Tumgik
#and i'm not even employed full time
knight-engale · 4 months
Text
it is very very hard to not feel like a failure right now. maybe i am and i've been tricking everyone into thinking i'm not.
5 notes · View notes
katya-goncharov · 1 year
Text
maybe i SHOULD just try to get a different job that would be better suited to me
10 notes · View notes
drzephyr · 7 months
Text
.
1 note · View note
bestiasilvanus · 1 year
Text
Man this post graduation burnout is hitting hard
3 notes · View notes
snavian · 11 months
Text
I hate being mean but I also fucking hate it when greenbeards fully sabotage an EDD
0 notes
daydreamerdrew · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Hulk! (1978) #25
#ok Bruce getting a job as an assistant at a school for mentally disabled children is interesting to me#I’m actually a bit surprised by how simply he’s compassionate here#as it was really striking to me how previous issues of this series really emphasized#how Bruce really values his own intelligence and uses it to distinguish himself from the Hulk#there's a bit in issue 22 where he responds to being told that he shouldn't refer to the Hulk as someone else with#'I'm a mature scientist and he's a brute- a childish primal monster.#You're even going to be using the same basic psychotherapy techniques employed in trying to reach retarded children...'#and in issue 14 the narration says#'At times it is difficult for him to believe. After all he is such a gentle man- a quiet man of science#and the peaceful pursuit of knowledge... Almost a scholarly sort#devoted to the noble achievement of man...#Indeed he exalts mankind's conquest of savagery and worships the divine spark which makes men not mere animals- but human.'#this all being attached to panels of the Hulk smashing#and then there's#'At times he feels the full weight of oppressive despair and hears the soft sibilant voices of the demons mocking deep in his ear:#Look Banner! Look at the vaunted man of science! See the livid green grotesquerie! See what you really are- a dumb beast#a coarse brute a berserk monster!'#it's not that I had expected Bruce to be uncompassionate towards the mentally disabled children#but I had expected him to be a bit uncomfortable#because he's obviously really uncomfortable with the topic of the Hulk and part of that is the Hulk being less intelligent than him#though it also does seem to me that Bruce is glad for the distinction between them as well#it also stands out here that Bruce has 'done a lot of spare time reading on group behavior and adolescent psychology'#which is obviously to try to understand the Hulk#which is its own complicated thing because sometimes Bruce tries to insist that the Hulk is more like a force of nature#and not a person that can be understood#but I can see how the framing of the Hulk as a mentally disabled child would also be palatable to him#marvel#bruce banner#my posts#comic panels
0 notes
punkitt-is-here · 9 months
Text
LIFE UPDATE!!!! RAGHHH!!!
Tumblr media
Okay, so, as some of y'all know, I was fired from my job a couple of months ago. I reapplied, and unfortunately, despite getting an interview, I was turned down. Because of that, I'm going full-time as a self-employed artist. This means I'll be focusing on making fun stuff for my shop, learning better how to ship out items, and doubling down on doing more commissions.
As some of my wonderful commissioners know, I struggle a lot with deadlines and motivation. I have ADHD and even though I'm medicated, it still often gets in my way and kicks my ass often. It's part of why I have such a big struggle when doing commissions; they're hard to motivate myself to do and sometimes require a lot of communication back and forth that I'm just not the best at right now. I would like to say thanks to everyone that's put up with my inability to figure out a decent schedule for commission work, and hopefully everyone who's tried to get art from me will get their stuff very soon!
SO, uh, now that I don't really have a job, what's that mean? Well, I'm going to set a goal to actually make good on my promises for commissionwork. I tend to actually get a lot done in bursts, but they come and go, so I'm going to try and do weekly commissions but with much smaller slots. What I'll be doing is upping the frequency while also limiting the amount I get per-week so I can have a form of consistency with my output. That way, both parties are satisfied and I don't have to keep beating myself up for taking my time because I kept convincing myself I had a big-ass workload I couldn't chip away at.
Part of how I'll be doing this is acting like I still have a job. I'm gonna set aside work hours in the week to specifically work on commissions and shipping and interfacing with clients. I depend on the kindness and goodwill of my incredible followers, so the last thing I really want to do is tarnish that (at least any more than I have; apologies to everyone who's put up with me learning how to run a shop!). I think I'm at a point where I understand a lot of my limitations and abilities, and so I hope going forward I can begin to create a routine for myself and be able to make this something I can do far into the future! If you'd like to support me while I do this wacky lil thing, i've got a ko-fi and now a Patreon! (which I will link in my reblog since I heard Patreon links are weird here on tumblr.) I'm really excited to be launching a patreon. I can't guarantee any specific type of content, but the plan is just to show tiny little previews of stuff early if you're a supporter and stuff like this. I've never had anything of this kind, so I ask for your patience as I work stuff out, but if you feel like supporting me on either platform it'd mean the world to me. Thanks :)
2K notes · View notes
birthedstars · 6 months
Text
“The Duchy”
Birth Parlors are an extremely exclusive, and extremely underground business that have begun cropping up due to this advance in technology. There were little to no limits as to what could happen here…as long as you had the money. A patron could spend millions on customization in a single night on a single labor & birth experience or even a full package Impregnation experience. The amount of money this business made was unprecedented for such a taboo.
“The Duchy” was one of the most popular and untouchable Parlors in the business. As long as there were no bodies to bury, the doors stayed open and workers stayed employed.
Millie, A petite woman with pale skin and red hair, cries out in her room. She was a newer worker here and this was her first labor and birth. Her large belly quivers as her patron raises the intensity of the orgasm function on his remote.
"Oh God, I'm gonna cum!" She said as she felt the pressure build in the base of her belly.
The man stroked his cock at the sight of the woman riding a dildo. "Yeah, pop for me, cmon!"
He specifically ordered to see an orgasmic labor and popping. That much Millie knew. Afterwards, a quick birth that he'd paid extra for Millie not to know about. Her entire body shook as she came and her waters burst around the thick dildo. She grasped her bump as it contracted hard.
“I-is there anything else you need sir?” Millie asked.
“Nah, part two is already starting,” the man groaned as he rubbed his cock.
Millie was about to ask what he meant, but a severe contraction took hold of her body. Her baby shot through her cervix as fast as lightning. Millie cried out and desperately hopped off the dildo, falling onto the room's couch. Instinctively, the young mother began pushing down on her unexpectedly fast coming baby.
“What did you order!” Millie shrieked as the big head forced open her tight pussy. Her whole body shook as the heavy babe spread her wide to the point she'd feel like she was going to tear.
Her pussy lips were drawn tightly around the head. The man smiled and jerked his cock as her labia strained to stay together. This is exactly what he'd paid millions for.
Kelcie, a more experienced birther next door, was groaning under the strain of labor and the need to cum.
Her body wasn't her own at this moment. It was this woman's, who rubbed her tits and throbbing clit endlessly.
“Let me give birth already,” Kelcie moaned softly. Her birth had been stalled at full crown for nearly an hour. Her affluent patron had her strapped up in a harness, legs spread and arms overhead for at least double that.
The woman caressed Kelcie's bump and tits hungrily with one hand and her fingers twisting Kelcies clit with the other.
“We still have so much time left, I want to savor you more,” the woman whispered.
Kelcie just let her head roll back and bear the brunt of the pain burning her pussy. Fluid squirted onto the ground around the big head. This wasn't the first time she had a birth stall, but god did she wish they'd turn off the pressure and pain sensitivity because it was maddening to push with no progress.
In a few rooms over, a group of white collar business men were hazing their new underling.
“We do this with all of the newbies, just gotta pump her full and enjoy the show,” one of the older guys said.
The young man stepped toward Zora, with his cock tenting through the zipper of his pants. Tense, he slowly thrusted his dick into Zora. His face scrunched as he felt her tight canal around him.
Zora trembled as the young man thrusted into her. It had to have been his first time with how hard he was trying not to cum within his first few thrusts. But it was no use, he came in huge, clearly pent up bursts of cum.
Zora had been pregnant before working at “The Duchy”, but she’d never experienced what was about to happen as the young man's seed took.
Her stomach bubbled, then began to swell. Swiftly and suddenly she felt her flat stomach rapidly grow from a pouch just below the navel to a giant round belly with a poked out belly button.
Zora's nails dug into the bed as the weight crashed onto her barely prepared body that still leaked cum. She gasped as her tits strained and leaked against her lingerie. Her legs flared out as the babe dropped into her pelvis. She groaned as her bump subtly twinged and movement fluttered beneath her palm.
Then, she felt a familiar pressure in the base of her taut stomach. Her stomach seized against her and then her waters burst onto the linen. Before she could process it, a huge head drove through her cervix.
“Too fast, too fast!” Zora shrieked.
As she cried out in pain, pushing on her rapidly grown baby, the salarymen jacked their dicks off at the sight of her. She pulled her legs back as the young man's baby quickly spread her pussy to a full crown. The burn encompassed her entire lower half.
Her back arched, poking her huge belly in the air. Zora shrieked as the huge babe popped out of her pussy in a rush of fluid. She fell into a heap on the bed, panting. The afterbirth didn't even have a chance to come out before the men started laughing and chatting again.The men then pushed another newbie forward.
In the basement, a large scale birth show was occurring. Dozens of patrons filled the seats, cheering and hollering as their entertainment spread their pussy wide for them.
Alex grasped their hands around the pole with a fully crowned head between their legs. Their low hanging belly, still full with three more babies, swayed stiffly as they bore down and sensually rotated their hips. They moaned in a showy manner despite their body dripping with sweat.
The patrons whistled as the quadruplet carrier slid up and down the pole. They pleasured themselves as fluid squirted around the shoulders and Alex moaned over the crowds clamoring. Their belly twisted and released in repetition until their first baby fell out of them, onto the cushioned floor of the stage.
The crowd shouted in celebration.
Alex's hand shot straight to their bump as one of the The Duchy employees gathered the child. The second baby was ready to make its rapid descent.
“Oh god, the second baby is comiiing!” Alex moaned into their mic. They slid down the pole and got onto their hands and knees. Their huge belly grazed the ground as they shook their ass. Soon after their waters burst for the second time in the night, making the crowd go wild.
Riley, “The Duchy"s owner watched from the box booth above the amphitheater as she rubbed her own swelling twin belly. She could hardly bear watching her beautiful workers have all of the fun. This was how she made her money and she wouldn't have it any other way.
But, she definitely needed to add some more new hands to the roster. People were becoming insatiable for new content. Time for a recruitment rally.
