#but probably why I’m sharing my thoughts

[covenofagatha]

Practice makes perfect

Agatha makes you build up your stamina until she actually lets you fuck her

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: g!p reader, virgin!reader, sex, age gap, fleshlight, degradation, humiliation kink, Agatha is MEAN and reader very much gets off on it, premature ejaculation, masturbation, reader is a walking HR violation, cumming in pants

When Agatha Harkness finds out you’re a virgin, she actually laughs. 

You’re a junior in college interning at your dad’s multi-billion dollar company over the summer, a nepo-baby at its finest, and so what if you have the hots for the general counsel? So what if you get hard every single time she even looks in your direction? 

You try to flirt with her, you’re as bold as you can be without her going straight to HR, and yet she barely even gives you the time of day. Deep down, you can tell she likes you though. She humors you and doesn’t tell you to shut up whenever you start to talk, so that must mean something. The two of you have formed quite the relationship since the summer started, with you saying the filthiest things to her and her brushing them off as if they were casual anecdotes. 

“I’d make you feel so good, Agatha,” you tell her one day. “I’ll fill you up so nicely.”

It might be pushing the limits — it’s your third pathetic attempt this day at getting her to reciprocate, but she’s used to it by now; it hardly even fazes her. Everyone in the office knows that their boss’s daughter has a cock, and they also know that their boss’s daughter has a filthy mouth, always saying something vulgar and sarcastic. No one takes anything that comes from your lips as serious. You’ve been called a spoiled, entitled, rich bitch, told that you’re heartless for not giving a damn about anything, expelled from three high schools for the explicit jokes that you make.

But your “jokes” to Agatha are the only thing you’re serious about. 

She scoffs and rolls her eyes; at twenty-five years your senior, she has had plenty of experience with girls that promise her the world and barely deliver on any said promises made. “I’m not some quick college lay that lets you rub my upper thigh and pretends that you’ve found my clit, you know.” 

It’s your turn to scowl. “Who do you think I am?” you ask and she fixes you with a pointed glare from behind her desk. “I know where the clit is.” 

“How many women have you actually satisfied?” she asks and your cheeks heat up. You figured it would come up eventually, but now you don’t actually want to answer. You duck your head and Agatha makes a noise, not exactly surprised, but almost disappointed. “You think I’m going to let a virgin fuck me? You probably wouldn’t even last two seconds inside me.”

“Hey, I’d last longer than that,” you snap, your head shooting back up to look at her incredulously. You can feel a slight stirring in your lower stomach at the thought of blowing your load the instant she gets inside you and how she would most definitely mock you for it. 

Agatha raises an eyebrow and chuckles cruelly. “Honey, please. Go back to your desk and get your work done. I’m definitely not having sex with someone who can’t finish reading over a simple contract.” 

“Ha ha,” you deadpan, and she makes a face at you before you get up out of the chair in front of her desk you were lounging in. “Might have to go to the bathroom real quick and jerk one off though.” 

She crinkles her nose and waves her hand at you dismissively and you think that you’ve just blown all your chances with her. She’s definitely not going to want to fuck you now. There is some speculation floating around about your lack of experience and that’s why you overcompensate with the explicit things you say — libel you tell them, but deep down it’s accurate — and if Agatha, who has certainly had her fair share of partners, knows it’s real, then she for sure won’t waste her time with you. 

So you go back to your desk and begrudgingly get all your work done, emailing Agatha your thoughts about the contracts when you’re all done. She sends back a Very good job, y/n and you hate to admit that it gets you hard. You’d like nothing more than to go fuck yourself in the restroom but you stay at your cubicle until Agatha walks by so you can see her before she leaves for the day. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you call after her as she breezes by your desk without saying a word. It’s the last day of the third fiscal quarter today, and as a reward, tomorrow your dad is bringing his executive staff to your beach house in The Hamptons for a week. Because you’re part of the family, you get to attend, but none of the other interns do. 

It’s been this way since you were little, but only recently did you start to notice how attractive Agatha was. The way she takes absolutely no shit from anyone, even from your dad. The way she coolly holds her ground in the face of IRS audits, FBI raids, and anything else that got thrown at her. The way she raises an eyebrow at you when you say something stupid and it makes your cock hard in seconds. Everything about her drives you fucking wild. 

Agatha lifts a hand up in response, not even bothering to look over her shoulder at you, and your pants tighten almost uncomfortably. 

The second you get back to your apartment, you undo your belt and unzip your pants, reaching inside to take out your hard and leaking cock. Your hips thrust forward at the warmth from your hand and you gasp, the pleasure already dizzying. You think about Agatha on her knees in front of you, looking up at you through her glasses, telling you that you’re just a pathetic slut who will never be able to make her feel good. 

It takes three strokes of your hand before you grunt and your cock pumps out three long spurts of cum all over the kitchen counter. You grab a paper towel, dampen it, and then wipe up your mess before going to take a shower. 

You might have a serious problem. 

And it’s only going to get worse this week. An entire seven days where you’re going to be around her. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’re going to be hard for most of it. Is there a record for the most times a person has cum in a day? Because you think you might break it. 

