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#my partner lost his job
littlecutiexox · 9 months
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Been a little stressy but hopefully things start looking up
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bisonaari · 3 months
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I can't be trusted with money I just booked more plane tickets to go back to finland lol
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cringefaildiaz · 1 year
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3x01 is crazy. Hen talking about Buck not having anything outside the 118 cutting to Eddie's scheming face. Maddie and Chim talking about maybe having kids and being the only ones without children except Buck, cutting directly to Eddie giving Christopher to Buck. Very subtle.
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renn-the-rascal · 2 years
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Oh I am screaming into the void begging for a fucking break for us on this fine saturday
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so much of what my ex did and continues to do is just so psychologically fucked up it sounds fake
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ketchuppee · 7 months
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During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.
It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.
That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.
I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.
One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.
My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.
I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.
I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.
All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.
None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.
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addelaidesupreme · 3 months
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I'm watching a video essay about a game ive been interested in playing. The creator of the video, who has crossdressed multiple times, makes a "women arent funny" joke, and i suddenly realize ive never witnessed him acknowledge a woman in an uplifting way before.
I'm on a dating app for lgbt+ people. I've stated multiple times on my profile that i would rather lose an arm than recieve nudes without consent. I will be sent five dick pics for every 2 people i talk to that night.
I'm talking with my dad, who informs me he's been trying his best to learn about trans issues. He says the same things steven crowder brings up when trying to ridicule trans people. I gently but firmly correct my father and get told that ive been fed propaganda.
I'm on instagram, under the comments of a post ridiculing someone for being a misogynyst. Someone's left a comment saying "it must be hard being a woman on the internet" and i respond "it is." I will have every aspect of my appearance scrutinized as a reminder that no matter how well i pass, it will never be enough for someone with bad intentions.
I'm back on that dating app for lgbt+ people. I'm messaged by an attractive looking person, but i can see their partner prominently displayed in all but their main photo, oftentimes striking what im sure they thought was a very intimidating pose. Their bio says "looking for a third for our anniversary." I know that even if I did feel up to it, the gruff partner wouldnt approve of me because i don't pass.
I'm at a job interview for a clothing store. I tell the gracefully-dressed woman interviewing me that ever since i began my transition, i've discovered an interest in fashion, and that this job would allow me to dip my toes into the industry in a safe way. I'm told that i've reduced womanhood to a stereotype, and i can tell by her tone that i lost any chance at the job the minute she realized i was trans.
I'm at the same hospital i got facial feminization surgery in, trying to figure out what's wrong with my bowels. When the person behind the desk gives me a wristband with my patient info on it, i notice a single, lonely, letter M. I ask a nurse in private why it would say that despite me having changed it nearly a year prior. They say they have no clue, and bring in paperwork for me to fill out and have it re-changed again.
I'm living with my mom at the time. I'm new to transitioning, and decide to try my hand at voice training. It feels a bit off, but otherwise im feeling neutral toward the whole thing. I try speaking in this new voice to my mom and she laughs. Now, when people ask if i intend to voice train, i find speaking at all difficult for minutes after.
I didnt have some sort of grand message to convey by this. I just had a thought and then that thought spiralled into whatever the hell this became. Some, okay most, might call it complaining; they are right to do so.
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neineyes · 5 months
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moonchild1 · 7 months
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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅸ)
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hi everyone wow it's really been a while and i'm on list 9 already damnnn that's alot and list 10 is like half way complete already... soooo you might notice a change in the set up this time around i liked how it looked on my ao3 list so i added it here as well, i absolutely love this list like i've gone over this list a million times it's filled with alot of fics i was absolutely obsessed with, you know how attached i get to the characters and this list holds quite a few of them too so i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did and you fall for them too... remember to give lots of love to the authors of these fics they are absolute geniuses and deserve all the respect and love in this world for creating these beautiful fics and sharing it with us so be sure to give them a follow, like and reblog or even leave a little comment i'm 100% percent sure it would mean alot to them 🥺🖤 also as these fics contain smut no under minors allowed/interact... if you would like to share some of your favourites or just wanna ramble about fics you love send me an ask i love hearing from you guys and happy reading everyone till next time ✨🖤
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a- angst s- smut f-fluff
series
dreamcatchers by @ggukcangetit f a
↬  DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.  
block party by @minlucent f s a
↬ moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake. neighbours au e2l
a little bit of your heart by @yoongiofmine f s a ft. myg
↬ you had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with min yoongi. you knew you and yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything yoongi couldn’t. Will jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten yoongi enough to do something about it? 
lost stars by @/yoongiofmine f s a
↬ Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. idol au s2l
secrets we keep by @/yoongiofmine f s a
↬ Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and  you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows you’re his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? idol au
i hate you, i love you by @jungblue s a
↬ You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you. 
fatal attraction by @jungcock s a ft. kth
↬ your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one. exes au serial killer thriller
pub golf by @taleasnewastime f s
↬ One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. s2l
animal by @cutaepatootie f s a
↬ boxer jungkook au ANGST
things you don't know by @btsgotjams27 a
↬ It’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.
entangled by @caelesjjk f s a ft. kth
↬ Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man. He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well? Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.
when the end comes by @oddinary4bts f s a
↬ Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?
new girl by @jjkeverlast f s a
↬ after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong?
horizon by @/sokooks f s a
↬ The way you approached life had started to break down Jungkook's emotional barriers. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was drawn to you in a way that was entirely new and unfamiliar. You had become more than just an assignment; you had become someone he genuinely cared about. It was the way you made him feel. With you, he felt more human than he had in a long time. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, his heart had other plans. angel au
searching for nirvana by @/sokooks f s a
↬ he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't be touching you the way he was- but he was here before him. he was your friend, not him. he knew your body, not him. he wanted to be the only one to touch you the way you liked. he he wanted you to remember that. despite the fact that he already had someone waiting for him. best friends au cheating au.
twelve hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a
↬ you have twelve hours to make jeon jungkook fall in love with you. he's about to get married. you're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.
when it all... by @7deadlysinsfics f a
↬ what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on
better than me ? by @/7deadlysinsfics f s a
↬ jungkook is clear on what you both are to each other. still, he doesn’t want you to think anyone else is better than him
our first and our last by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft ot7
↬ The first time you met Jeon Jungkook was on your tenth birthday. On that day, he was nothing more than the strange man who jumped into a dark portal that suddenly opened in the middle of the park. The ten year old you just stood in the grass, strands of hair ruffling from the calm breeze that swooped by; head slightly tilted, bright, innocent eyes wide open and staring at him with wonder and disbelief. There was a certain amount of confusion, but your young mind was too naïve to question his actions or what they entailed. soulmate au
dancer in the dark by @gwoongi f s a
↬ Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him. rockstar au
together by @httpjeon f s a ft.pjm
↬domestic!au, couple!au, stoner!au, gamer!au
hot bot by @/httpjeon f s
↬ purchasing a Hot Bot wasn’t exactly something you ever really planned on. when you do, however, it sends your life down a path of convoluted government schemes and dark secrets.
stardust by @iamtaekooked f
↬ You didn’t believe in soulmates until you lay your eyes on Jeon Jeongguk, the younger brother of your best friend’s husband. That is when you see the red string beginning encircled around your pinky and ending in his
serendipity by @rohobi f s a
↬ After you reveal your inexperienced sexual status to your best friend, Jungkook grapples with the news, startled by the idea that the girl he always thought could get anyone, is a virgin. After finding his porn at 3AM, you decide that maybe it’s about time to stain the white sheets of your world with the colors of a forbidden fruit Jungkook seems to have in the palm of his hands.
chasing shadows by @colormepurplex2 s a
↬ Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PI’s around.
I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in by @inkofyoonkoo f s a
↬ In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past. s2l fwb au
sweet nothing by @adonis-koo f s a
↬ Being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
three's a crowd by @/adonis-koo s a ft. jimin
↬ When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation… ceo au
sleepwalking by @taexual f s a
↬ due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
empty space by @ahundredtimesover f s a
↬ It started as friendship, turned to a casual fuck, then ended in heartbreak. Turns out, he wasn’t who he said he was, and years later he enters your life again, forcing you to face all the emotions you’d been trying to bury. 
OR Officer Jeon looks really hot in his uniform and you wish you didn’t hate him as much as you do.
as the world burns around us by @today-we-will-survive a
↬ You haven’t seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the world’s population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. You’re still surprised Seoul survived – if you can call what it has become “surviving”
hotter than hell by @chateautae f s a
↬ jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
to turn a bad thing good by @/chateautae f s a
↬ jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.
J’aime by @baepop f s a
↬ You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.
Written in the Stars by @/baepop f s a ft. kth
↬ You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend
make me forget by @roseannekook f s a
↬ You are the lead vocalist and main dancer of your company’s first girl group, but on the fourth promotion of your debut song things don’t go as planned. At the brink of an uprising scandal, you seek refuge in the bathroom stalls…and find it in the arms of no one else but BTS’ golden maknae Jeon Jungkook.
one of your girls by @ggukiepie s a ft. pjm
↬ fwb au college au fuck boy au inspired by the song
boy in luv by @/ggukiepie f s a
↬ just two idiot best friends in l*ve college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc
the boy who left by @/gujoonim a
↬ As your eyes staring deeply into your possible client-to-be’s eyes, something crossed your mind, it was that pair of eyes that you were looking for when you being abandoned at the aisle on your wedding day. ceo au
love sewn by @jvnghxope s a
↬ You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.
not yet by f s @bratkook f s a
↬ jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship.
