#he's already a savage... but with those... oh man

[6blackfilin9]

i've noticed they'd given my man Shifu those lovely little fangs in Secrets of the scroll.... so i've used it as an opportunity to have a lil rest from studying

and

you know i see why they didn't give him those canines in the movies

[swallowtail-ageha]

*video by a self proclaimed historian archeology with mary on a cross dramatic beat in the background fake crying hand on mouth in instagram reels* here is a funeral epigraphy of this young roman lady who got murdered by her husband! People especially men were such beasts right then and haven't changed much! *shows epigraphy where parents of murdered girl both father and mother denounce their daughter's murder as something abominable and either way Very Much Not Uncaring of the girls fate*

[hypnagogics]

how soon is now? | part one

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

teasers: one. two. series masterlist. next part here!!

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: listen, i know this timeline is kind of ridiculous, but i’ve organized it all best as i can! this is the expanded story based on those first little blurbs introducing the au (reads fine on its own though), and this part specifically was originally going to be one huge fic, but i've ultimately decided to split it up and drop the first part now, because i feel like it ends in a convenient enough space where i can make a separation not so jarring. so that means this will have a direct continuation (how soon is now? 2 ? lol this is so stupid-), and that will be posted soon enough once i finish it! but yes that means after so much waiting, it's finally here for y’all. i literally thought up this silly idea right before i passed out on new years, and never expected y’all to love it so much…but i keep my promises, so here. also love the smiths and felt the title sort of fit. i feel like not too much happens but eh anyway, thank you for waiting, thank you for reading, and please enjoy!

♧:4.6k word count

◇:suggestive but not explicit - horny descriptions and tension, however no smut (for now?….BUT DON'T HOLD ME TO THAT.) no descriptions of reader’s physical appearance, no use of “y/n”, slow-burn construction and loooooads of pining, a lot of build up but stay with me, attempts at occasional foreshadowing, smau elements(text messages lmao), savage starlight is a plot point lol, hallwaycrush!ellie is sort of a mix of loser/modern/university au/dorky-ish ellie I DON'T EVEN KNOW. abby is your bestie, girl what else do i put here- this is just kinda plot, plot, and more plot progression about the whole ordeal, and me indulging my obsession with modern!ellie. (lmk if there's anything to be added!)

“Abbyyyyyyyyyy.” 

You rolled around your lifelong best friend’s bed, babbling her ear off while she studied away at her desk, or tried to at least. This situation has been a daily occurrence for weeks at this point.

Laying on your stomach facing away from her, you could hear her scoff in annoyance. “What?” “Please give me some advice..I don't know what I'm even supposed to do. She's driving me up the wall." This crush was the sole thing occupying your poor mind, so naturally, you had to drown your bestie with your troubles as well. That's what friends do. Abby spun around on her chair to face you, with a clearly fed up expression on her face, and leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. 

“Well I don’t fucking know man, I’ve already given you my best advice, and that's either introduce yourself, or suffer.” She said coolly. You sat up and groaned. Wasn't there an easier way? One that didn't involve actually taking initiative and doing something? Maybe, hypothetically, you ace a test, and the professor announces it in front of everyone as he emotionally congratulates his star student, and she bounds over, beaming. Then tearfully confesses her love and admiration for you- hold on, where the fuck is this going?

“Oh come on, you know I can’t do that..” You gulped a burning bundle of anxiety down as you replayed the scenarios with your obsession for the thousandth time that day, the mere crumbs you were forced to fixate on until you saw her next, the first sighting that started this whole fiasco,  and shook your head to clear it and listen to what your best friend had to say. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, slamming her textbook shut and making her way over to sit next to you.

“Listen babe, I love you, but you really gotta get ahold of yourself, alright?” She spoke sternly, looking you straight in the eyes to make sure you understood and absorbed every last word she said. “Listen, here's what you're gonna do. when you pass her in the hall, smile, it's simple but it's a classic, okay? And then you listen to the lecturer as normal, right? I have no idea what you nerds do in astrophysics, but that's besides my point. Make sure to pay attention and not stare only at her like a stalker or something, I cannot stress enough how normal you gotta be. But here's where it gets good, you still with me?” 

You're listening to her for sure, and nod vigorously. Crystal clear. She continues, “Okay you said you sit as far as possible from her? Sheesh, why'd you do that? When the class is over I want you to go over to her, and introduce yourself. Catch her on her way out, tap her on the shoulder if you're feeling bold. Ask for some of her contact details, play it cool. Just don't shit yourself, got it? All you gotta do." 

Abby finishes her speech, smirking and looking smug. She's positive she got through to you this time. On the surface you're totally chill, confident even, ready to snatch this ethereal being for yourself, however underneath all that you knew you didn't have an ounce of the courage that was required for this seemingly impossible task. 

Breathing deeply to calm yourself and try to take in her helpful words as best as possible, you give Abby a hug. “Thank you Abs, really. I'll do my best. Oh, but what if I freak out and start stuttering- or what if I trip and fall on her…I can't do this what the hell.” Swarmed with worry, you start doubting yourself yet again. Burying your face in your palms, you feel two strong hands on either side of your upper arms and you look back at Abby, who's really not playing around anymore. 

She was so serious about this it almost scared you. Either she cared about you more than anything, or she wanted to hear the end of these pathetic, lovestruck rambles. You prayed it was the former. 

“Suck it up. You can do this. You've had crushes before haven't you? This should be a piece of cake c’mon, I believe in you. Make sure to keep me updated every step of the way! I need to hear every last detail.” She lightens up at the end and releases you from her grip once she sees you've relaxed. 

Unsurprisingly, your best friend always knew what to say to snap you out of your spirals. Maybe most would disagree with her methods, say she was being rough, but they worked for you. Heart rate returning to a normal pace, you reply genuinely. 

“Okay, okay I got this. Yeah, it'll be fine.” She was getting through to you, this time you felt sure of it. “Good, good. Now will you let me finish this stupid assignment? Then we can watch something or do whatever." Abby chatted as she got up and sat back at her desk, resuming her studious endeavor as she left you with your thoughts. 

Immediately you heard her mutter, “All this and you don't even know her goddamn name…good grief.” For the sake of preserving the peace you chose to graciously ignore that one. She said she wanted some quiet, didn't she? 

Drifting away into a sea of daydreams, your thoughts inevitably returned to being clouded by this cryptic figure. It was like she'd cast a love spell on you. Did she even know who you were? Or did she shoot everyone those insufferably charming looks of hers. Was she even aware of how fucking cool she was? 

Dressed in that deliciously grungy style, you yearned to know what floated behind her greener-than-grass eyes. Her hair looked so smooth and soft, the wispy auburnette strands framing her refined features, intriguing fern tattoo decorating her lean forearm…. You felt your cheeks begin to heat up as a portrait of her materialized in your mind's eye. Nestling into the comfortable atmosphere of your best friend's room, you sunk deeper into your thoughts.

Like Abby had mentioned, it certainly wasn't as if you've never had crushes before, you've certainly had your fair share of them, like most people. But that was a sort of flaky, surface level interest, whether it be for their looks, their little quirks, or ways they treated you. Maybe it has been a while since you'd had a proper crush, but you couldn't recall a time when the infatuation, the pure limerence, had hit you this hard before. You almost felt helpless, just besotted by her.

You simply needed to act on this. Right then and there you steeled yourself, and decided you were going to follow Abby's advice after all, and go after this hallway crush. Worst comes to worst, she turns you down, you get over it eventually, bla bla end of story. It wasn't going to be too complicated, right?

You and Abby had stayed up all night, dusk till dawn, gossiping about things other than your hallway crush, shocking, and you were greatly regretting that decision the very moment it was time to gather your books and get to class.

You really did not feel like stunning everyone around you with a gorgeous outfit today, you were just trying to make it through the day in one piece to be honest with yourself. 

With a pounding headache you threw on some mismatched sweats, and ran out the door to be on time. Your bag felt unreasonably heavy as you made your way down your apartment stairs, and you cursed your past self for choosing a building without an elevator. Sure, exercise is healthy, but it can’t be when you’re feeling like a zombie, and wish for nothing more than a good, long nap.

Luckily the lecture hall was a comfortable distance away from your place, not far enough to make it a pain, but enough so you could get a much needed breath of fresh air. The tiredness had pushed all plans of action you and Abby had discussed the previous night to the back of your head, and you weren't thinking of your crush at all. At least for now. 

Walking slowly with your gaze pointed downward, you eventually made it to the hall. Completely dazed and zoned out, you made a mental note to never pull an all nighter again, gross, who’s idea was that- thump. 

Out of nowhere you're rudely jolted from your silent sulking by colliding with something, or someone? It takes a moment to register what happened, and you quickly look up from staring at the ground to sort the situation out. “Oh my gosh I am so sorry..” 

Profusely apologizing while simultaneously being smacked across the face with the realization of who this was. Her. Your words trail off as you’re suddenly winded, and you feel your blood run cold. You’re transfixed by the intense eye contact, and it feels like time has stopped. Goodness, this is dramatic. 

In the time it takes for you to briefly die and come back to life, the young woman has lowered her chunky headphones so they rest around her neck, Morissey’s vocals faintly floating out of them, and is looking at your stunned state with an indiscernible sneer playing on her face. Was this actually happening? Holy shit you and Abby did not discuss this scenario…you weren’t looking where you were going and had collided with an actual Earth angel. Great.

Still gawking at her like an absolute buffoon, akin to a deer in headlights, she breaks the tension first, with a smooth voice that you would obey virtually any command for. 

“Nah, you’re good.” And a wink. Your heart skipped a beat, or four, when you witnessed her wink at you. Did you imagine it? Was she being suave on purpose or did she have an eyelash in her eye…Was your life a literal rom-com or what? 

“Um..” Your mouth opens and closes in an attempt to form a coherent sentence, but your brain is much too fried to do so because, well, you had just made physical contact with the literal girl of your dreams. And gods did she smell good…while you’re unable to tear your eyes away from hers, she keeps talking as if nothing happened.

“I think the prof had an emergency or fuckin’, I dunno.” She stops to gesture around the two of you at the crowd that had formed in front of the auditorium’s double doors with elegant, ring adorned fingers..holy fuck you needed those inside you right fucking now- WHAT. 

Briskly shoving those thoughts down to the deepest depths of your subconscious back to where they belong, you turned your attention back to her, and put on a brave front. Hyper aware of how searing hot your face felt, her pretty self didn't show a hint of caring that you were making a fool of yourself. They say that any situation is always worse in your head than it was in actuality, well you hoped so. 

“So, what are we supposed to do now?” Clearing your throat you managed a sentence back, hooray. You were doing this. Good job. Although, of course, before the gorgeous nymph before you had a chance to respond with her own assumptions, a substitute lecturer you had never seen before pushes his way through the crowd and unlocks the door while people file in, separating you from her. You felt like Rose, viciously torn away from Jack from Titanic, what a cruel, cruel world this was.

And once again you didn't get to ask her name. Re-slinging her bag with one arm, she looks back at you one final time and throws you a “cya around.” Before disappearing into the auditorium with everyone else. You meekly nod at her and force a lopsided smile, before leaning against the wall to steady yourself after that fiasco in the now empty hallway.

Wasting virtually not a moment of time, you pulled your phone out and began furiously texting Abby with a recount of the events at a speed faster than the speed of light. 

Once that excruciatingly torturous class was over, you applauded yourself for containing the stares in her direction and keeping your eyes fixated on the professor. Whether you actually retained any information, now that was a different story. Picking up your bags and laptop, you stay behind for a moment as everyone else files out, no need to crowd and suffocate amongst the other students, and you had nowhere to be except catch up on your favorite shows and relax all by yourself. 

Filing out the auditorium with everyone else, you see a familiar face pass by you, and vaguely hear Abby’s voice in your head urging you to seize the moment. Now’s your chance, go! And so you gather every little bit of strength you possess to do just that. 

After a couple deep breaths you jog up to her. “Uh, hey.” She turns around and gives you a warm smile, making your legs instantly turn to jelly. You subtly checked her out and took in her outfit, another bulky jacket and lightly distressed jeans. Fingers studded with layered silver rings, and those big ole headphones seemed to be magnetically attached to her, she always had them on her. Note to self: ask for some music recommendations.

She was even hotter up close…with a beautiful galaxy of freckles scattered across her fair skin, you wanted to place a kiss on every single of them. “I, um, never caught your name.” “It's Ellie.” She sticks out her hand for a handshake and you accepted it, you finally had a name to the face you've been pining over so intensely for so long. Abby was going to lose it once you tell her about this. You steady your voice and hide the glee that was likely evident from this interaction going so smoothly, and introduce yourself to her as well.

After some time of idle chit chat and standing there, neither one of you knowing really what to say, Ellie pipes up, facepalming, tsking, and furrowing her brows. “Oh yeah, I don’t mean to spring this on you outta nowhere, but would you wanna study sometime?” She flushes a dusty pink, “I don't know anyone else taking this course and am having kind of a hard time with it...when I chose it, I expected it to be more about space and the planets, and less about numbers and math, my head hurts.”

Her demeanor was making you feel rather comfortable with her, even though the two of you had just formally met a few minutes prior. “I would love to, yeah!” Maybe you were being a little too enthusiastic, but at this point you were operating on pure instinct and not thinking critically of what was coming out of your mouth. “I actually don't have any plans now, or today at all, so if you want to, we can get a head start before the next class?” Well that just slipped out. Go you, blurting things out. 

You had no idea why you'd said that because your place was an absolute mess, clothes strewn everywhere, trash can still full, you'd been too preoccupied with your studies, and well her, to do much about it. To your horror, Ellie exclaims, “Hey, that's perfect! I don't have anything to do right now either, and it would be good to act on it while it's still fresh in my mind, y’know?” Her face morphs into an adorable toothy grin as she taps on her skull comically, you were becoming more obsessed by the second, if that was even possible.

Every little sliver of her personality you got to see under the stoic one you had assumed she had just grasped at your heartstrings. You smiled back at her so hard you almost pulled a muscle in your cheeks, “Awesome! Follow me, then, my dorm isn't far.”

The walk there was mostly fine as the two of you made it to your place, Ellie occasionally making comments about how she hates the class even though she adores outer space and learning about it on her own time, and you were nodding and acting as if you're listening, agreeing with her robotically while she rambled away and you daydreamed about what her lush lips would feel like on yours. You wondered if she was gentle with it, or if she’d kiss you hungrily, devour you like her very last meal….gulp.

Leading her to your place was an automatic task, not much navigation needed, and when the journey was done you had to legitimately stop short for a moment in an attempt to soothe the pounding in your chest. 

The crush that has plagued your mind for ages, who you've just met formally today, was about to be in your room. The two of you were about to be alone. That was totally fine, yeah, she can't be a murderer…..right?

“You good?” She asked sweetly, why did she have to be so nice, “Those stairs were killer, I totally get it, phew.” “Oh for sure, gets me every time.” Covering up your panic smoothly, you unlocked the door and went inside with her. When she walked inside, Ellie took a glance around your room and set herself down at the edge of your bed, immediately making herself comfortable, while you still lingered in the doorway, awkwardly swaying and staring at her, unsure of what to do with yourself. 

Suddenly you had completely forgotten why she was here in the first place. “No way, you read Savage Starlight too???” She spotted the figurine on your desk and snatched it up in her hands to inspect it thoroughly, with a childlike wonder in her eyes. “Wow, this one was a limited edition and it sold out in like an hour, I'm so jealous you got this!! How much you want for it, I'm serious.” She was so excited, and you couldn't believe it. Savage Starlight has always been one of your favorite comics ever, you've loved it since you were a young teen, and now this seemingly perfect human before you, who you're hopelessly obsessed with says she loves it too? Could she get any more flawless, is all you could wonder.

Her happiness because of this little thing you two bonded over was infectious, and some of your nerves slowly began to go away.  Grinning genuinely, you sheepishly said, “I've never met anyone else who likes it, that story has helped me through lots of phases in my life, and Daniela was my gay awakening.” Ellie gaped at you for a beat, making you almost doubt revealing that information.

“No. Fuckin’. Way. Mine too! Her suit was just- damn. And those action scenes in the third volume had my thirteen year old self’s brain just mush for, I don't even know for how long. This is crazy, I can already see we’re gonna get along so well.”

You wanted to talk to her about everything and anything forever, and her glee made you want to squish her, but there was unfortunately work to be done first. “There’s so much we have to discuss, but we gotta get some studying done first if we wanna make it out of this course alive.”

You were sitting at your desk, hunched over the sprawled out textbooks and messy notes, as you drew the graphs and talked to her about the concepts she was struggling with. Your desk was so small and you only had one chair, and you were the one using it, so Ellie was forced to hover over you to see all you were doing.

Focusing solely on the subject before you was proving to be more difficult as studying time went by, because you were a little too aware of the way she had caged you in against the desk to watch, her oversized shirt grazing your upper back. You gripped your pen ever so tightly to minimize any trembling, and kept a steady voice as best you could while explaining it all.

She was so, so close, the tension in the tiny room was palpable, she didn't seem to notice your nervous tremors or the proximity she’d created, and the low murmurs of, “ohhh, mhm, yeah,” as you embarrassingly stammered over your explanations made you flushed and to be frank, needy. You could feel her warmth radiating off of her, could faintly hear her breathing just above you. You didn't dare move a muscle. Was she feeling this too?

At this point you swore the delicious gravelly vibrations from her voice this close to you would be plenty enough to make you cream your pants. The air in the enclosed space was getting hotter and thicker by every passing moment, it took everything you had to keep yourself from losing your mind right now. If you moved back a petty few inches, you’d be pressed flush with her front. What would that be like, you wondered. Oh, no. Your throat felt drier than the desert when you swallowed, the thought of that making you weak.

Since your focus on the work was lapsing, you were beginning to make some little mistakes and blunders, compelling her to take the pen right from your hand and fix them herself. “No, no, this one’s supposed to be like this instead, see? Then you're able to get the right answer which is…” She stretches over you further, you nearly whined, someone save you, and grabs the textbook to review the solution. “Like this, yeah, I was right. Honest mistake though, don’t worry about it.”

You nod your head and make a pathetic murmur of approval, ignoring the fiery tingles spreading all the way up your arm when her hand bumps yours to return the writing utensil, and the blistering coil of want forming in your stomach. This all had to be deliberate, right? She couldn't lack that much spatial awareness, could she? Well, it wasn’t that you minded, she could get as close as she damn wanted to, you'd let her throw you around like a ragdoll even- you were just afraid your heart was going to give out if she kept it up. “Could you show me this work you guys did? Of course the one day I'm late, the prof talks about something new and I miss it.” 

What feels like an eternity later, you hear her groan above you and she returns to her earlier spot on your bed. You can finally breathe properly. Glancing at the clock, your own headache begins to set in. Crap it was late, how time flies. 

“We’ve been studying for so long, it’s getting late.” “Shit, you’re right, I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome. Sorry about that, and hey, thanks for this. I understand it all a lot better now, see you tomorrow.”

