on the couch!” He tries, and the tension in the room breaks, laughter tittering up from the press corp. A bomb defused. “No no no no, Marc and I, we are fine. We are better than fine, even! We are—“ He looks back at Marc, still too close, and pauses when he sees something complicated and delicate playing over his face. Something a little too real to be acting. But Marc quashes it when he sees Vale looking, and turns back towards the room, grin huge and polite. Vale’s words catch in his chest and tangle there for a moment, coming out a little stilted. He covers it with a theatrical shrug and a big smile. “We are good.”

As the press laugh, Marc’s shoulders unspool where they’re pressed against Vale—and he can tell Marc is relaxing, a little. Letting out some of whatever breath he’s been holding. It’s clear that what they’re doing, what Vale is saying, it’s working– the press swaying back to their side as they absorb the news, the shock of the two of them together. The picture they make.

Vale rubs a thumb over the bone of Marc’s shoulder. He's warm. 

Marc starts to speak. “You know, that is in the past. Valentino and I…” He searches for the words in English, brings a hand up to fiddle with his ear– one of his nervous tics. “We had a not so good relationship at the end of last year. But in the off-season, we talk. And learn to separate on-track and off-track. It is good between us.”

And Vale just about can’t stand that, even though he knows this is the plan. He can’t very well smooth this photo thing over and air his grievances at the same time. Doing this is the path of least resistance, he remembers. He tells himself. The one most palatable to the masses– him and Marc, united. Love overcomes all, he thinks bitterly. 

A journalist picks their head up.

“So it’s serious between you two, then? This is for real?”

Vale looks at Marc again, watches the slight flutter of his eyelashes, blinking as the question hits him. Vale wonders what he’s thinking about. If he’s wondering why they’re doing this, now in front of the whole world. If he’s asking himself how they let it get this far. Wondering why he got to his knees in that alleyway when Vale had told him to. Why he’d raced Vale the way he had the entire second half of last season. 

Marc’s smile dims, just for a second, and Vale pulls him closer.

He crushes the instinct to crack a joke just for Marc, to make him smile for real. To ask him why he’d had that look on his face a moment ago. To ask him to come to his trailer later just to– talk. Not to strategize with their PR teams, with their families. To just– be. Like it was before.

But that’s just not the kind of lives they lead. That’s not possible.

Valentino turns back to the press. Smiles. Lies.

“It’s real.”

[throneofsapphics]

mor and archeron sister! reader, where they are in a secret relationship?

met you in the bathroom 

Mor x f!Reader 

Summary: She could see the ‘sorry’ forming on your lips, but it died when you realized she was in there. 

Warnings: suggestive situations, mentions of alcohol, kinda toxic relationships

A/N: thank you for the request! this was fun to write

Mor’s body pressed against yours, pinning you tightly into the alcove. The hall was dark, filled with some kind of faux-smoke, and perfect for one of your stolen moments. Still, this was dangerous.

Those thoughts were forgotten as her hands gripped your hips, forehead pressed against yours, both of you panting. Vaguely, you heard the sounds of Rita’s in the background, the music and dancing, the clanking of chairs, tables, and glasses, and knew this was risky. Despite the dark corners, anyone could walk back here. If someone looked a tad too closely, they would recognize the glint of Mor’s golden hair, her beauty and contagious aura. A web you’d easily fallen into, and found yourself never wanting to leave. 

“We can’t do this anymore,” she breathed. 

“I know,” you played this dance every time, but you always came back for another hit - to chase this high again. 

“We can’t,” she emphasized, “they’re catching on to something.” 

Finality. Mor really meant it this time. It would’ve happened eventually, you knew that. Even if you tried to convince yourself otherwise. Always a secret, like a dirty little journal she kept hidden in the back of her closet, shielded from everyone’s view. 

“Would that be so bad?” You forced yourself to look in her eyes, you wanted to see every emotion and reaction going through her. No matter what, you had to know how she really felt. If this meant as much to her as it did to you. Pain flashed through her features. 

“We can’t.” 

The same two words, slicing a blade through your chest. 

“Why?” Mother above, maybe you were begging but … later you’d blame it on the alcohol. 

“Because,” she shook her head, taking a step back, as if you couldn’t possibly understand. The hurt must’ve shown on your face, even in the dim lighting. “For what it’s worth,” she paused, studying your features. “It meant something to me.” 

With a faint smile, she walked away. Like it meant nothing at all. 

Clenching your dress in your fists, you steeled yourself. How were you supposed to act like everything was okay now? Facing your sisters, facing everyone. The entire inner circle was gathered here tonight, gathered for a celebration. Bathroom, that’s where you could collect yourself. 

A few minutes later, a few pep talks, and you strode out. Every bit confident, maybe your hair a little messy, but composed enough. Enough they’ll write it off as the dancing. 

What would you say if they asked where you went? Nothing. Let them make their own assumptions. Maybe smile, maybe wink, depending on who asked. Instead of hurt, you let resentment take place. That was easier to handle. How many weeks and months had you wasted on each other? Too many. You should’ve known it would never work out. But, now that it was said and done, you wouldn’t let the memory of her hold you back. That’s what this little … secret would become - a memory. 

-

Mor wasn’t jealous. She watched you, of course. Keeping an eye on her High Lady’s sister. A very distant eye. If she got too close to you, even alone in the same room, she wouldn’t be able to handle herself. Whatever you had, it was dangerous. You were an addiction she had to cut off, a tide threatening to take her out and drag her under. Centuries of fear kept her from taking anything further. Maybe it was centuries of habit. Lovers never lasted, not with her situation. A few months ago, Feyre started sending her curious looks, whenever the two of you were in the same room together, and that’s when she knew it had to end. 

The most infuriating part was how you acted like there had never been anything in the first place. Every time your eyes met, you’d give her a friendly smile. Exactly how you looked at the rest of them, but she saw right through it. There was a small difference, a different kind of gleam in your eyes when you looked at her. Nobody else would pick up on it, you were that good. As far as she knew, nobody suspected a damn thing. Azriel had thrown a few curious looks her way once in a while, but he hadn’t said anything. 

She’d hurt you that night, and regretted it. Every relationship she had, every lover she took, always ended in tragedy or a nightmare, and she needed to cut it off before it got to that point, before the pain would destroy both of you. 

Starfall, and she was trying to get herself together in the gods-damned bathroom. Bracing her hands on the sink, she laughed, looking up at her expression. There were still a few minutes to spare, before anyone would start asking questions. Before her date came looking for her. 

The handle fumbled. Shit she hadn’t locked the door. Mor barely moved out of the way in time for it to fling open, you leaning heavily against it, cheeks flushed. She could see the ‘sorry’ forming on your lips, but it died when you realized she was in there. 

You both moved at the same time, closing the distance between you, your foot kicking the door closed, her hand clicking the lock in the place. 

-

“This can’t happen again,” she said, and you watched as Mor brushed a washcloth against the corner of her mouth, trying to fix the smeared rouge. A mess you’d made, and mother save you, you loved it. 

“Where’s your date?” You asked curiously, leaning up against the wall. Her eyes met yours through the mirror, and a small smile tilted on your lips. 

“Does it matter?” Mor’s voice was hoarse. 

Scanning her body, you shook your head softly, “not when you’ll be thinking about me for the rest of the night.” 

Gripping the handle, you let yourself out of the room, leaving a shocked Mor behind. Bold suited you. 

[wastingawayinmyroom]

@jegulus-microfic prompt: improve word count: 641 words

warning: moments during and after a nightmare (walburga’s a+ parenting)

inspired by a rosekiller microfic i saw recently. can’t remember the author, but they’re amazing.

…

He’d been doing so well. So, so well.

The nightmares were going away, slowly. No flashbacks, no seeing something and suddenly being trapped in that house all over again, his mother’s suffocating love and his brother’s screams, no, no, no. Gone. All gone. Well, almost.

He’d been improving. That was the main thing. James always said, that no matter how small it was, a little improvement was always an improvement.

Improve, improve, improve. And here he is now. Eight years old again. In that cursed house. Screams and anger are blending together. His cheeks are wet. Why is he crying? Heirs to the house of Black do not cry. He’s not an heir. He’s not cut out to be an heir.

She’s saying something. She says she loves him, she really does. She wants the best for him.

Is this the best? He wants to ask her that, but he does not say anything. He sits. He listens to screams. Sirius’ screams, maybe his own. He does not know. He is scared. He wants his brother.

