#tbh i have like. hints of tits. barely

[shevr]

justice for transfems nearing 1 year of hrt & still feeling like this shit's barely doing anything

[sinnamorolly]

Simple Request

18+, plus size reader, toji is beefyyyyy, use of princess, spitting, crude language, grinding, light smut tbh, unedited, (this was my first time writing in a while so feedback is greatly appreciated🫶🏾 )

“youre not picking me up toji.”

your boyfriend raises his eyebrow at this. he’d been trying to convince you to let him carry you around for the day after disclosing that your feet had been hurting from work. of course treating you like a princess for a day is the first thing that came to toji’s mind. although you knew he just wanted an excuse to have his hands on your ass. but seeing as no man had ever even tried to pick you up, you had already come to the conclusion that being carried around and jumping on your man was just something you couldn’t do. so now youre stuck sitting at your kitchen barstool in nothing but some panties and a t shirt waiting for toji to drop it so you could finish the cleaning you had planned.

“look baby,” he puts his hands on your bare thighs and pushes them open, stepping in between them to get even deeper into your space. he wraps one thick arm around your back and brings his other hand to your face. “I won’t drop you, i promise i can handle it. i’m a pretty big boy” he throws you a playful wink while flexing a massive bicep. you bite your lip while contemplating his words. even still, theres still a hint of insecurity in the back of your mind.

toji can see all the thoughts running through your pretty little head from his simple request and decides to help you make your decision. he moves so fast you dont even comprehend that hes holding you in the air til you scramble to wrap your limbs around him.

“Toji what the hell!” you move one hand to smack him on the chest. His body rumbles with laughter as he watches your little hand swat at him.

“you were talking too long to make up your mind beautiful” you narrow your eyes at him but end your attacks nonetheless. you begin to take note of his proximity to you, realizing that your pussy was right against his dick, your clothed tits pressing into his bare chest. you start to feel hot, as being this close to your man always made you, his scent almost intoxicating.

“so you picked me up, now what?” you question him. he gives you a sinister smile before walking you both over to the nearest wall. he gently presses you against it and leans in to place kisses on your exposed throat.

“Toji wait” but your voice is too breathy for either of you to believe you want him to stop. he hums against your skin as he licks and bites his way up to your ear. his breath is warm against your ear “grind that pussy on me pretty girl, don’t be shy” his deep voice goes right to your already dripping core. you begin to wind your hips against his, feeling his stiff erection through your thin panties. his head lowers to catch your lips in a heated and sloppy kiss. his tongue sucks yours into his mouth while your muffled moans vibrate through both of you.

your eyes widen as your boyfriend shifts to hold you with one arm while using support from the wall. his other hand comes up to grab you roughly by the throat, lightly squeezing. “open.” you follow his command instantly, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. he moves his hand up to use his thumb to pin your tongue to your chin. he spits right onto your tongue and immediately leans down to lick it right back off, your tastebuds dancing across each others. you let out a needy whimper as he grabs your face and detaches his mouth from yours but still holds you close enough that your lips brush. “you’re being so good for me princess, now” he moves his hand back down to your throat and cuts your air off completely, making your brain go fuzzy. “take my fucking dick out so i can put it in your stomach”

[rottenomelet]

warning(s): pet names (kitten), light bondage, creampie, riding, hints of kidnapping.

note: this ended up being wayyy softer than initially planned tbh. i wanted aizawa to do more whoring out but 💀 yuh anyways

-

pretty pink ribbon // yandere aizawa

…

“Come on.”

His voice, as gravelly as always, makes you flinch. You shake a little but try to steel yourself to do as told.

You’re on your knees, legs on either side of his body. Aizawa’s laying down with his head propped on some pillows, his long hair in a messy knot atop his head. You’re both naked - his tip just barely kissing your entrance.

You take one more deep breath before starting to sink down. His tip pops inside all too easily and it makes you near sick - it’s almost like it belonged/ inside of you.

Your wrists flex against your bindings behind your back as you take him inch by inch. Aizawa had your hands tied with a pretty pink ribbon, a mockingly perfect bow on top.

He looks all too happy to lay back and watch you, a lazy little smile on his face as you slowly take his cock inside.

The slide inside is easy, wet. As you take him, inch by tantalizing inch, your cunt feels full. It feels betrayingly good and you struggle to hold back a shiver once you’ve got him completely inside. You pause and try to catch your breath. You just need to calm down, get a grip on yourself.

‘Not turned on, not turned on. This doesn’t make me happy. I hate this man. Remember that he stole you away. God, please don’t cum. Not again.’

Aizawa tilts his hips up a bit, making you yelp. “Start riding, kitten. I don’t have all day.”

You may hate him but you know better than to defy him. Reluctantly, you start to bounce.

You can feel your resolve start to crack at just the first thrust. It feels so good/. Like all your best nerves are in your pussy, and his cock is brushing against every one of them. It doesn’t help that he’s been the only thing inside of you, touching you, for months. Your cunt has practically molded to fit his cock, and his alone.

Your breasts bounce along with you and embarrassingly, you feel his eyes watching them do so. Your fingers twitch but you do nothing to stop his heated gaze on your tits.

His hands go from behind his head to on you in an instant. One on your hip, squeezing, and the other to one of your jumping tits. His calloused fingers massage your boob for a moment before his thumb flicks your pebbled nipple. You moan at the feeling and he smiles.

You stop hopping in exchange for grinding - he can’t feel you up if you’re jumping like a bunny. The realization that you don’t want/ him to stop, that you like those rough hands on your soft tits, is horrifying. But you can hardly think when his tip is brushing that delicious/ spot inside of you.

“You’re so cute like this. All tied up with a bow, just for me.” The hand squeezing your hip travels south and makes it way to your hot mound. “Doesn’t this feel good?”

It’s sad how little coercion it takes for you to nod your head and moan - such a good little girl for him. “Yeah, yeah. Feels so, mmh, so good.”

His thumb reaches your clit now, pressing against it, as his other hand has taken to pinching your sweet nipple. “You like taking a ride on my cock?”

You can feel the pressure building. Oh gods, it’s gonna happen soon -

“I, I love it!” His thumb drives hard circles into your clit and it’s exactly what you needed to spill over. You throw your head back and your hips rock faster as your orgasm comes over you.

