This is basically what I am reading/catching up on. There's more than what is here that I'll add later. Check out their work though! I highly recommend it. :)
I don’t even care if it’s macaroni, ramen or those little bowls you stick in the microwave. Please, I need reassurance that most of the population on tumblr WOULDN’T STARVE TO DEATH if their parents couldn’t fix them food or they couldn’t go out to eat.
Since you woke up that morning, you were wet; your panties worthlessly snuggled deep into your slit, blankets twisted around your legs. You need to be fucked, but no amount of self-pleasure made your predicament any better.
Late for work because the shower just felt too good, you tried to keep busy at your desk to make up for the lost time. Phones were ringing off the hook, emails were piling up, and your boss had two appointments that canceled on him, leaving him a little frazzled.
Despite the hectic day, you couldn’t help the arousal still throbbing inside of you. Your clit had a mind of its own, distracting you anytime you moved in your chair or walked to the copier. Even the tiniest brush of your skirt against your thighs made the wetness worse and by ten, you were sure there was a giant wet spot in your panties.
Fanfiction is comfort after a long day. Fanfiction is hope when things aren't going so well. Fanfiction is exploring your emotions and sexuality in a safe place. Fanfiction is reaching out into a universe to discover things you never knew before. Fanfiction is discovering things about yourself that you were unsure of. Fanfiction is going on adventures. Fanfiction is walking when maybe you cannot. Fanfiction is standing up for yourself when it's hard to do in real life. Fanfiction is having the family you never had, the friends you always wanted, the love and affection you deserve. Fanfiction is letting out your frustrations and anger in a safe place. Fanfiction helps people. Readers and Writers alike.
Fanfiction is not "lesser writing".
Fanfiction is 100k stories about two dudes in a shiny black car. Fanfiction is 47 chapter epic tales about dragons and magic. Fanfiction is short stories that evoke such emotions that leave you crying for hours. Fanfiction is incredible prose that lingers in your mind for years to come.
Fanfiction is not shameful. It is not worthless. It is not just some silly thing kids do.
Fanfiction is beautiful art and no one can take that away from you. If they try, just write them into your next story and beat the hell out of them.
God it hurts but it's also really fucking good the way he's ratcheting into you, every pull out lifting you off of the wall, every thrust slamming you back into it. The plaster is groaning nearly as loud as you are and the dusty wallpaper is threatening to curl around you. The motel room didn’t know what was in store when you checked in; truly, neither had you.
The forest was endless and the light was starting to fade. The sky above the canopy was ebbing to indigo, flooding the woods with the golden glow of sunset.
Dead leaves crunched beneath your shoes; damp moss slid through the treads, threatening to pull you down. Branches tore at your arms, thorns scraped at your exposed flesh; the trees were relentless, but so was he.
“Come out, come out wherever you are!”
Soldier Boy’s deep voice echoed through the woods, bouncing off of the landscape and vibrating through your chest.
Sam sat back in his favorite reading chair, the lamp beside him casting a pleasant glow across the book that lay in his lap. He sighed happily as he turned the page and checked his watch.
Seven twenty-three.
A smirk lit his lips and he reached into his jeans for his phone, quickly opening the app and pressing a button.
Around the corner in the War Room, Y/N felt a buzzing in her cunt. She jumped straight out of her seat, left her work behind, and rushed into the Library. She said not a word, but stopped in front of Sam and bowed her head, her hands clasped behind her back.
The buzzing eased to a low hum and her pussy clenched.
Sam smiled at her and clicked his tongue, thinking.
“Get me a beer,” he ordered, voice low and steady, empty as if he were ordering from a waitress in a strange pub.
Y/N nodded and spun on her heel, turning towards the kitchen.
Sam sat back and ran his fingers down the page before him. “This is too good,” he whispered to himself, shaking his head at their game.
She was back in less than a minute with a freshly opened bottle of brew in hand.
