Victor Frankenstein after achieving the impossible and building a fucking person from scraps of the dead: Oh god, ew, ew it's ugly! Yucky! Yucky! Gross! Ew! Ew! Yucky! Yucky! Gross! Ew!
My handwriting is the same style as the teacher’s who I had when I was nine. I’m now twenty one and he’s been dead eight years but my i’s still curve the same way as his.
I watched the last season of a TV show recently but I started it with my friend in high school. We haven’t spoken in four years.
I make lentil soup through the recipe my gran gave me.
I curl my hair the way my best friend showed me.
I learned to love books because my father loved them first.
How terrifying, how excruciatingly painful to acknowledge this. That I am a jigsaw puzzle of everyone I have briefly known and loved. I carry them on with me even if I don’t know it. How beautiful.
You still have time. Time to change your wardrobe. Time to get divorced and married again. Time to change majors. Time to learn a trade from scratch. Time to pay off debts. Time to travel. Time to love and be loved. You still have your whole life ahead. Whether you're 19 or 66. You still have so much time. But you have to take it.
sad reality of the fanfic-to-published work economy is that the weirdest people are willing to do it. that's why there's now hundreds of shitty no plot cishet hate-to-love enemies-to-lovers books that are ex reylo fanfic. and it's not even good. that's because the people who wrote book-quality steve/bucky and kirk/spock fic are too normal to think to themselves "i should get this porn published". they're too busy working in local government offices
#imo the writers who write insanely good fanfic can’t file the serial numbers off because they grasped the canon so thoroughly #the shitty stuff is publishable because once you change the names you can’t recognize these people
are shows and movies allowed to be subtle and ambiguous anymore..... is that still allowed or does everything have to be a patronizing hand holding session. just wondering
summary: you and jack get a little distracted on your way to breakfast and somehow, someway end up beneath his sheets
warnings: smut
notes: part 5 eek! i hope this satisfies the sgtmd itch. my tags are closed for now until i find a better way of doing it lol
part 1! part 2! part 3! part 4!
masterlist 𓊔 request
“Are you doing anything after work today?” Jack tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.
His eyes are so soft, so intense as they take you in. It’s really a wonder how he manages to do it. To be so sweet and so sexy all at once.
“No,” you reply softly, meeting his stare.
“Get breakfast with me.” It’s not a question, somehow.
Still you nod, swallowing hard. Even after being here for a couple of weeks, he still makes you so nervous. He probably always will, really.
“That sounds nice.” Your eyes fall to his mouth and up again. “I’ll come get you when I’m done with these charts.”
His lips meet your temple, press a soft kiss there, and then he’s back off to go treat someone somewhere.
---
Two hours later, you’re slinging your backpack over your shoulder. You’re in the casual post-work clothes you packed for yourself this morning, not knowing you’d be leaving with Jack or going to breakfast.
Still, you packed something cute enough. It’s fun to play with him-- walking out of the locker room in a low-cut shirt or a scandalous pair of shorts was always sure to fluster him enough that you’d get a sexy text within minutes.
Today, it’s your favorite pair of jeans and a plain white tee that hung cutely off your shoulder to reveal the strap of a red bra that he bought for you once upon a time when he was still SgtMD and you were still just a girl on a computer screen.
You’re not surprised to see him talking to Robby near the locker room entrance.
His eyes catch yours and he waves you over. As soon as you’re at his side, he’s slinging an arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head. Embracing you like you’ve established something deep and familiar here.
It exists, in a way. There’s history between you, strong enough to have escalated this bond faster than it would’ve otherwise. Honestly, you wished your schedules lined up more. This was only your fourth or fifth shift with him in two weeks.
“Ready to go?” Having all his attention on you in the presence of Robby is so, so intimidating and so, so sexy.
You nod, yawning and letting your head roll onto his shoulder. A low chuckle rumbles his chest, and you think you could sleep to the sound of it.
Making him laugh is so ugh.
It’s unreal, truly.
“You two have fun.” Robby shakes his head in disbelief.
“Have a good day,” you reply with a shy grin. Jack nods.
He takes your hand in his, and you notice that he changed, too. He’s wearing a clean black shirt and a pair of blue jeans that you’re surprised look so loose around his strong legs.
“You look nice,” you tell him as you both step into the fresh morning air. “I like those jeans.”