She stands up abruptly and ushers herself out of your door in a flash, to which you clumsily stand up, knock your chair over, and hastily run after her, not wanting her to go just yet. “Wait, Ellie!” “What's up, did I forget something?”

She pats her pockets and looks at you with concern. Round puppy dog eyes, and lips in a miniscule pout, so cute. You were in front of her now, but did not process what you actually wanted to say. Just ran after her like the smitten nincompoop you are. Upon feeling your face go hot, you look at the ground to mutter, “Uh- nothing. See you later.” Realistically, what were you planning on saying, or doing?

After stumbling over your words you two finally part ways and you slump down against your door, missing her presence already. You simultaneously wanted to jump around or open your bedside table drawer to release the energy you'd accumulated, and wanted to fall into the deepest sleep of your life to recuperate from the experience. This was just, a lot. You wanted to scream and screech like there's no tomorrow, but did not want to deal with noise complaints from the others living on your floor. Gosh she was so close, she shares your niche interest, your hands touched, albeit accidentally, lo and behold you were in love with her.

Maybe it was early to call it that, but you were going to plan out your future together. Preferably a quaint, peaceful farmhouse, the one you two lovebirds renovated together exactly how you envisioned, where you could ogle her doing the farmwork. Ugh. Cook all her favorite meals, make sweet, sweet love under the moonlight. Take strolls through the flower gardens you two planted, receive her curated bouquets as gifts, you two are going to have such a tender, domestic life. 

You had to mull it over some more, and didn’t dare wish to forget how close she was to you, you were still buzzing from her essence. You were pointlessly pacing around your room now, unable to stop looping the study session's events in your head. The simplicity, the eroticism of the encounter. One-sided or not, you had yet to find out more about her, the impatience was going to take over. The day almost seemed too good to be true, but for now you had to force yourself to relax and think about something other than her. Time to browse Pinterest with striking kitchen ideas for your beautiful future. 

What were you going to say to her the next time you see her? You were eager to know how, or if at all, this new friendship was going to progress. Part of you was dying of impatience, but the rest of you wanted to take it all as slow as possible, savoring every little moment and making the most of it. 

You sighed, this was going to be a long, long, year.

lovely taggies: @amiorca @mostlyhornyandsad @lasting-lover @radioheadfan699 @sophie-thefrog8 @machetegirl109 @ellieschair @aouiaa @wavesgocrash @tangerinngi @elliesbitchvenus @dinaissoprettyoml @rxreaqia @camicocom1a @elliesexual @ellslvr @boobdrug @writing-on-a-bathroom-stall @bready101 @yourelliewillms

.......really hoping this doesn't flop because it isn't smutty, yall wanted more fics that are plot soooo

[mustainegf]

idk if you did that already but imagine Dave getting a call and answering it while he's fucking you 🤭

Dave would SO do this

𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 ¹⁹⁹⁶

I'm lying sprawled on the king sized bed, my body slick with sweat, as Dave pounds into me relentlessly. His fingers dig cruelly into my hips, yanking me onto him with every savage thrust. The headboard pounds against the wall with every impact, the sound reverberating around the luxurious suite.

"Fuck yes, take it," Dave growls. His voice is husky with lust. "Your tight little cunt was made for my cock."

I groan loudly, my back arching high as he hits that perfect spot deep inside me. My nails rake down his back, leaving trails of red in their path. "Harder, please!" I beg shamelessly, wanting more of his dominant passion.

The pleasure builds within me, an unstoppable wave cresting higher with every punishing stroke. My body screams out from every nerve ending for its release. My pussy clenches around Dave's throbbing member, desperate for more friction.

Dave grunts. His rhythm becomes erratic as he nears his own climax. "Shit...you're gonna make me cum," he pants heavily between pumps. His pace quickens, driving deeper than ever before.

The shrill ring of the hotel room phone suddenly cuts through the air, jolting us both. "Fuck, who could that be?" Dave curses under his breath, not breaking his beat but toward the bedside table where the ringing phone is.

It doesn't faze Dave in the least. He keeps pounding into me, focusing only on our carnal dance. But a thought lingers in my mind as to who could be so insensitive as to interrupt such an intimate moment.

"Answer it," I gasp out between moans, hoping it might get over quickly and we could be back in our world of pleasure.

Dave lets out an irritated grunt and leans over to snatch up the receiver in one smooth motion. "Yeah? What do ya want?" he barks into the phone. I could vaguely hear the voice on the other end. It's Nick.

But he doesn't stop, keeps his consistent rhythm, thick shaft still stretching me open with every strong shove. The juxtaposition of his casual tone into the phone and his movements sends tingles down my back.

"Nah man, just busy breaking in some new gear," Dave chuckles, referring to me in such a crass manner.

His hand shifts from my hip to awkwardly cup one of my breasts and squeeze the soft flesh.

I throw my head back and whimper, feeling every inch of Dave reach and rub into me. "Fuck yeah...don't stop," I plead in a breathless voice into his ear, making sure to be quiet enough not to be picked up by the receiver of the phone.

Dave smirks at my needy pleas, seeming quite satisfied with the degree to which he has worked me up. "L'right, l'right, gotta go, see you tonight," he dismisses into the phone before hanging up abruptly.

He flings the receiver aside and reaches between my legs, pushing them upward and backward toward my shoulders. This angle allows him to sink even deeper, to hit that sweet spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.

"Now, where were we?" Dave grins wickedly, picking up his relentless pace once more.

This change in position heightens all those sensations racing through my body. Every thrust now was harder, deeper, sending spikes of pleasure radiating from my warm core.

With Dave pounding into me, I wrap my arms around myself and hold tight onto my breasts, pinching at my nipples to add to the already overwhelming pleasure.

"Oh fuck.yes! Just like that." I moan, loud, despite trying to keep quiet just a while earlier.

Dave suddenly pulls out, his hot seed erupting in thick ropes across my chest and abdomen in sticky white stripes. I whine at the sudden emptiness as my walls clench fruitlessly while he paints me white with his cum.

"Look at you... lookin' so damn sexy covered in my cum," Dave mutters appreciatively, slowing his movements down to relish the sight before him.

I lie there, puffing heavily, utterly exhausted from our frenzied sex. The semen that is cooling on my skin is so lewd and deliciously dirty.

Dave leans down, his lips capturing mine in a burning kiss as he trails his mouth along my jawline and into the hollow of my neck. He nips and sucks at the tender skin, probably leaving his mark.

"You took my cock so well, baby," he praises huskily, his hands roaming possessively over my curves. "Such a good girl for me."

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 5

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, house fire, perilous situations, angst, hurt/comfort 

Part 5: “Twitterpated”

“Hey there, beautiful,” Dean said.

His voice alone was enough to cause a shiver tingling down your spine.

You couldn’t help but giggle as he once again drew you into a kiss. He held you close by the waist. Feeling his hands spanning your lower back was doing things to you, but you knew you had to keep a level head here.

“Dean,” you said. Your lips curved against his. “We’ve said hello about three times now.”

“Wanna make it four?” he suggested. His voice was deep as sin.

Damn this man, you thought. He was a professional flirt.

But you laughed, and he smirked at the sound. He resisted letting you go when you playfully tried to pull away. The two of you were standing in the middle of your small office, in front of your desk at work. A large bag of takeout was perched on your desk, but neither of you cared about food just yet.

Dean liked the look of you in your navy blouse, tucked into a trim pair of pants, down to your smart heels.

“Tell me you didn’t go up all 20-something flights of stairs in those daggers you got on,” he remarked.

You followed his gaze down to your heels.

“Oh no,” you said. “I’ve got a backup pair of sneakers that I came to work in. Then I slip these on behind my desk. No one’s the wiser.”

Dean enjoyed that playful little smirk you gave him. He still couldn’t believe you’d walked all those stairs, but he guessed he couldn’t begrudge you for your lingering fear of elevators.

“Yeah? What else do you get up to behind that desk? Besides work, that is,” he teased. You guffawed and playfully hit his arm.

He chuckled and finally released you. You’d already dragged a spare chair next to yours behind your desk, so he began helping you unearth the various containers in the bag he brought. All the while, he surreptitiously took an inventory of your office.

It was all very neat and organized, just like you. You had a large window right behind you, which let in some much-needed natural light. There were tile floors, like the rest of the building, but while your desk was an old wood, clunky thing, you had a double monitor setup with an organized file system on either side.

As you pushed things aside and made room for the food, Dean noted the way stray pieces of hair fell from your clip, framing your face. He itched to take that clip out and make that hair wild, maybe even wrapping it around his hand.

Instead, he reached out and tucked a few strands behind your ear. It earned your attention with a soft blush.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothin’,” he grinned. He was treated to one of your shy smiles as you continued in your task.

Soon you and Dean were once again sharing good food and conversation. You explained what you did for work, being a Senior Sales Representative at Savage & Co. He listened, offering interjections here and there: gems like, Josh sounds like a fucking idiot. And, so does your boss. You couldn’t disagree.

In the back of your mind, it was still a bit strange for Dean to be in your office. It felt rather intimate for a second date, but you supposed coming to your place of work wasn’t so new to him.

“You sure are killing that chicken,” Dean remarked, as he watched you carve into a large drumstick with fork and knife. He shot you a teasing smile. “You know it’s already dead, right?”   

You gave him a dry look, despite your amusement. “I’m starving! All I’ve had today is a cup of coffee.” 

He frowned at that. “What, you can’t take a break for an egg McMuffin?”

“Ha!” you cracked, and took a sip of lemonade. “There are no breaks around here.”

Dean hummed, though you could see he didn’t like it.

“You sound like Sam,” he said.

“Oh, your brother?”

“Yeah, Mr. District Attorney,” Dean said in a mocking voice. But his smile betrayed his fondness, and his pride for his younger brother’s accomplishments.

You remembered then that Dean’s father was a police officer as well—a real life homicide detective! You ruminated on that when you and Dean moved on to dessert. You had a scoop of frozen yogurt, while he started to dig into a slice of blueberry pie.

“You know, it’s amazing to me that your entire family went into public service, from all angles,” you said. “It’s impressive…and really noble, actually.”

Dean offered you a quirk of a smile. It told you he wasn’t typically one to be comfortable with praise, as he carded a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well. It’s a living,” was all he said.

You shook your head with a smile. His humility seemed genuine, and you found it endearing as hell.

“And you’re the eldest, right?” you asked. Dean nodded around a mouthful of pie. He set down the little tray between you for a moment.

“Yeah, though you wouldn’t know it looking at my brother. Around sixteen, he shot up like a damn weed. Friggin’ gigantor.”

You giggled at the image. Now you were truly intrigued, and hoped to meet both Sam and Dean’s father in the future. Though for right now, you glanced down at the slice of pie resting between you, all glossy blueberry filling and flaky crust.

You raised your cup of frozen yogurt to him. “Wanna try a bit of this, so I can try a bit of that?”

You went for a piece of pie with your fork, but Dean snatched the tray out of reach. He eyed you with a bit of admonishment.

“Hey, now. I got you your fake ice cream or whatever,” he said. You rose brow at him, both incredulous and amused.

“What, you won’t share with me?” you asked.

A smile twitched at his lips, but he stayed firm.

“Sweetheart, I’ll get you whatever you want, but here’s where I draw the line.”

You laughed in disbelief. But then an idea made your smile slide into flirtation. You set your dessert aside and rolled your chair closer to his. Dean watched you as your hand slid up his arm, and your pretty eyes met his.

“Okay, what if I make it worth your while?” you posed.

He tilted his head. His hand found the curve of your waist and slid around, bringing you even closer.

“Oh, yeah?” he challenged. “If you really want my pie, that’s gotta be damn worth it.”

Another giggle bubbled in your throat, but you continued to play your part.

“I have a few ideas,” you said. Your fingers drew a path down his chest, over the soft gray Henley he wore. You could feel the warmth of his skin underneath, and the firmness of his body. His grip on your waist tightened a fraction.   

And he smirked. “Tell me…”

Your lips were a whisper from his. He smelled like spicy cologne and blueberries. Two of his fingers came to brush your hair away from your cheek…

But as usual, your boss had the absolute worst timing. The sound of your office door opening was like a gunshot ringing through the room, making you and Dean separate from one another with a jolt.

Nick Savage strode in without knocking, as he was wont to do. (No matter how many times you asked him not to.)

“Hey, what’s your progress on the Greenway account…oh,” said Nick, pausing where he stood.

He took note of Dean in the room and straightened his posture. His expression changed from its lazy gait, to a more tightened one. You swore you could spot a tinge of annoyance as well, like he was surprised that he hadn’t caught you alone in your office.

“I see I’m interrupting,” he said.

Holding in a sigh, you looked over at Dean and found him similarly assessing Nick.

“This is Dean. You might remember him from last week, when the elevator broke down. He’s one of the firefighters who got me out,” you said. Your hand fell on your companion’s arm. “Dean, this is—”

“Her boss,” Nick said. He seemed to lighten up and give Dean a smile, reaching over to shake the man’s hand. Dean obliged him.

“So I’ve heard,” he said. His tone was pleasant enough, but still more reserved.

Nick purposefully shifted his attention back to you.

“Report? Greenway account?” he repeated.

Your lips firmed into a line, though you slipped back into the professional patience you had to maintain at all times with this man.

“I’m still on my break, but I’ll have the report to you by end-of-day,” you said.

Nick tsked at you with a shrug. “How’re you gonna get that account locked down if you’re not trying to conference with Mr. Greenway? He’s headed to China in two hours.”

You had to reign in an annoyed tick in your brow. But you didn’t notice how Dean was watching the exchange between you and your boss with a thinly veiled frown.

“I’ve called three times, Nick. He’ll get back to me.”

“Hmm. I wonder if Josh is taking that same approach,” Nick wondered with mocking sincerity. “I’ll go ask him.”

He finally turned to leave, though he stopped short, giving Dean a lazy salute. “Nice to meet you…”

“Dean,” he reminded. 

“Right.” Nick slid a pointed finger your way. “Greenway. 2:00 p.m.”

You were silently simmering by the time your office door closed behind him. 

“Well, he’s a delight,” Dean remarked.  

“He’s a dick,” you huffed and tossed your napkin down. But you grabbed your desk phone to make a quick call—to Mr. Greenway.

Dean frowned, but he covered it up by wiping his mouth with a napkin, subtly clearing his throat.

“I should head out then, let you get back to work,” he said. 

His words made you pause. You had a reply ready on your tongue, that his suggestion was probably for the best.

But then you actually looked into his eyes. Guilt prickled in your chest as you realized what you were doing. Not only were you letting Nick get under your skin again, but here was a man who’d brought you lunch. Who was willing to sit in an uncomfortable chair to spend some time with you, and you were about to brush him off.

You hung up the phone without dialing. 

“No. I’m sorry. Stay, please,” you told him, and grabbed his arm to keep him in his seat. You pushed your desk phone away with your spare hand and gave Dean your full attention, along with a smile.

“Where were we?” you asked.

Finally, Dean’s reserved expression eased as he relaxed in his chair, and subtly leaned towards you. He thumbed at your cheek with a smirk.

“I don’t know, something about making it worth my while.”

You bit your lip on a deeper smile.

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. You crossed the ever-closing distance to give Dean a proper kiss. Your hand found his cheek, and your thumb brushed back and forth across the stubble there. You tasted sweet, sweet pie on his lips. 

Even after you parted softly, Dean went back in for a second taste of you. This time it was deeper, as he angled into the kiss. He once again brought you close, just shy of dragging you into his lap.

His hand reached behind your head and succeeded in taking the clip out of your hair. He tossed it on your desk and sunk his hand into the soft strands while his lips continued to devour yours.

It was a small move, but you found it both soothing and exhilarating. You shuddered when you felt his fingers brush the back of your neck. It had you contemplating locking the door of your office and forgoing the rest of lunch…but your mind was competing with your heart, warning you to be cautious. To protect yourself. 

Really, you’d just met Dean. You had no idea what to expect here, even though your heart was tripping up over his slightest touch.

Still, your face was warm when you eventually parted from him. You chanced meeting his eyes, and you blushed further at what you saw.

The truth was, Dean had been contemplating laying you out flat across your desk. But he tried his best to keep it down to a simmer behind his eyes, a bright and gleaming green.

“Worth it?” you asked. Your voice was a mere whisper, despite your smile.

He returned it, and gave you one last kiss.

“So worth it,” he said. 

Dean wasn’t sure he liked this.

The start of his shift was usually the time for him to be relaxed, but focused. He knew who he was and what he needed to do when he entered the firehouse. It was his second home, perhaps even the place where he felt most comfortable.

And yet, he nearly burnt his hand while pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Shit,” he muttered. He jolted and hopped back a step as scalding brown liquid splashed between his feet. It had Benny and Meg looking over from the common room, where they sat at the dining table.

Dean looked at the mess he created and tried not to sigh. He wasn’t awake enough for this…or maybe, he didn’t want to admit that he’d been thinking about you.

Your smile, your eyes, your voice, your occasional shyness, versus the way you dealt with your boss like a pro. Your confidence that was damn sexy, and had Dean imagining what you’d be like taking his orders, or giving them right back, shoving him down into a seat, straddling his thighs, his hands hiking up your skirt…

Dean shook his head a bit sharply to try and clear it.

He circled into the kitchen in need of a paper towel. But he bumped right into Jack, who was making breakfast. It sent the salt canister flying out of his hand and dumping into the pan of eggs.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry,” Dean said. He really did sigh this time. Now they’d have to wait even longer for breakfast.

“Uh, it’s okay. I can save it,” Jack said, though his brows were furrowed as he contemplated just how he was going to do that. He took a wooden spoon and tried to scoop out the mound of salt on the still-sizzling eggs.

Meanwhile, Dean’s lips pursed as he went over to grab a few paper towels. Once the mess by the coffeemaker was clean, he poured himself a tall cup and took a seat between his friends. Benny shot him a glance as he sipped at his own mug.

“You all right, brother?” Benny asked.

“Just fine,” Dean replied. He tried to sound breezy, but neither Benny or Meg bought it. She eyed him with a smirk.

“Heard you went on a date the other night,” she said. “A real one, with chocolates and flowers and all that shit.”

Dean shot her a sharper frown. “Who the hell told…oh. Perfect. Goddamn it, Cas.”

He should’ve known that big-mouth bastard couldn’t be trusted.

“Nope,” Meg said. Her eyes were dancing mischievously, and Dean knew he was in for it this morning. “Your little girlfriend is best friends with my cousin.”

She tossed a sly look at Benny. “You remember Andréa. You two were sucking face hardcore the other night. And giving quite a show to the local pedestrians. Have you called her yet, by the way?”

Benny cleared his throat, but he looked both unrepentant and tight-lipped about his business as he stayed sipping his coffee. Dean shot him a smirk. Until Meg directed her cutting gaze back to him.

“And you,” she said, just as slyly. “Dating your own damsel in distress. How fucking predictable.”

Dean’s lips firmed into a line, while Benny’s brows shot up.

“You really went for it with Elevator Girl?” he remarked in surprise. “I saw you two talkin’, but didn’t think you’d pulled the trigger.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “All right, first of all, let’s stop calling her ‘Elevator Girl.’ She’s got a name.”