That night, you have a dream about Agatha, as many of your dreams are. She’s sitting in a chair right by the bed, legs outstretched and open and her feet are resting on the duvet. You’re laying stomach-down, cock hard between your body and the covers, mouth watering. Agatha is completely naked, her cunt glistening, and the dream is so realistic that you can smell her. She laughs when you groan pitifully. 

Then she buries two fingers inside her and your hips lurch against the bed, gasping at the stimulation on your cock. 

“Look at you, humping the bed like a bitch in heat,” she snarls and your rhythm stutters. You garble out something incoherently and she laughs before rubbing her clit with her other hand. “Can’t even fuck me right, so I have to do it myself.” 

You moan loudly, grinding against the bed furiously, and she picks up her thrusts to match your face. “I can, please, I want to,” you beg before she cums all over her fingers. She pulls them out of her and then slides them into your mouth and you cum all over the bed and your stomach. 

When you jerk awake right after that, the first thing you notice is how sticky you are. You must have cum in your underwear from just your dream and it’s just further evidence of how completely fucked you are for the next week. 

There will certainly be no swimming for you because you don’t need the entire executive board and your father knowing that you’re getting hard for the forty-six year old general counsel. 

But fuck, Agatha in a swim suit — 

You cut yourself off from the thought because you don’t have enough time to get worked up again. 

Good thing too, because by the time you do get yourself all cleaned up from your little nighttime accident, you have to leave to get to the helicopters. 

There’s no sign of Agatha yet so you make awkward small talk with Rio Vidal, the head of Human Resources, because you have nothing better to do. She’s new and attractive, but no one gets your cock stirring like Agatha. You wonder if it’s the fact that she’s older and it taps into your mommy issues, or the fact that she can cut you down with a simple sentence and you’ve found that you have a huge thing for degradation, or the fact that she’s never going to let you touch her no matter how hard you beg. 

She drives you crazy and you fucking need her. 

Finally, Agatha pulls up in a company car and gets out, wearing a gray pantsuit, and you already feel your face heating up. She gets into one of the two helicopters without even looking at you and you make a beeline for it before your dad stops you and pulls you into the other one. You can’t exactly tell him that you want to be next to his general counsel, so you grumble to yourself before agreeing. 

It takes only about forty-five minutes to get to the house and the next hour is full of unpacking and the wait staff running around, trying to get everyone everything they need. 

Lunch is served and everyone gathers in the dining room except for Agatha, so you excuse yourself and try to go find her. 

You’re just “happening” to be walking by her room when she opens the door to step out, almost bumping into you. 

“Your quick solo session take a bit too long?” you ask crassly, delighting in the way her eyes roll exasperatedly. “Next time, give me a call and I’ll get you there quickly.”

She starts walking to the dining room, leaving you behind so you have to speed to catch up. “If I ever want someone to cum after three pumps inside me and leave me even more unsatisfied than I was before, I’ll make sure to let you know.”

“Hey, I’d lay you badly, but I’d lay you gladly,” you say as seductively as possible and she snorts. “Come on, you gotta admit you’ve at least thought about it.” 

Agatha spares you a glance. “When I’m trying not to cum. It’s a real turn-off for me personally.”

You also love how she gives as good as she gets. “Please?” you ask, whine, beg. “I’ll be so good for you — I’ll make you feel so good.”

She sniffs and rakes her eyes over your body, pausing at the outline of your cock through your pants. Before you even realize what’s happening, she’s pushed you against the wall and her hand cups your cock and you gasp while bucking into her touch. 

“Really?” Agatha chuckles. You make a muffled sound and try to grind up and she rubs her palm against you, making you throb. “You think you could make me feel good with your cock that’s already about to cum for me?” 

“Yes,” you choke out and she squeezes harder. You’re panting open-mouthed now, trying so hard to hold back from your release. 

She is completely unaffected as she leans in to whisper, “You’re so fucking pathetic,” into your ear and you whimper, your stomach twists, and your cock pulses before pumping loads of cum into your pants. You chant swears under your breath while you cling to her arms for dear life and she watches amusedly as a stain spreads on your pants. 

You’ve never been more of a mess in your life and she just smirks smugly before giving your cock a patronizing pat. 

“I’ll tell your dad you’ll be a little late to lunch.” And then she walks away, leaving you completely agape against the wall, cock still twitching in your pants. 

It’s hard to make eye contact with her the rest of the day without heat flushing through your cheeks and the memory of what she did to you making your cock stir. 

The second you can escape after dinner, you do. You fully intend on spending the rest of the night fucking yourself silly and trying to rid your brain of Agatha.

But around ten, there’s a knock on your door and you swing it open to find Agatha standing there in silk, navy pajamas and black glasses. Your jaw drops open and she brushes right past you to walk into your room and tosses something on the bed. 

A fleshlight. 

“What—” you start to say, but you can’t even finish your question because all the blood in your brain has rushed down to your cock in record time. 

Agatha turns to face you, hands on her hips, lips pursed. “Show me that you can last five minutes with it—” nods at the toy, “—and we’ll see about me letting your cock anywhere close to me.” 

