those pants are way too tight

The First Taste

Summary: Gabriel finds that being human isn’t what he expected.  Sometimes it’s even better.

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader

Word count: 3265

Warnings/Tags: smut, pretty much PWP, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), human Gabriel

Written for my 100/200 follower celebration  
Requested by: Anon
Kink: Praise kink

Author’s note: All tags are at the end.  If you have a line through your name, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you.  Sorry!

Special thanks to my amazing beta @sumara62.  You feedback has been invaluable as are your beta skills, especially this piece because all that sensory description nearly killed me (and it probably would have without you).  And to @blondecoffeecake for introducing me to the Banh Mi as a non sweet treat Gabe would like. I also don’t know where I would be without all your encouragement and Dick.  

Your name: submit What is this?

Gabriel’s always expected his senses to be blunted if he lost his grace, but the things he can taste now that he’s human exceed all expectations.  Starbursts literally burst with a juicy rainbow of fruits rather than being overshadowed by the fillers and additives used for texture and coloring.  Chocolate is a much smaller, more decadent spectrum of deliciousness when he can’t taste everything down to the very earth in which the seeds are grown.  Ice cream is a whole new ballgame (as are the after effects of having far, far too much of it).

Then there are the things he’s never considered.  

How a good sear on a steak can make all the difference.  How the crunch of crisp lettuce combined with an assortment of fixings can create an entire world in a single bite.  How sugar and spice meld so magically he’s convinced that honey habanero is the only sauce that belongs on wings.  

His favorite, however, is a little something called a Banh Mi sandwich from a Thai place in Florida.  It has a little bit of everything - sweet, sour, spicy, salty - and the complexity of all the ingredients form a delectable blend that flourishes through his mouth in ways he’s never experienced.  

He finds you to be no different.

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First Time For Everything

Originally posted by frozen-delight

Request: Hey! Could you write a fic where you and Dean are together and when they have sex for the first time he’s really rough and doesn’t know she was a virgin. And when they’re “finished” he sees the blood and asks her about it and feels really bad for being so rough. So he does something really romantic for her and then fluffy fluffy fluffy smut? Really slow and sweet with cuddles and kisses and all the romance?

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: language, smut

A/N: I love how sweet this one got…

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The Dashing Florist. CS AU.

So this is my first shot at a one shot - since the word count is 11,579, I guess I didn’t succeed all that well. Sorry! 

Anyway, this fic is gifted to @lenfaz for her birthday, Happy Birthday shipmate, as she mentioned she would like this to happen in her reblog of the original prompt post  I hope you enjoy it Lena. 

Thanks as always to my incredible beta @ilovemesomekillianjones and her continuing encouragement for me to write whatever my crazy muses throw at me. You’re the best!

Also available on AO3 and FFN

The door jingled as it was roughly pulled open, the sweltering heat followed Graham Humbert as he stormed into the office.

“He’s done it again,” an accented voice rang through the space.

“Done what?” a muffled voice called back. Graham followed the sound and found a very pert ass sticking out from under a desk.

“He’s parked his delivery van in one of our bays. August is looking for somewhere to park that doesn’t involve a three-block hike.”

The body under the desk wriggled back a little, then there was a sharp crack, followed by a ‘fuck’, and finally his boss pulled her lithe body from under the furniture.

Emma rubbed her head where it had collided with the desk as she stood. “This is the third time this week,” she grumbled. “And it’s only Tuesday.”

“I know. You have to do something about it, Em. We need our vehicles on hand, not miles away.”

“I know,” Emma agreed on a tired exhale, brushing her hands off on her black skinny jeans. “And I’ve told him this as many times as I can remember. I pay way too much for the privilege of those parking bays and he thinks he can just…” she stopped mid-rant. “You know, I’ve had enough of his shit. Maybe it’s time to do something that will get the message through his thick hair.”

“His what?” Graham asked.

“What?” Emma responded, unclear on what he was asking her.

“You said thick hair.” Maybe she hit her head harder than I thought, he mused.

You know what I mean, Graham. Time to get the message through his thick skull,” Emma exaggerated the word, nodding once in self assurance before she marched for the door.

“Hey, now, Swan. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like what?”

“Like flash him your boobs. Not everyone is pulled toward their magnificence.”

Emma protectively cupped her breasts. “Don’t listen to him girls, there isn’t a man alive able to resist your charms.”

Graham laughed at her as she left.

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Your Wettest Dream Cum True

Summary: Everyone knows about your crush on Bucky and they decide to take your relationship into their hands after weeks of making fun of you. It ends in an amazing night with the Winter Soldier and the usual rubbing from the team.

Author: buckysplums14

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,318 (sorry, I’m a wordy bitch)

Warnings: Smut ahead! The usual, oral sex, unprotected sex

Originally posted by natpekis

It had only been a few weeks since Steve had brought you to the compound and already the team was ready to lock you and Bucky into a room together. You had met Natasha a little over a month ago at the gym and she’d invited you to train at the Avengers compound with her, the two of you quickly becoming friends. How could you refuse an invitation to meet the Avengers? Never in a million years. You’d shown up and Nat had brought you down to the gym where you’d met Sam (AKA Falcon) and Wanda (AKA Scarlett Witch).

“It’s such an honor… you guys kick ass!”

Sam laughed and Wanda blushed.

“I like her already… you should bring her around more often!” Sam exclaimed.

You’d sparred with Nat for about an hour when she taught you how to do her famous thigh grip.

“We need someone you can try it on… hey! Barnes!” she shouted and you looked up from where you were kneeling on the matt.

There he was. James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. The Winter Soldier. You were somewhat familiar with his story. He’d been friends with Steve, he was presumed dead in ’44… you’d seen the museum exhibit. He came back as the Winter Soldier, was blamed for the events in Vienna. He’d been frozen, but you’d heard he was an Avenger now, you thought you’d seen it in the news during the Avengers’ last big fight. He sauntered in wearing a t-shirt that was much too tight and gym pants. The way he almost strutted over was tantalizing. He almost seemed to walk in slow motion as you looked him over. Those chiseled pecs and those rippling abs, his beautiful biceps, his strong hands… his long hair was falling in his face as he lifted his metal hand to smooth it back. He was even more attractive in person, which you thought was impossible. You shook yourself back into reality.

