#benefits of praying god

[kiddokori]

guys i caught a mouse at work today

[ringwraithmd]

had some convos tonight im a little buzzed but here are my takeaways. these might start some fires.

somehow they person I talked with is both Anakin apologist and Anakin critical. Idk how they have that exist at the same time, but I'd like to say this to him: the Jedi were victims, the Jedi were not evil, no Obi-Wan isn't evil, Obi-Wan didn't repress and abuse Anakin, no Qui-Gon Jinn was not the bestest Jedi who did things differently than any other Jedi and if only he lived he would've saved Anakin Skywalker. Anakin Skywalker did not fall because he was sleep deprived and had one bad day, he fell for a number of reasons, including that he made choices, which choice as a theme is something George Lucas very deliberately has chosen to emphasize repeatedly in Star Wars. Also, Jyn Erso is an actually interesting character and I think she does care about rebelling, the problem is the repressive totalitarian regime she lives in. It's understandable she'd be a little cynical and despondent after 20 years of Empire. TLJ is not the best sequel trilogy movie, Kylo Ren's a little bitch and should've died sooner. Dave Filoni can kiss my ass. "within the context of the prequels it's hard to see the jedi as the good guys --" no. absolutely not. get some reading comprehension you moron. that's the whole point. the whole point is the jedi were the victims of a plot designed to force them into a position where all they had were bad choices. Anakin chose to murder men, women, and children long before he ever became Darth Vader which is a fact so many people seem to gloss over. "they killed his mother -" and?? he didn't just kill her torturers, he killed children, too. your boy committed massacres and genocides in canon. im not talking about legends or any recent books in comics, but solely about the movies. I get still liking him as a character, but to say that Anakin has done nothing wrong is a take that I just can't understand.

folk music is different than country music. im sorry but it is. yes there are similarities. no I can't explain the differences. but country music is not necessarily folk music, or "stomp-clap" music as you called it. tell me you don't listen to country without telling me. arguably the best argument you could've made about the push back of country music pop-ification is the rise in popularity of artists like Zach Bryan, but you didn't, you started talking about fucking Mumford & Sons. my good dude. no. google them. they're literally described as a folk rock band.

edited 6/23 bc I realized I was drunker then i thought and this was semi-incoherent. hopefully that clarifies things.

[risingsunresistance]

so we know that the admins sided with dante during the resistance. and now we know that shen was the one pulling the strings behind dante, we're still not sure exactly what he did but we know that he was above dante

so do you think the admins ACTUALLY sided with dante and his beliefs, or did they have some reason to stay on shen's good side. is shen powerful enough to threaten the admins 👀

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Currently resisting the urge to blackmail my father into therapy

[tiredtriedfailures]

Personally, I'm a little fascinated by Kendrick's relationship with religion(def get why you aren't into it that much though). The way he describes it is pretty unconventional to traditional black Christianity, I'd call him a spiritualist if anything but idk if he'd agree? I'm interested in theology anyway so maybe it's just me

oh? say more. im definitely interested in analyzing his religious approach! i just 1-dont know enough 2-especially dont know about what would be traditional black Christianity. id say hes plenty spiritual, but looking up the definition its literally believing in communicating with dead spirits etc? oh im not sure. let me know more if you feel like it!

[yappacadaver]

i want to do something so unholy to you tn b ut i have carpal tunnel symptoms u_u

[draczrys]

Would you write something about Cregan Stark getting married to a reader of a house of your choice and thus sealing alliances and being fluffy?

WINTER ROSE. ❨ cregan stark x tyrell!reader ❩

since your birth, the third child and only daughter of highgarden’s lord, your fate had always been a marriage for political means. your elder brother would inherit the title, the other set for life as a knight of the seven kingdoms. you were a girl and your purpose was to marry well and secure a strong alliance for your family.

it didn’t take long to come to terms with what your life would look like. you would come of age and be sent away to the lord that would benefit you most. for your family, you would do it. but, every night, you would kneel by your pillow and pray that your husband would at least be kind —- it needn’t be true love, like the stories you often read. as long as he wasn’t cruel.

“cregan stark has been named the new lord of winterfell and is in need of a wife,” your father announced one morning, amidst the feasting hall. ���i have sent a raven to offer your hand and he has accepted.”

your mother beamed, grasping your shoulders proudly. “my daughter, lady of winterfell.”

“we are in need of his banners and he needs our grain and cloths for the winter,” lord tyrell explains, shrugging as though it were simply a swap of goods and not the life of his daughter. “it is a fair exchange.”

by the next moon, you were departing the green and gold covered fields of highgarden and journeying north on the roseroad. the colder it became, the more you missed the sweet sun and elegant surroundings of your home. northerners were rough and unforgiving to outsiders, each one you met along the way adding to the dreaded image of your husband.

the first time you laid eyes on cregan stark was when you were taken along the path to the godswood. he was handsome, you couldn’t deny that. but his tall build, stoic features and steady gaze made you shiver —- even under the furs you’d been given. he had the look of a northerner, but did he have the heart of one too?

“by the old gods and the new, i name you man and wife,” the septon concluded the ceremony, unbinding the cloth wrapped around your hands. expectant eyes looked on, forcing a blush upon your face as you reached up and pressed a soft kiss to cregan’s cheek.

if you were to confess under the eyes of the godswood, you were afraid of cregan stark. his eyes were unwavering, lips fixed in a permanent frown. other than his vows of marriage, he hadn't said a word. neither of you were elated to be trapped into a marriage of convenience, but you knew you hadn't any choice in the matter. at the least, he could look like he was enduring it.

sat now at the top table in winterfell's great feast hall, your new husband at your side, the celebrations were growing louder the longer the wine was being poured. you sat quietly, barely sipping at your cup. only when the loud, booming voice of cregan's men rang out did you come back to the present.

"a toast, to the new lady of winterfell! may she be as beautiful under our lord as she is beside him."

the laughs that emulated from it made you grimace, so used to being treated as the perfect lady, protected from all things becoming to a man. you knew of sex, the people of the reach having always been open about their bodies and pleasures, but the northern aggression that came with it was foreign to you.

"to the bedding ceremony!"

the ladies at highgarden had warned you of the tradition that came at weddings, the entire party parading around the newlyweds as they stripped and consummated the bond. it was daunting enough to take your new husband to bed, but to be watched by tens of strangers? it had your heart suddenly hammering out of your chest, every muscle tensing in a cold shock.

"enough!" the commanding voice of the man by your side cut through the cheers, silencing the hall in an instant. it was the first time he had spoken since the ceremony, current volume making up for the silence. "there will be no bedding ceremony. anyone who protests will meet the sword at once."

whilst everyone else cowered under the threat, you felt yourself relax with a warm relief. cregan turns to meet your surprise, both his eyes and tongue turning soft as he speaks just to you now.

"you may retire, if you wish."

nodding gratefully, you follow the gentle hand of your lady-in-waiting out of the busy feast and along the strange halls of the cold castle. even your chambers are cold, the climate seeming to cling to the stone around the bed. the silk nightdresses you had brought with you do nothing to shield you from it, so once your lady departs you begin to forage through the chests for something to keep you warm. eventually finding a smaller set of furs amongst the others, you drape it around your shoulders and relish in the heat that comes with it.

"is everything to your liking?"

jumping in shock, you turn on your heels to find cregan stood at the doorway, just about filling the whole space. his eyes flicker down to the furs -- his furs, covering you and a small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.

"i'm sorry," you stumble quickly. "it was cold and it was all i could find."

cregan's head shakes, dismissing your apologies. "it's alright. everything here is as much yours as it is mine, now."

you smile, head falling bashfully to glance at the floor. "i hadn't expected everything to be so... different here. it will take some time to adjust, i think."

nodding in understanding, cregan crosses the room to stand in front of you. you feel yourself shiver under his gaze, watching him study you amongst his territory. hesitantly, his hand slips from under his own furs to reach for your own. you let him, both of you treading new water as your learn each other's touch; the smoothness of your palms, the rough pads of his thumbs, the heat that encompassed your chilled knuckles. the sensation is wonderful, like two puzzle pieces slotting together.

"whatever you need to help you enjoy your new life here, no matter the extent, it will be my honour to find it for you," cregan tells you, the kindness in his voice a pleasant welcome. "you are my wife now, it is my duty to make you comfortable."

feeling your cheeks warm, rounding with the first genuine smile in days. your heart swells and the feeling that this marriage might just be okay fills you, so much so that you find yourself reaching up to kiss cregan's cheek once more. unlike the bonding of the vows, this one is genuine and of your own volition, expressing the gratitude you could not find words for.

"i can sleep elsewhere for the night, if you would wish..." cregan continues, clearing his throat to distract from the small blush that creeps past his skin.