Your breaths come out staggered and you stumble over to the bed, head spinning. There’s no way this is actually happening. You shove down your sweatpants and boxers and your cock bobs up, rigid and hard and leaking copious amounts of precum. 

“God, already?” she snorts and your cock twitches. “You’re so fucking desperate, aren’t you?” 

A muffled whimper escapes your lips and you give yourself a quick stroke. “Fuck.” You reach for the fleshlight, heat completely overwhelming your body, but she stops you first. 

“Spit on yourself,” she orders and you watch her with wide and pleading eyes as a strand of saliva drops from your mouth onto your cock. You feel like you’re in a trance as you spread it out along your length, the wetness of your spit and precum coating your cock and making it glisten in no time. “Fucking pathetic.” 

Her jeers only make you harder and this time, she doesn’t object when you grab the toy. You think you can hear her sharply inhale when you drag your cock against the fake pussy lips and you already know there’s no fucking way you’re going to last one minute, let alone five. 

“Wanna fuck you like this,” you babble before pushing your tip in and instantly freezing at the silicone ridges squeezing around you. You sigh heavily before your breathing quickens and you’re practically panting by the time you get your entire cock inside the fleshlight. 

Agatha’s face is unreadable. “I’m impressed you made it in,” she says, coldly and completely dry, and it makes you thrust into it. It feels so good, even though it’s just a cold, plastic toy and you can only imagine how the real thing would feel. “Well, get on with it. Chop chop, honey. I haven’t got all night to watch your sorry attempt at proving you can fuck me.” 

You grunt and start moving your cock in and out of the toy, whines falling out of you, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to focus on not cumming too soon. You want to last — you need to last for her, because she might actually let you touch her if you. 

“Ah ah,” she tuts and your cock throbs. “Open your eyes.” 

You obey, and the moment you see her, see the slight redness of her cheeks, you know you fucked up. 

With a loud grunt, you cum in the toy, filling it with so much of your seed that it spills out of the fake cunt and drips onto the floor as you continue snapping your hips up. 

Agatha laughs and walks straight to the door. “Not even thirty seconds. Maybe next time.” 

You are absolutely fucked. 

The next night, you’re almost to two minutes while desperately trying to think of anything else other than Agatha standing right there. She’s watching intently, like she’s studying your technique and critiquing it in her head, and you’re doing really well — you think you might actually have a chance to get to five. The secret is thinking about all the boring contracts you had to read this summer to keep your mind off the overwhelming pleasure you’re getting from the toy.

But then Agatha steps closer to you, runs a finger over your lips and down to cup your breast, and says, “God, you really are just a baby, aren’t you?” so sickly sweet. 

It makes you curse before filling the toy up again, your body completely betraying you. 

“That wasn’t fucking fair,” you try to argue. 

She sticks out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Oh, honey,” she coos and it’s so fucking condescending. Your cock twitches inside the toy. “It’s not my fault you’re so pathetic you can’t control yourself.”

“Yes, it is,” you whine and she rolls her eyes. 

“We’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe you should cum before I get here so you might have a chance at lasting for five minutes,” she taunts and you’re too embarrassed to tell her that you already got off before she came tonight. Clearly it did not work. 

You figure that maybe you just need to cum more throughout the day to build up some stamina. You fuck yourself with the fleshlight in the morning after you wake up with morning wood because surprise, surprise: you had another dream about Agatha. When she takes a sip of her orange juice at breakfast, eyes flicking up to meet yours as she sucks on the straw, you have to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and it only takes you about six strokes before you’re cumming all over your hand. It’s a long day of lounging around the pool and hushed conversations, and the moment Agatha steps out onto the desk in a sensible one-piece, you have to wrap a towel around your waist so no one sees your erection through your swim trunks to run back to your room, hastily saying that you forgot sunscreen. You cum into the fleshlight in about three minutes. 

And about thirty minutes before she shows up to your room at 10 pm on the dot, you have another quick session with your hand. 

You are absolutely determined tonight. 

When she strolls in through the door, the air is different. She’s carrying a glass of Scotch and you snatch it as she walks past you, downing the rest in one sip. 

“Are you even old enough to drink?” she asks, eyebrow raised and giving you a once over. 

You laugh sarcastically before setting the cup down on the nightstand and tearing your shirt off over your head, not missing the way her gaze flicks down to your nipples. Usually, you just take your boxers off, but tonight, you want her to see all of you. 

“A little arrogant, hm?” 

Nodding your head, you spit onto your cock and stroke it to full hardness. This is also the first time you haven’t had a raging erection the second she arrived. Before she can say anything, you’ve grabbed the fleshlight and started thrusting your cock into it. It feels good, but you’ve become so desensitized to it, just from today, that you’re feeling more confident than ever. 

Agatha realizes this, sees it on your face. “Wow, look at my slut,” she croones. “She finally learned how to fuck herself. Doesn’t mean you can fuck someone else though. I bet the moment you get inside me, you’ll cum because you’re too fucking pathetic to actually make me feel good.” 