1K notes · View notes
justporo · 9 months
Text
Even more fluffy relationship headcanons for Astarion and Tav
Listen guys, I'm not done yet. For now, as soon as I get one idea out, three more pop up in my mind and since you guys seem to really like these (it's seriously and positively insane to me), I'll happily provide you more as long as I am able to. So, let's-a go: more headcanons and little ideas about them being together!
Tumblr media
(I formerly used an reuploaded and stolen version of this gif here - I didn't check where it came from and that wasn't right - I'm sorry!)
You love when Astarion smiles at you - just openly and full of joy; the sort of smile you've rarely seen from him during your adventures but they keep getting more and more, also they make him look just so young and carefree and beautiful and your heart just... melts
When Astarion quickly notices how you basically faint whenever he does this, he starts employing it to work his charms on you when he needs it - not the real big and joyous smiles though because they are so real and cherished to him he wouldn't dare use it to tease or manipulate you - they're only reserved to make you happy
Charming you is like breathing to Astarion though, you are just so helpless against his flattery and flirting because why would you resist if you could just give him everything that makes him happy?
When you mention once though that you'd hope to gain some immunity to it some time, Astarion is insulted: "No, love, making you blush is my favourite thing in the world. You are so beautiful with your cheeks all flushed. As long as I have a say in it, we will never stop!"
Tav likes teasing him just as much as Astarion enjoys it the other the way around: "You know if you would stop drawing your brows together all the time, it'd take fifty years off your face immediately." Moments of silence in which Astarion is just utterly shocked by your burn, then: "Who taught you to be this brutal, darling?" You raise an eyebrow at him, he helplessly lifts his arms: "Yeah right, I have only myself to blame."
Also, Astarion and Tav are definitely the kind of power couple that throw each other meaningful sassy looks when they're with other people and those are talking shit or something
Also, afterwards they will most definitely discuss and gossip over everything they experienced
Astarion is definitely the kind of man that would shower Tav with gifts, from coming home with a single beautiful flower that "reminded me of you, my beautiful blossom" ("How cheesy..." "Ah, so rather a gouda next time?") or a nice bottle of wine to share to bigger gestures like jewelry or expensive dresses ("When am I ever gonna wear this, Astarion?" "I don't know, we'll just make an opportunity!")
Tav loves all of his gifts but probably the small ones or the hand-crafted ones the most, she's happy with the little things but Astarion insists she deserves the big ones just as much
One time though, Astarion comes home with something else entirely; it's pouring outside and he's completely drenched and hiding something in his doublet jacket; "What do you have there, Astarion, a wheel of cheese?" Astarion carefully opens up his jacket to reveal a small white kitten that is just as drenched as him and is desperately trying to cling to the vampire's chest. "I found her all alone in a dark alleyway, cold and completely soaked, I thought maybe we could take care of her and she could be friends with Scratch?", he says while he carefully lifts up the small ball of fluff with an incredible softness in his eyes. Your heart is thoroughly melting as you walk over to them and you give Astarion the most loving of kisses
Well, the last one would almost be a drabble on it's own, I saw a similar post that made me think of this (I will find and tag them later!) Hope you enjoyed and I'm late for work now, whoops...
This is the post I mentioned before, by @mushy6902 (I hope it's okay I wrote a somewhat similar idea, thanks for inspiring me!)
2K notes · View notes
fairyysoup · 1 month
Text
it will come back
part one
a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie's version)
Tumblr media
pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader
summary: You don’t go into the woods. You don’t talk to strangers. And you don’t, under any circumstances, approach a wolf. Unless one shows up bleeding at your door.
cw: dark themes, mature content, animal cruelty, animal death mention, gunshots, physical abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master, misogyny, suggestive themes, fairytale au, some kind of historical fantasy period, inspired by The Company of Wolves by Angela Carter, eventual smut (in later parts)
a/n: hiiiiiiii :) so remember when i said i'd stop posting fic on tumblr? well one mental breakdown later i decided that was literally making me miserable and ruining my hobby! so i'm back. it's me, hi, i'm the problem it's me <3 this is a reupload
ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
Tumblr media
There are things they tell you about the woods from the time you are born, weaning you on them just the same as you are weaned on milk. Don’t go into the woods on a full moon. Don’t talk to strange men. Likewise, if you see a strange man alone in the pines on the full moon, run and don’t look back. And don’t, for any reason, approach a wolf at any time. They’ll kill you before you turn the other cheek.
In your twenty-some-odd years, you have never seen a wolf. You’ve heard them howling, distantly, so deep in the forest that you don’t even feel the need to be frightened by it. They exist in there, somewhere, going about their business as wolves do.
Sometimes you hear about the wolves wandering into town. Old Mr. Thatch, from just over the creek, said his pigs were slaughtered in the night. He’ll have to spend a fortune to get a few more. Torben Plack from the end of Warder’s Row saw one drinking from the horse trough outside the inn last month. 
There are whispers of wolves when a baby is missing from its crib. There are whispers of murder in the night. There are accusations that some of the townsfolk themselves are wolves in disguise.
Nonsense, the lot of it. Or, that’s what you believe. That’s what you choose to think about it– even though you’ve been told time and again that a pretty girl doesn’t think, a pretty girl believes and does what she’s told. She doesn’t go into the woods. She does her chores and she says her prayers and she marries a boy with a healthy income and lives quietly, rearing children until she can’t anymore.
(You don’t believe that, either.)
You don’t have the luxury of making any other choices, though. You are a servant, a milkmaid in the employ of a rather cold Master– you have no time for philosophy or discerning what you do and don’t believe about the local folklore.
You milk the cow. You chop the firewood. You feed the chickens. You harvest the cabbage and you don’t complain. You sleep on your bed in your shack– or, servant’s quarters– behind the grand house and you don’t, under any circumstances, question the Master or his wife. You wash the bedsheets after he sloppily takes his wife to bed, and you try to hide your disgust. 
You usually do what you’re told. Usually. 
On a night when the moon hangs round and full in the sky, lighting the stretch of land beyond your small shack in a milky blue haze, you’re building a small fire in the fireplace when you hear it. The howling. It’s so much closer than you’ve ever heard it, almost as though the wolves are just beyond the treeline that backs up to your master’s land.
You pay it no mind. Normally, the wolves are on the hunt for something– small animals that titter through the woods, unassuming until it’s too late. The howling will be distant soon, and you’ll be able to sleep soundly while the rest of the town frets about the dangers of the wolf-men, locking their windows and bolstering their doors. 
Just as you thought, the howls drift away slowly. You snuggle down into the covers of your bed, and you barely flinch when Mr. Thatch fires off a pistol over the creek, ringing through the dead night louder than hell. These things mean little to you. You’re more interested in what the land of dreams holds for you tonight– it’s one of the only reprieves you get from your long days of work.
It isn’t until ten minutes later, when you are mere inches from sleep, that you hear a soft whining outside your cabin door. At first, you think it’s the wind. Then, when it gets louder, you wonder if you’re imagining it.
And when it turns into a soft howling, well. That’s not your imagination.
You wrap a woven blanket around your shoulders and leave the door open when you step out into the chilly night. You don’t have a candle– you could always knick one from the Mistress, but that might risk getting caught, and you don’t love that idea. So, you contend with the little amount of light that spills out of the open door from your small fireplace, and you squint into the dark toward the source of the sound.
It takes shape in the form of a wolf. A big one, covered in black fur and curled up beneath the gabled roof, as though attempting to make itself smaller. It shivers and whimpers miserably, tucking its paws close to its body. 
You shrink back in the doorway, drawing your blanket closer around your shoulders. The hum of crickets in the bushes and in the grass across the pasture covers the shakiness of your rapid breathing. You don’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly be expected to bother the Master this late at night– even if it is a wolf, the barn is shut up and the animals are safe. You’d probably be expected to just stay put in your little cabin and wait for it to go away on its own. Maybe in the morning the Master will find it and skin it for the Mistress’s bedquilt. 
The image makes you shudder. This poor thing– even if it is nearly as big as you, even if it’s a nasty predator in the eyes of everyone else– is clearly looking for some sort of reprieve. Just the same as you do at the end of the day. You can’t let it be skinned alive just for searching for safety.
“Hey,” you whisper softly, and you know the creature hears you, because it flinches badly. Almost as though it may bolt away in a panic. “No, no… don’t be frightened.” 
You lower yourself down towards the ground, tentatively inching forward as the creature turns its head to blink up at you. Water brims its dark eyes, sparkling in the low light from your open door. Streaks of tears flatten the fur on its snout; the wretched thing lets out a noise like a sob, hanging its head like it doesn’t have the energy to stand you off.
“I’ve never seen a wolf cry before,” you tell it quietly. You’ve never seen a wolf, period, but you don’t need to tell it that. You’re not sure that it can understand you, anyways, but you keep talking like it can. “Are you hurt?”
The wolf snorts, sneezes loudly, and then trembles. There’s a high pitched whining, a heart-shattering noise that cuts deep into your chest as the beast cowers away from you. The whine turns into a low growl when you move a bit closer, but it doesn’t sound like it really means business. More like it doesn’t know what to do with your closeness. 
“Hey,” you say again, more insistently. You inch your way forward, crouched low to the ground, holding your blanket around you with one hand as you reach the other out toward it. You’ve never tried to approach a wolf. You don’t know if it’s similar to trying to gain a domesticated dog’s trust– hold out your hand, let it catch your scent. Show it that you mean no harm, allow it to come to you. “I’m trying to help you, okay? Let me help.”
The wolf growls for a moment longer before finally relenting, and reaching its head forward to sniff curiously at your hand. You don’t know what you expect– perhaps that it would drop its head again, or back away cautiously. Instead, the wolf surprises you by pushing its head into your outstretched palm like a sad puppy.
“Oh,” you coo, stroking the wolf’s soft head as it trembles. Its ears twitch against your fingers, and it snuffles a few times, its body shaking with each, like an all-too-human fit of sobbing. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you inside.” 
Again, it’s a shot in the dark. You back slowly away from the creature, whose watery eyes blink up at you, and then you stand, and open the cabin door wider. The wolf doesn’t move, still continuing to shake with its uneven breathing.
You take a step into the door, and watch as the wolf slowly struggles up out of its cowering position. On all four legs, it seems to be favoring its right front leg, lifting its left paw limply upward. When you take another step back into the cabin, and it follows, it shudders a breath and limps badly on its left leg. 
“Good job, honey,” you tell the wolf gently as it tentatively follows you into the cabin. 