That puts a little smirk on his lips. His eyes crinkle at the corners in a way that drives you absolutely mad.
“Thanks, doll.” He squeezes your hand in his. “There’s a diner a block from here that has anything you can think of. I think you’ll like it.”
“Perfect.” You lay your head on his arm as you walk to his car. “I’d say we can walk the block, but my feet are killing me.”
He cackles at that, to which you frown. It wasn’t that funny. Really, it wasn’t a joke at all. Your feet hurt like hell.
“What? Sergeant Abbot doesn’t get sore after a shift?” You bump his shoulder.
He only laughs louder. Deep smile lines are etched around his eyes and mouth, curving handsomely.
“Oh, sweetheart. You’ve got no idea.” He rubs a hand over his face. “God, ha! It’s my fault, I guess I never said anything.”
He’s still chuckling. It’s very easily the most tickled you’ve ever seen him by anything. That’s saying a lot considering the types of patients he sees on shift.
“Said anything about what?” You’re feeling a little out of the loop.
When you reach his truck, you don’t notice that he’s parked in an accessible spot. You’re too focused on keeping your feet moving despite the ache in your heels. With a cheeky grin, Jack opens the passenger door for you. Just as you’re about to ask for a little insight, he’s propping his leg up on the running board. He tugs the end of his pant leg up over his shoe to reveal his prosthetic leg.
It starts right below his knee, a black, metal shin that continues down until his shoe begins.
Suddenly, all the little things come flooding back in.
The way he sways in place. How he starts rubbing his leg each time he moves from standing to sitting. The way he never responds when you nudge his foot each time someone says something ridiculous.
All you can do is put your head in your hands and giggle, because how on earth have you both gone this long without mentioning it?
“How has this never come up?” You look at his face and admire the wide smile he’s wearing. God, he’s handsome. For a fleeting moment, you picture a life with him. A baby with those big hazel eyes and red curls. Freckles on their skin as they grow up and take after their father. Fearless and smart and confident like him, too.
He notices your smile falter as your stare falls to his lips. Your own lips part just slightly, and his eyes track the movement.
There’s no more fresh air. No, this air is thick with tension now, clouded with deep desire as you both share shallow breaths in the gap between you.
“Jack,” you whisper.
“Sweet girl.” He’s stepping up on the running board now. His hand finds your hip and pushes you down to the driver’s side of the bench seat. As soon as you’re out of his way, he’s climbing into the spot you just occupied and slamming the door shut behind him.
His lips meet yours hot and fast. He’s swallowing every whimper, every moan, every breath you take like it’s fuel to him. One hand finds your side and grips it roughly, squeezing your skin hard. The other winds under your shirt behind your back, pulling you closer until you’re straddling his lap.
“So perfect,” he murmurs as his palms rub down your sides. They find purchase along your spine, pulling you impossibly closer as his mouth connects with yours again.
Your tongue prods at his mouth and he lets you in easily, lips moving languidly against yours. Doing this here, in the hospital parking lot, feels forbidden.
But it can’t be any worse than fucking on the roof or in the confessional.
You part from his mouth and trail hot kisses across his jawline. Stubble burns your chin, cheeks, and nose as you press yourself into his skin. Salty sweat tingles on your tongue as you lap at his pulse point.
Pure sex is the only adjective to properly describe the sounds he’s making as you continue. When you take his earlobe between your teeth, his hips buck up into you. It makes your breath hitch, and you accidentally bite down a little harder on him in surprise.
“Get off,” he orders, and before you have time to register the words, he’s already lifting you up by the hips and setting you next to him. “Seatbelt on.”
Again, he’s doing it for you before you can say anything.
“J-- fuck, Jack, I’m so sorry,” you say breathlessly. Turning, you reach for his head, trying to look at where you just bit him. “I didn’t mean to hurt y-”
“Didn’t hurt me, baby. Need more, not here. My house.” With an arm across the back of the seat, he’s reversing out of his spot and peeling out of the parking lot. Not a moment later, his palm rests on your thigh and he squeezes hard.
“Your house?” You look up at him next to you.
At the red light, his eyes find your pretty face. You’re all kiss-bitten and warm. The way you’re staring up at him like he’s the moon and stars breaks something in him. His dick is harder than it’s ever been. His heart is working more than it ever has because looking at you feels like having everything he’s ever wanted or needed right in the palm of his hand.
