#keep it secret: ask

[dragonofthestone]

@lunaferrous asked:

scars, chronic

scars:  how many scars does my muse have? where are they located on my muse’s body? how did they get them? what do they look like? 

Alright so given his unique body and it's heightened ability to heal you might think that would mean a lack of scars. Quite the opposite in fact, as while his body may does heal faster then the average person and given enough time has a better chance of surviving from potentially fateful wounds it still heals in much the same ways any living creature (barring like magic / anything that can go beyond natural limits like the Philosopher's stone or something)

It does take a little more for his body to form a scar- so something that may leave someone with only a small / faint scar would probably heal up fine with no scarring.

He has a lot of scars,

the most prominent of course being the one over his eye- the how is something that tends to vary depending on verse, typically it's one of the many acquired during his time as a lab rat.

Although in time he had no trouble healing from the injury not even his healing was capable of repairing the damage done to his eye.

The nerves around that side of his face are kinda screwy- there's a few small spots where in he actually has no feeling, while others are a bit more sensitive to touch.

It's not a clean scar to say the least, the skin is patchy and scarring actually makes it hard to hold it all the way open so most of the time he keeps it closed- also because the tear ducts / eyes general ability to keep wet is kinda fucked so keeps it protected/avoids drying out.

(Modern verse- it was an injury recieved when he got caught in the blast of an old detonated mine that killed his little bro)

He's got a lot of scars all over his body, many being quite faint / not as noticeable as others, remains of the many different experiments. Some were from genuine accidents, an experiment gone wrong or results no one had expected. Others were more intentional as part of an experiment with wanting to be able to see the extent of not only what he could heal from but how long it would take. Or simply as a result from wanting to see how he'd react to certain stimuli,

and of course more then once pitting him against another Chimera (or worse Alchemist) to see how he could handle in a fight.

He does have one sizable scar on the back of one of his calves from when he fell out of a tree as a kid and got a rather nasty cut from a tree branch

Slightly less obvious are some faint areas of scarring caused by the Alchemical process. For most alchemy when a transmutation is done that changes the form of something it leaves behind a trace, so why wouldn't the same be true for Chimera? Typically they aren't to noticeable often hidden by fur or feathers, hidden among the textures and patterns of their skin or perhaps in a place most wouldn't notice.

For Tim most of those marks are generally hidden by clothes, the largest and likely most noticeable is on his back near the base of his tail. At a glance it really looks just like a slightly discoloured patch of skin that if touch has a slightly different feel then other parts of his body.

(Do Mental/psychological scars count? He's got a bucket load of those too lol)

chronic: does my muse have any chronic health conditions / illnesses? how do these affect them from day-to-day? 

Coming as a surprise to no one who's spent anytime on this blog (or around Tim) He suffers heavily from Chronic pain, his worst/most problematic areas being his hands, one may commonly see him rubbing his hands usually by the wrist, and back- mostly lower back especially the closer you get to where his tail connects- which in combination with general balance problems is why his posture isn't always great.

But those are just the worst sources of pain and frequently deals with joint and/or muscle pains else where. Such as his eye which sometimes he'll just get bad phantom pains from it- due to the rather messed nerve signals around there.

He's not one to complain about his discomforts whether it be from the innate animal instinct to not show weakness / hide the pain or simply not wanting to cause any one unneeded worry and be a bother. Like a lot of medication, pain management treatments tend to be a gamble on whether or not they'll be of any affect to him, he does tend to respond better to more natural remedies, herbal stuff and the like you know. Heat / warmth go along way to help ease the pain, another reason you'll find him seeking out the warmest spots.

Most days it's manageable enough that even if not pleasant it's at a level he's become accustomed too and can deal with.

One can usually judge his pain levels by how active he's being, less active or less willing to be active assuming there's no other potential outside factors, the more pain he's in that day. If it's really bad he may also come across as a bit snippier then normal and just in general has a lower tolerance for certain things

Storms are no fun and tend to make it worse is frequently when the pain to his eye will flare up too- which does often make him a decent predictor on whether bad weather is coming.

headaches/migraines aren't uncommon for him either.

Pain isn't the only issue,

His other main health problem would be his Chronic insomnia -if not having full Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (I'm hesitant to officially drop the label on him but just various symptoms/signs of it a lot of the things very much apply to him at the very least he's borderline)

Some nights he just won't/can't sleep at all, and when he can/does will often frequently wake up.

Now in part it is once again another trouble created from his Chimeric design, with an internal clock that's more suited to Crepuscular bordering Nocturnal in combination with being an attempt at wanting someone/ a creature that could go without sleep for extended periods. Add on chronic pain plus nightmares and you've got a nest recipe for one sleepless guy, and is why you may frequently find him taking short naps through out the day.

Much like with pain the only truly affective remedy tends to be natural ones, such as drinking Valerian tea.

Has some mild lung problems do to scarring- which again can be attributed to alchemy and his creation process, because forcefully changing something into a form it was never meant to be is damaging (imperfect as it is the Pseudo, half-baked attempt at stone in his body is quite honestly probably the only thing that's saving him/his body from just rejecting itself- like a body rejecting an organ after a transplant)

It doesn't cause him too much problems for the most part- both stamina and endurance are in the above average range but it does take him a bit long to catch his breath and can get winded easier then one might expect. The cold, especially cold, dry air plays havoc with it.

Also affecting his breathing is the fact his heart isn't exactly in the right place, it's sort of pushed more to the right, closer to center of his chest kinda, which creates pressure against his lungs/makes everything else all wonky.

Quite honestly Tim's a medical marvel not for being a Chimera but simply for the fact that he's not dead.

You can probably also add his laundry list of Mental Health issues here too if you want.

#lab report || about tim #illness tw #injury tw #keep it secret: ask #abuse tw #experiment tw #scars tw #Look I've frequently wondered why having an exceptional / superhuman healing has to mean 0 scarring #scars are literally just a way the body heals itself having to pull back together damaged skin #long post #[also undecided but kind like the image of if/when he gets wings there'd be a pair of faint lines on his back from where the emerge] #[part of me thinks it'd be interesting if it was like completely flipped with his heart on the right] #[tim gets hit in the chest; everyone freaking out and he's just.. i'll be okay] #[I should do a sketch of his scars if only to give myself an actual visual to help figure em out]

[kingkatsuki]

Imagine Dynamight going to a school to be interviewed by the little children there, sitting down in one of the chairs in their classroom that is far too small for his hulking form but he sits down in it without complaint as the kids sit down in front of him with crossed legs.

And he loves it, because they have no filter— just like him, and they end up asking him the most blunt questions without hesitation. And some of the questions he’d never usually answer if they were coming from broadcasters or reporters, but he can’t lie to these kids so he keeps responding openly and honestly.

Even when one of the little girls asks “Mister Dynamight, do you have a girlfriend?”

It’s a rumour that’s been circulating for months as the media try to work out who the mysterious woman is in his life (if there even is one!) and it’s confirmed immediately when Bakugou answers with a, “Yeah, I do.”

