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imyourbratzdoll · 9 months

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hiii baby 🤍

weird request maybe…

But reader being tired of dating but really wanting a baby…like she just really doesn’t want to wait for the perfect man to settle down with, but she really really really wants a baby.

So she asks childhood!bestfriend!bucky or like childhood!bestfriend!CE!Character to impregnate her…

He (being secretly in love with her) agrees, so they make one 😩

hi honey! not weird at all! I loved this, I'm hoping I did it justice and that you love it!

summary - you've decided to stop going on dates when the last one fails and go to your best friend for the thing you desperately want.

warning - smut, breeding kink, unrequited love (or not), horrible dates, creampie, swearing, slight angst.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You sigh, having just come back from yet another failed date. No man seemed to live up to the expectation you were looking for. You sagged into the couch, kicking your shoes off and beginning to massage your temples. “Ugh, I’ll never find the perfect man to settle down with…” You look down at your stomach, and your mind fills with images of you being pregnant. Your eyes blink it away as you rub your belly. “I just want a baby… Is that so hard?”

Your eyes widen when you realise you have the perfect plan. Bucky! He’s your best friend, an ideal option for a sperm donor. You quickly dig through your purse and pull out your phone, unlocking it and quickly sending him a message.

‘Hey, are you able to come over? I have something important to ask you.’ You send the text, gnawing on your bottom lip as you wait for his response, watching the three little dots appear.

‘Sure, I’ll be there in 10 minutes with your favourite snacks.’

You smile, quickly jumping up and running to your room. You strip from the clothes you sadly wasted on your date and changed into a red lingerie set that Bucky got you for your birthday. You smirked when you remembered how flushed Bucky looked as you opened the gift bag and promised to show him one day. You walk over to the mirror and fix your make-up, reapplying your red gloss.

When you hear the door unlock, you quickly throw on your silk robe and head out of your room, ready to greet Bucky. He enters and smiles when he sees you waiting there for him. His heart practically pounds out of his chest as you smile back at him, walking over and wrapping your arms around his body. “Hey, I got us some Chinese.” He wraps one arm around you, tightly holding the bag of food with the other.

“You came so fast!” Your cheeks heat up at the innuendo of your words. You don’t notice the pout on his lips as you pull away from him and begin to walk toward the lounge room. “C’mon, I’d feel better asking you the thing while sitting down… I don’t really know how you’ll feel about it.” Your chew on your bottom lip, your nerves getting to you as you realise if he says no, you’ll possibly be ruining a good friendship.

Bucky follows you like a lost puppy, practically feeling your nerves radiating off of you. His eyes shamefully land on your arse, watching your hips sway as you walk before him. “So, uh… How did your date go?” This would be the tenth date this week that you’ve been on, and as your best friend, Bucky knows all about them and how lately they haven’t been going well. Except for his heart that constantly broke every time you told him you had a date with everyone but him. Bucky sits beside you, pulling out the hot food and handing you your usual.

“Shit like the others.” You immediately begin to stuff your face with food, starving from storming off during the date. “From the moment we met, all he spoke about was himself and the women he’s been with. Then when we sat down to eat, he ordered for me, but when I stood up for myself and ordered what I wanted. He decided to call me a cow and fat and that no man would ever love me if I didn’t let them take control of my life.” You growl, shovelling more food in your mouth. You swallow and look at Bucky, noticing the angry look behind his eyes but deciding to ignore that. “But, I came to a conclusion. You know how much I’ve been wanting a baby and have been trying to find the perfect man to settle down with.”

Bucky nods before frowning. “Please don’t tell me you're going to just sleep with one of these guys to get one.” His brows furrow. “You deserve more than that. You deserve someone that will be there for you and the baby.”

You wave him off, sucking some juice off your thumb. “Of course not. I had someone better in mind.” Your eyes connect with him, and Bucky’s brows raise when he puts the pieces together. “I want you to impregnate me, Bucky.”

“Y–you–” He swallows, blinking rapidly, wondering if he heard you right.

“I want you, Bucky. Just imagine how cute our baby would be, but I understand if you say no and no longer want to be–”

“Yes.”

“B–”

“Yes.” Bucky immediately scoots closer and cups your cheeks. “I’ll pump you full until you are carrying my child.” You feel slick gather between your thighs, turned on by his words. Bucky’s hands move down and undo your robe, choking on his saliva when his eyes land on the red lingerie set he had bought you. “You’re so beautiful…” He whispers, staring for a while before looking into your eyes. “D–do you want to go slow or…” Bucky swallows, knowing that you weren’t doing this because you felt anything for him. You were doing this to get a baby.

“Fast, for now, I just need you.” You whimper. You grasp the back of Bucky’s head and pull him toward you, devouring his lips with yours. “Please, fuck a baby into me.”

Bucky catches the for-now part, causing his heart to jump, knowing there might be another time. His breath catches as your lips connect, swearing that fireworks went off. His hand lands between your legs and begins to rub you through your knickers, letting out a moan as he feels how wet you are. “D–did you touch yourself before I got here?”

You shake your head, “No, no….” You whine, back arching and legs spreading more as he touches you. Bucky feels his cock harden more when he realises he made you wet. “Bucky, please.” You blink the tears away, so overwhelmed with your feelings for your best friend and your horniness. You hadn’t been touched in so long, and to have Bucky finally touch you with the promise of putting a baby in you intensifies it.

Bucky leans back, giving you a look. “Are you sure about this? Because once I start, I really don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” You nod rapidly, gripping any part of him that you can. He places a hand under your chin. “I need words, Y/n.”

“Yes, Bucky. I’m sure I want this.” You watch him remove your clothes, followed by his, and you gasp as your eyes land on his member. “You’re so big…” Bucky strokes his cock, lining it with your sopping cunt. As he pushes in, Bucky leans forward and connects his lips with yours, swallowing your moans. “O–oh…”

His hands move down and grip your hips, thrusting deep, fast and hard into your tight walls. “Fuck, you feel so good, doll.” Your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer to you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits deep inside you, hitting places you’ve never reached before. “I can’t wait to pump you full of my cum, doll. Breed you.” He growls, getting lost in the feel of you.

You moan, gripping onto your best friend, feeling him split you open, bringing you pleasure you’ve never felt before. You can’t wait until he fills you with his cum, giving you what you’ve always wanted. “Faster, Bucky, please.” You don’t know how he’s done it, but you're so close you can feel your orgasm just around the corner.

Bucky’s hips begin to snap, slamming into you hard and fast. “Shit, doll. I’m so close.” His hand slides between your bodies, locating your clit and rubbing it. Your back arches, legs squeezing tighter around him as your juices squirt out of you, your walls pulsating around his thick cock. Bucky groans, burying his face into your neck, pounding into you before burying himself deep inside you. Thick spurts of cum shoot out of his mushroom tip as he pumps you full of his cream. “Fuck, fuck! There’s so much. It feels too good, doll!”

You sag into the couch, pulling Bucky along with you, enjoying the feeling of his softening cock inside of you. He stares at you, stroking your cheek, and you smile tiredly up at him. “Thank you, Bucky. I hope this takes, if not. We will have just to keep trying.”

Bucky smiles, “I’d be happy with that.” He leans forward and presses a soft kiss on your forehead.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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canonicallyobserving911 · 4 months

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9-1-1: Season 7

After season 6 ended, I said I wasn't going to speculate for Season 7 and I'm not but I am going to post what I hope is included in it.

Season 6 ended so poorly that at this point, I think all they can do is (to quote Eddie Diaz) "Do More" to be better.

My only hope is they make some groundbreaking TV like they did in seasons 2 & 3 instead of relying on storylines they copied and pasted from other shows (how many shows have there been that had a sperm donor storyline 🙄).

Stop forcing the narrative.

Stop giving new recurring characters more screen time than those who have been on the show for years. Karen and Denny have been on the show since the beginning, Linda, Sue and Josh have been there since season 2 and Ravi's been there since season 4. The cast is already robust so no new recurring characters are needed. Here's an idea, it would be great if 9-1-1 uses the mains they keep sidelining intstead of inserting new people like LD (which was an epic fail). Bobby, Chimney and Eddie are mains but they barely got any storylines in season 6.

It would be great if all the main cast members got an equal amount of storylines like they did in earlier seasons.

Can the opening emergency last for two to three episodes like the ones included in seasons 2-4 because the one in 6x1 lasted until the first commercial break and then it was over?

Don't kill off a main character or send one of them away for shock value because it usually doesn't work.

Can at least one of them get a job promotion? They've all been doing the same job since the beginning.

For the love of all things beneficial, please don't make a musical episode (in an interview the showrunner mentioned it would be easier but if they do this they'll end up like Grey's and it'll be ridiculous. Who wants to watch first responders singing while they work? 😕 I don't!).

Please let Bobby and Athena be happy empty nesters for a change instead of throwing more trauma at them because they've suffered enough.

Give Hen and Karen the screen time they deserve and let them remind Nathaniel he said he would follow their lead in 2x5 but he didn't.

Don't drag the Madney wedding out for several episodes like they did their proposal.

Can Chris get a storyline of his own? Denny had one that lasted for 4 episodes so why can't Chris get one too?

Finally, can they just make Buddie CANON already? It's been too long and it's time for Buck and Eddie to be happy. Stop throwing random women at them because it's exhausting to watch and no one wants to watch repeat versions of B/T with B/N and E/A with E/M. If they won't let them be happy together then let them be single because there are happy single people in the world.

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drewharrisonwriter · 9 months

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Hi so i'm very curious how do you think hank's family took the news of them finally getting together as a couple??

Ohhhh this is a good one!!!

Consider this a drabble for Donor. This scenario most certainly happened after the spicy events of Part 3. LOL

Henry's family greeted the news of your relationship with a chorus of laughter and cheers, his brothers joining in with their trademark lively banter.

"Finally!" they exclaimed in unison, raising their glasses in mock celebration during a raucous moment at their father's birthday party a couple of months later.

Charlie leaned over to his older sibling, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Mate, we were beginning to wonder if you'd ever come to your senses."

Henry rolled his eyes with an exaggerated sigh, his lips curving into a playful smile. "Oh please, like any of you have room to talk. Charlie, you once dated a professional cheese taster!"

Charlie chuckled, not denying the accusation. "Hey, you can't put a price on good taste."

"And I suppose a knack for cheese critiques runs in the family, huh?" you chimed in, your tone playfully teasing.

Laughter erupted around the table, and Henry's other brothers, Piers, Niki, and Simon, joined in. "Well, if that's the case, I guess I should consider myself lucky that my last girlfriend was a pastry chef!" Simon quipped.

Henry shook his head in mock exasperation, his laughter blending with the others. "You lot are ridiculous. But yes, it took us a while to figure things out."

His mother, having overheard the exchange, leaned in with a knowing smile. "Oh, Hank, don't act like you weren't always smitten with Y/N. We could all see it."

Henry's cheeks flushed slightly, and he shot you an affectionate look. "Well, I can't argue with that."

"You two do look quite cozy together," his father added with a wink. "And if my old eyes aren't failing me, I'd say there's something more than friendship there."

Piers, the eldest of the bunch, raised his glass. "To Hank and Y/N – the slowest burn in history!"

“Twenty-fucking years in the making!” Niki added.

Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, and you shared a glance with Henry, your heart warmed by the camaraderie of his family. It was clear that their easy banter and teasing were all signs of their genuine happiness for the two of you.

Hope you liked it!!!

If you want me to write more drabbles about Hank and Darling bestie, let me know! 😉

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x little!reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x plus size reader #henry cavill x pregnant reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x short!reader #henry cavill x wife!reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henrycavilledit #hcavilledit #Henry Cavill drabble

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missmollybloom · 1 year

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Things I’d love to see in a new season of Sherlock

(To be honest, I’d take a one-off special at this point! Anything!)

One day, I might turn this into a fic - but in the meantime, here are my dreams for how the next episodes of Sherlock might go. (And note my eternal optimism that there *will* be more episodes one day!)