“It’s not far, sweetheart.” His lips find yours for a moment that’s too brief before the car behind him honks. By the time he’s crossing the intersection, it’s already turning back to yellow.
As he focuses on the road ahead, you take all of him in.
He looks fucking hot. His backpack is discarded at your feet along with your own. His shoes are practical, which probably has more to do with his age than it does his condition. His jeans fit him so fucking nicely, and as you observe their pull, you think again of how ridiculously little you know about Jack Abbot.
Fucking a man twice and never noticing that he’s a missing leg? What kind of camgirl-resident-fuck-buddy are you?
When you catch sight of the tent in your pants, you’re reminded of exactly what distracted you both those times. He’s huge. Now, his pants are so strained over his lap that you worry they’re going to burst.
So, you palm his erection over his jeans with one hand. He hisses, instinctively gripping you by the hair to keep you from continuing. Still, he doesn’t move you, so you continue to unbutton his jeans and then tug his zipper down.
A long, heavy sigh falls from his lips as you give him that relief.
His cock twitches in his underwear.
For the moment, he’s unable to resist. Unable to focus on you and deny himself pleasure because he wants to treat you. You’re able to have your fun with him.
Lowering your body, you stop when your face meets his crotch. You feel his body tense as he holds his breath. Instead of giving him what he wants, you press a barely-there kiss to his cock through his thin briefs. Hissing, he wraps your hair around his fist again, keeping tension on your neck.
Obeying, you let him pull you back up in your seat. As soon as you’re up, you’re unhooking your bra behind your back, pulling it through the sleeve of your shirt to hang on his rearview mirror.
“Looks pretty right there,” you say sweetly.
“Stop,” he groans, unable to help himself. He yanks the car off the side of the road and for a moment you think he’s pulled over randomly. “Get out of the car.”
Finally peeling your eyes off of him, you notice that you’re in a driveway. His, presumably.
The house at the end of it is nice. It’s a newer red-brick with a big garage and a big oak tree in the front.
As you bend to grab your bag, Jack tsks.
“I got it, c’mere, baby.” He slings both backpacks over his shoulder and steps out of the car with his jeans undone and showcasing his erection for the whole damn neighborhood to see.
Like he asks, you slide down to his side of the cab and move to get out. A squeal leaves your mouth as Jack bends down and lifts you from the seat. Immediately, your legs wind around his body. You close the door behind you and let him carry you and your bag inside while you giggle in his ear because this is fun.
“So strong,” you praise, peppering kisses along the side of his face. He grins, giving you access to kiss his pretty dimples. “Mm, so handsome, too. Lucky gal I am.”
At that, he blows a breath.
His front door has a code, not a key, and he pads it in easily with his free hand. It’s hard to believe that he only needs one to hold you. It’s nothing to do with how much you weigh, and everything to do with how fucking ripped he is.
“Welcome in,” he says coyly as he carries you over the threshold and into his home.
You don’t have time to take anything in before he’s pressing you against his front door and pulling your shirt over your head to reveal your bare chest. At the feeling of his cool AC, your nipples peak, and Jack wastes no time pinching them between his forefinger and thumb.
You finish your earlier work and slide his jeans down to the floor, then connect your mouth to his while he continues toying with your nipples. Pleasure washes over you and you moan deep into his mouth. Hands strike forward to tug at his shirt, and he pulls back for only a moment to pull it over his head.
Then, he’s kissing you again. Though now, his fingers leave your breasts. They travel further down your body, teasing the soft skin at your sides, at your waist. His hands are big and rough and so fucking warm.
His lips leave yours and instead find purchase on your jaw, then your neck, and then between your breasts, down your stomach, and to the waistband of your jeans. He undoes the button, pressing a kiss to the skin he’s revealed. Then the zipper slides down, and he’s trailing kisses over the front of your panties while you writhe and whine above him.
When he pulls your jeans off, he takes the panties with them, leaving you stark naked just beyond his front door. He’s knelt on the ground, untying your shoes painfully slowly. Impatiently, you step out of them without untying them and kneel next to him, taking his face in your hands and pressing another searing kiss to his mouth.
“Don’t wanna wait,” you moan against his lips. “Want to feel you.”
