#ashley chew

[yashley]

The Mighty Nein Reunion: Echoes of the Solstice 

[danwhobrowses]

So there was a Callowmoore question on 4SD which has got people talking and since nobody will ask me about it I'm gonna get it out of my brain anyway.

For someone on 4SD as frequently as Taliesin, Callowmoore questions are rare and I think that partly comes from us fans not wanting to try and steer him but also because his answers tend to be complicated. He's quite plain with other stuff, but a lot also gets offered into interpretation when it comes to Ashton and Fearne.

And granted, we Callowmoores would love for him to pull a Liam and just up and say Ashton has feelings for her, but I think we all know that's not Tal's way; aside from the nuggets of wisdom, killer one-liners and unique homebrews, we tend to love Tal's characters for their actions and expressions, some of which subtle and rewarding to those paying attention. For this reason I have had to mull over this one minute answer for most of my day and figure out what I think he means by it, like blue curtains in a book.

To note though, 'I think' is the operative term, but I also don't believe that Tal has left Callowmoore better or worse by his response.

One of the interesting things I want to point out is that my interpretations are observing the divide between Taliesin's words and his roleplaying; it is not to say that Tal is being dishonest in his answers, but I also see it as the answers are what Ashton thinks and his roleplay is how they feel.

So no, Ashton isn't 'precious' about Fearne wandering off when sleeping beside each other, if she said no or came back safely it wouldn't have bothered them, and it's fair for Ashton to have preferred Fearne to have woke them up. And yet that doesn't deny the reaction Ashton had waking up to find her gone and fearing that she's in danger, and not there to help her; the panic, the anger, the impatience are all clear and instinctive reactions Ashton is having that imply that her being with them is important. They're not precious about Fearne waking up and leaving the bed before they wake, and yet they'll still smile upon waking and finding that she's still there.

The 'Adventurers with Benefits' is one of two comments I can see being used maliciously against shippers, but it's worth reminding that on the last Callowmoore question Tal was asked, he mentioned that Ashton doesn't believe that someone would love them. Ashton feels unlovable, and yet they still ask for intimacy with Fearne, leaning further into their connection but also not pressuring her into commitment. It's also worth pointing out that this is still a slow burn, even Jester questioned whether her feelings for Fjord were legitimate or a romanticized fantasy at one point, and Ashton is not privy to Fearne's feelings for them. Ashton frames it as Adventurers with Benefits because they don't allow themselves to entertain the idea of Fearne reciprocating feelings for them, and yet their impulse to kiss her before absorbing the shard, to frequently engage in physical contact at a growing rate, to playfully steal and share each other's clothing, the desire to defend her from harm or anyone that might have ulterior motives, and to willingly do anything and everything just for her to smile in their direction again, that paints more of a picture than just benefits.

Which finally gets us to Ashton's theory of love. Tal mentions that Ashton believes that love is 'wanting to trust somebody, but not trusting them'. Immediately: No, haters, I don't think this means Ashton doesn't trust Fearne, nor do I think it means that Ashton trusts Fearne so they don't love her. Ashton trusts all the Hells (well, maybe not Braius since they just met), but Fearne is special to them in a different way, they've already platonically said that they loved her when they first were using their titan forms. In addition, this could be an elaboration of the last time Tal brought up Ashton's opinion of Love on the post-shard Callowmoore question: 'love is ignorance and adorableness'. This is another thing that can develop, elaborate and/or change over time, but at the current moment Ashton's interpretation of love can come from environment; Imogen wants to trust Laudna but can't wholly trust her given Delilah, but even Ashton can see that they love each other. Tal also mentioned that Ashton is not very experienced in relationships - which kinda plays into my belief that Ashton and Fearne, while have had relationships, haven't had deep romantic feelings or proper intimacy before, which makes them discovering it with each other more special - so their understanding of love can only exist on what they assume it's like.

And yet what if you reworded the phrase in the same spirit? 'Love is trusting someone wholeheartedly even with nothing to reassure it', there have been many a time something looked to go south and faith was put in another anyway; the shard may be a bad example because it did go wrong but even though the red flags were there Ashton upon completing the process said 'thank you for trusting me', when Fearne took the shard Ashton was a bag full of panic their experience meant they couldn't trust that the shard wouldn't be just as bad for Fearne, and yet they still wanted to trust that Fearne would succeed. Ashton couldn't trust that whenever Fearne was wild shaped, cornered by Otohan, or taken away by Ira on Ruidus that she'd come back safe, and yet still wanted to trust that she would, Ashton couldn't confirm that Fearne wasn't a Doppelganger in Nanna Mori's trust trial - even when FCG and Imogen suspected it was her - and yet they still wanted to trust that it was her. Ashton's view on love may not be entirely right but it's not entirely wrong either, what is blind faith if not ignorant and adorable? Even with their interpretation, Ashton has put plenty of faith in Fearne even when the risk was high.

In conclusion, Ashton's behaviour towards Fearne do often imply a complexity rather than a discrepancy to Tal's 4SD statements, that maybe Ashton's emotions and subconscious are not in sync with their self-doubt driven thoughts, perhaps it is the way Ashton tempers their feelings to try and not get hurt by them or cause Fearne to get hurt by them again. Ashton's apology to her post-shard made a point of noting how she means a lot to them, and how hurting her was one of the worst things they have done, and as they work towards self-improvement and self-discovery, there will likely be a point where self-realisation comes into play too, and they can understand why what they're thinking differs to how they're feeling.

Again, this is all interpretation, speculation and observation, one that like the core statements doesn't add or subtract but fills in some gaps either way. Ashton's feelings are a complicated matter, which is likely why Tal entices and creates such speculation with a complicated answer. Right now Ashton clearly does care for Fearne and share a special relationship that's regrowing after suffering tension, loss and fear, blooming back into trust, joy and comfort, but save 5 Disney Greek Muses backing him up in a Gospel song they're not just gonna out and say they're in love

And Yet...

[remcocoa]

But what is the other one, white wolf?

The Sword of Destiny, Andrzej Sapkowski | 2021 Tour de France, Stage 17 | 2022 Tour de France, Stage 17 | 2023 Tour de France, Stage 15

All photos © Jered & Ashley Gruber

[b-movie-scream-king]

She’s so cutie pie I want to put her under my pillow

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

….this isn’t a prompt this is just canon—

[sammyloomis]

so much is coming back to me now that im thinking abt ud again

like how they kept in that line from matt in reference to ashleys Original character being something of an addict, when u find jacks cigar butt around the back of the lodge in the dlc matt says “maybe ashley has a weird stogie habit”

which, first of all, why would he Immediately think it was ashleys if she didnt have Some kind of substance vice in canon, and also the fact emily doesnt flag it as a weird thing to say means its probably well known in the group at large cause ashley n emily dont exactly know each other/get along that well ghjk

so yeah, ive always thought it was an interesting part of her character, maybe not as extreme as the og script had her but ashley with a cigarette habit, or some kind of drug use, feels like it makes sense with her general Vibe

[thepandalion]

new hyperfixiation is like a chew toy and I'm a very aggressive dog

[wastedlands]

y’all are so lucky i have zero time right now or i would be punting luke onto his own blog

[cherrylight]

me lately when i think about dave tbh

[gothamcityneedsme]

convos with kaiden are so complex and multilayered and tbh fascinating on a structural level with the flow of the conversation. shepards responses arent quite as interesting but shepard doesnt really get more engaging until me2 and me3 imo. But kaiden in me1 is just written well and his convos seem like the most interlayered.