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paladinswap! au request ficlet (VLD, Shidge, nsfw-ish)

@katieshirogane bae u know anytime u ask I gotta deliver

Written as part of my 300 Follower Celebration, and based off of katieshirogane’s absolutely intoxicating paladinswap au. For this story, Shiro pilots Blue and is very much Lance + Shiro meeting Slav, and Katie pilots the Red Lion and is a salt pillar.

Warnings: Swearing, poop jokes, way too much salt, sexual innuendo, very mild sexual content/implied content, Shiro is a fuckboi, Pidge is all rage. 

As the Blue Paladin of Voltron, Shiro was supposed to be accepting, and loyal, and adaptable in all circumstances. And he tried to embrace that image, he really did. He *always* had his team’s backs in combat, and he never let a few extra limbs or eye sockets get in the way of flirting with a hot alien. With Hunk’s help, he’d managed to modify the ingredients of the Castle’s engine coolant fluid to safely recreate his favorite facial mask from home.

Yeah, pretty much everyone he met could agree that Shiro was a useful member of Team Voltron and an all-around likeable guy… which is why Katie Holt got under his skin.

It wasn’t his fault the Red Paladin was caustic, socially awkward, and too smart for her own good. It *also* wasn’t his fault that her ass looked so good in those tight black pants she always wore. Sure, *maybe* trying to flirt with her as means of introduction in the middle of the Keith rescue mission wasn’t Shiro’s brightest idea, and *maybe* (accurately) describing Katie’s piloting of the Red Lion as ‘kamikaze’ initially gave her some reasons to be upset with him, but that had been months ago. Water under the bridge, by anyone else’s standard. But for some reason, she just couldn’t seem to let it go, which meant *he* couldn’t let it go either.

Shiro was supposed to be accepting, and loyal, and adaptable. He wanted to carry the mantle of the Blue Paladin with pride. He wanted to embody the goodness of Blue, he really did. But with Katie, all he seemed to be able to do was squabble, and bicker, and tease, and get into nothing contests at every possible opportunity. Which is why he’s so confused now, because, for the life of him, he can’t figure out if he wants to punch Katie in the gut, or slide into her lap.

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Purely platonic cuddling

@putonyourbathingsuits and the rest of @slackru , this one is for you guys because you’re all amazing people. 

Story takes place shortly before 3x01

Abby doesn’t know how long they’ve been going over reports, but her muscles are starting to cramp up from being hunched over the desk and more than once she had to rub her eyes in order to be able to focus on the words in front of her.

“I don’t know about you, but I could use some coffee. Do you want a cup as well?” She asks without lifting her gaze from the report she’s been trying to read for the past couple of minutes.

When she doesn’t receive a response, Abby glances towards the couch. “Marcus?”

A tender smile appears on her face when her gaze settles on Marcus who’s fast asleep with his head tilted back and the report he’d been going over still clutched in his hand.

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“I’m gonna bust”

anonymous asked: Could you please do a vernon smut where you give him a blow job ? But can you write it from his perspective and theyre dating. Thanks

Summary: Vernon invites you over to hang out and watch movies, which ends up with you both in a very explicit scene with a quick ending. 

Warnings: terrible smut ahead! 

I hope this is okay for you guys! I know it’s not the best! 

As soon as he opened the door, Vernon knew tonight would be a long one. 

Your cute short hair was down and hanging just above your shoulders, your thick thighs and lovely ass shoved into a pair of tiny yoga shorts. Don’t even get him started on the way your- well his, oversized baggy t-shirt almost engulfed you whole. 

Vernon prayed to whatever God that was out there that you wouldn’t want to roll up into your usual ball and cuddle with him tonight. However, the God’s weren’t listening to his silent prayers today.

You immediately threw your arms around your boyfriends frame, almost clinging to him like a koala, and that’s when he knew that the long night had just begun.

You were unusually cuddly this movie night, you guys weren’t even watching anything scary, in fact, Vernon intentionally rented a children’s movie just so there would be no sex scenes. 

His hormones were running wild lately, especially during the hot weather and seeing you in short shorts and cute frilly tank tops, and god damn those skirts- “No,” Vernon whispered to himself, knowing his wild imagination run wild. 

“What was that?,” You asked curiously, innocent eyes staring up at him as you had turned your head from Zootopia to look at your whispering boyfriend. 

“Um, nothing, I was just saying that this movie is really cute,” Vernon improvised, sweating on the inside. 

You shrugged, turning back to look at the movie, but not before planting an innocent kiss on the side of his cheek. Which obnoxiously, wasn’t that innocent of a gesture to Vernon’s raging testosterone. 

He could already feel a slight tightness in his jeans just by staring at you when you walked in the door, and it was already increasing by the second. 

He silently looked up at the ceiling, his face scrunching in almost a painful like expression. 

He didn’t notice the way you had completely turned away from the children’s movie to look up at him and smirk. He didn’t notice that you’ve purposely been dressing more for him lately. He didn’t notice when you noticed his growing bulge in his pants. 

Vernon didn’t notice any of those things, he was too busy trying not to notice you, and the way you were curled into him, your thighs caressing his. 

“Vernon?” You said, causing him to jump, almost out of his skin. “Do you want me to help you?” Your voice was low and sensual. 

Vernon couldn’t help but send one more prayer to any God that was listening that you meant what he thought he meant, and this time, it seemed they had their ears wide open. 

“W-with what?” Vernon trembles, his bulge growing by the second as you look up at him with that innocent look. 

“You know what I mean,” You say, motioning with your hand to Vernon’s growing cock. 

He gulps, taking a deep breath before nodding. This was the moment his teenage hormones have been waiting for. He never wanted to pressure you, so he never asked, little did he know that you were just waiting for him to.

“Please,” Vernon pleads, feeling quite pathetic, yet ecstatic with every passing moment you stared at him.

You tied your hair up, getting in front of him on your knees. “You’re gonna have to help me, I’ve never done this before.” You admitted.