Your cunt pulsates and clenches and quivers. In the throes of your orgasm, you feel him thrust into you and cum. Ropes on white paint your walls and that only makes the orgasm sweeter.

You collapse onto his chest. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer.

You know you’ll come to regret it in the morning, that you’ll cry and claim that you won’t enjoy it next time. You know you’ll go back on those words tomorrow night, when his hands caress your skin and he whispers in your ear. But for now, you’ll rest and listen to the sound of his beating heart.

[shockinglysubmissive]

Hii

How would Dabi be around a cute & soft innocent S/O? 😈 I feel like he’d have the need to tease and “corrupt” them and break them tbh

Hello!

He would absolutely have a corruption kink. But he would gaslight the fuck out of them too. Dropping 'subtle' hints about wanting to destroy them, but when confronted, turn it around and blame them for having a dirty mind.

"Dabi... Why did you flip my skirt up during the meeting? That was embarrassing." You whine, finally confronting the scarred villain, who was stretched out on the couch in front of you.

"what are you talking about doll? I wouldn't do that. Ya must've put it on wrong cause it was caught in those lace panties of yours. I was just trying to help you." His blue eyes barely even leave the TV in front of him.

"no! That's not what happened! I felt you lift it!" You insist, stomping your foot lightly.

He tuts in mild annoyance. "If I wanted to embarrass you, I wouldn't just flip your skirt. That's childish. And if ya keep stomping like that, your tits will pop outta your shirt." He retorts, smirking as the angry expression you hold falters slightly.

"Ya know, I'm starting to think you're doing all this just to rile me up. Accusing me of flipping your skirt, just so you can pout and flaunt those tits in my face. You must really want me to put you in your place, huh brat?" He sits up, leaning his forearms against his knees.

"N-no! That's not it at all!" You squeak, arms covering your chest, where his eyes have become focused.

But you couldn't help but wonder, did he have a point? Maybe you were doing all this for his attention.

And just like that, Dabi had cracked your mind, planting the first seeds in your brain. Soon, you'll be his obedient cock sleeve.

[footballffbarbiex]

The Bucket List pt 1 snippet.

player: leon goretzka words: 1666 snippet words: 388 warnings: this chapter has barely any warnings tbh. it's them creating a sexual bucket list. the next part though will include leon receiving oral from another male and the two engaging in protected sex. oc isn't necessarily cuckolded as it's her fantasy but she doesn't actively take part in the sexual encounter. so please keep this in mind if you do read decide to read this as it will not contain f/m sex. 

I've tried not to split requests anymore but this one is too detailed of a request that I didn't want to rush it. It needs to be perfect (and writing 2 sets of "his/he" is more difficult than I thought when it's not you/she receiving anything) and so I hope this is a good set up for the final part next month.

To read The Bucket List. pt 1 click the link. This will not be coming to tumblr.

-

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Leon asks, his own notepad held tightly to his chest as he takes off his glasses and lays them on the coffee table.

The two of you have spent the better part of an hour scribbling away at your pages, umm’ing and aahh’ing over what to write down. It should have been a short conversation. Something to laugh at almost while also exposing a side of yourselves that you hadn’t yet explored and admitted to anyone. A sexual bucket list was personal to you and there were certainly kinks and things that you found turned you on mentally but would never want to act out in person. While at the same time, there are a lot of acts that you hadn’t yet tried and you wanted to desperately.

The movie that had brought about the discussion remained paused to the point that the streaming service had timed out and taken you back to the original menu. Leon had been intrigued, wanting to know what secrets your mind had held in comparison to his. To almost everyone, including Leon, you appeared small and meek beside him. He had always been more open about some of the things he wanted to do over the course of your relationship.

He’d throat trained you, making it more than capable to take all eight and a half inches of him without worry. He’d happily fuck your face, leaving you a spit covered mess gasping for breath as he’d soften before you prior to helping clean you up. He’d tie you up, secure you in place and tease you for what felt like hours before finally giving you release. He’d incorporate food into your sex lives - whipped cream, melted chocolate, ice, even champagne which he’d drunkenly slurp from between your tits and down your navel. But what’s on your list is going to make his last requests feel like childsplay.

Leon had hinted enough or come out straight with what he’d wanted throughout the course of the relationship but you knew that because of the way he perceived you, he wouldn’t dare try and push your boundaries. Or even entertain the thought of it and so this was your chance to open his eyes to show that you were so much more than you’d let on.

[saetoru]

Also don’t let me forget best friend’s wedding scenario where Obito and Rin are getting married and you’re Kakashi’s date and he rails you in the bathroom when he’s supposed to be up there being the best man—

BEST MAN — HATAKE KAKASHI.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ hatake kakashi x reader — 1.6k words — not even weddings can stop kakashi from getting what he wants

≣ warnings ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, au where everyone lives idfk, quite a smug/menace kakashi tbh, semi public sex, fingering, orgasm denial, hand jobs, teasing + begging, unprotected sex, he pulls out tho

≣ notes ⋮ HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FIRST ANIME LOVER YOU ARE MY HANDSOME (and tragic </3) BELOVED. ALEKS TY FOR UR CONTRIBUTIONS TO SOCETY BESTIE

“don’t you have…oh, i don’t know, things to do,” you roll your eyes—but still, you can’t seem to wipe the grin off your face when kakashi’s mask slides down his face, pooling at his chin as he nuzzles his nose against your neck.

“yeah, you,” he grins into your skin, chuckling when you swat at his shoulder.

“how smooth,” you snort. there’s a line of kisses he presses from your neck to your collarbone, making you sigh softly as your eyes flutter shut—but then you realize where you are. where you should be. “kakashi, you’re the best man—”

“it’ll be quick,” he reasons, hands smoothing down your sides before rubbing over your hips. he’s got you backed against the wall, the cool tile pressing against your back through the fabric of your dress.

sometimes, you think kakashi does everything he can to spite obito, just to rile him up—whether it’s eating one extra bowl of ramen to outdo him or making a snide comment. there’s fondness laced between every instance, and it’s a rather amusing dynamic to watch any other time, but you can’t help but think about your friend. it’s his wedding, with the girl he’s pined over for years, and you think there’s a time and a place.

but then kakashi’s lips are brushing against the sweet spot behind your ear, and your thoughts muddle just a bit.