Once he’d told them your name, however, their smiles deepened. And Dean knew it was about to be a long shift.

“Ooh, he’s got it bad, bad,” Benny shook his head.

Meg made a “cute” face at him and reached out to shake Dean’s chin, smirking when he slapped her hand away.

“Look at him, all twitterpated,” she teased.

“I’m fine,” Dean all but gritted out. 

Benny chuckled, but truthfully, he was happy for his friend. It seemed the time had finally come when Dean Winchester was hooked on a nice girl. Hopefully one he intended to keep seeing.

“If it’s that serious, you should bring her by the Roadhouse again,” Benny said.

Dean snorted into his coffee. “Yeah, like I’d want to subject her to you degenerate clowns.”

“Well, if you expect to keep it going with this girl, she’s gotta meet us eventually,” Meg pointed out. Dean shot her a look.

“Oh, she’s definitely not meetin’ you,” he said.

Meg’s brows knit together. “What? I’m perfectly pleasant.”

Before Dean could utter a retort, a familiar alarm bell tolled on the intercom speakers. There was a working house fire over in Bellmont—the wealthier part of town. Truck 79 and Rescue Squad 5 were called, along with Ambulance 7.

All hands on deck.

“Okay, Jack. You’re staying on my ass once we get in there. You got it?” Dean told the Candidate.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Jack agreed. It was only his second real fire since he joined Firehouse 25.

By now the team was in full gear, with jackets and helmets and belts. The Chief, Bobby Singer, was at the helm. He and Dean shared a nod.

“All right, Dean. Head in. Lafitte and Ramirez will vent the roof,” he said. 

Dean nodded again. “You got it, Chief.”

While two of his team got the firehose ready, Dean fitted his mask over his face. Already the fire was at a full blaze. They had a limited time before the fire grew too wild to safely maneuver. They’d know when the flames started smoking black. The Chief would let them know on their walkie talkies, and Dean would have to pull his team out.

But first, there was a family of four trapped inside the large two-story house. He fully intended to get every single one of them out.

Thanks to the mask, he could hear his own deep breaths in his ears as he entered the house. A quick look back confirmed that Jack was on his heels, and Gordon was right behind him.

“Okay, clear each room. I’m going right, through the kitchen,” Dean called out the order.

“I’ll take left through the living room,” Gordon replied.

Dean shot a thumbs up. “Copy that.”

Then they got to work.

The flames were high and eating up the walls of what would’ve been a pristine open kitchen. The room was clear, so Jack and Dean kept moving forward until they reached a long hall. They had to hasten single file until Dean opened up the first bedroom with his crowbar.

“Fire Department, call out!” he shouted.

He didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean the room was clear. It was a child’s room, a girl if he had to guess. There were stuffed animals strewn across an unmade bed with pink bedsheets. He checked the closet while Jack looked under the bed. Neither man found anything.

“All right, moving on. First bedroom clear,” Dean said into his walkie talkie. “Going upstairs next.”

“Master bedroom clear,” Gordon commed in.

Jack and Dean continued to the second floor, where the flames were thickest. It was getting harder to see, and even harder to breathe, despite the mask.

“We’re almost outta time, fellas,” Bobby radioed.  

“Just a couple more rooms, Chief,” Dean responded. The first and second bathroom was clear, as was a linen closet in the hall. He had a feeling about this last room though.

He opened the door and nearly got a flaming piece of wall dropped on his head. He jumped back at the same time Jack helped pull him to safety.

Dean breathed deeply. He didn’t have time for thanks, but he reached back and pat Jack on the arm before he entered the bedroom. It was another child’s room, this time for a boy—with green walls, and a school uniform on the back of a chair.

“Fire Department!” he said, though it nearly died on his tongue at what he saw.

There in the far corner, on the other side of the twin bed, was a man kneeling on the floor. He was doing his best to cover his wife and kids. His back was charred beyond recognition.

Dean snapped to attention when he heard one of the kids whimper.

“Fire Department,” he repeated, as he rushed to them. He and Jack peeled the man off his family as carefully as he could. Dean hauled him onto his shoulder.

Meanwhile, the man’s wife was crying and holding her children as tight as possible: a boy that looked about 10 years old, and a young girl. The mother’s glassy eyes widened with hope when she saw Jack and Dean.

“We’re gonna get you out. Come on,” Dean reassured. His hand on her shoulder was both supportive and urging her up onto her feet. Jack helped get her kids up as well.

Gordon joined them as soon as they were out of the room. He picked up the boy while Jack carried the little girl, and Dean had an arm wrapped around the mother while he still carried the father on his shoulder. 

They made it out of the house just before the ceiling started to cave in at the doorway.

Meg and Chuck were waiting for them with a gurney, where Dean carefully laid down the man he carried. His wife hovered close with her kids as Meg began calling out instructions to her partner, trying to take the man’s vitals, all while they wheeled him towards the ambulance.

Just before they would’ve brought him up into the ambo, Meg halted them with a hand. Her other gloved hand was poised at the man’s wrist. She listened closely for a few more seconds in concentration…

And she sighed through her nose. She removed her stethoscope and met the wife’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. He’s gone.”

Dean’s heart fell into his stomach, but he held the woman as she fell apart. Jack and Gordon did the same for the kids. Behind them, the rest of the team were dousing the flames and black smoke consuming the house with the firehose. Chief Singer let out a heavy breath, but he continued issuing orders as needed.

Dean stared at the pale, soot-stained face of the man he’d failed to save. The woman’s cries rang in his ears, and he continued to support her as she fell to her knees and gathered her children close.

He understood their pain.

Not for the first time, he wondered what his father must’ve felt…the day his mother died.

Dean was a seasoned firefighter. He’d seen enough of the horrors this world could produce, and he had an internal catalogue of shit he’d rather forget. But he knew, as he later got back onto the truck for the long ride back to the firehouse.

He knew this day would be another one to be imprinted on his memory.

“You’re quiet,” Sam noted. He ate dinner in relative silence with his brother, in the apartment they shared. Dean met Sam’s eyes.

“Long day,” Dean eventually said.

Sam didn’t like the sound of that. Before he could probe further, Dean’s phone vibrated on the small dining table.

Dean slowly reached for his phone and saw the new text message, from you.

Hey, thanks again for lunch yesterday. Hope I get to see you again soon. ❤️

It briefly lightened him, almost bringing a smile to his face.

It soon fell, even though his thumb hovered over the keyboard to reply. His mind was blank. Right now, he couldn’t think of a damn thing flirtatious, or charming, or even human enough to say to you.

“Dean,” Sam said, earning his attention. “What’s wrong?”

Again, Dean hesitated. He blew out a slow, heavy breath and sat back in his seat. He ran his fingers roughly through his hair as he thought and thought.

But if anyone might’ve understood where his head was at, it was his brother.

“What do you think would’ve happened if Mom had made it out of the fire, instead of Dad?” Dean asked.

To say that question shocked Sam would be an understatement. Yet to his credit, Sam internalized most of his reaction. He tilted his head as his brows furrowed.

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. Dean’s question was impossible for his mind to even wrap around; mostly because he never got the chance to meet his mother. The house fire claimed their home when Sam was barely six months old.

All he knew was his father, and Dean.

Dean shook his head and wiped a hand over his mouth, an anxious gesture Sam knew well. 

“She would’ve been just as messed up at Dad, but…I don’t know. Ignore me. I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying.”

“What made you think about that?” Sam asked.

“Today,” Dean said. Though he paused, he managed to say it. “It was a house fire. A mom and two little kids, boy and girl. Their dad just laid over ‘em, took the brunt of it.”

“Jesus…he didn’t make it, did he?” Sam deduced, from Dean’s eyes and his tone. Dean shook his head slow. 

“I’ve seen a lot of shit, Sammy, but…”

This was why Sam worried about his brother. He admired the hell out of him, but he also worried. 

Sam had a ring in his nightstand. He’d picked it out last month. Part of him was hesitating to move forward, not because he thought his girlfriend of three years would say no to marrying him, but because he didn’t want his brother to be alone.

“You don’t have to look at me like that. I’m okay,” Dean said, levying him with a knowing look. His lips gave a wry turn. “Nothing a couple shots of Jameson won’t cure.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, that’s what you need.”

“Right. Like I haven’t caught you up late with your mistress, Johnny Walker,” Dean tossed back.

Sam’s lips pursed, but the point was made. He spent his days putting murderers, drug dealers, rapists, and thieves on trial. Some days were darker and more unreal in their realism than others. And he could only burden Eileen so much.

Still, he didn’t like the look of Dean, who got up from the table and took his half-full plate of spaghetti to the sink.

Dean went up to his room and showered. He’d done so at the station, but showering was one of those methodical things he could do to try to ease his mind, besides working on his car. It provided an alternative to drinking. 

But it didn’t work this time, as he knew it wouldn’t. He lied in bed after getting dressed, just staring up at the ceiling. 

He checked his phone and saw your text, still waiting on an answer. He hesitated…but his thumb hovered over your name. He called you instead.  

“Hey,” your soft voice greeted him. You sounded surprised to get his call, but also a little sleepy, like you were on the verge of going down for the night.

“Hey, yourself,” Dean said. “Sorry, were you about to get to sleep?”

“No, I’m awake. What’re you up to?”

“I’m home. Been a long day,” he admitted. 

“Yeah?” you asked. “Dean, are you okay?”

He heard the perceptive shift in your tone. Against his best efforts, he should’ve known you would pick up on the threads of his mood. But he smiled at the sincerity in your voice. True concern. 

“Yeah. I’m good, sweetheart. How’re you?”

“Uh-uh. Not so fast,” you replied. “…Did something happen at work today?”

He sighed. “Yeah, but uh…we don’t need to get into it. It’s okay.”

“You sure?” you asked. “I’m a good listener.”

“That you are,” he said, with a deeper smile. “You know what’ll help me?”

“What’s that?”

“Tell me, how bad did you wanna knuckle-dunk your boss’s teeth in today?” 

“Oh my God. On a scale of 1 to 10?”

“Lay it on me.”

“20,” you replied. “You met him, so now I can tell you without exaggeration. He’s the Chief Asshat among asshats.”

Dean chuckled. It crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“What’d he do this time?”

You explained your latest frustrations. Then you continued to make him laugh with all the creative ways you’d imagined ending your boss for his dickish behavior, demanding reports, pitting you against your coworkers, being a general pain in the ass. 

The rusty can opener in the break lounge was Dean’s personal favorite. 

Hearing about your day, and the colorful adjectives you used, managed to lighten him. For a little while, it even took his mind off his troubles. And you admitted that venting to him about your violent fantasies was its own form of therapy. 

“Damn, do I gotta worry about you?” Dean teased. 

“Only if you get on my bad side, Lieutenant,” you said. Your voice was nearly a purr.

It had him smirking, with a tendril of heat lacing down the back of his neck. 

“All right, then. I promise I won’t make it a habit,” he said. “Gotta keep you nice and sweet for me.” 

You laughed then, in a way that had him imagining your pretty smile. 

He ended up talking with you about everything and nothing, well into the night.

AN: 🥹 *sighs* Anywho, I know this chapter was a little shorter than usual, but I hope you got a kick out of Dean's first meeting with Nick. And we got a snapshot of an unfortunate "bad day" at the firehouse.

In Part 6, we'll get deeper into the murder mystery, along with a taste of jealousy...

Next Time:

“Uh, no, that’s okay,” you said. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“What?” Gordon asked.

It was getting busy in the bar, making it loud enough that you could understand why he hadn’t heard you. You leaned over towards his ear.

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you said, raising your voice a bit. Gordon leaned in even closer and chanced resting a hand above your knee.

“You sure?” he asked. He gave you a smile that was all smooth sex appeal and confidence, without being arrogant. It was undoubtedly attractive, but you were more shocked than charmed in your blush.

You instinctively leaned back when you felt his hand on your thigh.

Keep Reading: PART 6

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#384

“Fucking hell.  If it ain’t Wallace McGrew’s oldest boy!…  Ryan, you did good.  Fuck yeah you did.  I can’t think of anything else that I would enjoy more for my 65th birthday....

 “TJ, did you know about this?...  I’m surprised you two kept this secret so well.  So is he a true faggot or one that you made?...  Well I’ll be damned, Wallace raised himself a screaming sperm burper, and that knob gobbler is standing before us, bound spread eagled, collared, gagged,…  plugged too.  All for me.  Fucking hell Ryan, you couldn’t have done any better with this year’s birthday cunt….

“…So you are the son of Wally?...  Just nod….  Good.  Do you know who I am?...  I would have been surprised that you hadn’t.  What about my ranch manager TJ?...  No.  Did you know Ryan was my boy?...  No.  Good.

“Ryan, why isn’t his pecker caged?  That’s one hell of a raging hard-on….  This faggot’s pecker is like steel….  It’s a good five- or six-incher.  It doesn’t look like he’s on any hard-on medication.  That’s all natural.  Goddamn!  This boy is leaking up a storm.  Now I understand why you didn’t put a cage on him.

“Why don’t you two bring the fuck table over and secure him bent over.  Nice body.  Ryan, you did a good job shaving him….  What?  You didn’t shave him?...  Well that’s interesting. 

“Look at that ass.  See those purple marks on his left cheek.  Those are scars from a savage whipping.  His back has healed up, but I can still see some marks.

“Faggot, you have played before, haven’t you?  It’s obvious you are a faggot.  But you have been beat before, right?  I mean a man has inflicted pain on you for his own enjoyment?...  Did your daddy do this to you?...  No?  Too bad.  You would have been a lot more interesting if he did.

“Fucking hell.  This changes things.

“Ryan, TJ, fuck him.  TJ you go first.  Be quick about it.  Ryan, yank out the plug and let me see it….  It’s spotless.  Did you clean him out?...  So the faggot was prepared….  Actually that doesn’t surprise me.  TJ, just shove it in and go to town.  Be rough on the fag’s cunt.  I want you to cum quick.

“Ryan, show me the video of him….  Wow, the faggot knows how to service your fat pud.  Look at him go.  That’s one hungry fag boy.

“Hey faggot, have you seen this?...  Look at how you throat Ryan’s sausage with ease.  I’m actually impressed here.  I know it’s hard to focus on the video with TJ plowing your twat.  He’ll be done soon.  He’s already started picking up the pace. 

“Look at your face here.  That is the face of a true faggot.  You are in ecstasy slobbering on Ryan’s cock….  You seem to have no trouble with his fat pud.  Most faggots struggle with throating him.

“Oh fuck here goes TJ!...  Damn!  He really came hard.

“TJ!  Pull out so Ryan can take over. 

“Ryan, go in hard and don’t let up.  Get your nut quick then you and TJ can get out of here.  I want to spend some alone time with my birthday present. 

“Hey faggot, the cock filling your mouth in the video is plowing your cunt.  You are kinda getting it from both ends from the same dick….

“Ryan, you should see his face right now.  He’s not struggling like the others.  It appears that Wally McGrew’s son is a seasoned cum dump whore.  I take it that he’s loose?...  Typical.

“Faggot.  When a man, a real man, is going to fuck you, you need to provide a hole that will provide him pleasure.  So tighten up that cunt….  Well, that got a smile out of Ryan….  He’s picking up his pile driving.  Hear that?  That’s the sound of a two hundred fifty-pound man grunting as he’s slamming into your loose cunt.  No better sound in the world.

“Shoot!  Shoot!  Flood this faggot’s guts….  Atta boy!  Fuck yeah.

“Faggot, clamp down as Ryan pulls out.  I want your cunt full of spunk.  Ryan is known for two things, his big dick and his huge loads….

“What’s that Ryan?...  Finish watching the video?  OK.  And I want to be alone with the faggot.  Plug up the faggot’s cunt, then go wait for me in TJ’s house.  Don’t get dressed, and don’t wipe your cock.  The fag will suck clean whatever dried slime flakes remain on it in a bit.  Now go. 

“…So here we are faggot, just you and me.  I have to admit, I was truly surprised.  Not that Ryan snagged Wallace McGrew’s son as my birthday present, although that did surprise me a little.  No, what shocked me is that Wally’s son has experience, lots of it, as a slave. 

“From the scars on your ass and back to your worked over nips, to the fact that you didn’t even flinch when Ryan shoved his beer can cock into your cunt, and to the compliance I saw as they were resecuring your bonds, I can tell you have done this before.  It’s more than that.  The look of ecstasy on your face as this was going on, wasn’t a look of ‘this-feels-so-good,’ but rather one of being in a submissive headspace.  I can tell that no matter what I do to you, what pain I will cause, you are suffering for my desires, and it naturally centers your mind.

“Am I right?  Nod yes or no….  Yeah, I see you.  You are clear to me.  I knew you weren’t a pain pig—a fag that is into receiving pain for pain sake.  Pain pigs bore me beyond the first few minutes I’m with them.  Yeah, if I need to get off, they serve their function.  But you need to connect on a much deeper level, craving to offer your pain and suffering for a higher purpose.

“You understand what I am saying.  Knowing that I—a naturally superior man—am getting my primal needs met by your service,… your submission,… your sacrifice,… and your suffering is all the motivation you need to continue.  You don’t want the pain, but knowing it’s getting me to leak, makes you want it more.  It may be confusing to many, but to you it makes all the sense in the world. 

“I’m always looking for a faggot with this mindset.  I have found a few in my time, never would have guessed that Wally’s boy would be one of them.

“Let me take my cock out….  Look down.  I am rock hard and leaking.  And I see you are too.  So it is safe to say that even though we never really met before, I know you.  I really know you.

“Let me ask you faggot, you want to serve me?...

“Submit to me?...

“Sacrifice for me?...

“Suffer for me?...

“Good.  Faggots like you are hard to find.  I thought Ryan was one when I met him eleven years ago.  It was clear that he did not have that mindset.  But he connected with me so well on so many other things, that we developed into something else. 

“He still serves me and helps me satisfy my cruel sadistic side.  He’s definitely my beta boy.  That’s what’s his groove is.  He likes to bring me objects like yourself so that I can enjoy the way I want to, that I need to.

“Hell, he’s the one who set up this birthday tradition of offering faggots like you.  He goes to Denver, and he takes his time to find the victim.  When my day arrives, I make the trek here to PJ’s ranch outside the city for the reveal.

“He doesn’t go into much detail with me because it’s my birthday present after all.  But I do know that this is a long process for him.  And I have to say the slave cunts he offers me has been perfect, yourself included.

“The one thing that he does with each faggot he offers is to make a video of the fag willingly sucking him off to completion.  He told me that he uses the fag’s phone to record it leading the fag to agree to the filming.  And he always manages to send himself a copy for me to view later.

“Like this video of you expertly throating Ryan’s mammoth cock.  You are a true world class cocksucker. 

“These videos are great.  They provide the motivation for the faggot’s entire time here.  Oh, I forgot to mention, every birthday present is closeted, just like yourself.  If the faggot does not perform to my satisfaction at any time, that video is sent off to where it will have the biggest impact: boss, wife, girlfriend, or—in your case—dad.