"no, stay," you tell him, squeezing his hand. "perhaps we could talk, learn more about each other."

the suggestion eases you both. cregan agrees, using your hand to guide you towards the bed, only leaving for a moment to fetch you more furs for the night. he potters around, changing for sleep, and the domestic scene lets you relax into the pillows.

it wasn't a marriage for love - yet. but perhaps it could be, with time.

[re-ikrmso]

Looking at RPD!Universe again and it’s 4th season. Honestly, for all that Ikari is motivated by, one I don’t talk enough about is...fear. I’ve mentioned a lot of things that’s happened to them that can explain that fear but... wow, they are really, really paranoid and fearful. They’re expecting some kind of retaliation. They fold to having what little control taken away. For all that they can do, they’ve always ben severely outclased in ablilites and control. Almost everything they do is in motivation to SPITE. Because they think they’re always being watched in the remade world.They’d self destruct if it killed Eleven. 

They’d self destruct if it saved them from Eleven.

[trainer-from-unova]

three is a crowd

𖤐 bandom blog: @princess-lvcifer 𖤐 english ao3 𖤐 spanish ao3 𖤐 edits 𖤐 kofi 𖤐

ship: geta/f!reader/caracalla

summary: where both emperors want to marry you, and they will

a/n: english isn't my first language

cw: none

word count: 1.1k

It was a calm sunny morning, there wasn't a cloud in sight in the sky and the birds were singing and flying back and forth over the trees of the villa. A young girl was sitting on a bench, quietly embroidering when her mother's voice at the other end of the inner courtyard caught her attention, causing her to look away from her handiwork and crane her neck to turn in her direction.

She was far enough away that she couldn't quite hear what she was saying, but she knew she wasn't talking to herself — beside her and looking in her direction were two men, one taller than the other but both with red hair. And although she hadn't (yet) had the (bad) luck to see them many times, she would recognise them everywhere. How could she not? Her eyes widened like plates and she turned almost without thinking, craning her neck again but pinning her gaze to the ground, processing the moment. Still staring at the ground she could feel their eyes on her, and for a second she froze. It didn't take much intelligence to know what they were doing there — she was one of the most powerful women in all of Rome and therefore desired by many suitors behind her, but she never thought she would attract the attention of the emperors.

She remembered what the streets had been saying about them lately: that they were moving heaven and earth to change the marriage law and marry both of them to the same woman. She remembered talking about the juicy gossip days before with her best friend, and joking that it was bad enough to have one husband you didn't love without having two, and more so if it was those two in particular. Were the gods mocking her for having mocked the poor wretch who had supposedly been the "lucky" one to have the favour of both of them days before? She knew they were out to get her and she also knew that, whether she liked it or not, she had to be obedient and polite, so she left her embroidery on the bench and crossed the courtyard to them, praying that the change in the law was only a rumour and that if she really had to marry it would only be to just one of the two.

"Emperors, it is a pleasure to see you again," she said kneeling subtly on her knees with a sweet but false smile on her lips. "Remember me?" She asked looking at both of them.

"How could we not?" asked Emperor Geta.

"The pleasure is all ours," said Emperor Caracalla, scanning her up and down with his typical playful, almost wicked look and smile. Emperor Geta simply grabbed one of her hands to kiss it, and the other was quick to do the same at the same time with the missing hand, creating a scene that would be comical were it not for the fact that she was co-starring with them in particular.

"To what do we owe this pleasant surprise?" She asked everyone present when they had finished greeting her, wanting to confirm her suspicions as soon as possible.

"We have come to make a proposal of marriage," reported Emperor Geta smiling in the same manner as his brother but more covertly.

Neither wanted to marry the young woman for love, for they hardly knew her nor to benefit from her brilliance, for they shone even brighter, but they wanted to do it so that no one else would. If she married an important senator with her nobility and blood, her new husband was likely to threaten their position. They simply wanted to prevent others from marrying her, but they had to share her benefits to be on the same level as each other and unfortunately they could not divide her in two for each of them, so they abused their power to change the law so that they could both marry her.

"Me?" she asked nervously.

"Who else?" asked Caracalla.

"My mother here is still well preserved in spite of her age, as you can see," she said pointing to her, making her blush and making all present laugh. "And may I know who my future husband will be?"

"Both," replied Emperor Geta.

"Both of you?" She looked at the two of them, surprised at the confirmation of the rumours and her earlier suspicions, and even more nervous and unable to stop herself from feigning a smile. She knew that if she married one she could not avoid being close to the other, but to be married to both at the same time was too much, and seemingly impossible. "Is that even possible?"

"Now it is," the taller one replied.

She was so surprised, nervous and confused that she couldn't think straight or formulate words, so not wanting it to ruin the moment and change the emperors' minds about the marriage proposal, her mother decided to intervene.

"My daughter is so happy that it's hard for her to speak."

"That's normal," said Caracalla.

"It's not every day that one is lucky enough to marry two emperors," said Geta looking smiling at his future wife, and as she felt his gaze on her, she couldn't help but stop dissociating and return his gaze.

Both made her nervous, but for different reasons; she felt that Geta saw right through her no matter how well she acted, and that Caracalla wasn't in his right mind. Not wanting to spend another second with them considering she would soon be living with them under the same roof, she decided to open her mouth to say:

"If you'll excuse me I'll leave, I'm so happy I'm feeling a bit unwell" and she wasn't partly lying, she did feel unwell and needed to leave.

After that everyone around her tried to cheer her up, saying that she was a lucky woman, that she would have more power and that she would go down in history as the first empress to marry two emperors at the same time, but that mattered little to her. The only thing that cheered her up was the idea that she would be left alone after becoming pregnant and having to rest so that the baby in her womb could be formed and born healthy, but then the question arose — who would be the father? As much as they wanted to share her, they couldn't both get her pregnant at the same time, and the first-born would rule the empire in the future. A part of her was looking forward to the wedding night to stop suffering from the nerves that ruled her body and mind even though she didn't want to live that moment.

a/n: And then on the wedding night they blindfold you and don't know who fucks you. The end. I wish I could write the smut but I can't and I swear I really really really tried but my personal life has been a mess lately.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version): Future IV

Aggie Beever-Jones x Putellas!Reader

Summary: You and your 'new friend' in Mallorca

There's a soft pad of feet outside the cabana and you peak an eye open.

Your partner for this holiday approaches, fresh from the ocean and your open eye tracks her progress towards the towel that she uses to dry off.

"I don't think I've ever been to a better beach."

"I told you." You sit up, rolling your shoulders. "Everything is better in Spain."

Aggie sits on the edge of your sunbed, fingers slowly walking up your bare leg until they rest on the curve of your knee. "Well, you've certainly shown me that."

You sip at your drink.

It's gone kind of warm in the hot summer sun but it's still drinkable, still full of flavour that gives you that nice buzz in your veins.

"Well," You say, your quiet voice carrying across the air like a secret," I do try."

Aggie's hand climbs up to your thigh, rubbing your skin lightly as she shuffles closer.

"You've done a very good job at it."

You move closer as well until there's barely a centimetre between you.

"Isn't it so nice that this cabana is private?" You drawl, fluttering your eyelashes as you press as close as you can without actually touching your lips against hers.

"Just us," You continue," So far away from anyone else. Just me and you."

"It's perfect," Aggie husks and you finally connecting your lips, grabbing at the back of her neck to deepen it.

She allows you that control at least.

Aggie's fallen into this role fairly well. She knows this isn't going to end in a relationship and, frankly, she doesn't care at all. Straight out of a relationship herself, she's completely fine with this just being a friends with benefits situation.

Your hand pulls at Aggie's neck and she grins into the kiss, finally taking control of it.

You lay back against your sun lounger, grinning as well when Aggie hovers over you.

She's panting, glancing around. "How long until you think that waiter guy's coming back?"

"Forty five minutes? An hour?" You say," He came by a few minutes before you came back."

"Excellent," Aggies says," That leaves us plenty of time."

The sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in red and pink and blue.

You sip at your drink, eyeing Aggie over the top of her menu.

"What?" She says," Is there something on my face?"

"Nothing," You laugh," You look very pretty tonight."

"Flatterer."

"I'm just telling the truth."

"You're in a sappy mood today."

You lift up your drink. "Must be the alcohol."

You both laugh and you relax easily into small talk.

"This trip has been lovely," Aggie says suddenly as the evening winds down," Thanks for inviting me."

"Thank you for not being intimidated by my mother."

That match when you first met, Aggie had nearly been caught on the wrong side of Alexia's wrath after absolutely clattering one of the Barcelona players two minutes into the second half.

"I won't say she's not scary," Aggie says," But I know how to stand my ground."

"I'm glad and pray you never have to meet her in her own house," You tease.

Aggie winks. "Good thing I'm not your girlfriend. God help whoever meets your mother as your girlfriend."

"I can drink to that."