[yashley]

ashley in c3e25

[average-mako-enjoyer]

Okay.

You are an officer on a state-of-the-art prototype US submarine. During one of your missions, your captain decides to pick a Russian ex-general (son of a Russian ex-president) and a Chinese ex-cop, who is an active candidate to become a Chinese super spy, because they can potentially help with your super secret mission for the US government.

Is it racism to question your captain's choices and tell him that these people probably shouldn't be around your submarine's weapons and engine?

Please think about it.

Also, it was her grandfather who fought in that war, not her dad.

yall can anyone tell me if ashley actually says anything racist towards the quarians in me1? i can't remember anything, but i mightve just not triggered the right dialogue.

and, you see, this is crucial to me because if she doesn't, my point about her being (mostly) just suspicious about tHE BEINGS THAT JUST BEEN KICKONG HUMANS ASSES A WHILE AGO instead of full on racist the way people make her would hold up even better.

[impala-dreamer]

Dark As The Ocean

A Tale From The MCU

Stucky x Reader (Bucky/Reader/Steve)

2,142 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Threesome, Cream Pie, Cum Eating, Cum Kisses, Oral, Anal, Fluff, Bucky’s in charge! Steve’s shy, Y/N is just along for the ride. 

A/N: So this happened. For Ashley @because-imma-lady-assface and a square on the Dreamer's Smutty Bingo card my followers made for me!

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

It felt like drowning in the best way.

So much crystalline blue surrounded her, eclipsing every other color as if God had turned the vibrancy up and the shadows down.

Steve’s eyes, so innocent yet hungry, swam up and down every inch of her nakedness, riding the wave of each curve and setting her passion on edge.

Bucky, confident and leading, kept his blue eyes locked on her face, watching every minuscule twitch and flutter, leaving only to check on his partner and come back again. He was playing Steve just as much as her, and they were all beyond the point of total arousal, naked and tumbling on the rented bed, reaching higher with every touch.

Steve pulled out, letting her orgasm seep down into the crisp white sheets. He hovered above her, strong arms holding him up while keeping her down. She squirmed against him, tightening her legs around his trim hips and clawing at his biceps. Every bit of her was drunk on pleasure, but she needed more. Her body ached to be filled and her mind was wiped clean of everything but cock.

“Please…” Her eyes were wide and wet; her voice weak and pathetic.

Flattered and empowered by her desperation, he rocked forward and teased the tip of his cock against her slit, pushing in only enough to make her jaw drop and her breath stop.

Her nails dug into his forearm, denting the tanned flesh with perfect slivers that mocked the moon hanging over the Capitol. “Please!”

Steve relented and jabbed deep inside with a quick snap of his hips. Y/N let out a muffled whimper as she tried in vain to hide her filthy cry behind tight lips.

Bucky cleared his throat and her eyes flew to his stern expression. “Don’t hold back, doll. You know I like to hear what’s going on in that dirty head of yours.”

She shuddered at the strength in his tone and chewed her lip, nodding in understanding.

Another deep thrust and her eyes rolled back. “Fuck, Steve-”

“You can do better,” Bucky urged as he slowly fisted his cock. He stood off to the side of the bed, watching intently as the others played.

Y/N moaned as Steve dipped down to lick into her mouth. She wrapped a delicate hand around the nape of his neck and held him there, hazy eyes staring into the deep blue of his irises.

“God, you fuck me so good,” she whispered, arching her back and pressing her tits into his firm chest. “Always need your fat cock, Steve. Fuck!”

His face flushed red as a firecracker and he kissed a shy smile against her lips.

Bucky laughed gently. “There it is. Love seeing you all flustered, Steve.”

She clung to him and rolled her hips, taking him deeper with every thrust.

Steve’s jaw tensed and his eyes shut tight. He moaned wordlessly, too stuck in his rhythm to think. He dipped down to kiss her and his long lashes tickled her cheek. She sighed, lost in heaven as he pushed her down into the soft mattress and licked into her mouth.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, breath hot against her lips.

His eyes fluttered open and Y/N fell into the dark ocean once more.

“So perfect.”

Another kiss and her body tightened around his cock.

“So amazing…”

Y/N came hard, shuddering beneath him and panting against his plump, kiss-swollen lips. “Fuck…”

Steve grinned and slowed his pace, fucking her through the pulsing orgasm until she was moaning loudly and leaking again.

Hard as a rock and enjoying the show, Bucky slowly made his way onto the bed, sneaking up behind Steve. He traced a cold metal finger down the length of Steve’s spine, making him shiver and sit up, arching his back.

“You two are so fucking hot.” Bucky growled against Steve’s back, dropping wet kisses as he moved up to his ear. “I want you to cum, Steve,” he ordered. “Fill up that sweet little peach…”

Without warning, he bit down on Steve’s right shoulder and the hero crumbled. He gripped Y/N’s hips as his own jerked uncontrollably. She could feel him pulsing deep inside her, see the orgasm ripple through his muscles, hear his breath catch. She covered his hands with her own, holding him there and watching every tiny twitch of pleasure on his handsome face.

“Good boy…” Bucky hissed his whisper into Steve’s ear and then departed. He dropped down next to Y/N and propped himself on his right arm.

Panting and empty, Steve pulled away and fell opposite Bucky, curling himself into Y/N’s right side. He nuzzled into her and closed his eyes for a moment, recovering.

Y/N turned her attention to the Soldier; a love-drunk smile painted upon her pretty lips. “Hi.”

He returned the smile but his eyes were dark and lust-filled. “Hey.” Reaching for her, Bucky cupped her cheek, the mechanical palm covering everything. She shivered at the cold and sighed as it warmed nearly immediately. “You having fun?”

She parted her lips to answer, but Bucky dragged his finger across her mouth and pushed it inside. Silenced, Y/N moaned and nodded before clamping her lips shut.

He bit his lip and watched her eyes roll as she sucked. “Fucking gorgeous, ain’t she, Steve?”

Somehow, he managed to lift his head and agree, sliding his gaze up and down her deliciously soft body. “Very.”

“You did a great job fucking her,” Bucky continued, pulling his finger free to let it drift over her flesh. “Got her all limp…” He dipped his hand between her thighs and Y/N arched up off of the mattress, squirming at the touch. “... and warm…” With a flick of his tongue, he caught her nipple in his teeth while dipping a finger into her cunt. She moaned loudly and Bucky grinned. “Just a mess, aren’t you?”

Y/N nodded again and clenched around his finger. “Yeah…”

“A sloppy mess.” He scooped a morsel of cum from inside and lifted it to her lips. “Open.”

She complied instantly, pulling his slick finger back into her mouth and sucking it clean.

“Don’t swallow,” he growled. “Steve needs a kiss…”

Steve hummed in interest and sat up on his elbows to reach her. She kissed him gently and his lips parted, accepting his own cum onto his tongue. He moaned at the tang of it and deepened the kiss.

Bucky whistled. “Taste good?”

The kiss broke and Steve set his eyes on Bucky. “Yes.”

“Hmm…” Bucky dipped back into the mess, this time licking it up himself. His eyes closed as he savored the familiar taste and leaned over Y/N to catch Steve’s lips.