She does not like his brother. His brother did something. Something bad. He can feel his brain slowly shutting down, his mind filling with thoughts and emptying simultaneously, and he hates it. He feels like he’s going crazy. Maybe he is.

He wants to scream. He does, he thinks. Very loudly. And she’s angry again, and he’s scared, and he just wants someone to hold, and he thinks—

He gasps.

It’s night. He’s in bed. There’s someone next to him, he can see them sleeping, snoring soundly. The sheets move up with every breath they take.

The next thing he registers is brown hair, and the first thing he thinks is, Oh, James.

But he can’t relax.

He gets up, stumbles to the bathroom. He can’t breathe. He feels trapped, like he’s back at the old house. So he turns on the tap, sets it to the coldest temperature, and runs it through his hands, splashes it on his face. He’s still trapped, still eight, but a little bit safer now. A bit better.

Hands wrap around his waist. A face pressed into his curls. They stay there until he can think again. Until the only reason his hands are shaking is the cold water. He shuts the tap off. Allows James to take him back to bed when he asks. Snuggles in the warmth and brings his knees up to his chest.

James does the same, pressing their noses together, legs knocking, and Regulus drinks in the warmth, the comfort that this man brings him. “Cuddles?” He asks, voice still rough from sleep. Regulus feels guilty for waking him up, but god, the sound of his voice is enough to convince him otherwise.

He nods slightly, still reeling from the nightmare. He takes James’ arm, rolls over, and brings his arm along with him, and James understands. He presses himself onto Regulus, and that’s enough to let him breathe again, nice and slow.

“I was doing so well,” he whispers. James cups his face, staring into his eyes like they’re the whole Milky Way. “I ruined it.”

James shakes his head. “No,” he says, “Improvement is an abstract thing. It happens in weird ways. Ma told me, once, that improvement is also experiencing the thing again, too.” He shifts, slightly, to get a better view of Regulus’ face. “It’s seeing how much you’ve changed in the way you deal with it.”

Regulus closes his eyes. “Je ne te mérite pas,” he says. I don’t deserve you.

“Hm?”

“I love you,” he says.

James smiles, and he wants to put that smile in a bottle and get drunk on it every night. “Me too, Jaan.” Me too, my soul.

He drifts into sleep like that, with his boyfriend.

Improvement, he thinks, is an abstract thing.

[bokutosbiceps]

Who do you think out of the Kengan cast are girl dads? Give your personal takes😝

okay okay okay okay. here are my personal takes + honestly they’re right so these are, in fact, law. i also included some kengan omega characters 😉

ps. the dudes that i left out, i believe, would not be a good father/i can't see them as a father or they would likely be closer to their son(s). for example, i can't really see gaolang as a father. he's a daddy, sure, + would be a top tier husband, but as a father i think he'd be super traditional + distant from his kids. raian, on the other hand, would likely see his kids only as "weapons" in the sense he wants to make them strong, but he'd also be closer w a son if he had a kid.

tokita ohma is a girl dad. he’d be anything his daughter wants him to be + he loves her to absolute death. he’d kill for her. he’ll raise her to be the biggest girl boss in the world + he’s incredibly proud of her, no matter what she decides to do. he’s not really great at the advice + wisdom part, but he’s very comforting + supportive. 

narushima koga is a girl dad. he’s so afraid, though. he’s so afraid he’ll mess his daughter up or teach her the wrong things but his daughter loooooves him. he seriously can’t get away, not that he would want to though. they’re best friends + he adores her. would kill + die for her. also, her biggest hype man.

hatsumi sen is a girl dad. he knows how bad men can be + is suuuper protective of his little girl. he’s basically like her shadow, but not in a creepy way. if anyone messes with his daughter, they’re fucking dead. he’s also at the mercy of absolutely anything she wants. he spoils the absolute fuck outta her.

himuro ryo is a girl dad. he’s a girl dad in the way that he doesn’t really see the point of separation of the sexes + he believes that anything a guy can do, a girl can do just as well or even better. he will instill this confidence in his daughter + watch her take over the world. he’s her number one fan 🥺

jose kanzaki is a girl dad. kiind of like sekibayashi but to a much less degree. he’s the kinda girl dad that lets his daughter do absolutely whatever she wants + will back her 100%, especially if what she wants to do is in a male dominated field. he’s gonna help her bring down tHE FUCKING PATRIARCHY. 

KANOH AGITO IS A GIRL DAD. YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. ABSOLUTELY WHATEVER HIS DAUGHTER WANTS HIM TO BE HE WILL TO THE ABSOLUTE BEST OF HIS ABILITY. FIND THIS MAN GIVING HIS DAUGHTER PIGGY BACK RIDES, SHOULDER RIDES, ETC ALL DAY EVERY DAY. HE WANTS TO LEARN HOW TO DO HER HAIR SO HE CAN BE USEFUL TO HER. HE WANTS TO LEARN MORE ABOUT WHAT SHE LIKES SO THEY CAN TALK EVEN MORE. HE WILL TRY HIS BEST TO GIVE HER ADVICE + HE WANTS TO SEE HER SUCCEED AT ANYTHING SHE PUTS HER MIND TO. ALSO. IF YOU MESS W HER YOU’RE GOING TO BE WIPED FROM EXISTENCE.

lihito is a girl dad. In a similar way to Sen, he knows how men can be + will be super protective of his daughter. BUT he’s kinda awkward around her. he sees are as such a precious little thing + is super scared of fucking it up. he loves her from afar though + is always always always there for her when she needs him.

mokichi robinson is a girl dad. need i say more?

muteba gizenga is a girl dad. he’s his daughter’s best fucking friend. they wreak havoc together. he teaches her everything he knows + is her biggest fucking fan. he’s a Grade A Dad.

SEKIBAYASHI JUN IS A FUCKING GIRL DAD. HE’S OUT HERE BEING THE BEST FRIEND, FATHER, TEACHER, IN THE WORLD. HE IS THE BEST DAD. HE’S SO WISE + SO CARING + SO PROTECTIVE. he’s never done a single thing wrong. i want him to be my father actually.

takayama minoru is a girl dad. he’s the sweetest w his daughter + she prefers him over everyone. so gentle + so kind. wow 🥺

[natimiles]

RANDOM HEADCANONS ABOUT ISAAC

Platonic/General:

★ Huge urge to protect you, even though his two responses are “run or flight”. He tries his best. He attempted to bite you on your first night, so he made it his personal goal to never do it again and to protect you from anyone (Arthur) who tries to bite you (Arthur), even if it’s just teasing (Arthur).

★ He loves it when you protect him too. He will come to you when he needs advice on something or needs to hide from Arthur and Dazai. You’re scolding the two writers, and Isaac is behind you, hugging you around your shoulders, a huge pout on his mouth, and glaring at them too — it’s not as threatening as he thinks.

★ He listens to your every trouble without judging (much). Be warned that if you mention liking someone he believes is not worthy of you, he will say his piece about it.

★ He can draw and you can’t convince me otherwise. He might not be as talented as Vincent, but he can do some sketches. He tells everyone he’s busy with work, but he’s drawing some random scenery to relax. You’re the only one who knows about it. He will draw you, but never show it to you — unless you accidentally find it and now he’s a shy mess.

Romantic:

★ He’d go to the future with you, if only you asked. He has new friends in the mansion, even though he denies it, but they’re not really keeping him there. He’s been there for only 5 years. And you can’t convince me that he wouldn’t be curious about the future and all the technology. 

★ If he goes to the future, he’ll use his real name without problems. It’s not like people would suspect he’s the real Isaac Newton. Modern people tend to name their kids after historical figures and celebrities, so it wouldn’t be a big deal. And that would make you Mrs. Newton.

★ Although he’s comfortable living in the mansion, he wants to live with you when you get married (contrary to the wedding event). I mean, you two are starting a new life and a new family together (even if you don’t have kids, it’s still a family!), it doesn’t make sense (to me) to continue living with 11 other men that want to fight for your attention. You’d visit them often though, and have nice family lunches together on Sundays.

★ His love language is undoubtedly ‘acts of service’. Whatever he can do for you, he will. Whether it’s splitting all the house chores with you or cooking something to cheer you up, he’s always ready to lend a helping hand. He can tell when you’re too tired, and he won’t let you do anything besides resting. Don’t even try; it’s a lost battle for you.