And as his PR manager is having a meltdown in the corner, Bakugou’s grin is wide when the little boys in the room sound out a simultaneous chorus of “ewwwwwww”

#and he answers more questions about you when they ask #it’s like a world exclusive #and he agrees to show them all a pic of you if they promise to keep it secret🥺 #it’s adorable really #and they’re trying to pick his gauntlets up #and he lets them try on his sparks #sigh #soft bakugou #I was thinking about that stormzy interview #when the little kid asks why he doesn’t like wastemen🥺😭 when they keep our streets clean #I can’t 💕

[introspectivememories]

street interviewer: what's your type?

tim who's just trying to get to work: i have a boyfriend

street interviewer: so what's your type then?

tim: my boyfriend

street interviewer: and what does he look like?

tim who will absolutely gatekeep bernard from the general public: he looks like my boyfriend

street interviewer: so what would you rate me out of 10?

tim: um i can't do that

street interviewer: can't rate me at all?

tim: i can't rate you at all

street interviewer finally realizing that this is going absolutely nowhere: what would you rate your boyfriend out of 10?

tim smiling stupidly: he broke my scale cause he's so beautiful

#this is 100% the way he comes out to gotham btw #also you cannot tell me that gotham doesn't have a bunch of annoying people doing street interviews #cant even walk down the beach without sm1 being like 'for $20 can you tell me your worst secret?' #also that video definitely makes it back to his siblings who mock him endlessly on twt #one of them ends up tagging bear and tim shows up to patrol the next day covered in hickies #this is also sooo jonjay coded btw #jon would 100% do this just in the middle of an interview #some reporter is asking questions and jon keeps going off on tangents about jay #bernard dowd #tim drake #timber #timbern #dc

[eregar]

like, for being largely a plot device character, Raphael presents some interesting characterization. only on a second run-through, after knowing more about him, do you start to realize how profoundly insecure Raphael is and how frequently he gives that away.

in his very first meeting with you, he constantly refers to himself as a 'devil'. he's not a devil. he's a cambion. which is a distinct category of its own and, power-wise, so inconsequential that they're not even considered a part of the devil hierarchy. this means that whatever power and prestige he does have (if he even has any, because the game doesn't really go into devil politics), he only has because his father is Mephistopheles. and he hates his father. yet he also can't help but embody a lesser version of his father. that same theatricality, same princely demeanour, same hoarding of treasures. even his 'red, horns, and wings' form is exactly like Mephistopheles's chosen form. he seems to hate his father because he makes him feel small, yet also undeniably looks up to his father because he uses the exact same facade. and once you notice this, so much of what Raphael does seems incredibly childish. He so desperately wants to be something more than Mephistopheles's cringefail son but can't stop centring his dad in everything that he does.

what a horribly human trait to have.

#bg3 #raphael bg3 #thinking about this because of that one Haarlep line you can get from Speak with Dead #where you ask where Raphael keeps his secrets and Haarlep responds #'hidden behind his vanity' #from Haarlep who knows everything about Raphael? what a lovely double entendre #greg texts

[egophiliac]

I was really in the mood to do some masquerade fanart, but I didn’t feel like coming up with anything original, so here’s some of my favorite (...slightly paraphrased) bits from the first part. I don’t know where it’s going, but it’s pretty fun so far!

also one that isn’t canon except in my heart:

(disclaimer that this is a Joke)

(he is a horrible little rat man, but to be fair, so is everyone else)

(if you don’t like horrible little rat men why are you even playing this game)

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #glorious masquerade #hey rolly is your big secret plan to give malleus the best day ever because so far it's working #he got INVITED to go on a TRIP and his favorite humans are there and there's GARGOYLES #not to mention his special little fancy boy outfit with a special little fancy boy hat that has room for his horns! #round it out with an ice cream social to put a nice button on it #the only downside is that the building is too nice. mal likes his buildings REAL shitty. #he WILL say this to your face. #(this is why he never gets invited anywhere.) #anyway cannot overstate how delightful it is to see jade be like 'i would also like to destroy something' #go for it! indulge that id! #azul doesn't care as long as you keep it to things he's not personally responsible for! #not included but also appreciated: trein spending twenty minutes discussing the care arrangements he made for his cat #then having a tearful goodbye with said cat #(the care arrangements boil down to 'i asked my coworker to feed him') #(crewel is a friend to all animals apparently and that's the most surprising twist so far)

[possibly-not-a-ghost]

Fake Cryptids, Real Ghosts

Ok, so dp x dc/batfam because this AU has me by the throat but what if it's the fake cryptid batfamily AU who never joined the JL.

Just...imagine it. The Batfamily has been protecting Gotham quietly but fiercely by scaring the daylights out of criminals as creatures that go bump in the night. A bit of stage magic, frightening method acting, contortion, a whole language comprised of chirps, growls, and body language, and the best tech possible and you've got a recipe for striking fear into the hearts of everyone.

They've got shrines on the rooftops, vaguely on the JL radar (Cause really, who's gonna believe that Gotham, one of the worst cities has a demon problem? Constantine? Homeboy took one look at Gotham and went Nope.) and they're protected cause any self respecting Gothamite wouldn't go spilling the beans to Outsiders. The Bats keep them safe. Who would believe them anyways?

Enter half dead, half alive Danny Fenton.

Danny Fenton who has a best friend's named Tucker and Sam who find out about the Gotham Cryptids, and go absolutely ham on research because here lies something,a bunch of someone's who are Other. Maybe they're creepy but they're cool and they're Heroes and they help people.

Sure, at first it was an attempt from Sam and Tucker to help their best friend feel less alone in the face of other, more 'normal' heroes and people out there in the world. Maybe they try to further bury the Bats online cause if anyone understands keeping on the down low, it would be Amity Parker's. For awhile, Danny Fenton, sometimes Phantom is simply happy to know he's not alone.

Then he's outed and his sister who's long since been ecto-contaiminated is put at risk there's nowhere that seems safer. Gotham is a chaotic city, even without the Bats factoring in. After all Gotham has (Demons-Spirits-Creatures?) The Bats already. Who would care if a halfa and his sister hide out there? As long as they're respectful of their territory, it'll be fine right? Besides, they've got to warn the Bats anyways about the GIW and government. They're coming after ghosts, who knows if they'll be next? Spooky things have to look out for each other after all.

Cue shenanigans as Phantom who stops hiding all of his creepier traits as a ghost walks up to the Totally Human but Faking it Batman with really thoughtful gifts for all of their shrines (And one fruitcake), no heartbeat and an earnest plea for a safe haven in their Haunt because the Ancients taught him manners and the importance of respecting another entities territory.

#dp x dc #dc #batman #danny fenton #danny phantom #fake cryptid batfam #This has been living rent free in my head for the last week just picture how hysterical it would be #The Batfam in this AU who go about like normal people during the day but are Dramatic Nightmares come nighttime #rook posts stuff #rook writes stuff #kinda #Danny and Jazz being SO RESPECTFUL of the Bats #and while Danny knows they aren't ghosts he never tries to pry because they deserve their secrets #meanwhile in the Batcave Bruce and fam are going nuts because here's a literal dead child asking for a safe haven in Gotham and HOW DOES HE #FILL OUT THE PAPERWORK FOR A DEAD CHILD ALFRED HELP #and when they finally meet Jazz while still being unaware of Danny's Halfa status (He forgot okay? He's used to the ghosts who already Know #cause his sister is alive but we found ancient art depicting Phantom and ok family of choice is a Thing we respect but also what #OR Danny and Jazz try to hide in this AU even from the Bats but honestly all the ideas in my head keep making me snort #fake cryptids real ghosts au

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Solstice, Shana! more Lady Mo or something else genderbendy?

Tony's spent her whole life proving she was good enough to make it in a man's world. Her own father had written her off as a debutante, but he'd let her spend time in his workshop and look over the papers spread over his desk, on his lap or a safe distance away from all the sparks. He probably thought she liked the pictures and the lights.