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blazes of deceit by @periminkle f a
↬ when the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls you’ve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lights—even if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide. tangled au disney au
southpaw by @starshapedkookie f s a
↬ Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.
house of cards by @jeonggukingdom s a
↬ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.
enouement by @littlemisskookie s a
↬ War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook. mulan au disney au
miss taken by @junghelioseok f s
↬you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience. single parent dilfjk jk e2l
the ex text by @shadowkoo f s a
↬ The 2 AM texts have started again. It’s a bittersweet familiarity that you can’t run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and you’ll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkook’s presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.
the proposal by @hansolmates f s a
↬Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. based on the movie the proposal e2l
red and gold by @/thedefinitionofbts f s
↬It’s no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. There’s nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money. 
burning bright by @snackhobi s
↬there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you. based on the movie pacific rim
but we loved young by @jl-micasea-fics s a
↬Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.
the shoulder on which you cry by @lemonjoonah f s a ft. knj
↬ after moving away from your hometown five years ago, you’ve struggled on every return. each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. but when he can’t be there to support you during your current trip home, jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need. 
illusion of choice by @hobibliophile f s a
↬ You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.
the blue princess and her red rose by @/cutaepatootie f s a
↬ After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. princess au
rigor mortis by @readyplayerhobi f s a
↬ A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.
lowkey by @joonbird s
↬ Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.
part-time lover by @sketchguk f s a
↬there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time. 
sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae a
↬ a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. inspired by the anime 'orange'
i'll be home by @wwilloww f s a ft.knj
↬ When your first love, Jungkook, disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man. 
white lies by @noteguk f s a
↬ in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you. 
yes coach by @/taleanewastime s
↬ You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point.
spf 50 by @gimmeyoon f s
 ↬ If you have to spend your summer home from college working a job you hate, it might as well include sitting by the pool with Jungkook. Now if only kids could stop vomiting in it.
fifth wish by @jiminrings f a
↬ jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.
blacklisted by @/httpjeon s a ft. kth
↬after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.
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↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library
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peachesofteal · 2 months
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ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes
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It’s the sundress. 
The way it flows off your hips, your body moving beneath it, skin glowing just under the hem. You're lucent in it, radiant in a way he's never seen, brilliance so stunning it catches his breath. You’re a perfect peach, juicy and ripe, plump and sumptuous, skin so soft he’d only need a nip to tear into it, the barest bruise of pressure allowing him to drink his fill of precious honeyed nectar. 
There are dozens of people in the café, but he only sees you, can’t tear his gaze away, sick with the heavy tug in his heart, drawing him closer and closer, fingers tense around the flimsy paper cup. He stares, openly, even after Simon clears his throat, scuffs his foot against the sidewalk, says his name. 
Johnny has no patience for a kill, or a meal. He likes to rip into fresh things, soak his maw and stretch his jaw around them, swallow them whole if he can.
Swallow you whole, if he can.
A bead of sweat collects at the back of your neck, and he traces its path between your shoulder blades and below, mouth watering at the singular thought of a taste. 
His tongue licking down your spine to the cleft of your arse, soft, sweet skin parted for him, face crammed between your legs, panting, pushing, desperate for more, and more, and- 
“Johnny.”  
“Pretty thing.” He barely looks at his partner, the heat simmering in his stomach curling into a snare. “Little pocket a’ sunshine.” 
“Johnny.” 
“Ye see ‘er?” Simon’s eyes dig into him, and then you, following the seam of your dress from thigh to shoulder. There’s insatiable insanity in his face, and Johnny knows- 
He sees it too. 
“I do.” 
“Ye dinnae want a taste?” 
“Not enough time.” He nods next door, where the darkness looms, waits for them expectantly. A meeting, a negotiation, a riotous push and pull. The things he’s good at, the part of his job that doesn’t include intimidating or killing or orchestrating a disturbance. 
His hands sow choreographed chaos, but in this moment, he’d rather they do something else instead. 
Pin you down. Pry your thighs wide. Bury his face in your cunt. Would you struggle? Would you cry? Would you take it like a good girl, breathy and sweet, lips shocked into a perfect O for his thumb, pad of it pressed down on your tongue, taste- 
“Better think fast.” Simon warns, jolting him from the fantasy that has his cock swelling, and when he sees you heading for the door, dreamy smile on your face, iced latte precarious in your grip, a plan roars to life. 
It’s easy, to pretend it’s an accident. Easy to act shocked and embarrassed. Easy, to feel terrible about ruining your dress. 
Your gasp is music to his ears. 
“Oh my god-“ it’s almost too much, watching the crushing realization sink in across your features, the dismay at the sight of your newly acquired caffeine fix rushing down the front of your sunflower dotted dress. 
They’ll buy you a new one. They’ll buy you hundreds. 
“’m so sorry.” He croons, reaching to steady you, carefully gripping your elbow under the guise of balance. “Ah, bonnie. ‘m so sorry, I didnae see ye and I was rushin’.” 
“It’s… it’s okay.” You’re blinking too fast, trying to hold back tears, trying to keep yourself together. The patchwork, the glue and tape, parts and pieces easily crumble, even as you try to take a deep breath. “I’m… it’s fine.” 
“Yer dress is ruined.” Obviously. “Let me pay to get it cleaned, at least.” 
“No, no… that’s… it’s okay. I’ll… I’ll just run home, no big deal.” He beats back the burn, the wildfire scorching away the last of his sanity. 
“Please.” Simon chimes in over his shoulder. “It’s the least we can do.” You look between them, confused, eyes wide like a little doe, lost all alone in the deep, dark forest.
Flanked by wolves.
“Or let us give ye a ride to yer place, so ye can change.” He jerks his head to the sleek black sedan, idling at the corner, driver still behind the wheel. The meeting can wait, they've got more pressing issues to attend, now. 
“Oh… uh-“ He can smell the rot of your hesitance. That’s the thing about a doe, they’re naturally skittish, trembling legs uneasy from the day they were born, nervous about their own shadow. “It’s fine, I can walk. It’s not far.” 
“I feel terrible, let me pay for it.” He pours it thick, and as expected, the guilt about making him feel worse locks into place. “I dinnae what I’ll do if we cannae help. If ye give me yer number, we can arrange to cover the cleaners?” Simon looms closer, fingers folding over Johnny's shoulder in an affectionate gesture.
You almost look relieved at the sight.
Poor little doe. 
In the end, you agree. When you give them your name, he traces over each syllable tenderly, memorizing the way it sounds on your lips, as Simon taps a phone number into your contacts.
"Ye go straight home an' change." Johnny murmurs, holding onto your hand a shade too long after you pass him back his phone. "Dinnae want ye walkin' around in a dirty dress all afternoon." You fidget, waxing crescent on your lips, and nod.
"I'll uh... I'll let you know how much it is." There's a hint of a tremble in the back of your throat, off key and off kilter, and he smiles to reassure you, before the two of them turn to take their leave.
"We'll talk to ye soon."
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scoreplings · 1 year
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it sucks worse because i doubt that he even thinks about me once a month but it’s been a year and he crosses my mind almost daily
#i just know SO MUCH about him and so many things remind me of him#i lost two of my best friends because of him. and i cant do anything about that#i tried so hard for so long to make it work#to listen to what he had to say and to make myself good enough for him.#to be a good friend and a good partner no matter how he treated me or what i was going through#and i fucking was!! i was incredible and he was lucky to have me!!#i walked forty minutes each way in the middle of the night wether i had school or work or anything in the morning#no matter what just to make him feel safe#i drove him everywhere he needed to go whenever he asked for it#i bought him food when his parents wouldn’t and i would do whatever he said when i was around him#and if i ever showed a sign of being upset or scared or hurt id just get ‘:/‘ in response and he’d ask me to leave lmfao#hell i got him his fucking job. and helped him keep it and covered for him when he sucked at it.#even AFTER he told me he was dating our mutual friend and refused to talk to me when i tried to address it (because. hello. u already have#a partner we are dating wtf are you doing?? at least break up with me first??)#he ignored me for days but the Second he told me he was having headaches i drove twenty minutes to meet him at school and give him my#migraine meds#i was so pathetic for him eugh.#there is a mean part of me that hopes sincerely he’s struggling without my support. because i did everything i possibly could for him#and it still wasn’t enough for him to be decent to me.
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harrysfolklore · 20 days
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of the jealous kind - charles leclerc blurb
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inspired by this request ! i hope you like it
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
The Miami heat embraced your skin as you walked holding Charles' hand through the Ferrari garage. It was race day and you were beyond excited to be joining him.
The Miami Grand Prix was known to be a place where all kinds of celebrities wanted to be, from actors to influencers, the paddock and the garages were filled with starlets who wanted to meet the drivers. So you wondered who would you be seeing around the area and possibly fangirling if any of your favorite celebrities happened to attend
"They told me Ed Sheeran is coming," Charles said, as if he read your mind, "I really want to meet him, he's a legend."
"Look at you, fan boy," you teased, pinching his side and letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders, "Are you going to tell him how many times you play his songs around the house?"
"Definetely, I'm also going to ask him to sign my forehead," he said and you threw your head back in laughter, "Are you good? Do you want anything to drink? Or anything I can get you."
You smiled tenderly at him, one of Charles' many love languages was always making sure you felt comfortable and happy, no matter the place or setting.
"I'm all good, baby," you pecked his cheek affectionately, "I can't wait for the race to start, honestly."
"Me too, I have a great feeling about this one," he moved his arm to placed around your waist, squeezing your hip, "I feel like it's going to be special."
Before you could reply, someone from his team called for him.
"I'll be back in a minute, mon coeur," he kissed your lips quickly, "Don't go too far, okay?"
"Don't miss me too much." You winked at him and sent him his way, watching as he walked off with a confident stride.
As you waited for Charles to return, you took in the atmosphere of the garage. Mechanics rushed around, making last-minute adjustments to the cars, while team members and guests mingled, discussing the upcoming race. You spotted a few familiar faces among the crowd, fellow drivers and their partners, all sharing in the pre-race anticipation.
Lost in thought, you almost didn't notice when a voice called out your name. Turning, you could swear your jaw fell to the floor as you realized that it was Zayn, your ex-boyfriend.
You and Zayn dated for almost two years and broke up nearly six years ago, the breakup was healthy and you were in good terms with him after it, but it had been years since you had seen each other, and you had never expected to run into him here, of all places.
"YN, hey," Zayn said, a warm smile on his face as he reached you, "Wow, it's been a while,"
"Yeah, it has," you replied, returning his smile. "What are you doing here? Are you a fan of Formula 1 now?"
"Yeah, I'm really into it," he said, "I was dying to meet the drivers and hang around here, I'm glad I could finally do it."
"That's amazing," you said, genuinely surprised. "I had no idea you were into that kind of stuff."