I want to see Molly as a natural part of the narrative, she doesn’t have to take over, she doesn’t need to be a huge part, I just want her there. (Part of that is my reaction to how small a role she was given in s4 compared to s3!!).

But what if Mrs Hudson requested in her will that the whole of 221 be left to Molly. Why? Because she knows that Molly is the only other woman Sherlock would let look after him, the only one he listens to, the only one he trusts.

She’s still working at Bart’s, but she’s also there, living in Mrs H’s flat.

Sherlock could make a few cracks about “the new landlady” to John before it’s revealed to us that’s it’s Molly.

“No more drugs for me, John. The new landlady wouldn’t allow it.”

“You’ll notice there are no more bullet holes in the walls. Request of the new landlady.”

“I’m even eating during cases now. The new landlady didn’t buy my argument that digesting slows me down.”

We get this picture of a very stern, harsh mistress.

“Oh. Here she comes now.” Sherlock warns

And it’s Molly.

For Molly’s part, she’s moved on with her life. She has twins. If we do the math we can work out they were probably conceived within a few months of The Final Problem.

There’s enough ambiguity to keep everyone happy. It’s never spelled out.

Maybe it was a one-night stand or a relationship that failed and the father isn’t in the picture?

Maybe she got an anonymous sperm donor?

Maybe she asked Sherlock to be the sperm donor?

Or maybe the sperm was donated “recreationally”?

Fans can debate it over and over. There’s enough deniability for the J*hnL*ckers to be happy and plenty of fodder for Sherlolly fans to write countless fics over.

Anyway... some thoughts.

If anything, I just want more episodes! Please!

#sherlolly #imaginary season 5 #missmollybloom can dream #Molly Hooper

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hummingbird-of-light · 7 months

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No. 18 “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.” (blindfold)

He had no idea where he was. All he knew was that his body was tied to a cold table. He couldn’t see anything for a blindfold covered his eyes.

There was someone with him. He knew it. The doctor could hear the sound of slow steps echoing through the room.

And yet another familiar sound reached his ears. The sound of someone whistling a song. It sent shivers down McCoy’s spine.

He knew that song very well. His mother used to sing it to him when he was a little boy. But somehow he knew that whoever had taken him was not the type of person to sing him a lullaby.

No. His captor probably had far darker plans for McCoy.

He once again tried to break free, however, it was impossible to move his body. McCoy let out a desperate groan, but his voice got stuck in his throat when suddenly he felt something cold and sharp touching his bare chest.

The doctor’s heart skipped a beat and he shook his head in panic. He knew the feeling of a scalpel when he felt one.

“Whoa! Hey, hey, hey. What do you think you’re doing, man?”

He got no reply. Instead, the whistling, which had stopped for a short moment, only continued.

“Stop it! Please, don-“

McCoy didn’t get to finish his plead for mercy for suddenly the blade started to slice up his torso. The doctor screamed out as agonizing pain filled his whole body.

He couldn’t stop the hot tears from streaming down his face as he violently shook his head, sobbing loudly.

It hurt! It hurt just so much!

He didn’t know how it happened, but somehow the blindfold loosened and merely seconds later completely fell off.

What he saw was the craziest thing the doctor had ever seen in his whole life.

He could only stare in disbelief at the man looking back at him.

It was… him.

His tormentor looked just like McCoy himself. The only thing different were his uniform and the eyepatch covering his right eye. It was accompanied by a huge scar on that side of the face.

McCoy opened his mouth to say something, but no word left it.

And suddenly there was this horrible grin on his counterpart’s face as the man used one of his gloved hands to touch McCoy’s cheek.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Leonard. I didn’t mean for you to see me. To see yourself cutting you up. But I suppose I can’t prevent it now, can I?”

Once again, McCoy shook his head. This was… impossible! It couldn’t be real!

“Why?”

It was the only word he managed to croak out and his captor just sighed heavily.

“Well… it’s not easy to live with a disease that makes your organs fail one by one. Actually it sucks pretty much. So I thought to myself… what better organ donor is there than your counterpart of another universe?”

The smile on the other McCoy’s face only widened and a second later he continued his work.

“The answer is quite simple, Leonard. There is no better donor.”

The last thing McCoy heard was the sound of the familiar song being whistled while his twisted mirror version slowly took him apart.

#whumptober2023 #no.18 #lyric #I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.#blindfold #star trek #fanfiction #major character injury #major character death #blood #gore #surgery #dr. leonard mccoy #mirror dr. leonard mccoy

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juanarc-thethird · 2 years

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The Things You Make Me Feel: what's Ren and Nora's view of the things that seem to happen too RWBY (and others too) whenever they're around Jaune?

For them it is entertaining and profitable.

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

Ren and Nora watch as the girls try to seduce Jaune but fail miserably.

Ren: They never give up.

Nora: And I hope they don't. I'm getting rich with this!

Ren: Did someone bet today?

Nora: Let me see. Cardin bet $50 more on Ruby, Flynt bet $65 on Yang, and Prof. Ozpin bet $150 on Pyrrha.

Ren: Prof. Ozpin bet on Pyrrha?

Nora: Yes, he says that if she can win a tournament 4 times in a row, winning Jaune's heart would be easy.

Ren: Does he know that Pyrrha is a coward when it comes to love affairs?

Nora: Nope, and it better stay that way. She is the one who makes me the most money. I have an anonymous donor who spent $500 on her. When this is over, my share will be huge!

Ren: How many girls are on the list of people who want to ride Jaune?

Nora: At the moment we have Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang, Pyrrha, Velvet, Glynda, Cinder, Emerald, Neo, the nurse, and surprisingly Coco.

Ren: Coco?

Nora: It seems that she is in a delicate moment in her life. It's complicated.

Ren: I see.

Then they see Blake enter the room. She has a new light on her face, as if she has become wiser and more mature.

Ren: *Pulls out some Lien* Okay, put $30 on Blake. I feel like she has a plan.

Nora: *Takes the money* I don't like to take your money, but I can also feel that she is up to something.

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

The girls that I mention, I'm working on them. If you want to add someone else to the list, please let me know. The next girl is Pyrrha.

#jaune arc #rwby jaune arc #rwby jaune #jaune #The Things You Make Me Feel #rwby lie ren #rwby ren #ren #lie ren #rwby nora #rwby nora valkyrie #nora #nora valkyrie #rwby

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firinniee · 1 year

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HOGWARTS LEGACY VS JKR

Out of context but I decided to celebrate the release of the latest Harry Potter game (10.02) and I have to say here my opinion on this subject, someone who grew up on HP, is part of the LGBT and does not wholeheartedly support person who created this magical world. No matter what you think, if you have any respect for another human being, please read what I have to say, k?

The fact that I wanted to write such an entry appeared in my head from the moment I started getting insults and threats here because I supposedly "support jkr"... because I like Harry and I drew pictures with him over a year ago quite regularly? This is stupid. Just like raiding people because they like something is stupid. Since apparently we have a problem with separating author from they work and attack for everyone who has anything to do with Harry Potter has begun. Apart from the fact that books can be bought used and fan merch exists, we can not support the author financially in any way, do you think it changes anything? Like for Christmas, me and my fiancé got HP bedding and HP pajamas from my mama, and do you think that JK came to Poland to thank my ma' for this purchase? You think that made her have enough money to feed her children and pay for the apartment? NO. Do you think she cares? Of course not! Rowling is a person who could allocate a significant part of her wealth (because yes, we must not forget about it if we want to be objective) for charity, probably even her three children will not be able to spend the money she has because there is too much of it.

But here we come to someone who is not so rich and does not have that much money. Do you know who? The creators of the game. The creators of the game, who not only make a living from being part of creating it, they devoted long hours to it and delved into the world that they must love so that the society that has been waiting for a good game from this university for years will get it. And now you can scream "But why did they go to make a transphobe game?!?!?!?" Let me explain, the first transphobic JK Rowlings games on Twitter appeared in 2020, and the first mentions of the already quite developed Hogwarts Legacy we met in 2018. It is true that the creators cleverly wanted to cut themselves off from JKR, but unfortunately even they were intolerant of "anti jkr", and yes really anti their time, anti their work and anti their work as artists.

And you think that even if, hypothetically, none of the games were bought, would the author of HP cry about it? No, we would show her that even if the next games, books and movies fail, she will still be in a high position as an author.

Now in private, I hope you're not a hypocrite and if you think that just liking HP is supporting JKR, are you doing anything for others to be what they want to be? Have you helped a trans person and bought them a binder? Do you publicly defend their right to use the restroom where they feel comfortable or did you do something JUST FOR GOOD of that person? Or let's go even deeper, since everyone should be equal, have you helped other people in need? Have you donated blood? Are you in the bone marrow donor database? Have you supported any foundation that supports what is most important to you? Poor ones? Womans? Kids? Animals? Or maybe you just sit on the Internet, use emotional blackmail and hide behind the alleged tolerance, but only in terms of what should be right for you & you want to force others to your will? Ordinary people like me and you suffer because of this behavior. If you want to destroy the right of many people to create their own creations and probably millions of people's right to take a break from the gray world and play a game about a magical kid running around the castle - you are as bad as the jkr you hate so much. Just intolerant.

Nah due to the fact that I am quite sick I don't have the strength to argue in the comments but I think such things should be said out loud, from someone who is at the center of it all. I'll probably be a poser, but I'd rather buy a switch game once it's available, but for now, I wish everyone could feel comfortable - whether it's in such big things as orientation, pronouns or being yourself, but also in such mundane things as liking Harry Potter. If it makes you happy and doesn't hurt anyone, remember that you don't have to be like the author if you don't support them. Good day my beans! ~Firinnie

#hogwarts #harry potter #hogwarts legacy #anti jkr #anti j k rowling #firinnie #firinniee

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arizonaconservativegal · 1 year

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It's almost as if no political movement has goals anymore, rendering them completely pointless. The left and the right are closer than you think. In fact, they are deliberately working together to create a culture war to keep us distracted. That is why neither of them will ever be successful and why it's best if people stop playing this pointless game.

I hear this a lot from people who mostly just want to justify their own apathy. I gotta push back.

Have both parties failed to do anything meaningful while one or the other of them have full control of a state or federal government? You betcha. Have they also completely failed to work across the aisle when control is divided? Damn straight. But the reason isn't that they're colluding to make things worse or keep us distracted, as you say. The reason is real simple: they just don't want to do the work.

Not because then they'd lose a critical campaign talking point and not because they have lobbyists/donors in their ear telling them not to and not because they actually think it's cool that we have all these problems. They don't want to do it because it's a lot harder to actually fix shit than you think it is.

It's a little bit like cleaning out a hoarder's house. The mess is so overwhelming that you don't even know where to start with it. Yeah, the answer is to get rid of the junk but everything looks like junk when you have a mess this big and some of it is probably not stuff you want to throw away, like the resident's family photo albums or their favorite winter coat. You have to go through it all and figure out what's worth keeping and what's not but there's so. much. stuff.

So you decide that you are going to start by just throwing away all the newspapers that have accumulated over the last 60 years because how could anyone possibly need these? But then you realize that there are newspapers in every room of the house. There are newspapers under the bed. There are newspapers in the attic. There's a fucking newspaper in the refrigerator. Every time you think you've gotten them all, you turn around and see another. You could do this for a month and never finish clearing out just the newspapers, let alone anything else.

So you say forget the newspapers. Let's just work on one room at a time. The living room seems like a good place to start. There are stacks and stacks of junk in there that you can just go through one by one. Except that when you start doing that, you realize that half the house is a fucking jenga tower and if you touch anything this stack, it's going to topple three other 10 foot stacks of stuff and quite possibly crush you underneath it.

Eventually you just get frustrated because you've been working for a week and made no discernible progress. You've thrown out a metric fuckton of junk but there was so much of it to begin with that no one can tell anything is different at all. Meanwhile, the resident of the house has been screaming and crying the entire time because they don't want you to throw away that and no, no please don't get rid of this. You're exhausted and stressed out and then on day 8 the resident gleefully announces they bought more stuff!

At a certain point, you decide it's easier to just live with the mess and one day maybe someone will burn the house down for you and you can just collect the insurance money and start over.

