Chapter Text
It wasn’t until Hughie described what the boys referred to as “the Popclaw Incident” that Annie really understood the trust he’d placed in her. He’d seen a man crushed to death beneath a hero high on her own power and then turned around and told her that he wasn’t afraid of her, that he wanted to see her at her strongest. Had he thought about it when they first fucked? Was it Hughie who’d decided he’d be on top? Annie couldn’t remember.
Of course she’d considered that he might be afraid of her, but when he’d talked about the temporary V with that gleam in his eyes, that passing insecurity congealed into something tangible. It was easy to call him jealous, that he’d wanted to be the man, to protect her, but the far more terrifying option was that he was just trying to protect himself. When she’d curled up against him on that hotel bed and stroked his hair, had he pictured her popping his skull between her fingers? Annie couldn’t imagine being able to love somebody like that. That was the kind of love people had for Homelander, the kind that came with a soft smile and a tight fist.
He’d apologized to her for taking the V, and she’d forgiven him easily, because he was still the same Hughie that had wanted to get his ass kicked at bowling and that had learned her favorite songs and who smiled against her lips whenever they kissed. He told her that he’d been selfish, and insecure, and all the things that every man she’d known hadn’t been man enough, or, actually, too much of a man to admit. She’d believed that part. But after what she’d told him about her previous relationships, he might never admit anything to do with feeling afraid of her powers. And if he couldn’t tell it to her, who could he tell it to? Butcher would tell him to drop her supe ass, and maybe shove a bomb up it on the way out. If she had any doubt about his sense of security, she would have to ask him herself.
She let the idea simmer for a while before it actually came out of her mouth. They were watching a movie and making out sporadically on the couch, and Hughie seemed perfectly happy to be underneath her until the moment she slid her hand to the fly of his jeans and he immediately pushed her backwards and climbed on top. Their usual positions. Her brow furrowed and Hughie paused.
“What?” he asked.
“Do you ever— Do you remember what happened with Popclaw?”
“Well, yeah. Hard to forget. Slightly horrifying and mentally scarring, y’know.” She didn’t like how casually Hughie could say that now. “To be honest, Annie, I’d prefer not to talk about it while I’m actively trying to have sex.”
“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” she asked, teasing.
“Some sort of sex-like activity, for sure.”
“You don’t worry about it being… dangerous?” her voice went high at the end of the sentence.
“Like, do I worry I might actually drown in pussy?” he said, face deathly straight.
“C’mon, Hughie. I’m serious.”
“No, I don’t worry about it.” he said, expression morphing from faux to real sincerity.
“What if I’m worried about it? We’ve both seen some shit happen. Popclaw, the people at Herogasm, anyone who’s ever fucked with a supe—”
“You sound like Butcher right now.” he interrupted, brow furrowing further.
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t be together, I just want you to know that you can tell me if you’re afraid of me hurting you!” She hadn’t intended to raise her voice. She hated yelling at people, especially Hughie, but it always snapped out in the same sharp intonation as her mothers backstage lectures. That little “I know best” ring to it that made her want to strangle herself before she let out another word.
“Well, I’m telling you that I’m not afraid, so it’s not a problem!” he said, even louder, and somehow they’d fallen into an argument.
“Then why,” she said, trying to speak softly. “Are you on top of me?”
“What?”
“You’re sitting on top of me right now!” The yelling was back, god damn it. “Every single time we fuck, you get on top! You never want me to be holding you in place or pinning you down or whatever, and that’s fine, I get it, that probably freaks you out after some of the shit you’ve seen, but I want you to be able to tell me about that. Don’t pull some weird little martyr shit in bed because you think I can’t hear it. Otherwise, I’m gonna freak out thinking about you having a panic attack if I try and sit on your face!”
Hughie looked at her, a bit stunned.
“You can sit on my face if you want.” he said, almost comically earnest.
“That’s not my point.”
“I know, but I said I’m not afraid of you and I’m not lying. I wouldn’t lie about that. If you need to sit on my face or something to prove it to yourself, then I’m ready and willing. Eager, even.”
“But you don’t want me to.”
“You’ve never asked me to! I don’t have some thing about being on top of you, I’ve just done it that way since I was like sixteen!” Hughie said, becoming visibly embarrassed as the words left his mouth but barreling on anyway. “There’s no psychology there, I’m just fucking boring! So, y’know, whatever you want, I’m down to try.”
“You’re not boring.” She could tell she’d accidentally hit an insecurity.
“Then, whatever word describes a guy who won’t ask his girlfriend to sit on his face. But, uh, one that wouldn’t necessarily mind asking, if the situation arose.” The embarrassment was starting to look good on him.
“Is this you asking?” she asked, running a finger down his leg. He was still in his stupid jeans, but she suddenly wasn’t feeling like she’d ruined the evening anymore.
“Well, y’know. I’m saying if you wanted to, I’d—”
“Hughie.”
“Yes. I’m asking.”
“Asking…?” She looked at him expectantly and he groaned, burying his face into her shoulder.
“Asking you to sit on my face. Please. That would be great.” he said, somewhat muffled.
