#that’s a fifty year old man. Jesus

[byvishanti]

honestly why is it so hard to find poc/desi (specifically bollywood actually) male faceclaims below 40-50 age.

#lemme tell you why #it's cause bollywood is full of young women and the same crusty old dudes #I'M SORRY I LOVE MY DILFS OKAY #BUT THIS IS REALLY WEIRD #YOU'VE GOT SOME GIRL IN HER 20S #AND HER HERO??? A FIFTY YEAR OLD MAN #no s/rks or s/elmons were indirected here of course #but jesus christ why are y'all romancing your granddaughters on screen #the options for younger male fcs in bollywood are so fucking scarce its WEIRD deadass #anyway this is an open call for recommendations #please help ya gal out #bollywood #bollywood fcs #desi rph #poc rph #indian rph #asian rph

[unclewaynemunson]

"What. The. Fuck."

Over years of living in a trailer park, Eddie has seen his fair share of weird shit. But this right here? This surpasses everything.

Wayne is sitting on the couch in the living room, with an actual baby in his lap and a completely deadpan expression on his face like this is something that happens every day.

"Hey, Ed. Meet Sasha Munson."

"Sasha Munson?" Eddie repeats, hoping that saying the name out loud will make this whole thing less surreal. It doesn't, so he automatically switches right into disbelieving panic mode instead. "Sasha Munson?! What the fuck? She isn't mine, I promise, it's literally impossible, someone must've - Wait, hold on - Is she yours? Aren't you like fifty years too old to knock someone up? What the fuck did you do? Who's the mother? What were you thinking, man, we can't take care of a -"

"Eddie, sit down."

"No, I'm not sitting down, this is ridiculous, what the fucking fuck, we can't -"

"She ain't mine and she ain't yours."

"What the-" It takes a few seconds before Wayne's words sink in. Then, Eddie freezes mid-sentence, giving his brain a second or two to catch up to what Wayne just said.

"Wait, what?" he asks.

He gives the sleeping baby a distrustful look. It's small - too small to be a human, if you asks Eddie. It scares him a little bit.

"Then whose is she?"

"I told ya to sit down, Ed."

And Wayne's voice is so strict and serious that Eddie can only obey.

"Your dad was here earlier."

Those few words are enough to tell Eddie exactly what happened. He immediately feels sick to his stomach. He wants to cover his ears, or walk out of the trailer and never come back. But instead, he keeps sitting, frozen in his chair, and listens to what Wayne tells him.

"Sasha is his daughter. He had this girlfriend, Melody, 'bout a year ago. She's much younger than him, is all I know 'bout her. I think they were kinda serious at the time. But Clyde went and messed it up, of course. Cheated on her. She dumped him. Then showed up again a few weeks later all sobered up and told him she was pregnant. Far as I know, things went okay for a while after that. But she caved right after she gave birth. It took a toll on her, Clyde said. So she needed the drugs again. He left her; he didn't see a way to help her and he was worried 'bout Sasha's safety. So he took Sasha with him and brought her to me. Said he couldn't take care of a baby and that was that."

It is a story eerily similar to what Wayne told Eddie about his own early years, whenever he'd ask him questions about his parents.

Eddie looks at the tiny human in Wayne's arms. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is just slightly agape. She's wrapped in a blanket that has a soft shade of pink, with tiny elephants printed across it.

"He never learns, does he?" Eddie remarks with a sigh.

"He doesn't," Wayne affirms in a soft voice, shaking his head. "But you know what, if these are the consequences of his actions..." He first looks up at Eddie, then down at the baby in his lap again. "I can't even be too mad at him for it."

"Jesus Christ, what a mess."

"Don't think too badly of him, Ed," Wayne says. "He wanted to help them. Both of 'em. But he didn't know how. He did what he thought was gonna be best for Sasha. Just like he did with you. He ain't evil. Just a coward who makes bad decisions."

Eddie swallows thickly.

"We'll make it work," Wayne says with certainty in his voice. "It'll be tight, but we'll survive. We did it before, we can do it again."

Eddie nods.

"You wanna hold her?"

He shifts uneasily. She seems so fragile. He doesn't know a single thing about babies; he is his father's son, after all, not Wayne's, no matter how much he wishes he were.

"C'mon, Ed, she's your sister."

It's only now that Eddie notices how well it fits, Wayne with a baby in his arms. Like he was made to be a father. Like Sasha belongs there. There aren't any pictures of Eddie as a baby, as far as he knows, but he imagines it must've looked somewhat like this scene: the exact same couch, a different blanket, and a younger version of Wayne. One with less wrinkles and more hair; less worn-out by the sorrows Eddie has given him over the years. It's simple for Wayne, in a way it isn't for Eddie's father, and in a way that Eddie fears it won't be for him. To hold her gently and let her sleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat. To sit with her quietly and do nothing else. To give love and patience without expecting anything in return.

Eddie rises from his chair and sits down next to Wayne on the couch. He utters a shaky breath, trying not to show his nerves, and wipes his sweaty hands over his jeans before holding out his arms.

“Just like that,” says Wayne softly while he places Sasha in Eddie's arms.

She's warm and has that specific newborn baby scent clinging around her. She's heavier than Eddie expected. She stirs a little bit and makes a tiny sound, but then she continues her peaceful sleep. He studies her: her closed eyes, her tiny nose, the way her head rolls around helplessly if he doesn't support her steadily enough; the hand that's hanging out of the blanket, with minuscule but fully developed fingers that grab around nothing. He listens to the steady sound of her breathing and imagines the tiny lungs inside her body working on pure instinct to keep her alive. His sister.

He looks up and finds Wayne staring at the two of them with tears in his eyes. He only catches Eddie's gaze for a fraction of a second, then he looks away, to the window on his right side.

“You're wrong, you know,” Eddie says.

Wayne turns his head back to him.

“Bout what?”

“She isn't his. Neither am I.” He looks up from the girl in his hands to meet Wayne's eyes. “We're both yours. He didn't do jackshit for us, just dropped us here with you and ran away. You're the one who raised me, Uncle Wayne, and that makes me yours way more than his. And Sasha? We're both gonna be here for her, every step of the way. We're gonna change her diapers and feed her milk - I don't really know anything else about babies, but we're gonna do all of that, together. We're gonna see her grow up and become a person. She's ours.”

Wayne produces a noise that sounds somewhat like a choked-off sob. He puts an arm around Eddie and drags him closer towards him. He doesn't say anything, but Eddie didn't expect him to. He understands.

#wayne munson was in dire need of an accidental baby acquisition trope okay #i said so #i know we all love steve accidentally becoming a parent to a baby half sibling but #consider this please #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #eddie munson #wayne munson #stranger things #fruity ficlet

[rafescurtainbangz]

Two of a Kind (Billy Hargrove One Shot)

+18

Minor DNI

The two of you are headed out on vacation. If there is one thing that Billy has to be, it's early to the airport. When he decides to push your buttons, you push his right back. Has Billy met his match?

Dom!Dom, Sex toys, Brat, Oral (Female Receiving)

Your POV:

"Y/N!"

"William!" You shriek. "If you tell me to hurry up one more time I swear you're gonna be suckin' your own dick this trip. Jesus Christ! What are you fifty fuckin' years old?"

Billy chuckles darkly from the living room, taunting you further; driving you absolutely fucking insane. He sighs heavily, heaving himself up from the couch.

You hear his footsteps; the heels of his boots shuffling over your hardwood floor.

When I turn around he's going to be leaning into the doorframe. That smirk; a smolder in his eyes that makes me throb. And, all I'll get is a tease because this motherfucker needs to be at the airport four hours early.

For what?

You continue to stuff your clothes in your suitcase. Coercing the man with a lack of one of his favorite things... your attention.

He clears his throat as you continue to toil, leaving Billy no choice but to get physical to get what he wants. You.

Mmm... Then it's all over.

His heavy feet move closer. Anticipation builds as you feel his hips flush with your ass, he reaches down, taking a hold of your waist.

"Y/n..."

"Mhmm..." You hum as if it's nothing, leaning forward to reach for your heels "somehow" finding yourself in Billy's favorite position; your hips in his hands, taking you from behind; you, fucking him back.

"Goddamn," he grumbles; his hands circling your ass.

"Did you need something? I'm in a rush, apparently."

"Why are you ignoring me, baby?" He runs his hand up the middle of your back; the other, pulling your hips closer.

"Because Hargrove you're a fucking tease and you know it."

He lets out that same chuckle; velvety and low as his fingers weave through your hair at the nape of your neck.

Pull it, Billy... You know you want to.

He doesn't, moving his hips ever so slightly; pressing into you at the perfect tempo.

"You did this to me when we went to Cali. You did this to me when we went to Minnesota and Dallas; and New Orleans. You get me all fuckin' worked up, only to sit in an airport for hours. And I have this sinking feeling I'm gonna be dealing with this shit for the rest of my life."

Billy lets out a sigh, his finger tangling a little tighter through your curls; hips working just the slightest bit harder. His cock is stiff, rock hard in his practically painted-on Levi's jeans. You zip the big compartment of your luggage shut.

"I have had a long week at work. A long fuckin' year actually. I need this vacation. So, Billy... If you wouldn't mind taking a seat in the living room-."

"Excuse me?" He cuts you off, releasing his grip on your hair as you yank the small pouch open.

"I'm gonna take care of myself. M'kay!" You backchat; drawing out your vibrator, tossing it to the head of the bed.

"Jesus, Y/n," he gripes. A mix of annoyance and lust.

Turning around, you slink your hand up his thigh, landing on his dick; a rough enough touch for him to suck in a little air. He looks down, eyeing your hand on him. He tilts his head slightly, a wicked smile rolling across his lips.

"Get out, baby. Don't worry. I'll be fast. I'd hate to be only three hours and fifty-five minutes early. I mean Jesus Christ that'd be a fuckin' tragedy," you whisper; lips, brushing over his.

Looping your finger under your skirt you tug your panties over your hips watching as they fall to your feet, landing on Billy's foot. White lace atop his black leather boot.

He reaches for you again as you crawl onto the bed; his strong hand instantly tracing up your inner thigh; fingers, working softly over your slit as you move out of reach.

"5 minutes, baby. Then we're heading out," he smirks; continuing to fuck with you. He was already going to cave, the second he stepped into the room; you know exactly what he is waiting for... He wants you to beg.

"Sounds good," you smile as you brush the straps of your dress off your shoulders, letting the paisley material fall; exposing your white lace bra.

Billy's eyes darken; he wets his bottom lip with a smile.

You reach around your back, unclasping your bra; flicking it to the side. Your breasts bounce as you find the perfect position on the mattress. Billy smirks, casting his gaze away; shaking his head dizzily.

Relaxing into the pillows, you draw your legs up. Guiding the vibrator to your pussy you slide it effortlessly along your slick.

Now who's teasing who, Hargrove?

"You wouldn't." His eyes snap to yours.

"I would," you breathe as you flick it on, pressing the soft tip through your entrance. Your breath catches as you're met with rotations and vibrations; the toy starts to work its magic on you Your eyes shut softly.

Your hand drifts up your body gradually; fingers, reaching the blush of your breast, tracing your nipple slowly. Proceeding to the other side you tweak your nipple, rolling softly. A breathy moan slips your lips.

You can hear his feet, nearing your side of the bed. His presence is palpable; breathing softly. Billy's cologne delights your senses as well; warm vanilla, smoke, and leather, furthering your fire. An absolutely intoxicating scent.

"Fuck, Billy..." You whimper.

Do you say my name whenever you use your toys, baby?" He rasps.

"Oh my god," you sough; disregarding the question.

"Y/n; baby?" He breathes.