The degradation goes straight to your cock and you grunt, pausing for a second before resuming. The smirk on her face is as frustrating as it is hot and only makes it harder to think clearly. 

“You’re just a worthless little whore, aren’t you?” she snarls and your breaths become shallow and your thrusts become more like quick ruts into the toy. 

“Yes, fuck,” you moan quietly, tightly, and god she’s not playing fair at all. The toy is squeezing you so hard and it’s becoming tougher to keep fucking it, but the prize of getting to be inside Agatha is so close if you can just hang on. 

She scoffs sharply but you can see the heat on her face. Fuck. She likes this. “How are you not absolutely humiliated by yourself and how desperate you are?” she says, getting meaner, and precum is leaking out of the toy each time you drive your cock back into the toy. If you weren’t actively using all of your effort to keep from cumming, you think you would’ve filled up the fleshlight at least three times by now. Agatha is trying so hard to break you, but you refuse. 

The most excruciating five minutes of your life finally end, and you are so fucking triumphant. “We had a deal,” you remind her hoarsely. 

“Stop acting like lasting five minutes is an accomplishment,” she scorns and you have to pull the toy off your aching erection or you actually might cum. Your cock bobs up and down, trails of precum dripping onto the floor and down your length. You’ve made such a mess. “Get on the bed,” she orders, and your heart stops. 

You lay on the duvet, resting your back against the pillows, and watch with bated breath as Agatha slowly unbuttons her pajama shirt. You whine when you can see her tits, round and perky, and you need to get her rosy nipples in your mouth immediately. She takes off her shorts and you can’t help but hump the air, your cock engorged and neglected. 

“Please,” you sob. “It hurts so fucking bad.”

She mockingly coos and then climbs onto the bed with her underwear still on, straddles your hips, and she slowly grinds against your cock. A loud, high-pitched keen tears itself out of your mouth and you buck up into her, but she tsks and hovers above you. “Patience, pet,” she says and there are literal tears in your eyes from how hard you are. 

Agatha reaches down and pulls her panties to the side and rubs her clit for a moment. 

“Can I—”

“—touch me? No. There’s no way you’d make it inside me then,” she sneers and you hate to admit that she’s right. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your cock jumping when she slides two fingers in herself. Your head is spinning, completely drunk with need for her. 

She takes pity on you and grabs your cock, angling it at her entrance. “It’s okay, honey. You’re just a little baby. My little, pathetic, desperate baby.” 

And then she slides down on your cock in one slick motion and your hands scramble to dig into the bedsheets and a loud, strangled moan comes out of your mouth, and you cum instantly, the feeling of her warm, wet walls around you too much to bear. 

To her credit, she doesn’t laugh as you rut into her frantically. She just waits for you to finally calm down before squeezing her cunt around you. It makes you gasp. “I knew you couldn’t last,” she says, slowly starting to bounce up and down your cock. 

“Too sensitive,” you whine and she clucks her tongue. 

“Well, you promised that you were going to fuck me, didn’t you?” 

Your cock has softened inside her, your cum starting to leak out of her pussy, and she collects it with her fingers and starts to rub her clit. Her walls spasm around you and you twitch. You nod your head and bite your lip — she is everything you’ve ever wanted. 

It takes a few minutes of Agatha clenching around you to bring you back to full hardness, a speedy recovery even by your standards, and she starts to ride you for real. 

“Good thing you’re the poster child for instant gratification,” she grunts, lifting herself up and then back down. There’s such a mess between the two of you that there’s squelching sounds each time she moves on you. You’re practically frozen beneath her and all you can do is watch as she fucks herself on you. “Just need to make you cum before actually being able to use you. I’ll train you so well, make you nothing into more than a cock for me to fuck.” 

You finally regain the ability to think and start desperately thrusting up into her, needing more than anything to make her moan, to make her cum. She’s riding you faster and harder and her chest is becoming flushed and you think she might actually be getting somewhere. 

But she squeezes around you again and fucking groans and you never stood a chance. “Fuck, fuck, fuck — Agatha, I’m gonna — fuck!” you cry and erupt inside her again, painting her walls white once again. You’re not even sure if you made it five minutes inside her. 

Agatha slows down on top of you and you wince at the overstimulation of her still wrapped around you. 

“Did you?” It’s a stupid question, one you already know the answer to, but you’re hoping that maybe you got it wrong. 

Her laugh tells you that you did not and she slides off you, your cock flopping against your stomach in a sticky puddle, and she grabs the edge of the blanket on your bed to wipe the globs of cum oozing out of her. Fuck. You’ll never be able to use that blanket without getting hard again and you know that you’ll be fucking the fabric every single day for the rest of your life. 

She flops down next to you and you wonder if it would be foolish to ask her to stay. “It’s not that easy to make me cum, pet. But don’t worry. I’ll get you there.”