Vernon groaned, finding it almost too hot that the first dick in your mouth was going to be his. “I’ll guide you through it, if you need to stop, let me know” He calmed you, wanting to make sure you were 100% okay with what was about to go down. Literally. But, truth is, this has only happened one other time with his previous girlfriend, and it wasn’t terrible, but he knew the one from you would be much better. 

Vernon watched silently as you pulled down his zipper, your hands shaking slightly as you smiled up at him. His heart warmed, but so did his ballsack. 

“Remember, you don’t h-, Oh fuck!,” What started out as a comforting lecture turned into a loud exclaim from the boy.

You had taken his swollen cock in your hand, and squeezed, hard, and boy, did Vernon not expect that, especially mid-sentence. 

“Baby, you gotta slow down,” Vernon panted, almost ready to blow his load all over your pretty face. “Don’t squeeze so hard,” He choked out a smile. 

Vernon sat back and let you absorb his words, not wanting to pressure you, but also not wanting to cum so fast. After watching you sit and look perplexed for a good 10 seconds, he finally gave some advice, “Lick your hand, baby,” He said, his voice a lot calmer than before, but still choked, “It will help with lubrication,” He explained. 

Vernon sat with bated breath as you licked your hand, his mind going completely into the teenage boy gutter after seeing your fingers coated in saliva. He almost choked on his own spit when you slowly grabbed his cock in your tiny hand, the wetness allowing you to slide it through. 

“That’s i-it, baby girl, just like that,” Vernon encouraged, sitting back with his eyes closed, “U-um, if you want to, y-you can put it in your mouth?,” He suggested, almost as a question. His lips quirked up at the sides when he heard your small chuckle. The smile quickly faded as you licked the side of his head, causing his hand to jolt to the back of your head. “I-I’m so sorry!” He sputtered, his eyes shooting open as he saw that he had accidentally jerked your head to where your mouth was now engulfing his swollen head. 

He let out a small sigh of relief (and pleasure) when you shook your head, waving your hand as a signal that it was okay. “Just, t-tell me if you need to s-stop.” He grunted. 

You shut him up by licking his head again, this time fully, and Vernon was sure this wouldn’t last long. 

He couldn’t hold in his moans as you slowly took more of him in, silently choking on the girth of his cock. Vernon thought it was hot, but couldn’t help but let out a teeny smile at the way your cheeks were puffed out around him.

His hand lay still on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair to comfort you. But, his stroking stopped as his cock reached the hilt of your throat, causing Vernon to thrust harshly on instinct. You gagged around him and he moaned loudly, trying so hard to not put your hair into a makeshift ponytail and fuck your mouth. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,’ Vernon cried out, his head thrown back, and just like 20 minutes before, staring at the ceiling and trying to hold himself back. 

And just as before, you look up at him with the same wide eyed innocent look, and before he can stop himself, he lets out a loud moan, almost animal like, and the only words he can think of to warn you are, “I’m gonna bust!” 

(Request:  Hi! I love your writing sooo much! Will you please please write one about rick taking the readers virginity? The reader is like 20 and has been in their group for awhile and has feelings for rick but he doesnt know until… etc.. please i will love u forever)

Note: Enjoy!

Warning: rick smut, shitty writing (sorry) 

Originally posted by chamblertara

You watched as Rick walked around Alexandria giving orders to different people. We all had to get ready for a big supply run for Negan. You couldn’t help but admire his muscles and the way his pants were just a little too tight around his junk. You shook your head of those thoughts as you knew nothing would ever happen. You came into this group when you were only 16, and now you were 20. Rick probably saw you like a daughter or something. You didn’t know this but Rick had his eyes on you since you turned 19. He didn’t think it was appropriate with the age gap and all but now that you were older, he wanted to get in.

“(Y/n)?” you were broken away from your thoughts as you saw Rick approaching you.

“Hey Rick, what’s up?” you asked.  

“I was just wondering if you were free tonight? He leaned his hand on his hip and waited for your reply.

“Free for what?” you asked confused.


“Er, okay” you were hesitant about what was going on, you didn’t want to seem to eager but you didn’t want to turn him down either.

“So, I’ll see you later?” he smiled

“I guess you will”

He nodded his head and walked off, leaving you stunned about what just happened. Did Rick Grimes basically just ask you out? You had been imagining this moment for so long that you couldn’t believe it just happened. You went into your house and immediately started picking out what you would wear.

You made your way over to Rick’s in a cute white dress. You were seriously nervous about tonight, it could end in so many ways. You knocked on the door and Rick opened it up, looking you up and down not so discreetly.

“Damn, you look good” he grinned at you.

You thanked him and walked inside, noticing food already set on the table.

“You hungry?” he asked, walking you over and pulling out the chair for you.

“Yeah” you smiled at his kind gestures.

You spent about an hour eating and talking. Somehow you had gotten onto the topic of sex and you started to get a little uncomfortable. He didn’t know you were a virgin and to be honest you didn’t want him to know. He suddenly stood up and took your hand, leading you upstairs.

“Rick, where are we going?” you whispered.

“Don’t worry, no one’s here” he said. He walked you into his room and shut the door behind him, his lips landing on yours in a second.

You were a little taken aback at first, but you soon melted into the kiss as you remembered this is what you’d been wishing for. Rick ran his hands all over your body, and he was touching you in places you had never been touched before. You were feeling new pleasures as his hand made his way down your pants and he started massaging your clit. You let out a moan before he quickly got undressed and you followed him, both of you now butt naked. Things were moving really fast and you were getting nervous. You used to hear stories of how your first time was meant to hurt, and by the look of things Rick was a big boy. He pushed you down on the bed and climbed on top of you, his lips finding yours and kissing them roughly. He was letting out frequent groans which turned you on and calmed you nerves a little more.

“You ready?” he asked, placing his tip at your entrance.

“Wait!” you blurted out. “I’m a virgin”

Rick looked down at you for a long time before speaking. “So, you don’t wanna do this?” he asked, about to move off of you but you grabbed his waist.

“No I want this, but I just don’t want it to be too rough”

He laughed and kissed your neck. “It only hurts for the first couple of minutes. I’ll go slow, but then I’ll make you feel good”

You nodded your head and looked into his eyes as he lined himself up with you. He slid himself along your slit to loosen you up a bit, and then he stuck his tip in. You grabbed onto his arms as he continued to slowly push himself in.