You turn it up a little higher; the buzzing noise loudens. Working the vibrator in and out, your thighs start to quiver.

He can hear how drenched you are; you, no longer frustrated, getting off on the idea of him it watching. "Shit," you hiss; flicking your eyes down, watching the blue shimmery silicone glimmering with your essence.

He's frustrated... You can see it in his eyes. A battle of stubbornness, wanting you to beg for him; wanting desperately to cave himself.

Your breathing starts to increase; your eyes shut again. Billy lets out a growl. His hand brushes yours; your eyes flick open watching as he mounts the bed; body hovering over you. Billy presses his lips against yours, taking the vibrator off your hands.

You smile against his lips; giggling delightedly. He draws it out fast, your breath escapes your chest.

"Billy! What the fuck?" You cry, breathlessly. He lets out a sinful chuckle against your lips, turning it off. "You're a fucking dick."

You push past him to stand up; Billy grabs your shoulder, forcing you back down on the bed, pressing you into the pillows roughly.

Fuck...

"You're stubborn, Y/n. And now, you're gonna beg."

You roll your eyes bringing your free hand up to your lips. Running two fingers along your tongue.

"The fuck I will..." You breathe; dragging your hand down to your cunt, continuing where you left off.

Billy steps off the bed, vibrator in hand; walking toward the door. "3 minutes, baby. Then we're heading out."

"Sounds good," you sing; pulling the drawer of your nightstand open roughly, allowing the knick-knacks to clatter inside; stopping Billy in his tracks.

"Mmm..." You whirr; drawing out a pink rabbit vibrator, turning it on.

BUZZ.

He turns around slowly, his eyes shifting to yours. You challenge him with your stare, lifting an eyebrow.

Billy walks toward you; eyes, driving into yours.

He stares down at you, watching you carefully as your pleasure begins to build again. Billy's rough finger meets your arm, tracing softly to your hand.

"Shit!" You gasp; Billy takes a rough grip on your wrist, taking you in shock.

"Drop. It."

"No."

"You're such a fucking brat," he snips; making you chuckle.

"A-And?" You stutter as your bliss builds.

"Why are you like this?" He laments; eyes, falling down your body; breasts jostling with each thrust of the toy.

"Why are you surprised?"

"God you're so fucking hot," he moans; his lips crash against yours; tongue swirling as you continue to play with yourself.

Billy pushes his hand between your thighs, taking it from you as you kiss; Billy, willingly accepts defeat. The only man you'll ever beg for. The man that owns your heart.

"Please don't stop," you plead; panting against his lips. You feel his smile, the two of you getting what you wanted.

"I love you, baby," he rasps.

"I love you too."

Billy thrusts it in at the perfect angle, the head of the vibration swirling against your G-spot; bunny ear; flicking at your clit.

Your stomach starts to coil; back, arching off the bed. "Are you gonna cum, Y/n?" Billy grunts as he continues to rut in and out.

"Mhmm," is all you can muster. "Fuck!" You whine as Billy turns it up higher. Your damn break; orgasm, ringing through your body as you flutter around the toy, moaning into your kiss.

"Holy shit... Fuck, Billy..." You ride the waves of your orgasm. Your body relaxes slightly; a little whimper releases against Billy's lips.

He moves lower on the bed, his pupils blown with lust. Billy dives his forearms underneath your thighs pulling you toward his lips.

More? Fuck...

He flattens his tongue, licking a line up your silk causing you to wail.

"Fuck, you're sweet," he moans; his eyes hooded. Billy curls his arms, forcing you closer as he locks onto your sensitive bud; sucking and flicking his tongue as you scream his name. He chuckles against your pussy.

Billy grabs your legs, slinging them over his shoulders. His fingers reach your skin; trailing dangerously close to where you're craving him most.

Reaching down you run your fingers through his hair, giving it a little tug. Billy groans, as a result, the vibrations make your eyes roll back.

His fingers swirl around your entrance, plunging in; one then two, a slight curl as you feel yourself nearing your peak again.

His thick fingers work against your g-spot causing you to dig your heels into his back. "Billy... I'm... I. Fuck!" Your second orgasm hits you harder than your first.

Billy continues to please you with a little more pressure, brushing his tongue from side to side as your body tightens around his fingers.

"Mmm... That's it, baby," he groans as you ride out your second release. Your heart, beating rapidly; reaching for a breath.

Billy presses his lips against your clit softly. His mouth, drifts higher and higher; showering you with kisses as he nears your lips.

You cup his cheeks, drawing him nearer. Billy kisses you deeply, relaxing his body into yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck you hug him tightly, craving his weight on top of you; the ultimate comfort.

"You are impossible," he grumbles; his lips, meeting your neck. He nips at your skin, just enough to pinch. You reach around, slapping him roughly on the ass. "Jesus," he whines; quickly returning to your lips.

"You're not giving me credit, Bills. I totally gave in."

"No, you didn't. Not until I fucking caved," he chuckles against your kiss.

"Mmm... That's true. So I won then?"

"No, I won, Y/n. The day I met you..." He buttons his lip, trying not to laugh.

"Ew..." You snicker; shaking your head 'no'. "That was so cheesy... " you bully.

He smiles warmly, giving you another kiss; a little softer, lingering a little longer. "You are perfect, Y/n," he sighs against your lips.

"So are you, Billy."

#billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove boyfriend #billy hargrove filth #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x female reader #billy x reader #smut writing #smut warning #stranger things smut

[disappointmentofthefam]

Love? Love. (part one)

(Andy Barber x reader)

summary- recently split from his wife, Andrew Stephen Barber, aka, Mr hotshot ADA daddy dilf, lives with his 14 year old son Jacob. All he has known since the tender age of 17 is Laurie, and their baby boy. Will his life change when a bright eyed and bushy tailed y/n moves in the house right opposite to his? More importantly, will it change for the better or the worse?

*contains adult themes, smut and age gap (reader is a senior in college, Andy is in his early thirties)*

Andy's sleep is rudely cut short by the whirring engine of packers and movers mixed with the commotion of workers walking back and forth, setting up the furniture.

His face grimaces as soon as he opens his eyes,

at seven fucking am on a sunday! fuck off!

Apparently-as he later finds out-a new family had just moved in the house opposite to his. From what he had heard from his best friend(and neighbor), Sam, the family had a son of around Jacob's age which was about perfect since Jacob was a shy kid and wasn't exactly Mr. popular with kids his age. maybe he would find a friend in the new kid

By the next weekend, Jacob and the kid, Tyler, were already friends and today Jacob had invited his friend to play video games together.

"Daaaaddd", Jacob whines, "Please don't embarrass me!"

Andy gasps dramatically ,"Are you ashamed of your old man!", he even goes as far as to clutch his chest, right where his heart is, "i knew this day would come, i just thought it would be fifty years from now when i am bound to a hospital bed and shit my pants every time i try to say a word with more than three syllables"

As Jacob rolls his eyes, laughing, the doorbell rings, "whatever old man, just behave or i won't buy you diapers when you're all old and 'bound to a bed'".

Tyler shyly greets Andy and the boys disappear into their boy cave. Andy decides to settle down for a movie from the comfort of his couch. He can already imagine what Sam would say if he found out about Andy's weekend plans

are you seriously wasting all that good-good on a couch? Let's go out man , find you a pretty girl, you need to get out of this 'grandma' routine

Sam wouldn't get it ,he was married, happily so, and had a baby girl with the woman of his dreams. "Between the two of those pretty girls, i don't stand a chance"- he'd say

It wasn't that easy for Andy to navigate the modern dating world, there were too many 'what ifs' and not enough 'why nots' for him to fall in love again

what if he's a one night?

what if he catches feelings and she doesn't? what if he finds someone perfect only to find out he's incapable of feeling love again?

oh shit, worse yet- what if he was a reboun-

His thoughts are interrupted by the ringing doorbell, jesus can't a man watch the godfather for the millionth time in peace?

"Hi, Mr. Barber"

Andy's breath hitches, "Hi there"

"I would shake your hand but mine are full", she giggles.

Andy's heart does a backflip at her laugh as he shakily reaches out to take the four tupperware boxes from her.

"I'm y/n", she gives him a sweet smile, "I'm Tyler's sister and we just wanted to thank you for inviting him over, god knows we needed the break! Teenagers, amirite", she looks up at him with those big doe eyes.

Snapping out of the trance, Andy invites her in, "Come in............uh",

"Y/n"

Andy's chest is filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling

Names are so intimate, Y/n, while he asks her to come in, Y/n, he asks her to sit, Y/n, as he brews her a cup of coffee.

Andy, as her eyes sparkle when she realizes the movie he has on, Andy, as she tells him she cooked all the treats she brought him tonight

"So", Andy strikes up the conversation as they settle on the couch, "i've heard that you tutor children?"

"Oh, yes, It's just to earn a little before i graduate, besides, my god complex is fulfilled while teaching people", she jokes.

Andy doesn't remember the last time he was so interested in a conversation that wasn't about work or crime, or both, really.

An hour later, they are way past formalities, talking about everything and nothing, as if they were old friends.

Her mouth agape, she looks at him in utter disbelief, "He got away with it?" ,Andy can't believe she's so engrossed in his work stories, Laurie had always told him to keep his work where it belonged-in his office.

"Tyler and i should leave now, it's getting late, mom will be mad if we're late for dinner"

Andy's heart sinks why did she have to leave

"Alright sweetheart", he says lowly, "it was a pleasure to have your company".

Y/n smiles bashfully 'sweetheart'

did he mean it? no way! he must have a thousand women worshipping at his feet, he's the fucking ADA, he's single, he's hot and don't even get me started on that smile-

Focus Y/n!!

Andy notices the hitch in her breath, the sudden tint on her cheeks and the way her shy eyes try to look anywhere but at him

a straight up filthy image crosses his mind-

you, laying naked on his bed, all spread out for him, whining as he sucked between your petals

you, closing your eyes bashfully as the head of his thick cock lines up with your wet, tight hole

he would have no qualms with slapping your face lightly, "look at daddy while he's fucking you open"

"look at me baby, look at who's making you feel so good"

he'd kiss your pouting lips, "my dumb little baby can't think with daddy's cock inside her, ca-

okay Andy, She's a smart and beautiful twenty-one year old girl, she must have boys falling at her feet, the last thing she'd want is you.

As she and Tyler leave, Andy can't help the stupid smile on his face

"dad?, you good there?"

Andy snaps out of the trance, "yeah kid"

"phew! With that shit eating grin, you almost had me convinced that you had shat you pants"

OH THIS LITTLE ASSHO-

author's note: heyyyyyyy girlies, i purposefuly made the first chapter short and vague so i can take the story forward as you'd like me to! Please do leave suggestions!!! nothing is off limits to me

#andy barber x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #andy barber smut #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans characters #lloyd hansen #loyd hansen x reader

[kittenofdoomage]

Obeying Temptation

Summary: She’s not a good Christian girl by any stretch, but he might still have some fun corrupting her.

Pairing: Alpha!Demon!Dean x Omega!female!reader

Word Count: 8481

Warnings: soooo much blasphemy, religious themes, smut (incl. fingering, full penetrative sex and oral sex), A/B/O (incl. scenting, knotting, marking, mentions of bodily fluids), angst, drama, demonic possession, mentions of breeding kink, dirty talk, derogatory names, hands on throats, biting, bruising, abandonment, slight dubcon and implied murder of religious clergymen, ambiguous ending

Ao3 Link

Author Note: Happy New Year everyone, enjoy some blasphemy before 2023 kicks in 😈

Church had always felt like a chore. In truth, it was more her mom’s thing than Y/N’s, but she obeyed the rules of her mother’s house, since she was stuck living there until she could find a job that paid better than minimum wage. Every Sunday, she put on one of the hideous Sears dresses her Aunt Margaret sent every birthday and followed her mother to church. Her mom didn’t make her sit at the front with the rest of the gossipy old ladies that liked to speculate on the love lives of the other attendees, at least.