She builds an engine when she's six years old, her dress torn and stained with grease and and burning with pride as she grins up at her father.

It's the first time Howard ever sees her and, she thinks, when he stops loving her.

Existing in a man's world is different than being a man. She's not allowed to forget, to indulge, she can't ever be anything else any other way than a performance.

Her whole life is a performance, so maybe there's no real difference.

She can wear broad silhouettes and make sure no one calls her Antonia and keep her hair in it's iconic pixie cut have her employees call her sir - ma'am was her mother, she says with a laugh, and god knows she took more after daddy dearest - and she spends so much of her time having dick measuring contests with generals and business rivals and every man that thinks he can put his hands on her that sometimes it's a shock to remember she doesn't have one of her own.

It's not that she doesn't like being a girl, that she doesn't get a thrill out of outrageous dresses and all her soft curves, that she doesn't like at least seeing something of her mother in her mouth and her nose.

It's just that she thinks that she could be something more. That she is something more.

But that sort of things belong to someone who doesn't have her life, her job and her responsibilities and the eyes of the world watching her every move.

~

She doesn't even think about the fact that the armor is a man, narrow hips and broad shoulders and nothing feminine about his cold curves of metal, until Pepper sees it.

Pepper is quiet after, pressing ice to her bruises as she sits by Tony's hips. Her eyes stray to the arc reactor, a diamond of light glowing between her breasts. A circle would have been a more solid matrix but would have required her to get a mastectomy to make it fit.

She's thought about having a smooth chest before, but in the moment when it was an option that she could reasonably provide to the public - a medical device, for her health - she'd balked, and lost a day to redesign to make it something less, something that would fit and not require her to change to too much.

It had felt like a metaphor, or a sermon, as she'd beat sheets of metal until she bled.

Pepper asks, "Is it to protect your identity? So they don't think it's you?"

Tony stares, caught off guard, her mouth open in answer that she hesitates to give because she knows it's a lie. She doesn't like lying to Pepper.

She softens. "Or is it the opposite?"

Tony is sore and exhausted and Obie is acting strangely and Rhodey isn't talking to her (he calls her and he'll call again and again until she picks up, but he won't say a word, will just listen to her breathe to make sure she still is and then hang up like a fucking a coward) and she just killed sort of a lot of people and her weapons are where they shouldn't be and every defense she's built up around this question feels like it's crumbling around her.

"Pepper," she says, then can't bring herself to say anything else.

She doesn't want to lie to her.

"I like the paint job," Pepper says, hand soft where it's gripping her shoulder. Tony hasn't had soft hands since her father loved her.

"I like red," Tony says and Pepper's cheeks turn the same color as her hair.

#identity shenanigans and gender fuckery #my two favorite things #tony keeps her identity as iron man a secret #which totally works #for a while #prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #alexseanchai #avengers

[highhhfiveee]

please i need some dubcon mike schmidt ..,,, like he picks up drunk reader from a party n takes her home n fucks her throat ..,,, ‘you’re so easy to control when you’re all stupid like this’ ..,,, she’s got tears streaming down her face n she’s clawing at his thighs but he just holds her head in place n strokes her hair n tells her how good she’s making him feel ,,

okay okay okay. shiver me fuckin timbers lmaoooo. this is so brothersbestfriend!mike. switched it up a little but i hope you still enjoy! [had this set to post at 12 but tumblr failed me lmao]

sangria

tags: brothersbestfriend!mike, fem!reader, intimate touching, choking, wild dick sucking, deep throating, spitplay, degradation, dubcon (reader is plastered, and while she does consent to be taken advantage of, she is still under the influence); mike is such a protector and i'm starting to think that this is megasub!reader x protector!mike in addition to bbf! [let me know if i missed anything + this has been proofread but there’s always still a chance for mistakes lmao]

link to the original fic, mimosa, here 🍹, and the first part of the finale here, tequila sunrise, here 🍸

okay, so maybeeeeeee you two didn't actually get caught that day.

you’re panting in each other’s faces as you come, clean yourselves off, and exit the shed like your brother's best friend hadn't made you squirt all over the garden tools and pool supplies.

the feeling of mike's come pooling in your bikini bottoms makes you tingly all over again, and you're squirming while you both ease your way back into the fold of cookout attendees, diverting into separate paths so no one can catch onto your attachment; clandestine and kept between the eyes, lips, and bodies of you two only.

you'd wished mike nothing but hell while you were away at school, doing anything you could to get the thought of him out of your head. even though you'd been the one to catch feelings, you never wanted him to have any part of you ever again, restricting him from you.

you'd wanted him erased from the entire galaxy then, but from the cookout forward, nothing excited you more than the thought of being mike’s plaything. you snuck around with him more than you should've; giving him handjobs in the backseat of his car, letting him eat you out in your bedroom with the door open---risky things that made your heart pound with adrenaline and need, a rush to the very end.

you could only get that feeling with mike. it made you sick to your stomach with taboo butterflies, fantasizing about all the ways he could have you thrashing, eyes rolling back, toes curled until your feet cramped.

he'd hooked you on him once again, and this time, he'd decided to go with the flow. he wasn't pursuing anything with anyone else, and feelings had begun to bloom in him. nothing like love, he'd told himself (even though your flirty smile made his heart palpitate before making his dick hard), but like...safeguarding.

you were young, unversed with life, vulnerable; mike could see people taking advantage of you, mistaking your soft, impish act for total naivete. even though he'd hurt you himself, he'd never allow anyone else to treat you that way, or put you in a situation to harm you. there was this urge in him to keep you safe, keep you protected from the mean world that ate girls like you for breakfast.

mukrrrrrrrrrrrr

molwwwwwwwwww

gahdmn i cant tYpe LoL

exhibit a.

y/n are you drunk

….

………..

…………………………….

y/n

4 F R E E dwinks

downnnnnnnnn thw hATCH

pArTyz rool xp

mike's about to ask about your location when your picture floods his screen, phone vibrating in his hand with a call. he answers it with a displeased, "where are you?

"she’s at 8203 harrington circle," someone yells over loud, bass-riddled music and scattered conversations. mike hopes it's a friend of yours, and not a complete stranger. “she was fine, but i think that fourth drink tipped her over!"

mike's been putting on clothes and grabbing for his keys and wallet since your first text message, already sulking to his car as your friend finishes her statement. "stay with her and keep her upright, i'll be there in fifteen."

he can't get rid of the deep scowl etched on his face while he drives, both hands clasped tensely on his wheel at ten and two. he wants you to have fun, of course. he isn't going to tell you not to go to parties, or not to drink---you’re your own person, and he has no right to tell you what you could and couldn't do, but something about you utterly hammered around so many people you probably don't know makes his heart pound against his ribcage with agitation.

harrington circle was a street on a state school campus, one that you'd opted not to go to all that time ago. maybe you'd known some people there, but mike was sure you didn't know your way around, where to go if something went wrong...

he pulls up to a tall, red brick house smack dab in the middle of a cul-de-sac, immediately throwing his car in park and exiting when he sees two girls walking alongside a guy carrying you out the front doorway. he has his hands hooked under your armpits, pushing your boobs together and "covertly" staring at your amplified cleavage as he leads you down the short stone path.

your head lulls back a little, and you're smiling up at the sky with your eyes closed and your cheeks flushed to death. your legs drag under you, and mike's quick to grab for your waist, removing you from that perv's grasp with haste and a grimace.

you droop into him, body leaden with alcohol, and he slides one arm under the back of your knees, bending his own to lift you into a bridal style hold.

you squeal as he turns away from the house, throwing your arms around his neck and dreamily sighing at the way his hands feel carrying you, strong and vigilant and possessive. "mikeeeeeee," you mewl, pulling yourself into him so you can nudge at the column of his throat. your words are slurred almost beyond comprehension, and he commands one of the girls to open the passenger door so he can ease you inside.

he sets you down in the seat, or at least tries to, whispering, "let me go" when you keep your arms wrapped around him. the position has him hunched over, and it hurts his back so badly, but you whimper, "nooooo, want you close" while nearly making him trip and fall across you, splaying his entire body over yours. he smells so good, all warm and musky and mike, and you don’t want to separate from him.