“Yes, the intention was to coerce you into submitting to me.  But that all changed in the few minutes when I recognized your true nature.  I don’t feel like coercion is possible; your hunger has been visible all this time.

“But don’t worry.  I will be outing you to your dad.  There is no way in hell that I am not going to pass up that opportunity.  Regardless of whether you make my cut, he’s going to receive a video.

“A word of caution: don’t even think of begging me not to.  Begging is a form of selfishness, and I do not deal with selfish slaves, faggots, or cunts.  You understand?

“No don’t try to say ‘Yes Sir’ around a gag.  The primary reason why I gag faggots like you is that I don’t want to hear the shit that comes out of your mouth. 

“A sharp nod ‘Yes’ is all that’s needed.  It needs to be a quick down then up, and it’s in that order.  Show me….  Good.  Remember that.  A sharp ‘No’ shake would be used in the rare occasion I allow a ‘No’ from you.  If your head is secured, then nod with your eyes.  If you are blindfolded, fuck it, I don’t need to hear from you.

“You will be staying with me for the weekend.  I can see your mind is where it needs to be.  I will be testing out your body’s response.  You will be filmed doing some extreme kink.  I’ll figure what I will use to show your dad.  The ability to fuck over Wally McGrew is the best birthday present I could get.

“Did you know he outed me to the whole town once he caught me plowing one of his farm hands?  That cost me a lot of business.  The worst part was his smug demeanor he had about town; being all righteous looking down at me.  Now I get to tell him his son is a piss drinking, sperm farting, ass eating, cum dump faggot.  It won’t be just him, our little town will know. 

“Oh I got it.  I will show your video to Dwight Smith the barber.  You dad goes in once a week on Thursday for a beard trim like clockwork.  I’ll make sure to be showing Dwight as your dad comes in.  Fuck yeah. 

“This will happen.  Nothing, and I mean nothing, will prevent me from outing you.

“I’m so fucking horny now.  First things first, let me unsecure you.  I want you to stand in the center.  Don’t try to run.  I don’t believe for one bit you are going to try to bail, but one thing I have learned over the years is never—and I mean never—trust a faggot slave.  And I don’t you.  Trust is something earned over a long time serving. 

“You have no shoes, and there’s lots of rocks on the ground; you won’t get very far.  Besides, these ankle and wrist cuffs that are padlocked on you have a tracking device.  So does that shock collar locked around your neck.

“Get over here and help me take my boots off….  That brought a smile to your face.  Just set them aside.  I’m going back in them once I take off my jeans and boxers.  Here, smell my foot.  Inhale deeply.  Better than any poppers out there.  Now my pants. 

“I see you eyeing my bulge.  Faggot, that is the center of your world from now on.  Go on and touch it; I know you want to.  But only briefly.  Now pull down my boxers.  Look at my cock.  It’s not as thick as Ryan’s, but mine is a bit longer.  It stays hard longer, and I can cum multiple times.

“Sniff my shorts, especially the tiny skid mark.  You are going to intimately know my shithole going forward.  Now help me put my boots back on….

“…Don’t worry, your tongue will be exploring my boots later.  But now, hand me my belt from my jeans.  Good.  Now go stand in the middle over there.

“Raise both arms above your head.  Keep them up there.  Today is my 65th birthday.  It is a birthday tradition that there needs to be birthday beatings.  Spankings are so pointless.  A good ol’ fashioned ass lickin’ is more in line with what is needed.  And there is no way that my ass is going to receive an ass lickin’ of any type other than with your tongue.  So that means you are the one who will be on the receiving end of said beatings.  65 of them.  I want you to count.  Make sure those numbers are clearly announced around that gag.

“I would ask if you were ready, but your dick is leaking harder than I have seen it before.  Look at my cock.  It too is leaking.  We are both ready to do this.  Let’s get some active welts going. 

“Now don’t fucking move from that spot.  No matter what I do to you, remain there. 

“One!  Holy shit!  That one was perfect across your ass.  You will learn, I don’t ramp up my intensity.  The first is as cruel as the last.  But this one landed perfectly across both cheeks.  Oh fuck, I already broke skin. 

“Cry all you need to boy.  I’ve only just begun.  Oh look!  There’s some blood.  Fuck yeah.  “And know this faggot, you are making me one happy man.”

[starshinesluvr]

:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀ `· . ୨୧ various edward nashton hcs & thoughts !!

contains: a mention or two about his killings in the movie, religious trauma, & drug usage. word count: 1.4k

writers note: hi friends! guhfhkj i am being brave and posting some writing on main.... ( ;´ - `;) here are a few headcanons and general thoughts that've been Marinating in my mind for a while. i felt like this was getting quite long, so maybe i'll have another post with some more soon.. because i have many thoughts..enjoooy! ^_^

♡ obviously he is obsessive. and loves repetitive actions and routines. his main special interest would be the renewal fund and the wayne family. (obviously) he has a big sense of moral justice. ⋆⭒ one of his main repetitive actions would be counting. he does this a lot with his fingers, the books on his shelf, or even the letters on a neon sign outside. just quickly under his breath. ⋆⭒ he also would sway. he usually does this in his apartment, when hes scrolling nigma or something. it really calms him. i think he would be too self-conscious to do it in public though. the King of masking. but occasionally he cant help himself when he's really focused at a café or something.

♡ but some of his other interests include: retro games, ancient civilizations, and general puzzle games. and god this man is a consistent minesweeper frequenter. heavy on frequent. loves 2048, sudoku, does the daily crossword on newspapers.

♡ half of the apps on his phone has to be games. 'games on his phone?' yes.

♡ i think he also has a undying love for pokemon. unsure what his favorite type would be, i think he would cycle through different types every single time the interest pops back up in his head again.

♡ AND GUYS GENUINELY HERE ME OUT. i think he helped code the club penguin rewritten website . im So. so serious on this one.

♡ OH OH. OHHH!! one of his longest lasting special interests? languages. how this starts? i imagine young edward back at the orphanage, already finished reading every single book he could find... every single english book, that is. maybe he'd sneak into the library. he's sure those books have riddles that can only be solved if you understand its language first. ⋆⭒ he finds interest in the progression of languages especially. how they change over time, and the origin of words and their sounds. ⋆⭒ though i don't think he would be a polyglot. but he'd know a lot of random words here and there, and some slang words no one would expect him to know from many languages!

♡ but a language he especially would like is ASL. he'd have a heightened interest of any form of communication that doesn't involve words. like, the font wingdings y'know? any kind of 'code.' ⋆⭒ he'd especially love learning ASL on his own during his younger years, since he struggled with speaking more often back then. he doesn't talk to anyone much now a days anyways, unless its small talk. (okk i see you selective mutism representation! >_< )

♡ he is sadistic. not a headcanon, just fact. this can be seen in his killings in the movie. though he primarily killed to give a point to the city of gotham, and to become a symbol much bigger than himself, he never gives these people quick and simple deaths. he enjoys these killings. cutting off the mayor’s thumb while he was still alive, sticking rat poison in officer savage, and sticking his head in a rat cage, waiting for them to eat him alive shown for everyone to watch. these were thought out, and he enjoyed watching. he enjoyed putting on a show, and their deaths were his entertainment.

♡ though outside of being the riddler, edward has a lot of self hatred. this fronts as anger, standoffish and anti-social behaviors. he doesn't mean to be mean, its just deep rooted. a combined hatred of everyone who'd hurt him prior.

♡ even though he hates himself, he also thinks of himself as better than anyone else. he feels as if he is worthy, and he has the intellect to show it. he consistently searches for small, daily positions that keep him in power.

♡ has a love/hate relationship with his own intellect. he wishes he wasn't cursed with his knowledge, sometimes he just wishes he could be blind and stupid to the darkness of the city. but he prides himself in being smart, especially in being good with numbers. its something he knows he can actually do correctly. he loves the certainty of numbers, how they never change or lie.

♡ i think would mostly hate how smart he was when he was younger. he hated how it distanced himself from genuinely everyone, and at one point he wasn't sure if he just enjoyed being reclusive or if he simply just got used to it. ⋆⭒ he would hate how the other kids or his classmates would only talk to him when they needed answers for their work and how they would expect him to know everything. (he sadly did.)

♡ he loves consistency. but hates complacency. he knows things can change, things could be better. but he finds comfort in his routines, even if it makes his world grey.

♡ due to religion being constantly drilled into his brain throughout his childhood, he experiences severe trauma. when he does something that is not pleasing to the beliefs he was taught, he self deprecates. lots of talking down on himself. he still can remember a few memory verses and prayers, and sometimes obsessively recites them to himself. ⋆⭒ he knows some of his fears are honestly a little irrational, that maybe one day he'll just be struck down. he's trying not to let them take over his logic, but he struggles. he is constantly upset that he still has these childhood fears that bind him.

♡ speaking of his time during the orphanage: his dirty unkempt upbringing and the long lasting effects of it could be seen in his living space. the chaotic and 'dirty' environment is almost comforting to him. sticky notes with ramblings of riddles and math problems. besides, his brain works too fast to care where things were placed in his home.  

♡ despite his messy apartment, he hates feeling dirty. this is also thanks to the orphanage. he’s well kempt. everything is messy, not dirty. the orphanage was sadly, both. he looks like a sopping wet rat, it doesn't mean he smells like one though.

♡ he also has a fear of smelling bad, despite knowing he thoroughly washes. ⋆⭒ i think he would smell like soap or just his laundry detergent. he wants to try different scents, he kind of likes the idea of having a 'signature scent,' but honestly some smells give him a headache if they're too concentrated. and he can't have that while doing his everyday activities. ⋆⭒ its the kind of scent where you can only really smell it on the person when you hug them, y'know? which is kind of fine to him, he'd rather smell like nothing than something bad.

♡ he absolutely despises drops. any kind of heavy drug really he stays away from. he knows just how easily it can unravel a person, after constantly watching kids as young as 12 years old become addicted to it. his intellect would go to waste if he ever decided to start using.

♡ BUT! definitely smokes weed, or just in general he smokes. he probably tried it for the first time in his early twenties, hated it and dropped it. but he CANNOT continue handling his anxieties raw. so he picks it up again in his thirties. only occasionally... kind of.

♡ he loves LOVES animals. i like to think he had a little hyperfixation on animals and the general care for them when he was younger, so despite never having a pet, he could definitely at least recommend what to feed your average household pet.

♡ not only that, but he finds interest their internal structures, and the similarities to the human body. (i honestly don't know where these hcs came from, but bare with me here.) ⋆⭒ he loves dogs, but he's found himself liking cats a bit more recently. especially strays, he finds their resilience to continue living despite their circumstances to be admirable. ⋆⭒ he'd love to adopt. but he can hardly keep track of his own health, not to mention the state of his apartment. and don't even get him started on the extra expenses. ⋆⭒ though, i think he'd be pretty scared of interacting with any stray, maybe just animals in general he'd be pretty hesitant of being around. he doesn't like the uncertainty. and hates remembering his bad experiences with animals when he was younger. ⋆⭒ i think he'd bring himself to a cat café for one of his birthdays after weighing the pros and cons, after a day that was especially rough on him or something. he usually doesn't care for the date, but he honestly just likes using it as an excuse to go out somewhere whenever he feels like it. (he probably cried either from the animals' cuteness or the fact that he was there alone, maybe a bit of both. poor employees probably didn't know what to do.) ⋆⭒ i also think it would be funny if he was allergic, but obsessed. constantly sneezing but he can't help but want to cuddle up with them. but he doesn't have to be.

[itsyagurlchip]

INGRESSIVE INHALE

I. Need. 2018 Raphael. DATE HEADCANONS

(only if you want :3)

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Lovely Sights☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ᯓᡣ𐭩warnings: none, enjoy :)!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 VOID MY DEARRRRR ❤️❤️❤️ I GOTCHU BAE 🤪 but fr, thx for requesting! (GUYS STOP SAYING "IF YOU WANT TO" GRGGRGRGGR I WOULDVE DELETED THE ASK IF I DIDNT WANT TO USYGSUYGSUHVUSGV) (this was from months ago, we are now divorced. croak you old witch/jjjj)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Ohhhhh, Raph has a datemateee~

Raph is a huge guy, so that's where all the love's gonna be at today.

He loves it when you sleep on top of him when you guys cuddle, to feel that small pressure on him makes him sleep as well.

While he doesn't like holding you per say, he loves it when you hang onto him.

It makes him feel like he doesn't always have to be aware of himself holding you, and only the things around you two.

Raph feels comforted when you just hold his face, and close your eyes..

Whether it is a breathing practice, or when he needs to calm down, he always likes the feeling of your hands against his face.

Double points if you scratch his neck between those two spikes-!

Oh man, you're the best at those.

I feel like if Raph were approached with a situation where he's feeling possessive, he'd get all shy and nervous about it.

He feels as if it shouldn't be right for him to feel that way, I mean, y-you're already perfect so- why'd you wanna huffy puffy giant over your shoulder?

Nuh uh! He resists it all! Okay, maybe glare at the woman staring at you, and the dude biting his lip.

What's up with everyone and trying to snatch you up!? All the other people were wuss, and Raph got you first!

Eyes off punk!

Sometimes, when you're sitting on the couch, Raph just likes to plant his head on your lap and watch you do whatever you're doing.

The way your face scrunches up when a main character does something stupid.

Or when you giggle at a short video.

And when you subconsciously start rubbing your hand against the back of his neck.

It makes him shiver, with a deep rumble, and relax more into your warmth.

Sometimes you don't even know it, but Raph unknowingly takes your arm and just rests his teeth there.

Not even biting it, just resting his jaw between your arm.

Sometimes he adds pressure to feel the gummy-squish as he nibbles softly.

"Raph, Honey, you're doing it again." You'd say, smiling a bit as Donnie went on to explain what the mission was.

"Mhoin' wha'?" He muffled, looking down at your arm and letting go immediately.

He gets super embarrassed afterwards.

On the line of embarrassed, the MOMENT you leave the lair he's all giggly n stuff.

"Bro who gotchu smilin' like that?"

He brothers tease him so much for it, but he can't help but take it because ALL of what they're saying is TRUE.

Poor guy is lovesick, and all you did was make kandi together :)

Sometimes he likes to gush to Mikey about your most recent date, or the outfit you wore today, and the way you smiled while talking about your favorite food.

Mikey was eatin' it up. He declared Raph 'Downbad, Certified Love Chaser.'

Leo would side eye with every rant, pretending to throw up at every compliment Raph prayed your way.

Like bro, keep that to yourself thank yew very much.

If Raph ever talks to Donnie about you, he would simply be confused.

Why is Raph talking about crushes to Donnie? His heart belongs to the one and only Atomic Lass.

With all those words, he could literally program a bot. But he lets him talk, never really listens though.

I don't think i've ever covered this part of him, but how would Savage Raph feel about you?

Me personally, I see Savage Raph as a defense mechanism to protect himself when he truly thinks he's alone.

And in turn, it sort of makes him more turtle than teenager you know?

Let's look at this two ways;

If he did think you were a threat, he would probably hurt you severely. When snapping turtles find people as threats, they either hide or bite them.(I know many people don't like hearing that, but I think it's true)

If he didn't, then he would protect you as well. Maybe even huddle himself around you to create a barrier between you and the world. When snapping turtles want to show affection, they protect their mates from harm.

Do you see the vision?

Which brings me to my next point:

While Raph never wants to intentionally hurt you, ever, it still happens. Savage Raph, for example.

You guys will find yourselves in moments where you nick your hands or shoulders during cuddling, and Raph apologizes heavily.

He'll panic first, not knowing what to do because his mind's run a blank.

But after a lil pep talk with mind Raph, he gets himself together and grabs you a bandaid from his dresser, not before cleaning the scratch though.

When you guys train together, his punches can leave giant bruises on you and he feels guilty every single time.

You swear you're fine! You could take more!!

But Raph seeing you breath heavily will be like "Nope! Nuh uh, you're going to the med-room. I ain't fightin' you until you take a break!"

All Raph knows, he has a lovely sight to see everyday.

He couldn't believe it took so long to find it.

tehe I made it extra long for you<333

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა tags: @kittykittyanon @bonefanatic @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა@ziipzeepzop-eez @wheezdostuff @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r @matteo-hamato

@clown-froggi

if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

[luimagines]

"Hello, this is not a request, but I want to share an idea I've had for a while.

Can you imagine a FNAF reader?

Now, do you remember the 5 missing children?

One of them was the older brother of the FNAF reader, adding a touch of anguish. FNAF reader witnessed how the Purple Guy killed her brother and the other children. She was spared from being murdered because her brother hid her in a desperate attempt to protect her. FNAF reader was so traumatized, so scarred by the death of her brother and those children, that she was never able to tell anyone what happened, developing such deep post-traumatic stress that a large part of her personality changed after that. FNAF reader became terribly protective of those close to her, especially if they were young or children. It didn’t help that she couldn’t trust people easily, as she could see and know when someone was a danger, especially if that threat was directed at a child.

Now, when FNAF reader meets the Chain, it’s hard for her to trust them, but that changes thanks to Wind, who reminds her so much of her late older brother with his cheerful and mischievous personality. It also didn’t help that he was a pirate, which only heightened the memory of those happy days full of innocence.

To the Chain’s confusion, they don’t understand or associate why FNAF reader is so brutally protective of Wind. Even Wind doesn’t understand why she’s so protective of him—he’s a hero, after all, and can take care of himself.

It’s not until they’re in Warriors’s Castletown, and most of the group has left their weapons at the inn while they go to the market, that FNAF reader sees it—a predator in the crowd, with their eyes on Wind. She does everything possible to make sure Wind doesn’t get separated from her, not even for a second, but the worst happens.

In a moment of distraction, Wind gets separated due to the crowd at the market. The Chain tries to calm FNAF reader, but she’s unable to tell them that Wind is in danger. Her desperation grows with each passing second as she searches everywhere for him. When she finally finds him, oh no. Wind is in an alleyway, frozen with fear, with that same person about to kill him. She dissociates; she no longer sees Wind and a man, but the Purple Guy about to kill her older brother. She sees red, and years of pent-up rage explode.

With a ferocity that would scare even a certain god of war trapped behind a mask, FNAF reader attacks this predator mercilessly to save and protect Wind. Her mind only repeats, ‘Protect’ ‘Not again,’ as she punches the child-killer with her bare fists. When the Chain arrives, they are horrified and can barely pull FNAF reader off the man. Even Time, with his strength, can’t contain her savage state.

If it weren’t for a group of guards passing by, no one would have been able to stop FNAF reader from beating the man to death.

If it hadn’t been for a disturbed Wind’s statement about what happened, FNAF reader would have barely escaped imprisonment, as she had acted in defense of Wind. It also helped that the man who tried to kill Wind was already being sought for other child murder crimes.