It was hard not to zone out when Father Taggart droned on about the importance of community and keeping Jesus in your heart, and if she could have gotten away with it, she would have played on her phone until the service was done. She’d never understood the purpose of “God’s House”, preferring to believe His house was everywhere, seeing as he was supposed to be ubiquitous. 

Today’s sermon was more of the same. Y/N sat away from most of the other parishioners, listening as the greying vicar rambled through Matthew 22-something, her attention wandering around the stone archways of the old building. As her eyes drifted, she noticed someone in the darkness to the left near the confessionals, a good few meters away from the pews.

He stepped forward, white collar catching her gaze first. Another priest? she wondered, and his eyes met hers. A smile tugged at his lips but it was nothing like the smile she would expect to see on a vicar’s face. This smile was calculating, cunning… predatory. Despite the distance between them, she could tell he was an Alpha, unusual for a man of the cloth; she wished she could see him more clearly but he was almost entirely bathed in shadows.

“And now, I would like to invite a new voice to speak,” Father Taggart announced, and Y/N dragged her eyes from the shadowy priest to the front again, though she could feel him watching her still. “May I introduce Father Crowley, who will be standing in for Father Grayson now he has retired.”

She remembered Father Grayson, though she’d only met him a few times when she’d picked her mom up from her Wednesday night prayer group. He was at least a hundred years old, she was sure of it, bent double and hair as white as snow. Maybe he should have retired a few years earlier.

The man who stepped up with a polite nod at Father Taggart was in his late forties, or maybe early fifties - she was never very good at judging age. He had dark hair and a slightly unkempt beard, but she supposed he was attractive. For a priest.

“Thank you, Father Taggart,” the newcomer crooned, his British accent making a few of the older ladies whisper among themselves. “It is a pleasure to be speaking to you all today. As he explained, myself and Father Winchester will be standing in for Father Grayson until a suitable permanent replacement can be found.” He smiled, looking out upon his audience. “I’m sure we will feel right at home in your wonderful parish.”

Y/N glanced back to the shadows, wondering if the mysterious Alpha was Father Winchester, but he was gone. She shuddered, feeling a chill in the air as Father Taggart gave Father Crowley a further welcome, then called everyone to stand for the last hymn.

Hymns had always been the part of church she enjoyed. Singing in general was a hobby, one to be practised away from anyone who would hear her, so hymns offered her a way to sing without being singled out in a crowd. The church organ player situated herself, then began to play as Father Taggart instructed the mass to turn to Holy God, We Praise Thy Name.

The mysterious priest didn’t appear again.

It always took forever to get her mom in the car after services, usually because she was still chatting with her friends. Y/N hung around the grassy front, toying with her keys as she waited, listening to her mom pass comment on the “hot new priest”.

“You know he’s still twenty years younger than you, right?” she called out, making her mom glare in her direction.

Agnes, her mom’s best friend, prodded her. “Did you see that other one?”

“No?” Her mom frowned, glancing over at her daughter. “There was another one?”

“Mmhmm,” Agnes nodded. “Younger. Very handsome. Maybe Y/N…”

“Oh, god, Agnes, please,” Y/N interjected, holding a hand up to stop the older woman. “I’m not interested in any guys, priests or not. Besides, I thought they’re supposed to be celibate?”

Agnes and her mom chuckled. “That’s a common misconception,” her mom advised, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Trust me.”

“I don’t wanna know,” she mumbled, scrunching up her face in disgust.

“Oh come now, dear,” Agnes chided softly, “you can’t expect to live at home forever. We all have a body clock, you know, Omegas most of all.”

It was difficult not to roll her eyes at the outdated opinion, so she decided not to engage in yet another discussion about how Omegas weren’t just breeding sows. Jingling the keys, she turned her attention to her mother, giving her a tight smile. “Can we get going, Mom? I wanna enjoy the rest of my weekend.”

Her mom rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Agnes.”

“Take care, Judith. Goodbye, Y/N!”

“Bye,” Y/N muttered, already marching towards the car. Judith followed at a leisurely pace, ignoring the impatience of her daughter as she climbed into the passenger seat. Turning the key in the engine, Y/N glanced back to check the rear of the vehicle, making sure she didn’t hit the black classic parked behind her.

“Agnes is only worried, you know,” her mom started.

“Mom -”

“I know, I know, none of my business. But I would like to see a grandchild…”

Y/N gritted her teeth. “Mom.”

Judith went quiet, clamping her mouth shut with a grin. Y/N pulled the car out of the spot and sped off, hoping that her stern tone was enough to put the subject to bed. They were silent the whole way home, and when they got inside, Y/N retreated to her room to lose herself in something distracting.

By Monday morning, she’d forgotten most of the encounter, and began her week at work with a smile. Her job kept her busy, and though she hated the majority of her duties, she liked that it occupied her mind and she never had to take it home with her.

Sunday rolled around with a storm, the second of the week. The weather had been all kinds of crazy since summer had hit, and when she arrived at church with her mother, they had to run in to avoid getting drenched. Judith toddled off to her usual spot, and Y/N, once again, found sanctuary at the back. It was emptier than usual, likely due to the rain, and she could hear it on the church roof above the crowd.

Father Crowley stood at the front, waiting for everyone to get settled, and when Y/N looked around, she couldn’t see Father Taggart. Her mom was sitting with Agnes, both of them whispering to each other, and they fell silent when Father Crowley called for quiet.

“I have some grave news to give you all today,” he began, and several parishioners sat up straighter. “Father Taggart has been taken ill, so he will not be conducting service today. I would like to ask you all to hold him in your prayers, and hope for a full recovery.”

Y/N tensed, a new scent tickling her nose. The pew she was sitting on was empty save for her, and she looked to either side, searching for the source of the smell. It was thick and rich, invading her senses, inexplicably Alpha.

Movement from the darkness at the left of the church caught her eye. She focused, seeing him standing in the shadows by the door that led out to the graveyard, and for a second, she could have sworn his eyes were black. Her hands shook as she clutched the church-copy of the bible, unable to take her eyes off of him.

Father Crowley was speaking again, delivering a sermon every inch as boring as Father Taggart’s, and Y/N wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention. She stared at the mysterious priest in the shadows, feeling her heart rate speed up, and a light sweat broke out on her forehead. Her lips parted as she panted lightly, suddenly aware of what was happening.

She needed air.

Getting to her feet, she tried not to stumble, being as quiet as possible as she headed for the main entrance. No one seemed to pay her much attention, most of them listening to Father Crowley, so she escaped unnoticed, closing the door behind her.

It was still raining. The only thing that protected her was the awning over the doorway. She didn’t care, gulping down fresh air as she tried to control herself. “It’s too early,” she muttered, shaking her head.

The door opened behind her. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” It was her mom, and Y/N turned, nodding.

“It’s fine, Mom, I’ll just go wait in the car.”

Judith didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?” she whispered. “It’s Sunday, it might be a while.”

“Can I help you, ladies?”

The low rough voice made them both turn, and Y/N almost yelped at the sight of the mysterious priest. In the dull light of the storm, she could see every detail of his handsome features, and her mouth went dry as she drank in all six feet of him. “My daughter isn’t feeling well,” Judith explained before she could stop her.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Y/N insisted. “I can wait in the car.”

“If you’re feeling unwell, you can sit in the rectory until service is finished,” the priest offered.

Judith smiled, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh, Father Winchester, that would put my mind at ease.” She glanced at her daughter. “I don’t think you’ve met yet. Y/N, this is -”

“Father Winchester,” Y/N whispered, staring at him. “I’d really be okay in my car.”

Her mom frowned then, reaching out to take her hand. “Please, Y/N, I’d be happier if you weren’t alone out here.”

She wanted to scream. Father Winchester was an Alpha, though her Beta mother wouldn’t scent it. He smiled at her, and she felt a thread of fear knot in her stomach. “It’s only next door,” he said smoothly, gesturing to the covered walkway that ran around the side of the old building. “Your mother can come and find you when she’s done.”

Her mother’s pleading gaze made her heart drop. She nodded reluctantly, and Judith beamed, clasping her hands over Y/N’s, tilting her head as she gazed at the priest gratefully.

“Thank you so much, Father,” she gushed, patting her daughter’s hand before scurrying back inside.

Father Winchester held out an arm, gesturing to the footpath. “It’s this way.” He stepped off, and Y/N followed. His scent filled her mouth and nose, making her stomach churn, and she couldn’t help staring at his muscular frame from behind him.

The rectory was a neat little house behind the church and the graveyard, far enough away from the other buildings that it was eerily silent. It was still raining, less enthusiastically than it had been before, but enough for her to feel her clothes getting wet as she followed the priest across the back of the graveyard. He paused after he’d opened the front door, holding it for her to slip past, and she felt a chill as she did. The door closed behind him, turning to face her as she hovered in the hallway.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked politely. It felt forced, and his intense stare made her insides quiver.

“Uh, sure.”

He smiled - the same predatory look he’d given her before. “The kitchen is through here.” Leading with his hand, he didn’t wait for her to follow, though she did, letting her gaze travel over the aged wallpaper and the few old pictures hanging on the walls. Most of them were religious or with the church itself as a subject, and for a moment, she wondered if Father Taggart was home, seeing as he was ill.

“How is Father Taggart?” she asked curiously. “Father Crowley said he was taken ill.”

Father Winchester barely spared her a glance as he filled the kettle with water, placing it on the stove top. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he muttered, his tone indicating a lack of regard for the man in question.

“Where is he?” she pushed, hoping that she wasn’t alone in the house with such an odd man.

He turned his head, grinning at her. “He left this morning. Staying with relatives in Florida. Warmer air.”

It sounded like he was mocking her, but she couldn’t see what the point would be, so she shrugged and let it go, looking around the kitchen for somewhere to sit. There was definitely space for a dining table and chairs in there but the space they could have occupied was empty.

“How are you feeling now?” the Father asked.

His question caught her off-guard. “Uh, okay, I guess,” she stammered, hugging herself for some small measure of comfort. “Probably allergies.” She was lying through her teeth; the gentle ache beginning in her belly told her exactly what was happening.

He hummed like he didn’t quite believe her. “Are you sure?” he pressed, turning to face her. “Lying is a sin, Y/N.”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head hurriedly, fighting the urge to back up and show his intimidation of her. She dropped her hands to her sides, trying to appear casual. “Well, I mean, storms kick up all sorts of allergens,” she managed, shrugging.

Father Winchester sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “You know, I gave you the chance there,” he scolded softly. “But I can see you’re going to be difficult about it.”

A lump formed in her throat. “About what?” she rasped, feigning innocence.

“I can smell you.”

The statement made her freeze, and she met his eyes like a frightened rabbit. He was facing her now, stalking her almost, and even though he was scaring the crap out of her, a tiny part of her was sending a thrill down her spine. His eyes shone as he stepped closer, and her knees trembled.

“Been able to smell you since you got out of your car,” he continued, coming closer still. “Sweet. Ripe. Just begging to be plucked.”

“Father Winchester, I -”

He scoffed, silencing her. “It’s Dean.”

She frowned at the odd correction, never knowing a priest to be so informal. But then, she’d never known one to be this inappropriate toward her. “This is wrong,” she whispered, finally backing away from him, only to find cupboards at her back two steps later. He was so close now, close enough to grab her, close enough that he was blocking any escape.

A smirk curled his lips, making him even more devastatingly handsome. “Then why can I smell how wet you are, sweetheart?”