★ I’ve searched everywhere and didn’t find a pet name he uses. So, here’s a list I think he’d call you: dear, darling, my little apple pie and apple of my eye. For obvious reasons (Arthur and Dazai), the last two are only used in private.

★ He’d look ravishing with his ears pierced, something like the ear cuff the van Goghs have or a hoop like Arthur. And that’s just me simping.

NSFW:

★ He likes your breasts/nipples, so he might be into you playing with his too.

★ He’s shy the first time you bring up the idea of trying new things, but he really likes it. In the bath? Check. Temperature play? Check. Blindfold? Shibari? Mirrors? Impact play? Check, check, check, check! Wherever your imagination takes you, he’s following you with a furious blush. Hello, Mr. Wolf!

★ What I think he ends up liking: shibari or simple handcuffs, edging and begging, mirrors (he loves looking at you), blindfold (for you, same reason), nipple play (duh), dirty talking and biting (yup, for both).

★ He has a praise kink and nothing changes my mind. Don’t even try degrading him.

★ He is a switch. He likes it when you make a mess of him, edging him until he can’t take it anymore. But be warned: hello again, Mr. Wolf! He will tease you and he loves to hear you asking, begging. Light touches that only make you more horny, squirming under him; he shoots you a smirk and tells you to use your words.

★ He is loud as fuck.

Countdown to Isaac’s Birthday: random hcs | 4 days!

[wandas-lovey]

I’m being delulu so i started wondering (¡again!) what life with five would be post-season 3. But like…he’s a teacher in this…

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

* after all his siblings left when Reggie reset the universe you’re left with a mopey five

* you’re both pretty sad the first couple of days having just lost the people you love most :(

* but we don’t have time to be sad we need to get jobs!!!

* im gaslighting myself into believing that five and you have a place to stay the first night in the new timeline instead of being homeless 💀

* five becomes a teacher in the new timeline and you can’t convince me otherwise

* and what do you know!! you become a teacher too :D

* five would definitely teach math while you’d teach history (cuz you traveled through time when working with the commission, idk just go with it)

* while your classes may be a bit hard for the students you two are definitely the schools favorite teachers!!

* i mean why wouldn’t you be? the students can’t get enough of the two mysterious young teachers who showed up out of nowhere in the middle of the school year….

* you two definitelyyyy didn’t threaten the previous math and history teachers to quit their jobs or else they’d be dead by nightfall

* I just know many students are crushing on you BOTH. have you seen yourself lately? You look great ;)

* you both find it funny tho cuz they believe they’re crushing on teachers who are in their early 20s when it’s actually two 50 year olds in their younger bodies

* you two wouldn’t be the type to eat lunch with the rest of the faculty. you’d eat together in each other’s classroom enjoying your time together even if it’s for a short time

* five’s the type of boyfriend/teacher who interrupts your class for the dumbest reasons just cuz he wants to see you :,)

“can i borrow your stapler for a minute?”

“i’m in the middle of class right now”

“Yes I’m aware but i need to finish stapling the students review packets”

“you bought a stapler yesterday…”

“yeah but yours works better”

“OUT!!!”

*your students definitely find it cute :)

* after witnessing playful banter between the teachers that was a little too ~flirtatious~ the students get suspicious of what’s actually going on between their math and history teacher

* “are-are you and mr.hargreeves together..?”

* up until this point neither of you have confirmed to your students what your relationship was with each other

“unfortunately we are” you say with a smile on your face

*after confirming your relationship that day, your students spent the rest of the class asking you all types of questions about your relationship

“how did you and mr.hargreeves meet??”

“how long have you been together?”

“did you ask him out first or did he ask you?”

“why did you wait this long to tell us??”

*when your classes switch out and head to their next class with mr.hargreeves they try and pester him too about your relationship

“why aren’t you married yet?!?”

“ oh wow. i didn’t realize that was any of your business”

* you two are the kind of teachers to always be chosen to be chaperones for school dances.

*five definitely complains the entire night about being tired and wanting to go home

*who could blame him. watching over teenagers for hours making sure no one’s bumping uglies is exhausting

“how much longer till we can leave? This music’s awful. I’d rather throw myself off a building than be here.”

“Five…we just got here”

“What’s your point?”

*after a long night of watching over whore-knee kids, you head home ending the night with curling up on the couch and falling asleep in each other’s arms while The Breakfast Club plays in the background

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

i have no clue how to fucking end this 💀

also this shit ain’t proofread

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A year later and this post is still better than the way season 4 ended 🤨🤨

[racerchix21]

These are my people

My entry for day 3 of @bucktommypositivityweek: Meeting each others friends and family

Nonna Carmelina was inspired by Riley’s Nonna stories (@rdng1230)

They’ve been dating 4 months when Tommy comes over after a shift and drops the bombshell. Bucks grateful he’s sitting when the words ‘so my mom and Nonna wanna meet you’ leave Tommy’s lips because he’s almost positive he would’ve fallen otherwise. He can tell by the way that Tommy looks nervous that it’s caught him off guard too.

“They wanna meet me? Like the 2 most important women in your life wanna meet me,” Buck questions reaching over to grasp Tommy’s arm. “How do you feel about me meeting them babe? I know you’re pretty protective of both of them and we can hold off on me meeting them if you want.”

“I should be the one reassuring you about meeting them and here you are telling me that we can hold off,” Tommy says pulling his arm out of his boyfriends grasp to instead tangle their fingers together.

“T, baby I know that you met my family so quick after we got together. Quite literally a couple dates and a few after we met so I understand if you don’t wanna rush me meeting yours,” Buck answers squeezing Tommy’s hand 3 times in their silent way of saying I love you without using the words.

Tommy cracks a small smile before squeezing Buck’s hand in reply. “Yeah Nonna called me this morning and asked if we’d wanna come over for Sunday supper this weekend. She and my mama wanna meet the man who’s been making me so happy the last few months. I told them I’d ask you and call them later.”

“Yeah let’s go have supper with your family,” Buck says excitedly. “I wanna meet the women who helped to shape the most amazing man I’ve ever met. I know I should be nervous about it but from everything you’ve told me your mom and Nonna sound like strong independent badass ladies and I can’t wait.”

“You really wanna meet them? They’d understand if you decided you wanted to hold off longer.”

“Baby are you okay with me meeting them?”

“Of course I want you to get to know them. It’s just your first boyfriend I’ve had where I can see myself having a future with them. And I’m gonna shut up now.” He’s trying to extract his hand so he can get up to pace.

“First of all I’m honored that you can see a future with me because believe it or not I see the rest of my life being spent with you too. Second of all Thomas if you wanted to right this second to fly to Vegas and get married by a guy in a really bad Elvis costume I’d ask when we were leaving.”

When Tommy chuckles Buck knows he’s succeeded in getting his man to relax. “So tell me what I need to know about them.”

“My mom just moved here to Corona to help my Nonna. Mom finally found the strength to leave my father last year and this move has been really good for both of them. You can call my mom Andi and Nonna Lina.”

“Andi and Lina huh? Noted. Anything else or do you go curl up on the couch and watch a movie?”

“Well what else you wanna know?”

“What kind of people are they? Obviously you’re pretty great so they’re amazing too but what’s your favorite memory of them?”

“They’re amazing Evan. Going to my Nonna’s every weekend was the thing I looked forward to every week. Her house was the only place where my dad never dared raise his voice or a hand to mom and I either one. She put the fear of God and Nonna in him early on in his relationship with my mom. I’m pretty sure she had him convinced for awhile that she had Italian mob connections so he knew better than to hit either of us when Nonna Lina was around.”

“The mob huh? She sounds like a real firecracker so what about your mom then?”

“She is a firecracker and my god my mom is as stubborn as the day is long. She protected me the best she could against my dad. She’s not afraid to fight to protect her family and honestly you’re a lot like her babe. She stands up for the little guy regardless of the odds stacked against her.

Hey you think maybe we could go watch a movie now,” Tommy asks through a yawn.

“Of course. Give me a couple minutes and I’ll be right there and we can watch Love, Actually or whatever movie Hallmark has on,” Buck answers heading for the stairs to grab a huge blanket to wrap Tommy up in.

*****

Sunday dawns faster than either of them anticipates and he finally feels himself getting nervous because these are the women who shaped the love of his life into who he is.