"Yeah, it's been a huge hobby of mine for a while now," Zayn explained. "But enough about me, how have you been? What have you been up to?"
You filled Zayn in on your life since you last saw each other, telling him about your job, your hobbies, and of course, your relationship with Charles. Zayn listened intently, nodding along and asking questions, clearly interested in hearing about your life.
"I'm really happy for you, YN," Zayn said sincerely. "It sounds like you're in a really good place right now."
"Thank you, Zayn," you replied, smiling sincerely at him, "I'm glad we ran into each other. It's nice to catch up."
Before any of you could say anything else, you felt a presence behind you and a strong arm wrapping protectively around your waist.
You didn't have to turn around and look at his face to know that Charles was jealous.
"Hey, love," he said, his gaze fixed on your face, "All good?"
"Yeah, I was just catching up with Zayn. Zayn, this is Charles,"
"Her boyfriend," he said before you could even speak, and you almost rolled your eyes comically, "It's nice to meet you, mate."
"Nice to meet you too," Zayn said as you shook hands, "YN was just telling me about you, I'm a big fan."
"Likewise," Charles replied, his tone polite and kind but and with a hint of possessiveness "Are you visiting all the Garages?"
"Yeah, that's my goal for the day," Zayn said, "Actually, I should probably get going, It was really nice seeing you, YN. And it was great meeting you, Charles."
"Yeah, it was nice catching up," you replied, offering him a smile.
"Take care, both of you, and goof luck on the race." Zayn said, returning your smile.
As Zayn walked away, you could feel Charles relaxing beside you. He turned to you, his expression softening, and you looked at him with accusing eyes.
"So, care to explain what was that?" you said, raising your eyebrows at him.
"What was what?" Charles looked at you innocently, but you could see his jaw was still tensed
"Don't play dumb, Charles," you chuckled, nudging him with your elbow. "You were totally jealous back there, acting all petty and protective."
"I wasn't jealous," he protested, but his eyes betrayed him, glancing away for a split second before meeting yours again, "I wasn't!"
"Sure, sure," you teased, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning into him. "It's cute, you know. Seeing you get all protective."
"Okay, you win," he rested his arm on your back, "I just wanted him to know you're with me now."
"Don't worry, I think he got the message," you teased, leaning into his side.
"Good," Charles chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple "Because I don't like sharing."
"Don't be ridiculous now," you rolled your eyes playfully, "You're like a big, jealous puppy."
"Hey, I can't help it," Charles protested, a grin on his face, "You're stunning and such a catch, anyone would die to be with you," he said, instantly making you blush, "I just love you so much."
"I love you too," you replied, leaning up to kiss him softly, "Now, come on, let's go watch you win this race."
"Sounds like a plan," Charles said, squeezing your waist, "I hope Verstappen doesn't ruin that plan though."
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jesuistrestriste · 4 months
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♡ Cooking & Cleaning; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡
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nsfw! (18+) cw: service sub!art donaldson, dom!reader, afab/fem reader, use of ma'am as an honorific, brief food play, oral sex (reader receiving), begging, handjob, brief edging, praise, degradation, multiple orgasms (character receiving), dry orgasm
wc: 6.3 k (whoops)
note: this was pulled from the most depraved parts of my brain. i refuse to be held accountable for the absolute filth this contains ! :)
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆.
The very second that your key is in the apartment door and you're finally home, you find your legs nearly collapsing underneath you as you step inside and kick off your black kitten heels.
"God," you groan, shutting the door behind you before you move to peel your chic new blazer off of your shoulders. You toss it onto the coatrack nearby and bring a handful of your fingers up to your forehead to rub at it tensely, sighing deeply.
It had been a long day at the USTA (United States Tennis Association) office, and all you wanted to do was come home and see your husband.
-
After Art had lost several important and consecutive tennis matches, as well as his confidence on the court (despite his actual tennis skills still being phenomenal -- he just psyched himself out too much), he had decided to give up his life as a professional athlete.
At first, this devastated you. Not only did you love your partner and believe in him throughout his career, as well as believing in his very real ability to eventually win the US Open, but this decision of his also meant that your position as his coach would become obsolete..
You actually became quite anxious about you and Art's future at the time.. you had needed a purpose, and so did he. You both were just those kinds of people; you and him both wanted to feel that you were contributing to something bigger than just yourselves, and that you were being useful to someone or something.
Luckily, his many previous years of successful tennis playing had scored you and him a shit ton of wealth. Like, genuinely a lot. You were beyond grateful, but you still wanted a life of your own. You didn't dare to think about the idea of becoming a stay-at-home wife while he went out and did whatever he wanted. Yuck. It just wasn't for you.
Your fears and inner turmoil about this change in your lives were quickly eased once Art had sat you down about two weeks after he had left his tennis career behind. He had taken your hands in his, smiled softly like he always did, and told you that he wanted to stay at home and take care of everything in it while you went out and continued your career in the field of professional athletics.
Of course, you immediately and excitedly agreed with the idea of this new plan, and then that was that!
You two developed new lives and new roles as people over a short period of time, but it didn't take away from the love you two shared. That always stayed consistent and at the center of everything.
Eventually, after a month or so of coming home from your new job to Art doing things like vacuuming the wooden floors of your guys' expensive New York apartment, or making elaborate protein-packed smoothies for the gym sessions that you two still did together, you came to realize that the whole "house husband" persona was actually kinda hot.
He had realized it too. Quicker than you had, actually. In fact, he can distinctly remember the overwhelming feeling of heat that had pooled deep in his gut the first time he had ever served you a home-cooked meal after you came home from a long day at your new job. He had gently rubbed your sore feet that night while you ate, and then suddenly couldn't find a way to deny how this new practice of.. servicing you.. made him feel.
I mean, God, he loved doing that stuff for you.. cooking.. tidying.. pampering.. washing.. he would do it all. You knew that he worshipped the ground that you walked on—reminding yourself constantly of the time he had admitted to you during sex that he believed he would be "nowhere without you"—and you devoured the increased sense of power that came with it every. single. time. It eventually became very easy and comfortable for you to let him take care of you. You grew hungry for it.
And then this persona of his, over time, dissolved into something much more intimate..
-
After tossing your blazer on the rack and rubbing at your temples, you drag your pantyhose-covered feet across the floor and into the kitchen.
Your nose is instantly filled with the aroma of fluffy, vanilla sweetness and a bit of nutmeg. you sigh happily as you turn the corner and see Art standing over a mess of what appears to be flour and sugar in a large bowl on the kitchen counter. He looks over his shoulder briefly with a smile as he mixes the dry ingredients together with a whisk.
“Hey, hon,” he grins, before turning back to look down at his current baking project.
you shuffle up behind him and hug him, your cheek pressing against his warm upper back as your arms reach to wrap gently around his abdomen. You sigh deeply.
“Hey, babe.. ‘m so tired. It was such a long day.”
He laughs softly, which shakes you a bit as you hold him.
“What’d your colleagues do now?”
You shake your head against him, groaning dramatically.
“I don’t want to talk about it.. what are you baking? It smells good in here.”
“Nothing crazy, it’s just some holiday cookies. I found the recipe online this morning after you left.”
“How many are you planning to make? There’s already some in the oven.” you ask, peeking around his frame from behind to see him set the bowl aside and wipe his hands on the apron he’s wearing. (It was white with small pink hearts by the pockets. You got it for him when he started cooking for you everyday, and he used to feel weird about it. He said it made him feel “slightly emasculated”, but he quickly grew to absolutely adore it. It was just another way for you to claim him as your personal chef. One night before you got home, he jerked off while wearing it, but he would never tell you that.)
“I don’t really know,” he shrugs and chuckles sheepishly, “there are twelve baking right now, but I thought that maybe I could make some for our neighbors.”
You chuckle softly, your hands disconnecting from their place on his stomach to reach down and give his ass a small squeeze. He jumps a little at the feeling, embarrassed laughter bubbling up in his chest.
“Where’d all this holiday cheer come from?” you smirk, pulling back from your position against his back to lean your hip against the counter. You just wanted to look at his pretty face. Your eyes quickly fixate on the fact that he’s got a bit of flour on his flushed cheek.. It’s only a small puff and smear of the white substance near his jaw, but for some reason it starts a flame in your lower stomach. There was just something about the way he got a little messy when he cooked or baked for you.
His cheeks plump up in shape ever-so-slightly as he grins at you.
“I don’t know.. I had time before you got home- I mean, well, before i thought you’d get home, and so i thought I’d just-”
You take a step forward, nodding at his words while your body is now only inches from his. You look up into his glassy blue eyes.
“You thought you’d just.. what?” you purr, your hand coming up to caress his lower back.
He swallows thickly, briefly looking down at the mess on the counter before he looks back to you. His body temperature is steadily rising as he feels your fingertips caress him over his loose t-shirt.
“I just thought I’d make some more,” he whispers.
You lean in, reaching your other hand up to gingerly hold the side of his neck while you press a kiss to it.
“You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?”
He nods, slowly, his eyelids fluttering slightly at the feeling of your mouth on him.
“I..I mean, yeah, I guess.”
You lean in a bit more, sucking softly at his neck. His head lolls a bit forward, and you nip at him when the sound of his shaky breathing reaches your ears.
You pull back, a small smirk covering your face as you look up at him.
His focus darts from your eyes to your lips as he reaches both of his hands out for your waist, but he’s rudely interrupted when the timer for the oven goes off— cookies are done.
You both nearly jump out of your skin at the sound; the incessant beeping pulling you both out of the thick fog of tension between your bodies and minds.
“Shit,” he mumbles, flushing pink from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as he turns off the timer at the top of the oven and moves to hastily grab an oven mitt from the lower drawer.
He pulls open the oven door, and you step back to watch him pull the tray out and set it on top of the stove area.
He sighs, pulling off the mitt and setting it aside as he leans over the cookies. His eyes are inspecting each one, and he has a very focused expression plastered on his face. He was as much of a perfectionist in the kitchen as he used to be on the court, that was for sure.
Your body moves in to stand beside him, also peering down at the tray of gorgeous golden-brown cookies. You place a hand on his upper back, rubbing it encouragingly.
“These look incredible,” you say, smiling at him.