[titania-sleeps]

Angel Yandere x Nun Reader

mild nsfw, minors DNI pls, mentions of implied somnophilia

• Mikhael believed in the goodness within humans. Even if humans exhibited cruelty, it was as God intended, and everything would go back into place once the human's soul was purified.

• Mikhael thought his logic was sound, and thus lived his life charitably blessing humans. They would soon reach salvation anyway. Ease their suffering, and they would become good once more.

• Mikhael then met you. You were a nun in a convent near the church he frequented. Although you seemed rebellious at times, he knew your heart was pure.

• Mikhael enjoyed following you around. He knew that you couldn't see him anyway. Your daily life was mundane, but he enjoyed the knowledge that there were humans who took their dedication and faith seriously.

• Mikhael found himself drifting around you often. He feared that it would be inappropriate of him, but he convinced himself it was for the purpose of ensuring that your dedication was just. Even if it meant that he would be with you even while you slept.

• Mikhael would watch you sleep at night, gazing upon your moonlit form curiously. You elicited emotions within him that he thought he was far beyond.

• Mikhael eventually found himself craving the pleasures of the flesh as time went on. His body heated around you, and his heart pounded dangerously. It was so foreign to him, to experience the needs that he could only have imagined in the past.

• Mikhael wanted you to taint him. An angel felled by the hands of a human; it would stain your hands and his reputation, yet it would be so delicious. A whiff of your scent has his nails digging into his palms.

• Mikhael needed your touch. Without thinking, he would float down and lay next to you. He would cover his mouth with his hand and breathe gently into the nape of your neck as he let himself grind against you. He prayed for you in whispers and gasps; you would be forgiven for his sins.

• Mikhael grew courage over time. His nightly visits became a daily occurrence. Elation filled him as he finally touched his lips to your supple skin. Angels were not deprived of sin, as it would appear to be, since he seemed so deeply devoured by it.

• Mikhael learned the joys of lust from you. As you slept, he would slip out his cock, an appendage formed by the desires blossoming within him. His form grew more defined as his lust grew; perhaps he would benefit from becoming a demon instead.

• Mikhael would whimper as precum leaked from his head, the tip of his thumb swiping over the opening. He gasped, wondering if being inside you would cure him of his depravity.

• Mikhael never came. He wanted you to be the one to take his first. He wanted your fingers to be the finishing touch. He wanted your words to be the gospel that brings him to climax. He wanted you to devour him, to replace the sin within him with your very being. Only then could he be forgiven, and only then would he be satiated.

• Mikhael continued to follow you around, shame growing as his libertine habits flourished. He would bless you and pray for the men that would accidentally die around you. It was quite unfortunate, how you were unable to interact with a man.

• Mikhael wondered if you were secretly a temptress in disguise, but he couldn't ask you. After all, you couldn't see him.

-----

• You could see him. You were well aware of the angel floating around you. Unlike your fellow brethren, you were unnaturally attuned to supernatural elements around you. You could perceive those that many cannot; religious creatures and beasts of legends from across all cultures seemed to flock to you.

• Joining the convent was a means to avoid the dangerous creatures, but you really didn't think a filial angel would show up at your doorstep.

• You knew that he watched you when you were asleep. It was eerie, the way his eyes roamed your body in lust. Pained lust, you could tell.

• You heard mutterings and stifled moans from him at night. One day, maybe you could entertain him a little more.

• Perhaps it would be a little fun to play around with him. Luckily, you weren't a saint.

i um have a drabble do you guys want it,,,,, (it's a continuation of this)

-> masterlist

[thriftedtchotchkes]

waiting to spill

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: mike never thought your week-long trip home would lead to the discovery of a costly new craving

warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, breeding kink, smut, desperate!mike, unprotected piv, creampie, riding, fingering, blue balls, mentions of pregnancy, cum play

word count: 3.9k

(based on this request)

Mike's praying the call goes through this time because if it doesn't, he might just lose his mind. You were supposed to land 20 minutes ago, but it's already half past 4 and your phone's still off.

Will it show how many missed calls you have? God, he hopes not. He's been redialing for the better part of an hour, hoping you landed early, but luck clearly isn't on his side. Every time it goes to voicemail, your voice taunts him. Just another reminder that you're not here—unreachable and untouchable.

Shitty fucking airline. He knew you should've taken an earlier flight, but he didn't want to be that guy. The one who tells you what to do and when, and makes decisions for his own benefit. He's a better guy than that, a better boyfriend than that, it's just—fuck, what is taking so long? 

One more time. He'll try you one more time, and if it doesn't connect, he'll go sit on the couch and distract himself until you call him. He's already waited this long. He can suck it up a little longer. Probably.

He hits redial for the umpteenth time, his forehead thunking against the wall next to the landline, and then something miraculous happens. It rings.

Once, twice, and then you pick up. He doesn't wait for you to answer. Any patience he had left flew out the window hours ago and he doesn't care if you know it.

"Babe?"

You laugh softly on the other end, and it tugs at his heart...and his dick. Seatbelts click open in the background, and sounds of movement and chatter filter through the speaker.

"Hey, you. I actually just landed. I'll call you back once I get through customs, okay?" you reply, bright as ever. 

It sets him off worse than he expected. You're so much more potent in real-time than on voicemail, and it's fucking with his sense of urgency. He doesn't want to rush you, but he needs you. So badly.

"W-wait. Can you come over? After you're done with the airport stuff, I mean," he manages to get out, interjecting cautiously before you can hang up.

"I was gonna stop home to drop off my bags and take a quick shower, but I can come over after that," you reply distractedly, likely dealing with overhead bins and other passengers trying to deplane. 

He shakes his head, gripping the phone a little too tightly as he bites back a frustrated whine. That'll take too long. The airport's about an hour's ride from your apartment, and by the time you're done showering—no. No, just come to him. It's a shorter ride to his house, anyway.

"Just—you can do all of that here. Stay over and I'll drive you back to your place in the morning. Please?" he asks, desperation beginning to bleed into his voice. 

It pulls your attention back to him almost immediately, and he hates how good that feels.

"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" you counter, misreading his plea as an emergency. 

Your phone keeps shifting like it's tucked against your shoulder, and now it sounds like you're moving faster, hurrying like he wants you to, but for the wrong reasons. 

"Everything's fine, I just need to see you," he says, willing you to understand. "Babe, I really need to see you."

He's too ashamed to spell it out. What would he even say? If he doesn't cum inside you soon, he thinks he might die? He's horny, not pathetic.

"Mike, that doesn't sound fine...," you sigh on the other end, your quickening footsteps audible through the receiver. 

"Please."

You pause for a second, and his heart leaps into his throat. Don't say no. Please, don't say no.

"Gimme an hour, okay? I'll catch a cab to your place as soon as I can," you finally agree.

He breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, but it's louder than he realizes and you clock it on the spot.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, all good. I'm just glad you're back. Feels like it's been forever," he mumbles, somehow sated and yet anticipating your arrival more than ever. 

He shifts anxiously from one foot to the other, wincing at the unexpected friction against the growing problem between his legs. The atmosphere around you changes and your responding laugh blends into the bustle of casual conversations and overhead announcements in your terminal. 

"Can't survive one week without me, huh? I guess I'm bringing you and Abby along next time I visit my parents," you joke, but it's getting harder to make out what you're saying. "Look, I'm almost at customs. I'll see you soon, I promise."

The call ends, and he's left with the loneliness of a dial tone and an empty house. He hangs up and plops down on the couch, clutching the TV remote like a lifeline while he desperately tries to ignore the painful tent in his boxers.

An hour. He can handle one more hour.

He can't handle one more hour. It's been 45 minutes and he feels like he's about to burst. The worst part? It's his own damn fault. 

He's the asshole who made the conscious decision not to jerk off the entire time you were gone, but he can't bring himself to regret it. He had his reasons. In about 15 minutes, it'll all be worth it.

Maybe less. 

There's a knock at the door, and he's up and off the couch so fast, he's surprised he doesn't have whiplash. He wrenches it open to find you on the other side, a little stunned by the abrupt greeting, but worth every second of blue balls he put himself through.

"Hey," he breathes out, winded by his mad dash and the relief of you finally being here. 

"Hey, yourself," you smile wryly. Your eyes drop to where he's not even remotely trying to hide his raging boner. "Ah-ha, so that's—"

But that's all you manage to say before he drags you into the house and slams your back against the door, shutting out your luggage and the cab driver still idling in the driveway. His lips crash into yours and you taste so good, it's dizzying. 

Remnants of Sprite and spearmint gum linger on your tongue as it meets his, and he groans, wondering how he went an entire week without this. All that time, deprived of your addictive touch and perfect tits while he tortured himself, waiting for you to come back to him.

He can't decide where to put his hands first, roaming and squeezing from your waist, up your shirt—which he's just realizing is his—to splay across your ribcage. Pressing you harder into the door, he separates from your lips to mouth at the underside of your jaw, mumbling his appreciation between each harsh bruise he sucks into your skin.