“Ouch” you said, the stretching felt like a burning pain.

“Sorry” he stopped for a second, but carried on after. It was taking all the self-control he had not to just snap his hips forward and thrust into you. You felt so tight around him and it was driving him crazy.

“The hard part’s nearly over” he said as he slowly started to pull himself out.

You liked that feeling more and when he started to push back in again, the pain started to turn into pleasure, the burning sensation was gone and you were overwhelmed by this new feeling.

He continued to go at an excruciatingly slow pace until you told him to go faster. You didn’t have to tell him twice before he started to push into you at a faster pace, not too hard though. He dropped his head to the crook of your neck and started sucking on your pulse while you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Shit (y/n), you’re so fucking tight” he said, squeezing his eyes shut from pleasure.

You moaned at the touch of his fingers pinching your nipples and he started to thrust in harder. “I’m gonna cum” he whispered in your ear, sending goose bumps along your skin. Rick thrusted in a couple more times until he pushed himself deep inside you one more time before pulling out and finishing on your stomach.

“Shit” he panted out of breath. He got a tissue and cleaned his mess off your stomach before lying down next to you.

“That was amazing” you said, staring up at him and placing a kiss on his lips.

“We should do that again sometime” he smirked at you. You giggled and pulled the covers over both of you. Rick sent you to sleep by playing with your hair and he soon dozed off to the sound of your breathing.

Flash Fic: Musings on four loose stitches

I still can’t believe I wrote this, y’all. It’s ridiculous and gratuitous and I don’t know what I’m doing posting it. I’d better get lots of supportive notes :p

Meanwhile, I am sure that @erindarroch has been wanting to read this ever since I teased it earlier and I feel like @cicatrick has probably had these very thoughts herself. So there’s that….

Here: read something awful.

Leia was sitting in the pilot’s seat, leaning across it with her legs draped over the armrest, trying to be comfortable, but not quite succeeding at it. Han was standing at the engineer’s station, tinkering with some panel or another. His back was to her, his attention on the knobs and switches. And her attention was, rather lecherously, on him. Or, rather… on part of him.

It seemed, in Leia’s estimation, that the seat of his trousers had gotten… ever…so slightly…


It was no real surprise, of course. Thirty-six days of confinement aboard the Falcon had forced them all to be far more sedentary than their previous lives had allowed for. And the C and K rations they’d been forced to live on for the past few weeks were designed for soldiers in combat. Formulated to keep fighting men fighting, the prepackaged meals were calorie dense, but offered little in the way of satiety. Three squares a day out of those boxes and anyone’s breeches might grow a little more snug.

The real surprise to Leia was that she’d noticed.

When had she started paying close enough attention to Han Solo’s backside to note that his pants fit differently? Or that the seam in the seat was sewn together with a thread that was a few shades off the color of the fabric, lighter…visible when she looked closely enough? Or that there were four of those stiches pulling –  dangerously close to popping…? She wondered, when she stopped to wonder, if there might be a needle and thread aboard the Falcon; if maybe she should offer to stitch the seam before it came open. But then maybe she wondered what that might say to Han; that she’d been paying close enough attention to his rear end to notice a few little loose stitches.

It wasn’t that she had any illusions of Han somehow not knowing that she was looking. Of course she was looking. She’d all but admitted as much. And he was looking right back at her. She knew that, too. Weeks cooped up together and a baker’s dozen stolen kisses (technically there had been fourteen, but one of those was so chaste that she couldn’t, in good conscience, count it with the others). Or, rather, she supposed that he was looking….

She felt like she’d caught him, his eyes falling someplace inappropriate when he didn’t think she would notice. He’d checked out her rear, he’d looked her in the chest instead of the eye when a burst of cool air caught her just so and changed the texture of her skin beneath her camisole. He was a man, and he noticed these things.

But that was just it.

He was a man, and men looked at women. What was the old saying: any port in a storm…? What if all of these looks and kisses had been an affect of confinement and biology and nothing at all to do with anything uniquely between them?

She was looking at his backside. She was staring and flirting and entertaining fantasies about him – about him and about her and about them and the riotous, rapturous things they would do to each other when they got to this place they were going. It had started as a tease, and had somehow become a plan: that no matter how badly either of them wanted to do the kinds of things his too-tight pants had her thinking about doing, they were going to wait until they’d arrived at their destination. The Falcon was no place for such shenanigans.

There was no place private – not a single door lock was in working order. And even if a kind request of Chewie and a flipping of a switch on Threepio’s neck would allow them the time, there was no place appropriate. Her cot was soft, but hardly sturdy, not to mention far too small for a pair of people. His bunk was solid, but cramped and with low overhead. Han had declared that his repertiore could be limited by space constraints, that he wouldn’t be able to fully demonstrate certain skills without a proper bed. He’d assured her that it would be worth waiting for.

But she had no idea whether any of the flirting or the kissing or the way she sometimes caught him looking had anything at all to do with her. It could just be male urges. He said he didn’t want to disappoint her by letting things go too far with improper facilities – as though a man who looks like that could possibly be a disappointment with his clothes off. But what if his actual motivation was more that he didn’t like the idea of taking that step with her and having to see her again the next day? Han Solo had always struck her as a one night stand kind of a guy. Why else would he have gone all the time she’d known him without being involved with anyone? Maybe the only way he was willing to get close to her was once his promise of escape was assured. They would get to Bespin, fall into bed together, have mind-blowing, unbelievable, once-in-a-lifetime sex, and then he’d be on his way.

This is ridiculous! She thought to herself. She was still looking squarely at his bottom, willing those stitches to come loose, for the threads to pop all at once –  wondering whether it would give her a glimpse at his skivvies or a flash of bare skin. She couldn’t believe that she was obsessing over Han Solo’s behind, and she doubly couldn’t believe that she’d developed such a ridiculous schoolgirl crush that she was distracting herself from this delightful view she had of his backside with questions about feelings and the future.