He nods, still inspecting them, “They look better than I thought they would.. I actually messed up earlier and accidentally added three-fourths of a cup of sugar instead of two-thirds..”
“They look perfect, don’t stress.”
He looks to you, his gaze meeting yours and then suddenly everything was back to how it was before the timer went off. His hands reach for your waist, squeezing at your hips as he looks lovingly down at you.
“Be proud of yourself, Art.. you did a good job,” you laugh softly, your hands reaching up to cup his face. He pulls you closer.
“I am.”
“Are you?”
“Mhm.”
“Good.”
You suddenly get a very filthy idea.
“Can.. can you tell me what the recipe called for?”
His brows furrow slightly as he seems taken aback by your request, his cock already starting to stir to life in his sweatpants just from holding your body. He didn’t want to talk about the damn cookies anymore.
“What?”
You roll your eyes, one of your hands dropping from his face to reach around the fabric of the front of his apron and grope him over his sweats. Your other hand moves down too, but just to gently hold the side of his torso. His whole body jolts forward and his lips part instantly.
“You’ll like where this is headed, trust me. Just talk to me.. tell me what you did to make the cookies look so perfect..”
He breathes unsteadily, his fingers digging into your waist as he feels your hand start to work his cock up to a full-blown, hot, twitchy erection.
“I.. uhm.. I just..” he breathes out, his eyes growing lidded as he absentmindedly bucks up against your touch, still trying to maintain eye contact as pleasure starts to flood his senses, “one cup of b-butter.. ngh-!.. two cups.. two cups of flour… and then- ugh!- two.. two-thir-r-ds.. of..”
His voice trails off, shaky and low and broken as he hangs his head a bit, leaking incessantly into his boxers. It was that easy for you to work him up.
You frown, “Uh oh.. come on, baby, don’t go nonverbal on me that quick.. we’ve just barely gotten started…”
A small whimper leaves his chest as he tries to finish his words, “Two-thirds, I m-mean- three-f-fourths of a c-cup of.. s-su.. sugar… one teasp’of vanilla.. and.. o-one.. teaspoon of nutm-eg.”
You smile, stroking his cock over the fabric of his pants, “Good boy.. God, you’re so pretty when you’re slurring for me..”
He moans obscenely, melting at the praise while he feels his length grow suddenly intensely hot. A certain kind of numbness starts to creep over his crotch before his hands are flying from your hips to your wrist.
“Wait! W-Wait!” he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as he blows a concentrated shaky breath from his lips, his fingertips digging into your arm.
Your eyebrow lifts and you smile as you take in the way his body shakes and shudders as he holds it in for you. He knows how to behave.. what would make you happy.. what would make you disappointed.. After all, he’s been trained by you in more than just tennis.
“Close?” you whisper.
His body starts to slowly relax again as he regains some of his composure. He blinks his eyes back open slowly, looking into yours.
“Very,” he groans.
You pull your hands from his body, and he whines softly.
“Take off the apron. Put it on the floor.”
You’re sure you’ve never seen him move so fast— his hands reaching behind his back and undoing the tied string. Then, he pulls the apron off over his head, tossing it off to the side. He watches you study him with parted lips, and he bites onto his own.
“Now take your sweats off for me.”
He does as he’s told; his shaky fingers reaching down to slip his pants down to his lower thighs, and then down to his knees and ankles, and then he steps out of them. He kicks them gently next to where the apron was thrown, now making a mess of grey and white fabric where both items pooled on the kitchen floor.
You step close to his body, cupping his face before running a hand through his messy strawberry-blonde locks. But it doesn’t take long for your eyes to travel solely down to the bulge prominently pressing against the inside of his navy boxer briefs. You run a fingertip up and over the outline of his dick, relishing in the way it makes him shake. He was now just in his tee shirt, boxers, and white socks, while you stayed fully clothed. But not for too much longer.
"My pretty husband.." you coo to him, making his lips part to let out a few uneven breaths. You glance around his frame and notice a bowl off to the side that had remnants of the soft cookie dough from the first batch of the cookies. You smirk.
You lean forward and swipe your thumb along the inside of the bowl, gathering some of the sugary, buttery mixture on your digit. His gaze remains lidded and locked onto your face, not finding any importance in your hand's movements at the kitchen counter. You bring your thumb back in, showing him what you did.
He spares your thumb a quick glance, but then his eyes are back on yours, and then your lips, and then the way that your breasts are peeking out from the low-cut collar of your work top. You bring your thumb up to his mouth.
"Open," you whisper.
He does as he's told, parting his lips further and leaning in to encourage your finger to slip past them.
You push your cookie dough-covered thumb into his mouth, feeling him immediately begin to suckle on it; his tongue swirled over it, and his eyes fluttered shut right after they began to roll back. His brows furrow, and a couple of faint whines bubble up out of him as the taste of his homemade sweetness melts seamlessly on his palate.
While your thumb is in his mouth, you push it down softly on his tongue.
"Knees, baby," you say breathlessly.
Art knew this command like the back of his hand.
Effortlessly and steadily, he dropped down to his knees one after the other, keeping your digit in his mouth the entire time. He didn't dare let it go. He moved to sit on his calves.
"Good job.. good boy..."
He whimpered, the vibrations of his pathetic sounds causing your hand to buzz slightly.
"I want your mouth on my cunt.. can you do that for me, darling?" you purr, running your hand through his hair for a moment. He nods around you.
"Y'sh, m'm.." he mumbled, trying his best to speak while still relishing your touch with enough attention.
You pull your thumb from the heat of his wet mouth, and smirk as you watch his lips chase after it.
"What was that?"
You already had a good idea about what he had murmured, but it was just.. best to be sure.
"Yes, ma'am," he gasps out softly, his eyes glazed over.
He reaches up and pulls at your skirt, shimmying it down and over your ass and thighs, letting it fall to your ankles. You kick it aside, and lean your back against the countertop. Art positions himself on his knees so that he's on the floor in front of you, looking up at you. His hands shakily reach up to the sides of your pantyhose, his tongue licking out over his bottom lip. He digs his fingers into the taut fabric and looks up at you once more, beginning to pull them down.
Immediately you grab his wrists, halting his movements. His eyes look up into yours, worried that he had made a wrong move, but you shake your head with a soft smile.
"You can rip them."
He doesn't even mean to, but he moans when you give him permission to be a little desperate right now.
In an instant, his strong hands are pulling needily at your tights, causing them to rip from your crotch to your lower thighs. He hooks one of his index fingers into the inside of your panties, his thighs tensing up at the feeling of your wetness, and then he's pushing them to the side. His tongue rests out over his bottom lip as he leans in, holding the back of your leg with his free hand as his eyes flutter shut and he engulfs your heat with his mouth.
"Oh, fuck-!" you yelp, reaching down to tangle your hands in his soft curls, "fuck, fuck, that feels good, Art, don't stop.."
He moans, his eyes squeezed shut as he lathes his tongue up and down and over your wet hole. He lewdly sucks and swallows your slick that's quickly spilling over his tongue, trying to focus harder on your pleasure (and less on the feeling of his cock throbbing rapidly in his boxers.. he can feel himself leaking).
You remove your hands from his hair and move to unsteadily grip the countertop, your back pressing hard against it. Art hums around you in his mouth, moving his tongue up to lick sloppily at your clit. He opens his eyes, his brows furrowed, and looks up at you.
"God, you're so good at this.. you're doing so well.. i'm getting.. close.." you breathe out, studying the upper half of his face while the lower half remains buried in your pussy.
He doubles his efforts, smushing his face deeper against you, his lips pursing to suckle against your sensitive nub as his grip on your leg tightens. Art has half a mind at that moment to just scoot forward a bit and slot your ankle between his thighs, but he won't. You came first, in his mind. Literally, and figuratively.
You sling the leg that he's holding over his shoulder, giving him more access, and then you begin to feel an overwhelming, hot numbness creep over your lower half..
"ANGH!" you moan loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as your body begins to shake. Your fingers grip the kitchen counter so hard that you're afraid you'll break a nail.
"I'm going to cum, Art..!"
"Mm! Mm-mm!"
"I'm.. oh my god.... I'm... I'm-! Cumming-!" you whine, feeling your orgasm crash over you.
"MM-!" he laps at your pulsing cunt, squeezing his eyes shut before forcing them open so that he can watch the way your beautiful face moves to contort in ecstasy.
You groan and whine as your orgasm's aftershocks are uncomfortably prolonged by Art's relentless tongue, and your hands release the marble countertop to reach down and grab two soft fistfuls of his hair. You try to tug his head back from your cunt, but he just closes his eyes and presses his nose and mouth further against your core. The repetitive movements of his tongue over your folds cause lewd, wet noises to fill the kitchen.
"Art... A-Art..! Enough!" you slur out as the pleasure from before starts to melt into a prickly sting of oversensitivity.
His eyes flutter open and you shoot him a warning glance as he peers up at you.
"I said enough, yeah?" you snap, "stand up."
He immediately pulls his mouth away from your sticky body and stands up on shaky legs. His eyes look downward, guiltily avoiding your gaze, as he wipes at the clear slick covering his chin with the back of his hand.
You try to catch your breath for a moment, studying his chest as it heaves up and down -- him trying to catch his breath all the same. You reach out and take his lower jaw softly in one hand, forcing him to look at you properly.
"You got a little fucking greedy there for a minute.. didn't you?"
He bites his bottom lip for a second, nervously chewing on the inside of it as he debates what answer he could give that would result in the least amount of punishment from you.
"Did you hear what I said?" you whisper coldly, taking a step closer to him as your hand grazes against the erection standing proudly in his underwear.
His body automatically jolts forward, and he lets out a shaky breath as his brow twitches. "Yeah.. I did.." he huffs out.
You smirk, wrapping your hand around him over the dark blue fabric, "And what do you think, hm? Were you being greedy?"
He looks deep into your eyes, his lips parting as he feels you start to stroke him. He tries to stop it, but his hips start to shallowly buck against your grasp, and now he can't get any words out. He wants to, but he just.. he really can't.
You roll your eyes.
"You know what I want you to say, honey. Use that big brain of yours."