Now sitting in the passenger seat of Tommy’s truck he’s trying to calm his breathing. “You’re absolutely positive they wanna meet me?”

“Yes baby. When I called Thursday morning before my shift Nonna squealed at the fact you agreed to come meet them. Knowing her and mom they’ve probably been prepping food since I got off the phone with them,” Tommy answers placing his hand on his boyfriends thigh to squeeze it before lacing their fingers together.

“They’re gonna love you like I do. Now come on let’s go in before Nonna comes out here and drags us in,” Tommy says pulling up in front of a cute little bungalow set back from the street.

Just as Buck opens his door to step out he’s met with two blurs as Lina and Andi come flying across the yard to hug Tommy before finding himself with an armful of Tommy’s Nonna.

“You must be Buck. Our Tommaso has told us so much about you but he must of forgotten to mention how handsome you are. TOMMASO how could you not tell us he was adorable,” Lina asks glaring at Tommy.

“Nonna,” Tommy groans good naturedly.

“Well aren’t you gonna introduce us,” his mom asks tapping her foot staring at her son.

“Yes sorry. Evan this is my mom Andriana and my Nonna Carmelina. Momma, Nonna this is my boyfriend Ev-Buck,” Tommy stumbles over Buck’s name.

“Well Buck it’s nice to finally meet the boy that’s been making our Tommy so happy,” Andi says pulling Buck into a hug.

“It’s nice to meet both of you too, ma’am.”

“Come let’s go grab some drinks before we ask Buck a bunch of questions,” Nonna calls over her shoulder leading everyone back into the house.

Leaning in Tommy whispers in his boyfriends ear, “sorry about that Ev. Nonna gets bossy when it comes to her family and I’m pretty sure she’s already claimed you as one of hers.”

Spinning to give Tommy a kiss, Buck laughs because it’s nice to have a couple more women who care about him and tells Tommy as much.

***

Finishing a delicious supper and helping to clean up the kitchen, Nonna reminds Buck that he’s always welcome to come visit with or without Tommy. “Now Buck before you guys leave just remember I have connections to people who can make you disappear so take care of my grandson, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” Buck dutifully answers leaning down to kiss her cheek before stepping back into Tommy’s embrace. “I have no plans to hurt Tommy. I’d rather cut off my own limbs than hurt him I promise.”

@evansboyfriend @ohlookitsthearkhamknight @waywaychuck @obsessivebisexual4tevan @cliophilyra @bidisasterevankinard @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou

[luvergirl777]

For All the Multiverses | O’Hara

Pairing | Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Word Count | 7k, not too bad. 

Genre | Smut, kind of enemies to lovers if you squint hard. 

Summary | Miguel is an ass, through and through. There’s almost nothing that can convince you otherwise, the constant nagging, perfectionism, micromanaging, and passive aggressive comments fueling your rage. After a dumb remark, you’re done with him, done with all of it. 

Index | Submissive Miguel, soft dom reader I guess, biting (a bit of blood but nothing too crazy), bickering, dumb fighting, a bit of violence but not too bad (normal spider-people stuff.)

“It’s rude to stare, y’know?” You ask, voice absolutely dripping sarcasm with every single word. You can feel his eyes, your senses tingling throughout your body as his eyes bore into you from the top of his little platform. He’s been easily staring for 10 minutes now, glaring daggers at you as you try to work. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?” 

He simply lets out a tsk noise, clearly not entertaining your conversation any further. “You should get back to work,” Miguel grunts, and you can practically feel his eyes roll as he turns back around to his projections. You’re not sure why he resents you so much, you’re pretty literally only here to help catch anomalies, literally his sole purpose in life. 

“You should too, you’re supposed to be leading a capture in less than 3 minutes withhh, one sec, Gwen, Peter B, and maybe Jess if you need the backup. Spider-cat is also down to come with Jess if you’d like,” You inform him, once again getting on his nerves without even really trying. Truly, you practically do what Lyla’s designed to do. However, with anomalies popping up more frequently and unpredictability, she needs all the help she can get. 

“I know, I don’t need you to tell me.” Miguel grits out.

“Well, you should get a move on because the rest of the team has been waiting on you for 5 minutes now, but I'm sure you know th-“ 

“Ay mierda,” And before you are able to get another cheap shot in he’s towering over you at your desk, “No micro-managing my mission, got it y/l/n?” his tone is deadly serious, vaguely threatening. Still, you refuse to give in to his constant fear-mongering bullshit, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. If there’s one thing you’re going to do in your time at the spider society, it’s putting Miguel in his place even if it’s just a little. 

“Sir yes sir, Mr O’Hara sir,” You give him a stupid salute, purposely looking dumb to mock him. He leaves with an exaggerated sigh, mumbling something under his breath that you can’t quite catch. You probably don’t want to, you’re sure it’s a string of curses. With a giggle, you immediately turn on your surveillance and begin overseeing the mission. “Lyla?” She pops up in front of you, bubbly and bright as ever. 

“Yes?” She beams, walking around in her little artificial intelligence world. She’s the only other lively thing around here, and you’re grateful for her presence after dealing with Miguel all day. 

“Can I have this mission? Pretty pretty please?? With a cherry on top?” You begin to beg, pressing your hands together and shaking them towards her to see. 

“Well…I suppose Miguel never put in an official request on who monitors this mission. So I suppose I wouldn’t be going against any orders…” She trails off, thinking for a brief moment, “But if anyone asks, I was super busy!!” She exclaims, immediately running off to make herself busy so she has the excuse. It makes you giggle, turning back around to watch your projections spread around your desk. You hate that you share an office space with Miguel, but at least he’s in the air away from you. 

They’re getting their asses kicked, genuinely. You can tell that they don’t know the anomaly they’re going against, constantly getting tricked by the changing of shapes, colors, forms, and even states of matter. Dragging a hand along your face, you quickly ping Peter B’s watch with a message to help them. 

Don't tell O’Hara I’m here yet, but the anomaly glows under ultraviolet light. Think glowing like a scorpion !!! 

Finally, things begin to click as Peter uses his watch to shine the light around to detect it. With a small smile, you pat yourself on the back. Still, while it’s now easier to find it’s not any easier to catch. You almost itch for Miguel to call it, eyes switching between cameras just in case you miss it. 

“Call for backup.” Miguel groans, eyes narrowed more than before in his mask. 

“Sorry, what was that?” Your voice fills his ear and he immediately drops his head, hand coming to rub his forehead as he fights off many choice words. He sits like that for a second as he recomposes himself. 

“God, can't you hear?? I said call-“ 

“Already there.” You hang up, and a loud click right after you finish your last word. (AKA before Miguel can give you any more shit.) Truthfully? You have nothing against him. In fact, you think his combat and intelligence are admirable beyond compare. However, you refuse to be afraid like almost everyone else that comes to help. You don’t understand it, yeah he’s kinda scary because of his authority, but at the same time, he does the same thing as anyone else. Everyone is here to help, and the snarkiness and ego he has is beyond your grasp despite it all. You just so happen to have the pleasure to work right beside him. 

Miguel was avoidant from the get-go, constantly denying the fact that they needed any more help. He can do it on his own, he’s got everything under control, he doesn’t need a set of eyes looking at him, etc, etc, etc. Even when Lyla appeared and gave a very timid “Actually we really would benefit from the help-“ She was promptly hung up on. (She then flashed her message on all of the holograms and projections in the room out of spite.) But still, Miguel was relentless in his belief that he had everything under control. This continued for a long time, however, there was a brief moment where the two of you got along well. 

You’re not sure what really happened, how it even started. The two of you began going on missions together, catching a record number of anomalies for the month with ease. Along with this, you two fell into a routine in no time. He’d get coffee in the mornings, leaving yours on your desk as he was always in way earlier than you. You’d get lunch for the both of you, bringing Miguel his food as it’s rare he’d really leave for long, let alone to eat. It was nice, very nice. 

Small conversations in passing turned into hour-long debates about anything and everything, friendly debates. These ranged from which lunch was the best from the cafeteria, all the way to the legitimacy of how the multiverse works. You thought the Miguel Burger was the best (and most funny), he loves the empanadas. He thought the multiverse was do-or-die at all times, you believe there have to be SOME exceptions in a multiverse of infinite possibilities. Through the small banters and discussions, you had actually learned a lot more about each other than you ever expected. In times you couldn’t agree, you two settled on a truce and no hard feelings. You both genuinely respected the other's opinion because you had enough respect for one another in general. 