"Fuck, I missed you," he pants, shamelessly grinding into your hip for relief. He wants you to feel how hard you're making him, so you'll understand all those missed calls.

"Yeah? I can tell," you laugh breathily, running your hands up his chest, pushing his shirt up as you go. 

Your thumbs brush against his bare skin, sending a heady jolt straight to his cock, and suddenly none of this is moving fast enough. His hands drop to your ass, roughly tugging your hips into his, and you gasp in unison at the friction. Together, you fall into a frantic rhythm, rutting into each other like a pair of horny teenagers.

"Shit, Mike...," you moan his name, and he feels like he's dreaming. He has to be because nothing else in his waking world has ever felt this good.

Contrary to the rest of his body, he kisses you again slowly, savoring every noise he's coaxing from you and devouring them like a man starved. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer, and he swears he's never letting you leave this house again. 

If by some miracle he does, he's going to make sure you're pumped so full of him, you'll be leaking him the entire time you're gone, unable to think about anything else. And when you come back, he'll do it all over again.

Damnit, he needs you in his bed, now.

He backs away from the door with you still in his arms, leading you further into the house down a path you know by heart. Briefly, he separates from your lips to lift your shirt up and over your head, then discards his own before tugging down the cups of your bra to latch onto a nipple.

You hiss at the contact, trembling as he teases it with his teeth, and immediately reach behind you to unclasp the offending piece of fabric. It drops soundlessly to the floor along with your jeans, underwear, and finally his boxers. Nipping sharply at the sensitive skin one last time, he pulls away to admire you, trailing his fingers down your arms until your hands are in his.

You're fucking beautiful. Your lips are kiss-swollen and glossy, begging to be kissed again, and your thighs are...wet, fucking hell. Fuck, he missed you. His mouth starts to water at the thought of licking into you, fucking you with his tongue while your thighs quake on either side of his head, but the painful throbbing between his legs is starting to overwhelm him.

He's positive, now, that if he's not inside you soon, he'll actually die. He's not just horny, anymore. It's so far beyond that.

Four more agonizing steps backward and he's finally passing the threshold into his room, so close to being on his back with you bouncing on top of him—except he doesn't make it that far. 

The door shuts behind you, and then you're on your knees, wrapping those perfect fingers around his dick and guiding him between your lips. He panics. There's no way he's going to last if you try to blow him right now.

Tenderly, you lick a stray bead of precum off the tip, and his balls immediately draw up so tight, he has to slide your hand down to the base and squeeze to keep from cumming on the spot. He shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he inhales sharply through his nose.

"Babe, I can't...," he grits out, struggling to find the words to explain himself. "I'll cum too fast, you can't."

You grin, leaning forward to press your lips against his white-knuckled fist.

"That's sort of the whole point, isn't it?" you tease, trailing back to his cock, seconds away from giving him the most intense orgasm of his life.

"I need to fuck you," he blurts out. It's short and to the point, but there's no use in pretending he doesn't. At this point, he'll be lucky if he doesn't explode the second he's inside you. "I need to fuck you so bad right now, I feel like I'm going crazy."

You pause to look up at him, your eyes roving over his face, lingering on his angrily ticking jaw. You get it, now.

"Hey, it's okay—you're okay," you murmur, leaning forward to kiss away another drop of precum. He chokes back a groan and reflexively jerks away, and you take the hint to release your grip. "Okay, fuck me. Show me how much you missed me."

But you don't have any idea what you're asking for, do you? He missed you so much. There's so much catching up to do, and he has so little patience left.

He doesn't waste any more time. With every ounce of self-control he's got left, he drags you to your feet and towards the bed, trying his best not to manhandle you up the mattress and onto his lap. He fails epically. The second he's flat on his back with you grinding down on him, his patience becomes a thing of the past.

"You ready for me? Because I'm not gonna be able to stop, and I need you to feel good," he's starting to babble, but he has a feeling nothing he says from now on will make any sense, and he needs you to want it as much as he does.

His hands slide up your thighs to your waist, and when he tugs you closer to notch at your entrance, he can feel you clenching wetly around him.

"Shit—," he breathes out, his biceps tensing as he lifts you and lines himself up. He pushes in just enough for you to stretch around the tip, and you steady yourself on his chest, your palms searingly hot on his skin as you squeeze him a little harder.

"Let me make you feel good," he says again, even though you're already letting him, already yielding to his steady push and pull. Every inch he gives you feels like taking a shot of tequila, and it's making his head spin. If he could hear himself anymore, he'd realize he sounds wasted.

"Let me fill you up, please," he begs, rolling his hips up to lengthen his thrusts. They’re so much easier now that you’re dribbling down him—so much wetter—but you're so damn tight, he has to force himself to look away from where you're joined and gripping the hell out of him. "You know, I-I waited for you—waited to cum, I didn't cum at all."

"Mike...fuck. That's good. That's so good, baby," you tell him shakily. "Give it to me. Nice and deep, you deserve it."

He keens at the praise—he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried—and your nails bite into his skin in response, nose scrunching adorably as you gush around him. He knew you'd like that. He knew you'd want it. 

Look at his girl, so pretty on top of him, just waiting for him to bust inside you. Fleetingly, he wonders if you're still on birth control. Possessively, he doesn't care. Rationally, he knows he can't afford to knock you up, but shit—right now, he really fucking wants to. He imagines you in the same position you're in, horny and round with his baby, and suddenly he's never wanted anything so badly in his life.

He doesn't stop to think about whether or not he should. He doesn't stop at all, just like he warned you, not even when he's buried to the hilt and you're both struggling to adjust. 

He just buries himself in you again and again and again until the sound of your skin colliding with his becomes a wet thock-thock-thock that bounces off the walls of his bedroom. The springs beneath him squeak dangerously as he pushes his bedframe to its absolute limits, but he can’t hear any of that, either.

His senses are in overdrive, and all he can focus on is how you feel around him. And he’s not nearly as deep as he needs to be. Rougher than he means to, he grabs your ass with both hands and starts to force you up and down his cock, gripping hard enough to bruise. He’ll hate how much he likes the idea of that later. 

"S-so fucking pretty...gonna make me cum so hard. So much. Need you to take all of it," he pants with the exertion of lifting and dropping your full weight onto himself.

He can feel himself slamming into your cervix and desperately tries to think about anything else but emptying right into it, but the sight of you taking him like you were made for it makes it ten times worse.

Just looking at you makes him want to cum—your tits bouncing as you ride him, your pussy creaming down his cock and balls, and seeping into his sheets. Those pouty lips of yours moaning around pleas of harder and right there and don't stop, I'm cumming.

"Baby...babe—," your shattered voice cuts through the fog, and then he feels it. "M'cumming. I'm...Mike, keep going there, there. Don't stop, please don't stop."

Fucking hell, you're really cumming. Tight and wet, and clamping down on him like a vice. Somehow, he always forgets it's like this with you. That you cum this hard for him, that he's able to make you cum this hard for him. For a second, he feels overwhelmingly grateful. Then, he's planting his feet on the bed and fucking you so hard, you stop moaning and start screaming.

It's there. It's right there, so close he can feel it building everywhere. Sweat trickles down his temples, matting his curls to his forehead, and you brush them away, one hand braced on the mattress next to his head and the other buried in his hair as you ride out your high.  

His balls draw up so tight, it's painful, and he thinks he might start yelling too, but he's too focused on the chase. He's too busy watching, dumbfounded by the perfect body coming apart on top of him. 

The girl he waited for. 

He tries to tell you. He tries to open his mouth and tell you that you’re everything he thought he’d never have, and that he wants to keep you forever. That he wants to be part of you, that being inside you is one of the rare places he’s ever felt wanted. But that’s not what comes out. 

He’s too far gone now, and all he can manage is an incomprehensible stream of moans and sighs as he forces you flush against his pelvis, grinding into you as deep as he can reach. His eyes struggle not to close, nearly crossing as that familiar heat permeates his limbs and pools at the base of his cock. But it’s so much more intense than he can ever remember it being.

He lifts his gaze to your lips to find them moving, repeatedly forming a single word he can barely make out. But by the time he figures it out, he’s already giving you what you asked for. 

Please. You’re saying please. He repeats it back, begging you to take it, thanking you for letting him have this.

His orgasm rocks him. As it peaks, he feels numb like he’s suspended in time, and then it slams into him so hard, he folds in on himself. He buries his face in your tits, his breath hitching sharply in time with the visible throbbing of his cock, and he’s immediately flooded with relief. But it won’t fucking stop. It lasts so much longer than either of you expect it to, pulse after endless pulse, and he holds you in place through it all.

When it finally subsides and sensitivity sets in, your nails scratching lightly across his back are what bring him back to the present. He lifts his head from where it's still pillowed on your tits, and you lean down to kiss his forehead.