So yeah, sure we can look at an issue from the outside - say deficit spending - and know that the answer is to spend less money. Duh. But when you start to actually look at the federal budget, it's massive and complicated and it's all patchwork and cobbled together haphazardly so every piece of it is interconnected and you can't do anything about this program until you get rid of that program and these programs should probably just be combined but they're in two different branches of government so where are you going to put the new one? And no one really wants to be the guy who tells an entire office full of decent people that they're getting laid off because their program is a waste of time and even if you did want to do that, they're going to pitch a fit and slam you in the press who will obviously take their side and then their union is going to campaign against you and maybe cutting that program just isn't worth the effort. And this all assumes too that the people we're electing even know how to read the budget, which they do not.

Is anyone ever going to fix this whole mess? Probably not. But the people we elect are the ones who decide if we keep making the problem worse or if we put the brakes on. And once in a while you even get a candidate who's willing to knock over the jenga tower in the living room so they can at least get one part of the house back to a functional state.

#in case it wasn't obvious - cleaning out my grandmother's house was great fun #0/10 do not recommend

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zhongrin · 1 year

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just wanted to pop in to say 1) thank you for the well wishes and 2) content will still be pushed every saturday night bc i did some writing before and scheduled it all. it should last till mid-february.

also, there's a tag game scheduled to post on the 31st and i don't have the energy to reschedule it in my current state, but please don't let my absence hold you back and participate if you want to. i promise i'm still reading your comments and asks and all. i just don't have the energy to reply and i'm afraid my responses will just sound insincere / flat because right now all i'm feeling is numbness. and i'm sorry if this all sounds flat too but i just had to let this out.

explanation / rant utc. tw: death.

my cousin passed away this morning.

he has been dealing with hepatitis b for over a month. he was admitted to the hospital suddenly and everything just went downhill starting from there. his liver failed and the only option was to find a donor. we found around 10+ people who seemed to match the criteria but they all failed the various checks; from 'their liver is incompatible' to the most ridiculous reason like 'they have no relations to the patient', we heard it all.

me and him - we weren't best friends or anything like that, but we were close enough to consider renting an apartment so i can live there and he can use the spare rooms as offices. as a young child who had no idea how family relationships work, i remember having a tiny crush on him, because i thought he was handsome and nice. he helped me a lot when i was adjusting my life abroad, treating me to meals and using his car to help me move. he had two young kids and a wife. he was only 43 when he passed.

the world could have saved him but they chose not to.

at first. i just feel... numb. with the occasional tears. this isn't my first time dealing with loss. i remember my grandmothers' deaths. one of them just passed two years ago, yesterday. it didn't hurt this much. i'm unsure why. maybe because i interacted with her mostly when i was younger and never really saw her much when i got older, so my memories with her are more blurry and smudged. but not my cousin.

the worst thing is that... today was supposed to be a personal celebration of mine. a key milestone in my life of sorts. we've worked to make this possible for months. but to be more specific it's a culmination of years of effort. to put it simply - i'm supposed to be signing the final agreement to buy my first house this afternoon. and i'm so torn because while i do feel sad for his passing away, there's a part of me - a selfish, horrible part of me - that thinks it's unfair.

it was supposed to be my day. it was supposed to be a happy day. and even as the next year comes, on this day, it will never be a happy day. it will always be a death anniversary and nothing else. when my family sees my house, what will they think of? would they still feel proud? when they move in, would they still do it with excitement? or would they feel dread from the event associated with it? and now i feel so guilty because how can i think like this? and now i'm starting to think, am i even allowed this? am i allowed to celebrate what i accomplished, when my other family members are grieving? is it right for me to burden my family with this when they should be grieving? why why why did it have to happen today? it's so unfair. it's all just so unfair.

my head feels so full, yet i feel so empty.

#rin rambles #tw.death #tw.vent

17 notes · View notes

theirnamewaslove · 18 days

Text

YOU CANT COME IN THE ROOM!

The Room I moved my whole life into

Where My Mascara Still lied untouched for 5 weeks

My Panties still in the Corner of the Basket

All of my Clothes and My things here

I made a Honeycombed Home out of His apartment

And in still it was not somewhere I could call home, nor was any place I could call Home.

A life to the Family Shelter system is what I endured. While he ate and drank in the Home I decorated for US, as always he got what he wanted out of me and

....

I stood on business &

Told him he was responsible for this life too even if I was losing it but tbh He thought I deserved it .

He held me Responsible

Responsible for who I held. Responsible to Help take care of me like he used to when I was sick with a cold. We needed Responsible.

But the first 5 letters of that is Response Minus the E.

And Thats what his responses ran on

...E ...

Like the First and Last Letters of his name

Fucking

Empty

..........................

He wanted to do nothin but fall asleep while im speaking to him

like Im nothing,

.....

slammed the door in my face

& fell somber Asleep like those who are used to Chaos & become the ones who inflicts it. They Sleep The Best at Night.

.......

After he let me miscarry by myself, said he wanted to be there for me over the phone

and when It was time

He dreamt of Better things he could be doing with his time than to hear me suffer

and when he woke there was nothing more that he enjoyed than to see it

Day 3 I continued to lose any blood I could possibly have left but there was just

more ..

But Baby, Did you have time to go so soon?

Could I tell you I love you While I feel You form Once more?

Can My Stomach stay full & Round for one more day? Just for one more hour?

And we can play house and pretend?

But this is what got us into this mess in the first place....

*Why Does Everyone have to Leave?*

*Why?*

Please. Stay. But if you have to go. Please.

Dont

I never wanted you to leave.

I know I said I did once & I swallowed my Tongue as I did.

Love,

I didnt mean it that way.....:

I just wanted Safe

I just wanted to save you from him.

My heart raced at the thought of him using you to get to me

How he'd take you away to himself So that he could hurt me

But

Just know

You were never A Pawn in this mess

....

But... (hate to say)

your Donor would have treated you as one

Sometime until you were old enough to speak for yourself like Your Big Brother not even the

I Still I feel I have failed your brothers first years

Your Dad Grew up in the Foster System & Knew it like the back of his handcuffs... but I ended up in some Trying to protect your Brother

How the Fuck Does that Happen

Lying to the court under Oath

Thats how

I belive the word is Stupid,

for believing I could Believe in Him

Maybe I shouldve kept my mouth shut

"Do the right thing!"

Rang in my head. And from Pressured family members.

But the hairs stood up on my arms before I told you and I contemplated if it was a mistake to

"Do the right thing"

The Generic "Right thing" isnt right for everyone (something I wish I wouldve told my younger self)

But Only God Knows

And His Love is a mighty one

But like Old habits they die hard

& the only kind of "love" your "Father" knows

Is A. Toxic one

.....

He Looks at me with a smile on his face

Do .you .need. A. Hug?

No love behind his Eyes

No Comfort in his Smile

Just.. Humorless Sarcasm.

Like a Lion waiting for its Prey

His Once beautiful smile turned Grim in full Effect

Like he'd waiting for a moment to comfort me and take it away

Like a Candy

From

....

Do. You. Need. A. Hug ?

What I wanted to say was yes. But what l actually said was, no I need a fuck.

And he stopped in his tracks

His Smile fell still

Expression Went Blank

He didnt expect a quick response like that.

........

.....

**and not from you**

He stood Silent & His Breathe Stopped Short

Yeah, I said I could lay A fuck to someone else bc thats the only thing that couldve made him feel even a decimal Of how He made US Feel ...

But it wasnt True

didnt

have

any

fucks

to give anymore

0 notes

kingsuckjin · 3 years

Text

Company Policy -JJK

- Pairing: coworker Jungkook x reader

- Genre: established relationship? Sort of

- Rating:18+

- Words: 5k

- Summary: Eight months. Eight months you have regretted breaking off being fuck buddies with your hot coworker. You were so afraid of being caught with him but now that you’ve had time to think, would it really be so bad as long as you could have him all to yourself again? Does he even like you anymore? Has he moved on? All you know is it’s been eight months since you’ve had sex, he’s been all you could think about. Now he’s looking pretty hot at this office party.

- Warnings: pining, explicit content, public sex, they fuck on a coworker’s desk, public sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, heavy dirty talk, brief mention of oral sex and a ton of other past sexual acts like thigh riding and hair pulling, kind of jealous tattooed kook, not voyurism but someone else is there at some point, and finally a dash of fluff.

- A/n: This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click >here< to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! Thank you so incredibly much to the donor @lcksndkys for donating and commissioning this, you are an absolute angel, I hope you know that. I might’ve gotten a bit carried away and wrote a few thousand more words than planned, but you deserve it.

“Morning,”

“Morning.” Was the greeting between you and Jungkook every morning when you stepped into the elevator, coffee in hand.

That was it, that was all you ever said to each other anymore. His smell always floated around the confined space making your mind flashback to what once was before you quickly pushed it away from your brain.

Neither of you ever said anything about it, it was like it had never even happened and sometimes you wonder if it even had or if your brain had made up everything that had happened eight months ago from your frequent dirty thoughts of your coworker. It felt like a lifetime ago. The familiarity of him, his smell, his smile, his voice along with the cold distance, avoidance to even look at you, and the constant wonder of him having someone else made you a little sick at your stomach.

You had decided to break things off… as if either of you were any more than fuck buddies. You knew that if anyone at work had ever found out about the two of you, you’d most likely both be fired. No banging other employees was a pretty strict policy there and you remembered the two nice ladies that were fired last year for it, you remembered it because your boss had made such an example of it.

You had been more than paranoid when you and Jungkook were boning for a whole month, you both had been so secretive even going as far as to have each other park down the street from your houses when the other came over. It didn’t help that you lived with your sister and didn’t want her to know you were sneaking someone in the house and screwing them. It also didn’t help that his roommate worked there too and didn’t get along at times. It didn’t seem like all the effort to sneak around was worth it at the time, but now you felt like you had a mistake.

As you took your seat behind the reception desk and began to put away your things for the morning, you just kept stealing glimpses of him doing the same at his cubicle. Every morning he would put his black messenger bag under his desk, turn on his computer, and roll the sleeves of his white button-up shirt up to reveal one very tattooed arm. His wavy hair was usually put back into a half ponytail for professionalism and probably so he could see, but there were always strands that managed to escape his hair elastic throughout the day. It was painful mentally at times having a view of him but trying not to look, it was painful knowing he wouldn’t look back at you anymore. You could still feel what it was like when he had glanced at you and smiled at you, your heart sped up at just the thought.

“Ugh why are you always here so early, you leave before I even wake up.” his roommate,Jimin, had walked in, looking great as usual but a bit tired in the face. He was lingering around Jungkook’s desk with his things still in hand.

“I like to be prepared, unlike you.” Jungkook joked back with a smile but you knew it was just more than a joke, Jungkook really didn't care for Jimin, he was a bit too spiteful towards him sometimes.

He had always come in early, you both were typically the first ones here besides the janitor. You had to be, your boss liked you here nice and early to greet everyone as they walked in.

“You coming to the thing tonight? The boss is letting us have booze.” Jimin asked him.

You felt like you really shouldn’t be paying attention to the conversation so you went back to sipping your coffee and getting ready to start the day.

“Hey.”

It nearly scared you to death as you rummaged through your bag under the desk for your chapstick. Your body jolted up to see Jimin leaning one arm on the reception counter.

“What?” you asked in confusion, wondering what he was now doing hanging around you with such a sly smirk.

“Well good morning to you too. Are you going to the party tonight? Boss is having a thing to celebrate meeting our yearly product sales goal.”

“I… haven’t thought about it, why?” you were honest, it didn’t mean anything to you.

“I know we have this policy, but you should think about going with me.” he gave you a wink that made you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “We could come here and have a few drinks and a good time, then we could go back to my place and-”

“How about we don’t? We could just not do that.” you gave him a very fake smile.

Sudden loud coughing erupted through the room making you both look over at the source.

Jungkook was doubled over with his coffee still in his hand.