Whether or not she was going to sit in her room and brood and write poetry and wish he was in love with her was just not a question worth pondering. She wasn’t going to let herself get tangled in sentiment and angst and madness. She was going to make the best of a bad, confusing, cramped, tense, boring, frustrating situation. She’d bide her time with flirting and kisses and teasing and making idle repairs to the ship. And in some matter of days or weeks they’d reach Bespin. They would get the Falcon’s hyperdrive repaired.

And she would have her way with Han Solo. She was going to do things to him that the Princess of Alderaan had no business knowing felt so good. And if he was leaving after that, at least she could be sure that he’d never forget her.

Just the same as she could be sure that she would never forget the sight of his backside in those ever so slightly too tight pants.

anonymous asked:

We met on a Sunday morning, both doing our walk of shame :)

Steve shuffles out of Whatshisname From the Bar’s apartment somewhat discombobulated: obvious bedhead, boxers that may or may not be his, only one of his socks.

So, all-in-all, a good night.

He starts the walk back to his apartment as the sun rises, a smile on his face. He’s not someone who minds an early morning, especially when the last night was good. Doesn’t hurt that it’s Sunday and he’s blissfully free for the rest of the day.

Steve is about to cross 4th and Oak when another guy stumbles over.

He looks wrecked.

He’s got bags under his eyes, and Steve is pretty sure the guy’s shirt is on backwards. He’s carrying one shoe, despite the fact that he’s got a backpack on, and when Steve looks down, he notices a huge hole in the guy’s sock. But the thing Steve can’t stop staring at his messy, obvious sex hair. And there’s a lot of it, knotted up and all over the place. It can’t be comfortable, but Steve can’t blame whoever did it — if he could get his hands into those locks, he would.

“Fun night?” Steve asks, as they wait for the light to change.

The guy looks over and raises an eyebrow. “What do you think?” he asks. His lips are plush and pink, and Steve wonders what that five o’clock shadow would feel like against his skin.

He’s half in love, but after they cross the street, the guy heads the opposite direction.

Oh well, Steve thinks. Guess it wasn’t meant to be.


Doesn’t stop him from taking the same route home a few days later. 

Keep reading

Through the Eyes of the Predator- Chapter 2 (Eric X OC)

Rating: M (swearing/smut:p)

Notes/Warnings: Strong Language

Genre: General

Okay, you asked for more!! Enjoy!!

Thanks everyone for the re-blogs and support! Please enjoy more of Eric and Fox!

@emmysrandomthoughts @beautifulramblingbrains @iammarylastar @tigpooh67 @bookwarm85 @frecklefaceb @mom2reesie @equalstrashflavoredtrash


She completely avoids me for the next two days. She doesn’t look at me during training, or in the mess hall, or fucking anywhere; and I can never get her away from her goddamn friends long enough to talk to her. She’s trying to avoid me, but she doesn’t look scared, so what the fuck? She liked the kiss, I could tell; so why is she staying away? Fuck, it figures; first girl that stirs more than just my cock and she wants nothing to do with me. Fine, whatever, a relationship’s nothing but trouble anyway.

I stalk the Pit that night, thinking about training that day, part of me hoping I run into Fox, part of me hoping not to. She can handle a knife, I saw that at the Chasm, but for some fucking reason today she plays all dumb, missing the target on purpose. Finally I decide to rattle her, sidle up behind her to ‘show’ her the right way to throw the blade and, alright fine, cop a feel at the same time. It’s awesome, the feel of her against my chest and I almost forget what I’m there for. I don’t miss her shiver when my breath touches her throat, or her tiny moan when my lips brush her ear. She smells so fucking good, my cock’s getting hard and I have to let go and step back before I do something stupid. She lets the blade go and it hits the fucking bull’s-eye. Fuck yeah, baby. I think, unable to stop from smiling. That’s my girl.

I pass The Grind, a fucked up club I stay away from even in my dangerous moods and glance inside. I skid to a stop. What. The. Fuck? Fox is in there, eyeing up an empty table, what the fuck is she doing in there? She’ll get hurt, get eaten alive if anyone catches her stealing drinks. Fuck, I can’t let that happen. I storm inside, she’s so focused on the fucking booze she doesn’t even notice me and I grab her by the scruff of her neck. She tenses and looks up at me, her eyes going wide when she sees who’s grabbing her, and I let my anger show. I’m fucking pissed off, doesn’t she realize the trouble she could have gotten into? What I would have felt like if something had happened? She lets me drag her out of the club, but then turns into a wildcat, hitting me with her wildly swinging fists. I tighten my grip on her neck and keep going. She starts thrashing and yelling, and I have to wrap my arms around her. She still manages to bash me in the fucking chin, goddamn it, she’s playing with fire!

“Fuck! Fox! Quit it!” I snap. No one else would be getting away with this shit, she’d better settle down before I forget my feelings for her and let her really have it. I manage to drag the little hellion to a quiet corner of the Pit and let her go, my fucking chin throbbing; it’s going to bruise. Fox goes to run and I have to pin her against the wall with my arm.

“Calm down, dammit, Fox.” I’m panting, out of breath, little bitch gave me a run for my money; she’s welcome to fight me that way when I get her to bed, but right now I’d rather she calm the fuck down. Fox looks nervous, her eyes darting around, and I just hold her against the wall, waiting; when it looks like she’s calmed down, I drop my arm and step back. She moves to run again but I go to block her and she stops.

I’m still so fucking mad it takes all I’ve got to spit out, “What. The. Fuck. Were. You. Doing. In. The. Grind?” My heart hammers in my chest, I clench my fists; goddamn it if she says something smart right now I’m going to lose it.

“I needed a drink.”

I laugh. What the fuck did she just say? “A drink? Do you have any idea what it’s like in there?”

She smirks and says, “I saw a bit.”

My fraying temper snaps. She needs to understand how lucky she is, how bad she scared me when I saw her in there. Before I know it, I’m right in her face. “You are to never go in there again, initiate. Got it? I could kick you out of Dauntless for this.”

Her eyes go wide and she’s holding her breath, but I don’t see fear in her eyes. Fuck, she wants to kiss me again.  Not right now, I’ll fucking break her in half. I step back and start pacing.

“Why did you need a drink so bad?”

“None of your business.”