"y/n, please. i wanna get you home," he reaches back to wrench your arms off of him, placing them in your lap and closing the door before you can complain. he walks around the front to the driver's side, monotonously thanking the girl who'd helped you as he grumpily enters the car.

he grabs for your seat belt, stretching it across your torso as he does his own and drives away from the annoyingly illuminated house and party commotion in silence.

you're so gone, but even drunk, it's unsettling to you how quiet mike is, keeping his eyes focused on the road without a hint of a glance or a word to you. his jaw is clenched deeply, and he's stiff as a board against his seat, so opposite from his usual sullen, suave nonchalance. you frown at him, fingering with your strappy, well-tied sandals. "hey, grumpy,"

"not grumpy," you huff at his tone, sour and unwavering, and wiggle your toes as you finally free them from the entrapment of footwear. "i'm fine."

"you've gotten very, very bad at lying," you demur. your head slacks again, but this time against your headrest. you ogle mike through the film in your eyes, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. "mad at me?"

mike writhes in his seat, his jaw muscles flexing at your coy lilt. you know how to manipulate him with your words, sweetening them in just a way that would have mike bending to your will. the way you're gazing at him with your big, unfocused eyes makes him makes him press down on the gas a bit harder.

"i'm not mad," he mutters, all pseudo-nonconfrontational and collected, but you know that he's not telling the truth. something about the circumstances bothers him, and you want to know why. the car comes to a stop at a red light, mike shaking his head as he scrunches his face and rubs his eye with a knuckle. "forget about it."

"i won't. don't like me having fun without you?" he doesn't answer, staring ahead at the empty streets around the two of you. it was so late, nearly 2 am, and it only fuels the exasperation he feels burning in his stomach. he doesn’t like you out here like this, without him to keep you out of harm’s way.

"is it the drinking?" you pout, frustrated with the way he's ignoring you. "i admit, maybe four drinks was overkill, but i feel sooooo good. my body feels like..." you make a subtle buzzing noise, similar to tv static, and cut it off with a giggle, reaching over for one of mike's hands while the light turns green.

you inch it towards your lap, dragging it across the skin of your thigh that skims the end of your skirt, mini and gold and matching with the white corset top you wore. "you should feel."

"y/n..."

"c'mon mike," you pout again, dipping his hand between your opened legs. you let out an astounded moan when his cold fingertips connect with your bare clit, and now he's scowling at the fact that you’re not wearing any panties. he thinks about how many people would keep note of that, combined with your docile, inebriated state, and see it as a way in. it’s clear, with how those drinks have you begging him to ease his fingers into you, caressing your tight, warm walls so he can add another check to "car" on the list of places he's made you squirt. “don't want you to be mad at me anymore."

"i'm not mad at you, y/n," he finally says, fingers still against your skin. you're soaking his seats, the excess of your slick dripping down to the cloth, and he has to pull himself out of thinking about someone else feeling you in this way. his eyes stay low on the road as he continues, "did you know anyone at that party?"

"mhm, like one person." mike sighs, a low grumble in his throat. he pulls his hand away from you, putting all of his attention on driving so he can get home. he just wants you inside, away from the world and in his charge. he doesn't say anything for a long while, eventually taking a deep breath and mumbling, "just want you safe, y/n. i'm glad you called me to come get you. there are bad people out there, and i don’t trust them in situations like this.”

"yeah," you purr, leaning against the center console and resting your head on the side of his seat. "you're my knight in shining armor, hmm? keeping me away from all the bad bad people looking to destroy messed up princesses like me?"

mike side eyes your tone, nearly scolding you for treating it like a joke and not something that could actually happen.

"...that's one way to put it, but seriously—-“

"wanna be destroyed though," you interrupt, unbuckling your seatbelt once he cuts the car off in the driveway. he’s turning to you, dark eyes gazing towards your pouted lips. you're reaching your hand across his lap, massaging it over the press of him in his sweatpants. “especially by you. wanna be your little fucktoy. let you use my messy holes however you want because they're yours."

your filthy mouth and shameless confession have mike turned on and hard and thinking about how you've called your holes his. he's seeing you bent over the couch, stuffed to the hilt with his fingers pressed against your tongue while he smirks down on you, veins coursing with lust. he squeezes at your hand, and says,

"let's get you inside, okay? then we can talk more about my messy fucking holes."

you're dizzy, giving him a big, woozy smile and letting all the craving you feel inside pour out through your glazed over eyes when he swoops you up again, carrying you and your shoes to his front door. your arms are back around his neck, and you're placing soft kisses on his lips, jaw, and chin as he drops your shoes by the entrance and carries you all the way to the couch, settling his body into one of the corners.

you're adjusting yourself on him so your bare mound drips over his thighs, and he's got his hands around your hips again, digging his fingers into your flesh as you mindlessly grind against him. you're still kissing against his lips, so uncoordinated and sloppy, and he pulls on the wispy strands at the nape of your neck, disconnecting you from him so he can leer at you with a look that tells you he will be destroying you tonight, guaranteed. "no panties was really bold of you, baby."

"can’t have panty lines in this skirt," you frown, placing your hands on mike's shoulders for leverage to move on him a bit harsher, eventually grazing them over his back and arms as you do. "not cute."

"but it's really not cute for you to have my holes on display for anyone to have, especially not when you're like this."

"mikey, please,” you coo, hunching down to press wet, suctioned kisses on mike's bare neck and rolling your hips into the weight of him. he feels so good against you, and you're aching, the alcohol sending shocks to your clit with every second of friction. "want you in me or something. no more talking, just use—-.”

"aht, don't rush me. trying to get you to understa---" one of your hands goes from roaming his shoulderblades to placing pressure around his throat, shocking him stiff against the back of the couch.

he doesn't think anyone has ever choked him before, and while his eyes burn at you with frenzied astonishment, you're causing him to have a revelation. his dick pulses against the material of his sweatpants at the feeling of your dainty hand squeezing his throat, and he's reaching to grab your wrist and bring your hand down before he comes all quick like he’s 18 again. you stop him with your other hand, coming in close to his face.

there's such a ferocity in your stare, and he knows that you're not going to let him lecture you all night. you need him to fuck you, need him to do something with you and your drunken arousal.

"are you really gonna keep talking, or would you rather just fuck my throat?" you slide your arms down his back, lips placed by his ear as you whisper, "show me how depraved people really can be when i'm like this."

he knows it's sick, but it doesn't take much past that for mike to have you on all fours beside him on the couch, back arched into a 45 degree angle as you drool all over his lap. you're begging for it, whining about how good he feels in your mouth, and he doesn't want to miss an opportunity to give you something you want, even though you're in this state. he's glad that it's him using you in this scenario, and not someone genuinely looking to hurt you. it's his rationale for giving in to your immoral desires.

you pull away from your mess with a sharp inhale, your jaw trembling as you sit up and give mike an eager, spit-slick smile. your eyes are even more distant than before, and it's almost like you’ve checked out. mike can see all the brashness and attitude you give him on the regular is gone, currently replaced with servitude and the intent to please, nothing less.