“Okay.” She stroked his hair and tried not to think about the head crushing. There really was something wrong with her. “Promise you’ll tell me if I hurt you. Even if you’re just uncomfortable. Right away.”
“I promise. Where do you want me?” Hughie was perking up again, like a dog that’d been promised a treat.
“Bed, I don’t wanna have to fold you up on the couch.” she said, eyeing Hughie’s long legs. He straightened up and helped her to her feet. There was an odd sort of giddiness about him as they walked to the bedroom.
“You’re really excited about this, huh?” She regretted saying it after he hunched into his embarrassment again, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I can’t say I haven’t thought about it. I mean, I’ve noticed you’re strong, of course. So, I think naturally most people would think about you possibly holding them down and sitting on their face. Or whatever, people are probably into, things with uh-.” There was a strange and amusing energy vibrating off of Hughie. “But, y’know, I don’t wanna seem like I’m just into you because you’re a hero or whatever, I could seriously have the most tedious mormon missionary sex with you forever, or even nothing at all really, and be—”
“You realize you’re trying to talk me out of fucking you right now, right?” Annie interrupted. “Take your damn clothes off and get on your back.”
“Right away, sir.” Hughie, relieved from his ramblings, did a dumb little salute and proceeded to follow her instructions. Annie took a moment to note his choice of words and then followed suit.
There was no hurry to get to the face-sitting, so Annie took her time kissing at her favorite part of his neck and gently playing with his cock. He wasn’t quite hard yet, but he didn’t need to be, and the way he was starting to breathe told her everything she needed to know. She really did like being on top of him.
Hughie’s hands slid up her thighs, thumbs rubbing back and forth over her hipbones, and finally landing at her waist to pull her towards him. Annie could feel him restraining himself from grinding against her leg as they kissed, though she really wouldn’t have minded. She liked it when he lost a bit of control. She curled her fingers in his hair and guided his mouth down to one of her nipples. He tongued it until it was hard enough to give it that soft little bite that made her go crazy. She flinched and tugged him closer in encouragement. He thumbed roughly at the other nipple with the pad of his thumb until it was ready for the same treatment, and Annie shuddered at the feeling of cold air on her reddened and spit-soaked skin. He was leaning into it, upright against her chest. As pleasant as it felt to have him up there with her, it just wouldn’t do. Annie basked in the sensation for a minute longer before pulling away.
“Down,” she said simply, pushing him back into place by the shoulders more roughly than she usually dared. Hughie looked positively thrilled. She wrapped her hands lightly around his wrists and brought them to either side of his head, just to see his reaction. He watched her movements like she was explaining something incredibly important.
“Tell me immediately if you want me to get off you,” she said.
“Uh-huh. Yeah.”
“Even if you need to sneeze or something, okay, Hughie?”
“I promise. I’m fine, Annie.”
There was nothing else to do but to do it. Annie crawled over him, placed her arms on either side of his head, and lowered herself down over his face. It took a second of shuffling, and then Hughie’s mouth was lined up with her pussy and he was licking over it boldly, tilting his chin up to catch her clit.
Annie closed her eyes and rocked forward, taking care not to put too much weight on him. She’d thought it wouldn’t feel very different from the times he’d gone down on her from above, but she felt an almost shameful rush of power at being able to grind down on his tongue, press herself into his mouth.
“You can, um, you don’t need to hold yourself up so much.” Hughie panted, speaking halfway against her skin. “You’re not that heavy, I can take it.”
“I’m strong, remember? I can hold myself up.”
“See, I kinda want you to be holding me down.” Hughie licked his lips. His chin was wet already. “I’m serious, Annie, put some weight into it. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
Annie put aside all thoughts of potential bodily destruction and sat further down, relaxing her kneeling legs a little and practically shoving his face into her. Hughie moaned.
“You like that?” she asked. Hughie wrapped his hands around her ass to push her even closer and got back to work.
He was right, he could take it, and the new angle let him lick properly inside her, causing a rush of liquid to spill out onto his face. Annie groaned and fisted her fingers in his hair, tugging him against her.
“Fuck, you’re good at this.” She stroked his forehead and he looked up at her with glazed eyes. It made for a perfect vision.
“You’re so pretty, Hughie.” She was playing dirty there, she knew what fucked with his head. “You look so good like this, I hope you know you’re gonna be fucking living here.”
Hughie moaned his agreement and she ground harder against his tongue.
“You’re so good to me, let me fuck your mouth, sit on your pretty face. Use you to— Fuck—” She bucked against his face when he started sucking aggressively as her clit. He raised a hand to finger her from behind but she grabbed his wrists again and pinned them.
“No touching, Hughie. I’m gonna use your fucking mouth to get off and you’re gonna love it, understand?”
Hughie produced an entirely new kind of whimper. Oh, he was so fucked.
Annie rode him like she was proving a point, careful not to crush his wrists under her clenching fingers. She half hoped they left bruises, though, two little rings to hold him throughout the day. She imagined him rolling up his sleeves in front of the boys and everyone knowing she owned him, that he was always cradled safely in her deadly grip. It was incredible, the feeling of his fragile body taking the abuse, basking in it even, as he looked up at her with complete trust in those shiny eyes.