You don’t know whether to leave the door open or to shut it; you’re not sure if there’s any wisdom in shutting yourself in close quarters with a wild animal, but you also don’t want the Master to find it come morning. You suck your teeth and swing the door shut, quietly latching it and hoping the damned thing doesn’t suddenly decide it’s too hungry. 
You turn, and take two steps before dropping to your knees in front of the fireplace, where the most light hits the ground. You drop your blanket to the floor, and pat your lap as you look at the creature shivering a few feet away. “C’mere. Lay down.”
As far as you know, wolves don’t normally lay down and play lapdog for strange humans, but this one does. You wonder at it, remarkable in its size and beauty, as it flops down tiredly onto your floor and rests its head in your lap. Through your cotton chemise, the wolf’s chin is warmer than the heat of the fire.
You pet the wolf’s head again gently as you examine its left leg. It doesn’t seem to have any major wounds except for a spot of wetness on the side of it. When you lift it, the wolf in your lap whines loudly.
“I know, baby,” you coo at it, trying to pet its head as soothingly as you can while you look over the mangled leg and paw. Through the fur and dirt, you see a patch of pink skin matted with bright red, and your own hand comes away smeared with blood. There is a bad gash, enough to still be bleeding. 
You don’t want to jostle the animal now that it’s relatively comfortable, so you bend backwards and sideways to reach the cup of water on the shelf at your bedside. It’s what you have on hand to clean the wound– you suppose you could sneak into the grand house to steal some soap, but just the same as the candle, you’d rather not risk it. You take your time in pouring cool, clean water on the wolf’s wound, rubbing dirt and blood away from the gash. In your lap, the beast huffs softly in response.
“I don’t know what you’re doing out of the woods,” you tell it as you tenderly clean its wound, expecting that you’re only speaking to settle your own nerves, “but you ought not to come around here too often. The men here are bloodthirsty. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.” 
The wolf heaves a sigh. For what it’s worth, you take that as some sort of acknowledgement. 
“I can’t do much else for you besides this,” you continue softly. The wound is clean now, the fur gone wet enough that you can pull it aside and peer at the gash itself. It’s quite deep, straight, and slices from the middle of its leg upward at a diagonal. It continues to ooze even as you examine it, painting your fingers red. You tip a little more water onto it. 
You grab one corner of the blanket you’d used to wrap yourself, and rip a strip off along the grain. The light pink fabric looks almost comical when you wrap it around the wolf’s leg, tying it and tucking the tails in gently so that it won’t fall off too easily. You figure, eventually, the damn thing will come off while the wolf goes off on its merry way. You don’t delude yourself into thinking you’ve got a pet, now.
“I wish I could give you more,” you tell the beast, petting your hand down its mane, feeling the silken fur slide through your fingers like the plushest finery that you’ll never be able to enjoy for yourself. “But, I suppose, you can rest here tonight. If you promise to stay polite.”
The wolf doesn’t fuss when you slide a stiff pillow under its chin, and slip back under the covers of your bed. You gaze at it, curled up in a big black mass on your floor in front of the hearth, and you wonder why on earth a wild animal would be so well behaved. 
You wonder how a wolf is capable of crying.
Tumblr media
You wake in the early morning light expecting to find a big black wolf sleeping in front of your hearth. Instead, when you rouse and rub the sleep from your eyes, you find that the wolf is gone.
In fact, there appears to have been no wolf at all. No blood on the floor, no black fur on the pillow that has inexplicably reappeared on the foot of your bed. Your water cup is full. And the door to your cabin is latched, just the same as it had been last night, after you let the wolf in.
By all appearances, nothing happened last night. There was no wolf. You half expect that you dreamed the entire thing. And you would continue to believe so– but, the end of your pink woven blanket is still torn, missing a strip from the end, frayed along the grain.
You slip from your bed and fling open the door to your shack, emerging into the cool morning air. You look down at the nook beside the door where the wolf had huddled in the dark, seeking shelter away from harm. There is nothing there to suggest that it had been there last night. 
But you know it to be true. You know it.
How could a wolf, a four legged creature with full use of only three of them, manage to unlatch your door, step out, and then relatch it from the other side? How could your water magically refill itself? It’s a mile to the well in the town square, and it’s not like the wolf could have done it. 
Broken from your thoughts, you hear a shriek of your name. You lift your head to see your Mistress, fully dressed, feeding the chickens. The daily chores have already begun.
“What are you doing outside in your underclothes?!” your Mistress yells, flinging grain down at the birds. “Go inside and dress yourself this instant, you wretch! And begin your morning duties!” 
You jump, darting back behind the door. You hadn’t thought anyone would be out yet. “Sorry, Mistress!” 
You rush to grab your stays from the end of your bed. You’ll pay for that one, you think. 
Tumblr media
There are a million reasons why you prefer doing your chores out of the house. 
One, the Mistress isn’t around to rag on you over every little thing. Two, you don’t have to be watching over your shoulder to make sure you aren’t in the Master’s way. And three, you can take all the time you want to do other things as well, as long as you get done before dinner has to be served. 
Your skirt is filthy, but it’s a beautiful day, and the creek that separates your Master’s land from Mr. Thatch’s land is babbling quite a bit, and it makes doing the washing up much easier than it otherwise would be. Which you’re happy about, since your arm is so badly welted you can barely curl your fingers. 
You sniffle and lift your apron to wipe your nose. Then you wring out the Mistress’s petticoat– of which there are far too many for one woman to reasonably have– you whine at the strain on your injured hand, and you move to the basket of other soiled clothes. You think about blowing your nose in the Master’s linen shirt, and you’re about two seconds from doing it, too, when you hear a splash nearby. 
“Shit,” says a man’s voice. There are a couple more splashes around the bend, and then yelps, and then there’s one enormous splash, and a laugh. 
“Hello?” you call, trying to peer around the bank of overgrowth beside you. Then, there’s a cacophonous amount of splashing, which makes you screw up your face, and a man emerges from around the bank of greenery.
You pause, holding your Master’s laundry in your hands over the water like you’re wondering whether to dip it in or not. Really, you’re just shocked to see a strange man on your Master’s property at all. He’s out of breath, rosy cheeked and soaking wet from the chest down.
“Um,” is all you can say.
“Hello there,” the man says with a rakish grin that flashes sharp teeth at you. You blink a few times, just to make sure he’s really there. And when you do satisfy yourself with the fact that, yes, he’s very real, you then have to acclimate yourself to the idea that he’s also absolutely beautiful.
His very pretty face is framed by long, dark hair, and his eyes are strikingly dark. There’s something on his skin peeking out of the open collar of his burgundy blouse, but to look at that from this distance means to look at the way his shirt clings to his body, and then his trousers, and if you weren’t already struck dumb, now you are.
“How– how are you– um.” You wave your hands around, gesturing to the general area around you. “Whatareyoudoinghere?” 
“I think I was going for a swim, of sorts,” the man laughs, holding one arm out a bit to indicate his damp appearance. 
“Who are you?”
“Now, there’s a question for the ages.” The man tromps forward through the water, splashing along gracelessly and with exaggerated steps, like he’s trying to make you laugh. “Generally speaking, no one really cares who I am, just what I want.” 
“Okay,” you snap, irritated by the man’s jovial attitude and his need to speak in riddles. “What do you want? Why are you on this land? What business do you have here, and with whom?” 
“Whoa, hey–” the man holds up his hands, and grimaces like it’s painful to do so. Then he recovers with a flashy smile. “I don’t mean you any harm, princess. I have no business anywhere, I was just following the creek and seeing where it leads. Guess the time got away from me.”
“I’m not a princess,” you grumble back at him.
He tilts his head, his smile lingering as he looks at you. “Just an expression, no need to be nasty.”
You scowl down at your master’s clothes, and then plunge them into the water like they personally offended you. “Following the creek from where?” He points his thumb over his shoulder, towards the trees. “You came from the woods?”
“Thereabouts.” 
You squint up at him. “What’s your name?”
“Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows dramatically and takes another step towards you. “And may I ask who you are? Or shall I just call you ‘My Lovely Lady of the Creek,’ for time immemorial?”
You tell him your name flatly, and turn your face away as he gets closer, suddenly very invested in getting sweat stains out of your Master’s linen blouse using a cake of lye soap. “You should know not to go into those woods alone. There’s wolves.” 
 “Oh, I think I can handle myself in the woods, sweetheart.” Eddie smirks down at you. “Anyways, who wants to be in the trees on a day like this?” 
You grunt. You don’t think the man will be going away anytime soon, which is bad news for you, because the closer he gets, the more inclined you are to look at him. Then, you’re more inclined to talk, and you’ve already been punished once today. You don’t think you could handle another.
The man, Eddie, sits himself down on a large rock jutting out of the water next to you. He watches you for a moment, scrubbing with one hand at the cloth on the board in the water, and then he points down at your arm. His billowing sleeve flashes red in your peripheral vision, along with the silver of the rings on his hand.
“What happened here?” he asks softly, his voice losing its humorous tone.
You look down at the welted skin. It stings, but the cold water numbs the pain just a bit. Now that he’s brought your attention back to it, your eyes prick with tears again, and you sniff. “My Mistress caught me outdoors in my chemise.”
“She should count herself lucky. It’s a sight to behold.” 
“What?” You blink up at him. From this angle, him looming over you on a boulder, the sun rings his head in gold like a halo. “How would you know?” 
“I’m… supposing.” Eddie bites his lip, staring off to the side for a moment, as if suddenly at a loss for the right words to say. “You’re a very… beautiful girl. I can only imagine.” 
“That’s forward of you.” 
“Besides, it doesn’t answer my question,” he rushes out. He scowls back down at your arm. “What did that to you?” 
You heave a sigh. “Well, the Mistress told my Master. And the Master is very heavy handed with a cane.” A small sob constricts your throat for a moment, tears pricking your eyes again so badly that you have to stop working and close them. Your sinuses burn from the effort of holding it in.
“You were beaten because you went outside without a petticoat?” Eddie remarks incredulously, “That’s ridiculous.”
“Well, I… I was also late to start my chores,” you admit in a wobbly voice. “So I suppose I got off easier than most would…” 
“It’s cruel. I’d love to see how he would take it, if the tables were turned.” Eddie’s dark eyes flash dangerously when you look up at him; there’s something in the set of his jaw and the steely expression on his face that makes you think of the growling wolf last night. After a moment, he softens towards you again. “Why were you late to your chores?”