His responding groan is gutteral, like it’s escaped from his chest and he’s had no say in the matter. He nods, still kissing you, and runs a hand through your hair.
“Whatever you want, baby,” he says softly, placing a kiss between your eyebrows.
You raise yourself to your feet and lend a hand to Jack, who has a trickier time finding his way back on two feet. As soon as he’s up, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in for what must be the thousandth kiss. He’s quick to lift you, one hand gripping the back of your thigh while he uses the other to hold the back of your neck, keeping your mouth to his.
Whatever route he takes to his bedroom is quick, and you’re being laid out onto his bed before you realize you’ve even entered another room.
You’re laying there while Jack peels his boxers down, letting them hit the floor before settling next to you. Once he’s on the mattress, you take what you want.
A hand finds your breast again as you sit up and straddle his waist. Without dramatics, you fist his cock a few times before running it through your folds, letting your own arousal slicken him before lining his head up with your entrance and sinking down all at once.
“Fuck.” Jack throws his head back, both of his hands now gripping your waist too tightly. “Oh fuck you feel so good, sweetheart.”
He mutters a few more fucks as you slowly roll your hips back and forth, trying to accommodate to his size. After a few times, Jack’s hands release their vice grip and move to pull you down into a kiss.
It makes him move inside of you, and you both end up gasping into each other’s mouths. The sensation is so erotic, so charged that you begin to feel lightheaded.
“Jack,” you moan as he thrusts his hips up into you.
He hums, kissing you slowly while he does it again. His hand reaches up to find your nipple and he rolls it between his fingers. You whine against his mouth and feel him grin in return.
“You sound so pretty.” He leans back, head and shoulders propped against a stack of pillows so he has a better view of you riding his cock.
Just the sight of him makes you so fucking wet.
With a little effort, you raise your hips up and drop them back down onto him, watching as he inhales sharply. On the next bounce, he takes his lips between his teeth and lets his eyes roam over your body, hands roaming to touch every inch of you.
Then you get more comfortable. Your motions get faster, hips moving higher and coming down harder until the both of you are panting hard and you have to stop.
As soon as you do, Jack winds a hand into the back of your hair and pulls your face to meet his.
“Do you have any idea how fucking good you look?” He kisses a bead of sweat rolling from your hairline. “You’re so fucking sexy. I love getting to look at you while you take me.”
“Yeah?” You exhale a heavy breath, lips parted as you recover from that set.
“All I’ve thought about for three fuckin’ years and it’s so much better than I imagined.” His head rolls back onto the pillow and he gives you a lazy grin.
“You can’t just say that,” you whine, sitting up and placing both hands on his chest to look at him. His dick twitches inside of you and your hips roll back without thinking.
“Which part?” That cocky fucking grin tells you that he knows exactly which part.
“Jack, fuck.” A shaky laugh leaves your lips as you realize how fucking gone you are for the man inside of you.
“I know you thought about it too.” He pushes a piece of hair behind your ear, and then his eyes shift to yours and trap you in a gaze that feels just a little mean. “Making me a birthday cake. Keeping me as your only client. I know what that all means.”
“Oh yeah?” You raise your eyebrows, shifting your hips to try and break his cocky facade. “Tell me then. What was I thinking, Sarge?”
He chuckles under his breath, reaching out to hold your waist and keep you still.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Is that an order, Sarge?” You challenge, feeling emboldened by the sight of his throat bobbing. Beneath your touch, his stomach tightens and relaxes.
“You take orders now?” He tries to be just as unaffected, but his voice is tense.
“Oh, I’ve always taken orders from you. And I don’t plan on that changing anytime soon.” Slowly you bend at the hips, stopping just before your lips brush his.
“Oh, yeah?” His nose brushes yours.
“Yeah.”
He’s the one to close the distance, instantly shoving his tongue into your mouth to kiss you hard. His hands stay on your hips, holding them still while he starts to thrust himself up inside of you over and over and over.
His pace is steady, but his dick is punishing. It’s thick and long and makes you feel so full that you think you might just burst at the seams. Little pants are exchanged from his mouth to yours and from yours to his as you both melt into one another.
As soon as he starts going faster, your head falls into his shoulder, a little grunt coming from your throat at how fucking overwhelming it feels to be this aroused. Tension builds low in your stomach and Jack must sense it, because he manages to hold you up with one hand while the other begins to rub at your clit expertly, like he’s studied exactly what makes you finish.