Maybe he’s imagining it, or maybe he’s just been dreaming this entire time, but he swears you’re glowing. The final rays of late summer sun illuminate your dewy skin and soft curves, and as you move lower to kiss his lips, he unconsciously rests a hand over your stomach. It feels right—but only briefly. His head starts to clear the longer he licks into your mouth, and when you part, reality finally hits.

"Shit, I think I just got you pregnant," he breathes out, sliding his hand off your stomach to your waist before collapsing onto the mattress. "Shit."

He looks up at you in concern, his mind racing a mile a minute. What did he just do? He can’t—you can't get pregnant. Not with Abby, and your jobs, and his shitty finances. It just isn't an option. 

And yet you’re still perched on top of him, snug around his softening dick, and he can’t bring himself to pull out. You don’t even seem remotely worried.

You're actually smiling. No, you're laughing, and he's still panicking and confused as hell. It gets infinitely worse when you accidentally push him out and his gut reaction is to plug you back up with his fingers, keeping his release from leaking out. This is so fucked up. He’s so fucked up.

"I mean—were you trying to?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Kinda seems like it."

Your eyes drop between your legs to where his hand is cupping your heat, irrefutable proof that you’re not wrong. So, why doesn’t that bother you? 

"Babe, breathe," you smile softly, brushing a few stray hairs from his face. "I'm like, 98.8 percent positive you can't knock me up. Give or take, but we can check the box if it'll make you feel better."

It actually might, but the last thing he's going to do is admit it. He can't believe he didn't double-check something like that—but then again, he feels like he's been in a fugue state for hours, if not the entire week you were gone.

"You're still on birth control?" he asks cautiously, almost afraid to get his hopes up. He takes a deep breath like you told him to and it helps ease some of his lingering panic. Not all of it, but at least he's starting to think rationally and not with his dick.

"Mike. There isn't a single condom in this entire house. Yes, I'm on birth control," you laugh again, and even just the sound of it is soothing. It helps, too.

"And it definitely works? Because that was...a lot," he mumbles. He already knows he sounds like a total idiot, but he has to be sure. There's still a week's worth of his release plugged up inside you, and as much as it turns him on, he needs to know if he has to run out to the pharmacy or if he's free to do it again. And again.

"Have you ever fucked me with a condom on?" you counter. He scoffs at the question, and you clench around his fingers in retaliation.

"Of course, I have. Maybe not in a while, but early on, for sure," he replies confidently, even though he's not confident in his answer at all. Sure, he can't give you a specific example, but that doesn't mean it never happened.

"You literally came inside me the day we met," you deadpan. 

His cock stirs at the memory, hardening distractingly against your inner thigh. That, he definitely remembers. He's pretty sure that's the night he fell in love with you, but he's hard-pressed to admit that, either.

"There's no way."

"And every time since then," you continue, looking way too amused at his misfortune. Can't get anything past you, can he?

Okay, so maybe it wasn't just your trip that triggered what happened tonight. Maybe it's always been a thing. His thing. You just look so goddamn good—filled with it, covered in it. Shit, he really shouldn't be hard already.

"Babe, come on. I do...it other places, too,” he reasons, sliding his hand up to tweak a nipple. But it becomes a moot point the second your breath hitches. So much for rational thinking. “I just—"

"You just really like cumming inside me," you finish for him, taking his cock in your hand and stroking him until he's as desperate as he was earlier.

He pulls his fingers free from your pussy and tries not to lament the immediate rush of cum that leaks out. It's okay. He's got plenty more to give you.

"Yeah, I really do."

thanks for reading!

(and so much love to @joelsgreys, @tinycozycomfort & @psychedelic-ink for your help & support, and for listening to me go on and on about this man <3)

[jjkilll]

-——-— ✫ FALSE GOD | JJK ✫ —-———-

— pairing | bestfriend/fuckbuddy jk x y/n

— summary | After a date, a very jealous Jungkook wants to remind you that there is no love like his.

—  warning | smut, oral sex (f receiving), squirting (eeeekkkk)

— word count | 1.7K

— song | False God - Taylor Swift

You shuffle into your shared apartment, shedding yourself your coat and shoes. Jungkook sat on the couch watching a movie, his arms folded.

You and Jungkook started fucking around after one night of drunken sex. When you needed him he came running. No distance or circumstance could stop him from getting to you. When you landed on the friends-with-benefits thing, Jungkook stopped bringing girls home. He was usually the type to bring a girl home whenever he went out with his friends, but it's been a ghost town since. You figured it was just out of respect for your newfound relationship. You never got jealous... well you never got jealous and showed it. Jungkook went on plenty of dates, you were afraid just a little bit. What if this date went so well, that he forgot all about you. It wouldn’t be just the sex you'd miss, It'd be the fact that, whenever you called the chances of him dropping everything to get to you would drop to zero. You loved him; he was your best friend and you'd do anything to ensure he'd stay.

But, when Jungkook reached his fourth date with Miyeon, you figured it was time to start dating around too. You and Jungkook weren't dating, that's something often had to remind yourself. Yeah, you slept together, a lot, but he wasn't your boyfriend. Just your best friend with whom you had casual sex with.

Mingyu was a friend of Jungkook's, he was nice and funny and had always taken an interest in you. So when he asked you to grab dinner, you figured it wouldn't be a big deal.

"How was it?" Jungkook asked arms still folded, his eyes never leaving the screen. He tried to not make it obvious when he was jealous but it never worked. You always saw right through him. He was pissed, maybe because it was Mingyu, or maybe it was the thought that he had to share you. You weren't sure, but you weren't going to ask.

"Great actually. We went to that fancy Italian place downtown." You explain. Truly the date went well, Mingyu was chatting you up and making you laugh. He talked about his job and asked about yours. He asked how you met Jungkook and you explained that you two had been friends since your junior year of high school. After talking about Jungkook, he never left your mind. You found your mind drifting wondering if he might've been bored at home without you, or even worse fucking Miyeon. You were snapped back into reality when Mingyu complimented you. You felt bad, a hot guy was sitting right in front of you and all you could think about was if your best friend was fucking someone else.

He hums, "Good," was all he said. Man, he sucked at hiding his jealousy. You flopped down beside him. "You look pretty." He said glancing over at you. He always thought you were beautiful, regardless of the circumstance. You could've just rolled out of bed hung over and he'd still think you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. "Thank you." You replied sweetly. "Did he tell you?" He asked sighing. "Tell me what?" You asked curiously. "That you look pretty." He responded, arms still crossed eyes locked on the screen. He wasn't even paying attention the the film, quite frankly he wasn't even interested. He only turned in on and skipped through once he realized you were on your way home. He had been sitting in silence waiting on you anxiously. Hoping and Praying Mingyu wouldn't follow behind. He had the biggest sigh of relief when it was just you.

"Yeah, he said it a lot actually. I felt like I wasn't complimenting him enough," you chuckle. "So, are you going to go out with him again?" He asked this time turning his head to look at you. You had been looking at him the whole time, watching him struggle to control his face when you even mentioned Mingyu. "Uh, he didn't ask me out again, at least not in person but I'm hoping he'll text me." He scoffed.

"What?" You asked, you knew what was wrong, you just wanted to hear him say it. "Nothing." He said not wanting to start anything. He knew that you weren't his girlfriend. "Jungkook, don't lie to me please." He huffed. "It's just... Why him?" You're taken aback, he's really mad. The thought of Mingyu touching you the way he touched you made him want to wring his neck.

"He's nice and sweet, you know this." You respond simply. "So am I." He mutters under his breath. "What?" you asked playing dumb. You heard him, you needed to know if he wants you as bad as you want him. "I said, so am I. What makes me different than him." He looks you in the eyes, no trace of a joke. "You're dating Miyeon, I don't see why me dating Mingyu is such a big deal." You say confused. He chose to go out with her, why does it matter if you do it.

He pauses the movie before he continues, "I only went out with her so I could stop thinking about you! You fucking consume my thoughts! Every time you're not around me I wonder what you're doing, who you're talking to, what you ate, who's looking at you... who's touching you. I shouldn't feel that way about you but I do. So yeah, you fucking one of my friends doesn't excite me. I'm sorry," He says angrily. He's now looking away from you. His hands balled into a fist. You're sure if Mingyu was here, he'd probably deck him in the face. You don't like how angry is he, his neck is turning red and his ears might as have had steam blowing out of them. "I'm glad you had fun, I just wish that it was with me." He breathes out.

You lift your hand to his chin and turn his face to you. His eyes are dark but soften when they meet yours. He examines your face, you're not upset with him and he was relieved. "Tell me what you really need to stay, baby." You say softly. He sighs, his neck cooling down and he takes a deep breath before speaking, "I like you y/n. I have since the day we met, and I was fine with being your friend because I'd rather have some of you than none. I can't sit back and watch you fall for someone else. That shit might kill me. That shit will kill me." He spoke, his eyes locked in yours.