When everything calms down and they are back at the inn, with Wind still clinging to FNAF reader, trying to process what happened, Time is the first to demand an explanation. He asks why she attacked like a rabid animal without thinking twice about the man who had already been arrested for attempting to murder Wind. FNAF reader, after so many years, is finally able to tell someone through tears what happened to her when she was young, how, as a little girl, she witnessed her brother and his friends being cruelly murdered by an adult, and how she was only saved because her older brother had hidden her to protect her from the man. And she couldn’t bear the thought of it happening again, especially to Wind, who is only a few years older than her brother was when he was killed.

There is complete silence. None of the Chain can believe it, but at the same time, it all makes sense—why FNAF reader is so protective of Wind. What she experienced as a child was undeniably traumatic, and it’s impossible not to be scarred after something like that.

I don't much about FNAF. I lost contact with the plot after like... game 2. XD

I've never been good with horror so I avoid it as much as I can.

I don't think we've ever had a FNAF! reader though. I know someone brought up a Poppy Playtime a little bit ago.

You must have been sitting on this for a while then, huh? ^.^*

This could easily be a full-scale fic. Granted, I don't see it being more than a one-shot but it's very impressive none the less.

Poor Wind. When you said Predator though, my brain went to a different place instead of just... direct murder. Torture beforehand was completely where I thought it was going to go.

[vibratingskull]

Hello! 👋 I have a request if you don't mind. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 Thrawn x f!reader reunion sex. F!reader was with Morgan, Bylan, Shin, and Sabine in finding Thrawn cause that's her man and she misses him and when they reunite, they have passionate alone time together 😏

Mmmmmmmmh 😋 smexy times with Thrawn, you have such good tastes anon. Plus Lars interpretation is DOING THINGS to me 😩🥵

Thrawnxf!reader

tag : reunion sex, cunnilingus, p in v sex, she/her reader and a bit of fluff

“What was first just a dream has become a frightening reality for those who may oppose us.” He casually says, closing the gap between him and the group with his signature smirk.

You straighten your back, gulping, your heart beating at 100 miles per hour.

Finally.

After ten years.

You can see him in all his glory.

Thrawn…

Your heart screams to throw yourself at him, everyone be damned, but it is a bad idea. None of them are aware of your relationship with Thrawn, you took great care in hiding that from them. This info is too sensitive to be known by anyone. Morgan would have tried to get rid of you if she knew, her thirst for power and glory pushing her to follow and obey Thrawn in all matters, but she’s not without deviances and you don’t trust her enough, Thrawn didn’t trust her enough either to reveal your relationship to her back in the Empire.

But you, you know her.

She always struck you as an odd choice for Thrawn to take as a protégé… She always lacked the genius he saw in Vanto and Faro, maybe it’s her undying loyalty that resembles obsession that pleased him? You doubt it. He surely only took her under his wings to know more about the Force and fight the jedis more efficiently.

“Great mothers, I salute you. Soon we should all escape this exile thanks to the help of Morgan Elsbeth.”

Oh that voice… so soft and melodic like in your memories. How much you yearned to hear it again. It makes you want to run into his arms and hug him tightly, to jump in his embrace and kiss him deeply.

But that would be stupidly dangerous. Elsbeth is too savage and you don’t feel those… Great Mothers. Something tells you they are the kind to exploit any weakness.

The discussion continues while your eyes remain on your man, your treasure, your cha’cah… He’s old. He seems tired and weary, his uniform is patched up. The weight of years really makes itself felt despite his haughty demeanor.

But to you he’s never been so handsome.

Nothing could compare to him and the moment of your reunion.

This instant is magic, timeless.  A fairy tale. You feel light bubbles in your stomach. But you have one lingering fear…

“And you are?” he asks Baylan, clasping his hand behind his back as you remember him doing.

“Mercenaries” Morgan explains “Baylan Skoll, and his apprentice Shin Hati.” She presents them, they bow lightly to him, remaining humble. “And (Y/n)(F/n), but I think you already know her.” 

You take a step forward and bow respectfully to him, a sour taste in your mouth. What if his sentiment faded during this ten years exile? What if he found comfort in the arms of one of his stormtroopers? What if you’re just too old for him now?

You look into his eyes as you raise back your head, he glares back at you with a light grin.

“I do remember. We used to work closely to defeat the enemy of the Empire together.”

“Indeed, Grand Admiral.” You nod humbly.

Oh to be close, you were close. As close as you can be. He takes his time to gauge you up and down with his little grin before turning back to Baylan.

“Then you must be General Baylan Skoll, of the Jedi order.”

----------------------------------------------------

You're fidgeting your fingers, laying on the bed. 

You can’t sleep. 

You’re well awake under the covers, eyes fixated on the stone ceiling of the cold room, mulling over your situation.

You find him! A hunt of ten years just ended, and you hoped for… more? Just after finishing the presentations Thrawn and Morgan locked themself in a room to strategize your next moves. Baylan, Shin and you were left arms dangling without anything to do. You tried to access the Chimaera to visit your old room but the captain, Enoch, stopped you and escorted you back to the stone citadel without a word.

You’re not welcome in the Chimaera anymore it seems.

Are your fears correct?

Did he find someone else?

You sigh deeply, turning in the cover again.You try not to think too much about it, you wished you could ask him for an explanation but each time you tried to enter the room a soldier stopped you. And you don’t think he would have appreciated to be disturbed in his brainstorming session for heart matters.

You bite your lips, feeling tears building behind your eyes. Even after ten years that still hurts like hell. You hoped for an explosive reunion, but you got a nod and a grin before getting ignored and relegated to a goon status. If only you could just cross path with him in the corridors, just one discussion to clear the air and know your situation for certain, if only-

You hear knocks at your door.

You raise your head. It’s almost 3am, who would come at this hour?

“Coming!” You shout, praying for it not to be Enoch with bad news.

You open your door to Thrawn, hands behind his back, and a serious gaze.

“Oh…” That’s all you can say, you thought he was already sleeping.

Apparently the session with Morgan only ended moments ago.

“May I enter?” he politely asks.

You step to the side, signaling him your permission. He enters slowly, like he’s discovering the room. You close the door and cross your arms, as much to protect you from the cold than to protect yourself from what he could throw at you.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, a little anxious.

He spins on himself, turning to you.

“Nothing is wrong, dear. Nothing has ever been this brighter in ten years.”

You smile a bit, nodding.

“Yeah, I guess finally seeing your rescue group must lift a heavy weight off your shoulders.”

“It is true. But I was not referring to that.” he counters. “Approach.”

You tilt your head, walking toward him. He extends his hand to you and you take it, wondering what he wants. He inspects your left hand and a smile graces his lips.

“You are still wearing your wedding ring.” you think you hear some relief in his tone but you can’t be sure.

“Yes. I kept it for all those years.” you admit.

“Does it still have value in your eyes?” he asks suddenly.

“What do you mean?” you frown.

“Your ring. Does it still hold any meaning to your heart?” he demands with gleaming eyes.

After a hesitation you nod.

“Yes. Yes it does.”

He looks into your eyes, as to see if you were lying and sighs of relief.

“You ease my heart.” he takes his left hand from behind his back into your hand, revealing his own ring “I kept mine too. It reminded me of you everyday.” He kisses your hand reverently.

You observe his ring on his finger, feeling your heart dilating with relief. 

He didn’t forget you…

“Thank Maker.” you whisper, closing your eyes.

“Cha’cah.” you reopen your eyes, feeling his warm palms on your cheek “I am blissful to see you. I missed you terribly.”

“I missed you too.” you throw yourself in his arms, circling him tightly.

He squeezes you against his heart, kissing the top of your head.

“I am here, cha’cah. And I am not going anywhere this time.”

You raise your gaze to meet his, full of hope.

“You promise?” you hear your voice crack “I already lost you once, I won’t survive losing you a second time.”

“I promise cha’cah. From now on we will remain together, fight together, rule together…” he tries to appease you.

“I don’t care about ruling anybody, it’s you that I want!” You bury yourself against him, digging your nails in the fabric of his white uniform like he would evaporate. You don’t care about any powers, all you came here for is to bring him home, you will think about power after.

“You are right as always. I am sorry. This is the most important.” He murmurs as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent.

He looms over you with his height, shielding you with his large shoulders. You start hearing a faint purr as he breathes in your musk.

“You smell lovely.” he finally says after a minute of silence.

“Yeah right!” you giggle “I’m sweaty and there aren't any showers here.”

“Well it is lovely nonetheless.” He inhales again with a growl of satisfaction “It is doing things to me…” he sighs deeply satisfied.

He starts kissing your exposed neck as you chuckle.

“Doing things to you? What happened to my unshakable Grand Admiral?”

“Maybe the unshakable Grand Admiral would like to revel in your delights.” he says lowly, pushing you gently against a wall.

You’re pressed between the cold stone and the large wall that is his chest, he kisses your neck, your jaw, stops to devour you with his red gaze and finally kisses your lips. You close your eyes to savor it, opening your mouth to let him enter. His tongue passes past your lips to hug and dance with yours. You  moan against his soft lips, indulging yourself in the languorous kiss. His purr grows louder, a hand in your hair to press your lips against his, his other hand snakes its way in your back to pull your body against his. You circle his shoulders with your arm, a hand passing in his hair, dishevelling him. The kiss became heavy and feverish, his hands sliding under your shirt, caressing your bare skin with his warm palm. You part with him to start unbuttoning his jacket with haste, barely containing your desire to simply tear it apart to gain access to his body. Thrawn chuckles darkly.

“I do not remember you so hasty.”

“We didn’t have 10 years to compensate.” you counter, you wince because a stupid button refuses to open.

He kisses your forehead tenderly and opens it for you, taking his sweet time deliberately. 

“I don’t wanna play tonight.” you say between a plea and an order.

“You are right, this is cruel of me.”

He finishes to open his jacket at a more acceptable pace and take it off, leaving himself in his signature black tank top.

“Maker, your taste in fashion hasn't evolved in ten years.” you giggle.

He sighs and tackles your feet. You yelp in surprise, losing your balance but he catches you with expert hands and carries you bridal style to your basic bed. He lays you down, looming over you like a predator and kisses you again, pulling your shirt over your breast and sliding your bra under it to expose your sensitive tits. He lapps them avidly, licks across the mount and sucks them like he would gulp down a treat, groping them with his large warm hands. You whimper and arch your back under his ministrations, how right does it feel to feel him on you again…

He kisses your tit and passes to the other, giving it the same treatment while massaging the first one. Your breath gets stuck in your throat and you feel your pussy starting to leak with your slick and soaking your undergarment. You want his lips and hands everywhere on you at the same time, you want to feel the weight of his body on yours, pining you into place, you want him deep inside you.

“Hurry… Please hurry…” you whimper as his tongue works on your nipple.

“No.'' He berates you gently “I have been deprived of you for so long, let me enjoy it as I please.” He slowly trails his way down your stomach with his tongue, leaving a trail of fresh saliva from your breast to your tummy. He reaches the hem of your pants and takes a good lick at your venus mons with the flat of his tongue. He kisses it swiftly and opens your pants with deft hands.

“First, let me indulge myself in my favorite treat.” he says with a short breath, a rare visible sign of his excitement.

You try to raise your bust on your elbow to have a better view when he slides your panties to the side to gain access to your wet cunny. He blows on it lightly, letting the cold hair hit your sensitive bud. You whine, your pussy demanding attention urgently. He chuckles and kisses your pussy lips before taking a fat sloppy lick with the flat of his tongue. You throw your head backward with a moan as he licks and laps you thoroughly, he focuses on your clit, sucking it and flicking his tongue, giving it extra intention, eating you out as good as you remember him doing. Maker, in ten years he didn’t lose his touch, you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. He looks straight into your eyes as he does it, unashamed, growling like a carnivore feasting on its prey. You inadvertently squeeze his head in the spasm of your thighs, his large hands come part them wide open to give him better access. You flush deeply, taking shallow breath you feel yourself trembling terribly as pleasure waves spread through your veins. He continues to tease you like a hungry man, unbothered by your trembling limbs locking his head in its place. The waves grow furious and you come on his face. You let yourself fall on the mattress, tired and ashamed.

“I’m sorry…” you whine between two gasps.

“Never apologize for that. It is exactly what I wanted and you delivered splendidly.” he purrs, working his tongue on your fold. Drinking your slick, he parts your folds and enters you and tonguefuck you thoroughly, darting and caressing your gummy spot so deliciously.

You didn’t know any other man during those ten years, you stayed faithful to him and rarely took the matter in your own hands because you were so busy working to get him back. Those ten years of abstinence got you so sensitive that one orgasm already took a toll on your delicate pussy. You grip his hair and face, trying to pull him off you but he doesn’t budge, remaining firmly in place.

“Thrawn… please…” you try.

“That is it. Call my name cha’cah, do not hesitate to scream it as you cum.” he coos, his swollen lips working on yours all puffy and soft.

You try to wiggle out of his grip but he holds down your hips firmly with a growl of disapprobation, warning you to never deprive him of your cunny. He purposely makes the most obscenes sounds to get you hot and bothered, to let you know that it is because of you he behaves like a rabid animal in heat, that he tossed both of your dignities to indulge in the sinful pleasures of the flesh. You moan under his skillful tongue, you are hypersensitive and already sore, how could you take another orgasm without shattering in a million pieces? Your pussy clench painfully over his tongue, you feel your muscles gorging themself with hot blood and puffing up.

“I missed that pussy.” He groans “You have no idea how much. Ten years without it was torture.”

“It… It wasn’t funny without you either.” you breathe.

“We will make up for it tonight, cha’cah. Do not worry about that.”

Oh you don’t worry about that, you worry about your spasming cunt. You feel your heart beating at max speed, ready to spring out of your ribcage. You feel your own blood beat furiously down in your core.

You come again, a powerful orgasm that tenses up all your muscles. You squirt in his mouth as you land on the mattress with a “oof”.

“Prodigious, cha’cah! You have done it!” He praises you, you can hear the warmth and the satisfaction in his voice and deep purr as he licks his lips hungrily. Thrawn adorns a smug smirk of making you cum two times. He kisses your clit and looms over you again, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He places himself between your legs, raising up on his knees to take off his shirt and open his pants.  You wearily push yourself in a sitting position to get rid of all your clothes sticky and full of sweat. You help him with his pants, seeing the bulge in the tight fabric. It must be painful for him, you think. He frees his erection and you take it in your hand, stroking it lazily and kissing its head. You lick his blue girth from the base to the tip, peppering kisses here and there. He inhales deeply, his head back, caressing your cheek. you take him in your mouth and circle his crown with your tongue. It is warm and heavy in your mouth, it makes you drool. You taste the saltiness of his pre-cum. You start bobbing your head when he gently pulls you off. You look at him without understanding, pouting like a child who just got denied a tasty candy.

“What you are doing with your mouth is delightful, cha’cah. But I want my cock inside your pussy as soon as possible.” He rasps.

You open your eyes wide.

In your pussy? No way.

You’re already so sore, he can’t be serious.

“Thrawn…” you whine “I can’t take another one…” 

He gently pushes you back on the mattress, following you with a smirk.

“Of course you can, cha’cah. You are a big girl, you can take it and more. I trust you.” he licks and kisses your neck, weighing heavy on your more petite figure. You feel so safe under his warm, hot body.

He circles your waist with his arms and rolls on the side, pulling you on top of him.

“Ride me, my love. Take control.” He instructs.

You feel his dick poking at the plumpness of your ass, hard as a rock. You cry, your legs are already trembling, you don’t know if you can even ride him properly. You sigh and tiredly raise from your laying position to grasp him and align him with your sex. You ease yourself slowly on him, opening your mouth round at the full sensation. 

Maker, he’s big! You forgot how much.

You’re stuffed to the brim, you can’t take more. His hands come caressing your waist to ease your muscles.

“You are doing great, cha’cah. Ride me as you please, what you want I will give.” He praises you. 

You rise up and go down slowly, letting your slick act as a lubricant and it’s hardly a luxury given his girth. You breathe deeply through your nose and continue to ride him slowly, making circling motion with your hips. He can reach every spot with ease, you feel his tip brushing your cervix, deep inside you. You moan his name pathetically, your legs are barely working and you have difficulty raising your own weight on his shaft.

“Maker, were you always so tight?” he gasps with gleaming eyes.

You ride him sloppily as best you can, with Thrawn seizing your waist to help your motion, caressing you with his thumbs. He starts rutting into you delicately, but you can feel his eagerness bubbling under his skin. Despite that he respects the pace you choose. 

When you reach the end of your rope you fall on him, gasping for air. He hugs you tight, kissing the top of your head while rutting deep inside you, one hand between your two bodies to caress your clit. You can’t move anymore, you really should work on your stamina, you think with a tired smile, letting him work. Your sore pussy is stretched to the max, your pussylips are all swollen and your abused clit is all puffy and nervous. You feel your inner muscle working to welcome his cock deep inside you, so much you feel waves in your stomach. His veiny shaft stretches you deliciously. 

“Can I take the lead?” He softly asks.

You nod with a mumble, exhausted.

He makes you roll swiftly, getting on top of you again and installs a breakneck pace all of the sudden. He knocks the air out of your lungs, hitting your cervix with ease.

“Ha! Thrawn!” You manage to speak between two powerful thrusts.

“Hold on to me, cha’cah.” He indicates, panting, pressing himself against you and merely suffocating you.

Your head hits the headboard repeatedly, as you hold on to Thrawn for dear life. The scent of sex and his musk makes your head spin and the obscene noises of flesh hitting flesh resonate in the bedroom in an obsessing fashion. You gasp and mewls and whimper and sob, digging your nails in his large shoulders, his imposing figure shielding you completely. You let your gaze travel south and see how his cock disappears inside your body, a creamy O at the base of his shaft.

He rolls his hips like a jackhammer, pushing you into the mattress like it was nothing. You fear the bed will break, it’s clearly not made to bear such activities. 

“It is so good, cha’cah. It is better than in my memories. Is it good for you too?” he asks, biting your lower lips.

“Yes, yes, yes…” you can only chant.

He plunges into you with force, at this point you’re more of a fleshlight he uses than an active participant. But you’re so exhausted, and the pleasure you feel is so great it stiffen your limbs, preventing you from moving. You feel your poor pussy getting abused, hit repeatedly by his mighty hips. 

Despite his age, he really still got it.

It transports you back in time, with your younger self making love all night long, with him nuzzling against you, begging for another round while you just layed barely moving from exhaustion. In some way it is still the same, your older self just lasted less time.

You feel your pussy clenching on his cock again, and you just know you completely soaked up the sheets. You feel your slick and his pre-cum leaking of your cunny, running along your tight ass.

He holds your cheek tenderly and kisses you feverishly, muffling your mewls with his soft lips. His tongue comes to hug yours, languidly.

You cry his name as you cum again, seeing stars behind your closed eyes, tensing around his dick like it is trying to hold it deep inside, he kisses your cheek, purring loudly, clearly satisfied by his work.

His hips start jerking and moving erratically until he freezes, completely contracted, spurting long hot ribbons of seed in you. Your pussy milks him dry for all his worth.

He peppers your face with kisses, as you try to get back your breath.

“Can I remain inside? I want to enjoy you as long as I can.” he whispers in your ear.