“You good?” Jimin asked him casually and Jungkook gave a thumbs up to show he was fine, even though his big eyes were slightly teary before holding up his coffee cup to signify he had strangled on his coffee.

“Anyway, if you’re worried about someone saying something about us, you could just come separately and we could just see what happens…”

“I’m not worried because there is no us, Jimin. I’ll come, but let’s not see what happens, and let’s not even speak.”

“Your loss. At least I’ll have Jungkook there with me.” Jimin responded along with a shrug to your savage words before walking away.

You looked over to Jungkook to make sure he hadn’t died because he was no longer choking, you just wanted to make sure he was still breathing but your eyes were met with his. He was giving you this gaze before he raised his eyebrows at you with a slight momentary smirk, it all only lasted less than a split second before he adjusted his black tie and turned back around to face his desk.

How could he be so casual with a look like that at you? How could he be so casual with everything that had happened between you? You had no idea what that look was about but it had your brain so frazzled. It could’ve been nothing, but it was the most interaction you’ve had with him in so long, all it had done was remind you how starved for him you were.

You looked down at your desk feeling your face get a little warm.

Images of that very shirt he was wearing right now, being unbuttoned rapidly with those tattooed fingers in some dark, sketchy hotel room ran through your mind.

“I wish you knew how much I’d go through to be this close to you, to be inside of you.” The memory of his words and hushed voice into your skin gave you goosebumps.

The same man who had said that now sat right over there, not even having tried to flirt with you in the past eight months as you sat here and wondered why you do this to yourself.

Did he still feel that way or had he just meant it at the moment? There were plenty at the moment things that he had said that would flood into your mind just to hurt you when you saw him.

You glanced at him throughout the day as you often did.

You avoided each other on your lunch break, stepping around each other to get to the vending machines in the break room.

You ate at your desk alone while he ate with Jimin in the break room.

Things were the same as they had been, the look he had given you earlier meant nothing, maybe nothing that had happened in the past meant nothing to him too.

Maybe it was all just fun like you both had planned for it to be, if so, why were you still so stuck on it? Why were you stuck on him? You told yourself it was just because he was attractive, the most gorgeous man in the office, but there were just these little things about him you couldn’t get over. The way he stretched and grunted in the morning, you knew the way he liked his coffee, you knew his parents’ names. You had both shared so much of your lives for an entire month almost constantly until you ripped it away from yourself so stupidly. You had both agreed to delete each other’s numbers, but the truth was, you still kept his name in your phone with little hearts by his name. You needed this to end, you needed to stop being so hung up on him because he wasn’t with you. You decided to go to this thing tonight and at least hope for some answers, if you failed to get any you would do your best to stop thinking about him.

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

You had talked yourself out of this more than five times already, but you had gotten dressed and ready and made the drive over.

You now sat in the office parking lot just picking lint off of your black dress, not looking forward to how awkward this might be. In your years of working there, you had mostly just kept to yourself… until the thing with Jungkook happened.

“Are you nervous? You look nervous” he gave you a little smile from across the table from the coffee shop. He had asked you to get coffee after work and he could see right through you

“A little.” You had admitted.

“Don’t be shy, it’s just me. It’s just Jungkook, we work together every day.”

“Don’t be nervous.” You found yourself saying out loud to yourself as you gazed out your windshield at the building. “I shouldn’t be. I work with him every day and nothings going to happen anyway.” You hurt yourself a little with the last part. You put a lot more care into how you looked tonight than you wanted to admit.

“It’s just a stupid office party,” you grumbled to yourself before unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car, if it was horrible or boring then you could just go home.

-----

You didn’t know what you had expected, but it wasn’t this. You had followed the signs to the floor that had held a large meeting room, but it didn’t look like a meeting room now.

It was just a room full of people with a snack table and alcohol. The room was dimmed but there were some cheap party effects lighting things happening. People were laughing and talking over some pop music that wasn’t eardrum-bustlingly loud but you still had to strain to hear over. You spotted a lot of coworkers you saw every day, more that you didn’t know from different departments though. You kind of just went and stood by a wall with your eyes searching faces, not stopping too long on any just in case they might think you were staring at them. Before you had left you wondered if you had been too dressed up, but now you were glad for your little black dress as you saw what the others were wearing. Everyone looked so nice and not at all what you were used to them wearing.

While your eyes were going over who was talking to who, you found him.

In the corner of the room on the opposite end, talking to some girl you had only seen a handful of times. She was touching her hair and smiling at him. He looked so dressed down in his ripped black jeans and a black t-shirt. His tattoos were freed as you had always liked seeing and his hair wasn’t being held back. You had seen him like this multiple times, but had anyone else? He had always looked so good like this, so himself.

Just seeing his hair down reminded you of all the times you had grabbed at it while moaning his name. Seeing him in those black ripped jeans reminded you of all the times he has made you ride his chiseled, hard thighs until you came multiple times.

You felt like you had been kicked in the heart as your brain went back to the present moment and saw her placing a hand on his shoulder.

He laughed at something she had said but took a step back out of her grasp smoothly before giving her a small wave. A few more words were exchanged before she apprehensively walked away from him, heaving him alone to stand at the wall on the other side of the room.

Your eyes darted away from him and over to the snack and drink table, you weren’t planning on getting any, but you wanted to make it look that way.

You felt nervous, he looked good and at least one other person had noticed. You told yourself that the lady who had just spoken to him didn’t know him as you did, she probably just saw a hot guy dressed in black with tattoos… just like you had when you both had started whatever happened. He was more than all of that, to you especially now after you had a lot of time to think about it all.

Although you didn’t want your eyes to, they had darted to him for a split second to see he had his phone out… until he looked up from it at you.

He had seen you, he had seen you looking at him from across the room, but he didn’t react. Instead, his eyes went back down to his phone, and yours went back to the table.

Your phone buzzed in your bag and you decided to fish it out thinking it could help you look busy.

“Hey, it’s Jungkook. I see you :)”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your mouth as you read the text.

He hadn’t deleted your number just like you hadn’t his.

You felt his eyes watching you but you didn’t look up. He was waiting for your reply, but you just stood there dumbfounded that he had just sent you a text from across the room.

“I know.” you had nervously typed different versions of this reply over and over only to erase each time before settling on the most simple reply.

“You look good.” it had taken him no time to reply in comparison to you. You stood there in shock and lost as to what to say to him. You were taking too long because he sent a second text.

“I know that dress. I remember it.”

You had been hoping he would. You had worn this dress on the first night you both had ever done anything. You made out in his car after your coffee date. He had just kept telling you how pretty you looked even with his hand in your underwear. It was hard to resist him from even the first date, you had no idea how you had made it eight months now.

“You look nice too, you always have.” You typed and sent it quickly before you could change your mind.

You watched him run his inked fingers through his hair as he read the text. You could swear you saw a flash of a smile on his face before his thumbs went to work on his phone.

“I miss you.” Popped up on your screen.

Part of you felt like crying a little. You felt his eyes on you once again and you looked up away from your phone to see that your feeling had been correct. You were sure your mouth was open as you locked eyes from across the room. Your phone vibrated again in your hand.

“We should talk.”

“Hey, gorgeous!” Jimin stepped in front of you making you lock your phone. “I know you said let’s not talk but-“

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“How could I not? You’re the prettiest one here.” He smirked but you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes.

“Oh hey! I’ve been looking for you!” Jungkook now walked up with a smile at you. “You found her for me and didn’t even know I was looking, thanks, man.” Jungkook seemed to be thanking an equally confused as you Jimin.

“Sorry to bother you about work stuff at a party, but I forgot to earlier. I need the contact info to a client I’ve been working on to sell more products to. It’s wild, it’s like I went to the bathroom one day and the info to this big buyer just kinda… disappeared I guess. So weird, almost like someone has it out for me.” Jungkook gave the fakest joking laugh you had ever seen and Jimin looked a bit wide-eyed. “Anyway, You’re the receptionist so I know you have the contact info for everyone anyway so I was wondering if you could maybe help me out and get it for me? It’s kind of really important and I need it ASAP. Already asked the boss and he said it was cool.”

Jimin had just kind of slinked off silently, but you knew what Jungkook was doing.

“Yeah, Uh of course.” You nodded.

He tilted his head in the direction of the door before you followed him out.

He led you towards the elevator in absolute silence and even as he pushed the button for the floor you both worked on he said nothing.

You were beginning to think he was wanting your help. And then you thought about it more in the silent ride and you felt so stupid. Of course he was wanting your help, he had never said he actually didn’t, not even when Jimin had walked away.

“I can’t believe that asshole sabotaged me like that. My roommate sabotaged my sale.” He mumbled before scoffing as the elevator door opened.

“I-I’ll help.” You said but he passed right by your desk.

“I’m glad you said that.” He replied as he walked over to Jimin’s cubicle.

“What are we doing?” You finally asked.

“Depends…” he raised an eyebrow as he looked back at you. “What do you want me to do?”

You swallowed the lump of nervousness in your throat to speak as you looked into his mischievous-looking dark eyes.

“Whatever you want I guess.”

He lifted you in almost an instant and sat you on Jimin’s desk.

“You know he’s always liked you, right? He would tell on us if he ever found out. You were willing to risk it, right here right now?” He dared.

Instead of speaking you grabbed a fist full of his t-shirt and tugged him down until his lips met yours.

God did you want it. You have wanted for eight long months. You were willing to risk everything after so long without his lips on yours.

You were still nervous but his kiss brought it all back for you and how natural it felt.

“Fuck me.” You pleaded against his lips.

“You need it? Tell me you need it.” His lips moved to your neck as he ran a hand through the back of your hair.

“Ah, fuck I need it. I haven’t fucked anyone since you.” It slipped out of your mouth and got a second your body went rigid.

“Me neither.” He nipped at your neck.

The second thing he had done tonight that had stunned you.

“Wait.” You stopped him and he backed up to look at you.

“I missed you too. Not just… not just this, I missed you. I don’t know if you feel the same but-“

“What did you think I meant by I missed you? I didn’t just mean the sex or your body. I meant you as a person.”

“I-why didn’t you just say?” You wondered out loud.

He dropped to the floor on his knees between your legs.

“Cause you dumped me.” He let out a snort “you told me to delete your number, which surprise, I didn’t. You wouldn’t look at me. Plus this went two ways you know. You didn’t contact me either.” He stated as he looked up at you while ghosting his fingers over the skin of your thighs as he spoke.

“I dumped you?” You were surprised by this news. You know neither of you had had the relationship talk before.

“I mean, I like to think we were together.”

“Then we should be again,” you decided. You were tired of wanting him and not having him and something told you that he felt the same.

“I think so too,” he whispered, inching his lips closer and closer to yours before smashing into them.

His hands squeezed at the meat of your thighs before trailing them up the sides, up under your skirt, and hooking them in your panties. Your tongues whipped together in each other’s mouths. You managed to move so that he could get your panties down, but he only pulled them to your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the table, so close you thought you might fall off if he wasn’t right there between your legs.

His fingers now slowly ran from your inner thighs to your folds. As soon as he touched you, you unlocked your lips from his and let out a shaky breathed whine.

“I can tell you missed me. You're so wet for me,” he whispered so quietly just for you to hear even though no one else was in the room.

You did your best to stay quiet as his fingers teasingly and slowly ran over your clit and back down to your cunt.

He lifted his slick fingers to his mouth and you watched with a slightly open mouth as he let them slide past his lips and then out of his mouth altogether, coming out more glossy from his spit.

“I missed the way you taste”

His even more wet fingers that now teased at your pussy were making you want to grab his hand and force it to do something more. You were practically shaking under even the slightest of his touches. You were nervous for someone to walk in at any given moment and all he was doing was drawing things out and letting his fingers kill precious time playing in your folds.

“I'd love to make you cum right now with my mouth” he pressed a kiss onto your neck where his face had been camping out while his fingers tortured you. “But I know how that makes you scream and we have to be very…” another kiss to your neck “very” his fingers finally slowly slipped into your cunt “very quiet.” his whispers tapered off to quieter and quieter, so much so that your shaking breaths felt loud between the both of you.