He slips a finger into the metal ring and tugs; testing. The leather bites into the back of your neck as you’re jerked forward.
“Yeah,” Dean says, voice like gravel. “That’ll do.”
Cheap carpet burns against your bare knees where you’ve been kneeling for so long. You don’t dare move, absorbing the pain instead; drawing it in and converting it to driving pleasure. It settles between your legs and you bite your lip.
Dean’s behind you now, testing the rope binding your wrists. He hums, satisfied, then yanks your head back by the hair, oily eyes shining down at you.
“Looks like you ain’t goin’ anywhere,” he grins, then winks. You drip. “Not that you want to, huh?” he continues, shoving your head forward again, then circles back around. “Nah,” he says, working his belt open, “you’re right where you belong.”
Your mouth waters as you watch him tug his jeans down just enough to pull his dick out; it’s full and heavy, glistening so pretty at the ruddy tip.
“Hungry?’ Dean gleams.
You hear yourself whine before dropping your jaw, leaning forward as he feeds his cock into your mouth. Your eyes roll back at the taste of him, at the weight against your tongue as it glides in deeper and deeper. You choke wet when he butts up against the back of your throat, closing your lips around the thick bulk of him.
“Oh, she’s just starving for cock,” he says, sliding back… “Ain’t she?” He stills, thumps his hand against your cheek a solid three times, then falls into a lazy rhythm; hips rocking back and forth, blunt nails scraping over your scalp, dragging through the mess of your hair. “Fuck,” he breathes, head tipping back.
You’re sure the damp spot on the carpet between your spread knees is spreading with the way your cunt is leaking, dripping with every soft punch of his dick against your throat. You moan low as he moves in and out, and then his fingers curl and tighten, hips thrusting faster.
Drool spills down your chin in little streams as he fucks into your mouth, and your jaw aches from being open so wide for so long. Pain prickles over your scalp from where he’s tugging on your hair, his fingernails leaving burning trails behind - and all of it swirls and melts into the exquisite pleasure heating your blood.
He gets a hand down, hooking a thick finger back into that metal ring, jerking you forward on every quickening snap of his hips. He groans, cursing at the ceiling as you gurgle around him, heavy balls slapping your slick chin-
“F-fuck!” he snarls, yanking you until you can feel the bulge of his dick in your throat. Tears slip down your flushed cheeks as he twitches and spills and then he stays there, cutting off your breath as he softens. You want to touch yourself so badly you could scream - if you weren’t plugged up.
“One week,” Dean says, voice rough as he brings his head back down and pulls out, shakes what’s left onto your cracked-open lips. “Only took one week to break you.” He gives you a pat on your damp cheek as you suck the air in, inky eyes fading back to green, and stuffs himself away. He grins lazy and runs a hand through his hair, then leans down and braces his hands on his knees. “Ain’t this better?”
You don’t answer, know better than that, but your pussy agrees, twitching enthusiastically.
“You were a fuckin’ shit hunter,” he says, rising tall. “But a damned amazing fucktoy.”
My darlings, I am super excited to finally announce the release of my sixth book- Whatever It Is - Now available on Amazon paperback and kindle!
Whatever It Is is an emotional, angsty, classic fake dating romance between billionaire Ben Forrester and recently single secretary Hadley Richards. Set in NYC, they navigate through the glitz and glamor of his life and dig through her troubled past to find that sometimes, love can come in the when you least expect it.
Please take a moment to check it out and get yourself a copy!
And... as a special extra bit of awesomeness to celebrate its release- if you reblog this post, you'll be entered to win a signed paperback copy!
You know how you make a plan to do stuff and the day you are suppose to tackle the list of things to do, SOMEONE wants to text you "Hey, you! Any updates on that thing? 😊" DUDE ITS NOT EVEN DUE FOR ANOTHER MONTH AND A HALF. NOW I DONT WANNA DO IT. YOU COULD LITERALLY SEE IF THERE HAS BEEN ANY UPDATES. LEAVE ME ALONE. STOP MESSING UP MY SELF MOTIVATION BECAUSE IT TOOK A LOT TO EVEN WRITE THE PLAN GOSHDARNIT. So now imma pretend i never saw the text and go about my plan MY WAY 😤.