Y/N whimpered, pressing herself into the cupboard door. “You shouldn’t be acting like this,” she denied. “You’re a priest, a man of the cloth -”

He was suddenly up against her, and she sucked in a breath, words fading as his scent overwhelmed her. “I’m an Alpha,” he murmured, reaching up to cup her face with one huge hand. “You’re an Omega. I know you feel it, I know you want it.”

She shook her head, her only struggle against his hold. He chuckled, leaning in like he was going to kiss her and she knew she should have resisted but she didn’t. His face got closer and right as he was about to brush his lips over hers, he went left, pressing his cheek to hers instead. The hand at her jaw tugged at her jacket, pulling it down until her bare shoulder and throat were exposed.

“I wouldn’t force myself on you, Y/N,” he crooned, mouth right against the shell of her ear. “It’s so much more satisfying to watch you try to fight it.” He chuckled, running the tips of his fingers up over her bare arm. “And you’re going to beg for my knot before long.” His fingers slid over her shoulder and up to her throat, stroking over the spot where an Alpha would lay his claim.

A shudder ran up her spine, and she could feel wetness in her panties. No doubt he could smell it, how aroused she was just from a few moments in his presence. “I don’t -” Her mouth was so dry, she couldn’t speak. Working some saliva up, she managed a tiny whine, and Dean pulled back to look her in the eye.

“Try again,” he ordered softly.

“I don’t think th-this is appropriate,” she stammered, too aware of the hand still lingering on her throat.

“Why not?” he teased, grinning at her. “Your body wants it. Every second, your scent’s gettin’ stronger, princess.”

This is wrong, this is wrong, she chanted in her mind but already she was imagining it, conjuring fantasies based on the hard lines of his body that held her against the cupboard. “Please,” she keened desperately.

“Please, what?”

The kettle began to shrill loudly, and the tension in the room snapped. Dean stepped away, leaving her to crumple in on herself, and she panted against the cupboard, watching him as he continued to make the tea.

She wondered for a second if she’d imagined it but her jacket was still hanging halfway down her shoulder, and she could still feel his touch on her skin. Her panties were soaked through, and when she straightened, she felt the ache in her belly turning raw.

The front door opened, and she heard her mother’s voice. Relief swept through her, but Dean didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the arrival of company.

“Oh, of course, Father, we understand,” Judith was practically swooning over him, “after all, safety comes first.”

“Absolutely, my child,” Father Crowley replied and the front door shut loudly. “Now let’s see where your daughter has gotten to.” His voice got louder as they approached the kitchen, and when he entered, he smiled at you. “Here she is.” He glanced at the other priest. “Safe and sound.”

Judith didn’t notice the odd tone he spoke with, but Y/N did. She stood still as her mother came closer and began to fuss, pressing one hand to her daughter’s forehead. “Oh dear,” she mumbled, flustering a little as she realized what was ailing the younger woman. “I suppose we should get you home.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Father Crowley interjected, glaring at Father Winchester, who smirked back.

“Thank you for looking after her, Father,” Judith cooed, smiling at both men.

“Take good care of her, won’t you?” Dean requested, all charm as he stared right at Y/N. She swallowed down a whimper, ducking her head so her mother didn’t see her reaction to him. “She’s a very special girl.”

Her mother clutched her chest, giving him an adoring look. “I will, Father Winchester,” she promised, taking Y/N’s hand but her daughter was already moving, desperate to get away from the scent of him. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” Judith admonished, making her freeze in her tracks.

She turned back, stomach churning, palms getting sweaty. “Thank you, Father,” she mumbled, curtseying like she was a child at Sunday School.

“I’ll keep you in my prayers,” he replied, a filthy smirk on his lips.

Judith didn’t linger this time, following as her daughter dashed for the door and out into the fresh air. The door closed behind them, and Crowley turned to Dean, arching one eyebrow in his direction.

“Feeling a little more enthusiastic about this?” he taunted. “Though you’re behind. I’ve already got three in the bag, what’s so special about this one?”

Dean’s smirk grew. “Didn’t you smell her?”

Crowley hummed. “Not something I’d be attuned to,” he shrugged. “This meatsuit’s a Beta.”

“You’re missing out,” Dean chuckled. “All she needs is a little push and she’ll be begging.”

“Seems like a waste of time.”

The younger man growled. “I thought we were here to have fun.”

“We are,” Crowley confirmed hesitantly. “I just thought it was a little more damning of little old ladies and less chasing tail.”

Dean snorted, rolling his eyes. “Whatever floats your boat. We should get rid of Taggart. He’s gonna start stinking up the joint.”

She’d been mistaken in thinking getting away from Father Winchester would slow her predicament. If anything, by the time she arrived home, the heat was getting stronger. Her mother parked the car and ushered her out, ordering her to her room to rest while promising noodle soup.

Usually, she’d sleep through most of a heat, ensconced in her personal space, and it would be over within three or four days. Even at her age and unmated, she managed them easily, but this one was early, way off her regular cycle. It felt stronger too, crippling her in hours, and by the time her mom brought her soup, she was at the point of begging for unconsciousness. Judith was concerned - Y/N dismissed it, assuring her mother she only needed rest and sending her away.

Every time she closed her eyes, Dean’s face, his scent, tormented her.

Monday didn’t bring any improvement. She strayed from her nest only to use the bathroom, snacking on comfort foods and watching shows when she wasn’t sleeping. Her mom checked in before she went out, and while she was gone, Y/N used the private time to take the edge off, cursing herself when she imagined Dean being the one to satisfy her.

She fell short of satisfying herself, only succeeding making the longing worse.

On Tuesday, her mom was home, and expressed a desire to call the doctor, but Y/N waved her off again. Her fever was beginning to break, she just had to ride it out.

In the afternoon, someone knocked at the door, the noise disturbing her sleep. She laid in her bed, listening as her mother greeted whoever it was, and for a moment, the low voice that answered didn’t register. When she realized who it was, she bolted upright, staring at the door in horror as she heard them coming up the stairs.

Her mother knocked at her door seconds later, and Y/N snatched the covers, pulling them up to her chin. The door opened without her consent - nothing unusual for Judith - and she stepped in alone, even though Y/N could smell Dean just outside in the hall.

“Y/N,” she murmured, “Father Winchester has come to check in on you.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Y/N grunted back. “I’d rather not -”

“Nonsense,” she insisted. “Maybe prayer will help take your mind off of it.”

The utter disregard the older woman suddenly had was alarming, but Y/N didn’t have a chance to question it as Father Winchester entered, smirking at her. Judith smiled, glancing over at her daughter as she wilted in the bed.

“I’ve got to run into town. Will you two be okay?” Judith asked, ignoring the horror on Y/N’s face.

“I’m sure I can assist Y/N with whatever she needs,” Dean drawled, still grinning, eyes locked on her. It didn’t appear that Judith caught his double meaning at all, as she quickly retreated, leaving her Omega daughter to the Alpha’s mercy. He waited until he heard her reach the bottom of the stairs, then he pushed the door almost closed, licking his lips. “Mmm,” he exhaled, “I can taste you in the air, pretty thing.”

“I could shout,” she threatened quietly. “Mom will -”

“Go ahead,” he dared. “But I already know, you won’t. Because you’ve been thinking about me for three days.”

Her cheeks flushed with fresh heat but she held his gaze in defiance. He tucked his tongue behind his teeth, his expression mocking her, and she scowled, hating the fact that he was having an effect on her.

Downstairs, the front door shut, leaving them alone.

Dean moved closer, lowering himself onto the bed by her thighs. He didn’t touch her, but his proximity was enough to make her tense, the desire in her belly growing stronger with every whiff of his scent. “Don’t worry,” he soothed, lifting his chin. “I won’t touch you unless you ask nicely.”

She ground her teeth together. That same tiny part of her that had sprung up back at the rectory, the Judas in her soul that made her quiver at just his voice; it was screaming now, pleading with her to give in. Keeping her mouth shut, she focused on remaining still, unreactive to his presence.

“Ooo, hard to get, huh?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Your scent betrays what you’re craving, baby. I bet you’ve cum half a dozen times on those useless plastic knots.” He looked around the room, obviously looking for evidence. “Where do you hide them?”

Y/N kept her eyes on him, unwilling to give away her secret.

“Gotta be somewhere mommy won’t find,” he continued, getting to his feet again. “She’s so nice. I doubt she knows what a little cockslut her daughter truly is.”

Her stomach clenched, and she looked down at her knees underneath the quilt. Dean laughed again, wandering over to her dresser. He smoothed one long hand along the top of it, glancing back at her in amusement.

“No, not in here, too obvious,” he mused aloud, scanning the room. Spying her closet, he strode over to it, opening the doors. He inspected it without touching anything, looking back at her again to check her reaction. She continued to keep her eyes down, chewing her lip to silence herself. “Not even gonna give me a hint?”

The rise he wanted wasn’t forthcoming though he didn’t seem bothered by her refusal to play his game. He stalked closer, trying to get her to look at him. She kept her head down, resisting, but when his knee hit the bed, she couldn’t stop her eyes darting towards where her shoebox lay.

Dropping to one knee, he reached under the bed, finding the only thing that was under there. He pulled the box out, glancing up to see her shameful expression, and he knew he had his prize.

“Let’s see,” he hummed, tugging the lid off.

Y/N only owned two toys, a vibrating wand and a dildo. Dean went for the dildo first, holding it up in scrutiny as she tried to will her bed to swallow her whole.

“Oh, baby. You’re in for a treat.” He clicked his tongue, smirking at her. “This is tiny.” It hit the floor with a thud that made her flinch. “But this one might be useful.” He dropped the shoebox, throwing the wand onto the bed; it landed between her knees. “Which one do you like best?”

She hesitated. He waited patiently, staring at her, and she shivered, letting the covers fall to her shoulders. “I-if I tell you… you won’t hurt me, right?”

A frown dampened his smile. “Do you think I’m going to hurt you, Omega?”

The use of the title made her shiver again. Her whole body ached, the arousal becoming unbearable and only enhanced by the scent of a potent Alpha so close. “I don’t know,” she confessed.

“I told you - I won’t touch you until you ask me to,” he repeated.

“Th-the wand,” she rushed out, and his smile returned. “The kn - the other one feels too fake.”

He chuckled, tilting his head a little. “Tell me the truth, princess,” he moved closer, sitting on the bed again, this time on the opposite side, “have you ever taken a real Alpha knot in that sweet little cunt of yours?”

She couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped. “Yes,” she whispered. “Once.”

“Lemme guess,” he mused, tapping his chin with one finger. “Highschool sweetheart. Thought he was the one, only for him to pop your cherry and leave you high and dry, right?” Her gaze dropped, and he took it for confirmation, laughing lightly. “Oh, darlin’, I’m gonna blow your mind when I get inside you.”

His words were so crude, so unbecoming of a priest. No one had ever spoken to her like that and she was ashamed to find his filthy expressions arousing. “Y-you said you wouldn’t force me.”

“I won’t,” he assured her. “I told you, you’ll beg me for it.”

Faking bravado, she lifted her chin, staring at him. “How do you know?”

“Because you’ve got my scent now,” he breathed, “Omega.” She shuddered, unable to suppress it, and fresh warmth invaded the space between her thighs. “See? Just my voice makes your pussy clench, doesn’t it? How many times have you imagined me fucking you to get off?” She whimpered, breaking eye contact. “Honesty, Y/N.”

“A lot,” she rasped truthfully, because she hadn’t counted.

He grinned triumphantly. “You wanna cum right now, don’t you?” She nodded, clenching her hands in the covers. “Then pick up your little toy and make yourself cum.”