They kissed above her, tongues darting out to mingle in the space between, and Y/N stared in awe as her pussy throbbed with renewed arousal. She reached down on either side of herself and stroked their cocks gently, dragging her fingers from base to tip before wrapping her soft hands around them both. Steve groaned into Bucky’s mouth and tried to pull back, but strong hands held him there. His face was caught in Bucky’s big hands, his eyes locked into the intensity of deep blue staring back.

“I think,” Bucky teased between licks at Steve’s mouth, “you should go clean up the rest of your mess…”

In an instant, Bucky’s right hand was tight around the back of Steve’s neck. He pushed his face down until his mouth was positioned over Y/N’s mound before easing up.

“Go on. Lick her clean.”

Y/N spread her legs wide as Steve crawled between them; sucked in a heavy breath as his tongue traced her slit. Her thighs shook and she squeezed Bucky’s cock tighter, stroking in time with Steve’s frantic licks.

Bucky sat up on his knees and Y/N’s vision went hazy. He was gorgeous- muscles gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat, his pink lips set in a hard line. His breath deepened as she ran her hand down his shaft and he let loose a gravely moan.

“Love your cock…” she mewed, biting her lip as he swelled thicker against her palm.

Bucky grinned and thrust his hips, jabbing the tip of his cock against her side.

Desperate tears welled in her eyes. “Please… please fuck me, Bucky. I need you so bad…”

Blue eyes trailed down her curves and locked in on Steve’s face. “Sorry, doll,” he sighed. “Not your turn.”

He left her with a kiss and disappeared, making her whimper in disappointment.

The cry was short-lived, however, and her breath stopped as Steve sucked a kiss to her clit and curled two fingers into her cunt. She rocked mindless Steven’s hungry mouth, feeling the pressure grow deep inside.

“Gonna make me cum again, fuck!” She squirmed on the sheets and grabbed at his hair as he swirled his tongue in quick, tight circles. “Steve!”

Bucky reappeared, standing at the foot of the bed behind Steve. His cock was slick with lube and his gaze was firm.

“Don’t you dare cum,” he warned. “Not until I say.”

Her thighs clamped tight around Steve’s head. “Fuck!”

Bucky ran his hand down Steve’s back. “Is that a yes?”

Her shoulders shot up off of the bed as the edge quickly approached. “Yes! Yes. No cumming!”

“Good.”

His attention turned to Steve and he gave his plump ass a swift tap. Without verbal prompting, Steve pushed his ass up and spread his knees, balancing on the foot of the bed while keeping his face stuffed blissfully in Y/N’s dripping cunt.

“Such a good boy, Steve,” he praised as he rubbed the head of his big cock against Steve’s hole. “Always so ready for me, aren’t you?”

Steve hummed happily and lapped at Y/N’s swollen lips. “Ready…”

Slowly, Bucky pushed inside, inching his way in as Steve melted between them. He was still for a long moment, lost in sweet sensations and rising bliss. His body eased open, perfectly trained and accepting.

Once fully seated inside, Bucky caressed the pert globes of Steve’s ass and gently rocked forward. Steve came back to life, his cock throbbing and his eyes rolling.

“God!”

Y/N laughed gently at his pleasured shout and stroked his cheek. “You look so happy right now,” she purred.

Chin wet with her juices; body full of his best friend, Steve grinned and licked his lips. His eyes were drifting and unfocused, and he gripped her hips as Bucky pumped into his ass. “I am,” he confessed, “so fucking happy.”

Behind him, Bucky growled and pushed up on his toes, shifting the angle just enough to make Steve’s voice fade and set his tongue to work.

Y/N was drowning again, thrashing against a wave of forbidden pleasure and stuck staring into blue eyes that pulled her down. Jaw dropped and drooling, moments from passing out, she pleaded with Bucky. “Please let me cum, please!”

A smirk tugged at his shadowed lip and Bucky slapped his heavy hand down on the small of Steve’s back, pulling him back as he jerked forward. Each of Bucky’s thrusts drove Steve’s tongue deeper into Y/N and she couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Please! God, fuck!”

 Feeding on her frustration, he stared darkly at her, making her wait, keeping her teetering on the dangerous edge. His own pleasure peaked and his upper lip curled into a sneer.

“Do it,” he groaned. “Cum with me, doll.”

 Her shout eclipsed Bucky’s deep grunts as he emptied into Steve’s ass. He let the man hang there, trapped between quaking orgasms as his cock leaked, untouched and aching. When Bucky finally pulled out, Steve shivered. He could feel every drop trickle down the back of his thighs and he went limp at Y/N’s feet.

Exhausted, Bucky scrubbed a hand down his face and crawled back onto the bed to take Y/N into his arms. She cuddled into him, still shaking and tingling.

“You’re incredible,” she cooed. Her tongue was tired, but she managed well enough. “Both of you.”

Unable to speak, Steve gave her a weak thumbs up.

Bucky dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “So are you.”

“I’m all sticky,” she announced with a laugh.

Again, Steve lifted his hand, this time waving. “Me too.”

Bucky sighed and sat up. “I guess it’s shower time, kids.”

Y/N jumped up and set off for the bathroom. Her legs ached and her pussy was sore, but it was worth every limping step. “Meet ya in there!”

Steve lifted his head and blinked at Bucky, still stunned and utterly spent.

“You coming?”

“Yeah, but-” Steve pushed up slightly and then fell back down with a laugh. “I think you’re gonna have to carry me…”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Tim Through the Years - Meet the Class

Series Masterlist

Summary: Tim meets your class of 25 five-year-olds. 1.2k+ words.

“Hey, can I run something by you?” you asked Tim while you were having lunch at his desk.

Tim looked up at you mid-bite of his shared sandwich. He chewed quickly and asked, “Of course, is everything okay?”

You softly bit your lip. “Yes. I know you aren’t a fan of community outreach, but will you come to my class and talk about safety and what to do in an emergency?”

Tim gave you his million-dollar smile “I’d be more than happy to come and talk to your class. I get to spend a whole morning with a beautiful lady.” He leans over and kisses you. “I also get the added bonus of being away from Lucy, too.”

You shoved him slightly. “I think you like the latter more.”

“Hey, that’s police brutality. I might have to handcuff you to this desk all day and then you’ll have to hang out with me.” Tim smiled as he spoke.

“Aw! You two are just so cute!” Lucy said when she walked up to the desk.

“Hi Lucy, how are you?” you turned and asked her.

“I’m doing well! Do you think we can have a girls night with me, you, Angela, Nyla and Bailey? We could go paint pottery or watch a movie or go laser tag or…." Before Lucy could finish, Tim sent her a glare.

“Can I help you with something, Officer Chen?” Tim growled out.

“Our suspect is ready to talk,” Chen said to Tim.

“I’ll see you later,” Tim told you as he kissed the top of your head.

“Bye Tim! Bye Lucy! We definitely have to get together soon!”

You wave them off as you pack up and leave. 

You paced back and forth before school started, waiting on Tim to arrive. You were extremely nervous because your students, while awesome, were very protective of you. They’ve stopped a presentation before because the man who was talking about his job told the class that they could do better than being a teacher. The poor guy got booed and slightly bullied by the group of 5-year-olds, so you just hope that today goes over well. Tim texted you to let you know that he would be a little late due to the fact he saw a crime being committed right in front of him.

When the bell finally rang, your group of students walked into the classroom all chatting away with each other. They put their bags up and sat down in the respective seats (it took a while for them to get down). 

“Good morning everyone!” you tell the class when the second bell rang.

“Good Morning Miss. Winchester!” they responded. 