"wanna feel you ruin my throat, mike," you rasp, grabbing his dick in your hand and stroking at the soft skin, suckling on his tip as you flash him the hunger you feel inside through a grin. "please."

he's silent, having a quarrel with himself as he takes in your blank, mindless expression. it’s so wrong of him, but you look so pretty like this, and he reaches out to hold your cheek as you pout at him again.

"pleaseeeeee," you whine, tears nearly welling in your eyes. "want you to wreck me, use me however you wanttttt. gonna be your obedient, drunk little whore, do whatever you ask."

mike loses all resolve then, and demands you to drop to your knees in between his own. you're quick to assume the position, letting him put one hand on the back of your head and feed his dick into your throat.

"shouldn't like this," mike mutters, wrapping your hair up into a ponytail with both of his hands, watching you rub his dick over your face after slipping it from your mouth to spit on it. he almost can't take you like this, spacey and pliant and all his to destroy. so drunk and willing and--- "shouldn't let me take advantage of you like this."

your face is stained with tears and spit, streaks of dried liquid overlaying your burning cheeks and swollen lips. the neckline of your top is soaked too, saliva glistening on your chest.

"maybe i wanted it," you muse, winking leisurely as you wrap both of your slim hands around his base, smirking up at him. "maybeeeeeee i went and got plastered cause i knew you’d come get me if i called," you're feeding him into your mouth again, and without warning, mike is holding your head stationary, shoving his hips up into your warm mouth while you gulp every time he hits the opening to your throat. of course you'd do something like this. your admittance makes mike feel a plethora of things, good, bad, ugly, but right now, all he's focused on is making you feel like the toy you wanted to be.

"you're a fucking slut, y/n," he hisses with gritted teeth, throwing his head back as he feels you open up for him, allowing him to raise his hips and sink further into you.

the muscles of your throat flutter around his length, and it makes his toes curl, tangling together in his socks. "only sluts go to a party to get drunk so they can be turned into pretty little fuckdolls later...like being fucking mindless for me, huh?"

"love it, mike," you whimper, laying your tongue flat so his dick can slip in and out of your mouth with less resistance. it's covered in thick spit, a droplet resting on the tip, and mike leans down to collect all of it in his own mouth with a sloppy, obscene kiss, before releasing it all over his pelvis with a groan.

it was a fucking mess, and he loved it. he knew you loved it like this too, and your enjoyment of the raunchiness is reflected in the way you patiently wait for him to plunge his dick in you, eyes twinkling with everything and nothing at the same time.

your hand is moving under your dress, fingers stroking along your sodden walls, but he doesn't care; not when your eyes are rolling back into your skull as his dick infiltrates your throat again, filling the room with a persistent gluckgluckgluck as he rhythmically slams your face into his base.

you're sure you'll have no voice after this, but fuck, will it be worth it. you're basking in every second of this, so happy you decided to go out tonight. you were unexperienced in some ways, but you knew how to get to people, or at least to mike. you could get him to do whatever you wanted under the guise of him being in control, and all it took was a bit of sweetening with your voice, a flutter of your eyelashes and a crooked, "innocent" smile for mike to be wound your finger, abusing your face in a way you shouldn’t have dreamt of. you're running out of breath, and your fingers dig into his thighs with the message, but he ignores you, gripping your hair so that your mouth gently snaps up around him every time he pulls his hips back. the sensation is godly, and mike's not sure if he deserves this really. you'd fallen so hard for him at one point, and he'd crushed your hope to be with him under his thumb, but now you're here, letting him have you like this despite those memories. he's lucky, for whatever force is keeping you in his orbit.

"letting me do this to you while you're fucked up...letting some older guy take your throat like you're just free use...you're not getting into heaven," you laugh around him, forming your mouth into a makeshift smile as he slowly slides you off of him, overstimulated by the ridges of your throat muscles clinging to him. he doesn't want to come on your face, not this time. he wants you to beg for him to come in you, for him to fill you until you're overflowing, leaking down your thighs while he gives you more and more and more and more...

"i know," you mewl, pretty face smeared with saliva and pre-come. "i'll be in hell with you. wouldn't have it any other way." mike sits up, thumbing at your bottom lip and hissing as you unhinge your jaw and suck the tip of it inside. your eyes are getting dimmer by the second, but you're still wanting everything mike can give you.

he won't stop until you say so, and he strangely finds himself buzzing with lust at the thought of you bossing him around for his pleasure and yours. how had you gotten in his head like this?

"go in my room and strip, baby. sit in the middle of the bed and don't move." you're on your feet in a flash, clumsily dashing down the short hall without a look back.

it gives him time to get some towels, a washcloth to clean your face up, some lube, and grab waters for the both of you, thinking about all the ways he's gonna contort you. he might even make you watch in the mirror, make you take in your glassy eyes and lack of autonomy, the way you're letting him, your brother's best friend, have you in such an obscene way.

he cracks the door open with all the items in hand, and scoffs when he sees you naked, but stretched out on the bed, mouth hanging open with soft snores.

he walks over to the edge, dropping the things he's holding onto the comforter and shaking your shoulder softly. "baby," you lurch awake, murmuring "huh?".

you blink the bleariness out of your eyes as he uses one of the towels he brought to wipe off his drenched groin, and he smirks at you. you two are done for the night, and that's fine with him. something about your small figure, safely sprawled against his sheets has him seeing hearts and stars and rainbows and everything else he's tried so hard to push away.

when he's dry, ditching his shirt and boxers, he leans against his headboard, cradling you in his arms and lap as he begins using the washcloth to wipe at the dried spittle on your face. "here," he announces, cracking open a water bottle and bringing it to your lips, tilting it so you're able to get some water between them without much effort.

you swallow the sips he gives softly, wrapping your arms around his neck again. you loved being skin to skin with him, and right now, you felt tranquility.

this is but a fraction of that 100% he wanted to give, you think. something has changed in him, and now he wants to show you care. he still wants you to need him, need him to keep you protected from the world outside while he corrupts you in his own. you want that, too.

"mmmmmmm, you're so boyfriend," you muse, placing pecks on his collarbones as he continues cleaning you up. he's able to maintain a pokerface towards you, wiping at your cheeks with passive strokes, but inside, he feels nothing but chaos. why does he like hearing you call him boyfriend, like having you in his arms like this? why did it all seem to fill a hole in his heart, one he always thought would stay a cavity?

"really do love you, mike," you add, staring at him full on now. you might as well be sober, with your attentive, doe-like eyes. "tried hard not to, but i do."

you've broken him down, so easily, and somehow, he's giving into you with a deep, irrevocable sigh. he has nothing else to do but finally accept the truth.