You slowly nod, repressing a yawn.

He slides on the side, hugging you tight. You snuggle against him, your head against his beating heart.

“It was grandiose, was it not, cha’cah?” he kisses your forehead “I could go for another round if you wish?”

 You hide your face in his chest with a pathetic whine.

“Alright.” He chuckles, “as you wish, my love." 

You remain silent for long minutes, only listening to each other breathing. You draw circle on his wide chest with the tip of your finger before taking the floor. 

"You're gonna find it stupid, but I was afraid you'd find someone else." You let out. 

"Nobody could have taken your place, you are unique in my heart." Thrawn whispers back. 

"Yet when Enoch refused me access to the Chimaera I thought our time was over." You turn your head to meet his gaze. 

His hand comes grazing your cheek. 

"I had to do… reforms to keep my troops alive. It was not against you. I will warn Enoch to give you free access to the ship first thing in the morning." He comforts you. 

You pull the cover a bit over the both of you, thinking.

"I don't like Morgan." you let out "I don't trust her."

"Me neither. But she is a necessary evil to my plans."

"Necessary to the point of isolating yourself with her for hours?"

He gives you a sidelong glance with a smirk.

"Did you become jealous during those ten years?" he asks, amused.

"Yes, terribly. I want to know what you do with her." you demand.

"We simply planned our next campaign. I would like your opinion on some moves tomorrow, I trust your strategic abilities more than hers." He boops your nose and you wince exaggeratedly.

You remember the long hours you used to spend together, strategizing carefully each move, he asked your advices regularly, taking your opinions and suggestions very seriously despite his genius. You ended up sleeping at your desk several time but he would carry you to your shared bed and hug you tight... Those were simpler, nicer times.

You smile, looking in his magnificent red eyes. 

"I love you, Thrawn." you murmur, eyes heavy with sleep. 

"I love you, Ch'acah." He kisses your forehead "Sleep well."

@thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @bluechiss

[happypotato48]

Wandee Goodday EP 2 Unhinged Tangent Thoughts

"Previously on Wandee Goodday Z. Doctor Wandee set his eyes on Mr. perfect Doctor Ter, but before the battle even starts our hero Dee got hit with the "I only like women." now after humiliated defeat, Dee rise up to meet his new challenger Yor-yak Phadetseuk. can our hero finally get to taste delicious victory or it he going to forever be consign to life of vanillaness. find out in this episode of Wandee Goodday Z!"

To zab or not to zab? an age old question, asks to themself by every repressed Homos that ever live.

Bitch! you just got offered free dick. and this hunk of a dick nonetheless. get off your high horse and go ride this bull of a man instead!

So you people probably figured this out by now. but yes Fluke is a really poppular thai boy name for millennials and gen z. i literally knew like 10+ different Flukes form just my school days alone.

Cher can you share your man with me. pretty please 🥺

Fuck you! how dare you wink your god dang eyebrow like that! เห็นใจคนไม่มีผัวหน่อยสิครับ.

Eyebrows!

Men, can't kill them, can't live without them.

Ok wtf, how is this dumb horny show give me the feels right now. Ohhhh those eyes, god damn those eyes. it's like staring into a hazy morning field touched by a gentle first daylight. i wish i could get lost in them forever..... anyway Hot man me likey!

I don't go there but Yak fursuit game is weak. forking amature smh.

Tank tops! hubba hubba. thank you show for putting all the men in tank tops. i will forever be in your debt.

No thank you. i really don't like this trope of a character getting saves from sa that so prevalent in BL and romance genre in general.

This man is a husband material, Dee. you better not break this poor man's heart. or i swear to all the lords of hell, i will bring down calamity on your ass.

Oh hello stereotypical gossipy gay. your kind was one of the first queer representations we got on thai tv. you walked so these BL boys could run, thank you for your service.

He's so beautiful. i love him and his magnificent eyebrows so much.

Cool grandma! i love her style so much. also loved that she asked Dee how the hell he still can't find a man. freaking savage.

จะเอาหัวเอาหางหรือจะเอากลางตลอดตัว ก็ได้จ่ะ.

"Moan harder" and "play with that longer" i'm fucking dead. this is so hot! ahhhh yessss i love this so much. this is how you do sexy. other BLs take some fucking notes!

This is so fucking tender. my heart is melted.

Oh my, this Ep whewwww. the tenderness expressed by Yak is something that i didn't know i needed, but i'm 100% loving every goddamn second of it. Great is such a great actor (pun intended.) and this version of Yak is already better than his book counterpart.

[kitausuret]

Flash Thompson Venom Recs

@vulpinesaint asked for some recommendations on getting into Flash-as-Venom, so I decided to put together a little guide. Mind you, this is geared towards already having familiarity with Eddie, and of course by extension the Venom Symbiote.

Now -- let me start by saying it may be helpful to see first where it all started going downhill for Eddie and the Symbiote (because we don't get to other hosts until after their breakup). Are any of those comics good? Not really!

But If you really wanted to you could check out Spectacular Spider-Man (2003, Jenkins/Ramos) #1-5 and Marvel Knights Spider-Man (2004, Millar/Cho) #5-12 or thereabouts, which will take you through the official breakup, Angelo Fortunato, and the introduction of Mac Gargan.

For a little taste of what the symbiote had been up to before Chosen Blond Man #2, I also recommend Dark Reign: Sinister Spider-Man (2009, Reed/Bachalo) #1-4 and Siege: Spider-Man (Reed/Santucci, one-shot, just because it's funny).

At the risk of being controversial I also rec the fabulous "New Ways to Die" arc (Amazing Spider-Man #568-573, Slott/Romita Jr.) for a peek at what's going on with Eddie during this time.

If you'd like a primer on Flash Thompson before you jump into Symbiote nonsense, you can check out Amazing Spider-Man #574, which is not a great issue but it is helpful to see what was going on with him. I also recommend the Amazing Spider-Man #622 B story "Stages of Grief" which IS really good and delightful.

Flash officially kicks off as Agent Venom in Amazing Spider-Man #654-654.1 (really -- there's a point-one issue). It's written by Dan Slott so it's not, you know, great, but if you've read Venom Inc. you know what to expect.

Venom (2011) is the real meat of Flash's time. He's kind of silly, as you can see, but for the most part I enjoyed this series. Does it have problems? Sure, but it's worth a read.. The first part (#1-27.1) is written by Rick Remender, and the second (#28-42) is by Cullen Bunn. The latter is, at least in my experience, better-loved for its introduction of Mania in #38, but they are both worth reading.

My personal highlights are: #2 (very good Flash/Symby at the end) #6-8 (Spider-Island tie-ins, you get to see what Eddie is up to) #13-14 (Circle of Four!!!) #17-22 (Savage Six, more fun with Eddie) #33-36 (esPECIALLY #35 oh my god #35 is everything to me. I'm normal don't look at me) #38-42 (Mania -- need I say more?)

I would also be remiss to leave out Superior Spider-Man (2013) #22-25 because while the story is.. meh..?? ...it does have some great Flash/Symby. I would live for them.

Agent Venom additionally appears in Secret Avengers (2010) and Thunderbolts (2013), but all I can really recommend here is the T-bolts Annual. It's a fun one.

And now we get into Cosmic Bullshit Shenanigans!

Flash and the Symbiote join up with the Guardians of the Galaxy (2013, Bendis) in #14, but are officially introduced in the Free Comic Book Day GotG special. My only recommendations here are #21-23, but they're big recommendations.

Once you've read #23, you can jump right into Venom: Space Knight #1-13 (R. Thompson), which is by FAR my favourite Venom series of all time and I'm not even joking. I can't even express how much I adore this series. WOMEN. I LOVE WOMEN. Just. Just read it. And then cry that it's only 13 issues

And from there, you know how it ends if you read Venom #150. Such was the end of Flash's time as Venom, but what a wild ride it was.

now we just need to get eddie on board with a third

If you're curious about Flash's story post-resurrection (he died, if you missed that from the Cates run) you can check out my little guide here, and also the most recent Carnage series by Torunn Grønbekk. What the future holds for Flash Thompson is up in the air (as it always is with Spidey's supporting cast) but I've got to have hope!

Happy reading!

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

Between the Shadow and the Soul║ ⒸⓄⓁⓁⒺⒸⓉⒾⓄⓃⓈ

| Between the Shadow and the Soul | part of the A Savage Place collection ║ series masterlist ║ main masterlist ║

| PAIRING(s): sub!Joel Miller x dom!fem!OC | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 6.4k | CONTENT: exploration of power dynamics, submissive and domination practices, dirty talk, rewards and punishments, pegging (YAY!), some degradation type kink stuff idk, one moment of mommy kink I guess, Joel loves to throw himself a pity party & dom!fem!OC has no interest in letting that fester

| SYNOPSIS: Pegging, but make it therapeutic. And maybe a little romantic?

“It’s right back here,” Chris calls over his shoulder to you. He waves his arm in a wide arc without glancing back, motioning you to the storage area of his shop. 

You follow with barely contained excitement at what awaits.

“Here’s the loot,” he chortles. He reveals the items in question with an abrupt yank on a heavy blanket shrouding it. He gestures broadly at several dingy looking boxes that were hidden beneath.

You peer into the closest one that’s open and can’t help but gasp at the glorious sight before you: a variety of sex toys and intimacy products still in their original packaging. No sun bleaching. No molding. No wear and tear. Almost perfect condition.

“How?!” you practically shriek. “In the back stockroom of some toy shop. Shopping center next to a mall,” Chris readily explains with a shared enthusiasm. “Must’ve been in the middle of unpacking a new shipment or something because most of it was in the box still, like you see it here.”

“But they’re in such good condition!” you marvel.

“Yeah, the stuff closer to the front that wasn’t picked over already was damaged by sunlight or whatever else, but this treasure trove right here was tucked away near the back. Still got some sun and air, but not enough to damage them. I told Alex I officially believe in miracles now,” he snorts.

“Yeah, no kidding!” you laugh with effusive mirth. “I can’t believe this. Seriously. You know how long I’ve been looking for this kind of stuff?!”

“Probably about as long as I have,” he titters gleefully.

“Hey, you have the real thing at home, and I know Alex is hung like a horse based on how he carries himself,” you point out with feigned indignation.

“Yeah yeah, but it’s still fun to have toys!” he retorts with a wistful edge to his voice.

You couldn’t argue with him on that account. You thank the heavens above that Chris and Alex have a soft spot for you after you helped them link up. Alex routinely oversaw more of the specialized patrol missions, and you’d known it in your bones the moment you met Chris that the two of them would hit it off. When you and Alex set out on a 3 day scouting trip all those moons ago, you’d convinced him by the end of it to strike up a conversation with Chris just to “see where things went.” Of course they didn’t even make it through their first outing to get drinks together before they were infatuated with one another.

“And the real thing I have at home was just about as excited as you and me are,” he adds. “Has his eye on a few things, but don’t worry, though. I already old him it was only right that you get first pick.”

You waste no time rummaging through the goods. You snatch up several items you know will serve you well. When your hand hesitates over the packaging of a strap-on harness, Chris lifts a curious brow. You grin and roll your eyes at his silent probing.

“Dare I ask who the special lady is?” he questions in a sing-song voice.

When you purse your lips into a poorly contained smirk, his eyebrows lift into his hairline. “Oh, a special man?”

He eyes the strap harness before looking back at you with a wicked grin. “Okay, I’m not gonna ask about it today, but you WILL be spilling all the details at some point.”

You giggle and agree you’ll eventually share some of the particulars about your “mystery man.” After going through each and every box, you set out with a hefty bag of goods, satisfied with your haul and all the possibilities it facilitated. You could hardly wait to get into all of it and surprise Joel with a few things. You thankfully didn’t have to wait long for an opportunity as it was only a few days later that he was able to meet up at your house.

It had been almost two weeks since you’d been able to spend time together outside of patrols. His mood had shifted into something closer to his previously staunch antagonism, and you weren’t sure if he was dealing with something privately or if he was just sulking over your stringent expectations of his behavior when you were apart. If it was the latter, not being allowed to get yourself off for a little while certainly didn’t warrant such a surly disposition.

Something felt off, though. It wasn’t just the bitter, grouchy temperament that you’d come to know and dismantle over the months you’d been seeing each other. No, there was something else bubbling under the surface. Something more than sexual frustration, although you’re sure that didn’t help.

His sullen knock at the door was the first reminder of the semi-detached doldrum he’d taken to lately. You beckoned him inside and gave several languid kisses along the column of his neck the moment the door closed. Instead of meeting your physical advances, his hands gently wrapped around the span of your back and cupped you closer to him. When he released a ragged sigh, you knew it was going to be one of those times where he needed a little extra tenderness.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Joel drawls in a lazy hum.

“Hey, baby. What’s going on?” You push a few of the graying, curly strands from his forehead, taking the occasion to search his face for any indication of what had him so squarely in the clutches of unrest.

“Just havin’ a time right now with Ellie, is all,” he mumbles after a moment. His eyes focus on your shoulder and collarbones - anywhere but meeting your gaze - but there was a faraway look in them. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask carefully. The topic of Ellie always had the potential to be a sensitive one for Joel, and you had your suspicions for the past couple of weeks that there was some sort of unresolved issue between the two of them.

Joel shook his head gently. “Nah. Not ready.”

You nod and immediately back off the topic. Joel needed a safe place to run to, and you didn’t want to be another thing he was running from.

“Let’s get you cleaned up so I can take care of you today, okay? How does that sound?” you offer in a sultry, low voice.

“Sounds perfect, honey,” he agrees, his shoulders slumping at the pacifying reassurance you always provided.

You help him out of his jacket and boots before guiding him to the bathroom. You turn the shower on and strip him down while it warms up. The growing heat of the water begins to plume into a fog of cloudy steam inside the bathroom.

“Go on and sit,” you shoo him into the shower. You strip yourself and join him. Even with his large frame and broad shoulders, Joel looks so small in this moment, sitting wide legged on the built in shower bench with his head leaning against the wall behind him. You can see just how tired he looks when you’re eye to eye like this.

He appraises your naked body with a wanton, gluttonous fixation. His cock twitches in response to the gains yielded by his unabashed ogling. His hand edges towards where he’s already half-hard, but he doesn’t touch himself yet. Not without your permission.

You take your time angling the showerhead so the outpour of water cascades over his crown and downward between the stretch of sore muscles of his shoulder blades and back. His eyes close with a satisfied groan at the feeling of the heat over his tired, aching body.

You divert some of the water with your hands to douse his upper body. You grab the shampoo off to the side and spurt a small puddle of the rosemary and lavender scented liquid into the cup of your palm.

“You been a good boy?” you gently ease into some teasing. You rub the shampoo between your hands.

“Haven’t got off in over a fuckin’ week, if that’s what you’re askin’,” he snips impatiently.

You balk at his impolite tone. “Well don’t ruin all that now with such a bad attitude,” you chide.

He sighs and drops his shoulders. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking away and grasping his hands together in his lap before looking back up at you with a chastised, contrite expression. He extends a tentative reach and curves his hands around your waist in a meek bid for forgiveness.

“I’ll accept your apology, but don’t test my patience,” you warn.

You lather up the shampoo in his hair and work it over in kneading circles. His brows knit together. His eyes peacefully drift shut. You scratch at the base of his scalp, just where he likes. He lets out a low groan of relief.

“I know you’ve been having a hard time lately, Joel. That’s what I’m here for. I’m here to take care of you, give you what you need. So are you going to be a nice boy for mommy today and let me give you what you need?”

His eyes remain closed as you rinse the suds from his hair.

“Yes, ma’am,” he promises.

“That’s what I like to hear, sweet boy.”

You work up a soapy foam and wash him top to bottom. His cock is soft again by the time you make it down his legs, but there’ll be time for that later. Right now you need to get Joel into a clearer headspace, one with a less turbulent response pattern. You take extra care to wash his feet, knowing he doesn’t ever take the time to really look after them as well as he should. He moans at the kneading motions you rub along the arch of his feet.

“God that feel so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs.

You spend a few extra minutes massaging his knees, never able to forget the day that raider had knocked him down and added even more strain to his already bad joints. When you finally finish working over his muscles and washing him up, you direct the water back and forth to rinse any remaining residue.

Once the final specs of soap have been cleared away with the rush of hot water, you massage his temples and jaw where he endlessly overtaxed the muscles with incessant clenching and grinding - a longstanding bad habit that had made a return as of late. 

He sighs and leans into your palliative hold, letting the hot water wash over his back. His arms circle your middle and hug you closer to him. Sometimes it was sloppy messes, wet kisses, and blood surging between thighs from the moment he came through your door. Other times, like today, it was something more intimate, a give and take. 

He’d nestle himself right into the crag of reprieve and sanctuary you’d cleft into for him. You let him stay there for as long as he wanted, whenever he wanted. It felt good to be needed. It felt gratifying and substantial to guide something broken through the thick of it all and into someplace less fraught with the realities of life. You, too, could escape there right alongside him, swept up in the creation and execution of taking someone into yourself to safeguard and mold into a dulcified, amenable thing.

You cut the water off and wrap a soft towel around Joel’s shoulders. You help him towel dry his hair and upper body before exiting the shower and hug a towel over yourself. Joel drapes another clean towel around his waist and heads for the bedroom. You smile to yourself at the familiar routine that’s already been established between the two of you. As expected, he’s lying over the towels, spread across your bed, as he waits for you to join him.

You grab a clean, oversized t-shirt and pull it on to stave off the chill in the air. You grab the container of lotion from your dresser and head for the bed. Joel watches you with a soft fondness as you climb onto it and straddle him. You take a dab of lotion and rub it into his cheeks and nose.

“Still don’t see why I gotta get this stuff every time I shower over here,” he objects gruffly.

“Because you don’t ever lotion, Joel. Seriously, the only time you ever take care of your skin is when somebody else is forcing you to,” you huff in a laugh. “You’re sexy and all that, but nobody can pull off lizard skin. Not even you.”

He belly laughs at that and runs his palms over your bare thighs as you sit atop him. It’s nice to hear him laugh. You feel proud that you’ve already gotten him this relaxed.

“Besides, I know it feels good to finally get some moisture on this goddamn sandpaper you call skin. It just about drinks up every drop of lotion I’ve got every time I do this,” you point out.

“Mmmm, yeah. Does feel nice,” he admits with a sheepish, lazy grin.

You smile back at him and shake your head. “Silly boy. Already told you that’s what I’m here to do. To make you feel good if you’ve behaved yourself.”

“And, uh… today, do I…” he trails off.

You realize he thinks showering and some light pampering is all he’s getting rewarded with today.

“I mean, I just… you know, after a whole week - OVER a week, actually - of not havin’ any ‘stress relief’, especially when I really coulda used some,” he emphasizes.

“You’re the one that canceled last week,” you remind him pointedly.

“I know, I know. Didn’t want to. Somethin’ with Ellie came up, and … anyway, I didn’t cancel because I wanted to. God knows I’ve been goin’ outta my fuckin’ mind tryna follow your fuckin’ rules,” he gripes.