“you’re a horrible best man,” you mumble, gasping when his hands cup over your tits, kneading them gently as he sucks along your skin, “kashi—”

“yeah?” he chuckles, and if your eyes weren’t too busy being closed, they might just roll at the way he sounds so pleased with himself. “need something?”

“either do something, or get back up there,” you hiss.

“gladly.” his voice is a low, breathy chuckle, but the same hints of desperation linger in his tone like the way your fingers curl into his hair. you gasp when he reaches under your skirt, pulling it over your waist and tugging the hem of your underwear until it slips down your legs.

he tries not to smirk at the wetness pooled at your core—but he’s nothing if not a little cocky, thumb barely tracing over your clit and making you whine.

“stop teasing,” you gasp, pushing your hips closer, trying to ease the ache between your legs as you chase the friction from his fingertips.

but he’s a bastard—the same one that was far too arrogant as a child, the same one that pushes obito’s buttons, the same one that drives you up the wall…the same one who fucks you in the middle of your best friends’ wedding day.

“just a minute ago, you said i had things to do,” he hums, “now you’re begging me to do something,” his eyes crinkle at the edges from that smile of his. the smile that makes your heart stutter and brings the sun to her knees, the smile that’s oftentimes the calm before the storm.

and before you can scold him, his fingers plunge into your heat, curling into your most sensitive spots and make your lips part in a shaky gasp. your fingers tug at his hair, making him grunt as he bullies his digits into you, pressing against the bundle of nerves that have your legs shaking. his palm rolls over your clit, and he lets out a smug little chuckle when you whine against his shoulder.

“k-kashi, please—”

“so wet already,” he coos, “it’s like you’ve been waiting for me. i bet you were. bet you were waiting for me to fuck you in this little dress of yours all night, huh?”

kakashi likes to think of himself a respectful man. he likes to think of himself as someone who upholds his responsibilities with integrity. unlike obito, he’s punctual and mature, he does things meticulously and thoroughly—like how he sinks his fingers right against your sweet spot with perfect precision.

but you smiling brightly in that cute dress of yours, all dolled up as you reapply lipgloss every now and then awakes something in him—something carnal and desperate, something that makes him forget his commitment of best man, even if for just a little while.

he brings your lips into a messy kiss, swallowing up your moans as he fucks you with his fingers, pressing harshly against your sweet spot as you cry into his lips. your hands have taken to gripping at his shoulders now, clutching tightly onto his blazer as he steadily builds your orgasm, the dull ache growing into something more devastating with every sink of his digits into your dripping cunt.

just as you feel yourself reach the precipice of your high, he retracts his hand, making your whine desperately against his mouth.

“no—kashi, so close,” you whimper, making him chuckle smoothly against your forehead as he kisses it sweetly. his erection is straining in his slacks—hard and painful and aching to sink into your soft walls.

he’s quick to free himself, hissing as the cool air slaps against his heated skin, the fat head of his cock reddened and leaking with pre cum. you reach to wrap your fingers delicately around his throbbing member, pulling a strained groan from his throat immediately as his head falls to your shoulder.

with labored pants, he moans into the crook of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his breath hits your skin while your hand smears the pre cum along his length. he bites your shoulder when your squeeze around him before stroking up and down his cock.

“fuck,” he breathes, a low moan rumbling from his chest as you move your other hand to cup his balls, fondling them gently as he breathes through short huffs.

he lets you pump his cock like that for a while before his hand stops you, before it’s too late. he’s gritting his teeth as the sweet friction of your hand cuts off, and your arms instantly find their way around his neck, pulling him close as he lines himself with your entrance. he drags his tip along your folds and collects your slick around the blunt head of his cock, tapping against your clit, making you mewl as your head falls back against the wall.

“kashi, please,” you whine, making him growl against your jaw as he sucks on the skin.

“please what? i wanna hear it.”

“please fuck me,” you don’t hesitate, too lost on the desperation to feel him curve into your cunt, dragging along your folds with every rock of his hips.

but he’s not that easy to give in—reaching to pinch your cheeks together as he forces your to look into his eyes.

“here? in the middle of the wedding? you wanna fuck the best man in the middle of the wedding?”

“yes, yes please,” you sob, hips pushing up to grind against him, “wan’ you to fuck me right here,” you plead.

he doesn’t waste a moment, slipping into you with a swift thrust of his hips, groaning against your mouth as you whimper when you feel him bury himself to the hilt.

“so fuckin’ tight,” he rasps, moaning when you squeeze around him, the clench of your walls hugging tightly around his swollen cock. he rolls his hips desperately, impatient in his movements as sweat collects across his forehead.

“fuck—kashi, so deep,” you gasp, feeling him drill into you, curving into your sweet spot as the veins of his cock drag along your walls. you think you can feel him all the way in your throat, burying himself deep into you like he was always made to fit into your pussy all along. his navel bumps along your clit, making you whine from the sensitivity, tears pricking your lash line as you feel yourself reach closer and closer to your peak.

“you close?” he grunts, voice strained as it cracks in the middle. you nod, too busy moaning to form real words—and he’d be all the more smug if he wasn’t so focused on approaching his own high. “me too, so fucking close,” he groans, forehead pressing against yours.

“me too, me too kashi—‘m gonna cum,” you mewl.

“then cum,” he growls, and with one more roll of his hips, his thumb finding your clit to rub harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves, you come undone, spasming around him as you cry out.

he cuts your off with his lips, muffling your sounds as he kisses you sloppy and heated, as if he’s drinking in every sound you make like a parched man in the summer’s heat. you whimper into his mouth, letting him fuck you through your orgasm, panting harshly against your lips as he feels himself approach his own.

“fuck, ‘m almost there—oh sh-shit,” he curses, pulling out from your abused cunt and stroking himself quickly, choked moans ripping from his throat as he cums with thick ropes, painting your thighs with his mess. his forehead falls to yours once more, eyes fluttering shut as his lips part with short gasps. you watch him, eyes wide and hazed, entranced as he falls apart so beautifully before you.

neither of you make a move to separate as he finishes, head still pressed against yours as you catch your breaths slowly.