"me too, y/n. me too."

this was rough for me to write because my brain just couldn't work properly, so i hope it's not the dogshit i think it is lmao hope this satisfies you anon!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf fic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #faire's mike schmidt <3 #faire is writing stuff #josh hutcherson #faire answers asks #this man is sweet and gross and that's hot tbh #like...to ruin someone so close to you....having to keep it secret #lord jesus christ

[horribluh]

hilarious mpreg zosan thought, sanji has a kid that has green hair but its not zoros kid. he has in fact never disclosed who the other father was (choose ur own adventure dead beat dad edition) and his siblings already have amazing technicolour hair so its not outside the realm of possibility for his biological children to also have weird hair colours. but when the kid pops out with green hair everyone immediately connects the dots that hey, doesnt the strawhats first mate that sanji famously doesn't get along with also have green hair? is this why sanji never said who the other father was? hes a fucking dead beat! get his ass!

this misconception integrates into everyones mind bc it makes too much sense to not be true and everyone is suddenly deadset on "protecting sanjis honour" and making zoro "take responsibility"

sanji is screaming crying throwing up disgusted bc no!!! the shitty mosshead is not the father!!! stop saying that!!!! but since he still wont say who the actual father is, everyone is just like its ok sanji, you dont have to defend a deadbeat even if he is your crewmate and sanji has no choice but to kill himself and also zoro for daring to have green hair

when the strawhats show up for sanjis baby shower they also unanimously come to the misunderstanding that sanji and zoro totally boned. franky goes as far as to call the kid mini marimo. brook makes a hundred innuendos, chopper is upset at the implication of them having unsafe sex, and robin alludes to "knowing all along" in a very ambiguous way. usopp is the only one who refuses to connect the dots and he is sanjis favourite strawhat fr. jinbei pats sanji on the back and says he hopes they work through their differences for the sake of their kid. sanji is dying, youre killing him, you're killing your cook

even more shenanigans ensue when zoro shows up 3 whole days late to the baby shower and is gaslit into thinking hes the father by everyone in attendance despite being Pretty Sure that he and sanji never fucked. zeff gives a pretty good shovel talk and nami gives an even better one (debt increment is involved) while zeff nods approvingly behind her and then luffy slingshots in all parents should be married right? and doesnt wait for an answer

anyway, like 2 hours later zosan find themselves standing at a makeshift altar on the thousand sunny, saying their vows. sanji insists to the very end that zoro is not the father so they dont need to get married but alas luffy isnt giving him a choice in this (he wants to eat wedding cake)

to sanjis eternal despair, the kid grows up to really like swords

additional zosan thought, sanji does not help things by shouting "this is all your fault!" the moment he sees zoro. zoro is futher gaslit

#mine #zosan #one piece #love putting them in the funniest scenarios possible #the kid also cant be convinced that zoro isnt their actual father #i think zoro does his whole wandering swordsman thing and sanji has to endure lovelorn husband jokes #angst alternative: zoro is in fact the father but does not remember their one night stand bc he was black out drunk #and sanji refuses to be the only one that remembers their ~night of passion~ and decides to keep the father a secret #luffy forces them to get married anyway #op #this got kinda long oops #dont ask me why the baby shower lasts over 3 days i just think the strawhats party hard and party rock and theyd definitely go all out here #zoro in this is very much embodying this might as well happen

[deerspherestudios]

Hi! Another question, if mychael encountered MC who does tarot reading, how would he react to an eerily acurate tarot reading of his past?

Hmm, I'm not super familiar with tarot readings but with the assumption that it's scarily accurate alluding to his past...

I think he'd feel called out and terrified.

#mushroom oasis vn #mychael ask #hes keeping all his secrets in his chest and you just lay it down with a bunch of cards? #how did you know that? #how did you know ALL OF THAT? #light spoilers #maybe spoilers idk

[svtskneecaps]

dude i fucking love how this server has communication as its premise and built into its fucking core. i fucking love that. bc it's one thing to be like 'this server is about multilingual communication and cultural exchange!!' bc that could present in any NUMBER of ways but like. with the federation and the eggs and a common shared goal they all decided WE ARE A TEAM. and like, ok,

when baghera was sus of jaiden because of the thing when pomme died and jaiden had been the reason baghera left her side for the only time that day, i wasn't even worried. i wasn't worried bc i was like "we just wait. because i know they will TALK TO EACH OTHER." and I WAS RIGHT. TWO DAYS LATER IT WAS ALL CLEARED UP AND BAGHERA WAS HELPING HER OUT WITH CUCURUCHO

and the ordo theoritas is functionally a secret organization. it would be SO EASY to gatekeep the lore, on grounds of "the federation is always watching and anyone could be a spy" and yet the ordo theoritas says that, like bad SAYS THAT, says OUT LOUD, "anyone could be a traitor" and then turns around and goes "hey person i've had a few days' worth of conversations with, here's a detailed rundown of everything we've learned about the island's mysteries, and the secret location of the ordo base". SOFIA was supposed to be secret from everyone, and for a little bit she was. but now like, the ordo theoritas is showing her to everyone. it would be SO EASY to hide things and to gatekeep things but they just. don't do it. here's the supercomputer!!!! don't forget to grab her waystone so you can come back anytime!!!

bad learns something. "i need to tell forever/cellbit/baghera". forever figures out a new way to protect the eggs, and he gets it to everyone within days. cucurucho tries to have a secret conversation and the entire server knows about it almost instantly and there are three people buried in the walls reading the subtitles and giving each other meaningful glances

i love it. i love it. miscommunication plotlines drive me up the fucking wall and the fact that i wasn't even SCARED when jaiden and baghera could easily have angled into an angsty tangled web of that and instead just MET WITH EACH OTHER AND EXPLAINED EVERYTHING AND CLEARED THE AIR ALMOST IMMEDIATELY was so fucking breathtaking. and this is a multilingual server. this is a MULTILINGUAL SERVER. i love it. i love it so much i want to cry. it's a server for communication and people Communicate, it would have been SO EASY to slip into monolingual factions and stick to the familiar but they DIDN'T. they DIDN'T. WE GET TO HAVE A THEORY TABLE WITH SO MANY LANGUAGES SITTING AROUND IT. we get to have conspiracy walls in every language!!!! idk sometimes i forget how fucking CRAZY all this is, like the scale of what they've accomplished

so yea thank you to quackity and the qsmp admins for this, and thank you to the streamers for hearing 'this is about connections' and taking it ENTIRELY to heart, and also thank you to whoever the fuck decided to give quackity's school class the job to look after a fucking egg to learn about parenting. bc holy shit. holy shit.

#qsmp #this is a mess but i keep marvelling at it ever since jaiden's streams #just that. it could have gone to hell. but they TALKED TO EACH OTHER. #and i kept seeing people on tumblr like 'nooo they're dividing them 😭' and i kept thinking in my head: #'it's ok. don't panic. don't worry. they're so good about communicating: roier will say something or jaiden will say something' #'and they'll resolve anything right there and then' #i fucking love it. i fucking love it. there have been cross lingual projects before that didn't breed community like this does #everyone is trying so hard to protect everyone. forever and baghera didn't even trust quackity and they were still trying to protect him #i can't express how much this silly fucking server means to me. i can't explain it #its so good. its so good. i love it so much i swear to god #like i promise you if some of the less active members were to step back online and ask about the lore #they'd get a FULL fuckin rundown of it even though the ordo theoritas is technically a secret society #just immediately #i love it. there may be gaslighting and girlbossing but there is NO gatekeeping #unless we count the french exp farm lmfao #idk idk idk!!!!! it means so much to me i swearrrrrrr #THEY'RE A TEAM YOUR HONOR. THEY!! ARE!!! A TEAM!!! #shut up vic #block game brainrot

[dragonofthestone]

@lunaferrous​ asked

"Ah, Tim! Perfect timing." Just as he was about to walk past, she called out for him to stop, hopefully flagging him down before he was out of earshot. Right then, she had her hands full, sleeves rolled up to her elbows as she kneeled down in front of a large water basin, with a peculiar looking creature sitting in a pool of tepid bath water. The creature was undoubtedly a chimera of some sort, with the head and upper torso of a wolfhound and the hind legs of a reptile. She was scrubbing suds into its mane, making sure she worked it long enough so that it got down to the skin, when at some point she realized that the hose was just out of reach.