He moans softly, his hands coming up to hold the sides of your upper arms as his eyes grow lidded.
"I'm.. I was being greedy.. I'm greedy," he moans lowly, thrusting into your hand a bit quicker and with a tad bit more abandon.
"Yeah, yeah you are. You're a greedy little whore for this, aren't you?"
He nods slowly but repeatedly as his brows pinch together and his breathing picks up.
"Yesss," he says brokenly, his voice straining a little as his moans start to become whimpers and whines, "I'm.. s' greedy for you.. jus' for you.. mm..!"
You nod and smirk up at him as his face becomes pinker and pinker, "That's it, pretty boy.. good job. You like when I stroke your pretty cock?"
He lets out an obscenely loud moan as his abdomen curls in over itself a bit, his hands gripping the sleeves of your work top and pulling helplessly at the fabric as he feels a spurt of precome burst into the inside of his boxers.
You chuckle a little as you watch him visibly get closer to his climax, but then he suddenly releases the hold on one of your sleeves and urgently grabs the hand that's moving over his clothed length.
You look down to where his hand holds yours, and he lets out a filthy whimper as he pulls your touch off of him and then urgently pushes your hand past his waistband and down into the front of his boxers. You gasp at his seemingly impulsive actions, feeling your fingers finally come into contact with his slicked-up cockhead. Your fingertips just barely brush over his hot, leaking slit.. sliding over a thick glob of pre.. and then he's being sent over the edge. To the average person, the touch would be essentially imperceptible, but not to him.. not to Art. He was just far too sensitive.
Your husband lets out a startled cry as he doubles over your frame in front of him and frantically moans, his whole body trembling and tensing as his balls draw up, "I'm cumming!"
You don't even have time to really process what's happening until you feel your hand being covered in warm fluid, the substance dripping down your fingertips as Art basically comes untouched. You look up at him, dumbfounded, before you feel your abdomen grow warm and tingly. That was kinda.. hot?
"Jesus, baby," you whisper breathlessly as his hips jolt a few more times before stilling as he gulps air down into his lungs, "didn't realize you were that worked up.. that was a little quick, no?"
He moans softly, still feeling your fingers graze him inside of his boxers.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.." he says, his breathing hitching in his throat as he tries to get the words out in spite of the pleasure still thrumming through his veins. He was still rock hard.
You smile, quickly using your clean, opposite hand to pull his boxers down to his lower thighs. His length slaps up lightly against his stomach before bobbing out in front of him, a tiny pearl-like bead of cum still leaking from his tip. He sighs shakily as he looks down at himself, and then up at you. You wrap your cum-covered hand around the base of his shaft, causing Art to jerk forward from sensitivity. He pulls a sharp breath in, his face scrunching up a little as he tries to control his body.
"I'll let you cum again," you start, watching his eyes light up, "but! you need to give me a warning this next time, okay? I want a clear warning, love."
He nods at your words, a more serious expression plastering over his face, "I will, I promise.. I.. I can give you a proper warning, ma'am.." he whispers.
And with that, you slide your hand from his base to his tip in one smooth motion, your thumb gliding over the head.
"GAH-!" he shudders forward, hissing in pain for a moment before he starts to moan again.
"You okay? Can you handle this?" you ask, your tone soft but seductive as you try to tease him but also legitimately check in. You two were always good at looking out for the other's wellbeing during your sessions together; the exchange of love and tender-care came easily to you both-- it was never something either of you had to question.
He nods, "Yeah, yes-ss, I can t-take it.." he slurs a little, watching your hand move up and down over his throbbing length.
"Look up into my eyes, darling," you purr, your hand starting to pick up speed, "does it feel good?"
He meets your eyes, his blue ones swimming with lust and desperation as he felt the beginnings of his second orgasm start to creep in, "Yes, fuck-! Yes! It feels so fucking good--!" he whines.
"Remember what we just talked about?"
He nods fervently, sucking his plump bottom lip in between his teeth as his focus darts from one of your eyes to the other. You speed up your hand, squeezing his shaft a little more to give him some pressure that you assume he needs.
He keens instantly, a loud moan rumbling from his chest as his thighs start to shake and his eyes squeeze shut.
"Art," you murmur in a seductive but warning tone.
He shakes all over, nodding his head, before his back stiffens up and he becomes incredibly tense. You keep your hand moving at the same fast pace, hoping his memory today is as good as his stamina.
"I'm going to cum," he whispers quickly, bringing his hands up to hold onto your shoulders as he pulls you closer.
You smile in approval, leaning in close to his ear and breathing warmly against his skin as you speak softly, "thank you for telling me, angel. do you want to cum for me?"
He nods, whining out a hasty "mhm". He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your hot words against his upper neck.
You press a chaste kiss there, and then you slide your hand up to gently grip his shaft while your thumb moves to rapidly swipe over his frenulum.
"Come."
And he does just that.
Art's back arches as soon as your one commanding word reaches his ears, cumming uncontrollably with an abrupt cry of pleasure. At first, his body is incredibly rigid as he lets go, his brows pinched up together as he feels the first, pulsing waves of his orgasm hit him, but then the full sensation of his release hits him and his whole body shudders deeply. He lets out little breathy moans and gasps as he relishes in the bursts of pleasure rolling over his cock. You slow your thumb down a bit as you watch him spurt rope after rope over your hand and onto the kitchen floor as he comes undone for you a second time.
"Fucking hell," you moan, now going back to stroking him fully instead of just rubbing a digit against his tip.
He grits his teeth in an instant, being pulled from his afterglow by the feeling of your hand forcing him back into a feeling of overstimulation. "Ah-! Ah!.. T-Too much, too much," he whimpers, his hands instinctively reaching down from your shoulders to push at your hand that's currently working him towards a third, uncomfortable orgasm that he's not even sure he wants anymore.
You use the hand that's not stroking him to move his hands away from your occupied one, giving him a small shake of your head.
"Hands behind your back, please. We're not done yet, okay?" you coo.
He quickly follows orders, moving both of his hands behind his back and away from his aching length, although not without letting out a sniffly whine of protest first.
"Please, ma'am.. I'm.. I can't do it I can't do it-- I'm-- AH!"
You cut off his soft moans of agony with a brief squeeze to the base of his dick, looking intently up into his eyes through your lashes.
"If you really want to stop, baby," you tilt your head teasingly, "you can always use the safeword, yeah?"
He bites his lip before he lets out a warped cry, his head lolling backwards in the same instant. You stop moving your hand.
"Art, darling," you whisper to him comfortingly.
He brings his head back upright to look down into your eyes, his face blank with pleasure; he almost looked drunk. His eyes were glazed over, his cheeks were pink, his hair was a mess, and his lips were parted to let out harsh little breaths of air as he tried to regain some semblance of being grounded in his own, ruined body.
You reach your free hand up to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over the side of his face.
"Does it really hurt that bad? You know that you can be honest," you whisper, now a little concerned that maybe you pushed him too far.
He thinks for a moment before shaking his head slowly and swallowing a bit of drool that he realized has been collecting in his mouth for the past minute or so, "N-Just a little.." he breathes out.
You nod, giving him one soft stroke of his come-covered cock. He gasps and his torso jolts at the sensation, faint tears springing to his eyes.
"Sorry, sorry," you hum, "should we stop here then? I think maybe that would be best for you.. you've already done so well for me.."
The latter half of your sentence, that subtle bit of praise, gives him all the motivation he needs to want to unravel again.
He looks down at his still-hard cock, and then back up at you, and shakes his head. His tongue pokes out over his bottom lip and wets it as he tries to collect his thoughts.
"No.. no, I can do- I can go again, ma'am.. I pro-promise.." he slurs out, thrusting up into your hand.
You raise a skeptical brow at him and his movements, keeping your hand still.
"Are you sure? You know that I won't be upset with you if you want to stop, Art."
He shakes his head again, his lip trembling, "Please."
You smile softly and start to move your hand up and down over his cock again. Despite his previous indications that it was painful, the feeling has now seemed to morph back into unfiltered pleasure as he lets out a high-pitched moan of your name. He babbles endlessly, a mixture of pleas for more, letting out repetitive mumblings of "feels good", and "yes", and an assortment of stuttered expletives.
It doesn't take long for Art to get close again.
"I think 'm gonna come again," he mumbles, letting his eyes fall shut as his head slumps forward against your shoulder. You stroke him quicker, focusing on his hypersensitive tip as you feel a drip of precome come out.
"Oh? You want to come again?" you tease coyly.
You could be cruel sometimes. He had known that this part was coming eventually.
He shakes his head against the crook of your neck with a whine, "don't do this, please.."
You stop your hand at the base of his cock, halting his orgasm just as his load started to rise up his length. Art bites back an obscenely loud moan of protest that is dying to be let out..
"No, no no noo," he squirms against you, repetitively shaking his head as his face remains buried in your neck.
"You know what you need to do, darling."
"Please," he moans, "let me come.."
"You want to come?"
"Yes."
"You do?"
"YES..!"
"How should I make you come?"
"Can y- keep stroking my- I want my cock to be- I-" he mumbles incoherently.
You place your free hand on the back of his head, pushing your fingers pleasurably into his hair as he trembles against you.
"You want me to keep jerking you off? Hm?"
"Y-Yes-ss!" he moans out brokenly, using every bit of restraint within himself to resist the urge to move his hands from behind his back and relieve his aching parts.
He would never do that, though.. no matter how much he wanted to. He would always follow your wants and needs first. Those were most important to him.
"Ask me for what you need again. Nicely; just the way I like it."
"Please, can I come?"
"Again."
He whines, his hips involuntarily bucking up against your stilled hand wrapped around him.
"Please," he sobs, "can I please come for you?"
"Yes, honey, you can come."
You start to stroke his cock once again, and within just a few pumps Art is releasing again. Even though you can't see them because his face is still in your shoulder, his eyes roll all the way to the back of his head as he lets out a couple pitiful squirts of white, sticky liquid over your hand. "Ooh, that's it.. good boy.. are you my pretty little slut?"
When Art hears this, he isn't exactly sure what happens, but it's like the orgasm that's already halfway finished just completely starts over.
"Ohh my fucking- oh my god-dd-! Ugh! HNGH-!"