“I…” you trail off. You think about telling him about the wolf, but you wonder if he’s the kind of person who will go into town and yell about the wolves trying to steal women in the night, and you could do without the embarrassment. “I had a nightmare. Slept too late.”
Eddie clicks his tongue and rocks backward a bit. “A nightmare,” he repeats, considering the word like it’s a part of life’s philosophy. “What about?”
You don’t respond for a few moments. You’ve moved on to washing a pillowcase now, which is significantly less soiled than your Master’s blouse. “Why do you care?”
“I care because I hate to see My Lovely Lady of the Creek in distress. Even if she is completely vexed by the sight of me,” He says lightly, as you tilt your head down to hide the way your cheeks burn. He reaches up his right hand and produces a silver coin from behind your ear. You stare at it in puzzlement as he hands it to you. “What was your nightmare about?”
You hesitate just a moment before taking the silver coin. “Is this bribery?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie announces with a wry smile. “For your thoughts.”
You sigh. You could use the coin, you’ll admit. Maybe you could buy yourself a new robe, or a loaf of bread from the baker, or any other of the myriad things you’re in want of. 
You tuck the coin down the front of your bodice, where it slides down and gets stuck between your ribcage and your chemise. Eddie’s eyes follow the path that it takes between your breasts with a hungry glint in them. 
“There was a wolf,” you tell him quietly, going back to your work. “It came to my door bleeding. I brought it inside and nursed it. But when I woke, there wasn’t a wolf. It was just a nightmare.”
“Oh,” Eddie hums amusedly. “I wouldn’t call that a nightmare. I’d rather call it a dream.”
“A dream?” you echo with a scoff. 
“Yes. A lovely dream, with a heroine and a lonely beast in need of kindness.” He leans towards you, his hands on his knees. “But, you know what they say about wild things.”
You huff with indignance, but humor him, because you’re curious in spite of yourself. “I don’t know. What do they say?”
“You shouldn’t show them kindness,” he whispers, so close to your ear that you can feel his breath on your neck. “They’ll keep coming back for more.”
You startle, standing up with a noisy splash of water as you yank the last of the laundry from the creek. There’s a flush under your bodice that you don’t like, sticking to the coin that’s going hot against your skin as you think about it even being there. That it was produced by his hand. The more you think about it, the more you imagine it as an extension of his body, touching you just beneath your breast. 
Eddie snickers to himself as you hurriedly, shakily, smack the last piece of laundry into the basket with the rest, and pick up the washboard from the water. With a frustrated huff, you stand and rest the basket of laundry on your hip. You gaze out across the creek, and then away towards the trees, and finally, when you’re sure you can form words, you turn back to him. 
“Goodbye, Mr. Munson,” you say stiffly, so that you don’t trip over your own tongue. It comes out icily as a result, and you turn away to hide the way that you blush.
“Until we meet again.” Eddie presses his lips together, as though he’s stifling a laugh. Then he says, in a slightly bossy tone, “Take care of that arm for me, princess. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.”
You whirl around to ask him to repeat that– what the hell did you just say?– but when you do, the man is already gone. Along with any trace of his presence by the creekside. 
Except, the coin he bought your dream with still grows warm against the heat of your skin, under your bodice. 
346 notes · View notes
speedycoffeedelight · 2 months
Note
I don't know if how readers going to get everyone jobs once their all humans, I know you've only just touched on it and will be exploring it more later, but I could imagine there being sooooo many shenanigans around it.
~
Reader: Okay Charlie, it says here to fill in all your details. I got your full name, address, blah blah blah... Hey, whats your age? Forgot to fill that one in.
Charlie: Oh! I'm 271. Hehe, time sure flies by you know.
Reader: ... Okay. *types 27*
~
Reader: Okay, so there isn't any available host positions at the local station but they are looking for some intern with pay. It says here that there is an option to rise the ranks if you take them, is that alright?
Alastor: I suppose it will have too do, at least its better to work in radio than in any other pointless media. Besides, I'm sure they'll see I'm quite the suitable candidate if the current host needs to be... Replace.
Reader: Please don't kill our local host Al.
~
Reader: Age?
Angel: 36.
Reader: Date of birth?
Angel: 1911, just after the turn of the century.
Reader: *Do mental maths to figure when Angel should have been born if he's currently 36*
~
Reader: Any useful skills relevant for the job in question?
Lucifer: I have been the King of Hell since its creation, that should count for something.
Reader: ...
Lucifer: ... Um, I am a hobbyist toy maker? Would that help?
~
Reader: So it says that there are plenty of bars, restaurants, clubs and café in the area looking for waiting staff. Do you want me to send your CV to all of them right now or do you want to look them over first?
Husk: I don't see why I can't just walk in and ask for a job, that's what we used to do. You even printed a CV out for me, that's alot more than I had when I first got employed.
Reader: ... You do not understand how much I currently wish ya'll could do that.
Okay I absolutely love all these little scenarios you've made and I can definitely see them happening 🤣🤣
Readers gonna have one helluva rough time getting them in jobs and with this cast, woooo boy!!
I feel like we both have the same brain rot for this au (⁠~⁠‾⁠▿⁠‾⁠)⁠~
Tumblr media
328 notes · View notes
Text
HE ATE MY HEART (I LOVE THAT GIRL)
Tumblr media
gif by @corvidcrossbow
Tumblr media
IM SO FUCKING EXCITED TO FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING TO POST ON HERE AND ALSO TO POST SOMETHING TO THIS SONG
Vamp!Daryl has rotted not only my brain but the community. I am not sorry at all for the plague I'm spreading and I hope that it only gets worse.
So I've been doing some research on it, and I really like the idea of mixing the Blade universe w TWD, I did some more research on the different types of vampires (its kind of a lot so if you want you can go read abt them here!) To basically summarize, there's people, daywalkers (half vamp-people), walkers, full vampires, and then Revenants (half-walker half vampire, basically just another way to die)
This also makes it easier for whenever Scud becomes my next vampy victim
AUUUGH I NEED MY HOT SEXY NEEDY VAMPIRE MAN WHO JUST WANTS TO DRINK ALL MY BLOOD SOMEONE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FUCKING PLEASE
also I am working on reqs yes I am, I have one scud fic that is dirty and nasty and should be getting posted soon. also I may not be on tumblr as much as I used to be because GUYS I am now employed yes that's right I got off my computer, went outside, interacted with people, and got a job #gangshit
Tumblr media
It had been over a week since Daryl had eaten, and over two since he had left to go out on the community's monthly supply run.
As he stumbled through the opening gates, he felt like he had been through a war. His body was wracked with exhaustion, weakness, and hunger. The air was thick with the strong scent of blood, and he couldn't keep himself from groaning painfully when he was bombarded by Carol and Rick asking where he had been, what had taken so long, and if he was alright.
“No! M’not alright dammit” He barked at them in frustration after being asked for the third time if he was alright, his voice laced with irritation and discomfort. Carol couldn't help but notice his pale and clammy appearance.
Her forehead creased into a frown as she tightly pursed her lips, giving Daryl a scolding look that made him uneasy. With a tone of concern, she asked, "I'm worried. When was the last you fed?"
The man's face twisted in discomfort as Rick and Carol stood in his space. He scoffed and muttered, "Not recently, m'fuckin' starvin'" The longer he stayed, the more his head spun and his vision blurred, causing the corners of his eyes to fade into a deep red color. His stomach churned uncomfortably, and he could feel his teeth starting to ache.
Rick observed Daryl's malnourished skin, staring at how he was almost transparent. His eyes were screwed shut as the sun harshly burned his sensitive orbs, and he was gripping the strap of his crossbow so hard that his fingers were starting to turn red.
"You should go see Y/n," Rick said, eyes fixed on his friend. "She should be back home and she's been asking about you. I think she misses you." Daryl's body tensed at the sound of your name, and a sudden chill ran down his spine, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. He tried to hide his reaction, but Rick's sharp eyes didn't miss a thing.
Daryl's head drooped weakly as he could only manage a feeble nod. Rick and Carol had stepped off to the side for him, offering their silent support. Carol placed her hand gently on his shoulder, her grey hair falling across her face as she did so. Rick, with his stern expression, gave Daryl a look that he knew meant there was no room for argument.
His senses were already heightened to an extreme level, almost at an overload as the sun was abnormally bright, blazing down on him with a blinding intensity, making it difficult for him to even keep his eyes open. He could feel the heat searing his skin, causing beads of sweat to form on his forehead and trickle down his face. He noticed the way that his vest rubbed uncomfortably against him, the fabric clinging to his skin and making him feel sticky and irritable. His already aching teeth began to grind down against each other, and he could feel his razor-sharp fangs digging into the tender skin of his bottom lip, further fueling his pure discomfort.
Each step he took in the direction of your house was tiring and heavy, his dirty, muddy boots slapping against the ground as he dragged himself through the streets, promptly ignoring any strangle or judgy looks that were thrown his way. He didn't have the time, let alone the strength to even bother paying them any mind. His stomach churned as his overwhelmed nose couldn't help but pick up the sickeningly sweet smell of blood.
It forced him to quicken his pace, trying to get just as far away from the public eye as he possible could. He didn't want to be looked at, didn't want to be stared at. He just wanted to get inside as soon as fucking possible and just tear off all his goddamn clothes. A ping of hope struck through him when he could see your familiar house only a short distance down the road, having to hold himself back from flat-out sprinting the rest of the way there.
Though it was only about a thirty-second walk, it had been the longest in his whole entire life, and walking up the small steps of your porch was like something out of a nightmare. He could disgustingly feel the material change in flooring when he stepped off the pavement and onto the creaky wood, the sound grating against his now way too-sensitive ears. Dear god, would someone fucking help him already?
Of course, as if on cue, the red front door to your house swung open, but instead of being met with a friendly face, he was met with the barrel of your gun.
"Daryl?" You questioned as you lowered the weapon slightly, a smile stretching across your lips once you had confirmed who was standing and dicking around on your porch. "Daryl!" You fully dropped your defensive position, stuffing the weapon in the band of your pants as you prepared to throw yourself at the man, halting when you finally took in his ruined appearance.
His breathing was labored, and it was hard to keep himself upright on his own two legs, forcing him to lean against the wall by the door. "Hey doll"
You scoffed at him in disbelief, "Don't you dare even "hey doll" me, mister! What the hell happened to you? Get in here right now" Grabbing the front of his vest and pulling his heavy body inside, Daryl groaning as each movement caused pain to his body, slumping against the door when you slammed it shut.