"Could you fetch the hose from over there?" She motioned over to the rubber hose hanging on the wall next to him with a tip of her chin, grabbing hold of the creature by the scruff of its neck so it didn't suddenly jump out and splatter soap everywhere.

Humming as he stretched, Timaeus headed outside to enjoy the warm sunny day- quite considering basking out on the roof  to take advantage of it and soak up some sun.

Not taking a hard look Timaeus offered a cursory wave as he approached Luna smiling at the rather sizable dog in the tub, reminded of his own canine companion back home not taking immediate notice of the more reptilian features it possessed until he’d gone past causing him to do a double take.The scent of the soap having apparently helped mask some of it’s unusual scent that normally would have instantly clued him in to the Chimera.

Giving a soft hum his head tilted at the question trying to figure out what a ho-se was looking over in the same direction. With not much else around he walked over lifting up the long rubber tube, pointing at it with the other.

“Um..this?”

#keep it secret: ask #main verse: New body new life #(I forgot I had a tag for this lol) #TIm: wtf is a hose #also he'd love one big doggo lizard chimera #he sees it and is like : oh cute puppy #he'll happily help bathe em and isn't afraid of getting wet

[show-your-fangs]

make a wish, huh? i wish i wish with all my heart for reader to have pissed off her daddy dom in the field. so as a punishment she has to sit on this big man’s shoe while he does paperwork. cockwarming him with her mouth until he decides no matter how bad she’s whining and needing him, that she can rock and get herself off. but only if she listens to him. if not? if she’s a brat and she’s being really really needy?? i do believe that causes for a spanking, don’t you? over his knee, skirt rolled up.. you know. just a wish 😈🙏🏻

Knees | Dom!Aaron Hotchner

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Blurb

Pairing: Dom!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/sub!Reader

Words: 2k

CW: 18+, nsfw, mdni.

Tags/warnings: master!hotch, bunny!reader, established D/s relationship, cockwarming, oral (m receiving), pet names (bunny).

a/n: when Morgan asks for something, you give it to her.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

You swallowed and his entire body tensed up under you. He hissed in disapproval, his darkened gaze almost searing a hole through yours. You couldn’t help it, saliva had been pooling in the corners of your mouth for a few minutes and it was either swallow or let it drip down your throat. And let’s be honest, the latter did not sound as naughty as the former. You knew how he’d react, knew that his cock would twitch at the slight change in pressure, knew that he would know what you were doing. 

You didn’t let his stare scare you. Instead, you returned your own — round, innocent eyes that glistened with tears. It wasn’t that he was hurting you, on the contrary, he was giving you something that you craved yet it was a punishment that he knew was sure to make you lose your mind. His cock in your mouth, warm and heavy on your tongue, thick and hard against your throat. Unmoving, still, agonizing. 

He’d asked you into his office the second the last agent had left for the night. You knew what it was about, knew what awaited you the second he locked the doors and closed the blinds. And fortunately for you, it had not been the professional reprimand that you’d thought.

Unfortunately for you, he had made you strip completely, only allowing you to keep your panties. The cold air made your nipples hard and your skin erupt in goosebumps. He led you down on your knees, your pussy landing on his expensive leather shoe. He was calm and collected as he rolled his desk chair further into his desk, caging you against the wood at your back and his wood at your front.

“Open,” he commanded, and fearing any more repercussions after your major, his words, mild, your words, fuck up in the field, you eagerly did as he asked. A hint of a smile graced his lips as he watched you, an overwhelming sense of pride and satisfaction burning through his body as he unbuckled his belt. It was painfully slow and you were overly eager as you realized what he was commanding you to do. You were about to reach out to help him speed along the process when his eyes darkened in warning, your hands immediately falling against your sides. 

“Color?” he asked, a hint of cockiness in his voice startled you.

“Green, sir,” you replied, the implications of your consent not yet clear.

“Good,” with that he sprung his cock free from his underwear. He was already semi hard, the tip glistened with pre cum and you couldn’t help but salivate at the excitement. “This is not a treat, bunny,” your eyes met his again before he continued. “You are going to take me in your mouth but you may not make me cum, am I understood?”

Oh no. Aaron knew how much you loved to give him head, how you reveled in watching him come undone by your skilled tongue. It was one of the first things he’d learned about you, one of the things he couldn’t believe you liked doing. Which is why he knew that every fiber in your body would light up in protest. You wanted to scream, argue, throw a tantrum — but you didn’t. Instead you simply nodded solemnly. You had done this to yourself and there was no one else to blame.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised and the excitement in your lower belly went up in flames again. “You will be a perfect, still angel until I finish my paperwork, and then we’ll see if you’ve earned the right to get yourself off on my shoe.”

“Thank you, sir.”

And with that he rolled his chair all the way into his desk, one hand around his cock, the other grabbing your chin and pulling you where he wanted you. The movement made your pussy graze against his rough laces and you had to stop yourself from moaning. You could already feel your wetness start to pool and he’d literally done nothing yet. His fingers pressed against your cheeks and your mouth opened on its own, wide and eager, as he placed a third of his length on your tongue. 

You could’ve started crying right then and there, but you didn’t. You would not let him break you that easily. 

“Do you remember how to safe word, bunny?” He asked, he always asked.

You nodded, making your tongue rub against the underside of his length. You tapped his leg once. Yes. “How do you tap out?”

You tapped his leg twice and he rewarded you by patting your cheek, gently at first, but then his pats turned into soft smacks, right against the tip of his cock inside your mouth. He groaned loudly, the sounds slowly making you lose all sense of self as you felt him twitch inside your mouth. 

“Fuck, bunny,” he moaned. “This is going to be a long night.”

And long it was. You had lost track of time. At first you decided to count the seconds, minutes, hours, whatever to distract yourself from moving, from what you actually wanted to do. But it was impossible. Your arms had wrapped around his leg to hold yourself steady, your legs had started to wobble and so you’d given up and fully sat yourself down on his shoe.

You were gone, your brain wasn’t working anymore. All you could think about was the weight of his cock in your mouth and how much you wanted to move. Move your tongue, move your head, move your hands to wrap around his base, move your hips to give yourself some kind of relief.

You swallowed again, this time accidentally, and because of your miscalculation, your flat tongue grazed against his length, making you roll your eyes back in euphoria. You didn’t register as your hips started moving, as your pussy made contact with the rough, uneven surface of his laces, as your wetness drenched his shoe. Your clit grazed against a buckle and you moaned, loudly. That was the final straw. 

Without a word of warning he rolled his chair out, his hands quickly grabbing you under your armpits and effortlessly lifting you from under the desk. Your mind snapped back to reality in an instant. Glazed eyes turned sharp, numbness turned responsive, daze turned into realization. You were about to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, to let the tears fall when he sat you down on his lap, your legs on either side of his own. 

“Sir—”

His palm landed with a smack on your ass, the sting making you whimper. You had learned early on that there were times when he was so overwhelmed that he couldn’t bring himself to verbalize his commands. Instead, he’d gotten into the habit of turning them into action. A single spank was a warning to be quiet, to save whatever groveling — he wasn’t going to listen to it. 