The idea of refusing floated in her mind but she was so aroused she could feel it soaking the sheets underneath her ass. Dean watched her, green eyes hungry as they fixed on her, and before she could contemplate what she was doing, she pulled one hand out from the quilt and grabbed the wand.

He sat back a little, hands in his lap. Swallowing hard, Y/N hid the wand under the covers, turning it on so he could hear it, sliding it between her thighs. It didn’t even occur to her to fake it, and when the vibrating head touched her clit through her thin panties, she whined loudly.

“That’s it,” he purred, rubbing his crotch through his black slacks. “Aren’t you warm under all that?”

Desire controlled her, overriding her common sense. She pushed the covers down, shifting so she was a little flatter before pressing the wand to her sex again. Dean was stroking himself through his pants now, watching her as she writhed against the stimulation.

“I think you’d cum quicker if you took your panties off,” he suggested.

She nodded, too lust-drunk to fight it anymore, and in a few seconds, her panties were off and across the room. Dean watched as she spread her legs, bringing the wand’s head to right where she needed it. The intense need in her core only got her to the edge quicker, and she shuddered through an orgasm under the priest’s stare, feeling shameful as the pleasure subsided.

“Did that feel good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whimpered, legs still twitching as she pulled the wand away and turned it off. Her cunt clenched around nothing, and she squirmed, desperate to feel more friction. Dean’s gaze dropped to her slick pussy, and he bit his lip, obviously restraining himself. The realization dawned on her that she didn’t want him to show control… she wanted him to touch her. “Please,” she forced out, chest heaving and breath coming in short pants. “Touch me.”

His lips curled into a sly smile and he chuckled. “Told you so,” he murmured, reaching out to slide his hand over her knee and up her bare thigh. “But you need to be specific. Where should I touch you, Y/N?”

“M-my,” she hesitated, feeling the warmth of his hand so close to where she wanted it, “my pussy.”

He grinned. “You learn quick,” he muttered, finally cupping her sex with his hand. She groaned, unwittingly canting her hips into his palm. “Oh, you’re so wet and warm, little Omega.” A finger dipped inside her, making her mewl pitifully, but he only laughed, teasing her with a little more of it. “Tell me what you want now.”

“I want -” She stopped, licking her lips as her breathing got heavier. “I want you to make me cum.”

“Like this?” He thrust his finger into her up to the knuckle, and she cried out, clutching the sheets underneath her. “So tight too,” he groaned. “You’re going to burn me alive.”

She twisted, nodding desperately. “P-please, more.”

He fucked the single digit into her, letting her body adjust before he penetrated her with the second. Her voice became hoarse, and her cunt throbbed around him, slicking every stroke as he opened her up. His wrist twisted, allowing him to press his thumb to her clit, and her whole body trembled.

“Just opening up for me,” he praised, looking down at her hungrily as he kept his fingers moving at a steady pace. “I bet you’ll gush all over my hand, won’t you, dirty little whore Omega? Look at you, all ready to beg for what you really want.” She moaned and nodded, rocking her hips in time with his thrusts. “Wonder how hard you’ll cum with my knot stretching that perfect little cunt out? You wanna feel my seed in your belly?”

It was too much. With a hoarse shout, she came, clenching hard around his fingers as he held them deep, his thumb continuing to work at her clit until she was dripping down his wrist. She was crying with pleasure, unable to vocalize anything as she shuddered from head to toe, and when Dean pulled his hand away, her legs collapsed, leaving her in a messy heap, eyes closed and chest heaving.

She could hear him lick his fingers clean.

“What do you want now, Y/N?” he taunted, leaning over her. She whimpered, opening her eyes to look up at him.

“Want your knot, Alpha,” she keened, reaching for him.

He tisked, pulling away before she could touch him. “That’s not good enough,” he chided, shaking his head and smirking at her. “If you want it that bad, you’ll come and get it.”

“Wait,” she mumbled, pushing up onto weak arms as he walked around the bed. “Where are you going?”

“Not far,” he replied mockingly, pausing at the door. “Like I said, if you want it that bad…” He trailed off and shrugged, disappearing out of the door. Y/N scrambled to follow, reaching the doorway with only her t-shirt on, but as she stepped out into the hall, it was empty. Father Winchester was gone.

She stared, pouting at nothing. Had she imagined it in some sort of heat fever? No, she could smell him, feeling his lingering touch in her most intimate places - how could he leave her like that? He’d watched her get herself off, made her cum with the briefest of touches, and then he just… vanished?

With her climax, her heat was given a brief reprieve, and her judgment became a little less clouded. She knew what Father Winchester - Dean - was doing. It was immoral and wrong and why was she still craving him? She should have been disgusted with herself, she should have thrown him out, she should have -

But she hadn’t. She’d let him make her cum and she’d enjoyed every second of it.

Shame washed over her. She retreated back to her room, covering her face with her hands as she made a frustrated noise. All she could think about was him, all she wanted was him. It felt like he’d cursed her, when all he’d really done was talk dirty, and she’d broken like a twig.

Maybe she should let his superior know what he was doing. She was fairly certain priests weren’t supposed to seduce their parishioners, especially not with the ferocity Dean displayed. Except… except then he might be made to stop, and that tiny part of her from before was getting bigger and louder by the minute.

She dressed quickly, repeating the same cycle of thoughts in her head. They weren’t really doing anything wrong. He wasn’t the celibate kind of priest, and she was a single unmated Omega. Their only sin was sex before marriage, which she’d never exactly been big on, judging by the three guys she’d actually slept with in college.

By the time she was dressed, she almost had herself convinced. At the bottom of the stairs, she grabbed her coat and keys, pleased her mother hadn’t taken the car. When she opened the front door, she knew what she was going to do, and she was at peace with it.

The church was quiet when she pulled up, the windows sparkling in the afternoon sun. Y/N sat in her car, nibbling at her finger as she watched the door, concerned someone would see her. There didn’t seem to be any sign of life, so she climbed out, taking careful steps up to the door to try the handle. She wasn’t surprised when it opened, and she slipped inside, closing it behind her.

Inside was empty. At the far end by the altar, candles burned, and the smell of frankincense hung in the air. Moving forward, she listened out for anyone lurking, slowly heading for the front pews.

The door clicked loudly behind her. She turned, seeing Dean with his hand on the lock, and he turned his head, lips curled in another filthy smirk. His eyes were dark, almost black, she thought, but when she blinked they were normal. Dismissing it as a trick of the light, she turned to face him, unconsciously holding a breath.

“Well, well,” he chuckled, swiping a thumb across his full lower lip. “You didn’t waste any time.” He strolled towards her, bumping his hand off of each pew as he went. “It’s barely been an hour.”

She bit her lip, watching him draw closer. There was weakness in her knees, and her heart pounded in her chest so hard, she thought it might burst. Dean chuckled, slowing to a stop just within reach.

“Father Winchester,” she whispered, trying not to sink to her knees. He bared his teeth and she swallowed. “Dean.”

“Try again.”

A shuddering breath left her lips. “Alpha.”

He hummed, reaching out to grasp her chin in his fingers. “Yes?”

She knew what he wanted, what she had to say in order to get what she wanted, what her body was craving like an addict. Still, she struggled to get the words out, unused to expressing her sexual needs aloud. “I need... I need your knot,” she whimpered.

He tisked, releasing her. “Not good enough.”

Her legs gave out, and she dropped with a frustrated cry. “Please,” she wailed, “please, Alpha, I need it. Need you to knot me.” Dean groaned, palming his crotch, looking down at her hungrily. Y/N lifted her head, panting as she pleaded with him. “Need you to fuck me.”

His jaw hung half open as he tore at the buckle of his pants, pulling his half-hard cock free. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, watching as his erection thickened and filled out, the bulge of his knot obvious at the base. “You’re learning,” he mumbled, stroking himself as he stepped closer. “Open up.”

She obeyed, kneeling a little straighter as he offered himself to her, tapping the heavy crown against her bottom lip.

“Wider.”

Her jaw ached already but she did as she was told, instinctively brushing her tongue across the weeping head. His taste was tangy on her tongue, and she swallowed it down, lifting one hand to touch him. He didn’t resist, watching with his chin tucked into his chest as she took the initiative and started to explore his shaft with her tongue.

“Keep going,” he murmured, stroking her face before cupping the side of her head. “That’s it. Good little cocksucker.”

She moaned around him, feeling her own body respond to what she was doing. Her pussy throbbed and her skin prickled with heat, and her movements became more enthusiastic, much to the Alpha’s delight.

“Take it deeper,” he instructed, and she complied, eager to please him. His cockhead nudged the back of her throat and she gagged, pulling away at the fear of throwing up. Dean stopped her going far, quickly tugging her back. “Keep trying,” he ordered. “You’ll get used to it.”

Cautiously, she opened her mouth again, feeling the weight of him on her tongue. He thrust forward a little, and she swallowed, concentrating hard to control her gag reflex. Dean moaned as she kept doing it, rocking his hips to keep up the pressure.

“Fuck, you got a sweet mouth,” he groaned. “But I bet your pussy feels even better.”

He pulled away without warning, and Y/N spluttered as she landed on her hands, gasping down air. Dean’s hand slipped around her upper arm, pulling her to her feet; she stumbled, grabbing onto him for stability. Without waiting, he tugged her toward the altar, roughly pushing her against it.

“A dress would have been better,” he commented, yanking her pants down to her ankles as she squeaked in alarm and grabbed the cloth-covered altar table. Two fingers quickly pressed against her sex, sinking into her without warning. She cried out, clutching the table, bending over without thinking. “Still so wet,” he muttered, fucking the two thick digits into her.

“Please,” she wailed, unable to take any more teasing.

“Impatient now,” he chuckled, pulling his fingers free. “Don’t worry, baby,” she heard his pants drop as the heavy belt buckle hit the floor, “gonna make you feel all better.”

He pressed in behind her, letting her feel the weight of his cock as he slid between her thighs. Holding it against her pussy, he reached around for her throat, pulling her up straight.

“Look up,” he commanded quietly. She obeyed, lifting her eyes to the wooden crucifix above them, the carved image of Christ staring back. “I want you to look at Him while you’re taking my knot.”

He pushed into her, and she cried out, digging her fingernails into her table underneath her, struggling to keep her gaze where he wanted it. His thick shaft settled deep in her warmth, creating a pressure in her belly that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his grip on her throat loosening for a second. “Just as good as I imagined.”

Y/N whimpered, fighting to keep her head up as Dean started to fuck her with slow, purposeful strokes. Her hips dug into the altar with every thrust, and his hand kept a steady grip on her throat, forcing her to look into the eyes of the crucified messiah as he defiled her.

It felt too good to care.

Her first climax came quickly, and her cries bounced off of the stained glass windows, echoing around the old building. Dean didn’t slow or stop, grunting in time with the slap of his skin on hers. His other hand grabbed her breast through her shirt, squeezing without a care for how rough he was being but her only noises were of pleasure. She was getting off on the way he used her, the bruises he was bound to leave on her skin.

“You really are a sinner,” he groaned, feeling her pussy clench around him again. His hand dropped to her belly, the fingers at her throat forcing her up a little straighter. “Bet you’re ripe right now,” he murmured, close to her ear. “That empty little womb just begging to be filled.”

The thought of what he was suggesting shouldn’t have made her wetter, shouldn’t have had any effect on her at all, but she would be lying if it didn’t. Her whole body shuddered at the depravity of even thinking about carrying his spawn, and she let her eyes roll back and fall shut. Dean chuckled, slowing just a little to watch her slick cunt swallow him over and over.