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

[emmg]

sending this anon bc im shy and about to be deranged in ur inbox but i just wanted to say thanks for sharing your Emmrich doesn’t realize he’s a sugar daddy au bc not only is it genuinely delightful (its probably my favorite thing currently updating on ao3, I’m printing out every update grinding it into a powder and snorting it, it consumes almost all of my waking thoughts), but it also has me thinking about a swapped version where Emmrich assumes that rook wants a sugar daddy, someone to bankroll her life while she gets her phd, buy her nice things and pretty clothes, take her to fancy restaurants. (And he’s willing bc this Emmrich is 27% lonelier and 14% less well adjusted and he 100% catches serious feelings almost immediately but tells himself that everything will be fine.) When really rook just wanted to fuck her friends hot PHD supervisor but omg he’s actually really sweet and now they’re dating and in love and he’s totally going to propose when she graduates, he only pays for everything bc he’s a gentleman and he buys her clothes for their dates bc she’s not familiar with the restaurant dress codes.

Will I ever write it? Alas, no I shall not bc I can’t pin down the details or decide what direction i want to take it. (How does the misunderstanding begin? How does it last so long? What does Emmrich tell himself to convince himself that he’s not really taking advantage of her? Is it okay because its not like he’s paying her rent, only buying her pretty things and taking her places, is her phd position payed and she has scholarships? Is it bc she approached him? Has rook begun to wonder why she is always the one to take things to the next level, or does she think he’s just a gentleman who’s letting her set the pace? (it is her first serious relationship after all, but why isn’t he responding to her subtle hints that she want to get married and have kids pretty soon after she graduates?) What does Emmrich think is gonna happen when she graduates? does he think she'll end it amicably, a clean break where they never have to see each other again? Or is he preparing to stick it out as she strings him along until she find someone she wants to date for real this time? Is he continuing as normal until he can’t pretend anymore or is he ramping up the princess treatment in a last ditch effort to make her stay just a little bit longer?)

All I know is that it 100% blows up in their faces spectacularly and I am rotating it in my head 24/7

When I tell you I absolutely inhaled this. I mean I practically unhinged my jaw and swallowed it whole. And now I’m just sitting here, seething with jealousy, wondering why the hell I didn’t think of something this disgustingly perfect myself.

You said you wouldn’t write it, but listen: I need you to. If you ever do, you better tag me immediately, because I’ll be sprinting at full speed, ass-first on a warhorse, ready to gorge myself like a famished beast.

Emmrich was just made to be a sugar daddy ok. He wants to take care of peopleeeee

[chvoswxtch]

this is probably extremely niche but frank castle x f reader x dean winchester? romcom or drama (directors cut if I'm allowed lol) whatever works best for you!

I would love you for eternity if you'd write that 💜 (I already do but 🤫)

okay I know you asked for a romcom but I am making an executive directorial decision to make this an action bc why I never thought of putting these two murder boyfriends together is beyond me but also this idea popped into my head and I need to share it with you so

the studio is moving in a different direction but I think it's one you'll be pleased with :)

blurb below the cut

10 things I hate about you starring frank castle & dean winchester

For two men that weren’t scared of anyone or anything, neither one of them could look you in the eye. They could feel the weight of your glare as you stood there with your hands on your hips, making them feel like children getting silently reprimanded with just a look. Dean was the first to speak up. Clearing his throat, he mustered up that cocky bravado and flashed you his usual charming smirk.

“You know, it’s really not as bad as it-”

“No.”

Immediately the smirk disappeared, and he swiftly closed his mouth with a nod, averting his gaze back to the floor. Frank’s dark brows knit together as he shot Dean a ‘what the fuck are you doing’ look, to which Dean silently responded to with a clueless shrug and annoyed expression.

All you ever asked from the two of them was to be careful. You knew what they did was dangerous, that there was always a risk for injury, or more permanent consequences you didn’t even want to think about. You knew they weren’t invincible. But Dean and Frank were forces to be reckoned with by themselves, so when they went after something together, they usually came home virtually unscathed. 

To see the two most dangerous men you’d ever met in your life, who were feared by men and monsters alike, come home covered in blood looking like they’d been through hell and back, needless to say you panicked and that panic turned to fury at their recklessness. 

Seeing the mixture of emotions on your face, Frank finally spoke up, lifting his bloodied hands in a show of placation.

“Look, we’re alright-”

“You’re bleeding all over the goddamn floor.”

“It’s just blood, with a little bleach it’ll-”

Snapping your head towards Dean, you looked at him in irritated incredulity.

“I’m not worried about the fucking floor, asshole.”

Dean and Frank shared a look. They’d never seen you this upset before. Frank let out a deep exhale, looking at you with those warm brown eyes that made you weak in the knees.

“Hey, we’re okay. We made it home, yeah? A few more scratches than we intended, but we’ll be fine. I promise.”

Frank kept his voice gentle, trying to soothe you with his words. Dean on the other hand seemed to be holding his breath, like he was scared you’d rip his head off if he said one more wrong thing. Frank took a few cautious steps towards you, reaching out to gently take your hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. When you let out a deep breath at the physical contact, the tension in the room seemed to slowly fade along with the tension pent up in your body.

“Attagirl, there we go.”

Frank pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“C’mon, you know we ain’t made of daisies.”