“they’re going to kill us when they find us,” you say woefully after a bit, pulling a snort from him as he opens his eyes.

“then let’s just stay here so they can’t,” he grins.

“no,” you say sternly, eyeing your cum coated thighs wearily. he smirks as he follows your gaze, and his cock almost twitches back to life at the sight of your skin dripping with his mess.

“bet i could convince you if i really wanted,” he says cheekily, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. you roll your eyes fondly, smoothing back his sweaty locks as best as you can.

“you really are the worst best man,” you snort.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

[butwhyduh]

I've just finished reading your Christmas bat boys series and I love them all 🥺🥺! I don't want to be greedy but could you write morning/boxing day breakfast scene for the boys(TM)? I'd love that! If not then that's fine too. You've already provided us with quality content 👌

💕💕

So I’m from the US and we usually don’t celebrate Boxing Day. So I’ll probably do something wrong but that’s okay. That’s how Americans do holidays anyways. But I refuse to believe Alfred Pennyworth wouldn’t celebrate for one second. So I firmly believe this was the day that most of the kids and even Bruce would indulge Alfred and do what he wanted.

When they were kids it was enough to simply put the sweets down and take a proper post Christmas shower. Jason Todd had been incredibly excited to learn about Boxing Day because he thought it was a family fight day. Uh, yeah, good food and watching some boxing was nice too, he had guessed. Not a lot was certain, but sausage rolls and some kind of sports game on Boxing Day was one of them in the Wayne’s household.

Damian

You woke up to the familiar scent of Damian. But he wasn’t within arms reach. Where was he? How did you get up in his room anyways? You sat up to see him sleeping on the floor. Poor guy. It couldn’t be comfortable, could it? You tried to climb out of bed but the soft rustle of the sheets woke Damian. He sat up quickly only to relax.

“Morning,” you said.

“Good morning. How did you sleep last night?”

“Good. You didn’t have to sleep on the floor. That looks uncomfortable,” you said feeling guilty.

“It’s alright. I’ve slept in worse places,” Damian said and you were reminded of his child soldier past. You frowned. “It’s truly fine, beloved. Let’s get down to breakfast.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. You threw on one of his sweaters and went down. Alfred was in the kitchen this morning and had a platter piled high with some sort of pastry that he was bringing to the breakfast nook. You and Damian slid into the seats and you looked at the beautiful white grounds of Wayne Manor through the large viewing window.

“Would you like coffee, tea, juice, hot cocoa,” Alfred asked you both before bringing your drink. It was nice to be the first up. Alfred brought Damian curried tofu scramble and fried mushrooms and tomatoes. (You too if you are vegan/vegetarian).

Bruce came in the room and sat across from Damian. It was almost funny to see the billionaire in sleep pajamas. A large cup of coffee was placed before him and he had a steaming plate of everything Damian ate plus sausage rolls and a protein shake. It was quiet for a few minutes.

“You slept on the floor last night,” Bruce said quietly as he read the news on a tablet. He rolled his eyes at the article “Local Reporter Clark Kent gets Pictures of Superman in action.”

“Yes. All night, father. You knew that,” Damian said with a bored hint of annoyance as he ate.

“Good. If either of you needs to speak to an adult in the matter of love or relationships, I am well acquainted with several child psychologists as well as a number of medical doctors,” He said casually. You almost choked on your food before taking a large gulp of your drink.

“Father. Not at breakfast,” Damian chided. His ears had a soft redness and he pointedly looked out the window instead of at either you or Bruce. You stared at your plate.

“I think I hear Jason awake. I’d better catch him before he leaves. Excuse me,” Bruce said before leaving.

“Sorry. He’s.... awkward. He thinks he needs to teach us about sexual education. A little late,” Damian said with a laugh.

“A little late? Oh,” you said. Damian quickly looked at you.

“Not that way. We’ve just, we learned in school. Not that I’ve- I think someone’s coming in here,” Damian said grateful for the distraction.

Dick and his fiancé walked in. He had his hand around her waist and the pair seemed glued together. They sat down at the same time with a giggle. They probably hadn’t even noticed you both there.

“Are you done?” Damian asked and you nodded. You couldn’t handle watching them.

You both went upstairs to his room again. Damian awkwardly sat on the bed.

“You know,” you started. Your face felt flush. “If you did want to talk about it, I’d be here.”

“Oh. Do you mean,” he started to ask.

“Sex. Yeah. It’s fine if you don’t. Seriously. Just saying...” you trailed off. He looked at you intensely. When Damian Wayne was thinking hard on something, his face became completely imperceivable.

“Maybe. Soon?” He said hopefully. You nodded. “Wanna watch a movie? You’ve got to go home in a few hours.”

“Yeah sounds great.”

Dick

You woke up feeling like a puzzle piece. An arm was thrown across your back and legs wrapped in yours as you laid on Dick’s chest. His heartbeat was steady in your ears. You couldn’t get much closer to him if you tried. You moved to get up because the bathroom was calling your name.

“Baby,” he groaned and wrapped his other arm tightly around you. You tried to pull out while shushing him back to sleep. There was no way you could pry yourself from his grasp unless he wanted you to with his incredible grip strength. “Stay with me,” Dick begged. “Just a little more.”

“I’ve got to use the bathroom,” you protested and he finally let you go with a big pout.

When you came back, his rough fingers pulled you by your bare thighs back in bed. His dress shirt and panties weren’t exactly the warmest clothing. You landed on him with a giggle. Dick quickly wrapped you both back in the blanket.

“Good morning, fiancé,” he said softly. His fingers traced soft circles on your back.

“Fiancée,” you said back with a smile. Dick kiss you softly. Morning breath and all. He finally pulled away.

“It’s Boxing Day. Alfred’s sausage rolls. Are you hungry,” he said finally releasing you.

“Yeah. A little. Especially after last night,” you said getting up and finding some clothing.

“I know, right,” Dick said and his face was basically this emoji 😏. You rolled you eyes and slipped on his sweater and a pair of sweatpants.