Oh fuck, no she didn’t. Snarling, I smash the wall near her head. “Careful, initiate.”

She doesn’t answer and I can’t stand near her anymore, not this close to her without slamming her back against the wall and fucking her. I turn to leave while I still can.

“Because I can’t….sleep.” Her voice slaps me and I stop, panting, clenching my fists. The pain in her voice is rapidly tearing down the rest of my resistance.

Oh fuck it.

I whirl and launch myself at her. Yanking her hair back I crush my lips to hers, swallowing her cry of surprise. Fuck yeah, baby. Scream for me. She fucking pushes me, then pulls me back against her. Fuck, the woman undoes me. A noise I’ve never made before when I’m not inside a girl escapes me and I wrap my arms tighter around her, press my tongue against her mouth, let me in! She moans and opens her mouth, and I groan back, pushing her back against the wall. My cock is rock hard, pressed against her thigh.

I need her closer, I lift her leg to wrap around my waist and grind hard against her. I start biting down her throat and goddammit she throws her head back so I can reach her breasts, I bite at her nipple.

Fuck, I can’t take her here, she’s a virgin, it’s obvious I’m the first to really touch her like this. She starts pulling at my belt and with my last bit of strength I pull away, my chest heaving.

“No.” I growl.

Her face falls, does she really think I don’t want her?

“Not here.”

She frowns.

“You’re a virgin.”

She nods.

Fuck I knew it. I’m her first. I’m going to be her only! “Not here, not you’re first.” I whirl and drag her away.

I nearly fucking lose it halfway down the corridor by my apartment when Fox fucking starts nibbling on my neck, right along my leadership tattoos. I need her right fucking now! Half-falling inside my apartment I slam the door closed and throw Fox against it, press my whole body against her and kiss her. Fucking little minx, she opens her mouth for my tongue again and then wraps her leg around my waist; I’m fucking ready to spill, right there. Her turn to feel the burn, I rip her jacket off and fist my hand into that mane of hers, pull her head to the side and attack her throat. Fuck, the sounds she makes! I can’t fucking take it anymore, I lift her ass up and carry her to my bed. She fucking bites my neck and it’s almost game over. I drop her down onto my black duvet and she crawls up to the pillows, making my blood heat up all the more that I have to chase her. I kiss and lick my way up, then pull her shirt off; tie her hands above her head with it, it’s time she felt some of the frustration I’ve been fucking dealing with. I kiss those perfect breasts, first one than the other and it’s too hot in here. I rip off my shirt and the look she gives me fucking undoes me; I know I look good, but damn. Next are my pants, they’re too fucking tight right now with my hard-on anyway and I reach for her. Party time. Fear flashes through her eyes and stops me cold.

No, please. Don’t be afraid of me….What the fuck? No baby, please. I force myself to slow down, I was running too hot and scared her. Slow the fuck down, asshole. I lower myself down beside her, reach up and touch her cheek. Run my hands through that fucking amazing hair of hers and wait, can I kiss her again?

“Are you okay?” I keep my voice real soft.

“Untie my hands, please.”

Shit, no problem baby. I throw the shirt away and lay back, watching Fox begin to explore me with her hands. She traces patterns on my chest, lingering on my nipple piercings. Fuck, I want you so fucking bad, but I need to go slow, you’re a virgin, I can’t mess up your first time. Her hand continues down my stomach then stops. I decide to gently give her a little help. I cover her hand with mine and slowly lower it to my boxers. Her hand brushes my cock and it feels fucking incredible. The flash of lust in her eyes almost breaks my resolve to be gentle and slow with her, this feels better than any other woman I’ve been with. I need to let her have control, go at her own pace; even if it’s fucking killing me right now.

“Touch me, Fox.” I breathe, biting my lower lip. “You’re in control here.”

She looks up at me like she doesn’t believe me, and I nod.

Her hand drifts back down, and it takes all I’ve got to not come right there like a teenager when her fingers brush my cock then wrap around it. I roll onto my back, giving in completely, my hands fisted tight. Fox lays beside me, watching herself stroke me, and fuck baby! she lowers her head to take me in her mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut. FUCK!

“Fuck,” I hear myself moan, I’m trying to keep my hips still but this feels so fucking incredible, it’s too much, I’m going to embarrass myself. I roll up and grab her wrist.

“Fox, stop.” I grab her wrist and she looks uncertain again. I gently push her down on the bed. “If you keep that up, I’m going to come right now.”

Oh fuck, the grin she gives me!

“Let me touch you now.”

“Yes, Eric.” My blood nearly boils with the heat.

My turn. I always did enjoy going down on a girl, but something tells me Fox is going to be the best I’ve ever tasted.

I trace the scar on her lip, a silvery line that bisects her lips and lower my head to kiss her. She arches beneath me and I bite back a moan. I trail my lips down, kissing and nipping; working steadily down. She moans my name as I tease her nipples. I continue down to her jeans and look up, waiting for her to say yes. When she nods, I fucking yank those jeans off, and the delicious pink and black lace panties underneath too. I kiss along her thighs, savouring the sweetness until I stop at her pussy, then look back up. She better know what she’s getting into. There’s a flash of uncertainty, but she nods and I go for it. My first taste of her is fucking incredible and I groan as she cries out, her body arcing up off the bed. I roll my tongue along, by cock twitching, stroke with my fingers. Fuck this is amazing.

“Oh fuck, Eric.” I hear her moan.

I slowly push one finger inside her, fuck she’s so fucking tight, and add a second, my cock aching as she moans. I stroke in and out, preparing her for when I push my cock inside and she orgasms, nearly pulling me along as she comes on my face. Fuck, I can’t wait any longer. My mouth still wet, I crawl up to her head, kiss her again, my hand cupping between her legs.

“Yes, Eric.” She breathes those magic words.

“Are you sure? It will hurt at first.” She needs to know, I’m not a small guy.

“Yes.” She closes her eyes a moment, then opens them again, her eyes meet mine. Yes.

“Are you on the shot?” If not, I’ll use a condom, but it won’t feel half as good. Please be on the shot.


Fucking alright, game on.

Gently, I hold myself and begin slowly pushing into her. Fuck, she’s tight. She tenses and I watch her carefully. A tear falls and I feel like shit.