“Joel Miller, are you pouting because you couldn’t jerk yourself off for a few days?” you taunt.

Joel huffs loudly but doesn’t respond further.

“I asked you a question,” you caution.

He breathes out a weighted puff of air and nervously readjusts his body. “Look, it’s not- I’m not pouting. I just.. I missed bein’ with you, I guess. Needed you, like this,” he admits quietly.

You heave a half-exasperated sigh. It was hard to stay annoyed with him when he got like this. He sometimes put forth a weak effort to regain some of the control in your dynamic, but you could understood how hard it was for someone like Joel to give up control in the first place. If it wasn’t working for him anymore, you might’ve relented, but deep down you both knew he needed the reinforcement and structure you gave him. What you had worked for both of you, even if Joel sometimes tried to self-sabotage.

 “I missed you, too, baby,” you yield. You rub lotion into the rest of his body and watch the rise and fall of his chest start to slow. After a few moments of comfortable silence, Joel shifts again under your touch.

“I guess I just–I dunno. I didn’t know what to expect comin’ over today. Never canceled on you before. Didn’t know if it was gonna be some punishment or somethin’ for it. Didn’t know if I’d done good enough to get rewarded,” he explains stiffly, nervously.

“You know if you follow my rules and obey me, you get rewarded. Why would that change?” you contend.

“I dunno,” he blows out in an exaggerated exhale, staring up at the ceiling. “I guess I just feel like I don’t know much of anythin’ anymore.”

Before Joel could slump any further into his own pity party, you decide to give him the swift kick to the ass you had to dole out every now and then to get him back on track. You lift away from straddling him and place both knees on one side next to his hip. You lean forward, one arm firmly planted beside his head.

“Well then let’s clear it up, Joel,” you hiss. His eyes light up excitedly at your change in tone.

“This–” you grit out, roughly grabbing his soft dick “–belongs to me.”

You slowly stroke him a few times, enjoying the way blood starts rushing to his cock and hardening under your touch. All too avid and supplicant at your directive.

“And you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about what happens to it because that’s for me to decide. Are we clear?” you press.

He lets out a choked moan and nods.

“SAY IT.”

“It’s all yours, sweetheart,” he grinds out with effort.

“What’s mine, Joel?” you push.

“My dick. It’s yours. All yours,” he grits out when your strokes get firmer and faster. Beads of precome start to trickle freely from his swollen tip.

“Mmmmm, that’s right. Glad we could clear that up,” you chuckle humorlessly. Your hand drops lower beneath his balls, garnering a hitched breath and exhilarated stare from Joel. 

“And this little hole is mine, too,” you murmur. You swirl the pad of your middle finger over his asshole and smile when you feel it pucker inward.

Joel swallows harshly and nods in agreement. “S’yours, baby.”

You hum with delight and agreement. “Good boy.”

Joel’s cock jumps at the simple plaudit, and you’re relieved that he’s finally veering away from feeling sorry for himself. “I just love when you obey me, Joel. It means I get to take such good care of you. Give you just what you need.”

You slide off the bed and saunter lazily to your closet where all your new goodies are tucked away. You bring out the opaque plastic container you’d housed them all in after sterilizing and cleaning everything.

“What’s all that?” Joel asks, almost breathless with anticipation.

“Just a few things I picked up,” you respond coyly. “Couldn’t pass them up once I realized I could find new ways to use you.”

Joel emits a needy groan at the possessive and maddeningly vague language around what was going to happen to him at your hand today.

“I’m going to sort through a few things here, and when I turn back around you’d better be on your belly with some pillows beneath you. I want your ass UP and waiting for me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel agrees in a rush. You smile to yourself when you hear his hurried repositioning. You take your time pushing things around the container, tacking a few moments onto the process just to draw out the intoxicating thrill of anticipation.

When you turn and see him splayed out for you just as you commanded, you have to stop yourself from reaching between your legs.

“You’re such a good listener when you’re weak, honey,” you needle. “Haven’t gotten off in over a week, right? So fucking pussy drunk you’ll do whatever I say, just so you can come, huh? Pretty fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck,” Joel hisses under his breath. His cock is rock hard and pressing straight down between his thighs against the pillow. He grinds it pitifully against the pillows propping him up, searching for any sort of relief.

“I’m goin’ outta my fuckin’ mind,” he grates through his teeth. He really does sound pained.

“If you don’t stop complaining, I will find something to shut you up,” you warn him flatly.

“Just fuckin’ need you, baby, please,” he grumbles with a touch more humility.

“Where do you need me, Joel?” you tease.

“Anywhere,” he groans desperately.

You crouch down behind him and run an admiring pass of your hands over his backside. You spread them apart and shoot a hot ball of spit onto the opening in between. Joel jumps and moans at the sensation, and you give him no time to process it further before sliding the flat of your tongue against the glistening wet you spit onto him.

He bucks his hips into the pillows beneath him and lets out a loud, strained moan. He already sounds completely wrecked. You lap gently, delving your tongue inside of his opening every few passes, and settle into a slow rhythm until he relaxes beneath you. You only break away to grab at Joel’s mouth and command for him to spit into your hand. He gives you everything he can gather and makes a mess of your palm. You work the slippery wet over your fingers until they’re coated.

You gently cup and massage his balls while you advance your index finger inch by delicate inch into his taut ring of muscle. You laugh quietly under your breath as you watch your digit get practically swallowed into him without any effort from you.

“Such a needy little hole,” you mock. “Didn’t realize it craved my attention this bad.”

Joel groans and shifts his hips higher for easier access.

“Talk to me, baby. I wanna know how it feels.”

“Mmm, s’g-good. Like it. You make me feel–hnn–so good,” he answers in a stilted gasp.

When you pull out just enough for your fingertip to be all that’s still inside him, Joel’s hips cant backwards towards you, chasing the fill of you. He mumbles something quietly that you don’t catch.

“Speak up,” you reprimand, laying a harsh swat to the flesh of his backside. He jerks forward and moans before repeating himself.

“Fuck – just, maybe could you … just – more?” he asks in a hushed tone.

You exhale a laugh through your nose and spit on your index and middle fingers before gliding them inside. Joel tenses slightly at the added girth, and you rub encouraging circles against the back of his thigh with your free hand.

“You look so good opening up for me like this, baby,” you coo. “I wish you could see yourself spreading around my fingers. So fucking tight, but you’re taking them so well.”

“How can I–” he grunts, cutting himself off as he tries to relax into the intrusion.

“Just breathe through it and know it makes me happy when you take my fingers like this. So proud of you when you open up for me like this.”

It takes a few minutes, but eventually Joel is taking the gentle push and pull of two fingers without any resistance. He’d only ever taken one before today, and you needed to get him more worked up if you wanted to do what you had in mind.

“God that feels fuckin’ weird but so damn good at the same time,” he huffs. 

You can’t help but smile at the hint of confusion in his voice, the mystery of the pleasure his own body holds. The pillow beneath him is smeared with dribbles of precome, and you need to back off for a moment before he comes everywhere. He makes a noise of dissent when you slide your fingers all the way out.

“As much as I love that needy little hole of yours, mine comes first,” you remind him. You wipe your hands and between his thighs with one of the towels from the shower and make your way over to the box of goodies. Joel turns on his side to watch what you have planned for him. You take out the mid sized dildo to gauge his reaction, which turns out to be an almost comical look of panic.

“Don’t get too excited, baby boy. You haven’t earned this one yet,” you tut.

You pull out a bottle of lube that was revived once a little water was added to it and squirt a small amount onto the tip. It wasn’t as big as Joel - and therefore wouldn’t be as satisfying -  but it would do for now in taking care of the throbbing feeling between your legs as well as getting Joel even more worked up and accepting of anything you gave him.

You pull your shirt up and over your head, tossing it carelessly on the floor, as you head over to the bed once more. You kick the pillows to the side and lay on your back beside Joel. He eagerly scoots closer to you and runs his hands up and down the expanse of your body.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful. So fuckin' perfect,” he breathes.

You’ll never get over the earnest admiration in his voice when he compliments you during these quiet, shared moments. The gratitude and reverence in the lilt of his extolling makes your chest feel warm and light.

“Can I help you feel good, too?” he pleads with big eyes.

“Only because you’ve been so good for me.”

He breathes a smile and watches as you slowly insert the toy into your aching core. You sigh at the small but welcomed stretch, working it in and out with a steady rhythm. Joel’s mouth is on your hardened nipples, your neck, your earlobes, your ribcage, your clit. Anywhere and everywhere he can worship you with his mouth. It isn’t long before you’re clenching repeatedly onto the toy. Joel releases the suction of his mouth against your clit to watch the spasm of your muscles.

“God, I could watch that all fuckin’ day,” he muses, staring intently at your pussy as your orgasm starts to ebb away.

You pull the toy out and let him admire the glistening mixture of lube and your slick. You sit up slowly, with Joel mimicking the movement, and offer it to him. “Clean it.”

He quirks an eyebrow and reaches for it, presumably to take it to the bathroom to rinse it off. You grin at his misunderstanding. “With your mouth.”

Joel’s eyes narrow at you for a moment. “You really want me gaggin’ on that stupid thing and pukin’ all over your bed?” he scoffs. 

“Never said that, but if that’s what I wanted then that’s exactly what you’d be doing,” you snip sternly.

Joel’s brow pinches together in a fluid movement before returning to something more neutral. He remains silent, but you notice the way his breath has picked up with the lift and sink of his chest. It was no secret to you that Joel got off on the idea of you commanding every idea, movement, and action of his, yet somehow he still managed to be surprised sometimes by his eagerness to be dominated and subjugated by someone he trusted and knew would never actively seek to harm him.

“On your knees,” you bite. He groans but positions himself as you instructed. You stand on the bed in front of him and hold the toy between your legs, right at his eye level. “Open your mouth and lick this cock clean.”

Joel considers the toy for a moment, a flush of heat gracing his cheeks, before looking back up at you.

“Tongue out, baby boy. Don’t get shy on me now,” you taunt.

He closes his eyes and sticks a sliver of tongue out. He starts grazing a small area near the base but doesn’t seem all that enthusiastic about it.

“You keep your eyes open and on me when you’re licking my cock clean,” you snap with a forceful grab to his hair.

Joel growls at the sudden pull on his scalp but keeps his eyes opened and trained on you.

“Stick it out, wide and flat,” you instruct. Joel complies, jutting his tongue all the way out and wide open for you. “Good boy.” You thrust the toy slowly against the flat of his tongue with a rolling motion of your hips as you use his mouth to clean it. You grow impatient with the task before it’s even halfway cleaned.

“That’s good enough. I’m ready to take that little hole of yours again,” you drawl.

You ignore Joel’s excited breathing as you exchange the toy for the smaller, curved one you made sure wouldn’t be too small to fit the strap harness. It wasn’t what you wanted to see shoving in and out of Joel’s asshole, but you had to start somewhere.

“On your belly, just like before,” you call over your shoulder.

You hear the rustling of Joel positioning himself, eager to please and eager to see what you’re gifting him with next. In the months you’d been exploring this dynamic together, you’d found that Joel liked a constant barrage of unknowns you’d throw at him, only to safely guide him to the other side of it where he’d be trying to catch his breath after being catapulted into yet another overwhelming, blissful climax. There was a thrill to it now for him, one that he hadn’t embraced at first. You can only hope he doesn’t fight you too hard on this one.

You quickly fasten the harness around your waist and legs and attach the small, curved dildo to it. You grab the bottle of lube to take with you back to bed. You spread Joel apart and dribble a cold stream of it onto him, letting it slither down to his hole that’s begging to be filled with you. Your index and middle fingers slide in without resistance. He was so worked up from everything that he was just about ready to take what you had for him.

“Roll over.”

Joel obeys, and you watch with stifled delight as he takes in your get up. His eyes snap up to yours with uncertainty.

“Knees up.”

Joel slowly draws his heels onto the edge of the bed and removes one of the pillows underneath his hips. When you stroke some lube up and down the small toy, something seems to snap in him. He huffs a sigh and drops an arm over his face.

“Joel, you need to use your words if this is something you don’t want,” you assert slowly and firmly. “You know how this works by now. You can’t expect me to know every little thought you have. If you want this to stop, it stops, but you have to tell me.”

“I know that. It’s not that. I trust you, I do–” he sighs, lifting his arm from his face and resting it above his head, “–I’ve just never done this shit before, alright? I’m tryna enjoy it, but that’s kinda hard to do when I’m wonderin’ if I’m gonna be shittin’ weird for the next week or somethin’.”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. You wanted to tell him you’ve taken much bigger without any life-altering results, but you know it would only get the conversation incredibly off course.

“Have I ever hurt you, Joel?” you level at him.

He lets out a deep breath after a moment. “No.”

“Do you think I’d take advantage of this thing we’ve got?”

He shakes his head thoughtfully. “No.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re not referring to me correctly because I know you’re distracted, okay? But you need to trust me if this is going to work. So, you need to decide if you trust me to make you feel good and to take care of you how you need.”

Joel locks eyes with you and nods. “Okay. I trust you.”

“Good. Now put your fucking knees up and say thank you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” Joel obliges.

You grab the base of the toy and guide the tip of it right to his rim. You slowly push inside, studying Joel’s face for any sign of pain. 

“You’re opening up so good for me,” you praise as your gaze settles onto the toy already halfway inside.

“PLEASE CAN I FUCKIN’ TOUCH MY DICK,” Joel chokes out in a gasp.

“Go ahead, baby,” you answer calmly.

Joel grabs his rigid length and strokes himself vigorously. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you push the toy inside him all the way to the hilt. When you draw back out, a broken moan catches in his throat. You watch the pace of his hand up and down his length and mimic the same rhythm. It’s not long before he realizes you’re matching his movements, and his brow tightens and releases with the realization and acceptance of this novel pleasure. 

“There you go. Just how you like it,” you coax softly. You smile as his eagerness intensifies. You love to watch him catch onto things, make these small discoveries about himself. This is a bigger leap than you’ve taken before - and maybe he still needs to be in control somewhat - but that spark of hunger you’ve ignited in him will only grow. You know one day soon he’ll be begging for you to fill him up with the biggest toy you’ve got while he’s on all fours.

You lean down for a moment to give him a slow, gentle kiss. You pull back slightly, rubbing your nose against his for a moment.

“Joel, what happens here - between us - it’s safe. So you can say what you’re dying to say. I see it all over your face how much you want to.”

You pull up and resume the steady thrusting motion from before. Joel’s hands grip the sheets in hard fists by his sides.

“You can say it, Joel. Tell me how much you love getting your tight, needy hole fucked by my cock,” you urge.

“Hrrmmpphh-fuck!–yesss–hnnffff,” he pants. Sweat is gathering in glimmering beads along his hairline and forehead.

“You’ve got such a greedy little hole for me to fuck, don’t you?”

“Gahh–AGH—YES,” he croaks. He’s starting to writhe underneath you. You wrap your hands over his hip bones and thrust harder.

“You know I wanna hear you say it, baby.”

“I–GOD, fuck yes–please,” Joel pants. “I fuckin’ have a — god dammit, such a - have such a greedy little hole I want you to fuck.”

“Yeah, you do, huh?” you chuckle. “I love watching how well you take it. You take my cock so well, Joel. You were just made for me to use.”

“Feels so fuckin’ good, honey,” he moans as you pick up the pace.

The muscles in his stomach begin to tense up, and you watch as it dawns on Joel that he’s coming. His mouth stretches open to a silent scream as his hands fly over top of yours, squeezing and grabbing for something to keep hold of him.

“Oh, fuck yeah. There we go,” you laud as you watch heavy beads of semi-clear white spend dribble from his angry, red tip. 

You fuck him through it, tilting his hips up when they drop so you can keep nudging against his prostate. When you pull out of him, he’s still coming down from what you can only assume is his first prostate orgasm. Just in case he could ever forget how good you make him feel, you want to add on one final novelty.

“Hands and knees,” you instruct coolly.

“I-I can’t,” Joel exhales heavily.

“Hands and knees or it’s two weeks without coming.”

As expected, Joel complies to avoid the punishment. You squirt more lube onto the toy and settle on your back beneath him, once again moving the pillows out of the way with a quick kick. Before you can give him his next instruction, Joel’s mouth is on yours with a heavy, impassioned kiss.

He groans into your mouth, sucking and licking into it as if the oxygen from your lungs is all the air that he has in order to breathe. The intensity and undeniable intimacy of it catches you off guard, and you quickly fall into the movements of his tongue against yours.

Joel pulls away, breathing fast and heavy, with a look of complete deference. “Tell me what you want me to do, baby. Anything. Anything for you. Just tell me, and I’ll do it.”

“Sit on my cock,” you pant, out of breath from the kiss.

Joel clumsily lines himself up with the toy and sinks onto it with a heavy groan.

“Fuck yourself with my cock, and you can come all over these pretty tits,” you goad.

Joel starts jerking himself and grabbing at your breasts. You caress and stroke his balls. He awkwardly rolls his hips until he finds something that works for him, settling on a slow, deep grind. His face quickly contorts to one of imminent release.

“Such a good fucking boy for me today, Joel. So good for me. You wanna come all over my tits, baby? Make me all messy with your come? Give me something to taste?” you ask in a sickly sweet voice.

“FUCK, yeah–yes, baby, fuck yeah I do, so fuckin’ bad,” he rasps.

You take a free hand to pinch one of his nipples, and he jerks forward with a moan. You watch the small space where he lifts himself from the toy as he grinds against it.

“Keep going. Taking my cock so good. You look so perfect spreading open for me like that,” you spur him on.

You keep a steady, massaging motion on his balls as you open your mouth wide for him. You make a playful, teasing moaning noise beneath him, wordlessly begging for him to come all over you.

Joel’s hips stutter with a hitched whimper as hot white ropes start to erupt all over your chest and face. He falters forward, catching himself with his free hand against the mattress at the last moment.

“FUCK! Got my fuckin’–christ almi–FUCK,” he groans as the last bit of his spend lands with a soft splat onto your belly.

He lifts himself off the toy and slumps into a heap halfway over your body. He doesn’t seem to notice or care about the feeling of his come spreading against his skin where his weight bears into you. He slowly catches his breath and opens his eyes to meet yours. You wait, watching him with a satisfied smile. His face is relaxed and open. The grooves and lines of stress and upset are no longer as prominent as they’d been when he first arrived.

He drags a thumb through a half-crusted glob of his spend drying against your cheek and brings it to your lips. You open your mouth and suck on it. He scrapes and feeds you the rest of his release from your neck and face. You smile contentedly at the look of sleepy wonder he has for you.

“Don’t know what I did before you,” he muses in a soft hush.

You lean in with a gentle kiss, letting him taste himself on your tongue for a moment, and pull back. “You know we have to get a shower again, right?”

He shuts his eyes and grumbles. “You’re gonna make me use lotion again, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” you laugh as you pull him into a tight embrace.

This is not the last of Joel getting pegged, so please don't fret. Just wanted to explore the *~first time~* for him. Please trust I have every intention of this man getting his cheeks clapped hahaha.