You started the morning off with doing some freeze dance to get the kids ready to start the day. When that was done, you picked up right where you left off from yesterday. Some students still shouted out answers, but others would remember and raised their hands. You found it adorable how much they enjoy getting to learn. Soon, there was a knock at the door. 

“Class, we have a very special guest today who is going to talk to us about safety.” You walked up to the door, you let Tim and, to your surprise, two more officers in.

“IS THAT A DOG?!?!?!” a student named Ashley shouted.

All the students erupted in excitement, and you had to use your quiet hand gesture to try and settle the class as Tim, a K9 officer, and a small dog walked up to the front of the class. 

“Class, Meet Sergeant Bradford from the LAPD,” you announced to the students.

“Good morning, students, as you heard, I’m Sergeant Bradford, and today I’m talking about safety. Firstly, I brought two special guests with me, Officer Stan with his K-9 Officer Fuzz.”

Officer Stan smiled and greeted the students as Officer Fuzz, a small dachshund, barked excitedly as a greeting.

“I brought Officer Fuzz in today so you can understand what a K-9 is used for and when to approach one,” Tim explained.

“Officer Fuzz is used like any other police officer; he helps us find bad guys and can catch bad guys faster than we can. Officer Fuzz can run up to 20 miles per hour, so we typically send him in to run after someone. Officer Fuzz also helps smell out bad stuff for us to take away. You can approach a police dog at any time with permission from the Officer. If you do see a police dog chasing after someone or he looks angry, do not approach. He could accidentally hurt you because he’s trying to protect his fellow officers or trying to stop someone,” Officer Stan explained. “Any questions?”

Lots of hands flew into the air, so you called on a girl named Hanna to ask the first question. “Does Officer Fuzz stay at the station all the time?”

“That’s a great question! No, Officer Fuzz is technically my dog. So, when I get off work, he gets to go home and be with me. He also goes in when I do, so just like me, Officer Fuzz gets to be a normal dog when he’s not working,” Stan said.

The students continued their questions about Officer Fuzz and his handler. Before Officer Stan had to leave to go back to work, he released Officer Fuzz so he could run around and receive pets from everyone. Officer Fuzz ran up to you last and laid on his back for belly rubs.

“Aren’t you the cutest?” You bent down and gave the tail-wagging dog belly rubs.

“You might have some competition, Bradford,” Stan said with a smile and slightly nudged Tim. Stan called back Officer Fuzz and they both left with waves of goodbyes and a huge “Thank you!” from your students.

“Hello again! I want to tell everyone what to do if they feel unsafe or lost. If you get away from your mommy or your daddy, find a store worker or an officer to help you find your mom or dad. If you are in danger or hurt, call 911 and we will do everything we can to help you. Do we have any questions?”

“What do you do as a Sergeant?” Logan, a young student, asked.

“I am everyone’s boss; I tell them what to do and make sure their job is getting done. I am currently training someone to become a police officer, they are called a Rookie,” Tim explained.

Your students asked as many questions as they could until the lunch bell rang, and the class let out a collective grown in disappointment. 

“Can we have lunch with Sergeant Bradford?” Wade asked, and the other students jumped in to agree.

“I don’t think Sergeant Bradford can stay any longer, he does have to leave at some point,” you said softly.

“I can stay for lunch,” Tim said with a smile. The class cheered and you sent them to get their lunches and to have a private moment with Tim.

“You didn’t have to stay,” you said to Tim as you looked up at him.

“I’m more than happy to. Your students are wonderful,” Tim said with a smile, and kissed the top of your head.

“Did Miss Winchester fix your heart?” Johnny asked Tim, startling both of you. 

Tim smiled and looked at you. “Yeah, she did,” he answered, which caused you to blush.

Johnny’s eyes got all big and he quickly ran out to the other students.

“Guys!!!! Sergeant Bradford is Miss. Winchester’s husband!!”

You then hear a loud scream of joy and all the students running in to ask the both of you a million questions about this new revelation. It was going to be a very long afternoon. 

[plutoswritingplanet]

Vicarious (Homelander x Female!Reader) pt.2

a/n: at my young, spry age, writing a twitter thread felt like "how do you do fellow kids", y'all better appreciate the sacrifice, Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: General Creepy Behavior, Plus Sized Reader, my inability to write a press conference yeehaw

Summary: First time in front of the cameras, you try to embrace your new persona... For better or worse

Vicarious Masterlist

This isn't you. You're not here.

The face staring back at you from the mirror might have some resemblance, but the heavy, over the top makeup distorts your features in a way, that makes you almost unrecognizable. The moment you've signed that contract, someone took your soul straight out of your body, containing it in a box, far from your reach. Sometimes you can almost feel it, the real you, like a ghost passing through a room. The Smirnoff you've carefully crafted over the years. She's in the way you walk, shoulders hunched, like you're carrying the weight of the world on them. In the heavy feeling of cigarette smoke, settling into your lungs after a rough day.

In the shower, you can almost hear her as well. Your voice is off-key, low, and doesn't seem to remember half the words, but it's much more genuine than the chirpy, lobotomized tone they commanded you to talk in. Media training was pure hell. It only lasted an hour, as your schedule appeared to be pretty tight, but the way Ashley spoke to you, with an air of patronizing authority, made you grit your teeth at the mere memory.

This body, soft and pliable, stuffed crudely into a corset that dug itself into your skin, like it was trying to force you to fit a mold. Those exposed, fishnet clad legs, were not yours as well. They were surely someone else's. Yours were hidden under all those flowery long skirts you've gathered over the years, so proud of your thrifted collection, which is now gathering dust back home. That's where you left the box with your soul, stacked it away under flowy linens and music sheets from your lessons. 

You ponder over this feeling. This complete separation from your body. Perhaps this was your true superpower. And then your phone alarm goes off, and everything is shoved down, as your platform boots... No... Fireball's platform boots, carry you out of your room and down the corridor. 

Homelander is already waiting for you, his stature imposing, looming  over a crowd of backstage workers, as they clean off any imperfections before the press conference. His eyes snap towards you, the moment you step into the room, and you swallow thickly, remembering your last, admittedly, very fucking weird interaction. Ashley flashes past you, giving you a quick once over, seemingly satisfied with your look. It's hard to tell really, she always seems to find some flaw that needs to be corrected.

- Did you read the talking points? - she asks, her eyes flickering between you, and her tablet.

- Mhm... - too low, you think, adjusting the tone of your voice slightly.

There's a lot of people, more than what you're used to. Moving past the red-head, you sneak a peak behind the heavy curtain, separating you from the reporters chattering outside. What you see, does nothing to calm your nerves, as your eyes scan over a crowd of smart dressed people, the microphones, the cameras. 

Perhaps, just perhaps, you've bitten off more than you can chew. 

- Nervous? - a familiar voice says to your side, and you pull back, like you've been caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

Homelander looks almost exactly how you remember, when you saw him the first time. When he tried to convince you, he's every bit the perfect person from his movies. There's a charming smile plastered on his face, and he holds himself with an air of heroic otherworldliness, not a trace of the creepy, leering supe you've come to know. Your eyebrows furrow, but you decide to play along. You're not alone here, there's constant buzzing of surveilence around you, after all.

- Very much, yeah - you admit, sincerely, throwing a cautious look towards the podium.