Besides from office encounters, you had even started “coincidentally” running into each other during night surveillance. He scared you at first as you snuck through the hall, a giant figure also popping out of his room. After the initial fright and a very over-exaggerated gasp from you, the two of you laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation for a solid five minutes. He had spooked you so bad you even pulled your mask on, struggling to peel it back off through your laughter.  “What are you doing, O’Hara, do you know what time it is?!” You whispered in between giggles, unable to hold them back. 

He responded with a giant smile on his face, the lack of sleep probably going to his head finally. “I should ask you the same thing!” Afterward, you two snuck into the cafeteria kitchen to make a snack. The two of you made food, humming songs and passing ingredients back and forth with very little verbal communication needed. You two even entertained the idea of sneaking one of the projectors back for a movie, but you both decided you needed some sort of rest before morning duty started. 

Another fond memory was his birthday one year. He never celebrates, never even thinks about allowing himself to. You initially bribed Lyla to tell you, and when she wouldn’t, you did some totally legal background stalking to find out. Walking into the office with a cake on his desk, obnoxious balloons, and streamers all over the office, and your frame hiding behind said desk ready to sing happy birthday, your plan was in full swing. Admittedly he was reluctant to even let you celebrate, clamping a palm over your mouth once you began singing. Slowly but surely he warmed up, made a birthday wish, and blew out his candles. 

“Happy birthday Captain!!!” You’re over the top and obnoxious, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him around in his chair. Still, he offers you a genuine smile as you continue your birthday antics. Getting his favorite lunch and dinner, hand-delivering them to his desk, the whole nine yards. 

It’s not until dinner that he told you why, “The last birthday I had, was with my daughter.” Miguel mumbled, avoiding your gaze. “I know, it’s silly but I just wanted to remember it with her.” 

Guilt instantly eats at your heart and brain, immediately feeling bad for everything. You hadn’t even considered the reason why he didn’t celebrate, “I’m really sorry I didn’t know-“ You’re quick to offer your support, reaching out and holding his forearm in your palm. 

“But this is really nice!” He interrupts your apology, flipping his arm over so he can also hold your arm near your elbow, “Really thoughtful and kind, I genuinely really appreciate you, y/n.” 

Don’t even get going on the one Father’s Day you had gotten him a small gift. It wasn’t intentional, you had been at the store to get Peter a cake for him, Mayday, and MJ. Something cute with #1 Dad!! With a silly hero design in the background that you know Peter and Mayday would like. However, while you were in the store Miguel popped up into your mind. With an uncertainty that could rival god, you bit the bullet and also got him a smaller cake with happy father’s Day written across the top. 

You had found Peter in the cafeteria, bothering Miguel with who knows what as he just tried to get his food and then leave. As soon as you gave the cake to Peter, Miguel leaves instantly, a painful reminder he didn’t need right now. Peter and Mayday thank you, and Peter jokingly smears a dollop of frosting across Mayday‘s nose. With a small smile, you excuse yourself to track down where Miguel went. “Captain?” Your voice is quiet and unsure as you walk into the office, trying to see if he’s up on the platform or not. 

You get no response before you’re swinging up there, unsure of where else he would’ve gone. Sure enough, he’s sitting, hunched over facing away from you. “I brought you something, you don’t have to accept it if you don’t want to I suppose.” You try to speak as softly as possible, minimizing the echo in the office. Placing it down in front of him, he picks his head up just the slightest bit to see what it is. Instantly, he lurches up and you think you’ve seriously done it now, stepped a bit too far over the boundary that you already crossed. 

Instead of being chewed out, he instantly pulls you to him, wrapping you in his arms. “Thank you.” He mumbles, clearly trying to avoid voice cracking. You let the silence comfort the two of you, too scared to talk in case it sends Miguel over the edge he was so desperately trying to come back from. It’s nice, your arms wrapping around his waist and holding him close. 

Everything seemed to be going positive and only up in your friendship, you two were happy and well-working co-workers. However, this promptly ended when you slipped up during a mission, made a dumb move for someone else, and got hurt pretty badly. 

You, Jess, and Miguel were fighting together to catch a doc-ock from about 100 years in the future (from Miguel’s world anyway.) Jess had slipped just as razor-sharp blades were flying toward her. What would’ve originally hit her stomach, was not going for her throat. Without a second thought, you had jumped in front of her to avoid the for-sure deadly strike. It caught your ribs, slicing deep to the bone. Jess sprung up, grabbing you and opening a portal without a second thought and leaving Miguel behind. “Fuck, fuck Jess, hurts bad.” You groan, hands flying to your wound in a feeble attempt to stop the blood from pouring out. It soaks everything it touches, your hand completely red and your forearm soon to be.

In a blur, you’re rushed to the medic bay and onto a bed. The entire time, you’re groaning, writhing in pain. “What were you thinking?!” His voice is unmistakable as he storms into the med bay, quickly finding his spot next to your bed as he accesses the damage you took. “Stupid, stupid move, y/n. Idiotic, even.” He’s mumbling more that you can’t quite catch, and you’re too out of it to even try and understand the broken Spanish. “Can't believe you two.” 

Jess cries next to you, holding your hand where it rests on the bed. “Jess would’ve died.” You grit as his hand presses against your wound to slow the bleeding, making you cry out. “Captain!” You scream, hands flying to grab his wrists as you continue to writhe. It’s bad, your hands instinctively clawing at his forearms to try and get him away even for a moment. Easily overpowering you, he doesn’t let up. 

“I know, I know I'm sorry, mi sol.” His words fall on deaf ears as you scream. The pain is unbearable as you go in and out of consciousness, doing your best to remain conscious of Jess’s emotional state. You’re completely out as you get stitched and cleaned up, your body is completely spent and your adrenaline begins to wear off.

The very first time you wake up, Miguel is next to you. His forehead rests on his palms, hunched over in the chair next to you. Your voice is too weak, so you simply reach out and take hold of his arm. “Menos mal que estás bien.” His voice is soft as he takes your hand in his, holding it up to his forehead. “You’re okay,” Miguel mumbles, pulling your hand down a bit to his cheek. You smile, flattening your hand to hold the side of his face in your palm.

“Sorry,” You speak, and he gives you a confused look at what you could be apologizing for. “About your arm, and fucking up the mission.” There are scratches all along his forearm, and you’re about 90% positive it had to be from you. 

“No, no. Don’t even worry about anything.” He speaks, shuffling slightly to stand up. Miguel places your hand gently back down to your stomach. “And what I said about that mission, that was just- I was-“ He can't even finish what he wants to tell you. 

“Please don’t leave me.” You mumble, realizing that he’s definitely about to run away. Miguel huffs heavily, his chest rising and falling. He has a sorry look on his face, and you know him well enough to know he’s not sticking around long. Leaning down, he wraps you in his arms, holding you close and protectively to his chest. It hurts, bad, but you’re not going to tell him as you soak it in. “O’Hara,” Tears cloud your vision. 

“I’m sorry, y/l/n.” And just like that, he’s disappearing. Recovery is a bitch, worse than the initial injury. You’re grateful for everyone visiting you in the med bay, but not once do you see Miguel even for a status update. 

Since then, he’s completely detached again. No longer leaving you coffee, ignores the lunch you bring him every day, not entertaining any of your conversations. You’re somehow completely back to the day you joined. 

Due to this incident, you naturally brush against each other, butting heads on almost everything now. This continued for a while, still remaining relevant here and there to this day. You can see Miguel shake his head as Jess and spider cat come in, they need all the help they can get, before he springs into action again. He’s scary, with fangs, claws, and running on all fours now. Maybe you’ve ticked him off a bit too much. you make a mental note to “STFU when O’Hara gets back” out of fear you’ve created this. (Not an uncommon occurrence.) 

With Jess and Spider Cat, they’re able to wrangle up the remaining anomalies and come back to HQ. The door slamming open startles you, and the mental note you made earlier is in full swing, sirens and all going off in your head. Your lips are sealed more than ever. You can feel his glances, before he quickly turns away, just to look back at you. He’s working himself up to chew your ass out, for sure. This is usually the look that he gives to Hobie when he’s being an idiot. The only thing you can do is turn your gaze down and continue searching through the multiverse for anything unusual. 