He couldn't be happier when he felt you prying the buttons of his stupidly itchy vest off, him shrugging it off as well as his crossbow, clattering down on the floor and probably chipping the metal further.
"Jesus Daryl, you look fucking terrible. Did you feed on anything at all out there?" You purse your lips as you analyze and checked his unnaturally pale chest, letting out a surprised hiss at the burn lingering on your fingers tips from where you had brushed them against the skin of his shoulder
Daryl groaned as you directed him to sit on the couch, the short steps from the front door already leaving him utterly winded, almost dripping in sweat as he wheezed each breath of air.
“‘Wasn’t much… ‘wasn’t much out there” He spoke breathlessly, head spinning and his stomach loudly churning when you stood in front of him.
When you extended a hand out to cup his face, he tightly gripped your wrist with a shaky hand. “Don’. Please don’” He didn’t want to feed from you, not like this, not in a state where he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t absolutely drain you.
“Daryl” You whispered softly, frowning slightly as you started taking your shirt off, and he wanted to scream at your stubbornness.
You straddled his lap and gently brushed the hair sticking to his forehead off, his blue eyes starting to tint red as the smell of your blood was strong, right in his face. “I don’ wanna”
“I know you don’t sweetheart, but you’ll die. What am I gonna do if you die?” You cupped his face, forcing his gaze onto yours. He whimpered slightly at your touch, his whole body sensitive and reactive.
Daryl shivered when you combed fingers through his hair, hands curling around your hips when you directed his head to your neck. “I trust you, more than I even trust myself” You whispered soothingly into his ear, and he almost wanted to cry.
He could smell the blood coursing through you like it was a burning candle, and his mouth was uncontrollably watering. His fangs were sharp and heavy, aching with the need to sink into your skin, which is exactly what he did, groaning against you at the first drops of blood, not wasting against another second before he was greedily taking mouthfuls.
It was so good, so warm and fresh, sweet and bitter. Daryl had drank lots of blood before, and yours was easily his favorite. He craved it during his time out there, not just because there was a serious lack in wild animals, but because it was addictive.
He squeezed your hips, soft and pillowy in his buzzing palms as he could feel himself starting to get hard in his pants, the more blood he swallowed the more drunk he got.
It made you feel good to watch his natural tan color fade back, his scarred back no longer a ghastly pale. You ran your fingers through his hair, occasionally curling your fingers and gripping the dark locks to grind down against his now-straining cock.
Daryl made soft, small sounds as he fed, each roll of your hips making each gulp of your blood taste so much better. His senses were at an all-time high, overwhelmed and at an absolute edge. He couldn’t help the way his hands pressed you down on his cock, hips desperately jerking against you as he could feel himself getting closer and closer, his head spinning in a blood lust haze.
He was so close, so very fucking close. His sharp claws had made themselves known, and you jolted when they painfully curled into your flesh, hips sputtering and slightly faltering in their movements. Daryl had no problem picking up the slack, almost fucking you right through his pants from how hard he was rutting up into you.
It was just all so much, his whole body on fire with pure arousal as he sighed around a final mouthful of crimson, trembling from his core as his orgasm washed over him, pressing your clothed cunt against him as hard as he could, making his already fuzzy mind draw a complete blank, a loud groan tearing from his throat that caused his fangs to slip out from where he had punctured the skin and drop his head against your shoulder, whimpering softly as he held you down.
You scratched his scalp comfortingly, feeling a little woozy from the amount of blood he had taken. He hummed against you as he started to come down from not only the high of his orgasm but bubbly buzz from his feast.
“Feel better?” You asked in a quiet, sleepy voice when Daryl’s tongue cleaned the drops of blood that had leaked from the small wounds, coating the area in his saliva so that it could heal.
He nodded as peppered you in appreciative and apologetic kisses, pulling you flush against his bare chest by wrapping his arms around your back, claws retracted and replaced with blunt nails. “M’sorry fer hurtin’, ya”
“Instead, you should be sorry for not feeding yourself, mister” You said as you shook your head, pinching his side as you got a bit upset again. “You know it scares me shitless when you do that”
“I know, I know. M’sorry for tha’ too” Daryl grumbled, feeling fatigued as well now that his tummy was full and satiated. His body was still weak and needed rest, now yours did as well considering he had taken a lot more than usual. “I’ll make it up to ya’” He said as he pushed himself up off the couch, grunting as it was a lot harder with tired muscles and one hand keeping his woman wrapped around him, adding a second once he was finally standing.
You giggled at that, arms hooked around his neck. “And just how will you do that?”
“Got a real good idea” Daryl smirked, hoisting you up as he ascended up the stairs to your shared bedroom, hungry for something else that was much better than blood.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I started writing this a few days ago I think this is the quickest I've written something
Vamp!Daryl is an absolute need. I'm loving every single post I see of him and I love watching the disease spread faster than fucking covid I jump for joy when I see someone I don't even know talking abt him is this what fame feels like is this what its like to be famous am I fucking famous
yes you do want more of this so go read more
Bloodthirsty @dixons-sunshine
Bite me @mydearestdaryl
184 notes · View notes
hwangism143 · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
dim lights (work nights)
synopsis: work party. seungmin is a suit. a glass of wine. oh, you are so done.
pairing: lawyer!seungmin x fem!reader
genre: workplace romance, fluff, teensy angst
warnings: drinking, punching jokes, swearing
word count: 1.2k words
a/n: been in my drafts for like a week hehe. suit seungmin has me screaming. anyways, enjoy and pls drop any and all feedback!
Tumblr media
"I'll be charging ten dollars to punch him in the face, upon your generous request," murmured a low voice tantalizingly close to your ear.
You scoffed, "The things I want to do to Davies go far beyond a modest punch to the face. Those things could get me in jail."
One arm across your waist and the other's elbow propped upon your hand, you turned to face the owner of the honeyed voice that just offered you an extremely lucrative deal moments. Swirling around the remaining wine in your wine glass, you studied Kim Seungmin as he studied you.
"In that case," Seungmin sighed, "You'll have to pay my legal consultancy fees which, I'm afraid is far higher."
A laugh bubbled from your lips as Seungmin smirked at your rage. Watching one of the many people you were currently pitted against for a promotion kissing up to your boss made anger blossom within you. Then again, you weren't exactly known for being the most level-headed lawyer employed at the Prescott, Park and Daley Legal Firm.
But you, along with Seungmin, were known for being the best.
You offered Seungmin eyes that reflected betrayal. "I thought you would bail me out for free. I thought we were friends," you chastised.
"We most definitely are not friends, darling," said Seungmin smugly.
A smirk was forming on his lips and an eyebrow was ticked up. You felt yourself being stripped bare under his piercing gaze and flirtatious smile. Oh how he loved torturing you.
You caught your lip between your teeth to drink him in, deciding to conveniently ignore the fact that your teeth were currently in the process of being stained by your dark red lipstick. Seungmin's hair was styled to perfection, his skin was glowing and his eyes stayed on you as if you were a person he wished to learn every fold of. His three-piece suit was tailored to perfection and hugged his body perfectly.
You looked away and hoped he attributed your flushed face to the wine you were drinking. He was right though. You and Seungmin were not friends, not in the conventional sense. It was more of a situation where being paired up so much over the seven years that you spent at the firm caused to the two of you to become comfortable in each other's presence.
Both you having graduated top of your class from law school (you went to Harvard Law while Seungmin opted for Princeton), you both joined the law firm at the same time, full of dreams and aspirations. At first, you both considered one another as rivals. Constantly being compared truly made you inhibit a sort of begrudging sense of dislike towards him.
However, working your first together, truly made you realize how he was actually a very caring person. Seungmin constantly knew what to say to you without even saying anything. He brought you food and made you ramen after he found out your extreme affection towards the Korean delicacy.
You and Seungmin, however, came from strikingly different backgrounds. Seungmin lived comfortably and had a wealthy upbringing, which caused people to often underestimate his hard work. You went to school on an eighty percent scholarship but still worked three jobs to pay of your student loan, causing people to often very offensively doubt your etiquette.
You heard the rumors about rich kid Seungmin during your initial weeks at the firm. Allegedly (you are a lawyer, of course you use the word allegedly more than any other word over), he lived in a high rise apartment with so many floors that a helicopter, a fucking helicopter,crashed into the side of it.
You took extreme pride in being the only one to know that this was, in fact, true, as confirmed by the man himself.
Forcing your eyes to go back to Seungmin, your gaze sat on the horrendous lump which he called his 'tie'.
"It's on wrong," you remarked, motioning towards Seungmin's tie. He gave you shrug. "Fix it for me?"
You set down your now empty glass on the sleek granite table and the private restaurant lounge your colleagues and high playing clients were currently in. The low jazz music and soft lighting gave the entire room an ambience of romance. This was only heightened by Seungmin's sudden desire to covertly flirt with you.
Reaching around his neck to undo his tie, you never broke eye contact with him. You could feel his gaze start from your eyes and trail all the way down to your black stilettoes. He had a faint smile on his face. So he likes what he sees?
Finishing with a scoff, you send him away with a pat on his arm in a futile attempt to diffuse the tiny fireworks that were popping all over your body. Seungmin disappeared into the crowd to socialize, leaving you his scent surrounding your very being.
Grabbing another drink (a mojito), you walked over to the table where Seungmin's paralegal, Hyunjin, sat scrolling on his phone. Both of you being ambiverts who leaned more towards the introverted side, you both often found yourself sitting at the quiet people table in silence.
You could see Hyunjin's welcoming eyes move from you to somewhere behind you, morphing into one of distaste. You followed his line of sight to find your paralegal, Yeji, downing shots like her life depended on it. Although Hyunjin loved his cousin, he wouldn't be caught dead doing the things she did.
"You're painfully fond of him," started Hyunjin in mock annoyance, "It's disgusting."
You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a light slip. Hyunjin dramatically feigned pain and pushed a plate of food towards you. Your stomach rumbling as if on cue, you pounced on the food and relished it. That was one good thing about these corporate meetings; they had free food, at least as far as girl logic went.
Finishing up with a satisfied sigh, you looked up only to lock eyes with a notorious Mr. Peterson, a heavily disliked client who loved hitting on women. The bartender, Chan, offered you a sympathetic smile and slid you a shot of tequila.
"You're gonna need it," he said pitifully, patting your hand twice for reassurance.
Suppressing the urge to slap the now emerging Mr. Peterson and plastering on a fake smile, you turned to face the cause of your sorrow. The short, balding man's attempt at making any nonsensical, non-professional conversation was shot down by you quickly. You waved around your hand around, hoping he would take note of the large diamond ring that sat nestled in you finger.