You were doing your best not to break out into full-blown moans so that maybe if someone walked in you could play it off as just talking or something else, as long as no one heard your moans on the way up the both of you could have time to look normal.

His fingers curled inside of you with his palm grinding down onto your clit slowly.

“Oh God.” you breathed not knowing how you were supposed to survive this. He was all you wanted for months upon months and now that you had him here, tattooed hand knuckle deep in your pussy, his lips on your skin saying nothing but filth, you felt like you couldn't even let go as much as you wanted to, but you were trying.

His hand sped up its movements as you could feel how hard he was now in his jeans against the inside of your thigh.

Your lips squeezed together but it couldn’t stop the small whimpers he forced out of you. You could hear him breathing in your ear along with the wet sounds of your pussy. You were close but so scared. Doing this out in the open was such a thrill but it also made you paranoid.

“Cum for me. I hear the way you’re whining, you’re so close I know it. Just cum for me. Cum around my fingers, no one will know.”

You couldn’t stop it now.

You grabbed a hold of his shirt and forced his chest harder against yours, you wanted him closer, impossibly close as you came undone, clenching around his fingers rhythmically as each wave of pleasure pulsed through your body.

He let out a little moan at the sound and feel of you coming.

“I missed that too.” He whispered to himself before pulling his fingers out of you slowly.

He reached between you and you felt him quickly yet nervously fiddling with his button and zipper with his hand that wasn’t soaked in your wetness.

He made a show about taking his thick, veiny cock out of his pants and rubbing your juices from his hand over it.

In seconds he was back in your ear.

“Can I fuck your brains out?” The whisper was soft, his voice was sweet but the words themselves were as hard as his dick he still stroked in his hand.

“You're always allowed brains out.” You whispered back “just do it.”

You felt his head run over your folds teasingly as he continued to play with you and himself.

“Do you still think about me fucking your brains out?” He asked. You could hear how much wetness had spread from you to his cock with each pump of his hand.

“Every time I need to get off.” You admitted. “So give it to me so I don’t have to keep wishing anymore.”

He pushed into you slowly, letting out a deep sigh and throwing his head back for a moment so you could see his perfectly sculpted throat.

You missed how full he made you feel while he was inside of you.

He pulled out almost entirely, the head of his cock was the only thing left inside of you, pushing on your g-spot before the thrust back in hard. This was the way he fucked, pulling out almost entirely so his head hit where you needed it. You had experienced guys that just flopped around, but he knew you, he knew your body, he paid attention, he had a very special handcrafted way to get you off over and over until you were shaking.

One of his hands grabbed your hip while the other went to your clit to play with using his thumb.

“You miss this, baby?” You miss my dick between your legs?” His lips brushed with your parted and panting ones as he spoke.

You let out a whimper as you focused on your second orgasm, his hips were not letting up and neither was his lips that whispered pure filth.

“Want me to cum inside of you, make you not want to forget me and who you belong to? Right here on Jimin's desk.”

Your eyes squeezed shut and you clutched at the fabric of his shirt as you were once again thrown into pure pleasure.

You couldn’t help it this time. The way he touched you, the way he felt inside of you, his grunts and words were all too much.

“Please, fucking cum inside of me, I want it all fuck you feel so good.” You cried out way too loudly.

“Oh my god, fuck.” He breathed through pants as his hips pounded into yours. You felt him release inside of you. Your walls clenched around him upon hearing his long deep guttural moan.

“I haven’t cum like that in…” he panted before letting out a little chortle of laughter “well in eight months.”

“So,” there was a loud voice in the room making your heads turn and your stomach’s sink. “You fucked on my desk.” Jimin looked beyond angry as he sat in an office chair across the room with his phone in his hand, pointing it at the both of you. You had no idea when or how he had come in, but you knew you were both beyond physically fucked.

Jungkook had already scrambled to pull out of you and zip his pants back up as you jumped off the desk, pulled your underwear up, and smoothed out your dress.

“That's fine, I have you both on video. I really liked you y/n. Jungkook, Looks like I’m moving out.” he stood from the chair and headed towards the direction of the elevator. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to speak to our boss about this. He probably won't be too happy to see you two are breaking company policy.”

“Fuck company policy and fuck you! You were an awful friend, roommate and you've always been jealous of me!” Jungkook yelled at him back.

“Not anymore, jobless.” Jimin turned back to give Jungkook a smirk before he stepped into the elevator.

With that, you were both just left there.

“I… I am so so sorry…” Jungkook began apologetically and just as stunned as you were.

“Don’t be, we’re too good for this job anyway, we can find new ones. It looks like you need a new roommate now though.”

You watched his face as a small smile grew on it.

“Yeah, looking for someone prettier and nicer, maybe someone willing to be my girlfriend? I don't know though, I don’t want to make too many demands.”

“Well I could meet all of those demands.” you played along. “We won't have to sneak around anymore.”

“Yes, please, yes. I uh- don't want to ruin the cute moment, but I think we should get out of here before Jimin brings the boss up.”

“Oh fuck, right. Uhh, we should probably just never come back too. Let’s just grab our stuff from our desks and make a run for it.”

“Let's go. You know, this is simultaneously the best, worst, most exciting, and most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me,” he said and you couldn't help but laugh and agree.

Maybe the both of you had made a big mistake, but perhaps there could be good that came from it. You had him back and honestly you didn’t feel too bad about trading your dumb job with its dumb company policy for him.

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traincat · 2 years

Note

ok so i saw your twitter post with what i presume are fic excerpts of peter and kaine talking about the whole "doc ock hijacked my body for a hot minute" stuff and. PLEASE tell me that's a thing you plan to post publicly because I Am Looking Respectfully And Excitedly

It's a thing I plan to post publicly! (Eventually.) Those were excerpts from what I call The Kaine Murder Mystery Fic, which is a gen (with regrettable original male character one night stand) Kaine-centric fic that revolves pretty heavily around repairing his relationship with Peter in the wake of Superior Spider-Man, canon divergent after Kaine's New Warriors run.

Anyway, happy Thanksgiving, here's some Kaine and May:

“Kaine,” Peter said, holding out a hand. His smile was crooked and melancholy in the moonglow. “Come inside already.”

“After everything I did to you,” Kaine said, his voice thick, his eyes stinging. And to Ben went unspoken. He’d tortured Ben, tormented him. He’d hounded him for years, and then poor Janine, caught up in their miserable web, and everything he’d done to her. How he’d hurt her, because Ben loved her, and because he saw himself in her. “How can you just –”

“Kaine,” Peter repeated. “You died for me. I think that settles the score.”

“That can’t be enough,” Kaine said, hating himself for every word. “Everything I – everything…”

“Hey,” Peter said, yanking at him, pulling him into himself. Kaine found himself crowded against him, Peter’s hand on his back, as Peter whispered, “It’s okay. You’re my brother. It’s okay.”

He fought the hug for a moment, or tried to, anyway. If he wanted to push Peter off, he could’ve. If he wanted to knock Peter flat on his ass and disappear around the back of the house and over the gate, he could’ve. Instead he pushed weakly at his chest like a petulant child and then he sagged forward, a strange noise caught in his throat.

Peter caught him.

“It’s okay,” Peter repeated, his fingers combing through Kaine’s hair. It was comforting in a way Kaine didn’t know what to do with, as if Peter were really his big brother and not his unwilling genetic donor. “Come inside. She wants to see you.”

“She doesn’t,” Kaine croaked. “She shouldn’t.”

Still, he let Peter pull him forward, into that warm circle of porchlight, and there she was, standing in the doorway, one small hand on the jam. She was wearing an old cardigan over a dress, and her steel grey hair glowed in the light from inside the house. May Parker.

She gasped when she saw him, her hand flying to her mouth.

“It’s true,” she said in a numb tone, staring up at him, at the face that must have been as familiar to her as her own. “Peter said, but – oh, you – you do look just like him, you are --"

“Yeah,” he said, voice rough. There was nothing else he could say to that.

“What’s your name?” she asked, her voice coming out as hardly more than a breath from between her fingers.

“Peter didn’t – he didn’t tell you?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. Peter’s face remained impassive, his hands tucked in his pockets as he leaned in the doorframe.

“He did,” May said softly. “I want to hear it from you.”

Kaine swallowed hard, throat prickling. “Kaine.”

He didn’t expect her to smile.

“Such a name,” she said with that same light teasing Peter so easily employed. Slowly, she reached up to touch his cheek, and Kaine’s eyes burned at the corners. “Did you pick it?”

He shook his head. He couldn’t tell her that the Jackal had called him Peter when he’d been newly cloned and surface perfect, and Kaine when he’d started to fail.

“Oh,” she said, staring into his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart. Come here.”

His knees gave out under him and he almost dragged her to the floor with him. He clutched handfuls of her cardigan, pressed his face to her stomach, breathed in the smell of her: powdery laundry detergent, rose perfume, maple syrup. Before he knew it, there were tears coursing hard and angry down his face, dripping down his nose onto the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Kaine sobbed, shaking his head even as she cupped the back of it. He wanted to treasure this moment, the feeling of May’s fingers sliding through his hair, but all he felt was the awful shame coursing hot through his veins. “I’m so sorry, forgive me, please forgive me –"

“Shh,” she said, getting down on the floor with him so she could wrap her arms around him and press his face to her shoulder. She laid her cheek against his hair. “Shh, Kaine. It’s alright.”

His entire body ached. His throat felt like it might close up. He thought he might never stop crying.

Someone got him onto the couch – it must have been Peter, since there was no way May could support his frame. Still, as soon as he was there she took him in her arms again and held him close, shushing as he sobbed.

No one had ever held him like that before.

#*replies #myfic #kaine parker #may parker #peter parker

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 3 years

Text

Accidentally In Love

Prologue

Summary: After her latest failed relationship, Y/n begins to worry that her chance at a happily ever after is passing her by. Wanting to take things into her own hands, she decides on using a sperm donor to start her family. Only thing is, she has set her sight on her best friend, Dean Winchester, as the father.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1K+

Warnings: Language, slight anxiety, references to pornography

Author’s Note: Here she is, my next series! This was a stupid idea encouraged by @winchest09 This story is planned to be short and sweet. It is much lighter than my usual MO. I would love to know what y’all think of this one as I can’t say I’m not nervous. Feedback is crack my fellow humans, xoxo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

It was the third time his verdant eyes scanned over the paragraph etched into the glossy paper of the magazine he gripped tight in his hands. Still, his brain was failing to process the message the words were meant to convey. Something about why people shouldn’t paint their bedrooms warm colors, he couldn’t be sure at this point, but he made a note to ask his best friend about it later.

“Mr. Winchester?” The sound of his name snapped Dean from his fourth failed attempt at reading the article he had haphazardly flipped to when he had first sat in the lobby.

“Mmm?” He looked up to the source, seeing a smiling middle-aged woman standing in the entrance to the back of the clinic.

“We are ready for you now,” she relayed patiently, her warm grin never faltering.

“Oh, right,” Dean chuckled awkwardly, tossing the magazine back onto the side table before rising to follow after the woman. He stayed half a step behind her as she led him down a short hallway, taking note of the various baby-related items on her ill-fitting scrubs.

The nurse stopped at the end of the hall and pushed open the wooden door, allowing Dean to pass her and enter the small room. It was seemingly no different from any other patient room in a doctor’s office. The walls were a cold and sterile shade of white that matched the tile floor and cabinetry. The only noticeable differences were the lack of an exam bed and the addition of a roll-away television that reminded Dean of the same ones his numerous teachers would use on movie day in elementary school.

“It’s a fairly simple process,” the nurse started when the door shut behind the pair. She moved over to the cabinet and pulled out a small sample cup, tagging it with a patient sticker from the file she had carried into the room with her. “All we need is your sample in the cup. When you are done, leave it on the warmer here, and then we will schedule you for the follow-up testing.”

“Right,” Dean husked out as his tongue pulled back his plush lower lip and caught it between his teeth. He shuffled from foot to foot as the nurse continued to smile.