He laughs in a weirdly boyish manner. You imagine, this is how a Ken doll would laugh, if it was alive. His hand reaches up, grabbing your shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. His touch feels like needles on your skin, but you smile nonetheless. Cameras, remember the cameras. There are people all around you, and as such, someone is surely watching.

- Don't worry, you'll do great - he announces, then leans forward, until his face stops mere inches from your ear, making your body freeze up at the proximity - Don't even think about embarrassing me out there. No outbursts, no remarks, just keep on smiling and be the fucking mascot they hired you to be.

Okay, ouch. He leans back, his expression never changing from that same, bright smile. You blink up at him a couple of times. It's honestly impressing, how he keeps up the appearance of a perfect, selfless hero. 

- Fucking hell, okay...

This time, the squeeze is anything but comforting, and you can feel all of his fingers dig into the meat of your shoulder. 

- Language - he scolds you with a pointed finger, and to anyone standing on the outside, the gesture might seem endearing.

You know the truth however, and it takes a lot of strength out of you, not to flip him off. It seems he's taking the role of a mentor a bit too seriously. Or perhaps, he's just a patronizing asshole. As you watch his plastic smile, you're more and more inclined to believe the second option.

Still, there is something grounding in the way he holds you close, his hand steering you towards the curtain, and as it leaves your shoulder, you find yourself feeling conflicted. Especially now, since the announcer is saying your name to the sound of moderate applause, which intensifies as soon as the curtain moves to the side, exposing you, and Homelander to the hungry eyes of the reporters. 

You knees start to wobble, as you're suddenly confronted with the reality of the flashing cameras, the lights, the voices. Your heart beats out of your chest, anxiety slowly but surely overtaking your body, and not knowing any other alternative, your hand reaches out in a gesture bordering on desperation.

Homelander flinches, when your fingers grab onto the material of his glove. His eyes flicker towards you for just a moment, taking in the rapidity of your pulse, thrumming through your veins. The shortness of breath, as your nails bite into the custom made leather. Your eyes are locked onto the reporters, and your body seems to be stuck in an awkward pose, in-between steps. Out of all the things, that could frighten you in your, frankly, hopeless situation, crowds were an unexpected turn of events. 

So much for the strong, independent whatever. Homelander lets your hand linger for just a moment, if only to amuse himself further, before he steps forward to the podium, adjusting the microphone to his height. Your fingers curl around air, and you force your back to straighten. 

- Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all for coming - his voice booms through the conference room, and he takes a small pause, letting the applause subside - As you've probably been informed, I'm here to announce a very special, new member of The Seven. She'll be joining the team on a temporary basis, as a replacement for Lamplighter.

Shit. You swallow thickly, and Homelander's smirk grows into something sharper at the sound, hidden from everyone else but himself. 

- I give you, Fireball!

He turns to you with a flourish, inviting you to step towards the podium. Your eyes flicker towards his, and he gives you a pointed look, that makes your heart sink to the floor. Here you are, presented to the wolves by a much worse monster. Deep breaths, remember that fated hour of media training. There's a role to play, after all.

This isn't you. You're not here. 

A bright, practiced smile floats onto your features, and finally you take a step forward, your hands curling into tight fists at your sides. You can feel the texture of your matte lipstic pull at your lips, the high-end eyeliner sticking the corners of your eyes together. The reporters clap politely, and you try to focus on a point above their heads, like they taught you in high school. The last time you've been in front of such a crowd, was when your friend roped you into taking part in a student reedition of Heathers. A fucking miserable affair.

 You're a little bit too quiet, for a little bit too long, and Homelander bristles out of the corner of your eye. You can see his chest expand, as he inhales deeply. Then, he moves in front of you, standing closer to the microphone, and intentionally or not, saving you from all the curious looks. You take a moment to gather your bearings, closing your eyes for just a second.

- Now, we have limited time for questions, so let's keep it simple - he announces, scanning the crowd of raised hands. - Gentleman in the back?

- Hi, John Douglas VNN. A question for Fireball?

Homelander turns to you with that same, plastic smile, and you nod, trying to convince yourself, more than him, that you're ready to speak. He moves aside, just enough to make a sliver of space for you in front of the microphone, and you step up with a sigh. 

- Hey, what's up? - there's a tremble to your voice, which you try to swallow down. 

- I think we're all surprised by you joining The Seven - the man comments with a smirk - Can you tell us some more about the recruitment process?

You take a deep breath, imagine your friend in front of you, and lean against the podium with a lazy smile. You're not here, after all. This isn't you.

- Well, a video of me, helping out during a house fire went viral, and soon enough Vaught has offered me a temporary partnership. - there's a playful tilt to your words, and you can already see all the comments pouring in - Besides, y'all have seen the contract.

There's a murmur of sheepish laughter rolling over the conference room, and you swallow thickly, trying to fight off the dryness in your throat.

- Here, at the front? - Homelander cuts in, leaning closer as he speaks to the microphone. 

Absent-mindedly, you note he smells very, almost obscenely expensive, and your nose crinkles slightly as you take a breath. 

- Mileena Johnson, News Nation - a woman in a tasteful costume stands up - Given this sudden interest from Vaught, is it safe to assume you're not used to all this?

She looks around the room, then back to you and mirrors your smile, flashing her perfectly white teeth. With a sardonic expression, you lean towards the microphone again, some unknown, mischievous note entering your voice.

- Oh, yeah! - you confirm - I'm a media virgin, through and through.

There's a strangled sound of multiple people laughing, some reporters clearly thrilled by the joke, others shaking their head disapprovingly. There's a large portion just staring at you, and you fight off the urge to cringe at your own words. Then, there's a small noise, somewhere next to you, and pushed by curiosity, you look over at Homelander. He looks conflicted between keeping up the smile, and stepping in, eventually opting to lean back, his eyes shifting between you and the reporters with a hint of curiosity hidden behind them. 

And then he moves, shifting ever so slightly behind you, his hand finding purchase on the lower part of your back, his fingertips drumming lightly against the zipper. Your back straightens like a guitar string, a shiver of something running up your spine. With his free hand, he points towards another reporter, who stands up and introduces himself politely. 

It's hard for you to focus.

- How, in your opinion, an addition of such a young Hero will affect the team?

Homelander's hand climbs higher, towards the edge of your corset. You can feel his gloved fingertips dance across the stitching. 

- I'll do everything in my power to help the Seven fight for peace - you answer, voice slightly choked up, but your expression remains impassive.

- That's right! - Homelander chimes in, suddenly much more animated - Such a young, fresh, addition will surely motivate us to push ourselves even harder.

Another reporter raises her hand, and you're starting to scream internally, as Homelander's gloved hand abandons your corset in favor of running up your bare skin. Your smile falters for just a second, as he grabs onto the back of your neck, squeezing a few times, before letting his hand rest under your hair. 

- Something for the tabloids? - the reporter announces - I have to say, the both of you look great together, and since Homelander's recent breakup with Queen Meave, we're wondering, what exactly is the relationship between the two of you?

Fuck, fuckitty fuck fuck fuck, your brain scrambles for a proper response. That was not included in the talking points. Although eventual shipping was expected, you were aware of the culture, you though it would take some time for the thing to sail away. Unfortunately, the reporter blinks expectantly, and the longer you stay silent, the worse the rumors will undoubtedly get. Out of the corner of your eye, you can already see Homelander lean towards the mic, and knowing deep in your bones, that whatever he says, will be humiliating, you lurch forwards. 

- We're coworkers. He's my mentor, I'm his student. Do with that, what y'all want.