Dick couldn’t keep his hands off of you. He held your hip while walking downstairs and laced his fingers in yours as you ate breakfast. His plate was piled high with the pastry and he drank a green protein shake with it. Was there anyone else in the room with you? Maybe? Who knows? Who cares?

After breakfast you both said goodbye to his family before leaving back to Bludhaven. You and Dick stayed in bed for a good portion of the afternoon and when he went on patrol, he looked at you wistfully before leaving.

Tim

Tim could sleep through a hurricane in a canoe. He missed a lot of sleep and when he finally laid on his pillows, lights out. He didn’t move. He didn’t snore. And God hisself couldn’t wake this man before at least 5 hours had passed.

And when he woke up on the day after Christmas, he was incredibly disoriented after getting 9 hours of sleep. He vaguely felt someone laying in his chest and he looked down. Oh yeah, you. He slept so hard, he forgot he had a girlfriend for 2 minutes. He would never tell you that.

“Sunshine,” he said running his fingers on your arm. “Wake up.”

You slowly stirred to look at him. You laughed instantly. His hair stuck up everywhere. Probably a side effect of having his face between your legs last night. He looked at you confused.

“You need a shower before you do anything, Timbo,” you said with a smile.

“Back at you. Wanna join me,” he asked with a eyebrow wag.

“I think I’ll pass with all your family awake. Last night was pushing it,” you said, giving him a kiss. He leaned towards your face to continue the kiss as you pulled back. His hands held your hips but released them easily when you pulled away. He had a pout on his lips but got up to shower anyways. You both got ready before going downstairs.

Alfred slid a cup of coffee in Tim’s hand before you even made it to the breakfast nook. You poured a large one for yourself after seeing the scene. Dick and his fiancé were half an inch from making out at the table. It was too early for this madness.

Tim gave you a knowing look. He certainly wasn’t the only one getting play in his childhood room last night. You rolled your eyes.

Tim grabbed a few pastries and a protein shake. It was funny the first time you learned he drank them religiously. He didn’t look the type. Dick on the other hand... But Tim was naturally thin and couldn’t hold weight on his body to save his life. A protein shake at every meal helped replace the calories he lost through work, lack of sleep, and his insanely fast metabolism.

Tim’s phone rang. No surprise there. You were honestly surprised that Tim’s phone hadn’t rung earlier or last night. He sighed and answered it. His breakfast was probably going to be interrupted. He talked for a few minutes before hanging up.

“Sunshine,” he started.

“You’re busy, Wayne Enterprise. Have to leave soon,” you guessed. He looked regretful.

“Yeah. I’ll make it up to you tonight. I’ll call you a car when you’re ready to leave. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Tim said. He quickly shoved food in his mouth and gulped down his coffee. “I’ve got to go.”

Jason

You woke up frozen. You were not under any blankets and tbh your tits were like icy. Your stomach was really warm tho. You looked down to see Jason’s head between your bare breasts and his body slotted between your legs. He clung on you like a monkey and gently snored. The blankets were on the floor. The activities of the night before had you flushing. Yeah that had been fun.

You ran your fingers through his hair to wake him gently. You didn’t want to jerk him awake but you were frozen. Jason slowly stirred and rubbed his face into your bare skin before groaning.

“Fuck it’s cold,” he grumbled, wrapping himself tighter around your body.

“Get up. I’m cold,” you said and he begrudgingly released you. He stood up and you realized that you both were completely naked. He grabbed some sweatpants and threw them on before throwing the blanket on you. You snuggled in the warm fabric. You were lulled back to sleep for a few more minutes.

You woke up alone. There was a note on the dresser.

Get dressed and come downstairs to the breakfast nook Princess- Jay

You grabbed one of his black sweaters and threw it on with your pants you wore the night before. You saw Bruce slide Jason the keys and he confirmed it with you afterwards. Your mind couldn’t process that.

Jason pulled you to the breakfast nook. Dick and his new fiancé were leaving and Tim was rushing out with business. His girlfriend left shortly after. Bruce, of course, had already started working on business or whatever mysterious stuff he always did.

Jason ate every single sausage roll and the rest of the vegetables that you didn’t eat. Alfred came and sat at the table with you both. Usually not what he would do but Jason always insisted. The older man nursed a cup of coffee and you all looked out the large viewing window. You couldn’t get over how huge the place was.

“Alfred, can you tell me stories about Jason when he was a kid?” You asked and Alfred smiled.

“I have many of Master Jason’s childhood. He was always a boisterous lad. Still is I suppose,” Alfred said taking a sip of his drink. Jason smiled. He had an arm thrown over your shoulder.

“When he was 14, Jason tried to climb the chandeliers in the front entry, as Master Richard had many times. Well, Jason was probably 20 lbs heavier than Richard even at that age. The chandelier came down with a resounding bang. Jason had broken a toe. This was the morning before a gala at the Manor. Master Bruce was far from pleased,” Alfred said. You laughed.

“The chandelier got reenforced and now Dick can swing on it to his heart content. I’ll leave the acrobats to him though,” Jason said with a laugh.

“I wish I could have seen it,” you laughed.

Alfred sat with you both for the better part of an hour, just telling funny stories about the boys and Bruce. Alfred stood up.

“I really do have work to do if I hope to catch the game this afternoon. I hope you both understand. But one last thing before you go, Master Jason. Bruce has been talking about leaving you the penthouse for years. He just needed a push to finally give it to you. I hope you both enjoy it,” Alfred said before leaving the room.

“Let’s, uh, let’s get going,” Jason said abruptly. He was feeling uncomfortable emotions. It wasn’t the first time and you indulged him without asking any questions before leaving.

Bruce

He had a pounding headache when he woke up. He was hung over. He had impeccable hearing and the noises from 3 of his 4 sons rooms (as Duke and Cass had patrolled after the party) had him finding a bottle of whiskey. Was Jason purposefully being loud? At least Damian’s room was quiet. Bruce couldn’t handle that. Of course that didn’t guarantee anything. But he was willing to put up with it so that his boys could be home. But yeah, sound proofing on their bedrooms was a priority. Jesus Jason, wtf?

Giving Jason the penthouse was not a plan. But Bruce was grateful because the Jason’s Christmas list had been “gun.”