“I’m gonna knot you,” he panted, palming her ass, releasing her throat as he kicked her feet apart a little wider. Her belly and breasts came flush with the altar, and he hummed when his cock stabbed a little deeper. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you’re so ready to be filled up.” Y/N whined, pushing up onto tiptoes to stop from slipping. “I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

His hips snapped into her with more force, punching a cry from her lips. He started to fuck her hard, hard enough that she knew she’d have physical marks from the wood colliding with her hip, if not from his fingers gripping her flesh tightly. She couldn’t hope to stop herself from screaming, cumming hard as she felt his knot beginning to swell.

“That’s it, Omega,” Dean growled, slapping her ass as she clenched around him. “Fucking cum on my knot.”

With one last thrust, his knot popped, thickening inside her as warm spurts of cum filled her belly. His teeth found her throat, and in the throes of pleasure, she didn’t resist, crying out as he broke the skin and left a permanent reminder of his touch. She slumped forward when he released her, gasping through the last of her orgasm, going limp as he finished. He groaned with a low chuckle, squeezing her ass again, enjoying the last few squeezes of her warm walls around his cock.

“Wanna hear a secret?” he murmured, pulling her up and holding her there, practically impaling her on his knot. His lips brushed the shell of her ear and she shuddered, almost wheezing in his grip. “I’m no priest.”

Was he expecting her to be surprised? No priest acted the way he did.

“Then what are you?” she asked, expecting him to say anything but what came out of his mouth.

He chuckled. “I don’t think you’re ready for that, little Omega.”

How she had made it out of the church and home without anyone seeing her was a stroke of luck, and she managed to avoid her mother for the rest of the day. Her heat subsided quickly after her encounter with Dean, but she still wasn’t entirely satisfied. After their encounter, he’d disappeared without answering her questions, and every time she’d returned to the church later on in the week, there was no one there. The mark on her throat ached, and though it hadn’t been deep, she still kept it covered to avoid questions from anyone who might see it.

Shame kept her from attending church on the Sunday, having decided by that point that Dean had used her. She feigned a migraine, letting her mother take her car, and then she ate junk food in her room while watching reruns of old sitcoms on television. When her mom returned a few hours later, it was with surprising news.

“Father Taggart passed away,” Judith said after Y/N came down to see what had happened. “No one is sure what happened, only that the bishop is saying they didn’t send any replacement for Father Grayson, and no one knows what happened to Father Crowley or Father Winchester.”

“That’s strange,” Y/N mumbled, recalling Dean’s words while he’d been buried inside her. The majority of her soul was in pain at the abandonment of an Alpha - again - and that this time, he’d left something of himself inside her.

“Oh, and did I mention?” her mother continued. “Mrs. Whiting was found dead two days ago. Another mystery. Her husband is still missing.”

Judith carried on, musing over all the gossip she’d heard today, and Y/N tuned it out, trying not to pay any attention to the emotions crushing her chest. She should have been more careful, should have been wary of the handsome Alpha - she definitely shouldn’t have offered herself up to him like a brazen hussy.

She had to keep her involvement with him quiet. The last thing she wanted was attention from the police. It was easier to keep her head down and carry on, deal with her own stupidity and not let herself be fooled again.

When a few days passed, she let it sink in. A night of crying to the most tear-jerking movies she could think of, and she felt a little better. She kept going, and days turned into weeks, and Dean was a brief thought that flitted through her mind occasionally. His mark faded to an easily-disguisable scar, and she continued on with how her life had been before, ignoring the longing for excitement that he had brought her. The only change was church, despite her mother’s protests.

She never expected to see him again but she wasn’t sure she could walk back into the place where she’d let him own every part of her.

It was almost a relief when her period came. His comments about her fertility had lingered in her mind, burrowing deep until she was in a panic. But her cycle continued as it had before, and she thought she could finally forget him entirely.

She didn’t notice the black car parked along the street, didn’t recognize it at all, though she’d seen it before. She didn’t even pay attention when she saw it outside her office, or at the grocery store. It was only when she walked past it for the sixth time outside the pharmacy, and the door opened, that she finally saw who it was.

Dean stared at her over the top of the Impala, and Y/N froze on the sidewalk, feeling like time had slowed down. He smiled awkwardly, unlike the predatory smirk from before, and she frowned, tilting her head at him.

“You’re back,” she blurted out.

“Kind of,” he replied haltingly.

It had been about six weeks. She was due her heat again. “What do you want?” she asked.

“To talk.” He sounded sincere at least. “To explain.” There was something in his voice, something that tugged her forward. “You’re my Omega, Y/N.”

She took a breath, knowing without even thinking about it that she’d listen. “What if I don’t want to talk?” she challenged. “What if I don’t want an Alpha?”

Dean smiled again, but once more she noticed the difference in him. “Is that true?”

“No,” she confessed quietly.

He gestured to the passenger door. “You wanna get in?”

It felt like opening that door would lead her somewhere, and not just into this man’s arms. Whatever he had to say, she felt like she needed to hear it, that this was not only the door to his car, but the door to her future. She looked up, smiling at the bright sunny sky, then dropped her gaze back to him.

“Yeah.”

Feedback is appreciated!! Thanks for reading 😘

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #demon!dean winchester #fanfic #fanfiction #spn #supernatural #blasphemy #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega #alpha!Dean Winchester #omega!reader

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

"Everyone Loves Sylvie" A Sylvie/Loki Drabble

Oh no, Sylvie can't find the perfect place to have her perfect wedding! Just another wacky day in the life of the MCU's Strongest Woman...or is it?

Pairing: Sylki Content Warning: Sylvie may not be awesome enough in this, I tried! Word Count: a number

Optional Reader Participation: Every time an asterisk (*) appears, play THIS SOUND BITE

Mrs. Anita Aycock was doing everything she could to keep her calm around the irritable woman throwing brochures and paperweights, but my god was she putting a new definition on the term 'Bridezilla.'

"I don't understand it!" Sylvie said, flailing and pacing about the small, white office. "Why can't we have it at the park? Is it because they're afraid I'll do something incredibly strong and amazing in front of their oppressed human faces?" *

Mrs. Aycock shook her head. "Because your marriage is illegal in all fifty states." *

Sylvie's jaw dropped. "I resent that! How so?"

Mrs. Aycock began awkwardly fiddling with the long string of pearls about her neck. "Genetically you are...kind of the same and also not? Like, you're somehow both cousins and twins? We're pretty sure any offspring you have will need an exorcism at birth." *

Sylvie drew her sword and pointed it at Mrs. Aycock's skinny, wrinkly, not-powerful human throat. "I will turn you into a shish kabob if you don't schedule my wedding for the park!"

The woman had dealt with more evil, entitled, barking she-devils in her career than a Hollywood publicist. "Jesus, this is getting convoluted! The President said NO and that is FINAL!" *

Sylvie smirked. She'd managed to waste five minutes of the President's life while insisting that he burn the city down for refusing to allow two of the same person to marry one another. He responded by putting her name on an FBI Top Priority Threat list and telling her to get a dildo.

She was so awesome.

"Loki!" Sylvie huffed. "Have you NOTHING to say?"

"Well--"

"--shut up, Loki!"

Loki shrugged. "Yes, dear. I love you."

She smiled blandly, pretending to have an emotion. "Thanks. I love me too." *

The wedding planner needed a drink, or ten. "How about Alabama? They let anything get married down there!" *

Loki knitted his eyebrow.

"Shut up, Loki!" said Sylvie.

"I didn't even say anything this time!" *

Sylvie put her sword back into the sheath at her hip. "Call him for me," she demanded.

The wedding planner looked as confused as she was frightened for her life. "Who?"

"Al! This Bama Man, call him at once, if he is the only one with the sense to allow me to take ownership--"

"--marry--"

"--do you not know who I am?" asked Sylvie incredulously. "I am a modern woman-hero written by the Disney Corporation! We have NO feelings, NO flaws, and NO need for men! We don't need to train, or understand, or think we could ever be wrong! We' all emerge from the forehead of Zeus full-armored and ready to bust all the balls!" She stood on the table in exaggerated pose, while Ms. Aycock kneeled and kowtowed, her heart instantly changed.

"Truly you are the Son of God!" *

Out on the street, Sylvie walked tall and alert, while Loki minded the mandated seven-and-five-eighths-paces behind and kept his head down. Everything was going her way...but it wasn't going her way enough.

"LOKI!" She called suddenly, causing Loki to accidentally take an extra step forward.

"Yes, Sylvie?" he asked hesitantly.

"I want to stab something." She called, briskly walking ahead and not looking in the direction she was going.

"But my leg still hasn't healed--"

"Not you!" she said angrily, shoving a homeless toddler standing nearby. The lightweight lad careened across the sidewalk and landed in a garbage bin full of medical waste.

"Wow, that Sylvie is such a brave woman!" said the child's mother. *

The three-year-old's head popped up from the dumpster, a used cannula draped over his head. "I wanna be her when I grow up...if I live that long!" *

Sylvie was still stomping angrily into the street, sword out again, when a large black van nearly hit her, daring to go two miles over the speed limit, and running through a green light.

A young man of about 25 leaned out the driver's side window. "I'm so sorry, ma'am! I hope you're okay! The walk light wasn't triggered, and--"

She in her infinite heroic courage did not scream or weep. While the driver was asking for the state of her wellbeing, if he did, in fact, graze her, she drew the sword and impaled the front tire with it. It popped with a loud sound, and the air leaking from it made a high-pitched whistle. *

"LADY! What the hell?! I was going to the hospital!"

A woman leaned out the passenger window. "I'm in labor! I can feel his head crowning..."

Sylvie came around the other side and slapped the pregnant woman in the face. A loud baby's cry suddenly filled the car. *

"Oh! Honey!" the mother's mood suddenly changed as she held her beautiful newborn six-month-old. "Look what Sylvie gave us! Sylvie gave birth to our son!" *

The man looked straight ahead and questioned the validity of his existence.

Everyone on the street began laughing and clapping as Sylvie stood there, silent and proud, having saved the day again...somehow. Loki came up behind her with a lovesick grin, putting a leather dog collar around his neck and holding the leash out to his lady-half. "You're so amazing, saving the day again without doing anything introspective or civilized! Oh, look! Everyone loves you, Sylvie!"

Sylvie looked directly into the camera and smiled. "I know, I love me too!" *

Happy nothing-special-about-the-date-today!

TAGGIES: @acidcasualties @foxherder @fandxmslxt69 @fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @maple-seed @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @smolvenger @holdmytesseract

#marvel loki #loki #fanfiction #mcu #mcu loki #loki fanfiction #sylvie #sylki

[octopiys]

I’ve got another quote if you want to use it!

Fuck me like one of your French men, wait no I fucked that up. Paint me like a french whore, nope not right either. Fuck it just call me a slut and be on your way

It’s actually from me this time! Have a lovely time zone!

🪶

YES 🪶ANON YOURE BACK THANK YOU I HOPE YOURE ALSO HAVINF A LOVELY TIME ZONE

COD Incorrect Quotes(plus things my friends have said)

Gaz, to Alex: awww look at Price and Nik. they look like...

Gaz: little... eggs in a basket.

Alex: what-?

-

Horangi: come here König, we're having a threesome.

König:

Everyone else:

Horangi: ....I didn't mean it like that.

-

Soap: everyone knows Ghost has giant tits.

Soap: he wears a bro.

Gaz: ...everyone does not know that.

Soap: fuck.

-

Ghost after watching Soap apply gun grease like he did in the trailer: fuck me like one of your French men. Wait no I fucked that up-

Ghost: paint me like a French whore- no, that's not right either-

Price:

Ghost, dying inside: fuck it, just call me a slut and I'll be on my way.

-

Farah, after reading 50 Shades: it is a love story!! If-

Farah: if you look over all the bdsm sex...