You hoped he would take the hint about your marital status. You were loyal to your husband to a fault. Behind you, a Kim Seungmin watched you in amusement. You felt both sadness and anger seep into you. Sadness because he wasn't near you and anger because you were left alone to deal with a human shaped insolence.
Finally escaping from the clutches of Mr. Peterson grubby hands, you put your head down on the cold marble slab. Your hands held your heels and your head was already pounding from the effects of alcohol. Behind you, you heard a laugh that you knew unmistakable belonged to Seungmin. Turning around, you came face to face with a seemingly put together and knowingly exhausted Seungmin.
"Working hours are over," you said wearily.
"So?" came Seungmin's dry response.
You held your arms up like a child. "So, would you like to carry your extremely drunk yet adorably lovable wife home?"
Seungmin pressed a kiss to your forehead and duly obliged.
Tumblr media
main taglist (reply to be added) - @linoalwaysknows
193 notes · View notes
hellfirecvnt · 19 days
Text
First Trip
Lee Russell x Fem!Reader pt. 1
Tumblr media
Summary: You're the new secretary at NJH. You've caught Lee's eye, but disaster strikes before anything can be done about it.
Read part two here. // Part three here. // Part four here. // Part five here.
Tumblr media
The bright morning sun rays crack through the window into your small house in the new town you've just moved to. It was your very first night in your new home and today, you start your new job. Your goal was to be employed by a school and you achieved that goal, even if it wasn't the position you'd hoped for. You applied as a teacher for a plethora of subjects, but the only open positions they had were in the office.
You pull into the parking lot of your new home school, North Jackson High School. You exhale the nerves out of your body and check yourself one more time in the mirror before stepping out of the car and making your stroll inside. As you get closer, you notice a group of students surrounding something in front of the school. You hear a man demanding that they disperse, but you can't see him past the crowd.
"You. Who are you?" A round man with pushed-back hair points to you the second you step through the door.
"I'm the new Secretary. You must be Mr. Russell," you say, smiling and extending your hand to him.
"Strike one. Fuck no, I'm not Lee Russell." The man speaks sharply.
"Oh, I- I'm sorry. You're Mr. Neal Gamby." Once you correct his name, he meets your handshake. "Did you say 'Strike one?'"
"Keep up with me, Mrs. Y/L/N. I don't repeat myself. Percival left a pile of fucking horse shit in the front drop-off lane." The strict man guides you into the office, ignoring your question entirely.
"Um, it's Miss, actually. I'm not married." You quicken your walk behind Gamby, already reading him for the pretentious leader he is. At least now you know what the hype was outside.
"Me neither. My ex-wife's a bitch. This is your desk." He quickly points to the desk at the front of the office where an empty chair sits next to a discarded name plaque that reads "Janice Smith."
"Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to-" When you look up, he's already walking away, continuing a tour you thought would end right here.
"This is my office," his voice is faint as he disappears behind a corner. You drop your things off at the desk and speedily catch him down the hall. "This is Mr. Russell's office." He intrusively swings the door open to an empty office. Leaving you without a face to the name Lee Russell.
"Thank you, Mr. Gamby. I-" he cuts you off.
"Now the last secretary was shit. She was terrible. She was so bad," he starts, but a passing teacher cuts in.
"She started a six-figure business and quit on you, Gamby."
"That's not true. Regardless, I expect better from you Ms. Y/L/N. Don't fuck me over." He disappears into his office and you begin to settle into your desk. You remove the remnants of Ms. Smith and replace them with photos of your pets. You're a well-organized person and a quick learner. You make it a personal goal to give that severe asshat nothing to complain about. Anything to make the job less boring.
Lunchtime rolls around and you find yourself a little lost and even overwhelmed as you enter the booming volume of the cafeteria. You glance around the room, noticing the faculty table seems a little full. It's only your first day, and you haven't had time to introduce yourself to anyone with Mr. Gamby making odd, redundant requests on a two-minute basis.
You step through the line and purchase an apple before making your way back to your desk in the front office. It'd be nicer to sit somewhere quieter anyway. As you cross the lunch room, you're oblivious to the pair of deep brown eyes you've caught across the room. Lee spots your lanyard and immediately turns to face Neal.
"Who the fuck is that, Gamby?" His voice is a low whisper. Mr. Gamby looks over and watches you as you exit through the double doors.
"That's the new office secretary, Ms. Y/L/N," Gamby answers dryly and returns his attention to his sandwich.
"You didn't tell me you were hiring anybody yet," his voice kind of fades off as he's lost in thought.
"Yeah well, she applied to be a teacher, but we're about overrun by those fuckers," Neal says, met by sneers from the teachers sitting within earshot.
"So you've got her doing desk bitch-work?"
"The fuck are you acting so offended for?" Neal's resting face is one with arched brows, but one arches even higher now as he questions his friend.
"Forget about it, Gamby. She married? Did you see a ring?" Lee glances at the door again, wondering if you plan to come back.
"No, she said she isn't married. And why are you asking? Has your divorce even been finalized yet?"
"Yes, idiot. It's been finalized for a month if you ever fuckin' listen to me." Lee reaches over and disrupts something on Neal's lunch tray. Neal swats his hands away.
"Knock it off! Why are you even focused on ladies and women when we're supposed to be concocting a plan against Dr. Brown?"
"Would you lower your fucking voice, Gamby? Jesus!" Mr. Russell hisses as he follows the other vice principal out of the cafeteria. As the two men round the corner, they come face to face with their higher up. Principal Brown.
"Gamby, there you are. I need you to head up to the office and show Ms. Y/L/N how to log into her staff portal." The woman is dominant and sure in her words. Mr. Gamby sighs before nodding complacently and heading up front. Lee nods to Dr. Brown and quickly follows behind his coworker.
"So what'd you have in mind?" Lee whispers as they walk, coming up quickly on the desk you reside at.
"Now who needs to lower their voice? It's Y/L/N's first day on the job and you want her to hear us plotting against the boss?" Gamby scolds him, right in front of you. You stare at both of them with wide eyes, silent.
"Ms. Y/L/N, I'm Lee Russell. It's wonderful to meet you, darlin'." Lee reaches a charismatic hand across the desk and you happily shake it.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Russell." You smile warmly, hoping to make a good first impression. Suddenly, the phone rings and you're quick to answer, allowing Neal and Lee to slip back into their bickering.
"Well, now she definitely knows something's up, dick head. Don't piss her off before we get Belinda fired," Lee whispers harshly.
"Um, excuse me, Mr. Gamby?" You gain their attention. "Your daughter's shoes seemed to have broken or something during gym class. She needs you to bring her a new pair."
"God damn it, Janelle." Gamby slams his fist on your desk before bolting out the door. You watch him leave, your eyes wide with shock.
"Yeah, he's on his way I think. Thank you, goodbye." You hang up the phone and return your attention to Lee. "Could you please help me log into this faculty portal thing?"
"Yeah, sure, doll. Let's see what we can do." He joins you on the other side of your desk and takes a knee next to your computer chair. You sit and allow him to walk you through the steps. He's so close and the entire time he's next to you, his pulse races. You finish setting up your account and thank him for his help.
"It's no problem at all, Ms. Y/L/N," he smiles, basking in the interaction with you. "You new to town?"
"Yeah, I am. I just spent my first night in my new house last night," you chuckle nervously. Still accepting the new life you're making for yourself.
"First night in? Why, you need to be shown around! You probably don't even know where to find the good bars." He gushes, charismatically.
"That'd be pretty nice if you're offering, Mr. Russell," you smile. He wants so badly to solidify those plans, but it's risky business being your higher-up and saying these things out in the open. Especially with how many people hate him and would gladly report him.
"Let's put a pin in that." He smiles brightly. "I'd love to stay here and talk with you, honey, but I'm afraid I have to run a few errands."
"Is it the plotting?" You ask, flat out.
"Yeah... It's the plotting," he sighs, shaking his head as he walks down the hallway to his office. You giggle as he disappears from view. You're no stranger to the inner workings of a dysfunctional school staff, it's entertaining to just be a secretary instead of a teacher in the middle of it.
After a while, Mr. Gamby returns from delivering new shoes to his daughter. He stomps through the door mumbling something along the lines of "Why the fuck Gail couldn't do it..."
"Hello, welcome back, Mr. Gamby." You wave, greeting him with a smile.
"Grab that ISS Board and follow me," he demands and you do as he says. He assigns the in-school suspension students to clean up duty for the "prank" left outside by the rival school's team this morning.
The next day, a pep rally is organized and Dr. Brown makes a hell of a speech, igniting school spirit all across the student body. You're just happy to be there, but you can see Neal and Lee leaning in to whisper things to each other. You only catch a small snippet from Lee.
"Look at Brown. She's all fucked out," he cackles with Gamby. You know he's speaking about her exhausted, spaced-out appearance, but hearing him use that phrase causes your cheeks to redden.
Throughout the day, you catch yourself attempting to eavesdrop on the two vice principals. Not to intervene or disrupt, but just for the tea. It's boring up front and they seem to know how to stay busy. You don't gather much. Tonight is the big game, and Lee and Neal have been out of sight, out of mind for a while now.
The day comes to an end and the students begin to prepare for the biggest game of the year. Gamby obnoxiously piles into the front office and summons you from your desk, demanding that you follow him with haste.
"We have to stop Mr. Russell from poisoning the North Jackson football team," he grunts as the two of you speedwalk through the corridors.
"He's doing what?!" But your question is left unanswered as the two of you enter the football field. Mr. Gamby quickly spots Mr. Russell across the grass and takes off at full speed after him. You try your best to keep up without exerting yourself.
"Lee! Stop right there. Don't do this," Gamby barges into the locker room behind him after the short pursuit.
"Don't do what? The thing I've already just done? I just did it," Lee shrugs, tossing the small, empty bottle of LSD at Gamby. The two men bicker for a moment before a match of tug of war breaks out between them over the large vat of dosed water meant for the players.
"I command you to let go!" Gamby thunders just before their hands slip, and all three of you become doused in the liquid.
"You fucking idiot! This shit gets absorbed through the skin!" Lee wails.
"What?!" The two men scramble out of the locker room and attempt to flee campus before the drugs kick in.
"Just get the fuck out of here!" Lee shoves Neal out the door and they leave you there, still in shock. The longer you wait, the more it sets in that you're going to trip on school grounds and there's no way around it. You take the drugs by the reigns and attempt to chase down your bosses.