You lean in, "I'd rather die than live without you," you whisper. "So have me. All of me, because I want all of you." His lips crash onto yours, and he kisses you like you are going to disappear into thin air.

He kisses you and you fall back onto the couch. You're so small under him. Sometimes he'd be afraid that he might break you. Your kisses were so messy and deep, that your hips bucked up grinding against him. He moans into your mouth. He breaks the kiss, kissing your neck. He grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head then kisses down your tummy. His soft lips against your skin made you lose it. He unbuttoned your pants slipping his hand in rubbing circles on your clit. You moan and he silences you with a kiss. You grab his face with both of his hands. He plunges to fingers into your dripping cunt. You gasp against his lip letting his fingers stretch you out. "Fuck Jungkook please." You moan against his lips. "Tell me what you need baby." He says kissing your neck again, still fucking you with his long fingers. "Your mouth, please I need your mouth, Kook." You feel him grin against the softest part of your neck.

He sits up yanking your pants off of you. "These panties are so cute." He snaps the band against your skin making you whine. "Oh, I know baby. How bad do you need me?" He asks teasing you playfully. "Please Kook, I need you so badly, I need your tongue on me. Please please I'll do anything." He loved to hear you beg for him. He pulls your panties off of you and settles between your thighs. He lifts your legs over your shoulders and kisses the inside of your thighs. "You smell so good, baby. I know you taste even better." He speaks before licking a long stripe up your folds. You moan pornographically. His tongue swirls around your clit driving you batshit crazy.

Jungkook's tongue was crazy, you thank every girl before you for teaching him all he knows because you've never had head like his. His fingers enter you once again, the sensation of his tongue and fingers has you about to fall apart. "Y-yes oh my fucking god, keep doing that." He hums against you. You run your hands through his hair. Your eyes roll back and before you know it you're coming and shaking. You struggle to keep your legs open but Jungkook holds you still. He continues fucking into you and quickens his pace curling his fingers.

You've barely had time to recoup before you feel like you're coming again. "Jungkook please fuck. I can't- I-" You struggle to breathe before your vision goes blurry and you're coming again. You squirt all over his face and fingers. He pulls his fingers out of you and sits back up kissing you. He slaps your pussy and you moan into the kiss. "Shit, that was so hot, I didn't know you could squirt." He chuckles. "Fuck me neither." He pecks your lips once more before sitting up completely. "Let's go get you in the shower baby." He lends you his hand helping you stand. "Wait, Jungkook you didn't come." His eyes widen a little. "Oh uhh" He looks away nervously. "I- I did." He sniffs and looks back at you. He looks down at his sweats noticing a wet spot. "That's so hot." You pull him closer. "It's a little embarrassing."

"You came in your pants just from eating me out. That's really fucking hot Jungkook. I turn you on that much huh?" You tease. "Stop coming in my pants twice is crazy." You laugh as he softly pushes you away. "Then how about... In the shower, you come in me." You say with a playful smile biting your lip teasingly. "Don't threaten me with a good time, baby." He lifts you carrying you to the bathroom.

Finally, you got him after pinning over him for so long. Jungkook is finally yours, and you are his.

✫ -----------------------✫

a/n: Something a little fun, I love this song and had the idea of doing something with Taylor's music like I did with Mac. Thank you for reading if you did. If you like please like and repost :D thanks for the support. feedback and requests are appreciated just inbox me.

[smallgodseries]

It seems to be a season for discussing the ascended divine, those who were not gods but have had godhood thrust upon them.  Many are dismayed to realize that they have been pressed flat and reduced to a single aspect of their personality.  Perhaps large gods, gods of cosmic force and creation, can afford to be complicated, but small gods are like garlic presses.  They have been designed by the cosmos to serve a single purpose, and while they might fill that purpose very, very well, they can and will do little else.

Others are delighted.  And those who ascend while still among the living, who get to reap the benefits of both complexity and simplicity at the same time…those gods tend to be the most delighted of all.

Enter Uncle George, who is new to the pantheon, but has never been more needed.  He is an icon and an idea, and if it concerns him at times that he is also a living man, whose choices and actions in the world might impact his believers, he sets that concern aside in favor of admiring the beauty and bravery of his faithful.

He is with the frightened teen considering asking their crush to a school dance without knowing what the answer—or the consequences—might be.  He is with the suburban homemaker using mascara to create a five o’clock shadow that finally makes their reflection feel like an accurate representation of the self.  He is with the young and he is with the old and he is with the lonely and he is with the lost, and he is with everyone who needs him to whisper admiring words and grant them the bravery to be themselves in a world that seems so often intent on destroying anything it doesn’t understand.

He is not the living man, for all that they share a face, and the living man has depths that he will never know.  And honestly, he doesn’t mind.

Uncle George is happy as he is.  He only hopes and prays that everyone else can one day be the same.

[swmzq]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄!

pairing:taylor swift X fem!singer!reader

authors note:Based on good luck, babe! By chappell roan cause I’ve been absolutely obsessed with her lately! A little bit of Austin butler x reader

warnings:smut, mdni, fingering, rushed lol, reader getting jealous of Travis and taylor (no hate to Travis I love him)

dividers: @tattooedeverything

masterlist

I sighed tossing my phone to the other side of the bed. My gaze fixed on the ceiling, it’s clear that keeping things hidden with Taylor was probably for the best, but it wasn’t what I wanted. But how exactly do I label it now?

Friends with benefits? Just casually messing around? Fuck buddies?

I honestly couldn’t define it myself; it’s complicated, because I’m certain friends don’t sneak out of parties or fancy dinners to pleasure each other.

Taylor always said that we’re nothing but two really close friends in Interviews even though she knows the truth. It only made me feel like the fool here, thinking that it’d ever work between us.

My train of thoughts got abruptly interrupted by a soft knock on the door, prompting me to groan and get up from my cozy spot on the bed.

I sigh walking over to the door swinging the door open revealing Taylor standing there with a bright smile on her face

“Hello, Taylor. What brings you here?”

Taylor groans tilting her head back. “Long rehearsals for the upcoming tour, and I realized I’d be bored if I just came home to the cats even though i love them more than anything. Then i figured that I’d come over cause my dearest friend is sick and would probably like some tea and chai sugar cookies. So here i am!”

Gosh I fucking hated it every time she called me her friend, I love her as my friend but she knows deep inside as much as I do that we’re more than just friends. Friends don’t kiss each other or touch each other when nobody’s watching.

I quickly masked my thoughts with a bright grin. “God, what would I ever do without my best friend and her amazing chai sugar cookies,” I exclaimed dramatically.

Taylor playfully roll her eyes in response. "But seriously, are you feeling better today?" She asks, concern evident in her voice.

I give her a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I promise I'm feeling much better, especially with you here," I reply warmly.

I welcome Taylor inside, the warmth of her presence filling the room and easing the lingering discomfort of my illness. With a soft smile I gesture for her to make herself at home.

After some time I find myself sitting on the counter, idly swinging my legs as Taylor stands nearby, leaning against the opposite counter. The comfortable silence between us speaks volumes.

As our eyes meet, a silent understanding passes between us, unspoken words dancing in the air. In that moment, it feels like we share a secret language.

I feel a rush of heat as my gaze drops down to Taylor's soft, inviting lips, my heart quickening at the sudden surge of desire that courses through me. In that fleeting moment, the air between us crackles with a newfound tension, a palpable awareness of the unspoken desires that linger just beneath the surface.

As Taylor pushes herself off the counter, a sense of anticipation builds within me, my heart beating faster as she makes her way over to where I'm seated. The air seems charged with an unspoken energy, a magnetic pull drawing us closer together.

I feel a shiver run down my spine as Taylor's hand gently rests on my thigh, the closeness between us electrifying. Our noses almost touching, I can feel the warmth of her breath against my skin, her words sending a rush of emotions through me.

“I've missed you, more than I should” she whisper meeting my gaze with a mix of longing and affection.

“Taylor,” I whisper, the name falling from my lips like a reverent prayer, the urge to bridge the remaining distance between us almost overwhelming. Leaning my head forward, I inch closer, the magnetic pull between us drawing us into a moment fraught with unspoken desires and untapped longing.

I feel a surge of electricity shoot through me as Taylor's hand delicately tucks a strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek, gently urging me closer.

As the gap between us closes, a surge of desire courses through me, and I press my lips against Taylor's soft ones in a tender yet passionate kiss. The world falls away, leaving only the sensation of her warmth against my skin and the intoxicating thrill of our forbidden embrace.

I let out a moan into the kiss my body responding to Taylor's touch as her hand grips my ass, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. The intensity of the moment heightens, the boundaries between us blurring as desire takes hold.