It's like every single nerve ending in his body is lighting up at once, and he can't do a damn thing about it.. he can't stop it...
His legs nearly go limp underneath him, and he has to lean further into you to prevent himself from collapsing.
Art then releases the most pornographic moans you've ever heard and tenses up in your hold all over again. You're not really sure what's happening until he--
"I'm cumming again! I'm cumm-m-ing-! Again! Ohmyfucking--! GOD!"
He whines and sobs against your body, his arms still held behind his back as you feel his cock jump and pulse in your hand again. This time, nothing comes out. It's odd because it's clear that he's cumming for a fourth time, but there's nothing to show for it.
You slow your hand but continue to stroke his length which is now covered in the creamy-white filth of his previous loads. His cock softens a little, but you're unsure when his orgasm ends because, again, nothing is coming out.
Art's frame suddenly begins to jerk around every time your hand brushes over his tip, and he lets out a hiss of discomfort through his gritted teeth and a sniffle afterwards. As soon as you hear that, you know he's done and you quickly remove your hand. Any extra stimulation and he'd genuinely start to cry. You could save that for another time.. if he wanted you to.
You move your other hand from his hair to his clothed upper back and rub small, comforting circles over it.
"I've got you," you whisper, "you did such a good job, baby. You just came dry for me."
He nods, sniffling wetly and exhaustedly.
You continue to rub his back for a minute or so in silence as he comes back down to earth; the pleasurable waves of his release's aftershocks allowing him to bask in the ebb and flow of it all as he tries to calm his ragged breathing.
"I feel weak," he groans softly.
You nod, "I'm right here, you're okay.. take some deep breaths for me, honey."
He nuzzles deeper against your neck and sighs contentedly, the fuzziness in his head starting to dissipate with your caring words and gentle touch.
"You're my good boy," you whisper, pressing your cheek against the side of his head.
"Mhmm," he hums, "always for you."
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆.
notes; WOAH. ok. so this has been like months in the making by now i think..? but i finally finished it :D thank u so much to everyone who has been patiently/loyally waiting for this one after i teased it for over a month on this blog 😭 + thank u to anyone who gave me some kind words of encouragement when i had to put this aside for a while. i luv u guys !! <3
reblogs are always allowed + appreciated!
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fangymutt · 4 days
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Help a struggling unemployed job searching transgirl make rent
Hi I know my donation posts have made rounds and been seen and its probably exhausting. I am at the end of my rope. My partner and I are struggling to gain any work, I have been applying nonstop, I have looked into and have begun the steps to go to the local college not for degrees but certificates and job training to try and help me get a job. I have lived on indeed since losing my job unexpectedly in January of this year. Last year saw us being thrown into turmoil as my partners father passed and we lost the only support system we had. I am physically limited from certain jobs (I have had 2 back injuries and knee problems so warehousing is no longer an option for me and thats the majority of work for my area) I'm asking for support only as long as I remain unemployed, I send upwards of 10-15 applications a day at this point and most are ghosted. I havent given up trying but its incredibly hard (I am not saying im trans im not even getting to interviews im closeting myself and deadnaming its not enough)
Rent is $1080, I have raised $105 as of 5/24/2024, I need Rent by June 3rd, 2024 at the latest. Anything helps and shares mean a ton. Thank you for reading and for any and all help <3
$430/1080 5-27-2-24
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o-lanterns · 9 months
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Simon Petrikov the Episode... I know Simon's the star but I can't stop thinking about Finn.
Seeing firsthand just how badly his grief over Jake has messed him up. All of his progress in emotionally connecting with himself and with others essentially went down the drain. He can't process anything outside of the lens of epic questing. His idea to help Simon is to put the man in mortal danger for the purpose of rescuing him and never once considered that Simon could be seriously injured or killed, because of course Finn the Human is too strong! This is nothing to him, his job is to fight and protect. And when Simon does actually get hurt Finn shrugs it off. Ahh, that's just another battle wound, nothing fatal! It'll be a cool scar!
He is literally not coping but he thinks he's doing great. And it breaks my heart that it's all so... Martin-like of him. He cannot have back what he lost and he responds by bottling it and pushing through jovially as if unaffected, and in turn does not register anything as a true threat anymore because in his eyes nothing could be worse than what has already happened. He is all jokes and rowdy hubris and "Hey now, talkin' about sad stuff gets ya nowhere! Forget about it!"
Finn is just living thrill to thrill and clinging to distractions in between (and trying to find someone to fill the hole where Jake was- we saw him taking on Bronwyn as an adventure partner in Obsidian and now TV. but they don't stick. it's never going to be the same.) and we already know from Together Again that he will maintain this behavior until his last breath.
It's fantastic character writing but I am so distraught at the state of my boy.
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Infected
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Miguel O'Hara X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info
Summary: An accident at one of Alchemax’s labs has led to Miguel being briefly contaminated with cA1m - a prototype drug that is meant to calm animals. However it seems to have a very different effect in humans.
A/N: A massive thank you to @midgardian-witch for reading the beginning of this (catching a hilarious typo), making some excellent suggestions,  and reassuring me that I hadn’t just lost my mind completely (yet).
Reader doesn’t know Miguel’s spiderman.
Warnings: dubious consent - it’s basically a sex pollen fic, blood, hair pulling (can I write a fic without an Oscar Isaac character getting their hair pulled?), so much cum, hand job, oral (both m and f receiving), things get a little rough, face fucking, cum eating, biting, scratching, p in v sex, typos, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!
Word Count: 5433
________________________________
“It’s mainly preliminary.” You said with a smile. “You weren’t in the room, but the filtration system links four of the labs.” 
You check over Miguel’s notes, so far, he didn’t have any symptoms. 
There had been an ‘accident’ in Lab B2, an accident that was being rapidly looked into. Lab B1, and B4 had been empty, but Miguel had been in B3. 
Miguel was currently in a rapidly repurposed testing room, sitting on the bed with his shirt rolled up his forearms. His specific request for somewhere with reinforced walls, doors and windows had been… unusual. But he was a big guy, couldn’t hurt to be too careful. 
“How are the others doing?” He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. 
“Okay,” you nodded. There had been eight people in Lab B2 when the container had broken. Two people, like Miguel, weren’t showing any symptoms. 
The chemical compound, nicknamed cA1m, while liquid in its storage unit, turned to a gas at above zero degrees. Luckily it also denatured quickly, and there was a good chance that those who still weren’t showing symptoms were unaffected. 
The chemical’s intention was for a more humane way to calm wild animals and livestock during veterinary checks. That way the animal in question didn’t need potentially dangerous anaesthetic for basic to mild level medical care. 
It also wore off in 24 hours. 
However, it still needed some work. And while early tests had gone well, apparently it did not have the desired effect in humans. 
Four of the six infected had gone feral, absolutely crazy with rage, trying to kill and destroy everything and everyone within their reach. 
Luckily no one had been severely injured before they had been tranquilised. 
The other two were different, they had… other urges. 
“Have you found any links as to why Doctor Guerrero and Doctor Vaughan didn’t react like the others?” Miguel asks. His voice was calm and controlled, like it always was. Politely interested, like he was listening to a presentation about your latest control data. 
“Well, I have an idea. Though I haven’t fully proven it yet.” 
He tilted his head to the side in a silent question. The action was endearing, it made your heart flutter and heat rise to your skin. And you hated it so, so much. 
You smiled quickly and looked down, trying to cover the fact you’d been staring at him for a second too long. 
“So,” you continued, drawing the word out a little to give you a pause of breathing room. “Both Guerrero and Vaughan are in relationships, both of them wanted to,” you pause for a moment, trying to find the most professional way to phrase it. “get to their partners. Unlike the others they also had a massively increased level of oxytocin.” 
“Your theory is that that cA1m causes a berserk level of rage unless the subject is in love?” There was the smallest smirk on his lips.
It sounded stupid when he put it like that. 
“Well… yes.” You fold your arms. “Look, Miguel,” he grinned when you said his name and you fought, and lost, the urge to smile back. “I’ve had fourteen hours and six people to base this off, plus three who are showing no symptoms. Give me a break, yeah?” 
He held up his hands playfully. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You gave me a look.”
“What look?” He teased. 
“I know you want to be trying to figure this out yourself, but you’re the one who insisted on not being allowed any breakable, or expensive, equipment while you’re in here.” 
He smiled. “It’s true.” His gaze was heavy, crushing almost. 
You shook your head and turned to the side table. “Anyway, are you gonna let me draw some blood or what?” 
He nodded and held his arm out to you. 
You know why you had been ‘nominated’ (begged) to be the one to see Miguel. He wasn’t the easiest CEO to work for in the sense that he was both physically and mentally intimidating, but what usually threw most people was that he was quiet, tended to watch and listen. 
And he had a bit of resting bitch face.  
But he was actually pretty pleasant to talk to when you got to know him. 
You brushed your arm against his as you moved to get your equipment. Miguel audibly gasped. 
A flash of worry pinched at your mind, you turned to look at him. “You okay?” 
Miguel nodded; he was staring straight ahead at the wall. Obviously in distress.
“Miguel?” This wasn’t the same as those who had suddenly developed into a full-blown rage, but still you couldn’t help the sense of apprehension that crawled along your skin. You glanced at the sedative on the side table and shook your head.
“Miguel?” You spoke again, a little softer and moved a step closer towards him. 
He shuddered at your voice, screwing his eyes up tightly. Sweat was beading on his forehead, heat rolling off him in waves.
“Miguel, I’m gonna-”
He moved faster than you could comprehend, one second he was sitting on the bed and the next he was looming over you, his hands clenched tightly around your biceps, and forcing you back.
You yelped as he pressed you into the wall, grabbing hold of his forearms. 
His eyes were dark and wild, brimming with a terrifying energy.
“Miguel, wh-”
He crashed his lips into yours, swallowing down your words and slipping his tongue into your mouth frantically. It took you a fragment of a second to react, surprise freezing your limbs solid. 
Miguel took your delay to his advantage, pushing his knee between your legs and pressing close. Not leaving a fraction of space between you as he devoured your mouth. Stealing your breath and igniting heat along your veins. 