By the time you find them, they're standing under the bleachers holding their arms out in front of two confused students like they have some sort of superpowers.
"You two," you say, voice barely trembling as you attempt to hold it together. You point at the students. "Get the fuck out of here and I won't let them write you up." The two kids nod and flee the scene. As they do, Neal and Lee raise their extended hands, gazing at each other with mouths agape.
"You two," you grab them both by the sleeve and turn them to face you. "This your first trip?" They look at each other and then back at you before nodding out of sync.
"North Jackson High Wins!" A voice booms over the field intercom. Gamby's eyes fall shut in relief, but Lee's just staring at you. It'd be hard to believe he heard the announcer at all with how he gazes into your eyes.
"You got beautiful eyes," Lee mumbles.
"You two need to come with me. We have to get out of here until this shit wears off." You take both of their hands and swiftly guide them back inside the school. You take refuge in the Circle room and place the privacy cover over the door window. "Here. Eat some popcorn. Calm the fuck down and maybe we'll all still have a job tomorrow."
"Ms. Y/L/N, I'm impressed by your initiation." Mr. Gamby misspeaks, staring intently into the pattern on the rug where he sits on a bean bag.
"Thank you, sir. I would've preferred not to be drugged by my bosses."
"Hey, now. Don't go around sayin' shit like that or we're all fucked," Lee chimes in.
"Don't start with me, Mr. Russell. You two were using The Force on some 9th graders who will no doubt have that information spread to everybody before 6 AM tomorrow !" You protest his light scolding. He chuckles at your response, unable to form a sensible response after that.
For the rest of the time in that room, you toss random activities at them to keep them busy. Sometimes it's just showing them the rug again if they've forgotten about it. Once you all come down, you're tired and sore, desperate to get home. The game is long over and the crowd has been gone for hours. The school is empty save for the three of you.
"I'll see you both tomorrow," you grumble, crumpling into your car.
"See you tomorrow, Y/L/N." Gamby waves you off as you pull out of the parking lot.
"She saved your ass tonight, Gamby," Lee smirks.
"She saved our asses tonight, Russell. Guess I didn't do too bad of a job hiring someone by myself, huh? Asshole." Neal settles into his car and pulls off, leaving Lee to sit in his car for a while.
He goes home to an empty house these days. He hasn't dated in 20 years. He wonders if there's any point in even looking at you that way after the mess he orchestrated tonight. He can't deny that your quick thinking saved their skin. You asked if it was their first time doing hallucinogens, and he wonders how often you partake to have been so coherent while they were melting face.
His ride home is quiet and he almost forgets to be pissed that North Jackson won the game and made Belinda look like a goddamn superwoman. He spends most of the journey thinking about you. It follows him home all the way up until he closes his eyes.
Suddenly work isn't so bad. He looks forward to seeing you tomorrow.
152 notes · View notes
stars-and-the-min · 2 months
Text
☆ the wrong way to hard launch (5) | OP81
summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au
pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc
a/n formula 1's 'newest' WAG makes her race debut and gives her cousin a headache
i did actually screech like a parrot watching this race and then immediately adjusted some of my predictive writings
masterlist | last part | part 5 | next part
TWITTER
F1 WAGS @f1wagnews · 3h Selina Bui spotted around the paddock!
pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h the royal couple of australia (i don't make the rules 🤷‍♀️)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 2h why... did she wear blue...? she knows basic color theory... right??? ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h i completely missed that... SILENA??? ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 2h HER ASS IS NOT ENDING UP IN THE PAPAYA GARAGE IN THAT DRESS 😭 SHE'S NOT THAT DUMB IS SHE???
MANIFESTED OSCALINA | LONDON N3 @12m0red4ys · 26m SCREECHING RN we used to dream of these days
Tumblr media
↳ lina bui x2 grammy winner @urdaisea · 25m '2-time grammy award winner' HELL YEAH SHE IS ↳ MANIFESTED OSCALINA | LONDON N3 @12m0red4ys · 26m the most employed wag in formula 1 🫶 (lily is a close 2nd)
oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 13m HELP HAS ANYONE ELSE SEEN THAT CLIP OF LINA AND THE CHINESE INTERVIEWER 😭 ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 13m [translation] interviewer: this is your cousin's 3rd f1 season, how come you've never come support him? lina: he said he doesn't like my nagging interviewer: then will you be supporting zhou guanyu in shanghai? his home race could use some family support lina: even if he asked me to visit, there's nothing i can do, i'm in shenzhen performing a sold-out concert ↳ clovie @ luvyouvie · 7m she's so done lmao what can she do if zhou doesn't want her there ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 5m lina: i'm fucking busy too, have you considered that??
INSTAGRAM
selinabui just posted to their story
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(translation: Brother Yu [Zhou Guanyu], come and save me)
TWITTER
rubyyy @piastriworld · 2h oh wait shit she's cute as fuck what ↳ rubyyy @piastriworld · 2h fyi this is abt lina bui ↳ rubyyy @piastriworld · 2h i was kinda expecting a full-on rockstar but she's super soft???
piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 1h the same woman not even 12hrs later
Tumblr media Tumblr media
clara @ zgy24 · 37m i do actually think it's insane we got an 'oscar piastri's partner' graphic before we got a 'zhou guanyu's cousin' graphic ↳ clara @ zgy24 · 37m selina dear, we know you can't stand him but we're sure he'd appreciate it if you popped by the kick garage on your way over 🫶 ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 17m you sound like my mother but i'll have you know he sent me this:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
很油腻 directly translates to 'very greasy' but it basically means 'ew' or 'cringe'
↳ clara @ zgy24 · 15m LMAO OH MY BAD ↳ xixi²⁴ ⁴⁴ @grandegrid · 14m the sheer amount of info you get from these two ss 😭 like ofc they use wechat, zhou guanyu sounds like an annoying older brother, she calls him 鱼哥, she trolls the emperor nickname, THE PURE SIBLING DYNAMIC IS EVERYTHING ↳ ZG24 future WDC · @zhoupdates · 14m zhou cousins crumbs 💚
lina !!! @EB_selina · 29m mistakes were made, the blue dress and orange-- sorry, PAPAYA headphones are not a look 💀 ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 28m wonder if it's too late to sneak into the sauber garage... ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 12m i'm actually wheezing at this bc that's EXACTLY what my oomf said when ur pics first dropped ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 10m well i wish ur oomf gave me a heads-up before i left the hotel
INSTAGRAM
selinabui
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by zhouguanyu24 and 112,385 others
selinabui went on a tour around the paddock (finally visited the man racing with my number 🫶) tagged: zhouguanyu24 and logansargeant
pi4str1 babygirl, i think you wandered the wrong way
pastry81 oscar's girlfriend meeting oscar's boyfriend
zhouguanyu24 我给了你一个愿望 trans: i gave you one job/i had one wish ↳ selinabui @ zhouguanyu24 你是不是我的亲表哥! trans: are you even my cousin!
logansargeant This feels like an achievement ↳ selinabui @ logansargeant it is, stay slaying cap, so glad to see you race today 🫶
no2argeant logan getting a double feature over her cousin mhm those are mutuals via oscar frfr (loscar and oscalina and... lolina?) ↳ selinabui @no2argeant we use selogan but lolina is 100x cuter
TWITTER
piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 3h HELP SHE ACTUALLY SNUCK INTO THE SAUBER GARAGE
xixi²⁴ ⁴⁴ @grandegrid · 2h both cousins are equally unserious bc why did i remember the 'who's the most famous person in ur contacts' thing kick sauber did and why did zhou say jj lin when his very famous GRAMMY WINNING cousin seems to regularly bug him on the daily ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h he probably forgot lmao it's like she's not famous in his eyes "oh lina? u mean my annoying little cousin? oh right, she's a rockstar or smth"
oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 2h ok i'm convinced she's gonna stay in the williams garage now like it's almost guaranteed she's not headed back to mclaren ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 2h oscar, honey, come over and remove ur girlfriend from the williams garage, she's yapping with logan ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 8m I JUST SAW LINA'S POST 💀💀 y'know she's right, lolina is cuter than selogan but now i need to know how much logan's been 3rd wheeling
kayla @luna_apocolypse · 16m oscar checking his socials and it's his fans debating on the best ship name for his girlfriend and bestie
MESSAGES
from the phone of selina bui
Tumblr media Tumblr media
TWITTER
oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h realising that lina being at the race means we're probably not gonna get her entertaining af f1 live-tweets
Tumblr media
↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h no joke, we missed out on aus gp live-tweets bc she was flying to jakarta but the saudi gp tweets gave me LIFE
INSTAGRAM/MESSAGES
from the phone of logan sargeant
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
TWITTER
oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 39m red flag??? already??? we just started??? ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 34m they cut to lina in the mclaren garage and i'm wheezing she looks so amused by the turn of events 😭
jess @OPIXSTRI · 3m oh they knew what they were doing cutting to selina bui after zhou guanyu retired ↳ jess @OPIXSTRI · 3m new f1 reaction pic just dropped guys, perfectly summarises the kick sauber saga
Tumblr media
↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 2m obsessed with her refusal to wear the orange headphones genuinely think she would rather go deaf than have those pictures circulate the internet
xixi²⁴ ⁴⁴ @grandegrid · 5m we got the zhou guanyu's cousin graphic but at what cost
Tumblr media
↳ Stake F1 Team KICK Sauber @stakef1team_ks · 18m We're sorry to let you down 😔 ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 17m i don't care which long-suffering intern this is. get out. ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 20m lmao lina's sauber pit stop tweets vs oscar's f3 drs tweets, fight 🤣
INSTAGRAM
selinabui Suzuka, Japan
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by eb_jonno and 200,371 others
selinabui loved the experience, will not be going to another one bc i'm 94% sure i jinxed EVERYONE i hold dear in this sport - stay safe out there 👍 see y'all in seoul in 2-3 business days <3 tagged: mclaren and oscarpiastri
logansargeant You did *not* jinx anyone ↳ selinabui @ logansargeant logan, honey, i'm a bit depressed about you but sure man, whatever you say :'(
ninisf1diary how'd you find your first ever live race? ↳ selinabui @ninisf1diary very fun, loved the bit where oscar got to hop back into the garage after the first lap
mclaren Are we still gonna see you in Imola 🥺 ↳ selinabui @ mclaren i think oscar is gonna drag me over kicking and screaming but i guess i'll be there
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification
232 notes · View notes
in-som-niyah · 3 months
Note
Jason todd who would def cut patrol short when reader calls him cuz her vibrator died??? idk i literally see his weakness as being needed in any way... <333
a/n: anon ur so right
"I'm on my way pretty girl, just sit tight for me."
warnings: piv sex, explicit smut, semi-rough sex, reader masturbates, reader has a vibrator, mentions of other sex toys, jason todd is a whore, no beta we die like men, jason uses spanish petnames because its sexier i dont make the rules, reader has a vagina, reader masturbates, sexual frustration, mentions of heaven & idk what else
The chill of another Gotham night kissed your supple skin. Fresh out of the shower, you made your way back to your Jason-less bed for the night.