- Right, is there a chance that a romance may bloom? - the reporter pushes further, adjusting her glasses on her nose.

- I met him yesterday, y'all - you comment with an exasperated sigh, and force yourself to ignore the way Homelander's finger tangles itself into the hair growing at the base of your skull.

The reporter laughs and sits down, and this time you can't stop the sigh of relief from escaping your lips. Another hand shoots up in the back of the room, and Homelander points to it over your shoulder. A man in his thirties stands up, and even blinded by the reflectors, you can see the cocky smirk on his face. 

- I've seen the video - he starts, a flippant tone entering his voice - And I couldn't help but wonder, how did Vaught even let someone so inexperienced into the Tower?

It's quiet, dozens of eyes flicker nervously between you and Homelander, and his hand stills at your back. You're not here. This isn't you. And so, lips pulled back into a mean bastardization of a bright smile, you lean heavily on the podium, letting it all, proverbially, hang out.

- I flashed the doorman.

You don't have to have a degree in media analysis to notice the sudden uptake in flashing lights. Homelander's hand falls from your back in a languid motion, the leather of his glove dragging itself down your spine, before he moves, and takes up the entirety of space in front of the podium.

- And on that - he pauses, and pretends to look back at you, too lazy to actually commit to the bit - thrilling note, I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today. Thank you all for coming. God bless you all!

You wave a half assed goodbye to all the gathered people, and before anyone can say anything else, you turn on your heel and walk back towards a very pissed-off-looking Ashley. The white light of her tablet is illuminating her scowl, and involuntarily, you groan. 

- What the fuck was that? - she asks, before you get one word out - Freezing up like an idiot? Making stupid fucking jokes? 

Homelander enters soon after you, his expression unreadable. He stands in the back, arms crossed in front of his chest, observing your interaction with Ashley. Seemingly pondering over something. His inaction, somehow, makes flames of irritation rise inside your gut, and you direct your anger towards the red-headed woman.

- Stillwell is going to have my fucking head - Ashley lamments, eyes locked onto her tablet - This will be horrible for your ratings, not to mention Homelander's.

With a roll of your eyes, you step closer, grabbing the hardware and consequently, forcing her to look up at you.

- Oh yeah? - there's a note of bravery entering your voice, and Homelander's eyebrow shoots upwards - Check fucking Twitter.

For just a second, Ashley hesitates, blinking at you owlishly. Then, she taps away at the tablet, her features illuminated with blue. Homelander's hashtag is trending, as expected, but you can see your given Hero name right under it. The third hashtag makes you smirk. Ashley starts reading out loud.

"Have y'all seen that interaction between #Homelander and #Fireball?" 

There's a video, couple seconds long, where you can see yourself, frozen with nerves backstage, Homelander leaning over your form. From afar, it looks comforting, cute even. You smirk. It cuts to the moment his hand sneaked up your back. Even to you, the gesture looks like a show of support, although you're sure some groups of people will run with the romance storyline.

"I have an anxiety disorder, and #Fireball is showing clear signs of an anxiety attack"

"No media training seen in the room #iconic"

"Aww, look at #Homelander comforting her, they're so cute together"

"Did we collectively forget what he said during that graduation speech?"

"Let's normalize people learning and growing"

"It's honestly heartwarming, seeing someone with mental health problems in The Seven, I finally feel represented"

"And can we talk about how #Homelander handled the situation? Truly, #AmericasGreatestHero"

"#MentalHealthKing"

It's quiet on set for a long moment, as both Ashley and Homelander seem to take in this one Twitter thread, among many similar ones. You, holding in laughter to the best of your abilities, wait patiently, until Ashley finally looks up at you.

- I know, why I'm here - you tell her, and something passes across her features.

She clears her throat, swiping on her tablet.

- You have training with Black Noir in an hour - she informs you, her voice back to that professional, emotionless tone - We'll get some footage of it out to the public, so try to behave. 

- Yes Ma'am - you smile, and once again, she gives you a strange look, before turning on her heels, and walking away, a satisfied lightness to her steps.

It's only you and Homelander left backstage, and as you turn to face him, he's already looking at you with an appraising gaze. Despite yourself, despite his borderline creepy behavior, and the threats, and the touches, you can't help, but smile. It starts off slow, a small smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth, but soon after that, all your teeth are on display. Because fuck it, you're proud of yourself, and for the first time since you've met him, Homelander doesn't look at you like you're a cut of meat on a bucther's rack. 

- That went so much better, than I expected - you breathe out, and he nods. 

- It sure was something - he says, leaning on a nearby pillar.

You bark a short laugh at his admission, the adrenaline from your first real encounter with the press, keeping you on a high you were not expecting. There's buzzing at the end of your fingertips, and you shake your hands, trying to dispell some of the energy. 

- Oh, I was ready to shit myself - you huff, shaking your head.

Homelander sucks on his teeth, his eyebrow shooting up.

- Language. - he reminds you, and you put up your hands in mock surrender.

It's easy, riding the wave of your newly found success. As such, you ignore the way his eyes glide all over your body, stopping rather obscenely at your chest. You pretend not to notice, the way his hands twitch at his sides, and you definitely don't see the tightness in his lower area. No, all of it doesn't matter, because you've proven your worth, not as much to Homelander, but to the company, and fuck, if it didn't feel good. 

Your enthusiasm turns to ashes in your mouth, as Homelander leans forward, invading your personal space like it wasn't yours to begin with. There's a glint of barely masked anger in his eyes, the blue of his irises getting swallowed by a dangerous, red sheen. Not enough to hurt anyone, but enough to let you know, you're on thin ice. Which confuses you beyond belief, because up until this point, you thought everything went peachy.

A gloved hand sneaks up, towards you chin, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough, you can imagine them chipping the bones underneath. 

- Next time - he seethes through gritted teeth - Keep your fucking mouth in check, or I'll find a better use for it.

Oh, that's new. Your soul leaves your body once again, the box locking it away with a click, that sounds like thunder in your ears. Homelander frowns, as if he can see the change happen right before his eyes. And perhaps, even through the fog of anger, he's perceptive enough. His posture falters slightly, as you take a step in his direction, or, more likely, Fireball does. 

- Why wait, I'm standing right here - the challenging note in your voice surprises both of you.

He blinks. You blink. And then, his face changes completely. The authoritarian expression of anger melts away into something you'd never expect. An almost childish sort of giddiness enters his eyes, and if you were yourself, not Fireball, you would've found the sparkling blue of his eyes enchanting. Terrifying, but impossible to look away. You should be thankful for this separation, it is surely saving your sanity. 

Before he can act out whatever his twisted, blonde mind conjured up, you slip past him like smoke out the window, your platform boots clicking against the floor. It doesn't matter, none of it matters. This isn't you after all. You're not here. 

It's long past her working hours, when Stillwelll finally has the time to sit down and unwind. Her phone screen reflects in the lenses of her reading glasses, a recognizable, Twitter-blue illuminating her features. Her eyes scan the site for a moment, and then, suddenly, her hand comes up to cover her mouth. 