“Really? Really, you did the one thing I told you not to do?” Miguel carries on and you’re sure he’s pacing the platform as usual, “¿Por qué? ¿Por qué sigo dando órdenes?“ (Why? Why do I keep giving orders?) He continues to get himself going. 

You don’t know what to say to possibly make the situation better, so you continue your work. “Oh? And now you’re just not gonna talk to me, huh? I see how it is, ya veo cómo es.” (I see how it is.)

“I figured I was helping, O’Hara.” You spit, moving your screens aside to glare up at him. “You know?? Doing the one thing I’m here for? I don’t understand why you think me helping the team is somehow to spite you.” His eyes are beginning to turn red and you’re quick to flash your projections up once more to avoid the glare that is surely targeted at you. Your suit suddenly feels too right around the neck, strangling you. 

“Hmm, hmm.” Miguel nods, turning around on his platform and giving you the silent treatment from here on out. Eventually, he would break, you’re sure of it, have to ask you for something eventually. To your dismay, you’re the first one that has to break the silence in the suffocating room. 

“There's an anomaly on Earth 295-“ 

“Go get it. Since you want to micromanage anyways, you got it.” It’s not encouragement at all, the opposite really. With an exasperated sigh, you get up from your desk and begin to make your way out into the lobby. Rounding up a group of people, you set off to catch the anomaly. It’s easy, a routine capture before you’re dragging the man back through your portal. With another sigh, you shove open the doors to your shared office and plop down into your chair. No other words are exchanged for the rest of the day, the two of you doing your work while passing another in silence. 

You wish you could work alongside Lyla in her artificial intelligence database. Clocking out for the night, you’re preparing to open your portal and crash land somewhere in your city. Anything is better than being here. “I need you to stay tonight for overnight surveillance.” Miguel breaks the silence just as you’re about to press the open button, your arms immediately falling to your sides and your head was thrown back. 

“Fuck you, O’Hara.” You groan, leaving your office and heading up to the overnight dorms to begin your night surveillance. God, you hate him. You joined the society to make the universe better, all of the multiverses better, not to be picked on by some oversized man in a tight-ass hologram suit. Plopping down at your desk in the dorm, you curse O’Hara out in your head. Scanning through your brain, there’s literally nothing you can think of to make the situation better. He simply hates you because he can’t handle everything on his own, you’re sure he’s just projecting but it’s infuriating regardless. The whole night, every second of the surveillance shift, you become more and more irritated. 

It’s 7 am when you crawl out of your dorm, running on 5 minutes of accidental sleep and spite. You’re technically supposed to be at your desk at 7, but at this point who cares. If he says one thing, one single thing to you, “You know you’re 3 minutes late-“ And you’re ripping off your watch and hurling it at his head. Miguel, spider sense less, doesn’t feel it coming and gets absolutely clobbered in the side of the head. You hope it bleeds, truly, as your chest heaves. 

“Fuck, you, O’Hara,” You grit, turning around and beginning to make your way out of the stupid office, away from his stupid little platform, and his stupid little dramatic face. Like an idiot, he chases, “All I do is fucking help you, stick my neck out for these missions, bust my ass, and nothing. You take the credit and I get yelled at for helping.” You're beyond angry, fists clenched at your side- 

“Just put your watch back on estúpida, you’re gonna glitch-“ He watches as you do just that, never crumbling or falling as you turn to glare at him. Scary, that was scary. He’s never seen someone withstand their literal atoms glitching, let alone being so angry they’re able to move also. Still on you’re feet, Miguel ignores the smart part of his brain that tells him to move away from you. 

“All because pretty boy,” You’re stepping closer to him, and Miguel takes all the strength in his body to not cower away from you. Forcing himself to stand tall like always, he takes whatever you’re about to give him, finger digging into his chest, “Can’t take the fact that he can’t control everything. Pushes everyone away, would rather the multiverse weaken than admit he needs some fuckin help, and everyone just believes it. Holds their heads high with the assumption everything is fine, they’re doing their job, getting their pats on the back. It’s such a shame you’re so attractive O’Hara, because it’s ruined by that fucking personality of yours.” Maybe you’re being too mean, but if you don’t say it no one else ever will. At the commotion, a few heads begin to look over at the two of you. 

“Can we please talk, in private, where people aren’t staring at us-“ 

“I’m going home. I’m going through that stupid freaky spider machine, that has a stupid name by the way, and leaving the team,” You say, definitive as you tear yourself away from Miguel and began the trek towards Margo’s office (essentially.) 

“Can we please talk like adults, y/n?” Miguel still follows, this time grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you back harder than he really meant to. He’s strong, much stronger than you, so it’s no surprise that you almost fly backward into his chest. He catches you by the waist, only making your anger bubble more. Glaring up at him, you can see a flash of emotion rush across his face before it’s gone just as fast. “Please, y/n.” 

Miguel isn’t a beggar, never has been, in fact, you can’t even remember if you’ve ever heard him say please before now. “To the office?” You force a grin as the group of eyes on the two of you continues to grow. Miguel offers you a polite nod, placing your watch back on your wrist before allowing you to lead the way. With an annoyed grunt, you eventually make it back to your desk, plopping down in the chair. “If you go up to your platform to talk to me, I’m opening a portal and leaving. Before you even get a word in,” You warn him. 

Miguel walks over with an annoyed sigh, rubbing the wrinkle in between his brows out. “y/n please stay, we need all the help we can-“ His words are cut short as your lurch forward, roughly grabbing his face in your hand. His cheeks are squished together as your fingertips dig into his skin, spinning around. You easily knock him back into the chair you were previously sitting at. “¡Joder! ¡De acuerdo!” (Ah fuck! Okay Okay!)

“Now you need me? All of a sudden, now you need the help.” You hiss, caging him in as you step closer, fingertips digging in even more with each word. You’re basically leaning over him, one of his knees slipping between your legs without even realizing it. Miguel’s hands reach up, timidly wrapping around your wrist in an attempt to calm you down or at least loosen the grip you have on him. 

“Cálmate dulce chica, podemos hablar de esto.” (Calm down sweet girl, we can talk about this.) Miguel offers, a small whimper falling from his lips as he realizes how close you are to him, essentially hovering over his lap. “y/n please-“ It’s nothing short of sin, a loud whine falling past his lips as his hands fly to meet your waist. His big hands almost wrap around you entirely, if he squeezed his fingertips would probably touch together. 

“You’re getting off to this? Really Miguel?” Another groan falls from his lips, you never call him Miguel. Never, it’s always O’Hara or some stupid nickname you picked up from the kids because you thought they were funny. There’s a small smirk on your face, making Miguel’s eyes narrow with lust as it’s clear you’re very amused by his situation. His mind almost melts as you finally sit, your knees on either side of his hips. You fill his senses, judgment beginning to cloud as your smell fills his nose and voice his ears. “You are, huh?” You draw out, the slightest bit of humor behind your voice. 

“You’re just, ah fuck, so pretty when you’re yelling at me,” Miguel speaks, a bit muffled as you haven’t released him yet from your grip. Finally, you let go of his cheeks, leaving behind faint red dots where your fingertips once were. “So soft, warm,” He continues as his mind becomes fuzzier by the second, hands pawing at your suit material. He wants nothing more than for it to be gone right now and for a brief moment, he thinks about ripping through it. He can give you one like his, yeah, he thinks as he rationalizes. 

“You gonna be good? Let me see you?” You mumble and break his train of thought, hands trailing over his suit that is technically molecules that he’s learned to manipulate over the years. With a small nod, he removes the fabric where your hands trail, leaving open skin for you to touch. The rest of his suit remains intact, only his front opening for you. “Naughty naughty,” You tease at his lack of underwear or boxers, ghosting your fingers across his head to tease him even more. Without explanation, you climb off his lap and step away. 

“y/n? Fuck, what’s wrong-“ His worry ceases as you begin pulling your suit off, the skin-tight fabric being dropped on the desk space next to you. “Oh Dios, vas a ser mi muerte.” (Oh god, you’re going to be the death of me.) He knows you don’t understand Spanish fluently, only picking up bits and pieces of his expressions. In this case, you caught death and that’s about all you understood. 

“You know I don’t understand, Miguel.” You tease as you crawl back onto his lap only in a bra and panties, seated securely on his big thighs. Leaning forward, your hands find their place naturally in his hair. “Let’s talk like adults, hm?” You mock him from earlier, a sick smirk spread fully across your face. “Go ahead, tell me everything you wanted to earlier, or else I’m taking my watch off and going home~” You almost sing song, soaking in the hint of misery it gives him. 