“That’s it, Hughie. This is what you needed, huh? You need me to ride your face? So good, baby, I’m gonna use you every fucking day, keep you nice and safe between my legs and use your face to cum on.”
She felt Hughie twitch under her, and suddenly became aware of the rest of his body, lying bare and untouched on the bed. She could picture the curve of his stomach flexing and the way his cock drooled onto it whenever she teased him. Right now, it was all out of sight and out of importance. Poor Hughie and his poor neglected cock. She gripped harder at his wrists.
Hughie’s arms struggled for a second in surprise, but he was unable to move them an inch. Annie was no longer above finding that hot. Still, she released him just in case when she realized she was getting close, the heat she usually associated with the glow in her eyes traveling down her abdomen. Hughie used his free hands to grip her thighs and began licking rhythmically at her swollen clit. Annie moaned, bucking into his mouth desperately and double checking that her legs were plenty far away from the sides of his head before letting the electricity spread out through her fingertips, out of her throat in a prolonged gasp, out of her pussy in a gush of liquid onto Hughie’s warm face, and along the hung molecules in the air until it flickered every light in the apartment. Her legs trembled with the orgasm but Hughie remained unharmed, save for a twitch from what was probably a mild static shock.
Hughie continued happily licking her through it until she finally crawled off him and collapsed ungracefully onto his chest. She could feel him panting, still.
“That was good?” she asked, short of breath herself.
“Really good.” he said, giving her a dazed sort of grin. “That was awesome.”
She could taste herself in his mouth when they kissed. She could feel how tired his jaw was, so she took pity on him and withdrew to wrap a hand around his cock. There was a wet spot on his stomach, just as she’d pictured. Hughie moaned, jaw slack and chest heaving.
“Gimme a second to get my energy back,” he said, wiping his chin and sitting up. Annie took her hand off him. She decided she liked him like this, all wiped out without even having cum.
“You’re good, I can take care of you, too.” She wiped away some of the slick he’d missed on his neck with her palm.
“You’ve have been taking care of me. That whole thing was very much taking care of me.”
Annie smiled.
“I know. Can I try something?”
“Yeah, what?” Hughie had that shiny look in his eyes again, sore jaw notwithstanding.
“Stand up.” She let it sound a little bit like an order. Hughie definitely stood like it was. She watched the way his cock bounced as he moved. It was oddly cute.
Annie stood beside him, almost surprised to remember how much taller he was then her. Still, it created no difficulties when she reached down, grabbed him by the backs of his thighs, and pinned him effortlessly against the bedroom wall.
“Oh.” Hughie said, breathless again.
“You want me to take care of you, right?” Annie asked. She shifted so she could hold his weight with only her left hand. He was nothing compared to the cars she used to lift every morning under her mother’s strict regimen, and the thought made her feel oddly light as well. Hughie, for his part, seemed incredibly aroused.
“Again, Annie, I don’t wanna be totally fetishizing the whole superhero thing—”
“Shut up. Hughie. Do you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She spat on her palm and gave him a slow stroke, probably still uncomfortably dry.
Hughie’s legs kicked against air.
She spat again and stroked him properly, his hips twitching uselessly.
“You like that?” she asked, pressing his back into the wall. “You need me to hold you in place so I can jerk you off? It’s what you deserve. You already got hard letting me ruin your pretty face.”
“Please, Annie.”
“Shh, I’m taking care of you. You look so good like this, in the palm of my hand.” She squeezed his ass with said hand and he thrust forwards in the clumsy way he did when he was getting close.
“I’m gonna let you cum now, Hughie. That’s what you need. Come on.” She tightened her grip, his own pre-cum slicking the way. “Let go. You’re doing so good.”
Hughie came with a whimper that cut off into a breath. When he’d finished, Annie licked his cum off of her hand tidily, eyes on his flushed face. He’d gone limp in her arms, though it hardly made a difference. She lifted him off the wall and carried him to the bed, still one handed, just to show off a little. He stared at the ceiling for a minute while she lay down beside him.
“That was so hot.” Hughie said, sounding like he’d made some kind of scientific breakthrough. Annie snorted.
“Shut up, it was,” he said, slapping limply at her arm.
“Yeah, it was. And you were right.”
“About what?”
“I wasn’t worried about hurting you in the moment when I actually could’ve. I was making sure I wasn’t, of course, but that’s not because I thought I could. It was because I knew I couldn’t.” She smiled and shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Whatever.”
“No, I get it. I’m glad.” Hughie rubbed at his wrists, but they seemed undamaged. God, she hoped they bruised. Just a little bit. Just barely.
They lay in silence for a while.
“You should tell Butcher you used your powers on me,” Hughie said, at last. “That would make him lose his fucking mind.”
Annie laughed again.
“So, I take it you like the powers then?”
Hughie rolled over to get a better look at her.
“I like you, Annie, all of you. A part of you is that you’re strong as shit. And another part of you is that I know you’re never gonna hurt me. And frankly, it’s all ridiculously hot.”
“Well, it’s good that you feel that way.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, now that I know what you look like under me, there’s no going back.”
Hughie grinned at her.
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.”