“Fox?” I cup her cheek. Suddenly, her own experience with me is more important. I can’t mess up her first time.

“Keep going, I want it to feel good.”

I reach her barrier and grit my teeth, this is going to hurt her, I push through and freeze, giving her time. She touches my cheek and I kiss her palm.

“Don’t stop.” Fuck, she’s fucking amazing.

I push all the way in, give her a minute then pull back out before filling her again. She moans and wraps her legs around me. Oh fuck.

“Fuck,” I can barely say it, my voice is almost gone, this feels so fucking good. I’ve been a few girl’s first and it’s never felt like this before. “You’re so fucking hot, Fox. And tight…fuck.”

"More.” Seriously? Fuck me.

I start thrusting harder and lose myself in the pleasure. Sex has never felt so fucking good before, this is so fucking amazing, Fox tight around me, her breathy moans as I thrust into her. I grab her hip, I’m going to leave bruises. Good, she’s mine.

“Oh god, Eric.” She moans, it sharpens to a cry as she comes again, arching beneath me. Oh fuck, I can’t hold out any longer. Feeling Fox pulse around me is too much and I let go, slamming into her one last time as I shudder and groan, fffuuuccckkkk. I can’t hold myself up anymore, I’m fucking spent, and collapse on her. I need to roll off before I crush her, but Fox wraps her arms around me instead, holds me close.

“Not yet.” She breaths. “This feels so good.”

Fuck yeah baby, it does. I wrap my arms around Fox as I feel myself fall asleep. Fuck, I’ve never felt so fucking good, so fucking relaxed, this woman is my undoing. What have I gotten into?

I come to the next morning as I hear a crash. What the fuck?

“What the fuck? Fox?” Fox is scrambling around, grabbing at her clothes. No, where are you going? Come back baby!

I can’t let her leave, not like this. “Fox? Slow down. Come back here.” Goddamn fucking sheets, my feet are caught!

She ignores me and runs for the door. No! Don’t leave!


The door slams and I fall back on the bed, my heart racing. Last night was the most incredible night of my life, Fox was even hotter in bed than I ever fantasized. I need her, again and again. I need her forever. Last night only confirms what I already know. I am hopelessly, completely in love with her. I am so fucked.


halloweek; day one

I’m Searching for Something That I Can’t Reach

Bellamy has been peacefully haunting his childhood home since his death in 1951 and has not seen a living human for 30 years when Clarke Griffin shows up, being chased by a knife wielding murderer.

based on prompt: ‘Bellamy has been peacefully haunting his childhood home since his death in 1951 and has not seen a living human for 30 years when Clarke Griffin shows up, being chased by a knife wielding murderer.’ for anonymous

written by: Meghan / @bellamyfrecklefaceblake
edit by: Sim / @lanaparrilla
word count: 5207 

Bellamy doesn’t mind being dead. Not really. Sure, at first it was hard. He stayed behind in his old house, watching his sister finish growing up and move on without him. That sucked.

When she moved out—to get married and start a family with someone Bellamy had never even met—he continued to stay behind in the house. And he’s been there—alone—for almost sixty years. He thinks. It’s hard to tell without having someone to gauge the passage of time from.

But, it really doesn’t bother him. Octavia cleaned out all of his things soon after he died, but before she was able to, he would sneak out from the attic—or basement, or wherever he was hiding out that day to keep out of his sister’s hair—and grab a few things he knew he would want. He had books. So many books. He had a couple of framed pictures of him with his friends. Some of his sister and mother. And, then, he had a couple of his records and his record player. It always surprised him that Octavia never noticed they were missing.

She’d spent a lot of time in his room in the first few months he was dead. But as time moved on, she realized she had to, too. And she did. She made new friends, but kept close with his. She met boys, but never brought them to their house. He only ever heard her talking to them on the phone or outside when they walked her home at the end of the night. On the nights she came home at all, that is.

Bellamy didn’t blame her for moving on. She was twenty-two when he had died and she had done everything she could to take care of him. But the sickness came on too quickly and by the time the doctors realized just how sick he’d gotten, it was too late. He was twenty-seven.

By the time Octavia had reached the age he’d been when he passed, she was engaged. She moved out just before her twenty-eighth birthday, leaving Bellamy alone with his books, pictures, and music that he’d kept hidden in the crawl spaces she never had to worry about when he was alive.

The house was in good condition when he died. It was in good condition when Octavia moved out. But, now, the elements have gotten to it and the lack of neighbors made it easy to forget. The house sits alone in the woods—the trees so overgrown that Bellamy can’t see out the windows anymore. But it’s okay.

He’s gotten used to being on his own. He can read his favorite books over and over—some for the hundredth time. He can listen to his favorite songs and remember the girls he was kissing when they played on the radio. He can look at his pictures and imagine all of the wonderful things the people he left behind were able to go on and do.

He has a lot of time to think about all of the things he never got to do—all of the things he hopes his friends and sister were able to. Bellamy never got to travel. He was too busy taking care of his sister after their mother passed away. He never got to fall in love. He fell into bed plenty of times, but never in love. He never got to give a speech at Miller’s wedding. He never got to have his own. He never got to have children. That hurt him the most.

Bellamy remains in that house, by himself, because it’s easiest. Whatever purgatory he’s in could be a lot worse. He still feels alive, even though he knows better. Sometimes he just sits in the middle of his old bedroom and switches between being completely invisible, to looking like a totally normal twenty-seven-year-old man. He keeps his eyes on his right hand as light begins to shine through it until it’s not there at all. He’s proud of that, actually. It took him quite a while to perfect.

What he’s not proud of, though, is how excited he gets when he hears voices outside of his house. He always listens for as long as possible. He misses human connection. Even while Octavia was still in the house, Bellamy had to keep to himself. He never minded being alone when he was alive—he thrived on it, usually. But after sixty-five years, it’s gotten a little old.

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You Work For Me Now

Yoongi/Reader mafia au oneshot

Genre: smut

Warnings: death threats, weak plot strong filth 

Word count: 2,859

A/N: I’ve done nothing but obsess over mafia aus for days now so this just kind of happened  


  Muffled voices could be heard from outside your door, which was strange because you’d been locked up for only an hour or so, you thought you’d be left alone for at least a few days.