“I just wanted to say- haaaa fuck,” You catch Miguel off guard as your lips find his jaw, hot kisses soon spreading down to his neck. You mark him thoroughly, you wanna leave a part of yourself with him. 

“C'mon, O’Hara, or I'm leaving.” You continue to warn. 

“I, we need you here. I know I’ve been, shit shit,” His train is thrown off as you press yourself closer to him, pinning his cock in between your stomachs as your hips search for friction, “Mean to you recently. It’s just because, ah ah, I liked you. But I couldn’t express this because of our circumstances. And when you got hurt, it scared me because I realized how much you actually meant to me. So instead of liking you I thought hating you would push you away and it would eventually dissipate. But you’re so stubborn it only made things worse because you refused to go to a different department at least.” 

“I see.” You barely give him a response as you suck dark hickeys into his chest, peering up at him to catch his expression. “Miguel, let me ride your fingers,” He groans, nodding his head as his palm slides closer to where you need him. 

One of his palms remains on your waist, the heat spreading from his hand to your body. It feels as if you’re on fire, blood molten lava as it flows throughout your body. As much as you’ve hated him recently, he’s still incredibly attractive. And to have him this pliant and finally following your instructions? An added bonus. Your breath hitches as he runs across your clit, running across the small bead as your hips reactively pick themselves up to give him better access. 

“Fuck, so pretty like this, finally listening to my instructions,” You fill the silence, hands falling to hold Miguel’s head in them. “You gonna let me kiss you, O’Hara? Or is that too intimate for you?” 

“I want nothing more, please do.” He groans as you immediately lean forward, lips clashing as you starve for a taste of him. He kisses you back with a matched fury, his palm siding up to hold your torso against him. He swallows your moans as he begins his ministrations, sinking his middle finger completely into you. The kiss is messy, the only thing grounding you as he inserts another finger, expertly finding what makes you tick. Tongues pressing against tongues, lips swollen, moans, and panting breaths mix together. 

“Close, O’Hara,” You warn, “If you stop, I’ll kill you,” A genuine threat as your grip falls to his neck, loosely choking him. It makes him whine, more focused on pleasing you more than ever now. Your hips begin meeting his hand, chasing a high you so desperately need now. You’re soaked, the sound bouncing off the office walls surely embarrassing beyond belief if you were thinking straight. Your free hand finds Miguel’s lips, thumb brushing along his lips and revealing his canines, giant fangs that stick out farther than his other teeth. “Coming,” You whine, losing your grip on him almost entirely as your face falls into the crook of his shoulder, riding out your high. 

“C'mon, cum for me. So pretty, y/n, shaking around my hand.” Miguel encourages you, thoroughly prolonging your orgasm as he targets the spot inside and your poor aching clit. He stops only when your hips drop, no longer able to withstand the abuse. “Fuck, so pretty y/n, all for me,” Miguel continues, pulling you close as your lips reconnect, this time rough. Your hands pull his hair harshly, head tilting back as he whines into your mouth. 

“Gonna ride your pretty cock, get myself off,” You mumble into his mouth, causing him to groan in response. Miguel’s more than happy to let you, puppy dog eyes and all as you pull yourself away from him. He’s big, and you’re sure you’re not completely stretched as much as you’d like but you’re in too deep now. Lining yourself up, it’s a rough start. Miguel’s hands fly to your waist, not pushing but simply squeezing as his head falls back. His face is squeezed hard, whines falling past soft lips before he can think to stop them. “So big, fuck fuck,” Whimpering, you sink slowly inch by inch as you will yourself to take him. 

“Shit y/n. fuck, haaa fuck fuck, tight,” Miguel babbles, unable to hold it back. Taking the last few inches, you lean forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, desperately needing something to hold onto. “So good, please move, please feels good, so deep,” Miguel feels like his mind is melting, completely pussy drunk as he shamelessly begs for you. You grind against him, trying to get a feel for how big he is before you hurt yourself. Rolling your hips slightly, you effortlessly pull moans from the both of you. 

Your bodies are completely pressed together as you pick your hips up and slam them down, body heat suffocating but so good at the same time. Your face finds itself in Miguel’s neck, moans and whines being muffled into his skin. Miguel holds onto you for dear life, almost bruising the skin underneath his fingers. Your pace is brutal, once again chasing your high with no other regard in mind. His hands begin to hurt, definitely bruising the skin underneath. 

“O’Hara.” Your tone is pissed off as you rip his hands away, webbing them to the armrests on either side of you. He could easily rip them, you’re sure, but he won’t, another thing you’re sure of. “Stupid boy, getting rode and doesn’t know what to do with himself,” You taunt, almost feeling his cock jump. It feels too good, he feels too good as he instinctively curls in on himself. “C’mon, don’t get shy on me.” You taunt, wedging your feet on the inside of his thighs and spreading them. 

“Your stupid boy,” He babbles back, picking his head up more fully to watch how you use him, relentlessly fucking him. “So good, so pretty.” He can see the tip of his cock in your stomach, bordering crazy he’s sure. His fists ball at his sides, doing his best to be good. “Gonna cum soon, you feel too good.” 

“Hmm, I’m not stopping until I cum.” You warn him graciously. You’re about 95% sure it goes in one ear and out the other, too distracted to fully register your words. “Do what you want, Mig, just remember that.” Once again, he definitely doesn’t comprehend as he eagerly nods at the approval. 

As his high approaches, his hips begin grinding up into you, chasing his own release. You allow it, having already warned him more times than you should’ve. “Coming, nghhh ahh fuck, fuck,” And he does, hips driving forward as he cums as deep as possible. You entertain it, sinking down fully and grinding against him as you coax him through it. You can feel his thighs shake underneath you as his hips rest back down on the chair, head thrown back as his chest heaves. 

“Oh, Mig, sweet boy.” You tease, voice flowing through his ears like honey. “I haven’t cum yet.” Finally, you’re getting through to him as you pick your hips back up, dropping down with a wet smack. 

“y/n, wait! Shit, fuck, nhghhhh ah ah,” Miguel is so overstimulated, thighs shaking slightly as his hips buck. You’re once again chasing your high, using him completely as your toy now. “Please I can’t-“ Tears prick his eyes as his head picks up to meet yours, muscles flexed as he pulls against his restraints. Your grip meets his throat, stopping his whining momentarily. 

“I warned you, be good for me and sit still,” You mumble, your free hand reaching for his mouth once again. ”Been so mean to me, so mean Miguel, need to use you. Need to punish you.” You bite into his shoulder, muffling yourself. His whines and moans are nonstop, the overstimulation driving him crazy. Eventually, you pull your head back, finding another sensation to play with. Wedging your fingers into his mouth, Miguel thinks his mind is going to melt. Your fingers run across his fangs, testing the sharpness on the pads of your index and middle. Much to your surprise, (not really), they easily prick the skin and cause blood. Miguel’s tongue is quick to soothe over the two pricks, earning him a loud moan as you run your fingers across his tongue. “My dumb boy, all pussy drunk, overstimulated, just so stupid, hmm?” 

“Yes, yes,” Is all he can manage with your two fingers in his mouth, beginning to fuck them against his tongue in speed with your own hips. It’s obscene, but the sight makes you clench tightly around his cock, earning you even louder whines. There’s saliva dripping now, so messy as he allows you to do as you please. 

“Fuck, gonna cum. Gonna cum for you, Miguel.” Your thighs are growing tired, Miguel doing his best to pick up the slack and thrust up into you. “Cumming~” It’s barely a warning as your head falls forward, thighs shaking and clamping down around Miguel’s hips. He does his best to prolong it, thrusting up with the limited movement you allow him, soon spilling inside you once more as you’re just so tight. 

As you come to, your hips pick themselves up and down a couple more times, fucking his cum into you. “No more, please, no mas, no mas, por favor mami,” (No more, no more, please mami.) Miguel cries, tears slipping as the overstimulation is too much. Your hips still with him still inside, chests heaving as the both of you fight to catch your breaths. Your hands are quick to meet his cheeks, wiping away the stray tears that fall. Leaning forward to kiss the tear stains, Miguel whines as you slide along him. 