“Well you’re not made of steel either.”

Letting out a deep chuckle, Frank nodded and gave you a soft kiss before heading down the hallway to fetch the first aid kit from the bathroom. Now that the mood was considerably lighter, Dean swaggered over with a flirty smirk.

“You know, if it’ll make you feel better, you’re welcome to strip me down and kiss it better. As a matter of fact, right below my belt-”

“Dean, shut the fuck up.”

Shaking your head with an exhausted laugh, Dean grinned and laughed himself. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you tight into his side, leading you down the hall while pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“C’mon baby, me and Grumpy need your loving touch.”

[yourlocalgrass]

Ok so uhmm this popped up into my head very randomly, (Lesson 56 spoilers btw) Basically I love putting silly little angsty scenarios in my head so this one also popped up since I was rereading S3 not too long while ago:

So… I was thinking imagine Lesson 56 but plot twist where the gun had shot MC instead of Belphie and succeeded? maybe not even any critical spot, where it would be life threatening, but still they would be seriously injured either way.

The lesson would take a 180 flip. I think Belphie would resent Diavolo for the rest of his life at that point probably blaming this all on him, and on top, there’s no way that dude who shot the gun would have made it out alive. Nuh-uh, not if he dared hurt MC. Yup goner for sure. Their relationship would probably forever or at least a very long time be damaged or strained.

Bonus points if they were hit critically.

Now that would be called a bad ending. I love that idea.

Sigh, I love thinking of super-depressing-angsty scenarios to put characters through sometimes…

Also refresher reminder of what happened in Lesson 56:

And they became besties. Good ending

Looking at this I feel guilty for coming up with an entire bad ending on my own in my weird head…

[daffi-990]

I haven’t posted a fic since September but just know that I have two waiting in the wings .. one that is done and awaiting to be beta read and the other that I just need to reread and edit a bit before sending it off to my beta.

Soooo stay tuned I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

.

[armando-triplepapito]

Dang crazy how Roberto left part of his acciones to Betty! (not 100% sure but it’s pretty obvious)

Ngl if I were Marcela I’d be pissed but mostly betrayed especially since she viewed him as a second father. In her defense it would’ve been normal to expect she’d get some of Roberto’s share. He knew how much Marcela loved Ecomoda. Tho it’s too early to assume anything.

What I’m guessing is that Doña Margarita died before Roberto so who knows maybe she gave Marcela some of her shares and Marcela then felt entitled to Roberto’s as well? Or maybe Roberto did leave something for Marcela which he thought would’ve been more valuable than his acciones but Marcela didn’t viewed it as such?🤔 idk but I can already sense Marcela is going to blame Betty for not inheriting anything…

Okay prediction time!:

I think Marcela’s overall goal was to win the presidency for her son (or who ever that guy is, he’s definitely a Valencia).

I’m assuming Betty was president before she left for two years. Something happened which Marcela was able to ask for Betty’s head.

While voting for the presidency she probably lost due to majority rule and Armando took over as president. She was fine with it cause she probably knew he wasn’t going to last long. With Betty out of the picture and with Roberto’s death she was certain her son will take the presidency because she assumed she will inherit some of Roberto’s acciones. She probably wouldn’t have won majority vote but she could’ve won cause her vote would’ve had more weight with Roberto’s acciones.

Obviously Betty got the acciones and became president again and which ruined Marcela’s plan…

Obviously Marcela’s pissed and will now go above and beyond for her son to become president.

And that’s where another prediction come in!

What if she convinces her son to seduce Camila?👀 it’s history repeating itself! Camilla will go through what Betty did! A man seducing her for Ecomoda…

^but yea idk about this prediction tho💀 i can already guess that Hugo’s assistant (im assuming) will try to seduce Camila. But I don’t think it’s for Ecomoda but for another sick intention. That will be the difference between Marcela’s kid and Hugo’s assistant.

Also I wouldn’t be surprised if Marcela’s kid actually falls in love with Camila (again history repeating itself) and that’s how Marcela will get her redemption. Having to watch her son fall in love with a Mendoza just like her , watching them end up together just how she wished for herself. She will then understand that the hate she carried is a waste and will finally get along with Betty finally restoring the strong bond between the Mendoza & Valencia’s.

So yea that’s what I’m expecting as subplots for this sequel…

[itspileofgoodthings]

sometimes I make a post and then have to save it to drafts so I can gauge if it’s too shallow/flippant for me to share with the general public.