There it is. A picture of her best project to date. You're standing awkwardly, shoulders tense, a sheen of sweat on your forehead mingling with a foundation, that's worth more than your entire wardrobe back home. Homelander's hand is holding you securely, fingers splayed at the skin of your back. And above the picture... "#MentalHealthKing" 

Stillwell laughs, quietly but sincerely. Who would've thought.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

| So, So, Right | pt.3

Stepbro! Anakin x innocent reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: smut, inappropriate relationships, oral sex, public/semi-public, demeaning/condescending words toward reader, fingering (kinda?), dom/sub dynamics, dd/lg dynamics (implied), eventual daddy kink

Info: Modern AU, Anakin is whipped, Anakin literally worships the ground you walk on, reader is accidentally a brat, reader has oral fixation

NOT PROOFREAD

The pleading in your voice was too much for Anakin. He’d been shoving these feelings down for too long, and here you were, offering yourself up to him without even knowing what you were asking for.

“Look at me.” He squeezed your cheeks together, shaking your chin slightly. “I need you to listen to me. Do you understand?”

“Yeth.” You agreed, your squished lips making it hard to speak.

“I’ll make it stop hurting. But you need to promise me you won’t tell - anyone - about it.” His voice was calm but stern.

“I promise!” You shook your head in agreement when he released his grip on your cheeks.

“You- you make me feel like that too, down here.” He gently guided your hand to his hard cock, closing your fingers around it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You gasped as the warmth transferred through the fabric.

He sighed, releasing your hand. “You know what it means don’t you?”

“Yes.” You nodded, your cheeks reddening as your gaze strayed from his. “Ashley told me. How her boyfriend does… things to her.”

“She did?” Anakin’s eyebrow raised, jealousy brewing at the fact that he wasn’t the first one to introduce you to the idea.

“Mhm. She also said I could do things like that to- um to myself.” You covered your face in embarrassment.

“Have you?” He asked, almost aggressively.

“No! No, I was too nervous.” You said quickly, chewing your lip. “I wanted to- to wait.”

Anakin breathed a sigh of relief, closing his eyes to ground himself before speaking again.

“What were you waiting for?” He questioned, tilting his head slightly.

“Ani!” You blushed, shying away from him. “I wanted… I didn’t want to ruin anything for when, or I mean if.” You furrowed your eyebrows, getting tripped up on your words.

“Take your time princess, it’s just me.” He whispered, tucking a hair behind your ear.

“I didn’t want to ruin anything for if I could- if I could be with you.” You whispered.

Anakin’s breath caught in his throat, he felt lightheaded as if his room was suddenly devoid of all oxygen. The blood drained from his face and rushed straight to his cock. He cradled your head in his hands, fingers laced in your hair and he brought his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

“You”, he spoke against your lips, “don’t know how long I’ve wanted you.”

You squirmed under him, the thickness between his legs pressing into your thigh as he held you close. You bucked your hips up, hands trailing down the muscles of his shoulders, earning a low growl from him.

“Let me take care of you.” He whispered, gliding his tongue across your collarbone, nipping gently at your neck.

His hands tenderly lifted your borrowed shirt, goosebumps pricking your flesh as his fingers traveled to the hills and valleys of your breasts. He tugged the shirt over your head and tossed it aside, the breath knocked out of him seeing your naked chest like this for the first time.

Gingerly he toyed with your nipples, rolling them between his forefinger and thumb. You mewled and arched up into his touch, he knew you needed more. So he kissed and licked his way across your breasts up to your nipple, suckling and nipping the sensitive bud.

With each soft moan from your perfect pink lips Anakin couldn’t help but rut into the mattress, needing some friction before he imploded. He’d waited so patiently, so so patiently, and now that he had you, he was close to tears. Knowing he couldn’t give you what he wanted tonight.

He groaned and pushed his selfish thoughts aside, taking your waist in his large hands to push you up the bed, giving him more room to work. Sloppy kisses trailed down your bare stomach, his puppy dog eyes glancing up at you when he reached the waist band of your underwear.

“I’m gonna take these off m’kay princess?” Half asking and half telling you.

You nodded eagerly, lifting your hips up to assist him.

“Good girl.” He whispered into your inner thigh, with your panties out of the way he could clearly see the glistening slick covering your pussy.

“My pretty pussy all wet for me…” he trailed off in awe.

His hands gripping your thighs to spread them farther, hungry eyes devouring every inch of your sex. His tongue making the short trip from your thigh to your cunt, pausing momentarily to speak.

“Ready baby doll?” He asked, breathless.

“Mhm.” You whimpered, eager hands coming to push his head down.

The moment your fingers made contact with his sandy curls he delved into your folds, tasting your arousal and breathing in your scent deeply. His eyes rolling back in his head at the act.

“So sweet.” He whispered, sliding his tongue into your clenching hole.

Trying his best to savor every second, listen to every sound, catch every drop of your slick. He kept up the slow pace, enjoying the way your hips rolled up to meet his tongue, how you pressed his head down each time his nose brushed your clit. Your mewling finally got to him, and he gave in.

Gently he sucked your clit into his mouth, slurping and rolling his tongue against you. Your eyes shot open, legs shaking from the sudden attention to your most sensitive spot.

“Anakin!” You gasped, bucking up into his mouth.

“I know, I know.” He groaned, his hands coming up to your hips, pulling you even closer into his mouth.

He used his thumbs on both sides of your sopping wet cunt to spread you farther apart. Alternating between flattening his tongue against you and shaking his head, and devouring your cunt with sloppy lewd slurping.

Your legs stiffened, thighs fighting his hands in an attempt to close around his head. He hummed against you, pulling a whine from your lips.

“An-Ani!” You pushed his head back, “somethings gonna-“ your words cut off with a load moan.

“S’okay baby, just let it go. Cum for me.” Muffled words from between your legs, one hand traveling up your abdomen in search of your hand.

Intertwining your fingers together he lovingly rubbed the back of your hand with his rough thumb pad. You squeezed tightly, eyes clamped shut with your mouth in a silent scream.

“Anakin!” You squealed, shaking under his skilled touch, his eyes opening quickly, his other hand covering your mouth just as another loud moan left your lips.

With one more skillful flick of his tongue you came unraveled beneath him. Your thighs in a vice grip around his head, his tongue delving into your pussy to fuck you through your orgasm. Your body shaking uncontrollably as you whimpered against his palm. Slick gushing around his tongue and dripping from his chin.

Big wet tears slid down your cheeks as you tried to regulate your breathing. Anakin tenderly cupped your cheeks in his hands, propping himself up to kiss away the tears. Scooping you into his arms for a grounding embrace. His lips against your hair as he whispered to you.

“You did so good babydoll. My perfect girl.” His arms snaking around you to bring your chest flush to his, creating a spot for your head to fit comfortably under his chin.

“That’s it, deep breaths babygirl.” Gentle hands petting you soothingly as your breathing returned to normal.

“How’s it feel?” He asked, a soft smile turning up his lips.

“S’good.” You whimpered, kissing his shoulder. “Feel all shaky.”

“Shhh, it’s alright. You just need a minute.” He cooed, twirling the end of your braid around his fore finger. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Will it happen everytime?” You asked, earning a chuckle from Anakin.

“I’ll make sure of it.” He answered, squeezing you tightly.

“What about you Ani?” You tried to pick up your head but he kept you firmly in place against his chest.

“Don’t worry about me princess.” He whispered.

“I wanna make you feel good too.” You pouted, feeling his cock twitch against your hip.

“You will. Just not yet.” He laughed. “One thing at a time baby girl.”

“But-“

“No.” He said sternly, giving no room for argument. “You’ll have to wait. I’ve gotta work you up to it baby doll. Get that pussy nice and stretched out f’me.”