Dick’s list was “a break.” Bruce got him a pair of jet skis. That would be a good distraction.

Tim had asked for “a day off.” Bruce gave him tickets for 2 to Hvar, Croatia in January for 2 full weeks in a snowy cabin.

Damian had asked for a certain set of Wakizashi swords. He got the swords.

Alfred asked for a pasta maker and Bruce bought him a ticket to Italy for a week to pick one up.

Also: 3 days after Christmas, Tim recieved a camouflage gun themed snack gift basket with the card reading “duck next time-Jay”

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Bakusquad and body shots

Bakugou

-mouth shots

-Bakugou doesn’t drink much 

-but when he does oh boy

-Bakugou doesn’t know how to do anything in moderation 

-he gets absolutely shitfaced 

-He is a giggly drunk

-laughs at everything and is way more likely to go along with anything. 

-He also becomes way more flirty

-Will tell pretty much everyone he sees that they look hot as fuck

-including Kirishima, who gets the whole thing on video It’s great

-you’re having a great time just walking around watching drunk Bakugou. 

- “you want to do shots?” you asked 

- “only if I can take it from your mouth,” He was REALLY trashed at this point

-and I mean you’re pretty tipsy too and If Bakugou Katsuki wants you to spit tequila into his mouth you're going to fucking do it

-you throw back the glass but don’t swallow, then Bakugou cups your cheeks and kisses you, hanging your head slightly above his

-you open your mouth and let the alcohol trickle past your lips to his. 

-ngl a lot of it spills over his face but not the point 

-but it definitely doesn’t end there he pushes his tongue into your mouth and the two of you end up making out at the bar

- “want another Shot?” 

Mina

-classic body shots

-Mina is a party girl she definitely knows how to handle her liquor

-so she’s careful not to get drunk but just, buzzed.  

-She loves to dance and will pull you onto the dance floor first chance she gets

-she is a loud drunk 

-Mina LOVES to sing along to every song that comes on even if she doesn’t know it that well

-TBH she really wants to do body shots whether shes drinking the shot or not 

-If you even hint that you are down to do a body shot she will be all over you

-she likes the classic shot, Salt on the neck, lime between your lips, shot glass squished in between your tits

-She lays you down on a table and straddles your hips. 

-She makes a big show of it because you KNOW there is a whole ass crowd watching you two. 

-She licks your neck and giggles in your ear

-definitely, a tease and will make eye contact with you while she drinks the shot and takes the lime from your mouth. 

-She will definitely offer you to do one off her too, I mean It’s only fair right?

Kaminari 

-backshots

-you got a pair of sexy dice for your Birthday 

-You would say they were to spice up things up in the bedroom but honestly, you thought they were funny as hell

- So you two were messing around with them and drinking a little too much for your own good. 

-Kami is an emotional drunk 

-he just loves you so much and it really comes out when He’s had too much to drink 

-will stare into your eyes fro a couple of minutes then start crying 

-you are just so pretty and he loves you so much

-so while you were drinking you weren’t drinking enough to make him start crying

-eventually, the dice tell him to do a shot off your back and honestly, you are just glad it wasn’t out of your ear or something

- you take your shirt off and get on to your hands and knees

-Kaminari laughs and pours something on your back

-you start laughing too because it’s so cold and he licks it up fast so you don’t spill onto the bed sheets

-He’ll probably pour himself another shot, and grab your hips so you can’t move around too much

-this time he’s slow takes his time drinking from the small of your back  

-it quickly turns into a game seeing all the places he could use as a shot glass

-It’s a lot of fun even if he is hungover in the morning

Kirishima

-stomach shots

-Kiri is the type to either forget you are his girlfriend and try to hit on you or gets mad at you for hitting on him because he has a girlfriend damn it

-He is a disaster drunk not going to lie. 

-He can barely stand upright and WILL start a fight with a street lamp if you let him

-Also, his shirt is definitely gone idk where it went 

-it’s probably best to take him home at this point

-on the car ride home, he turns the flirting up to eleven

-will probably even slide his hand up your thigh

-you were planning on just dropping him off

-but he pulls you into his room on the promise of “just one more drink”

- he tosses you onto his bed and starts taking off your clothes for you. 

-He’ll mutter something about “having always wanted to try this,”

-then without warning, he pours tequila  into your belly button and drinks it

-NGL watching him do it is hot as fuck and damn you had almost forgotten how good he was with his tongue. 

-it probably would have gone further but right after that he fell asleep on your chest 

-It’s okay tho cus he’s a cutie

Sero 

-tit shots

-It was a game of Truth or Dare/ drinking game 

-He is a mellow drunk 

-he gets very tired might have fallen asleep already once or twice. 

-Sero is also very honest when he’s drunk.

-straight up ask him anything and he’ll answer honestly he has no filter

-Mina dared him to do a body shot off you

-that sure as hell woke him up a little bit

-and even though it wasn’t his idea he is so down

-you are also pretty drunk at this point and there is no way in hell you are lying down cus you might not get back up

-you also couldn’t get and lime slices or salt so you stick a shot glass between your tits and call it good enough

-and oh boy is it good enough for Sero

- Highkey a boob man

-you kinda have to squish your boobs together to make the glass stick and the sight of you cupping your own breasts like that really gets him going. 

-his noes gets buried in your cleavage as he takes a drink

-he can feel you breathe, hear your heartbeat, feel how warm your skin is

-even though he’s you’re boyfriend he’s never felt this close to you 

-it’s probably just the Alcohol making him feel that way 

-there are loud whoops and cheers from his friends and their presence is the only thing that makes him get out of your shirt. 

-once you two go home he will fall asleep on your chest and stay there 

[ohmightydevviepuu]

our little life (rounded with a sleep) / chapter 1

our little life (rounded with a sleep) chapter one / AO3

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful detective. She had blonde hair, green eyes, no family, and she was good at finding people; in fact, she proclaimed this on her office door. “Swan and Humbert,” it said. “Private investigations, missing persons, and bail bonds.”

Only lately, she's been thinking that maybe it should say "Emma Swan: Loner, Loser, Complicated wreck."