[cherubdulce]

I really don’t want to sound harsh but I don’t understand people getting mad over others liking over reblogging their stuff? Like i understand wanting your works spread around but being an asshole about it just makes others not engage in your works?? It just leaves a bad taste in my mouth when people guilt their own followers in doing so

[bookwyrminspiration]

dad finished reading Stellarlune! he said “this book was *checks random page* all talking.” and “if this was what she was building to—which she said in the acknowledgements—why didn’t we do this like. four books ago.” and “this was an information dump, telling us everything to get us caught up. and where’s Ro?? she’s the next problem.” just thought I’d let you know.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

ok ok so you know how my life has majorly revolved around my pain since july & how that has been extremely difficult :) well lately I find myself getting up later than I want to & making my bed as badly as I possibly can & getting out of the house after noon when I planned to get out in the morning & walking to the library when it’s sunny & sitting there for hours & the whole time I’m most concerned with writing & that it’s incredible what I’m doing, it’s a little paradise

[chastiefoul]

how they'd react when you wanted to sleep on the couch... just because.

fluff. light-hearted ft. gojo, nanami, sukuna, suguru, toji, choso

satoru

“baby scooch over.” a whispered voice along with a gentle nudge on the shoulder woke you from your dozed off state. “hmm?” you mumbled out, blinking your terribly heavy lids open although to no avail they’re begging to keep themselves shut. satoru glanced at you with a frown on his eyes with a pillow held close to his body. “scooch over baby,” he pleaded, kneeling beside the couch you’re currently lying on.

“go back to bed toru,” you said softly, tugging your blanket closer. “but you’re not there,” he whined, intertwining his hand with yours as he attacked it with kisses, not letting you go back to sleep, especially if it’s without him. “i thought you said you’re going to be fine?” you asked, jogging the memory of him being all smug while saying you could do whatever you wanted. “that was not me, i would never say that,” he said promptly and goodness you didn’t know before someone’s lips could turned that much downward. you chuckled breathily, knowing this will happen sooner or later.

you scooted over on the big couch, leaving him the space he’d been begging for. you could have sworn you heard a squeal before you’re wrapped in satoru’s warm hold, his head resting snugly atop of yours. “no sleeping on here anymore. not without me,” he said into your hair, kissing it softly.

❀

nanami

“but why, love?” he asked, having a hard time comprehending your wish to sleep alone on the living room only because... you randomly wanted to? you chuckled looking at his bewildered face, an expression of someone who’s probably racking his brain upside down thinking that he’s done something wrong. “ken, i promise it’s just because i feel like it and no reason other than that.” you cupped his face, planting a soft kiss on his nose.

nanami looked a little relieved, albeit sullen, hesitant in asking whether he could invite himself in or you wanted a little time for yourself. and when it’s finally time to sleep it’s becoming more obvious that your lover wasn’t going to make it easy for you.

“need any more blanket honey?” he asked tapping the head of the couch as he stood there a tad nervous, knowing full well you got everything you needed since he insisted to be the one to prepare it. pillows, blanket, a hot drink, he’s got it all for you. “i’m perfect here, ken. you can go to bed,” you said with a reassuring smile, yet it did the opposite effect to the man.

“can i be here until you sleep, my love? it’s just that i feel like i wouldn’t be able to rest properly until i see you do the same.” he stroke your cheek softly with his thumb, and when you leaned into his touch he knew he’s gone for you. that there’s no way he could be asleep if he went back to the bedroom in that moment—unless you’re with him, of course. though, he didn’t say this, he just continued combing through your strands of hair, loving the peaceful expression on your face.

and unfortunately for the blond man, when it comes to these things his thoughts were written all over his face. you already caught on the fact that he wanted to lie down with you there yet his wish in prioritizing your wants refrained him from speaking his. you laughed a little, feeling a burst of fondness towards the tall man.

“on a second thought, can you sleep here with me ken?” he moved as quick as the sentence ended, already making his way under the blanket. he sneaked a hand around your waist, pressing your body closer against him. “i was kind of hoping you’d ask,” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed. you snuggled closer to his chest, feeling utmost comfort as he rubbed your back gently.

“i know.”

❀

sukuna

not even ten minutes in trying to sleep on the said couch, sukuna had already carried you back towards your shared bedroom.

“but-“

“no.”

he put you on the bed gently, then he draped a blanket over as he tucked you in. sukuna has that look of a man who’s determined in keeping you there, and you already knew it’s a fight you could not win thus, you turned for another plan instead: pouting.

even until he got beside you as he rested his big hand on your stomach, you refused to look at him, crossing your hands in front of your chest. he sighed, “give me one good reason i should let you sleep out there,” he said exasperatedly. “cause i want some me time?” you claimed. even you weren’t sure why you’re battling him so hard on this.

“then have it here in this bed with me. you’ll get all cold later and cling to me later anyways. i’m just speeding up the process.” he replied, already closing his eyes.

“what a strange way of saying you couldn’t sleep without me,” you said, with a grin on your face. the feeling of his thumb moving against your skin brought you immense comfort, your impulsive plan long forgotten.

“if you already knew that then quit making it harder for me, brat.”

❀

toji

he stared at you who’s already making yourself comfortable on the couch, amused. “looking cozy there,” he said with a grin, a face of someone who’s up to no good. “yeah, it’s actually not ba-“ the sentence was cut off was your own squeal, toji had picked you up as he took your lying down position and put you top of him.

“you could’ve just asked first!” you fumed, hitting his bicep—which did more to you and it did him, how could one even get their muscle to be as hard as that? he just chuckled in response, putting a hand around your waist. “sorry doll, got too excited,” he said lazily, already seemed all happy, like he had all he needed.

and he did, with you close to him resting your head on his chest, knowing that you loved counting his heartbeat. the man was truly content.