You shuddered listening to the deliciously dirty words fall from his swollen lips. Your eyes getting droopy the longer he held you. He must’ve noticed, because he pulled up the blankets over your still vibrating body.

“Fuckin’ my tongue got you all tired didn’t it?” His lips connecting with the thin skin under your jaw. “Yeah it did huh baby?”

He teased nipping at your earlobe and pulling back so you could see his snarky little grin. He took your pouting bottom lip between his teeth and pulled slightly, drawing out a whimper, quickly soothing it by brushing his tongue over it.

“Sweet dreams princess.” He mumbled against your lips.

Your car rolled into the garage parking lot just after 12:30, wearing an old shirt of Anakin’s tied in a knot above your navel and a short black swishy skirt paired with converse. You happily bounded up to the door and walked straight in.

Tapping the bell at the front desk rapidly, when no one answered you stepped back and thought out what to do. You decided Anakin would be sad (and you would be sadder) if you just left his lunch on the desk, so you tiptoed to the side door and peeked through the window.

You saw him on a stool, leaned over the front of a busted up car. You stood there watching for a minute, soaking up the sight of his fore arms flexing with each turn of the wrench. Chewing your lip and wondering if that’s what his arms would look like between your legs.

You could feel slick gathering in your panties, squeezing your thighs together in embarrassment for feeling this way in public. You twisted the door knob and the sounds of machinery and men shouting hit your ear drums. The door tripped a small bell hanging over the frame, catching the attention of everyone in the garage.

Anakin’s face went from confusion to excitement, he shoved the wrench into his deep pants pocket then hurriedly unzipped his work suit. Tying it at his waist and jogging over to you. A shrill whistle broke out and Anakin rolled his eyes.

“Shut your mouth Mikey!” He shot back over his shoulder, grinning at you before scooping you up with one arm.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the expressions the other men pulled as they watched Anakin effortlessly toss you over his shoulder and tote you out of the garage. One hand firmly gripping your thigh just beneath your ass cheek, the other pushing open the door.

Once at your car Anakin lowered you to the pavement, opening up your door and leaning over you to turn the key, starting up the AC. The car dipped a bit when he plopped into the passenger seat, rubbing his hands together excitedly as you unpacked his lunch for him.

“Oh thank god.” He said, dramatically clutching his stomach.

You passed him one of two sandwiches, which he immediately began scarfing down. His cheeks full as his head smacked the headrest, holding out his hand to accept the cold water bottle you brought. Chips, crackers and peanut butter, and one huge dill pickle waited alongside his other sandwich.

“My best girl.” He tenderly pinched your chin between his thumb and finger. “Always so good to me.”

You blushed at the sweet endearment, fidgeting with the collar of his soiled white shirt. You watched In adoration as he devoured his food, chugging the water and squishing the bottle before twisting the cap back on. Just before he grabbed the pickle to finish off his meal he stopped himself.

“Wait, c’mere first.” He turned to you, pulling you close by grabbing your cheeks with one hand.

He caught you off guard, but once his lips met yours you melted into his touch. Soft lips danced together slowly in a tender embrace, Anakin tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss for just a moment. He pulled back, smiling before taking a -crunch- out of the pickle.

“Didn’t want you to suffer with my pickle breath.” He laughed, still chewing.

“I wouldn’t mind.” You said, propping your chin up in your palm while your elbow rested on the console.

“You wouldn’t?” He turned with a cheeky grin, and you immediately regretted saying that.

He took another bite of the pickle and leaned over the console, grabbing you by the back of your head and forcing your mouth to his, pushing the bite past your lips with his tongue.

“Gross!” You shoved his shoulders, laughing as you spit it out in your hand.

“Hey don’t waste that!” He said, taking it directly from your palm with his lips, crunching it proudly now that he had properly disgusted you.

“S’good, thought I should share.” He grinned, shrugging his shoulders.

With his trash tucked back into the lunch bag he turned to face you, taking note of the way your eyes lingered on his hands, your gaze tracking his every movement.

“Whatcha’ thinking about princess?” He asked, tapping his pointer finger on his temple, “I can see those wheels turning.”

“Nothing,” you gave him a soft smile, your eyes momentarily flicking down to his crotch.

A smirk pulled on the corners of his lips, dangerous thoughts creeping up the back of his neck. How could he resist? He had to give you something to look forward too.

“Aw babydoll! You know you can’t hide from me.” He leaned over to nuzzle into your neck, lips suctioned to the skin beneath your jaw.

He watched proudly as you squirmed in your seat, his girl, getting all flustered for him. All you could do was whimper in response and try to find something to busy your hands with.

“I know what you need.” He whispered, flicking your earlobe with the tip of his tongue.

Leaving wet spots down your throat he stopped at your shoulder to bite down, hard, but not hard enough to hurt. Long fingers flipped up the edge of your skirt, dancing along the elastic of your panties. Using his middle finger he slid down the fabric until he felt a warm wetness seeping through.

He spoke against your skin, his condescending tone oozing out in his words. “You need me to touch your pathetic little pussy don’t you?”

“Mhm.” You bucked up against his finger, desperately hoping he’d give in.

He slipped under the elastic, lifting the fabric to run his finger tip down your cunt teasingly. Committing the breathy gasp you made to memory.

He had to hear it again, needed it. The calloused pad of his middle finger gathered your slick, bringing it up to your clit. Agonizingly slow circles traced over the sensitive bud, Anakin was barely touching you. Using no pressure at all as he teased you.

“Ani.” You groaned, hand coming up to his hair, pulling him farther into your neck.

“Shhh, so needy aren’t you?” He whispered, tongue laving over his bite mark. “Need Ani’s help don’t you baby?”

“Uh huh!” You nodded, feeling him add a tiny bit of pressure behind his torturous touch.

“Dirty girl. Asking for my fingers right outside my work.” He tutted, patronizing you.

Withdrawing his touch from you completely, elastic snapping back into place. He chuckled at your whines of protest, enjoying how much you wanted him. He swatted your cunt as punishment, just hard enough to startle you.

“Enough.” He growled, bringing his slick covered finger to your lips and pushing it into your mouth, watching you eagerly clean your arousal off him.

“There we go,” he smiled, brushing your loose hairs back over your shoulder, “don’t pout babydoll, I’ll make it all better when I get home.”

He kissed the tip of your button nose, making a quick exit from the car before his resolve crumbled at the look of disappointment staining your face.

Your bottom lip protruding as you backed out of your parking space, thinking over your mostly one sided conversation. Anakin hardly ever told you no, the sting of rejection pricked your eyes but you quickly snuffed it out.

Your Anakin would never be mean to you, so this just must’ve been a new game he’d decided to play. Truth be told it was alittle exciting thinking back on it, how deliciously dirty you felt with his hand between your legs out in there, where anyone could’ve walked by.

You liked how it felt when he talked down to you, it felt right, so, so, right.

Anakin had always been your guiding light. Your most trusted confidant, your caretaker. He catered to your every need and desire, doting on you with unwavering adoration. Always going above and beyond to show you how much he cared, telling you how proud he was of you, how much he loved you.

For wether he realized it or not, you ruled over him. When he placed you on that golden pedestal he signed over his rights, willingly albeit unconsciously, dedicating himself to you. Your power over him was unparalleled, his soul wrapped around your little finger.

After being subservient to you for so long, it was his turn to rule over you. He couldn’t let you get away with everything, now could he?

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