I don't wanna work anymore. I pretty much only work to pay bills. I am too tired when i get home to READ fanfics. I used to be able to read them day in and day out. Now i just donate to writers i used to constantly read from because I. Am. Tired. Not just physically. Mentally tired of it all. This sucks because i have so much to read and i dont know if i will get to all them before they stop writing :( . I wouldnt be so damn tired if the minimum wage wasnt so shit in this country. Ugggghh I wish i still had that freedom from when i was 18. Binging anime, fanfics, video games, roleplay, deep talks with friends, and my art. I barely get to do just one of those things now.
Summary: In an unfortunate turn of events, you find yourself locked away with Michael.
Warnings: Dub-Con, Smut, Fingering, Rough Sex. Set during episode 14x10.
A/N: Please heed the warnings.
***
Shit.
Shit-shit-shit-shit.
You should have screamed, but you were too frozen, not that you’d be heard over Michael’s rage anyway. You’d hidden yourself back here thinking you could somehow ambush the Archangel, but hadn’t foreseen this.
It’s too late now, too quiet on the other side. How could they not have noticed? You regret volunteering now, wishing with everything that you could break that damned machine.
The refrigerated room is cold, but it has little to do with your trembling. You stay crouched down low, watching as Michael effortlessly lifts a keg, heaving it at the door, leaving a dent in the metal. He roars and everything shakes. You press a hand against the back of your mouth to stifle the whimpers.
Tell me about that moment, during sex with John, when he starts to get all slow and serious
The headboard’s been banging against the wall behind it for a while now. So loud and quick that you’re sure there’ll be a noise complaint at the front desk soon. But fuck it, he’s got that look in his eye, that sneering bite, that deep growling moan that amps up the heat inside of you.
If there’s an inch of you that’s not wet, you’d be shocked. Your cunt is slippery as anything, your skin glistening with sweat, your lips, throat and tits covered in his sloppy kisses. He’s taken over every bit of you; you’re trapped in the cage of his strong arms, pinned down deep into the mattress.
“Fuck, John, please!” You dig your nails into his shoulders as he angles downwards, stroking your sweet spot with his thick cock.
He sucks in a heavy breath and catches your eye, suddenly slowing, his maniac pace dropping to a languid and deep thrust.
His dark features ease; eyes cloud over with something tender. He dips down with his lips to kiss your mouth, softly licking into you as you open up for him. It’s slow and soft yet urgent, as if he’s trying to speak to you through the kiss.
When he releases you, his eyes are still wide, locked onto yours and you gasp as a subtle smile lifts his plump, cracked lips.
Running a hand down his scratchy cheek, you smile. “Love you,” you whisper, gasping at the end as he slips his cock from you and then jabs back in deeper than ever.
He grinds against you, flooding your body with pleasure, watching closely as you twist beneath him. He shifts a bit to the left and the world explodes into vibrant color as you let go. Your body pulses around him as he rides you into the bed, headboard cracking once more, this time like the tick of a clock.
“Love you,” you say again, blissfully happy to be trapped overnight in a shitty motel with him. “Love you… love you…”
John’s eyes fill with love and tears as he jerks his hips for the final time, cumming deep inside your cunt, filling you to the brim.
He falls, controlled but exhausted, and rolls onto his back, pulling you with him. He cradles your head, keeps you locked to him, your ear to his chest. His heart is racing and his breath is rough.
“Love you too, Princess,” he sings, just a whisper as he closes his eyes and plants a kiss to the top of your head. “So fucking much.”
You are using an unsupported browser and things might not work as intended. Please make sure you're using the latest version of Chrome, Firefox, Safari, or Edge.