Her partner's been killed on a case after she made a deal with her landlord to find what had been taken from him. But when she tracks a possible perp to a bar on the outskirts of town, Emma will find out exactly how deep the rabbit hole goes.

(a FULL rewrite of "the stuff that dreams are made of" completed as part of the 2020 Captain Swan Big Bang Rewrite-a-Thon)

--

with awe and infinite thanks to @captainswanbigbang and the team of mods there ( @optomisticgirl,  @phiralovesloki, @spartanguard, @shippingtheswann)   for running an insanely first-class event.  thanks also to the crew in the discord, who helped me plug MANY a plot hole, and especially to @shireness-says who kept me accountable on so many nights when i was floundering.  

i lost track of how many times i begged @thisonesatellite, @profdanglaisstuff and @katie-dub to read or re-read sections of this; especially to @thisonesatellite who’s been working with me on this story since before the event was official and dedicated many countless hours to suggesting--gently--that i stop banging my head against the wall.  @profdanglaisstuff came through and saved this story AT LEAST three times.  (that is probably a lowball estimate TBH)

--

CW:  canonical character death (minor character) rating:  T/M (mild implied violence, language) AO3

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful detective.

She had long, blonde hair that curled just so at the edges of a face with skin as fair as snow, save for the hint of a blush across the apples of her cheeks.  Her eyes glinted green, like emeralds in the sunlight, and the fall of her lashes was thick and dark.  Emma Swan looked like nothing so much as a fairy-tale princess, but if Emma Swan knew one thing about her life it was this: nothing about it was a fairy tale.

Her hair, for starters, was the product of nearly an hour’s work in front of a mirror most days, curling it and drying it and styling it just so. Twenty minutes perfecting the “no makeup” aesthetic with no less than three base layers before the foundation swept across her cheeks; the thickest mascara wand she could find and the darkest shade of black available completed the look unless she was feeling particularly ambitious and added lash primer.  Contact lenses instead of glasses, though her eyes were naturally green which meant that at least one of her parents probably had green eyes, too, not that Emma knew for sure either way.  But she was beautiful, which was a thing she did know for sure, capping it all off with a carefully curated collection of leather jackets and knee-high boots, black trousers and jeans and pencil skirts, for a look that said very clearly do not fuck with me.

Emma was her actual given name, or at least it was according to the one tangible thing--besides her eyes--that she knew she had gotten from her parents. The letters had been lovingly stitched into the hand-knitted blanket in which she had been found near a diner by the side of the road in Bumblefuck, Maine sometime in the first few hours after she had been born.  Her last name, Swan, had been attached by the one family who had considered adopting her, and had stuck on every piece of official paperwork that followed her from foster home to foster home after they had traded her in to have their own kid.  Sometime around her fourteenth or fifteenth birthday, soon after the first time she had run away, Emma had decided she might as well keep it as not.  Something about believing in herself and saying ‘fuck you’ to fate because no one else was going to do it for her.

No fairy godmothers in this world.

Emma Swan also had a talent:  She was good at finding people, and she proclaimed this fact on her office door.  “Swan and Humbert,” it said.  “Private Investigations.  Missing Persons.  Bail Bonds.”

So, Emma Swan was twenty-eight, as of today; beautiful, but prickly, which was the nice way that people said it.  “Unfeeling bitch” was what Graham Humbert called her, and most days, he meant it as a compliment. 

Last night he had meant it to wound her.  “Heartless bastard” was what she had called him in return after he’d crossed a line she had never intended them to cross.  As Emma pushed the office door open, she was wondering if she should change it to “Emma Swan:  Loner, Loser, Complicated Wreck” before deciding that would probably scare potential clients away.

And for now, at least, she still had a partner.  If she hadn’t scared him away, too.  Emma was furious just thinking about it--their partnership was supposed to be easy and constant, one of the few reliable things she’d found in this life she’d scraped together for herself.

“He’s not here, is he?” Emma asked, sighing, as she walked into the outer office.

“Mmmm?” Ruby murmured, not looking up from her makeup mirror as she fluffed her waist-length, red-streaked black curls until she was satisfied with their volume. “Graham just phoned, actually, said he was gonna be late.”  She pouted into the mirror, testing the longevity of her red lipstick, and finally looked up.  “Whoa, Em,” she said, gesturing at the cropped red leather jacket Emma had selected for the day’s ensemble.  “What’s with the battle armor?  You can’t be like this today, you have a client waiting.”  Ruby snapped the mirror shut and nodded at the inner office door with her chin.

“Like what?” Emma challenged.

“Nope,” Ruby said.  “Not going there.”

Emma glared, just for a second, and cracked a small smile.  “Sleazy divorce case?” she asked, almost hopefully.

“Ah.”  Ruby nodded, like that explained something. “You’re in that mood.  Explains the outfit.  So we’re not solving the mystery of True Love today, then?”

“No mystery,” Emma said.  “Sooner or later, the people you love let you down.  Life lesson from me to you, Ruby.  At least then, they end up here--and we need the eighty bucks an hour.”

“You make it sound so tawdry,” Ruby complained.

“These are our people, Red.”

Ruby paused, eyeing Emma up and down one more time, lingering on the red leather.  “What did he do?” she asked, lowering her voice.  “Do I need to, like, rip out his throat or something?”

And--it wasn’t like Emma hadn’t felt a flash of something when he’d kissed her in the office late the night before, it’s just that it was easier to feel nothing when what you were feeling, most of the time, just plain sucked.

Emma didn’t answer and the silence stretched out until Ruby expelled a breath.  “Okay,” Ruby said, not sounding happy about it.  “Whatever. But--trust me, Emma.  We need this client.”

“He just needs me?”  Emma asked.  “Or, I guess, just one of us?”

“Actually,” Ruby said.  “He said he wants you. He was specific,” Ruby said.  

Emma had a good reputation for someone her age and especially for someone whose resume most closely resembled one of the people she was trying to track down.  But the truth was that clients who came in with a specific personnel request generally went straight for Graham.  

“Right,” Emma said.

“But lower your shields a bit and, you know, smile--but not the kind where you show your teeth because you don’t want to scare them off.”