“You okay? You look a tad flush?” “

Sure, I’m kosher,” he answered, though the hitch of his voice contradicted the words he uttered.

“It’s okay to feel awkward. Some guys get weirded out, knowing that everyone out there knows what you are doing in here,” she noted, a smidge of amusement slipping past the sympathetic facade she was trying to uphold.

“Thanks for that,’ Dean huffed out, feeling the breath of his words allowing his shoulders the slump just enough for him to notice he had been unconsciously tense.

“You know what to do.” The nurse tossed him a wink, causing the man to breathe out a forced laugh.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“We have magazines and videos if you need them,” she set the cup down on the table with the lid placed next to it. “Please just holler if you need something.”

Dean watched as she slowly closed the door behind her, letting out a sigh as it clicked closed and rushing to engage the lock. He let his weight slump against the cherry oak, the cool wood feeling refreshing against his flush skin.

“What the fuck am I doing?” he muttered to himself, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to will away the thumping behind his ribcage. Every warning uttered to him from friends and family was racing through his brain, screaming at him to run from the clinic and never look back.

Each one had its merit, but there was something else, something far louder in the back of his head that was telling him to stay. Dean had never thought of himself as father material, he had too many unprocessed traumas resulting from his own to scare him off of the deal altogether. Somehow though, when she had asked him, it all seemed to click inside his brain. If there was ever a time or a person with whom to bring a child into this world, it was now and she was Y/n.

His best friend. The woman he talks to round the clock, who laughs at his lame jokes and understands his John Wayne references because he’s forced her to watch the actor’s movies dozens of times with him. She’s the person that was there for him when his mother got sick and the only one able to steal a smile from him after her passing.

It all made sense, he wanted to do this for his best friend because this is what she wanted. And yet, he knew this meant they would cross a line in their friendship that wasn’t meant to be crossed. Linking themselves together by another human being; another soul. No matter what stipulations or custody agreements Sam threw in their contract, it all could turn out so… messy.

“I can’t,” Dean mumbled to himself, pushing himself from the doorframe and unlatching the lock, dead set on telling Y/n that he just couldn’t do it anymore. He would tell her whatever she needed to hear if it meant their friendship went back to the way things were before that asshole broke her final hope of ever finding her happily ever after.

The handle turned under his sweaty palm when a small vibration in his pocket alerted him to an incoming message. Dean backtracked, releasing his hold on the handle, and pulled his cell from his jeans. There were two messages from Y/n, her name in his notifications making him crack a grin that pulled on one corner of his lips.

Y/n: bustyasianbeauties.com

Y/n: Ya know, just in case ;)

The Winchester brother snorted out a laugh, shaking his head at her antics. It was as if she knew the turmoil wracking his consciousness at the moment and, in classic Y/n fashion, used her perfect comedic timing to lighten the nerves fraying his heart.

Dean stowed the phone back in his jeans before engaging the lock on the door once again.

Forevers: @22sarah08 @440mxs-wife @akshi8278 @anathewierdo @asgoodasdancingqueen @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @briagallen @callmekda @dawnie1988 @deandreamernp @deangirl93 @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @janicho88 @jarpad24 @jbsgirl4ever11 @jensengirl83 @lunarmoon8 @lyarr24 @mishacollins4evah @mrsjenniferwinchester @msmarvelouswinchester @polina-93 @sleepylunarwolf @spnbaby-67 @squirrelnotsam @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @suckmyapplejacks @supraveng @tatted-trina6 @thoughts-and-funnies @traceyaudette @tranquility-or-chaos @watermelonlipstick @waywardbeanie @winchest09

AIL: @aspiringsloth20 @samsgirl93 @smellingofpoetry @starryeyeseunbyul @stoneyggirl @that-one-gay-girl @tvdspngirl314

gif by @kendaspntwd

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calif0rnia-lovers · 3 years

Text

#1: the proposal | plan b.

pairing: angel reyes x black!reader | chapter rating: 💙

total # of parts in series: 10

join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

I keep falling for boys and mistaking them for men

series sum: After several failed relationships, you decide that you’re over waiting for Mr. Right to come around and help start a family. In a drunken ramble, you ask your best friend if he’ll be your donor. You didn’t expect him to say yes. As you and Angel enter uncharted waters, you both realize neither of you fully thought the initial proposal through.

words: 1.8 K

What is it they say…hope breeds eternal misery.

Or, as Angel Reyes likes to say, “I don’t know why you’re wasting time on that asshole.”

Asshole is the nicest term you can dub your boyfriend--correction, your ex-boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend.

It’s strange how quickly two letters--a simple prefix--can change your life.

One minute, you’re joining your boyfriend and his family on a getaway to the beach. The next, you’re being kindly escorted out of a restaurant for tossing a drink in his face.

When you’d left Santo Padre Friday afternoon, you had a single thought in your mind. He’s finally going to propose. The nervous behavior, the talks about moving to a bigger apartment, him inviting you to a weekend getaway with his family.

How else would a rational person explain this behavior?

Well, according to Michael, all of those things do not add up to a proposal. They add up to “softening the blow."

As you sit on the curb waiting for your uber, with Michael's big splurge of the evening in hand--a bottle of Cabernet, you realize his explanation was complete bullshit. How is dragging you to Santa Monica for the weekend "softening the blow?" If he was going to break up with you, he could have done it in Santo Padre.

As you double-check the ETA on your uber, you remember.

Michael didn't drag you to Santa Monica to break up with you. He dragged you to Santa Monica to ask you to "take a break."

Apparently, there's a difference.

As Michael put it, with his birthday fast approaching, he'd had an epiphany. He needed time to "get out there" and "explore" his options.

"We're in our thirties," he'd explained. "We only have a few years left before we're expected to settle down, have kids. I think we should take this time to get everything out of our system, so by the time we come back together, we're ready to start that family you're always talking about."

The nervousness you'd seen the past two weeks? Had nothing to do with hiding a ring, or trying to find the perfect opportunity to pop the question. The nervousness was Michael trying to find the right time to ask you not to renew the lease of the apartment, you share, at the end of the month.

The talk about upgrading to a bigger apartment? Had nothing to do with having an extra room for the kid you've both talked about having. It was so that he could move in with his two best friends.

Michael’s epiphany left you in shock. You were caught between realizing the entire revelation wasn’t a complete joke and realizing you were expected to ride home with his family in the morning. The drink tossing didn’t come until Michael rubbed his hands together, a knowing smile sliding onto his face.

Taking your shocked silence as a lack of protest to his idea, Michael nodded over his shoulder. “You wanna head back up to the room...have some fun our last night together?”

The weight of Samantha--wait. No. Savanna...Sabrina? No, Salena.

The weight of Salena’s body presses Angel into the mattress. Her body is nearly directly on top of his, her face nuzzled into the warmth of his neck.

He’s not used to women sleeping over. Angel has one rule. He wants to sleep alone. Translation, be gone when he wakes in the morning.

That’s why, when he wakes to the sound of a slamming door, Angel is pissed.

His initial thought is that Salena let the door slam on her way out. The only problem is, Salena is still in bed with him--sleeping soundly. If she wasn’t, he would have been up able to react quicker. Because if it’s not Salena leaving, it means that someone is coming in.

“You need to go,” Angel mumbles as he manages to escape her grip.

Salena responds by rolling over and ignoring his request.

When he leaves his bedroom, Angel finds his entire house in darkness. His hand runs down his face as your voice fills the air.

"Ow--shit!" Your keys and purse fall to the floor as you bump into the coffee table.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

“What are you doing?” You counter the slurring of your speech causing Angel’s head to shake. “...standing in the dark like a fucking creep.”

“Are you drunk?”

Your head shakes. Even if half-asleep, Angel knows you’re not drunk. You’re hammered, at least by your standards. He’s known you long enough to realize you’re a lightweight. A two and a half-hour ride with a bottle of Cabernet meant you were well past your limit.

“And why are you back early--did you drive here?”

“No,” you scoff. “I took an uber obviously--”

A second trip into the coffee table silences the rest of your response.

“Alright, come on--” Angel takes your hand in his, preventing you from falling forward.

“I don’t need your help.” Yanking your hand free of his grip--with more force than necessary--you stumble backward. Between the late hour and his body still attempting to shake off its grogginess, the action is too fast for Angel to predict. “Or any man’s help for that matter...fucking men--always thinking they need to save me--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you--and fucking...fucking Michael--that piece of shit...” Despite your previous attempt to escape him, you turn on your heels causing Angel to bump into you. Instinctively, his hands find your waist. An innocent attempt to help maintain your balance. “--I said I don’t need help walking, Angel--”

“Clearly.” The smirk on his lips narrows your eyes.

The pathetic attempt of a shove you apply to his chest is enough to tip your already unsteady balance.

In his defense, Angel isn’t used to “rescuing” you from a drunk faceplant. Usually, the roles are reversed.

It may not be the smartest move, but it’s the quickest way to prevent another one of your escape attempts. Angel tightens his grip on your waist, pulling a small yelp from your lips as he lifts you off the ground throwing you over his shoulder.

The sudden shift in your posture blurs your vision--sending the room spinning. The rush of blood to your head causes your palm to come down hard in frustration against Angel’s back.

“Put me down…” Angel’s head shakes as your slurred speech trails off for a moment. Seizing the break in your resistance, he carries you across the darkened room towards the security of the sofa. “...what the hell are you doing in my house anyway?”

“This is my house.” Angel huffs as he lowers you onto the sofa. “If you get up, I’m not stopping you. I'm serious, I'll let you bust your ass this time.”

But moving from the sofa has already left your mind. Instead, your focus has drifted. Scanning the living room as Angel disappears. Despite his words, you're still not sure why you've ended up at his house and not yours.

“Here drink this,” Angel sighs as he returns. He hopes the glass of water will miraculously sober you up. Between failing to kick Salena out, and you showing up drunk at 3 in the morning, Angel is considering giving up women. At least for a few hours.

Angel’s steps come to a slow halt as he rounds the sofa to find you gone. Somehow, in the time it took him to fill a glass with water, you have slid down to the floor. Your back against the sofa, you’ve given up the impossible task of unfastening your heels. Instead, you’re tugging at them. Groans of frustration fill the air once the heels remain in place.

The shaky breaths and trembling of your fingers widen Angel’s eyes.

“Shit--are you crying?”

“I’m not crying.” The shaking of your head only seems to push the tears out faster. The blurring of your vision makes the task at hand impossible. “I’m not crying.”

“My bad, you’re not crying,” Angel repeats, hopeful it’ll make the crying stop. Handling a crying woman is not his strongest suit. In fact, he tries to avoid crying women at all costs. He focuses on the easier task of removing your heels. He offers you an encouraging smile once he’s done. “See, you’re all good.”

“No, I’m not.” Reaching forward, you grab the nearest heel, launching it as hard as you can. “Michael got me these.”

You manage to grab the second heel before Angel can. You launch it in the same direction as the first.

“I’ve always hated those ugly fucking shoes.”

The second heel doesn’t land in the middle of the floor like its predecessor. Instead, it flies straight into Salena’s arm as she rounds the corner.

“Ow--what the fuck? Angel!”

The overhead light cuts on, temporarily blinding both you and Angel. When you open your eyes, you find a half-dressed Salena standing over you. Your discarded heel in her left hand, her narrowed eyes focused on you.

"So, this is why you wanted me to leave? Your girlfriend is home?"

"Neither of us is his girlfriend, sweetheart." you correct.

“I’m not sleeping in your bed ever again,” you clarify, your voice muffled against your palms. “Not until you wash your sheets.”

In the time it took to get Salena out of the house you’ve found that your body has begun to crash. The idea of laying down the only thought of your mind. That’s why the moment he’s settled alongside you on the floor, Angel’s shoulder becomes your pillow.

“Please don’t say I told you so.”

Passing up the opportunity to be right, is not in Angel’s nature. But one look at you, he’s biting his tongue.

“I never liked him.”

“You've never liked anyone I’ve dated,” you laugh quietly.

“That’s because you only date assholes.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Exactly.”