“we really should get a bigger couch,” you mumbled. we should get everything you wanted, toji thought. but it’d be a bit much to say in the moment so instead he just continued rubbing your sides until you dozed off, plunging into the dream land.

“sleep.”

❀

suguru

“whatcha got there baby?” he asked, an easy smile on his face. there’s really no day with you where you didn’t make him tilt his head questioningly. “’m going to sleep here tonight,” you said, fluffing the pillow before lying down on it comfortably.

“okay, where’s mine then?”

“your what?”

“my pillow. you didn’t bring mine along yours?”

“oh well i just thought you’d want to sleep in the bed anyway?” you replied, and suguru looked like you just insulted him deeply. the couch dipped, he then lied down beside you on the same pillow, making him extra close as he embraced you. “i sleep where you sleep baby, you make me this way. i can no longer rest when i don’t get to hold you close like this,” he said softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you have a big smile on your face as he said this, inhaling his familiar scent as you put your arms around him. “that better not be a complaint,” you said, cuddling closer to the man.

“never.” he kissed your temple.

❀

choso

it seriously look like it killed him when he had to walk away from the room, leaving you to sleep by yourself on the couch. his steps were excruciatingly slow, taking as much time as he could in case you changed your mind.

“cho?” you almost laughed looking at the way he perked up, a hopeful expression on his face. “can you turn off the light on your way?” and it almost felt too cruel the way the sparkle on his eyes dimmed, his shoulders beyond slumped. he then practically had to drag his own feet before letting out a small nod.

you chuckled, couldn’t keep up with the teasing anymore. “i’m kidding baby, do you wanna get in here?” you lifted up the blanket, patting the empty space next to you. it was the fastest you’ve ever seen him, as he’s beside you in no time.

he clinged to you tightly, like he’s making sure as much of his skin made contact with yours, a satisfied smile on his face. his hair tickled your neck nicely, as you traced the area below his eye with back of your finger.

“next time you want something just ask, cho.”

[trashbatistrash]

,

[ceciliathecabinwitch]

Made what my boss calls ‘American spaghetti’ for dinner, which is to say that I made spaghetti but I used canned sauce

But anyway, my partner found out today that one of his favorite coworkers is leaving and was pretty bummed so it was a nice opportunity for me to actually get into the kitchen for the first time in a little bit and I added in some basil (which I use for most home/peace/happiness things) and rosemary (which I use for kind of clearing the air, in this case of that negativity/sadness) and he seems to have pepped up quite a bit

That probably has more to do with the fact that spaghetti is so delicious it’s hard to be sad after you eat it than anything about the love and intention and stirring technique used and all that, but hey, why not both?

Also pro tip that may seem super obvious to people but some people don’t know this:

If you’re making spaghetti after you boil the noodles, first of all you should drain them, and then you should add them to the sauce and mix them in there (a little at a time makes this work better/more easily but you can just dump them all in if you want) because that gets the noodles sauced up a Lot better than just adding sauce to the top of the noodles when you serve it does, even if you mix it once you have your portion

[queennightingale]

Dc x Dp Prompt

Is my classmate a secret love child of a rouge?!?!

Tim drake knew he was odd, with dark circles blacker than black holes, and skin as pale as Elsa’s, but some how this kid made him perplexed.

Danny Fenton was a genuine mystery. The first time he met the boy, was in the police department, asleep on one of the couches. He was waiting to be questioned about a mugging (because he was NOT a gothamite and actually went to the police about it) and fell asleep, and Tim was alarmed when he touched the boy’s paper- white skin and it was ICE COLD. Like- Tim probably would have been stuck to the ice if it was actually there, kind of cold. Yet, the boy was alive. His slow, too slow to be normal, breathing proved that.

Tim met him a second time in a college class, which they apparently shared? He was wide wake, with 3 cans of Red Bull and 2 cans of monster, and SOMEHOW Alive. How does someone genuinely do that? Then, he mentioned something about his parents during a group project.

“Yeah, my parents lab had ‘safety suggestions’ but they never followed them. Honestly it’s a miracle I’m still here.” He said. Then, as he thought no one was looking, but TIM WAS LOOKING, he accidentally froze his drink.

Tim froze up.

Mr Freeze has a son?!

___

Tim slammed the door open to the batcave, where the whole family was, and shouted “FREEZE HAS A KID?!?

(No, he doesn’t. Danny has NO CLUE what is happening, or why Tim Drake is so inquisitive, but he didn’t care. Gotham was full of weirdos, including himself. Tim is having a mental crisis that is not nessesary. Freeze is wondering why the hell the bats are talking about a kid. He doesn’t HAVE a kid. )

[the-somwthing]

oh god I reached tag limit. Dear god. Should I make my own post or are my takes in the tags god awful and I should’ve kept them to myself 😭

(also I mistakenly said clethubs instead of cledubs cuz it flows better, ignore me Etho has nothing to do with any of this)

ok now that im watching scotts pov i can finally make the poll i want