The routine of Jason being gone on patrol was painfully familiar, but the ache it left in your chest remained foreign, no matter how many times you experienced it.
This time, he left in a hurry after you both left your business unfinished. His lips sucked at your neck and made their way down to your collarbone, only for his alarm to go off and his helmet to be tugged on. 'I'll see you after patrol, amorcita' he said, knowing full well he would be home around 4 am.
This left an ache in you. Not a fire yet, no, but a craving to be fed what he starved you of hours ago.
Finally dry and setting your towel down, you find a pair of clean underwear and a loose pyjama shirt and lower yourself into bed.
It was a cold night, the frigid sheets and absence of Jason only making it worse. Despite the discomfort, you couldn't deny yourself the subtle pleasure of rubbing your thighs together to satiate the pressing situation between them.
It had been so long since Jason left, and you were fucking needy for Christ's sake.
Deciding to get the job done yourself, you pull out the bullet vibrator that you used when Jason wasn't around. It wasn't that you deliberately kept him from it, he just never asked, and you needed a little escape when he left you in such a state.
Spreading your legs under the covers, you lightly stroked your clit with one hand, while the other toyed with your nipple.
You haven't even turned the damn thing on and you're a panting, dripping mess already, soaking your surrounding area in sweat and stickiness.
Your index finger pressed on the power button, and you increased the pressure on your clit. Instantly, you saw stars and the relief was unimaginable.
Just as you got a steady rhythm going, everything stopped.
You pressed and held down the power button again, but nothing happened.
Your puffy pussy begged for more stimulation, something as intense as the now-gone vibrations, but it was too late. There was no time to charge and all your other toys were dead.
Trying to still at least finish, you employ both your hands between your legs, one rubbing hard circles on your clit and the other prodding at your weeping entrance.
Tears of dissatisfaction burned rivers in your hot cheeks, and your fingers began to tremble and give out. It had been 45 minutes of trying to get yourself anywhere near an orgasm, and your desperation has reached its limit.
Jason always told you to call him in case of an emergency, and this was beginning to be a fucking emergency.
Jason was taking down a group of goons with his guns, while punching and kicking those who came too close. He was much less coordinated tonight (thanks to the tent in his pants), which the gang members took full advantage of. Thoughts of you and your supple skin ran marathons in his head, clouding all focus and occupying all his mental real-estate, making it hard to pay attention to the current pressing issues.
Just as he finished his last one off, his helmet alerts him of an incoming call from you. This is extremely strange, as you don't call or text when he's out at all. He picks up though, panting but quite anxious at the sudden change.
Before he has a chance to ask, you cut him off.
"please jay i-i need you..."
"Huh? What happened princess? Are you alright? Are you safe?" Jason blurts in a frenzy.
"y-yes but i n-need you and it hurts..." You whine pitifully.
"What hurts hm? Tell me, princessa." He continues worriedly as he mounts his motorcycle ready to speed back to you.
You moan at the pet name, sticky fingers returning to your abused cunt and beginning to rub at your clit again in hopes of creating some friction.
"Darling?"
Sudden embarrassment kept your form being straightforward with him and you resorted to another whimper of dissatisfaction once again.
"J-just come home, please Jay?"
"I'm on my way pretty girl, just sit tight for me." Jason responded with a click of the line going dead.
In the meantime, you were a pitiful writhing mess, voice hoarse and hands shaking. The covers have long been forgotten, leaving your open thighs trembling with both frustration and the cold.
Jason was shitting himself. Between your defeated pleas for him to just come home coupled with your reluctance to be specific, he was terrified.
His mind kept replaying scenarios of horror and bloodshed as he ignored every single traffic law to get back to you.
Finally outside your shared apartment, he flung himself up the fire escape and through your kitchen window. When it was deemed safe, he took off his mask and called out to you. He was met with a desperate sobs in response, which only made his worry grow.
Hard footsteps could be heard making their way closer to you, making you flinch slightly.
Upon flinging open the bedroom door, Jason was sorely unprepared to meet such a pitiful sight.
There you were, spread open for all to see. Cunt swollen and wet, dripping like a faucet onto the sweat-soaked sheets. Your braids ran wild behind you as your bonnet had slipped off and your entire body was trembling due to the chill in the air.
Even as his huge form stood over you, your shaky and tired hands continued to rub at your clit, desperate for relief. Your bitten lips were still being chewed and your teary eyes remained squeezed shut.
Jason softened and hardened at the same time, but in different places.
You open your eyes to find him in his tactical gear looming over you and your hands immediately fly up from you body to make grabby hands at him.
He manages a genuine, soft smile despite the carnal desire brewing in his pants.
Before he indulges though, he need to make sure you're okay first.
"Hey, I'm right here love. You alright?" He whispers over your shaking body, his hand volunteering to rub your calf in effort to soothe your shaking.
"J-Jay? fuck I need-" you sob as your trembling hand returns to your abused clit once again.
He catches your hand and kisses the back of it, knowing that this will only overstimulate you. However, this was all the confirmation he needed. Jason stripped himself quickly and crawled his way up to you on the bed.
"Shhhh I know querida, I know... Does it hurt?" Jason questions, trying to gauge the situation the best he could.
You nod fervently, just wanting some fucking relief. Your hips were sore from being in such an open position for so long, your breasts and nipples were raw, and oh god you didn't want to acknowledge the burning between your legs.
Just then, Jason captured your lips with his as soft reassurance. This gentleness didn't last, as your desires began to overtake your mouths and soon, you were both hungrily devouring each other.
Jason was here, with you, right here, right now. 
His hands began to roam, your body, soothing all the tension and frustration that was once there. It hurt him to feel your muscles trembling in such a painful way, but also inspired him to make them shake for a more intimate purpose.
Jason's mouth made its way down your body, from the back of your left ear to your collarbone, making your gasp as he left marks of his devotion in his wake. His journey led him to the valley between your breasts, where his hands began to knead your right breast with practiced skill.
"J-Jay please- oh~"
At your call, his head perks up from where he was kissing down your stomach, just above your navel.
Jason's lustful green eyes settle on your pleading and desperate gaze, to which he smirks and settles the side of his head on your soft tummy and continues holding your gaze.
"Tell me how you want me, cariño"
You bit your lip. All this longing has robbed you of your ability to think, and in the most crucial moment, your mind went blank.
Seeming to notice, Jason moves himself back up to your face, silver chain dangling from his neck over yours, and employs his left hand to smooth your braids from your face.
"You want me to fuck you like the heavens have forsaken us, hm?"
You moan and nod, one of your hands moving to his weeping length and beginning to stroke it.
Jason devours you again, making you eat his moans and whimpers, and finally positions himself between your legs.
Upon swiping a thick finger between your folds he realizes that he's completely good to go, no prep needed.
"Deep breath, mami~" he grits out. He doesn't wait for a response before he's pushing himself all the way in.
You both moan in unison, and continue to do so as Jason's thrusts pickup speed and force.
As soon as he's found a rhythm his mouth and hands didn't leave your body. His chain dangled closely above you as he kissed your cheeks and neck, and his hands kneaded and squeezed wherever they went.
Surprising to neither of you, Jason's pace quickly became brutal, but he continued hitting all the sensitive spots inside your warm walls. His roughness never overshadowed his ability to bring you pleasure, he made sure of that.
Remembering your sore hips, Jason pulls a pillow under your ass to change the angle, which allows him to reach that much deeper inside you.
Your pussy clenches hard at the newfound pleasure and the coil in your lower tummy begins to unravel.
"You like that 'ma? This tight pussy tells me you do." He chuckles.
All you can do is moan and grip the soft sheets for dear life; Jason was making you see Andromeda. 
The coil, never forgotten, was closing in quickly, by which Jason was undeniably privy to due to your walls closing on on him.
You threw your head back and tried to stay in the moment without getting lost in the anticipation of your impending orgasm.
At this, Jason's now free hand found the back of your head and lifted it back up to meet his gaze.
"Amorcita? I know you're close, mi vida. You know what I want" Jason whispers against your mouth, his breath ghosting over your bitten and swollen lips.
The coil was becoming unbearable now. You were teetering on just the edge, just the painstaking precipice of and absolutely mind-bending orgasm.
You notice that Jason was getting sloppier, and his thrusts quicker and not as deep. His quick breaths became laboured and his eyes screwed shut. He was close. 
"You're right there darling. C'mon, cum with me." He says before he smashes his lips on yours and thrusts hard. The coil in your tummy finally snapping at the surprise.
Galaxies and other stars bathed in white bliss was all you were able to perceive as the long-awaited orgasm claimed every blazing nerve in your body. No longer cold, but cozily warm your body felt as the waves of pleasure continued to cascade throughout your body.
Your other half was pushed over the edge by your climax, which then painted your insides a sticky white while he groaned in your ear upon release.
You were too far gone to notice his thrusts coming to a stop and his hands running themselves up and down your sides, gently coaxing your back in the present with him.
"Mami? You back with me yet" Jason whispers in your neck.
You barely register what he's saying, outside stimulation being very hazy and distant.
"Hmm?"
"I asked if you're with me yet." He says with a laugh. You looked so lost but finally content.
You nod your head, but this was't sufficient.
"Words, querida."
"Yeah, I'm good." You respond with a sigh.
Though you knew tomorrow morning would be hell on your muscles, you were finally satisfied and happy.
Jason kissed your forehead and got up to get a towel, but stopped once he got to the ensuite bathroom and turned to look at you while leaning on the doorframe.
"Oh and baby?"
You turn over to look at him, your eyes not being able to fight the urge to roam the expanse of his glorious body as if your guts weren't already rearranged.
"Hmm?"
"I hope you never charge that vibrator again."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a/n pt2: PHEWWWW YALL THIS TOOK SO LONG AND MY BROWSER QUIT AND I ALMOST LOST ALL MY PROGRESS
anyways its 3am night night
181 notes · View notes