Angel's arm drapes around you, the gentle squeeze he gives bringing a weak smile to your lips.

“That’s it,” you sigh. “I’m done dating. Forever.”

“Dating is overrated,” Angel notes.

It’s a phrase Angel has told you nearly a million times over the years. Typically, after you’ve watched him ensnare yet another naive woman with his smile. You typically roll your eyes at Angel's mantra, but right now, you don’t even bother.

“I’m serious, if you see me even blinking at the same guy twice grab me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Angel chuckles.

He knows there's no point in taking the promise any further. If Angel is a cynic when it comes to dating, you’re the poster child for hopeless romantics.

When you fall in love, you fall hard. When you get heartbroken, the fallout hits the hardest.

“I can’t wait until my forties to have a kid.”

“What?”

“I’ll be in my sixties when they graduate high school--my sixties!”

“That’s what this is about?”

“...he doesn’t want kids...at least not right now...he wants time to explore other options before being shackled to me forever.”

“I’m going to kick his fucking ass.”

“When you do, can I watch?”

“Fuck that, you’re getting in a few hits.”

“I can’t believe I wasted three years on him, thinking he was going to help me start a family,” you groan. “When I could’ve just asked you.”

Angel laughs, his smile growing as you giggle.

“I’m serious. Definitely would’ve happened faster.”

“If you want to have sex with me, there are much easier ways--”

“Shut up, it is not about sex,” you assure him as your eyes drift shut. “I actually pride myself in being one of the few women in this town you haven’t slept with. Being immune to your charm is a superpower.”

“You still ended up here tonight,” Angel grins.

You softly smile.

“That’s because you’re my best friend, and you always give the best hugs when I feel like shit.”

series taglist: @youlovetkay @mochachocolatteyaya @chaneajoyyy @sesamepancakes

angel + all mayans tags: @turn-thy-paige @finalgirlhales @jadesid @poetically-0riginal @diaryofkali @babaohhhriley @katastrophic04 @partypoison00 @rose-bliss @mayansxlover @joannasteez @headrushxreeta @brwnlikefoxy @nemesis729 @destiny-tsukino @inyourbackpocketisbutterflies @straightestgay-voice

all stories: @rosieposie0624 @amberritonicole @agoldin @est1887@toni9 @chaneajoyyy @relaxing-najee @awkwardtayler @siempremamita @seize-the-droid @glimmerglittergirl @cutiebubbleboo @pearlkitten33 @tian-monique @megapeacelovemusic-blog @sincerelykas @brattyfics @ladyofsoa@browneyes912 @beiroviski @sadeyesgf @mrsmarvelous1995 @everyhowlmarksthedead @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @demonquartz @appropriate-writers-name @ughdontbeboring @cocotheclown @thesandbeneathmytoes @queenbeered @starrynite7114 @wiccanmetallicrose @tomhardydallasstarsgirl

#may the queue be with you #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #mayans imagines

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

RESISTERE TENTATIONEM: CAPITULUM II

TĒCTUS: Covered, concealed, hidden, having been covered, hidden or concealed

Pairings: Damian Priest x Reader

Warnings: +18, mature content

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @ziasaph , @theworldofotps , @alyhull , @bellalutionn , @aerynscrichton , @serpantscorpio8497 , @ava-valerie , @omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts , @squirreledelman , @cazxcx , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @bayley-no-friends , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @sassymox

Notes: I would like to thank @letsgivethisonemoreshot , for not only being my partner in crime with this trilogy but also being one of the best friends someone could ever have 😘 This is fully written in Damian’s POV. If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist

Want to hear a joke that’s really in poor taste? The Mother Superior of the famous Mary Magdalene Convent (isn’t that ironic) is being accused of hosting ‘parties’ to the oh so loving convent donors. And you know who isn’t invited to those parties? Jesus Christ. Because the Devil sure loves to be a part of them! Drugs, orgies, alcohol, prostitution, even black masses... you name it! Everything that is unholy happens in the so-called house of holiness, and if that isn’t a bad taste joke, I don’t know what is.

So here I am now, driving towards the Devil’s den: the Mary Magdalene convent for three torturous days of interviews. Out of all of the reporters from The New York Times, of course I was the one who drew the short straw and got assigned this article. Some people see this as a career changing opportunity... a blessing, but me? I see it as a fucking curse! I don’t like religion, I don’t like churches, I don’t like priests and I sure as hell don’t like nuns! Anything that has the word “holy” in it, I prefer to be as far away as I possibly can from. But today was not my lucky day….no, today was the day that I was going to be tested. The only thing I’m hoping for is to not fail.

I knocked on the convent’s door and a young lady answered me.

“Hi, good morning. I’m Damian Priest, reporter from The New York Times and I’m here for an interview with” I looked down at my notepad “Mrs. Y/N L/N? Whom I believe is the Mother Superior”

The young girl only nodded once and motioned for me to follow her, without saying a word.

I followed her in, mesmerized by the size of the convent, the whole place was fancy as fuck on the inside. Art pieces from famous painters were displayed on the walls, modern furniture, dim lights that made the place look cozy and inviting. *What a scam* I thought to myself. The young lady in front of me suddenly stopped walking and pointed towards the door in front of her before turning around and leaving.

Presuming that it was the Mother Superior’s office, I knocked on the door twice before someone told me to come in. You see, when they told me I was going to be interviewing the Mother Superior of a convent, the last thing I expected was for her to not only be beautiful, but young (considering I was under the impression that women in that position were around sixty years old). She was breathtaking to say the least! Soft features, her skin had an angelic glow to it and there was something in her eyes that trapped you in them...something you could not turn your gaze away from no matter how bad you wanted to.

“Mr. Priest, please sit down” She smiled

I nodded and sat on the chair in front of her desk

“Thank you for taking some time out of your busy schedule to speak with me, Mother Y/L/N-“

“Please, call me Y/N” Her sultry voice spoke

“Y/N” I tested the word on my lips and it sounded oddly pleasant

She smiled softly and...fuck she’s gorgeous! Her beauty was a painful and constant reminder of what you couldn’t have, couldn’t touch, couldn’t-“

“Mr. Priest?” She said softly

“Damian”

“Damian, would you like something to drink? Coffee, water, juice, tea perhaps?”

“No, I’m good. Thank you” I answered, while grabbing my notepad and a pen out of my backpack. Clearing my throat, I said “Can we get started with the pre-interview?”

“Of course” She smiled widely and reached for a cigarette pack on top of the table, which made me raise an eyebrow

“We all have our dirty little secrets, don’t we, Damian?” She asked, licking the cigarette filter before sucking it

*Am I going crazy?* I thought to myself

“Damian? Your first question is?” She giggled

“Ummm” I cleared my throat once again “Y/N, recently the convent was involved in a huge scandal involving drugs, prostitution, orgies and black masses. Would you like to clarify why an institution that’s deeply connected to the church is in the middle of something so profane?”

She grinned “God is in the most profane things, Damian. After all, the sinners are the ones who need Him the most, aren’t they?”

“I’m not sure if I follow-”

“You see” She took a long drag on her cigarette and walked towards me “God is our Lord and savior. He forgives us from our sins, grants us forgiveness to our most foul actions” She sat down on the chair beside me “If you steal from someone and repent; He’ll forgive you, kill someone and repent; He’ll save you, cheat on your wife with the hot, young next door neighbor and repent; He’ll brush it underneath the carpet and pretend it never happened” She shrugged “God doesn’t judge, Damian. He only forgives” She leaned forward on the arm of the chair, until she was uncomfortably close to me “So if the big boss himself doesn't judge anyone, then why should I?”

“And what does judgment have to do with drugs, orgies and sin?”

She smiled “How can God forgive you if you don’t sin, Damian?”

“And how can God forgive his so-called followers who incite others to sin, Y/N?”

“Incite others to sin?” She chuckled “Are you talking about the allegations, the donors or yourself?” She smirked

………………………………………………….......................

Since we’re so far from town I was informed that I would have to spend the night at the convent. They showed me my bedroom and it looked pretty fancy. King size bed, Egyptian sheets, expensive furniture. Everything was oddly normal, except for the weird dream I recalled having. I was at the convent, lost, calling for help because I somehow ended up locked in here. I was inside what looked like a large basement, the room was only lit by red lights, a faint smell of leather took over my nostrils as I heard someone moaning softly in my ear…a woman. And the weirdest thing was that I could’ve sworn I felt her breath against my ear. Needless to say I woke up with my dick as hard as a rock and had to spend a solid thirty minutes trying to get rid of a very painful boner, which did not leave me no matter how many times I came. Half hard and inside a convent...yeah, I’m definitely going to Hell!

“How did you sleep, Damian?” Was the first thing I was asked when I walked into the Mother Superior’s office in the morning. Something in her voice told me she knew exactly what I had done underneath the shower.

“Good”

“I bet you woke up feeling much better after a good night of rest, right?” She smiled devilishly and I just nodded

“Would you mind if we took a tour through the convent at some point?” I asked, quickly changing subjects

“Of course not! Let me know when you want one”

I nodded and began to ask my questions

“So, why do so many men keep coming and going from this convent? Seems like the place men shouldn’t be”

“The only men who come to the convent, Damian, are maintenance, the donors for the ‘thank you parties’ we host and now you” She smiled

“How do you get so many people to keep donating?”

“We don’t oblige anyone to do anything. People are still kind enough to see the work we do for those in need and they get touched by it. So God is the one who inspires them to donate, Damian. Not me”

“I’ve noticed a lot of fancy things here. Shouldn’t the money be going to something else?”

“The ‘fancy’ things you see are gifts from the donors. Things they felt in their hearts they should give us freely. We don’t buy things for the convent, apart from food. That’s one of the rules”

“Speaking of rules” I looked at her “Why are you smoking? Isn't that not allowed?”

“We don’t have rules against smoking here, Damian. The choice to do it or not is personal, but there are no rules for it. It’s not forbidden or a sin. Now, if you think nuns shouldn’t smoke, I suggest you pay a visit to the convents in Rome and give them a piece of your mind about their choices regarding health”

I chuckled at her comeback

“Why so cynical about our good intentions?” She licked her lips

“Because you don’t have any” I spat

“We live for helping those in need, Damian” She pointed towards my visible bulge

“Helping those in need, huh? And what do you get out of it?”

She walked towards me “Satisfaction in its purest form” She lifted one hand up and caressed my lower belly over my shirt “It’s incredible how much providing relief to others can trigger the biggest pleasure in our bodies...to see their eyes semi-closed in...relief is so rewarding to me”

I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably. “And just how needy do these people have to be?” I was speaking in financial terms of course

“Very needy” Her hand toyed with my jeans button “Some even have trouble sleeping due to their neediness, so you can see how a helping hand goes so well in this case...even the right mouth, you know to profess the Lord’s word”

“And just how many of these ‘charitable acts’ have you been involved with?” I felt my cock grow harder and harder

“Directly? Only when things get too hard, Damian” Her hand brushed against my hard bulge “That’s when I offer my help, so things can stop getting so hard and painful”

I gulped as I tried to shift away from her touch “So what, you just have all these other poor girls do your dirty work for you?” I try to keep my serious composure

“I’m not afraid of getting dirty, Damian. The girls do what they can, what they’re instructed to...but sometimes things get so hard that I have no other option but intervene” She pulled the fly of my jeans down “Then, once the seed of evil is finally spilled, things can go back to being soft again” She leaned in closer “Would you like a demonstration, Damian? I’m sure you have some kind of evil inside you that needs to be released” She asked with a sinister smile reaching her hand into the waistband of my boxer briefs

“I’m just here for work, Y/N, I have nothing to donate”

“Don’t worry about it. My girls will not be involved in this...it will be our little secret”

“I would like the tour now, please”

She smirked “Of course” and stepped away from me “This way” She went out the door as if nothing had happened

“Psycho bitch” I whispered to myself, as I pulled the fly of my jeans up and tied my hoodie around my waist to cover up the boner.