My breath hitches as Taylor pulls away, her fingers deftly unbuttoning my silky pajama shirt. “So pretty,” she whispers, her voice filled with admiration as she slides the shirt off my shoulders, revealing my bare breasts to her hungry gaze.

I gasp in pleasure as Taylor's lips close around one of my nipples, her tongue swirling deliciously around it, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through me. The sensation of her warm mouth on my sensitive flesh heightens my arousal, and I arch my back, offering myself to her touch. The intimate connection between us deepens as she lavishes attention on my breasts, each touch and kiss stoking the flames of desire within me.

Taylor's kisses trail down my stomach, each touch sending a shiver of anticipation through me as she stops right at the edge of my silky pajama shorts. The air is heavy with desire, the tension between us palpable as we teeter on the brink of a newfound intimacy.

“You want this, baby?” Taylor looks up at me, her gaze filled with a playful yet seductive glint, teasingly playing with the band of my silk pajama shorts.

I nod eagerly, my breath coming in short gasps as I meet Taylor's gaze with a mix of desire and longing. The question hangs in the air between us, charged with unspoken anticipation and need. With a silent plea in my eyes, I offer myself to her, my body aching for her touch as she plays with the band of my pajama shorts, each moment drawing us closer to the edge of forbidden pleasure.

I feel a rush of heat as Taylor slowly slides off my pajama shorts, revealing my light pink underwear. “So pretty,” she whispers, her voice filled with admiration and desire as she gazes at me.

I gasp as Taylor slowly pulls off my light pink panties, her touch sending a jolt of pleasure through me. With a gentle yet firm grip, she pulls my thighs further apart, increasing the intensity of our intimate moment. The air crackles with anticipation as we both succumb to the raw desire between us.

Taylor kisses sloppily down my stomach, each touch sending a wave of pleasure through me. The sensation of her lips on my skin ignites a fire within me, heightening the intimacy of the moment as we both surrender to the raw passion between us.

I moan out in a mix of pleasure and desire, unable to contain the raw intensity of the moment. “I need you” I breathe out, my voice laced with need and longing as the passion between us reaches a fever pitch.

Taylor’s kisses went down to my abdomen and closer to my heat I gasp in shock and pleasure as her tongue swirls around my clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. The exquisite sensation of her touch leaves me trembling with desire, lost in the intoxicating pleasure of the moment.

My hand grip onto the counter, crying out Taylor's name as she inserts a finger, the sensation sending me over the edge as pleasure washes over me in waves. Lost in the throes of ecstasy, I surrender to the intense intimacy between us, the connection deepening with each electrifying touch.

I let out a breathless moan as Taylor teases, her words sending a jolt of pleasure through me. “Yeah, feels good baby?” she teases, adding another finger and intensifying the sensation, pushing me closer to the edge of ecstasy. The raw desire between us fuels the intensity of the moment, drawing us deeper into the throes of passion.

“You like that ?” Taylor's voice is husky with desire, her words a seductive whisper that sends a shiver of pleasure down my spine. “I want to make you feel so good,” she murmurs, her fingers working their magic as she drives me to the brink of ecstasy.

Her fingers slipped in and out of me so fast I was scared she was gonna break her fingers.

Taylor locks eyes with me, a look of intense desire and passion reflected in her gaze. “Let go, baby,” she whispers, her voice laced with need. “I want to feel you come apart in my arms.” Her fingers continue their relentless rhythm, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.

The familiar knot in my stomach tightens, a wave of pleasure building within me as I curl my toes, the sensations overwhelming my senses. Every touch, every movement from Taylor sends me spiraling closer to the edge, my body teetering on the brink of release. The tension in the room is palpable, the air heavy with desire as I surrender to the impending waves of ecstasy.

“I can feel you getting closer, baby,” Taylor's voice is a low, sultry whisper, her gaze locked with mine as she drives me towards the peak of pleasure. “Just let go and come for me,” she urges, her fingers working their magic to push me over the edge into a blissful release.

With a gasp of pleasure, I cry out, “oh fuck yes,” the words escaping in a breathless whisper as the intense waves of ecstasy crash over me, leaving me trembling in the aftermath of my release. Taylor's touch lingers, prolonging the pleasure as I ride the waves of my climax, lost in the raw intensity of our shared desire.

Taylor leans in and gives me a gentle peck on the lips, her touch soft and tender, a silent reassurance of the intimacy we shared. The gesture speaks volumes, conveying a sense of closeness and affection that lingers in the air between us. The moment is filled with a quiet understanding and a bond that transcends words, deepening the connection between Taylor and me.

“You are amazing,” Taylor says, her voice filled with a mix of tenderness and desire.

I smile, my heart still pounding with the intensity of our encounter. “You always know how to drive me wild,” I reply, my voice filled with gratitude and affection.

Taylor's gaze meets mine, a spark of connection passing between us. “I just want to make you feel good,” she whispers, her eyes full of warmth and sincerity.

My hand reached out, intertwining our fingers. “You always do,” I say softly, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me.

I hum along to the song playing in the background, the upbeat rhythm filling the bathroom as I apply the finishing touch of lip gloss. Taylor stands beside me, swaying her hips slightly to the beat as she applies mascara, a grin playing on her lips.

"So remind me again, what is this club we're going to?" I raise my eyebrows at Taylor, curious about our destination.

She shrugs, her grin widening. "All I know is that it's in Kansas City and has good drinks."

I chuckle and shake my head. "As long as I come out alive," I tease, the anticipation of the night ahead filling me with excitement.

We decide to take some pictures together in the hotel room, striking poses and capturing moments of laughter and camaraderie. Taylor and I playfully pose for the camera, our smiles genuine and our bond evident in each shot. We choose the best photos to post on our Instagram, sharing the memories of our night out in Kansas City with our friends.

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liked by taylorswift,blakelively and 973 816 others

yourusername do you guys feel …ready for it?

Taylorswift oh yes I do in fact feel ready for tonight ➥yourusername of course you do😉

swiftie4ever NO CAUSE I DONT CARE ANYMORE IM CLOWNING SO HARD NOW

User818181 excuse me miss Y/N Y/L/N what do you mean with …ready for it?

y/nlvrrrr okay so WHAT IF y/n and Taylor will have a collab on rep tv?

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As we step into the party, the energy is palpable, the room buzzing with excitement and chatter. The space is packed with celebrities, their presence adding an air of glamour and sophistication to the event. Taylor and I exchange glances, a mix of awe and thrill reflected in our eyes as we take in the scene before us.

I take a deep breath, feeling a surge of anticipation as I clutch onto Taylor's hand, drawing comfort and strength from her presence. Together, we step inside the party, the sounds of laughter and music enveloping us as we navigate through the crowd of celebrities. With Taylor by my side, I feel a sense of confidence and excitement, ready to immerse myself in the night's festivities.

Taylor drags me over to the bar and orders our drinks, the vibrant atmosphere of the party surrounds us. The pulsating music and lively conversations create an electric energy that fills the air.

“Hey, Taylor, I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick!” I shout over the loud music, the excitement of the night fueling my movements as I weave through the crowd towards the restroom. As I make my way through the bustling party, I catch glimpses of familiar faces and the glimmer of flashing cameras, adding to the allure of the glamorous event.

I step into the bathroom, the sounds of the party muffled by the closed door, I take a moment to touch up my makeup. I carefully apply my lip liner, ensuring my lips look just right, before adding a touch of lip gloss for a hint of shine. I glance at myself in the mirror, adjusting my hair and smoothing out my dress, taking a deep breath to steady myself before heading back out into the vibrant chaos of the party.

My mind couldn’t help but wander to what me and taylor was, cause one second we’re fucking each other but after that we act like lovers. But out in public we were only best friends, every time we went out to parties it always ended up with Taylor kissing her hundred boys in bars and brings them home. She always said that it was just the way she was, another stupid excuse.

It’s not fair, I’m the one who should be kissing her. I should be the one who’s on the news with her.

I sighed getting out of the bathroom walking over to were taylor sat. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes at the man sitting beside her, the one and only Travis kelce.

The way his hand rested on her knee made me wanna throw up. Of course the famous American-footballer decided to hit on her especially after all these news about him attending one of her shows with a bracelet with his number on. The thought of it made me wanna stab myself in my eyes.

Taylor locked eyes with me in the crowd waving me over with a smile plastered on her face. I pinched myself making my way over to them with a fake smile.

“Y/N! There you are,” Taylor exclaims. “This is Travis! Travis, this is Y/N, my dearest friend,” she introduces us with a warm smile.

I take a deep breath and compose myself, extending my hand to shake Travis's.

“Hi Travis, lovely to meet you,” I say with a bright smile, my tone warm and friendly despite the underlying tension I feel. Deep down, a pang of jealousy flickers within me as I notice Travis's hand resting on Taylor's knee, but I push the feeling aside, focusing on maintaining a pleasant demeanor in this social setting.