  “He’s ready to see her now.”

  “She just got here, what’s the hurry?”

  “She’s been a pain in our neck long enough, I’m ready to see her gone and I’m sure the boss is too.”

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Under Arrest (Part 14 of Faking It)

And the kinks continue. Enjoy!

Read Faking It, Just Breathe, Sex Hair and Blindfolds, Cold as Ice, Rough Around the Edges, Sticky Sweet, Slow Burn, Adult Film 101, Date Night, Hell on Heels,  The More, The Merrier,  Even More, Even Merrier, and Hunter’s Aftercare.

 Warning: SMUTTY SMUT, sort of rough sex, police officer role play, use of handcuffs, reader gets a tiny bit Dom-like

Word Count: 3350ish

A/N: Thanks y’all. This series has seen so much love from you, and I appreciate every word. Still several more parts to come!

You couldn’t help but stare at Sam. He was dressed as a police officer, ready to go to work on the current case. You were sitting this one out, voluntarily this time, because it didn’t seem to need three people. But looking at Sam, tall and broad and looking all kinds of authoritative in that uniform, you were starting to question your big plans to crash at the motel.

Because Dean was going to come out of the bathroom any minute, also in uniform, and you sure as hell didn’t want to miss a second of that.

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czarinaczarina  asked:

Can you write a Jay park smut where he's the teacher and you're the student and yea: ) thank you

Originally posted by parkjaebums

I’m so screwed for my test next week which I really should be studying for right now at 420am instead of having sex with Jay in my head HAHA oh and the front got a bit wordy I’m sorry but here ya go! :-)

There’d always be that one hot teacher. The one whose classes girls would be religiously early for. The one whom girls would bother to put in the extra effort to impress be it in their class performance…or pretend to be a little dumber so they had the excuse of seeing him outside of class hours for ‘academic help’, or in peeling themselves off the bed earlier in the morning to paint their faces in heaps of makeup for a 9am class. It was no exception for you, except this time you didn’t have to resort to such lengths to get him to notice you.

Because you were dating him.

Jay Park. Or rather, now Mr Jay Park. The both of you had met when he was a senior in the school through the school’s dance club but him being so popular in school made the both of you extra cautious of your relationship. He wasn’t doing that fantastic in his grades, the teachers in school keeping him in their radar and accounting for any slight drop in his grades to his over commitment in dancing in an attempt to get the higher ups in the school to take some official action to get him to work on his studies nearing his graduation so being in a relationship wasn’t going to help the situation at all if the teachers came to know about it.

Post graduation however, he was back as a dance teacher, at the same time offering to stand in for other teachers whenever they called in sick in the courses that he did better in and things couldn’t get sneakier than it already was since then.

With teacher-student relationships being termed inappropriate, the both of you were left with no choice but to go low profile and all was good until you guys were caught making out in the stairwell of the emergency exit by a group of girls and things have been just awkward ever since with rumours spreading around the school.

As if awkward wasn’t enough, in an attempt to deny the rumours, you looked for him at his office much less often while he had become curter with you, no longer giving you the slight ‘special treatment’ with deadlines and being stricter with you during dance practices just so he could look more unbiased and hope that the people around school would just forget about it and move on but you started taking it personal when he took it too far – he started by entertaining female students when they were evidently flirting with him, reprimanding you in front of the class when you walked in five minutes late and even shouting at you when you messed up the dance steps that one time when everyone else got it right. Since then you started distancing yourself from him, no longer taking the initiative to look for him during school hours and of course, he started to take notice.

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with eyes shut, it’s you i’m thinking of 

summary:  even’s movies always manage to capture the grandeur of small, personal moments. some are more personal than others. (title from little bit by lykke li)

pairing: even/isak

words: 735

even’s new movie features those up and coming indie actresses that eva has a crush on, and for the premiere, isak wears a dolce and gabbana suit that he manages not to spill wine on. it feels like a whole new level of adulthood that he’s managed to ace. before they’d left, even had made him promise to pay attention - but how could he not, when even cares so much about isak’s amateur opinion? when he has even’s feet nervously tapping the floor next to him, his fingers ghosting over the palm of isak’s hand as the title shows on the screen? isak’s used to even throwing ideas at him every minute of the day - over breakfast, in the shower, post-early morning sex - but he’d kept his silence on this one.

the movie’s a love story, epic and loud, but the beauty in its small moments still shines through somehow. the girl who couldn’t hold her breath underwater, even calls it, because even’s an asshole who won’t let it go even when they’re old and greying. even’s halfway there already.

(“i’m only 25, isak, what the hell?” even had muttered as he grabbed the gray strand. “what’s next, wrinkles? my teeth falling out? will i start waving my cane around yelling at the kids to get off my damn lawn?”)

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Jealous much? - Dean Winchester x Reader - Part 3

Title: Jealous much?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Damon Salvatore x Reader

Word count: 2,208

Warnings: Some implications, language

Prompt: how about tvd spn crossover where Damons the readers ex & the reader currently hunts with Sam & Dean & they had to go back to mystic falls for whatever reason & Damon is really flirty with the reader & always bringing up stories of +when they were together & Dean gets jealous bc he likes the reader?

+ I lost the count with how many of you wanting more!

Read Part 1 here! l Read Part 2 here!

“I’m sorry to tell you but…” he sighed apologetically “…We’re gonna have to stay here for very long actually”

“You’re kidding me right? Please tell me you’re joking” you looked up at him, desperation written all over your face and he certainly could understand why.

“Oh dear. Castiel help me” you sighed, hiding your face in your hands.

Sam chuckled lightly “He’s kinda busy as well”

You shot him a glare “I wouldn’t be laughing in your place Winchester. I dread to think what can happen if those two stay close to each other any longer”

“Come on! What worse could happen?”

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anonymous asked:

I think Bella looked really bloated in the white outfit today. Belting really highlights that.

That white outfit she wore last night was so unflattering in every possible way. Those pants look too tight on her in general and then the belting doesn’t make it better; I get that belts are an accessory but on snug fitting, high waisted pants it’s just not a good look.