“When I give you a command, I expect you to follow it,” he said, anger lacing every word.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, your head hanging low avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t mean it—”

That made him snap, his right hand landing another smack against your reddening ass as his left tightly grasped your jaw, pulling your head up to face him. 

“Like you didn’t mean to go into that apartment without backup?” 

He was concerned, so much in fact that it was the easiest you’d ever been able to read him. You knew he’d been concerned for you. As your boss, you knew he cared for you. But as your Dom…that was a whole different story. You’d done your best to compartmentalize, to trust the other in your skills and training, to accept that you would both be put in scary situations when out in the field. But right then and there, you knew, you saw. He was terrified.

“Yes,” you breathed, the heavy understanding of your punishment washing over you like ice cold water. “It will not happen again. Sir.”

His eyes bore into yours, searching, but you knew what he would find. You cared too. It wasn’t like you had planned on going in without backup, it was that you both understood that the job came first, that whatever instinct made you follow through, no matter how reckless, had probably been for the best of the case. And as much as you both knew, if it made him feel more comfortable to remind you to be careful in this way, you would let him do it every single time.

“Good girl,” he praised, his lips hovering over yours teasingly. “I think you deserve a treat, don’t you?”

You nodded rapidly, making him smirk. You reveled in it, in his smile, in the warmth that was seeing him experience happiness in whatever form it might take. He gently guided you back to your knees in front of his chair and your eyes lit up.

“Make me cum, bunny,” he sat back down, legs spread open like inviting you to a buffet, chest rising and falling, his white button up straining with each breath.

You wasted no time getting to work, your hands quickly wrapping themselves around the base of his cock. He was still a little slick from your saliva, but it wasn’t enough, so you reached one hand down your panties, fingers eagerly collecting your slick before you slathered it all over his rock hard erection.

“Jesus Christ, bunny,” he groaned as your hands started to move up and down his shaft. Moves calculated, perfectly pressured, expertly avoiding his needy tip. Pre cum started to leak once more and that’s when you couldn’t hold back any longer. Your tongue darted out on its own volition, eagerly rolling around his tip, hungrily drinking him all in. He moaned loudly, his hand wrapping around your hair and pushing you further down against his length. 

You let him, flattening your tongue and opening your throat as you swallowed more and more of his length into your mouth. He stopped at your hand, letting you work your magic then. You wanted him to cum, needed to feel his spend down your throat. Your hands sped up their movements, meeting your mouth sloppily as you bobbed your head up and down to meet them at the base. You continued to roll your tongue around his length as you sucked in your cheeks, tightening around his cock. You could feel him tense, his moans becoming louder and louder, his breathing uneven, his heartbeat aggressive.

“I’m close—” he didn’t even manage to finish his sentence as you removed your hands and took him the rest of the way down your throat. His chest erupted in an animalistic groan as the tension snapped and he spilled down your throat. You moaned at the feeling, at the power that you had over this beautiful man in front of you. As much as you wanted relief of your own, there was nothing more satisfying than having him spill down your throat, than having him come undone by your tongue. The tears finally spilled as you kept him there, patiently waiting for him to finish before you pulled yourself off him. Your eyes locked onto his as you swallowed, making a show of it. 

You were both breathing rapidly, both stuck in a pocket of time where nothing else but the two of you existed, both completely satisfied in your own ways. He ran his hand over his face then, breaking the spell, knowing that if he stayed any longer, he’d say something he’d regret. Instead he took in a sharp breath and placed himself back into his pants before he reached out to help you to your feet. He led you back on his lap and this time he cradled you, warm hands running all over your cold body. You hummed against his chest, your own hands tightly grabbing a hold of his suit jacket. 

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he murmured before he pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“Yes, Master.”

idk if i'm "back" yet, but here's my offering to you on this saturday. but mostly bc i wanted to fuck with morgan while she's busy and can't do anything about it.

tags: @ssamorganhotchner, @criminalskies, @callm3c0nfus3d, @xladyxdreamer, @gr3enflowers, @lilyviolets, @howabouticallyou, @shadowmemory, @simp4f1, @honeylovemoon, @powerlvr25, @formulapierre, @spenciesprincess, @extra-trash77 (if i missed anyone please let me know!)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #the secrets we keep #bunny and clyde #aaron hotchner #dom hotch #aaron hotchner fanfiction #dom!hotch #sugar daddy!hotch #bau!reader #cam girl!reader #aaron hotchner smut #hotch x you #hotch x reader #show your fangs writes #show your fangs asks #show your fangs blurbs

[valyrfia]

Multiple padel dates? ALJBKLWNFVWEFNB What did I miss?

basically, in the introduction segment in the most recent team redline stream, max was introduced as "having a couple of padel game wins over george russell and charles leclerc". now what's interesting is that the only padel game between charles and max that we know charles won. for max to not only have a win over charles but a win ADVANTAGE implies that charles and max have played MULTIPLE games of padel since that we had no clue occured (until now). so either max's bio lied, or there have been multiple secret lestappen padel dates.

(clip from @SCUDERIAFEMBOY on twitter)

#guys they LITERALLY have been going on secret dates #lestappen #charles leclerc #max verstappen #we just keep winning #every time we think they can't get more fanfiction they do #asks #anon

[captainhysunstuff]

Soichiro is worried about Light’s taste in men.  (Let’s assume that somehow Yotsuba was never involved with Kira junk in this reality, lol.)

#drawn by me #my fanart #my fancomic #Death Note #Soichiro Yagami #Light Yagami #L #lawlight #Reiji Namikawa #Teru Mikami #I was asking myself why Light would choose L over Mikami and realized it's because Mikami's too boring for him #I love Mikalight as much as the next shipper but... #without the Kira worshipper thing he'd have a hard time catching Light's eye #he may well still be Kira here memories and all but he has no real desire to stray from L (for now) #Light's gotta shatter his beliefs and faith to get Mikami to cross the 'bitch' line #Light needs a lover with teeth~ #I literally yelled when I found out that Namikawa is 12 years older than Light XD #Light doesn't come out to his dad until he's well into his career or keeping his relationship secret is no longer viable #couldn't add proper transcription to the pictures again. had to settle with long captions #as if they'll even be able to be seen and read =__=

[tangledinink]

question for ur gemini au: do they ever get cloaking broaches/do they have cloaking broaches and if yes why do they use them?

me: im not gonna draw anything for any of these asks, just simple easy answers, that's all--

idiot-mushroom, my beloved mutual, asking this and giving me the opportunity to make yet another set of TMNT human designs:

ANYWAY! they don't OWN cloaking brooches of their own, but every now and again they'll get a pair for the evening for some topside dinner or charity event or what-have-you that Mama wants them present for. And they look a little like this!

this is a rare occasion and has only really been something they've been asked to participate in a handful of times over the past several years. they both find it horribly stressful for a variety of different reasons.

#very high stakes for leo #since #you know #hes still keeping his secret #the first time they learned they were gonna go to a 'human' event and were going to be expected to wear cloaking brooches he had like #a whole ass breakdown #but donnie took care of everything #and it was okay #they have a system #donnie hates wearing the brooches as well because its just a bad sensory experience for him #so every time theyre in their 'human' forms they both are just stressed af the whole time and miserable #crash as soon as its over #theyre both so grateful its such a rare occurance #asks #gemini au #gemini au asks #rottmnt #rottmnt separated au #rottmnt au #rottmnt human au #tmnt human au #tmnt human designs #rottmnt human designs #fidgetwing #idiot-mushroom #eheheh maybe ill make a comic abt this sometime...