“This way we have the nuns bedrooms” She pointed towards a hallway “Kitchen, restrooms, archives, laundry room, storage for cleaning supplies, pantry” She explained each room, until we were outside “The patio, garden; where we cultivate flowers, fruits and vegetables, garage and the chapel is this way”

She walked towards a medium sized chapel in the middle of the garden, it looked like a regular chapel on the inside. It had an altar with a bible on it, a pulpit, a big cross, devotional statues of catholic saints, wooden benches and a confessional. Candles were lit up all over the place and everything looked normal. Scarily normal, until I noticed a few nuns who were sat on one of the benches staring at me with a weird look on their eyes

“Why are they looking at me like that?” I asked Y/N

“Like what?”

“Like, with...” I trailed off

“With desire?” She whispered in a mocking tone

I looked down at her speechless

“One could say that you’re a little too obsessed with the lust theme, Damian” She smiled “It’s all you can think about ever since you got here, dear. You should be careful” She licked her lips and pulled me by my hand towards her office again.

………………………........................................................

Later that night while I was trying to get some sleep, I began to hear some mumbling. Muffled voices kept saying something unintelligible and filling up the bedroom with mainly female voices. But one of the voices sounded too familiar to me...

I stood up from the bed and began to search in the room where those voices could be coming from, and as I almost gave up, I found it. A small hole of the size of a coin, in the concrete wall in front of my bed. Scooting closer to the wall, I knelt down and peeked through the hole, but weirdly enough, the room was pitch black. The mumbling started again and they soon became moans. Above all the moaning voices, one stood out to me. It was Y/N’s voice, she moaned softly while she said something I couldn’t quite understand. Her voice was filled with lust, her moans were pornographic and I could swear she was moaning my name. It both frightened and turned me on, so I did what any wise man would do. I returned to the bed, laid down and jerked off before falling into a deep slumber.

..................................................................................

“Wake up” Someone softly whispered in my ear

I quickly opened my eyes and my heart was beating at a frantic pace due to the fright.

A young girl was sitting down on my bed “Please, follow me” was all she said before standing up and leaving my room

I was so confused that I didn’t even bother to grab a t-shirt, so I just followed her down the hall barefoot and only with a pair of sweatpants on. Looking outside the hallway windows, I could see that the sky was still dark, which could only mean it was the late hours of morning.

She took me inside the laundry room and pressed a button underneath the folding clothes table. A door opened and a red light lit up the dark wooden stairs. I continued to follow her down the stairs, and we began to walk down a long hallway that looked more like a basement. The whole place had only red lights as the lighting source, so it took my eyes a while to get used to it.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, but only received silence as a response

We walked for what felt like ten minutes until we reached a black wooden door with an iron door knocker. She knocked on the door four times and left.

“Is this a prank?” I asked myself, after five minutes of standing there alone. Suddenly the door opened, but I couldn’t see anything other than darkness ahead

“Hello?” I called from the doorway, but no one answered back

The thing that made me such a great reporter was my utter curiosity, and even with all my senses screaming ‘don’t go in there!’ I decided to listen to my curious side instead, and went into the room. As soon as I stepped a foot inside, the door behind me closed shut.

The room was pitch black and I stumbled across a few items. I placed my hand on top of what felt like a table so I could try to guide myself through the room, at least back to the door again so I could leave. When suddenly I felt several pairs of soft hands on my torso pulling me back.

“What the fuck?” I gasped in shock

But before I could make a move, my wrists and ankles were tied to a wooden surface and a red light turned on in the room

Five nuns were in front of me, staring silently at my body

“Leave” Someone said from behind me, and the nuns obeyed and left

“I would be lying if I said you weren’t a beautiful sight” Y/N said, and and walked in front of me

“You psycho bitch” I growled and pulled at the restraints “Let me go!”

She smiled “Oh Damian...You don’t want that!” Her nails softly scratched my lower belly “And neither do I”

“You’re sick! Let me go, you fucking-“

“Na ah” She slapped me across the face “I’m done playing these pretending games” She lit up a cigarette “Pretend you didn’t jerk off to my moans, pretending you don’t want to fuck me...that gets tiring” She dipped her hand inside my sweatpants and found my semi hard bulge “You’ve wanted to fuck me ever since you laid eyes on me” She giggled and I licked my dry lips

“Those sinful, filthy, thoughts you’ve had, Damian” She closed her fist around my erection “You wanted to know what we do here, right? We purge that demon out of you” And scooted closer until her lips brushed against my own with every word she spoke

“We send him away, so he can’t bother you anymore” She freed my cock from my pants and began to pump her hand up and down “We release you from the seed of evil”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I panted

Y/N knelt down in front of me and darted her tongue out, licking my slit “Give me the seed of evil, Damian” and gave an open mouth kiss on my tip “Feed me with it” Licked the underside of my shaft “Release yourself from what’s been bothering you ever since you got here” Darting her tongue out “Use me to purify your soul” And opened her mouth wider.

At such a sight I had no other option but to buck my hips forward…

And chase for my cleansing

If you’re comfortable with it, please let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

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ghost-party · 3 years

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Hey! Congrats on your 200 followers, im so happy for you and cant wait to see your blog grow even more! I was wondering if I could please make a request for the 200 follower event? Id love to see something with Vampire Gojo. He kinda just has that ethereal delicate beauty of a thousand year old Vamp ya know? I dont have anything else specific, so let your imagination run wild. I love everything you write anyway! <3

Thank you! 😀💕 This was such a fun request to work on. I tried to make it a meet cute with flirty vampire Gojo — lots of banter and humor. I wouldn’t mind writing a follow-up at some point.

Warnings: references to blood and vampire erotica

• • •

Gojo + Vampire

“Have you heard about the new tenant in 2B?”

At the sound of your building manager’s voice, you hesitate, having just retrieved your mail. Glancing over your shoulder, you see her chatting with an older gentleman who’s shaking his head.

“I’ve lost track of everyone who comes and goes around here,” he says.

“But this one is different.” The woman’s eyes are wide, and more than anything, she looks excited. “He’s a vampire.”

You’re so startled by her words that you miss the rest of their conversation, standing there, staring down at the envelopes clutched in your hand. A vampire...? Sure, everyone knows they exist, and there are plenty who live among humans without incident.

But you’ve never met one yourself. You suspect that will change soon enough, though, seeing as one just moved into the apartment next door.

A few weeks pass before it happens. And when it does, it’s not exactly the dramatic meet cute you’ve been taught to expect by vampire-centric books and films.

You’re carrying groceries down the hall when one of the plastic bag handles snaps, sending produce and several cans rolling away from you. With a grumble, you bend down, struggling to balance the rest of your load, when an amused voice asks, “Need some help?”

You look up to find a tall, handsome man leaning in the doorway of 2B. He’s wearing an oversized sweater and jeans, a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses perched on his nose. His white hair falls across his forehead, and when he smiles, you notice two sharp fangs among his otherwise perfect teeth.

“Uh... I —” But before you can form any coherent words, he’s suddenly crouched in front of you, holding an armful of fruit and canned goods. You didn’t even see him move.

“Oh, the bag broke?” he asks, standing up. “I’ll just carry these. Where do you live?”

“2A.”

His smile widens. “So you’re my neighbor! I’ve been hoping to run into you.”

“It probably doesn’t help that we keep different hours,” you joke as he follows you to your door.

The man tsks at you as you turn the key in the lock. “Not as true as you might think.” He grins lasciviously. “Perhaps someone’s been reading too much vampire erotica...”

“W-what?!” you splutter, nearly dropping the rest of your groceries as you enter your apartment. “I don’t — You —” You huff indignantly, stomping off toward the small kitchenette. “Okay then. Enlighten me. What is true?”

“Needing to be invited in, for one thing.” You turn around and notice him standing just beyond the threshold, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

You smirk, taking a moment to place your bags on the counter before walking back and leaning against the doorframe. “Maybe I should just keep you out there...”

“Where’s the fun in that? Think of the bananas!” When you simply cross your arms, he sighs. “If you let me in, I’ll tell you. And also apologize for the erotica thing.”

You shrug. “I suppose that’s fair. You may now enter my humble abode, good sir.”

He laughs and steps inside, visibly relaxing. When you point, he places your dropped items on a nearby side table and then sidles into your living room. He talks as he looks around, examining your bookshelves and the photographs on your wall. Nosy, you think, but you’re amused by his open curiosity, looking like a child wandering through a museum.

“The older we are, the more resistance we have to daylight,” he explains. “We can see ourselves in mirrors and eat garlic, we can’t turn into bats — well, at least I can’t — and we don’t sparkle in the sun.”

“Are you sure?” you tease. “You look like the sparkling type. Very pretty.”

He smiles at you. “I’ll take that as a compliment, pumpkin.”

Already flustered by the pet name, you also find yourself transfixed by his eyes. They’re a bright, pure shade of blue, almost unnatural in their intensity.

“And what about enthralling people?” you ask, mentally shaking yourself and ducking into the kitchen to begin restocking your fridge. As you fill the shelves, you call out, “Do you make a habit of seducing people with your special powers?”

“I don’t need special powers to do that.” His voice is right beside you, and you jump, looking up to find him peering over your fridge door. “I always forget how much food humans eat.”

“You say that like you haven’t spent much time around them — us,” you correct yourself.

“Most of my friends are vampires. I’ve lived around humans for a long time, but it can be hard to connect.” He rests his chin on his hands. “Maybe it’s my ethereal beauty, or my charming demeanor. Or possibly my subscription to Red Apron.”

It doesn’t take long for your brain to connect the dots on that one. “What, do they send you different varieties? ‘A rare vintage from picturesque Lyon, France’? ‘Vegan Type O blend from Sydney, Australia’? All from willing donors, of course.”

“Of course. You could always come over and find out... I have wine, too. I’m not a heathen.” He grins at you, but when he sees the surprise on your face, he laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Whoops. Was that too forward? I just haven’t talked to anyone like this in a while...”

“To be honest, it wouldn’t be my weirdest date.” You close the fridge door and stand, looking up at him. “When I was in college, I went out with a guy who pretended to be a vampire. Plastic fangs and all.”

Your neighbor snickers. “Ah, one of those... He couldn’t even spring for those resin ones, or dental acrylic?” He shakes his head. “Let me guess. He slept like this.” He crosses his arms over his chest in a dramatic Dracula-esque pose.

You wrinkle your nose. “That implies I stuck around long enough to find out.”

His smile softens as he looks down at you, and he offers a large, pale hand. “Gojo Satoru.”

“Y/N.” His skin isn’t as cold as you thought it would be — surprisingly warm, actually. “I’m still waiting for that apology, you know.”

“See, I was thinking inviting you over for some wine and conversation would be a nice please-forgive-me gesture.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “And now that you know my name, you can’t even say we’re strangers!”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Slow your roll, pretty boy. I still have some questions.”

“Say no more.” Gojo eagerly sits in the nearest chair, crossing one long leg over the other. “I lived through the Spanish Inquisition. This can’t be any worse than that.”

You try (and fail) to do the necessary mental math. “How old are you?”

“Rough start, but I can appreciate directness. I’ve been a card-carrying vampire for a little over 900 years.”

“Wow. You don’t look a day over 400. Do you actually carry a card?”

“These days, yes. It’s like an even less attractive driver’s license.”

“Any history of illegal feeding?”

“None, officer.” He mock salutes. “Although I do appreciate a good chase, it’s always best when it’s consensual — at least for me.”

His words stir something inside you that you do your best to push away. “Seems pretty sudden to be asking me out, don’t you think?”

Gojo taps a finger against his perfect lips. “Your banter is exemplary. You haven’t run away screaming or begged me to ravish you. We seem to have compatible tastes in books and movies —” he gestures to your living room shelves “— if not food.” With another gleaming grin, he adds, “And you’re very, very cute.”

Much to your dismay, your cheeks warm, and you know that he knows, judging by the way his grin widens ever so slightly. “I suppose a glass of wine would be nice,” you say. “But I’m not interested in seeing your coffin on the first date.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Completely understandable. That’s third date territory, at least.”

You can’t help but laugh. “In that case... Are you free tomorrow?”

#200 followers event #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader

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