“Look at you, absolutely covered in cum, spit, sweat,” You smile, slowly picking your hips up and climbing off his lap. Everything aches, but you’re so satisfied as you wobble over to your suit. Picking it up, you opt for carrying it rather than fighting it over your sticky skin. Miguel looks like the epitome of sex as he remains in the chair, still struggling to recover. “Miguel, you okay?” Your voice is much gentler now, walking over and placing a kiss on his forehead. He nods as you rip through your webs for him, freeing him of his restraints. You offer a soft peck which he takes gratefully, your fingers coming to rub his scalp where you had been tugging at his hair. 

“Miguel?” Carefully climbing into his lap again, you drop your suit over the armrest. “My boy, are you alright?” You pull him close to you, holding his head against your chest as you massage his scalp. You hold him until he comes down fully, placing soft kisses on his forehead and tear-stained cheeks. 

“Yes, mi corazón. Are you okay? Feeling okay?” His hands meet your waist where he had been previously squeezing, rubbing the soon-to-be bruised skin. 

“More than okay.” With one final reassurance peck to his lips, you stand back up fully and grab your suit. You're exhausted, both from night duty and today's festivities, and it’s clear there is no way you’re going to be able to work today. “I’m gonna go home and get some sleep, I had the night shift last night.” The reminder pains Miguel that he really asked you to do that out of spite. “You’re more than welcome to follow, or swing by later.” You offer, tapping on your watch until you carefully open a portal inside your apartment. 

Glancing back once more, Miguel looks cute as he watches you go, suit fully formed once again. You wonder how that works with all the liquid on his skin, but you opt to ask another time. 

“I’ll stop by later,” He offers, not missing the way your face falls slightly. He quickly climbs to his feet, “I just have a couple of things to do here, otherwise I would, I really would trust me.” Miguel explains, big frame easily engulfing you into a hug. His cheer-up protocol works, putting a small smile on your face as you look up at him. 

“I’ll see you later, spidey,” You beam, leaning forward onto your tip-toes to kiss him. He meets you halfway, indulging you. With one final glance back, you step through the portal, waving bye as it closes. 

“I’ll be there!” He promises just as it closes, leaving you two technically universes apart from one another. 

~~~

Hours later, the sound of his portal is unmistakable in your small one-bedroom apartment as it fills the silence and shakes the walls. Peeking your head out of the hall into your living room, his giant frame looks a bit silly in the small area. Nevertheless, the giant smile that spreads across your face is priceless. “You actually came!” You speak, spooking him slightly as you step out from behind the hall wall. 

“What? Of course.” He scoffs, welcoming you with open arms when you approach him. He must’ve gone home and cleaned up, hair seemingly damp and a glow that only a warm shower could give radiating from him. “I wouldn’t miss this for all the multiverses.” 

[tgmsunmontue]

Life is too short to waste time matching socks... (2/5)

Hangster and Bob/Javy/Nat - set post mission with the Dagger Squad having been made a permanent squad.

PART ONE

                “Are our friends hooking up?” Bradley asks, frowning at the message on his phone.

                “Who? Javy and Phoenix?”

                Interesting. He had meant Natasha and Bob, but it makes sense that maybe Hangman just jumps to assuming his best friend is the one dating Natasha. They’re at the restaurant where Natasha had insisted on meeting, something she had wanted to tell them apparently and now she’s not going to get here until much later, if at all.

                “No. Well, yes, But I mean Nat, Bob and Coyote… the three of them.”

                “Huh. You know, you may be onto something. They’ve been looking incredibly suspicious every time I walk into the room, springing apart like they’ve been doing or saying something they don’t want me to overhear.”

                “Yeah, same. Think we need to let them know we’re okay with the three of them being together?”

                “Well, maybe they’re still trying to figure things out?”

                “Huh. True. Not yet ready to tell us maybe?”

                “Or they’re just having fun and it’s not serious?”

                “Not serious? Are we talking about the same people?”

                “Yeah, you’ve got a point. Maybe they don’t think we’d understand?”

                Bradley frowns, because he hopes not. Not that he’s ever been in a polyamorous relationship, if that’s what that three of them are currently figuring out. He gets not wanting other people to meddle or provide a running commentary, but he is a little hurt that she hasn’t mentioned anything to him. He glances at the messages on his phone again.

                Received forty minutes ago.

>>Sorry, running late! Be there soon. Go ahead and order without me.

                Received twenty minutes ago.

>>Okay – just got a call. Let me see if I can deal with these two without going over there in person.

                Received five minutes ago.

>>Sorry but I’ve got to leave you there. Javy and I need to talk with Bob about some stuff. Hopefully get it sorted and maybe still get there for dessert.

                He slides it across to Hangman, offering him to read it, because if they’re going to try and figure this out they both need all of the information at hand.

                “That is… That has to be the three of them having a serious conversation right? I know Javy hooked up with Phoenix years ago.”

                “Really? Because she hooked up with Bob not that long ago.”

                “Go Phoenix… I wonder if Javy knows that.”

                “Surely right? If the three of them are having a serious conversation? Like, serious enough to not be able to leave it to another time. Leaving us unsupervised. Pretty risky move otherwise…” Bradley says, lips twitching with amusement, because their arguing is nowhere near as antagonistic as it used to be. Now it’s got a far more friendly edge, playful almost and if he didn’t know better he’d say it was sometimes flirty. But that’s just wishful thinking.

                He sends a quick message saying that they’re ordering dessert and that he hopes she can sort whatever it is out with Coyote and Bob, and he’s insanely curious, but knows better to ask through a text, because she’ll either outright lie or deflect. He needs to ask her in person where he can watch her micro expressions.

                They both can’t decide between the same two desserts before sheepishly realizing that they can share and place their order, the topic of conversation now firmly circling what they think Coyote, Nat and Bob are up to. He convinces Hangman to send a couple of messages to Coyote to do some delicate fishing for information and realizes that they might need to meet up again to discuss their theories. He doesn’t say anything though, doesn’t want to risk the potential rejection even if he’s not got any intention other than friendship. Mostly.

                They finish up their desserts, eating off each other’s plates easily enough and he hates how much it feels like a date, how much he wants it to be a date. His phone vibrates with another message from Natasha, saying she’s definitely not going to make it and well, it’s far too late for her to join them anyway. The split the bill and walk towards where they’ve both left their cars.

                “Well Rooster, I enjoyed this. We should do it again some time.”

                “How about we do lunch in a week or so? Compare notes? See if we can figure them out?”

                Something in Hangman’s expression changes but is gone before he can figure it out.

                “Sounds good. Have a good night.”

…            …            …

                Javy looks at his phone, a little confused at the stream of messages but able to pick out the general gist of what Jake is trying to say.

                “Okay, that was a bust. Well, they didn’t kill each other, but Jake seems to think Rooster is very uninterested in dating him. Are you sure he likes him? He suggested a date and Rooster turned it into work talk apparently… Told you a dinner date was going to be too subtle for our idiots.”

                “You said no such thing. Anyway, locking them in a room, either a pretend one,” Natasha says, looking at Bob, “or a real one, isn’t going to work either. They need to fucking talk.”

                “They need to uh, fuck, and then talk,” Bob states and Javy concedes that he may have a point. They’re both men of action rather than conversation, although he really thinks they need to use their words. Constructively.

                “We can’t force them to talk,” Javy says, rubbing at his face, because they also can’t make them fuck either. He stretches out his neck, the tension from having to deal with Jake being ridiculous starting to get to him. He barely notices as Bob moves behind him and starts massaging his shoulders, just lets his body slump a little.

                “I’m sorry, but I totally forced them to just spend three hours together, talking and enjoying a meal together. And if you’re giving out massages I want one please.”

                “Sure,” Bob agrees and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Bob say no to her.

                “Yeah, you did really well with the dinner thing, but…”

                Then there’s a key in his door, it’s opening and Jake is standing there, his face going from sad to surprised and he wonders what sort of picture they make, Phoenix sitting beside him but with Bob behind him massaging his shoulders. God, it’s not like anyone is naked. Jake has seen him in far more embarrassing and compromising situations than talking with two friends, but judging from the look on his face he clearly thinks he’s snapped Javy doing something illicit and he raises an eyebrow.

                “What?”

                “Uh… Javy! Hi. Phoenix. Bob. Hmm. I should have known you’d all be here. Sorry. I’ll leave you to it. Ignore me. I was never here.”

                “What the hell was that about?”

                “I have no idea…”

PART THREE