And fuck you do.
It happens all at once, a knot bursting in your stomach and leaking down the inside of your thighs and onto Jack’s dick.
“Inside of me, please,” you whine desperately as he begins to groan louder.
“Huh?” It’s half-question, half-grunt.
“Cum inside me, Jack. Please cum inside me I need-”
You’re interrupted by his shaky inhale, desperate pants, and vice grip on your skin as his hips slam into you hard. His entire body is wound up, tensed to showcase every muscle, every dimple and divot in his perfect skin.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect.” He lays a sloppy kiss to your shoulder and pulls you down on top of him, where you both spend the next hour sleeping the morning away, limbs tangled, sheets dirtied, and hearts beating as one.
Hey all! Normally when I post for Mona's community aid initiative, I post about the communities of refugees she is helping. But today I went to Instagram to update you all and saw that she hasn't posted since April, and we hadn't spoken since then either. She hadn't messaged me updates like she normally does. I was very afraid. It turned out she had broken her phone during a displacement, and she hasn't been able to replace it due to the high costs. Mobile phones are a scarce and expensive resource in Ghazzah but they are a lifeline for the families there. And for Mona it is not just a lifeline for her family but also for the refugee community she has dedicated the last few years of her life serving. She cannot connect with her usual network of volunteers or access funds without her phone (she had to contact me through her mother's phone). Despite helping displaced refugees, her and her family are also displaced refugees also living out of a tent, and she cannot currently afford a replacement. Please please please help her get a new one so she can continue doing the life-saving work she has been doing. Chuffed link to support Mona.
Oh my God, my wife has been in the hospital unconscious for a two week.
My wife is suffering from severe malnutrition and is five months pregnant. We've been here at the hospital for a week, fighting for her.
My wife urgently needs treatment in order for her condition to improve.
We are living through catastrophic conditions; we are suffering from a severe shortage of food and medicine.
We urgently need 450 euros to secure the necessary treatment and food for my wife and unborn child before her health deteriorates further. I implore you, with compassion, to help me and stand by me in my ordeal. I cannot bear to see my wife die before my eyes; she means so much to me.😭
In this cursed war, I lost my mother and older brother due to lack of medical treatment caused by the war and the siege. The pain of loss is unbearable; my heart still aches every day because of their absence. 😭
Please don't leave me alone. I beg you to help me save my wife. I don't want to lose her. I want her to recover and stand by me so we can continue our lives together. 😭
This could be the last time I write anything while my wife is still alive, and I will never forgive anyone who sees this and scrolls past without caring or even sharing.
The doctors said severe bleeding and weakness caused this terrifying moment, and without urgent treatment it could happen again anytime, so I ask, can you help me get treatment for my wife??, please donate now.
Help Walid’s Family Find Safety and Stability After Repeated Displacement in Gaza
I am Engineer Walid Al-Qatrawi. I am 36 years old, a father of three children: Adam, Hala, and Nay. I was born and raised in Gaza, where my family and I have spent our entire lives.
Because of the ongoing conflict, we have been forced to leave our home and relocate multiple times in search of safety. Today, my family and I are displaced in southern Gaza, living in a fragile tent that does not provide the protection and stability my children need.
After repeated displacement, my children have lost the sense of security and normal life they once knew. Every day, we struggle to provide them with a safe and dignified environment. Our tent offers very limited protection from harsh conditions and the challenges of displacement. We urgently need to repair and equip it, build a private bathroom for our family, provide food, clean water, clothing, and essential supplies for our children. If possible, we also hope to secure a safer temporary home where our family can live with more stability.
Every donation, no matter how small, can make a real difference. If you cannot donate, sharing our story may help us reach someone who can.
Please Donate & Share:
Hello beautiful people around!
This is Mohamed Saraf, from London, UK. Today I'm representing o… Mohamed Tarek needs your support for H
0 & £2,000
Thank you for reading our story and for standing with my family during this difficult time.
TL;DR landlord screw us over, we're moving out next month and cats need medical attention.
-15% ON ALL COMMS ABOVE €10
I'm setting up month-long sale on my VGen to hopefully afford moving expenses on top of rent and vet bills before I'm able to find a part-time job to sustain myself.
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