-

Makarov: gimme your phone or else I'll bomb your house

Yuri: again???

-

Graves: the Masked Simger is the downfall of America

Alejandro: how many times do I tell you to get the fuck out of my base-

-

Gaz: you know, if we were in a movie, we'd be lesbians in love.

Alex: ???

-

Ghost: my dad was like Bon Jovi, but worse-

-

Valeria: I don't know how to express this, but if I'm not sleeping with your mother, then I will NOT sleep next to her.

-

König: Roze, you know what pisses me OFF?

König: when people try to be FAKE REDHEADS. It pisses me THE FUCK OFF.

-

Ghost, in the hospital: stop, that hurts, I've got a bad arm!

Soap: and I'VE got a bad EMOTIONAL state!

Ghost:

Soap: so... so you should probably start being nice to me.

-

Price, after Soap made him listen to Tili Tili Bom: they sing that to Russian children!?

Price: that's probably why Makarov is so fucked up in the head.

Nikolai, who just wanted a peaceful morning:

-

Roach: ayo can you hand me my nutty buttys and my crack-

-

Price: Ghost, you cannot hate Gaz for no reason than to just say you hate him.

Ghost: goddammit.

Ghost:

Ghost: can I hate Soap instead?

Soap: come ON-

-

Rodolfo, trying to go on the next mission after Borderline:

Alejandro, shoving him back down: Jesus said go back to bed, you Have Not risen

-

Ghost: did I tell you the one time I got babysat by an iguana?

Gaz: everything I learn about you is against my will.

-

Laswell: don't call me a whore, I identify as a slut, bitch.

-

Graves, angrily: if you weren't you, and you were some creepy fifty year old man, I'd pound you!

Graves:

Los Vaqueros:

Graves: I... I didn't mean it like that-

Alejandro: I told you to GET OUT-

#call of duty #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #incorrect quotes #captain john price #alejandro vargas #alerudy #kyle gaz garrick #farah karim #🪶 #kate laswell #phillip graves #gary roach sanderson #könig modern warfare #horangi #nikolai cod #nikolai x price #cod incorrect quotes #call of duty valeria #vladimir makarov

[gaymurdersalad]

>Zzzzz.... ZZZZzzzzzzzz.. . ... .. . . .

>Hello there, Old Sport!

>Zzzz... zZzzz.... . .

>Sport? Hey, Sport? Ol' Sportsy? Clementine Peach? Dreamsicle? Orange Cream Ale8?

>SPORTSY!! WAKE UP!!!!

>WAUGH- AH! WHO'S THERE?! I DON'T HAVE YOUR MONEY, I-

>Relax, Sportsy! It's just me, Davey!

>Oh.. Oh. That does not relax me at all.

>Dave, what the hell happened to me?

>Well, geez, Sportsy! You've been asleep for four years, one hundred fifty four days, and eighteen hours!

>Wuh- Huh? Cut the bullshit, grape man, no I wasn't!

>It's true! You musta been drugged out of your mind or somethin' Sportsicle!

>What, and you just left me on the floor here?!

>I had business to attend to! I'mma very busy grape!

>No matter now, doe! 'Cause you're alright!

>And by the way, you're real cute when you sleep, Clementine!

>Jesus fuck, with the nicknames already..

>Wait. If- If I'm awake, and functioning, and speaking..

>Does.. Does this mean-

>

>

>OH GOD FUCKING DA-

[ JACK AND DAVE ARE OPEN FOR ASKS ]

#dsaf #dayshift at freddy's #murder salad #gaymurdersalad #salad lore

[bodyhorrorbeatdown]

Body Horror Beatdown, Match 17, Round 1

Vote for your favorite:

Propaganda under the cut.

Mad God:

A journey beyond your wildest nightmares.

"Mad God is THEE body horror movie in my mind. Stop motion animation and heavily stylized live action combine to create a disgusting fetid mass of living things that fester in cruelty and industrial squalor. Everywhere you look something is alive and wet and moving in ways it shouldn't. It's a deeply disturbing film that wormed its way into my heart with its beautifully fucked up visuals and lack of consideration for mass appeal."

The Thing:

Man is the warmest place to hide.

jesus christ i have so much propaganda for this. it's my (the poll runner's) favorite in the bracket btw <3

"IT'S AMONG US, BUT WITH COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF GORE DONE THROUGH PRACTICAL EFFECTS. WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT?"

"ROB BOTTIN’S EFFECTS ARE THE BEST IN ANY FILM I HAVE EVER SEEN, AND I WATCH A LOT OF HORROR FILMS WITH A LOT OF EFX AND I GOTTA SAY HE DID A FANTASTIC JOB (HE WAS 22 YEARS OLD AT THE TIME OF DOING THE PRACTICAL FX FOR THIS FILM) Also it has Kurt Russell in it what more could you want"

"It's the best most special thing with all the fancy abilities"

"Awesome practical effects that still hold up, wet and slimey beasts, Kurt Russell looking hot"

"THE body horror movie. Ever wanted to see KY jelly and chewed up bubblegum used to create the most horrifying, gooey, and bulbuous mass of a creature you've ever seen? I SURE DO!!! It's such a practical effects monster especially with the big puppet-thing at the end that took almost fifty people to operate, AND the sound design with all the crackling and popping... ough. Just the first transformation scene with the kennel-thing is enough sicken someone. It's so good."

"all sequence of the thing is entirely practical effects, the blood and the gore, the tentacles and different versions of the thing. the practical effects were actually shot after the rest of the movie had wrapped up because making the effects took so long. they actually had an amputee in the scene where a characters arms were ripped off by the chest mouth in the defibrillator scene. Honestly John Carpenters magnum opus that was hounded by critics when it came out, but rightfully ADORED by horror fans in the present day for its amazing practical effects and awesome plot. bold and daring move to hide a lot of the characters eyes in many scenes, eyes are window to the soul and the thing doesn't want people knowing."

"I mean, this movie is an icon of body horror. Miss alien ate and the practical effects still terrify me on repeat viewings."

#bodyhorrorbeatdown #body horror beatdown #gore #body horror #round 1 #polls #mad god #mad god 2022 #the thing #the thing 1982 #phil tippett #john carpenter

[vigilantkatholixx]

At that time, Jesus said to the multitudes of the Jews: Which of you shall convince Me of sin? If I say the truth to you, why do you not believe Me? He that is of God, heareth the words of God. Therefore you hear them not, because you are not of God. The Jews therefore answered, and said to Him: Do not we say well, that Thou art a Samaritan, and hast a devil? Jesus answered: I have not a devil, but I honor My Father, and you have dishonored Me. But I seek not My own glory; there is One that seeketh and judgeth. Amen, amen, I say to you, If any man keep My word, he shall not see death for ever. The Jews therefore said: Now we know that Thou hast a devil. Abraham is dead, and the prophets; and Thou sayest: If any man keep My word, he shall not taste death for ever. Art Thou greater than our father Abraham, who is dead? and the prophets are dead. Whom dost Thou make Thyself? Jesus answered: If I glorify Myself, My glory is nothing. It is My Father that glorifieth Me, of Whom you say that He is your God. And you have not known Him; but I know Him. And if I shall say that I know Him not, I shall be like to you, a liar. But I do know Him, and do keep his word. Abraham your father rejoiced that he might see My day: he saw it, and was glad. The Jews therefore said to Him: Thou art not yet fifty years old, and hast Thou seen Abraham? Jesus said to them: Amen, amen, I say to you, before Abraham was made, I AM. They took up stones therefore to cast at Him; but Jesus hid Himself, and went out of the temple. John 8 46-59

[slutforsilverfoxes]

If you can, can you do one where Gibbs has interest in the new girl that has join NCIS team. Please 🥹 love you.

Thank you for being my very first request 🥹 I hope you like it!!

___

Something was very wrong with Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

He was smiling, and not in that “you’re a dumbass and I’m gonna smack you” kind of way, he was genuinely smiling.

“Who are you and what have you done with our boss?” Tony asked skeptically, squinting as he scrutinized Gibbs’ face.

The silver-haired man’s visage fell into a familiar scowl as he placed his large palm against Tony’s forehead and shoved him backwards. He growled out “Get to work, DiNozzo,” before taking a seat at his desk, placing his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose and opening up a recent case file.

Tony did not, in fact, get to work, instead strutting over to McGee’s desk to solve the mystery of their fearless leader’s unusually good mood. “What do you think it is?” he whispered, leaning his elbows against Tim’s desk. “Do you think someone he hates died?”

McGee furrowed his eyebrows together as he watched Gibbs’ face break into a smile for the second time in five minutes- that had to be some sort of record. “I don’t think it’s a ‘what’, Tony,” he inclined his chin towards their boss’s desk where he was listening to you animatedly describe the latest book you were reading, “I think it’s a ‘who’ and I think it’s our new Probie.”

“Hey!” Gibbs barked out, and the two agents senior to you grinned sheepishly. “You two gonna do your jobs today or are you gonna stand around gossiping like school girls?”

“Gossip,” Tony answered cheekily as McGee simultaneously rushed out, “Work, Boss.”

Gibbs shook his head at his two subordinates before returning his gaze to you. “How come you’re so nice to me, hm?” you asked innocently as you sipped your coffee. “No hazing period with you? There’s certainly been one with those two,” you nodded toward your teammates.

“Because you’re not a pain in my ass like those two were as Probies,” he answered simply with a shrug. Because you’re intelligent and charismatic and witty and beautiful and I’d do anything to keep that smile on your face all the time.

“Oh, so you only like me because I’m useful to you,” you teased.

“Precisely,” he shot you a wolfish grin, and you rolled your eyes playfully in response. Suddenly his tone grew serious, and he instructed “Don’t do that, Y/L/N.”

Your eyes widened almost comically and you bit your lip, sufficiently chastened. “Sorry, sir.”

Jesus, he thought, don’t do that either.

“Here,” he handed you a case file, needing to get you out of his space before he said something stupid. “Run through the evidence in here and get me a profile on this dirtbag by the end of the day.”

“You’ve got it,” you smiled easily, hand brushing against his as you took the thick folder from him. His heart rate shot up embarrassingly fast and he prayed you couldn’t hear it thumping against his chest. You’d been here a mere two weeks and somehow managed to reduce the fifty-something year old tough-as-nails Marine to a schoolboy with a raging crush on his new agent.

Tony slid a note across your desk as he passed by to get some coffee from the kitchenette. Ten bucks and a round of beers says he asks you out by the end of the week.

You whipped out a pen from the top drawer of your desk, a wide grin spreading across your face as you scribbled back a response before returning the note to Tony’s desk. Game on.

#jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis imagine #ncis #reader request #jethro gibbs x y/n #leroy jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs imagine #jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs x y/n #leroy jethro gibbs x reader

[cyberhai]

In an alternate universe instead of Femboy Fishing there is a youtube channel called Tomboy Baking where a terrifyingly burly fifty year old butch lesbian shows us how to make cute little teacakes.

A wormhole opens and they team up to create the most delicious fish and chips known to man. Society is healed. Ron DeSantis kills himself. Jesus descends from the heavens to kiss a man.

#femboy fishing #my beloved #i think erin uses she her now? i forget

[ihaventcomeupwthanameforaheroyet]

Some dates related to gay rights in the UK in XX century:

1952 - Alan Turing's sentenced to chemical castration for homosexuality (which resulted in his suicide in 1954)

1967 -  limited decriminalization of male homosexuality (consent age was set at 21 while heterosexual consent age was at 16) in England and Wales

1981 - same extended to Scotland

1982 - and Northern Ireland

1994 - lowering age of consent for homosexuals to 18

2001 - equal age of consent (16).