“Miguel,” you managed to push him back, the heels of your hands in his chest. This was the cA1m affecting him, it was the only explanation. Maybe the filtration system had diluted the chemical and caused a delayed reaction. “You need to-”
He snarled, his eyes pinpoint focused on you as he leaned forward and kissed you, hard. All tongue and sharp teeth as he wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and gripped your thigh bruisingly tight, hitching it high on his hip. 
You’d had dreams like this, fantasies, where he pinned you to the wall and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. But you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t take advantage of him like this- 
There was a sharp pinch of pain as Miguel sank his teeth into your bottom lip. You let out a small squeak of surprise, pulling away from him. And raised your hand to your mouth, your fingers coming back red. 
Miguel, however, seemed unphased as he trailed kisses along your neck, smearing your blood along your skin. He ground his hips into yours, rocking back and forth and- oh god, he was big, just like the rest of him. 
“Miguel, you need to,” you swallowed down a whimper as he sucked at your pulse point, just managing to resist the urge to hold him closer, to run your hands through his hair. “It’s the cA1m, you’re not thinking straight.”
He murmured something into your neck, his mouth not leaving your skin far enough for the words to be intelligible. 
“Miguel-” You gasped as he nipped at your throat, not enough to break the skin this time. 
Heat was burning from his skin, scorching into your body like you were too close to a flame. 
You grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back a fraction too forcefully. You thought the brief pain might snap him out of it, give him a second of clarity. But as his chin tilted upwards, exposing his neck, he let out a long groan, his eyes squeezed shut. 
It went straight to your core, your thighs clenching at the sound. 
“Need you so bad, shit,” he rocked against you harder, pressing his length right up against your centre. “Always need you, you don’t understand,” he moaned and buried his head back into your neck, despite your grip on his hair, and sucked a love bite into your skin.
This time you couldn’t resist the urge. You sunk your fingers deeper, scratching your nails along his scalp and pulled him closer, pushing his face in your neck.
Miguel groaned appreciatively, digging his sharp nails into your shoulders. He nipped just below your ear, the keen, yet sweet little sting of pain blended with the slow and steady roll of his hips was simply tortuous. Almost enough to make you lose all common sense. 
Almost. 
You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t do this, you just couldn’t do this. 
“Miguel-”
He whined as you said his name. 
And you had to bite your lips together in order to hold onto your fading self respect. 
“On the table,” you swallowed, trying to get your words out quickly, “there’s a sedative. It’ll help, it’ll-”
“You’ll help, being near you helps.” He mumbles, the words barely audible. He snakes his fingers along your ribs, just teasing the hem of your shirt.
“We just need to-oh!”
Miguel grabs hold of your shirt and pulls, ripping it open, buttons pinging off and going flying. Honestly, there’s less resistance from the material than you expected.
And then he's everywhere, his face buried in your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts as his fingers pinch at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. 
You can't stop the moan of surprise that escapes your lips as you arch into his touch. 
You had to stop this, now. Before he did something you'd very much enjoy and he'd very much regret. 
"Fuck," you hiss under your breath and act quickly, trying not to overthink and get yourself caught up. 
Maybe if he… had some relief you could grab the sedative in the afterglow. Hell, maybe he wouldn't even need the sedative if he came once. 
Before you can lose your nerve you quickly unbuckled his trousers and managed to squeeze your hand under the material despite Miguel's frenzied mind trying to keep the physical space separating you both to a minimum. 
He gasps as you touch him, letting out a choked sob that your brain was already committing to memory and filing under 'for use later'. 
The velvety soft skin was rock hard and burning hot against your hand. So big that you couldn't even get your fingers fully round his girth. 
"Please." He muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands resting tightly on your waist. 
His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth slightly open and when you moved your hand, the smallest upwards movement. He let out the sweetest sigh. 
You bite your lip and wince as you catch the broken skin, but it doesn’t stop you from tracing your thumb over the tip of him, smearing precome along the head. You were trying to be quick, methodical, clinical, as you began to stroke him, setting an even pace. This was just a problem to solve. You should not be enjoying this. 
But every glide of your hand, every touch, made Miguel gasp and moan as if it was the first time he’d ever experienced such sensations, made him bite his lip with his sharp (had they always been that sharp?) teeth, and it was intoxicating. 
He pistoned his hips into your touch, thrusting faster and faster, and practically growling as he grew closer to his release. 
You couldn’t help but watch him, enraptured, as heat pooled in your lower stomach, your own need growing. But this wasn’t about you. 
Still, you couldn’t help yourself rocking back and forth against his leg ever so slightly to just take the edge off. 
Miguel grunted, his eyes rolling back in his head, and there was a sharp pinch of pain as he tightened his grip on your waist, his nails digging in much harder than they surely should have been able to.
He swore under his breath as he cums, twitching under your touch, and coating your hand and stomach with his release. 
There’s so much of it, far more than there should be as he cums and cums, gasping for air. Another side effect of the cA1m - perhaps you’d be annoyed as his release soaks into your ruined shirt if the sight of him reaching his peak wasn’t exhilarating. 
You let go of him quickly, managing to disentangle yourself from him, despite Miguel low, exhausted whine of protest. 
God, how were you going to get a new shirt without running into someone? And, you realised, probably a new pair of trousers too. Miguel’s spend had run down and soaked into the left side. 
You grabbed the sedative from the side table. Your mind already racing, it wasn’t Miguel’s fault but would he remember? Would he be awkward with you now? Would your little chats and jokes stop? You swallowed down a pang of fear and turned. Now wasn’t the time for what ifs you-
Miguel grabbed your arms and you squeaked in surprise. How could he move so silently? His eyes were dark, hooded with lust, his trousers just hanging from his hips and… well, obviously so much for the idea that him cumming once would be enough. 
“I need you.” He growled, his voice so low that you almost felt light headed. “I know you want me too, I can smell it.” He leaned forward scraping his teeth over your pulse point, and for a shameful moment you let yourself get caught up again, allowed yourself to revel in the sensation for the smallest second. 
While he was distracted you pushed the needle into his upper arm, through his shirt, and injected the sedative. 
It shouldn't take long. 
He growled, pulling his mouth away from your neck to stare dangerously into your eyes. 
You swallowed. A spike of fear dug into the base of your skull, some ancient urge telling you to run. 
“It’s okay,” you said soothingly, unsure if you were really talking to Miguel or yourself. “It’s just the sedative.” You pulled the needle out of his arm. “You’ll be fine, let’s lay you down so-”
He kissed you hungrily, harsh and demanding as he forced his tongue into your mouth. 
You allowed yourself to kiss him back the smallest amount as you waited for the sedative to work. 
And waited… And waited…
Oh, no, just no, this wasn’t right, this couldn’t be right. There was more than enough in the injection to knock him out and yet he didn’t show any signs of slowing down. 
Okay, so, this definitely wasn’t how it went with the others. 
You side step, trying to twist past him and break his hold all in one movement. Maybe you could get to the door, maybe you could do… something. Your mind raced, there had to be a way to fix this, to help him, to be useful. 
The side step didn’t work, Miguel’s grip was too tight, and you stumbled, skidding around and to your knees. The edge of the bed thumped into your back. 
You gasp, gulp and stare up at him. That spike of fear dragging itself down your spine. 
He growls and moves closer, his length bobbing and perfectly at your eye level. His gaze is dark and desperate, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. You could see his pulse thundering in his neck, echoing along the length of his dick. 
Rapid heartbeat was one of the side effects all the others had experienced, the sedative being the only thing that had managed to return it to a normaler level. 
Maybe there was only one way you could be useful. 
Miguel shifts his weight, preparing to move, but you lean forward first and run your tongue along the length of him. 
A deep moan rumbles in his chest as you touch him, a gasp of breath. The sound floods heat to your core. 
You wrap your lips around the tip, grabbing hold of his hips to pull him closer as you swallow as much of him as you can. You bob your head, encouraging him to move with you and there is a moment where you can feel the tension in his muscles, the strain in his thighs as he tries to hold back, to keep himself in check. 
It doesn’t last long. 
He snarls and thrusts forward, snapping his hips and nearly choking you. You splutter, trying to breathe through your nose but Miguel doesn’t give you a second to recover. He pushes forward, the back of your head slamming against the edge of the bed as he plunges deeper and deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease and still not even half way in. 
Your grip on his hips tightens and you don’t know if you’re trying to pull him away or urging him on. 
It burns, the size of him makes your jaw ache, tears roll down the sides of your cheeks from the force of his relentless thrusts. 
His hands dig into the mattress by the side of you head, tearing into the fabric as he pounds into you, fucking your mouth with everything he’s got. 
He groans, “yes, baby, yes,” his voice low and barely distinguishable as words. 
You do your best to just hold on, to breathe and take as much as you can. The sounds of his moans filling your ears and mind, and god, how you wished you didn’t have a gag reflex and could take him deeper. 
He keeps ramming into your mouth, snapping his hips against you with a frenzied energy and you push against his lower back, silently begging him to keep going. 
Your neck throbs from discomfort, bruising forming where the skin is repeatedly hitting against the hard outline of the bed frame. Your knees burn from where they continuously rub against the floor with every buck and thrust. 
Miguel lets out a short, animalistic cry as he cums down your throat suddenly. You moan against him, trying to swallow all of it but there’s just so, so much. It spills out of the side of your mouth and down your chin despite your best efforts.
He leans forward, breathing hard, his cock still in your mouth. And for a second you think this is it, the sedative will take hold or maybe this mindless lust has come to an end. 
But he’s still hard when he pulls himself out of your mouth, his eyes still glazed over with the same madness when he looks down at you. He runs his hand over your chin, the pads of his fingers slightly sharp, and collects some of his spend that hasn’t trickled down your neck and onto your torn shirt and bra. Another item of clothing you’d need to change. 
He smears his cum along your cheek, the movement possessive, like he was marking his territory. 
There’s a pause, the lull in the eye of the storm before he pulls you up from the ground with a shocking display of strength, moving as if you were no heavier than a glass of water he was eager to drink down. 
You can’t help the little yelp of surprise that escapes you as he practically throws you onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress and momentarily knocking the air out of your lungs.