Title is from Pablo Neruda:

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,    or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:    I love you as one loves certain obscure things,    secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

tagging if you requested pegging or if I feel that you are spiritually aligned with Joel Miller getting pegged:

@beelzebeth87 @lvl-2005 @wannab-urs @for-a-longlongtime @toxicanonymity @walkintotheriveranddisappear @munchieforpedropascal @danaispunk @cinnamonpolvera @jupiter-soups @roguedjarin @rav3n-pascal22 @someotherasshole @forestfaeriequeen @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @atticrissfinch

[sidecharactersdomatter]

Thoughts I had during TGCF S2 Ep 4

This’ll be another quick reaction ‘cause I have a desk to clean!

-Oooh!  Starting with the opening!

Previously on TGCF…

-Dim Sum night @ Paradise Manor!

-Man they didn’t even get a sip in

-He reassured Lang Ying

-Dude it was in a really small glass, so maybe it could’ve been to his liking if it wasn’t alcoholic

-Man that expression and tone made it seem like Hua Cheng made a really grave error

That noise when Qingxuan tilted their head

-Qingxuan is the wingman/woman

-For those of you who think he said, “Some sex allow indulgences” in the dub,  it’s actually “Some sects allow indulgences” which references the sects that practice cultivation, and I manage to catch that detail

-Licentious means related to promiscuous and sexual activity.

-A flashback to Ep 2

-That’s the advice on staying balance is basically what every patron ignores in Vegas

-He’s tricking him into getting the information for the dice portal

-“Enough San Lang!  Please stop teasing me.”  *In a sing-song voice*  No he will not~!  And XL said it so gently!!!!

-Man he fell for that favor all too quickly

-Just like transferring spiritual energy

-It’s a 12!

-It’s the music from EP 6 when they were both caught in the sandstorm!!!!

-He offered his dice!!!

-Man, hook line and sinker for XL

-“A few more rounds?” We all know what he was referring to~! ;3

-NYOOOM

-“San Lang, will you ever stop spoiling me?” *In a sing-song voice again*  No he will not~!

-Aww he doesn’t want to take advantage of his Ghost King

-Hi Qingxuan

-This is like removing your belt and getting into comfier clothes after going to town at a fancy restaurant with your folks

-No thoughts just Buff!Qingxuan, and he’s got great fashion sense

-Details~!  That’s literally all of us watching this!

-Yep told ya he’s got great fashion sense and imagine the montage Windmaster did just to sneak in

-This has the energy of seeing your roommate just pass out in your room of the flat

-Salacious means arousing to appeal to sexual imagination

-“I mean he called you his honored guest in front of everyone” “Jealous~?” - Jake the Dog, Burning Low, Adventure Time

-He didn’t forget at all

-They were talking about luck~

-Man that transition with the dice toss

-A really temporary gift

-Another 12

-That’s a lot of stairs

-Firebending

-No need to be savage Qingxuan

-Just like The dragon of the west, the Martial god of the west somehow has that energy and more foreshadowing for the series

-It looks like a Mayan mural

-No earthbending allowed

-The dice and tunnel are confusing them

-He rolled a 7!  Somebody go get Miguel and Tulio!

-It’s the iconic floor trap pitfall

-They made two craters like Wile E. Coyote!

-Oooh right on the skull!

-It’s a narrow tunnel!

-Cave in!

-LEECH WORMS!  

-Another animal hybrid the people in ATLA will get scared sh*tless over

-More firebending!

-Fire beats bug!

-Well those dice tiles were convenient

-Another 7!

-Another trap door!

-It’s a 4!

-The downside of partnering with Xie Lian everyone

-And he just effortlessly helps up Buff!Qingxuan

-I like how he doesn’t badmouth Hua Cheng’s trickery

I’m gonna to skip this next part of the EP because it’s offensive!  (You know the part I’m talking ‘bout)

-That’s gonna be another visit to the exfoliating facial masks

-Welcome to XL’s pain dude

-Dude, you didn’t bring him bad luck at all, he didn’t realize and it’s out of both of your control

-One man can’t sway the Windmaster’s luck, that gonna be another iconic quote

-Get yourself a friend like Qingxuan

-Yay another conveniently placed dice tile!

-Another 12

-Man the whiplash Qingxuan has going from saying ‘San Lang’ to ‘Hua Cheng’ when he got exasperated

-This took place in a time before the Step counter was invented

-*hears Ming Yi speak*  OH NO HE’S HOT!!!

-He melted the metal shackles

-This has the energy of the cheerleader being close with the goth girl but masculine

-From EP 11

-Yep it’s exactly like the popular girl trying to befriend the goth

-And he already knows they’re close!

-And Ming Yi just sleeps to not talk to anyone, valid

-What was the number he just rolled

-Another floor trap

-He didn’t land in his lap like in the novel and man Hua Cheng

-Boo Chinese Censorship! BOO!!! (Rotten tomatoes)

*Hua Cheng gasps in demi* *wink wink*

That’s all for the reaction post, I gotta get back to cleaning me and my sister’s room

[brucewaynehater101]

adding to my last ask, the rest of the album is so similar to the Batfam

Loves like Ghosts - Batcat or BruTalia

Until the Night Turns - Dick (the vibes esp)

Dead Man’s Hand - Jason

-> pretty obvious why 💀. I see it as Jason talking abt his old self with the “tired of a life that never felt like his” line

Hurricane (Johnnie’s theme) - Dick, Jason, and Steph(Cass)

-> I mostly saw it as Stephcass but there were definitely lyrics that applied to Dick (thrill) and Jason (dying lol)

La Bella Fleur Sauvage - DickBabs

The World Ender - Steph (with the romantic lines being shaded between Cass and Gotham) or Jason (with the romantic lines being completely abour Gotham)

-> I feel like it fits Jason better bc it’s literlaky abour being back from the grave but alas

Meet Me in the Woods - Tim(Bern)

The Yawning Grave - ALFRED AND BRUCE ALFRESH AND BRUCE. This is so important to me omg

Cursed - where “she” is Gotham and the speaker is any of the Batfam (sans Cass I think)

Way out There - Damian (“I’m just wearing old bones from those who came first”) (“you” being Dick) or StephCass from Cass’s pov

The Night We Met - the BatSiblings (sans Duke bc he wasn’t adopted yet) during Bruce’s death

There weren’t any I could connect to Duke specifically but yeah 😞

Loves Like Ghost definitely gives of Talia to Bruce vibes. The lyrics of "what ain't living can never really die. You don't want me baby please don't lie. Oh but if you're leaving, I gotta know why." "And if I can't have you then no one ever will." "Baby in my eyes you do no wrong. I don't feel it till it hurts sometimes. So go on baby hurt me tonight."

Until the Night Turns is a cool song. Perhaps you would elaborate more on why you think it fits Dick? The vibes are pretty on, but jot too sure about the lyrics.

Dead Man's Hand does fit Jason. "Sure as hell he was dead as they come and he was already starting to smell. Just a kid with his hair slicked back and a knife tucked into his belt. Was he unforgiven or just tired of living a life that never felt like his?" "I know I'm dead but I don't wanna lie in a grave out here where the coyote's cry. I stared right into the endless void and I ain't going back if I got any choice. I know how to live, I don't know how to die and there ain't no thrills in the afterlife."

Hurricane. I do think that all of the batkids are adrenaline junkies but I do see how the lyrics fit those ones especially.

La Bella Fleur Savage - Google says Fleur means both flower and resilience. I can see how that fits Babs and how the song resembles her love with Dick.

The World Ender - I love this song for Steph. She deserves to get her revenge. She did kind of die with Black Mask, but she didn't really do a revenge thing like Jason. On the other hand she "won't ever feel the embrace of the grave" because she revived before being buried.

Meet Me in the Woods - I see how this is TimBern especially because Bernard isn't in the vigilante business (so he won't really understand what Tim's been through).

The Yawning Grave - Alfred warning Bruce not to become Batman, of its dangers, of the likelihood of him dying, fits so well. He told him when he was a kid, but Bruce still went down with this path

Cursed - I agree that Cass isn't tied to Gotham like the others. If "she" was Gotham, that does fit the others. I raise you, though. What if "she" was their mission or vigilantism? That then fits all of them.

Way out There - Oof. That definitely fits Damian and I love that analysis of him.

The Night We Met - I agree, however, there's a tik tok that has an animation of this song. It absolutely kills my soul every time I see it. It has Bruce singing this about Jason: "I had all," Jason as Robin, "and then most of you," Jason dying, "some and," Jason's grave, "now none of you," Jason as Red Hood. "Take me back to the night we met." The tire jacking night.

We definitely need some Duke songs out there. If anyone has any songs that fit Duke, feel free to comment or reblog with them!!!!

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

✧₊⁺ Dance with Me ✧₊⁺

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x OC (Astraea)

A drabble from Wisdom In The Stars

Author's Note: I am aware that there was a xenos in 40k already called Nephilim. Astraea is not from that species, merely, they just happen to have the same name.

Quick pro quo on drabbles in this work:

This is all very self-indulgent and I will not apologize. If the Grimdark can be extra, so can I!

Bobby G's love interest is a xenos of my making, so they are as long-lived as him, but not a perpetual.

Again mad self-indulgent. Oozing copium by the ton

Rowboat Guillotine deserves a happy life and some damn peace

So many Primarchs are going to be back in some drabbles. Again no fucks given

Proofread? Never heard of her

Warnings: G-Money has some very slight nsfw thought at the end. Very slight. That's it.

18+ Minors DNI

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

To ally with Xenos, was a heretical thing, no matter the circumstances. No matter how much they needed that help. Guilliman knew the practical approach was swiftly dealing with those who opposed him. However, this might have been a push against the church too hard. Roboute was prepared for a bloody response. Yet, Astraea refused such things. Refused to just cut them all down to ensure ease. While she seemed as disgusted by the ecclesiarchy as him, she seemed to pity them more than anything. Something Roboute felt was far worse.

So to smooth things out, She and some of her people, diplomats, historians, and entertainers, attended a gathering to celebrate this new alliance, and hopefully, an even better Imperium as they set off to help their cut-off brothers and sisters. Roboute suspected some of her Seraphem and Maidens of Valor were among those attending. Hiding among them should things go poorly.

He could not express enough that Astraea agreeing to have this alliance look like her people were offering to serve under the Imperium made things easier, and he was forever thankful. Once he would have forced this kind of thing. Xenos as equals? A morbid thought. But now? A thinly veiled lie to keep the peace. One her people willingly were taking the short end for.

How in the time he had spent with her, traveling back to Terra, and planning all that is happening and to come, she swayed his mind like nothing ever could. Like a spell she was weaving, and he still felt she might be. How her opinion so quickly grew to carry more and more weight. Or how his eyes started to yern to gaze upon her. Her ability to rule, but stay humble. To honor he duty but find time to be selfish; it was a skill he was never allowed to have.

She made him look inward, something he dared not do. Roboute always feared what he might learn about himself. What truths lay there waiting to be found. But she had shown him hers, and the image of what she forsook for the weaker image before him, still haunted his mind. There were things greater than chaos and they cared not for what was beneath them.

Roboute Guilliman listened idly to some nobles about how Astraea's people's ships translated into real space and in such time. He oped this proved without words, that an alliance was better than them being an enemy. They thought the Imperium had impressive tech? These people made all of man still look like cave dwellers at times. But among the crowd of dull faces and nameless people of petty importance, he saw her enter.

No call of her arrival, nothing. Just her moving ever so gracefully among the sea of sycophants. All her people were catching eyes. They were taller than baseline humans, and their eyes both drew people in and made them uneasy. But her, oh Throne her...

She was resplendent, the beauty of a thousand stars captured in a mortal body. The terrifying beauty, the savage grace. How the fabric of her dress moved and clung so rightly to her, draped in the right ways to extenuate what Roboute Guilliman was gazing upon was the manifesting of terrible beauty in the real.

The thin fabric of the palest blue, shimmering so slightly as if some of the stars that made her fell upon her dress. Delicate silver chains hung from her with gemstones, some looking as if galaxies rested in them. Perhaps there was? The crown upon her head was like a sunburst and the way the lighting caught it was just as awe-inspiring.

Oh normally he would find such decadence too much. Obscene even; reminding him too much of Fulgrim. But her? It was a show of what was condensed inside that soul; heavenly beauty. All of them did. Moving with a unnatural grace and motions of a soul not used to it's body. Their luminous attire catching the eye of all.

As music played it became an interesting spectical of the Nephilium dancing to Terran music, in their many cultural ways; followed my humans over taking the floor and dancing. Like they were waves taking turns to move upon the shore. Though some humans did arrive with the Nephilium, a bridge between as it were. It would seem some human colonies were lost during the Age of Strife and some were saved from breeding planets. Something The Lord Regnant did not know existed. Something when he could, he planned to deal with personally.

“Odd, I thought the Lord Regent would be swarming with people, or at least out partaking in the the festivities. After all it is for your name, yes? Your impending victory.”

Astraea's voice even among all this noise was a calm river, who's waters when they touched his eardrums lulled him into a sense of ease. Oh the power she weaved by just existing. Just like a god, he thought dangerously. He hadn't noticed the noble that was rambling at him had left; he gotten so lost in his own head.

“They are all afraid of me,” Roboute answered, “Afraid of me, and too awestruck to dare approach me without need.” he knew the micro hint of sadness in his voice that was unavoidable was picked up on by her. Nothing seemed to pass by her notice, not even the slightest change of breathing, how a heart beat. The micro expressions of being a creature of feelings. All were laid bare before her, and the other methuselah. Roboute wondered if among those in attendance there were others. Astraea done well to keep the others a secret for now.

While deep down he felt alone, tired of being put so high up none dared to even look upon him; he was almost glad. It meant there was less of him hearing the putrid spew of their false religion and deification of him.

“And I do not dance.” he added.

Astraea craned a brow, “Do not dance, or do not know how?”

Roboute scoffed and feigned some level of offense, “My lady I will have you know I am the son of Konor Guilliman. I know how to dance, and all the pleasantries one is expected to have when at a gathering such as this,” he gestured to himself, “however, I do not know if you noticed, but my size compared to baseline humans is rather great...I always felt awkward dancing.”

It was hard to dance when your partner was eye level with your crotch. He only tried to dance a few times before he decided he rather face hoards of green skins than that embarrassment again. He wasn't as graceful or charismatic as Sanguinius, or Horus, as much as he hated to think of the latter. So he would start rambling about how dances were not made for one of his size and prattle on about upcoming laws. He would bore his partner to death so they would leave him.

There was a soft touch on his hand. So gentle and delicate he almost didn't notice it, “This is like in your human books, where the heroine or hero take their love interests hand and dance. And they do so like no one is watching.” Astraea said with such an even tone, it made the statement more amusing.

Like she wasn't fully aware what she said, but he knew better.

“Lady Astraea are you asking me to dance?” Guilliman smiled fondly, looking at her hand in his. It was so much smaller, yet held so much more power; he couldn't explain why, but it made his hearts pound.

“I am, is that not clear? We can dance however we like, as awkward as we like. I can show you some dances of my people, then you can blame the awkwardness on being diplomatic.” she offered.

Roboute knelt down and kissed her hand, “My Lady it would be my honor to share a dance with you. But tell me,” he spoke low now, “Am I your love interest in this book?”

His eyes widened with shock, was Astraea blushing? Had he managed to crack the ever cool demeanor of the Methuselah of Undoing? The Great Wakener? Now this was an accomplishment he would hold close to his chest for a while to come he thought.

“I do not know? Is my flirting working? This is how humans flirt, yes? If it is not I would prefer you act as if none of this happened. As I promised I would not manipulate your mind, so I will not make you forget. But believe it or not, I have not learned in my long years to handle rejection of this kind.”

Though he words were in the same steady cadence she always had, the red on her cheeks was spreading, betraying the mask of otherworldlyness. It gave her a more...human look.

“You are flirting?” Guilliman was genuinely surprised.

Yes, he had read how he was described in some records, seen the many statues. Heard whispers of those who thought his ears wouldn't hear. But if he found these things to be true, he was not so certain. And no one to his knowledge ever flirted with him. Too afraid, or figured he was beyond them. What was this bubbling feeling in his chest? Was his hearts okay? It couldn't be magic. The primarch would give credit, that Astraea seemed to hold her word true, and did not interfere with his mind or anyone's in the Imperium unless he asked. Perhaps, it was effects from his battles with his traitor brothers?

“Like I said only if it is working. I do not wish to shame us both.”

Roboute smiled, and decided to take the lead, bringing them both out onto the floor. Oh how the whispers went wild. Like sharp hissing of a pit of snakes. But he tuned them out; he had to if he wanted to enjoy this fleeting moment. This little blip in his life for himself.

“I did not know you could be embarrassed.” he continued as he turned to face her and take her other hand.

“You have not answered me.” was her only response.

“I cannot right answer right now, I am afraid. I will be honest, I am not ready for the answer I want to give.” it was an honest answer. It was not the one he wanted to give, but he would not lie. Couldn't lie. And Thorne he wanted to be a little selfish.

Astraea smiled and bowed her head, “Well, it is not a no.”

“Exactly, so this dance...” he asked, they were now out on the floor, and eyes were upon them. Glaring and judging. Picking apart every move, every expression. It must be driving them all mad to see this xenos had him truly smiling. Had their demigod belittling himself human novelties and joys.

“All you do is try to compliment the move you think I am about to do, and I do the same for you. It is a dance many young couples do, and eventually it just becomes their dance. It becomes ever more graceful as they grow together.”

That was such a beautiful idea, and this allowed him to use his brain for something more creative, yet still just as strategic. He had to guess her move, as it was happening and make sure he could match it in kind with a good gesture. Make the dance beautiful and uniquely theirs. Oh this was more exciting then just repeating the same steps as everyone else.

“Very well, let us begin.”

Perhaps he should be a bit more surprised how easily his mind switched from all the theoreticals and practicals thinking of running an Imperium, and war strategies, to figuring out every possible move he could guess she could make while they danced, when he only had one hand, when he had move. When she moved to the left or right. The sacred geometry of it all, their movements poetry being written. Co authors of book of secrets and hidden truths. How she wheeled and pun and he glided across the floor.

It was as if they were dancing among the stars, just them, in one glorious harmony. He felt light as air, weightless.

Her smile and how she hummed to the score that played. It kept him there in rapture. He wanted to be close to her; closer. Close in a way he couldn't describe. Like if souls were real, he wanted his to melt with hers. To touch someone in a way he never had before. He wanted to be inside her.

The last thought sent a cold chill down his spine, and Fulgrim's cruel words burned into his mind again. How everything he did, everything he felt, he would have to worry that it was bringing him one step closer. Suddenly he felt ill, disgusted with himself. But the score ended then. Everything crashed around him. Sounds returned and suddenly it was all too loud and he didn't want all these eyes on him.

Roboute bowed awkwardly, Astraea looked at him with worry, “Guilliman? Did I offend you somehow?”

“No,” he shook his head, his tone weak, “Just...excuse me. I need air.” was all he chose to say before leaving her standing there alone.