The events on TotBT take place in 1990 or 1991, I suppose? And David Talbot was 74. Which means he was roughly in mid-thirties when Turing was sentenced, and around fifty when consensual homosexuality was at least partially decriminalized, and equal consent age did not even happen during his mortal lifetime.

Damn. David was 50 when consensual male homosexuality was decriminalized in England and Wales and 65 when gay sex became legal on the whole UK territory. I don't know what my feelings are doing. I also don't know why I never bothered to put these facts together. Except I do. Until Merrick's book, I did not know where David stands on Kinsey scale. Definitely not zero, but that's all I could say. In Merrick, David says it explicitely - he is bisexual but prefers men. Which makes him 4 or 5 on Kinsey scale. Which makes the whole situation with gay rights in the UK... kinda important for him?

(As a sideway thought, I think it's awesome that Anne Rice shows other points on Kinsey scale except 0, 3 and 6. A lot of people believe that bisexual always stands for equal attraction to both genders. Which, IDK, just does not correspond with some bisexual people's actual experiences? And looks dumb in fiction?)

Anyway.

Imagine, like, being fifty years old when consensual homosexuality is decriminalized at a part of your country and sixty-five when it extends to your whole country. And being a queer man on top of that.

Jesus holy fuck.

(I'm sorry for being emotional, but really.)

#david talbot #vc meta #thinking aloud

[hecatemoon87]

BOB SAGINOWSKI x FEMALE OC

Warnings ⚠️ smut

NO minors!

Read Part II

Part I: The Confession

It was early morning as Bob Saginowski unlocked the back door to the cathedral. As he entered, the familiar musky smell of wood and incense filled his nose.

Bob was a junior priest at St. Mary's Cathedral on the outskirts of Brooklyn. It was his turn to be available this week for daytime confessions.

He was dressed in a long sleeved shirt and trousers, all black. And the white clerical collar was neatly fastened around his neck.

He walked over to the confessional and opened it. The priest before him had left several candy wrappers inside. Bob sighed with annoyance as he cleared them away. "Jesus Christ," he mumbled but then made the sign of the cross. "Sorry," he said, turning his gaze to the lord on the cross nailed above the altar.

His sincerity wasn't as genuine as it should have been. He just wasn't in a good mood. In fact, he was depressed. His faith in God had been so strong in his twenties, but now, at thirty, he was beginning to question his choice in joining the priesthood.

The second demon that he was wrestling with was lust. As of late, his mind was always drifting toward sex. And it had intensified several weeks ago when a childhood friend had recently returned to Brooklyn.

She had been pretty as a girl, but now, as a woman, she was gorgeous. And all he could think about was kissing her, smelling her skin, caressing her curves and feeling her tightness envelope his cock...

"Bob?" He heard a voice behind him, causing him to jump a little. He turned around to see it was Jocelyn, his childhood friend. Speak of the devil, as they say. Or, in this case, demoness.

"Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in," he said, regaining his composure.

"I'm very good at being sneaky," she said, smiling and walking over to him. She was dressed in a tight maroon blouse, her cleavage tastefully on display, and she wore a black short skirt with heels. Her eyes had a little smokey texture to them and her lips were full and red. To say the least, Bob was feeling tempted.

"What are you doing here? Aren't you worried you'll burst into flame?" Bob joked. He remembered her being very rebellious against her Catholic parents.

"What are you talking about? I'm a good pious Catholic girl," She said, pushing out her bottom lip in mock offense.

"Don't lie inside a church," Bob said, shaking his head in amusement. "What brings you here anyways?"

Her bright disposition suddenly faded. "I need to make a confession," she said, seriously.

He chuckled, still believing that she was joking. But when he saw that she did not laugh, he grew concerned. "Oh, you're serious. Um, well, there's the confessional..." he said, pointing over to the fifty year old confessional booth.

Without looking at him, she walked over and entered. The soft click of the door closing behind her echoed through the church.

Bob, thinking she might be pulling a prank, proceeded with caution. She had a mischievous side to her, which, in all honesty, he loved. He remembered when they were kids, she would put frogs or snakes into other children's back packs because they had been mean to Bob.

As he got into the priest's side of the confessional, he pulled open the partition.

"Well, as you know, Bob, it's been like eighteen years since my last confession," she said.

"It's Father. You call me Father, during confession. And actually, outside of it as well," he said.

He saw her roll her pretty eyes and said, "Fine. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," she said, emphasizing the word 'Father'.

"I'm sure you have,"Bob said, chuckling.

"Hey! Shut up," she said, laughing. "No, seriously, Bob...I mean, Father. I've sinned big time."

"Murder?" He said, arching an eyebrow.

"Ha, ha, you're such a funny priest. I'm talking about having impure thoughts about a man," she said.

"Well, I'm sure thats normal for you," he said, and smiled when she hit the partition window with the flat of her palm. "Bob!"

"Sorry, my child, please continue," he said, still grinning.

"So fucking weird, priests calling people their children and we have to call you daddy," she said.

"Don't curse in church and don't call priests daddy," he said.

"Whatever. As I was saying, I'm having urges for this guy. Like, anytime I see him I want to just rip off his clothes and lick him," she said, almost passionately.

Bob bit his lower lip, that little comment had sent a wave of lust through his loins, his cock hardening, and growing tight against his trousers.

"Is he married? Because don't do that if he's married," Bob said.

"No, he's not married. Well...it's like he's married, but to a dude...but they arent gay and they don't have sex," she said.

Bob furrowed his brow in confusion, "What does that mean?"

"It doesn’t matter. What matters is how he makes me feel. I'm touching myself daily because just thinking of him makes me so wet," she said, in a sultry voice.

Bob shifted in the confessional, thinking that maybe he shouldn't be taking her confession. He started thinking of her soft moans and heavy breathing as she teased her nipples and fingered her wet pussy.

"Father? You've been pretty quiet over there. Any thoughts?"she said.

"Uh, well, lustful thinking isn't the end of the world. It's when you become obessed with it, placing the desire for it over your love for God, that's the sin," he said.

"I am obsessed, though. Just being near him makes me feel naughty. I want him to tell me I'm a bad girl and that I have to be punished for my sins, you know?"

Bob licked his lips and looked over at her, "What?"

"Yeah, like bend me over that pew over there, pull down my panties and spank me until I cry. Then force my legs open and pound my spoiled little pussy," she said, placing a hand on the partition and looking at Bob intently.

Bob's eyes widened as he came to the realization that she was talking about him.

"Fuck, that's hot," he said, softly.

"Don't curse in church, daddy," she said, grinning wickedly.

To be continued!

#tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fan fic #tom hardy smut #bob saginowski #bob saginowski smut #au fanfiction

[seaworthee]

i like to joke about hating joffrey (who doesnt) but TBH the character that captures the most of my rage is Jorah. Jorah’s a fucking nightmare, i hate him with all my spirit. I UNDERSTAND why joffrey is like that, and can I be 100% honest, I dont really blame him. He’s thirteen, and has had Four of the Worst Parents in Westeros raising him. Nobody checks him for any bad behaviour. He’s essentially just a spoiled brat pushed to an extreme. Do I like him? no. Can I blame him. kind of not really.

now JORAH is a grown. ass. man. he’s big! now I guess I don’t know about his childhood, jeor might’ve been a shitty father, IDK. does that excuse his slavetrading and pedophilia? NO. not to me, at least. IDK how you guys were raised. It’s just. Slavetrading is morally reprehensible in Westeros, and he did it to buy some cute baubles for his fucking child bride (lynesse sweetie you didnt do anything wrong). AND NOW hes like fifty trying to make nonconsensual moves on fourteen year old traumatised widow Jesus Christ of Nazareth, Daenerys Targaryen.

NOW. I already hated him for AAAALL of that. but youre telling me… he was snitching on daenerys to the fucking king… that whole time? HES NOT EVEN A LOYAL PERVERT. DEEEEEEEEAAAAATH. SOMEONE NEEDS TO RIP HIM OPEN. There is no punishment severe enough. I need him erased from time.

#I HAAAATE THAT GUY #she speaks #not tagging out of the GOODNESS of my SPIRIT #asoiaf #cr: a storm of swords #oh btw the four bad parents are cersei tywin robert and jaime cause being a deadbeat counts as bad parenting. i know this.

[theycallme-thejackal]

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

109. 22

It’s 1980, and Esther Maisel is about to turn twenty-two.

It’s weird to think that her mother was married at this age. And of course, Mama and Grandma Rose are discussing that fact in the kitchen after dinner. “Miriam, why don’t you let me set her up with someone? At her age, you were married. Don’t you want the same for her?”

“Do I want her married to a man who will have an affair and leave her with her own suitcase? Boy, Mama, I’m going to have to think about that.”

That had made Esther stifle a laugh so as not to be heard eavesdropping. She’s grateful Mama isn’t pushing her to get married. Or letting Grandma Rose set her up on countless dates. She’s very happy with her life right now.

“Mama, I didn’t start dating Lenny until I was thirty. Esther is nowhere near running out of time. Just let it go, please.”

“I simply don’t want her to miss out on the opportunity to be a mother.”

“I had Sarah well into my thirties,” Mama replies. “Esther has plenty of time. If she even wants to be a mother. I am not going to force that on her.”

“What to you mean if?” Grandma asks, clearly appalled.

“Spying, are we?”

Busted.

She grins sheepishly up at her stepfather. At fifty-four, Lenny Bruce looks almost exactly the same as he did the day Esther met him. Tall and skinny - but far less skeletal than he was in the height of his addiction - his dark hair has started to gray, and he still makes her mother ridiculously happy.

Lenny nods his head toward the back yard of the brownstone, and Esther follows, sitting down on the steps. “What are they talking about?” He asks as he pulls out a pack of cigarettes.

“My uterus,” Esther answers with a shrug.

“You have one of those?”

“I hope so. Or else I’d get that monthly bleeding checked out.”

Lenny barks a laugh at that and flicks his lighter, inhaling deeply. “Thank god you inherited your mother’s sense of humor.”

“I had to to keep up in this house,” she reasons. Lenny exhales a puff of smoke. “You know those things will kill you, right?”

“It’s better than the other thing,” he comments, taking another drag.

“Sorry,” Esther says, hugging her knees to her chest.

Lenny nudges her. “So...twenty-two...Jesus, I can’t believe I’ve known you almost twenty years.” Esther smiles back at him. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

She furrows her brow and shakes her head. “I was like...three.”

He grins. “Yeah,” he confirms. “You were three years old, and I came over to pick up your mom for dinner, and before I even got to the door, I could hear you screaming bloody murder.”

“About what?”

He chuckles and taps the ash from his cigarette. “Apparently your brother had gotten a little too aggressive playing with this stuffed monkey you had and ripped its head clean off.”

Esther cringes. “Oh, god.”

He laughs again. “Well, your grandfather answered the door looking pretty annoyed over the whole ordeal - ”

“Sounds like Papa.”

“Yeah, it does,” Lenny agrees. “And he shoves you into my arms and runs off to hide in his study, and the second I held you, you stopped screaming,” he explains.

She lifts her brows in surprise. “I did?”

“Yep. You put your little head on my shoulder and conked the fuck out.” She laughs at that. “And your mother comes running out into the foyer, this decapitated monkey in her hands, my tie wrapped around its severed neck, and I swear that was the moment I realized I was gonna spend the rest of my life with her. With all of you.”

“God, you’re a sap,” she teases.

Lenny grins and wraps his arm around her shoulders. “Love you, peanut.”

She wraps her arms around his waist. “Love you too, Dad.”

#midgelenny #midge x lenny #midgexlenny #tmmm fanfic #marvelous mrs. maisel fanfic #otp: more important than god #jackal fics #mltswift