But then he’s on top of you, pressing himself firmly between your legs as he growls and snaps his teeth close to your neck. He bites at your throat, hard enough to break the skin and you cry out as the pain quickly disappears into pleasure. 
Your mewls only make his actions more frenzied as he tears your clothes completely off you with a speed that makes your head spin, before removing his own. The material rips so easily, as if he used a blade. 
He runs his tongue along your chest, messily cleaning up the cum he’d spilt along you just moments before. 
“Miguel-” You try to start, but then his mouth is back on yours, tasting like salt and iron as he drinks down your words to leave you breathless. 
You gasp as he breaks away, trailing sloppy kisses down your body, his fingers running over your skin and leaving scratches. He bites your hip partially deeply and you keen, arching up into him as he moans. 
“Your so fucking sweet.” He mutters before kissing lower and lower and, oh god. You nearly scream as his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks hard. Pleasure coils tight in your belly as a new wave of wetness leaks out and soaks into the torn up sheets beneath you. 
His fingers dig into your thighs as he pushes his face into you, only breaking away so that he can lick through your folds hungrily, devouring you like a starving animal. 
“Miguel!” You whine, letting out a series of high pitch moans that sound alien even to your own ears. 
He sucks your clit once more, his teeth just grazing across it before he snarls and pulls away, pushing the back of your thighs and pressing them against your chest with a crushing strength. 
You struggle to take a breath, barely filling your lungs before he’s thrusting into you with a guttural groan and a sharp snap of his hips. 
The size of him hurts, it’s too much, too fast and you gasp in pain. You clench your jaw, your eyes screwing up as your hands fly to his shoulders, trying to push him back even though you know it’s no use against his strength. 
But he stops instantly, stilling his movements. 
You stare up at him in surprise. His eyes are still dark but there’s something else there, something pushing through that lust haze. 
“Pain?” He whispers, sounding the most like his old self that he has since this ordeal began.
You swallow and nod, tears building at the corners of your eyes. 
He slowly loosens his grip around your thighs, letting go shakily as if it is taking a lot of self control to do so. And while he doesn’t pull out, he doesn’t thrust in deeper either. 
Carefully, he manoeuvres your legs down onto the bed either side of him, watching your face for any sign of increased discomfort. It’s only then that he looks down to where you’re joined, completely split open with only a quarter of his length inside. 
He groans lows and you brace yourself for a brutal thrust that never comes. Instead he keeps his hips still as he slowly trails his sharp nails down your stomach, teasing the very edge of your clit before pressing his thumb against it fully. 
A small moan escapes you and you clench down instinctively. Miguel hums in approval and starts to slowly circle the bundle of nerves, the touch light and soft as he just borders on the edge of losing control. 
The pain starts to dissipate quickly, replaced with a steady continuous build of that deep need from before. You start to squirm. The pressure of his thumb isn’t enough and you rock your hips ever so slightly, your breathing hitching in your throat. 
"More?" He whispers.
You nod your head rapidly. 
“Thank god.” Miguel sighs, the words mumbled like a prayer almost too quietly for you to hear, and lets some of his weakening control slip. 
Slowly he pushes further in, the tension shaking in his thighs as he fights with every instinct to pound you into the mattress and turn you into a crying mess beneath him. 
He keeps circling your clit, groaning as feels a fresh wave of wetness leaking out of you. 
You moan, grabbing hold of his shoulders. But this time you pull him towards you, urging him deeper. God, he’s big. Already it’s like you can feel him in your throat. 
The stretch burns, but it’s good, it feels right. Like he is going to reach a whole new devastating part of you. Make you cum so hard that he’ll ruin any other sexual partner for good.
You hook your left leg on his hip and squeeze your calf over his lower back, encouraging him closer, deeper. While you plant your right foot firmly against the bed to rock up against him. 
Miguel groans, his eyes closed. His movements on your clit falter as he slides further in. 
There’s a sharp pain in your hip where his left hand holds you tight,  his nails (it had to be his nails) dug in so deep that they broke your skin. 
You let out a soft whine, clenching around his girth as he presses up against you perfectly and still pushes further in. The pleasure in your stomach tightening and starting to completely overwhelm all other thoughts, urging you to just chase your release. 
Tears prick again at the corners of your eyes, a soft emotion beating hard in your chest. And you can’t help yourself, you grab hold of the back of Miguel’s neck, pulling him down towards you and arching up at the same time to kiss him hungrily. 
He moans into your mouth, pushing back against you and forcing you into the mattress. His hips snap forward, finally sheathing himself completely in your tight, wet heat. 
For a moment it’s like you can’t breathe, so completely full that not even air can enter. 
Miguel stills, giving you a moment to adjust as he licks into your mouth and groans as your walls squeeze around his length. His pubis bone presses firmly against your clit, and you can feel the echo of his racing heart beat along his skin. 
He breaks the kiss to breathe hard, his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours. “I can’t… I need to…”
“Please,” you answer desperately, kissing him softly as you start to rock your hips ever so slightly. 
Miguel lets out a whine, his eyebrows pinched together in bliss and the expression alone is nearly enough to make you cum on the spot. 
“Can’t stop,” he mutters and you're not even sure if he’s aware of what he’s saying anymore as he grabs your wrists in either of his hands and pins them to the bed. “Feels so…” He ruts into you, pulling out so that just the tip of his cock stays inside before slamming back into you. “Fuck. So. Fucking. Tight.”
You wail under him as pleasure runs up your spine and down your legs as he punctuates every thrust with an upwards rock of his hips, continuously rubbing against your clit and pressing the head of his length to that perfect spot inside. 
“So. Fucking. Wet.” He growls. His nails are slicing into your wrists, but you don’t care. Can’t care, you’ve lost all ability to feel anything but the glide of his cock and the heady build of your orgasm. 
“So. Mine.” He growls and bites down hard on your neck. You cry out, the brutal pace of his hips only increasing, bringing you closer and closer and-
You gasp, his name catching in your throat as you finally cum. Every muscle shaking as it crashes over you in waves. 
Miguel tears his mouth away from your neck, blood shining on his lips as he watches you come undone. He moans, his thrusts not faltering for a second. 
“That’s it, cum all over me,” he glances down for a moment watching himself disappearing into you, amazed at how well you’re taking him, how tightly your walls are griping him, trying to milk him for all he’s worth. “Squeezing me so tight, oh shit-” 
He cums loudly, still pistoning in and out of you as he fills you up with his release. There’s still so much of it, some leaks out, spilling out of your abused hole and sticking to your thighs. 
You breathe deeply, your mind foggy from how hard you came. Your legs ache from being stretched so wide, your pussy throbs from overstimulation. 
Miguel doesn’t stop, still rock hard and trusting. Pushing his cum deeper into you. 
“Miguel,” you whine, your throat raw. 
“I can’t-” he bites his lip, “I can’t stop, I need to, fuck, please, I need to-”
You kiss his neck, biting harder than you normally would at his jugular. He whines, the sound going straight to your core. Heat starts to build again.
“Keep going,” you mutter against his skin. “Keep going as long as you need to.” 
.
You wake up sore and sticky. Aching and in pain. Even the slightest movement brings out an array of discomfort. Every muscle throbs, like you had done a year's worth of exercise in one day, and all the bites and scratches sting as you shift, the scrapes making you feel like someone had tossed you naked into a bush of brambles and thorns. 
It takes you a moment to remember where you are, the tiredness in your bones trying to coax you back to sleep. 
“I’m sorry.” 
Miguel’s voice makes you jump. He’s still close to you, laying on his side with his chest pressed up against your back. One arm around your waist. There’s tension there, you know he wants to move away but is scared to move at the same time. 
His cock is pressed against your backside, soft and sated. 
You turn to look at him, too tired to worry about your nakedness. Besides, he had seen plenty of it anyway.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” 
He scoffs. His mouth pressed into a thin line as he looks down. 
It’s only then as you turn around completely to look at him that you see tears in his eyes. “Miguel?” 
You softly touch his cheek but he flinches away from you. The action spikes through your heart. He can’t even look at you now. 
“I’ve got everything to be sorry for, I, I took advantage of you, I rap-”
“No, no, no, no,” you can’t help but touch him again, putting your hand back on his cheek and rubbing your thumb soothingly across his skin. 
This time he leans into it, letting out the smallest, shaky breath. 
“You were infected, Miguel, you couldn’t control yourself. I don’t know how much you remember but the sedative didn’t work, and your heart rate was just, I mean, it was crazy high. And, if anything, I was the one that took advantage of you and-”
His eyes snap open. “You? You took advantage of me?” He says disbelievingly. “Look at you.” He touches the bite marks on your neck gently. 
You give him a little smile. “I don’t mind.”
He breathes out another shaky breath, but there’s a hint of a smile. “You don’t mind?” 
You shake your head. “Happy to help.” 
He chuckles a little at that and nods as he runs a hand through his hair. 
There’s a pause, a silence that you can’t stand. 
“I guess I was wrong.”
Miguel frowns a little, confused. 
“My theory, about people having that reaction if they’re in love, I mean.” 
There’s a pause, the only sound a little gulp as Miguel swallows. Something passes over his face for a second, a faint trace of heat rising to his skin.
Oh. Maybe you weren’t wrong. 
“Miguel?”
He breathes deeply, looking down. “I-”
You don’t give him a chance to finish, letting your adrenaline overwhelm you as you quickly lean forward and press your lips to his. Hoping against hope that you weren’t misreading the situation. 
He’s caught by surprise for a moment, but moans happily and softly kisses you back as his arm wraps around you and pulls you close. 
The kiss is slow and gentle, languid and sweet. It makes your stomach drop like you were falling from a great height. His embrace the only thing keeping you safe. 
He runs his tongue over your bottom lip lightly, careful of the cuts, but licks into your mouth hungrily the second you part your lips. It’s not the same lustful need from before, this is deeper, sharper and desperate in a different way. As if after devouring your body he now needed to devour your soul. 
He kisses you again, lightly before you both pull back for a second. He grins at you, a little shyly and you smile as you stroke his cheek.  
“You weren’t wrong.” He muttered. 
You frown and shake your head, confused. 
He chuckles and kisses you again. “Your theory about love.” 
____________________________________
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