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N,” Travis replies with a slight nod, his gaze meeting mine with a polite smile. Despite the subtle tension in the air, his response is cordial and respectful, easing the atmosphere slightly as we exchange pleasantries in the midst of the bustling party.

“Travis in fact actually came to one of my shows here, i can’t believe i never got the bracelet!” Taylor chimes in happily, I try my hardest not to roll my eyes.

“Oh yeah! I think I heard something about it!” I reply but I heard it everywhere I went. The crush Travis had on taylor was talked about over the whole internet, it made me wanna shoot myself over and over again.

”You and Y/N has been friends for a while now right?” Travis asks out of curiosity looking at us sipping from his drink.

“Oh um, we met during the music awards in 2018 i think” I reply with a nostalgic smile, the memories of the American Music Awards 2018 flooding back vividly. Taylor in her stunning mirror ball dress and matching heels, radiating confidence and grace, while I stood beside her in my light pink dress, feeling like a part of something magical.

Travis clears his throat, his gaze fixed on Taylor as he speaks. “So i thought that I’ll come next show to and maybe this time I can get backstage.“ he says, a hint of flirtation in his voice as he winks at Taylor, causing a faint blush to color her cheeks. I bite down on my tongue, stopping myself from saying something stupid.

With a forced smile on my face, I rise from my seat, a sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach. “Well, I'll leave you two,” I say, my tone polite but tinged with a hint of underlying tension.

As I push past the crowded bodies with a drink in hand, the room swirling with music and laughter, I accidentally bump into someone, the cold liquid from my drink splashing onto my body.

“Watch where you're fucking going,” I snap, annoyed at the sudden collision, before looking up to see the one and only Austin Butler. “Oh, I'm so sorry, here, um, let me help you,” he immediately apologizes, his tone sincere and apologetic.

“No, no, I'm sorry for being rude,” I quickly respond, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over me at my initial outburst. I appreciate his understanding and kindness in the situation, grateful for his quick response to diffuse the tension between us.

He chuckles and asks, “Rough day?” I offer a soft smile and nod in response, a hint of weariness in my eyes. “If only you knew,” I reply.

"Well, I gotta go to the restroom to clean this off," I say, looking down at my half-soaked dress, feeling a mix of frustration and discomfort.

“Want me to come with you?” Austin asks, his offer of assistance genuine and kind. I pause for a moment, considering his offer before nodding in gratitude. “Yes, that would be great, thank you,” I reply, appreciating his thoughtfulness in the midst of the chaotic party scene.

As I lock the door behind us, the sounds of the party muffled by the closed door, Austin approaches me with tissues in hand. “Here, let me help you,” he offers, his voice calm and reassuring. I feel a sense of gratitude for his kindness and assistance, allowing myself to relax for a moment in his presence as he helps me clean up the spilled drink from my dress.

“Can't wait for your upcoming album, your latest one was amazing. My favorite is probably 'Casual',” Austin says, his eyes lighting up with genuine enthusiasm as he starts to hum the lyrics to the song, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His appreciation for my music brings a sense of joy and validation, and I can't help but laugh quietly at his lighthearted gesture, grateful for the unexpected moment of connection over our shared love of music.

“Are you planning to start touring again?” Austin asks, his expression curious and interested as he inquires about my future plans in the music industry. His question sparks a flicker of anticipation within me, reminding me of the excitement and energy that comes with performing live for my fans.

“Yeah, I'm planning to announce it sometime after the whole album has been released. There's just this one song left that I need to finish,” I explain, a sense of anticipation and determination evident in my voice.

“Well, what about you? Do you have any upcoming movies? 'Dune' was amazing,” I say, shifting the conversation towards Austin and his impressive work in the film industry.

Austin shrugs nonchalantly, a playful glint in his eyes. “Can't tell you my secrets, can I?” he teases, winking mischievously as he hints at upcoming projects that he's keeping under wraps.

I playfully roll my eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips as I tilt my head, savoring the comfortable silence that settles between us.

“Did you come here alone tonight?” Austin asked, his tone casual yet curious as he sought to learn more about my presence at the event.

I shake my head, a hint of disappointment flickering in my eyes. “No, I came with Taylor, like in Taylor Swift, but she's been occupied with this Travis guy,” I explain, a touch of wistfulness coloring my tone.

“You guys seem pretty close, right?” Austin inquired, his tone gentle and observant as he picked up on the dynamics between Taylor and me. But oh boy if he only knew, I thought to myself.

“Yeah, we really are,” I respond with a fond smile, reflecting on the strong connection and camaraderie that Taylor and I share.

Austin's voice is tinged with a hint of curiosity as he asks, “Are you planning on heading home alone?” His question hangs in the air, but not in a creepy way.

I grin and reply, “Well, I don't know. Taylor's probably taken off with that Travis guy, and my hotel is just a fifteen-minute drive away.” The uncertainty of the night's plans adds a sense of spontaneity and adventure to the situation, leaving room for unexpected twists and turns as the evening unfolds.

“Well, my hotel is just five minutes away, and I could honestly use some company,” Austin says, his tone warm and inviting.

Well the next morning I found myself waking up in Austin's bed, dressed only in a pair of panties. The faint morning light filtering through the curtains painted a soft glow over the room, casting a dream-like quality over the scene as I processed the implications of our intimate encounter.

As the weeks passed by, Austin and I maintained a close friendship, the memory of that unexpected night adding a layer of complexity and unspoken understanding to our dynamic.

I was currently sitting in the sofa with Taylor watching some tv show on a random channel.

I shift on the sofa, feeling Taylor's curious gaze on me as we watch a random movie together. Suddenly, she turns to me, her eyes filled with playful curiosity. “So, how's it going with Austin? He's the one you left with at the party, right?” Taylor's question hangs in the air, laced with a hint of mischief and genuine interest in my connection with Austin after that memorable night.

I shrug in response to Taylor's question, a casual smile playing on my lips. “Just friends,” I reply, keeping my tone light and nonchalant.

“What about you and Travis?” I counter, turning the question back to her with a teasing glint in my eyes.

Taylor blushed slightly “I really like him, he’s the sweetest.”

I offer Taylor a supportive smile, masking the pang of jealousy that tugs at my heart. "I'm glad to hear that. Travis does seem like a great guy," I reply, my words genuine despite the internal turmoil. Keeping up the facade of happiness for my friend's sake, I push aside my own feelings to focus on being there for Taylor in that moment.

As Taylor continues to gush about Travis, I listen attentively, nodding along and offering encouraging words as she shares her feelings knowing deep inside that I just wanted to stab myself over and over again.

As months passed by and my album was released, with a tour on the horizon, Taylor and Travis grew closer each day. Despite their budding relationship, the undeniable chemistry between Taylor and me continued to simmer beneath the surface, leading to moments of passion and intimacy shared in secret. The tangled web of emotions and desires added a layer of complexity to our friendship, creating a delicate balance between loyalty, love, and hidden desires.

Taylor and I stood in the bathroom of the vmas, touching up our makeup, the buzz of excitement and anticipation filled the air. The soft glow of the vanity lights illuminated our faces as we exchanged small talk, the hum of chatter and music from the event drifting in from outside. The camaraderie between us was palpable, a silent understanding woven into the shared moments of preparation before the glitz and glamour of the evening.

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage before turning to Taylor, the weight of my words heavy in the air between us. “Taylor, I think I'm gonna call it off. It feels... stupid, hiding what we have when you have Travis,” I confess, the honesty in my voice tinged with a mix of relief and apprehension. The realization of the need for honesty and authenticity in our relationships hangs between us, setting the stage for a moment of truth and vulnerability.

Taylor's voice carries a mix of confusion and concern as she looks at me, searching for answers in my eyes. “C'mon, Y/N, what's going on?” she prompts, her words pushing me to open up and share the thoughts and emotions that have been weighing on my mind.

I meet Taylor's gaze, my expression earnest and vulnerable as I lay bare my innermost thoughts. “I just want to love someone who can be seen with me and doesn't give a shit about their reputation,” I confess, the words carrying a mix of longing and determination.

Before either of us could respond, a voice calling our names interrupts our conversation, signaling the imminent start of the award show. We exchange a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between us as we set aside our personal revelations for the time being, focusing on the event at hand. With a shared nod, we gather our composure and make our way back to the main hall, ready to face the glitz and glamour of the evening ahead.

As the award show unfolded and the night came to a close, Taylor and I parted ways, our paths diverging in the whirlwind of the entertainment industry. The bittersweet realization that our time together had come to an end lingered in my heart, a mix of nostalgia and acceptance coloring my thoughts as I reflected on the moments we shared. Despite the uncertainty of the future, the memories of our friendship and the bond we once had remained etched in my mind, it was time to let go.

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