Emma pushed the corners or her mouth upward with her middle fingers and made sure to bare as many teeth as she possibly could.  “All the better to eat you with, my dear.”

Ruby gave her a wink and an air kiss.  “Any time, babe, you know that.”

Emma laughed, breaking into a real smile.  “I’ll leave that to Victor, I think.”

“It’s cute,” Ruby said, “that you think he’d care, except to come and watch--or maybe help,” and smacked her lips again when Emma rolled her eyes and turned toward the door marked ‘Private.’  She ran a hand over her hair to smooth it, squared her shoulders, and straightened her jacket.

“Shoulders back, chin up, tits out, Em,” Ruby muttered.  “It’s worth way more than a sleazy divorce case, I can smell it.”

Emma braced herself, opening the door and shutting it behind her.

Her visitor stood in the center of the room, facing the window and leaning on an ornate walking stick.  He turned around at the sound of the doorknob and smiled, a sickly, fake thing that flashed just a hint of a gold tooth.  “Ah,” he said. “Miss Swan.  It’s nice to see you again. I’m Mr. Gold--”

“I remember,” Emma said, “sir.” Sir because if what her landlord charged for this place was any indication, to say nothing of what his made-to-measure three-piece suit must have cost, Ruby was right:  they needed this case.

“I have a proposition for you, Miss Swan,” he said.  “I need your help.”

--

Emma sank slowly into her swivel chair, turning to face her visitor and smiling politely--the tight, thin kind that showed no teeth.  She took him in:  his charcoal grey suit with a hint of a sheen on the fabric, the blood red dress shirt underneath, the black tie streaked with gold and just a hint of purple with a matching pocket square at his breast.  

“It would appear,” he said with no preamble, his voice low and soft, “that I’ve been robbed.”  He spoke with a smoothed-over accent; Scottish, perhaps, but every few words there was a syllable with a cadence so foreign Emma couldn’t even begin to place it.

“You seem unsurprised,” Emma remarked cautiously.

“Other attempts have been made in the past,” he said, tapping his cane lightly against the heel of one of his polished leather shoes.  The walking stick, it turned out, was quite genuine, as the man had hobbled slightly when crossing the room toward the visitor’s chair at Emma’s desk.  “I am a man of means with collections representing many varied interests and there are always those who come to me for--” he paused, and Emma sensed the deliberation with which he chose his words, “--help.  Sometimes I am able to oblige them; other times, I leave them to their own devices.”

“You’re saying that you’re a target,” Emma said, “and that something has been taken from one of your collections?”  He nodded, and his hair nearly brushed the tips of his shoulders.  It was long for a man of his apparent dignity, with strands hanging around his face and nearly in his eyes.

“What can I say, Miss Swan?” he asked rhetorically.  “I’m a difficult man to love.”

His eyes had clearly been following hers as she made her mental evaluation of him, and the effect he gave was almost that of a reptile.

“Here’s the thing, Mr. Gold,” Emma said, keeping the smile intact and speaking softly.  “A missing object, stolen from your shop--it sounds like the kind of job the police should handle.  Though I understand why a man in your position might choose discretion above all else, I also know that a man of your means would typically have no cause to approach someone like me directly--which tells me that whatever has gone missing is something of such value that you can’t even take the chance that anyone knows it’s missing.”

His gold tooth glinted again as he parted his lips and nodded his head, almost as if in appreciation.  Emma took it as a confirmation--not that she needed it. Her life had taught her many things, and her skill at reading people had gotten to the point where if she was concentrated and detached, she could tell a lie better than a polygraph.

“What’s been taken from me, Miss Swan,” he said, “has been in my possession for longer than you’ve been alive.”

Emma nodded.  What he said was not a lie.

“Okay,” she said, leaning forward and bracing her elbows on her desk.  “So tell me what I’m looking for.”

“You misunderstand me, Miss Swan,” he said, tilting his head at an angle as he, too, shifted his weight forward.  “I have no need for you to retrieve my stolen property.  I merely require your assistance in apprehending the man who had the audacity to violate me in such a brazen manner.”

Emma gave Gold a long, hard look.  “Robbery is a public menace.  You’re asking me to aid in what could be construed as obstruction of justice.  And you won’t even tell me what--?”

“Let’s just say,” he said, “that it’s a precious object and leave it at that.  Further, I will give you my assurances that it poses no danger to anyone as long as I get it back as quickly and quietly as possible and that it remains my secret.  But it is imperative that I find this person sooner rather than later.  I am, you might say, on something of a schedule.”

“You have a funny definition of justice, Mr. Gold,” she said.  

“My dear Miss Swan,” he said, the tooth glinting, “who said anything about justice?”

“What did they really do?”

“They stole,” he said, and nothing else.

Emma sat back and crossed her arms.

“I would hate to think that I’ve made a mistake in coming to you, Miss Swan,” Gold said, his voice still low, the words turning silky. ”It was my understanding that you are quite...dedicated in your chosen profession and have, for the most part, a record of success in finding those whom you seek.”

Emma managed not to flinch.  He couldn’t know that much about her from the cursory background an internet search would reveal; couldn’t know that she never had found her parents, because the kind of assholes who hand-knitted their kid a blanket and then left said kid on the side of the road were also the kind of assholes who had left absolutely no trace of their identity in any system Emma had access to.   

Had they ever even held her?

She’d never let herself hold her son, because Emma knew exactly what kind of asshole sent their kid out into the world on their own:  the kind that couldn’t be a parent.  The kind that needed to give that kid their best chance.

If she’d held him--if she’d given herself at least that--maybe it would have been easier.

Hell, it certainly couldn’t have been any harder.

“Miss Swan?”

Emma drew in a deep breath and set her shoulders.  “And you have a history with this person, I take it?”

“Miss Swan,” he said, and the laugh that accompanied it was a distinctly unpleasant one, “you will find that there are very few people in our little corner of the world with whom I do not have history.  And this man, I am sorry to say, has an unfortunate history of taking what is mine.”

Emma nodded, slowly.  “Okay,” she said, with some reluctance.  “I’ll check him out.”

“I’m sure you will,” Gold said smoothly. “In return for this service, you will of course expect payment.”

“Our hourly rate is--”

Gold was uninterested.  “Of no importance,” he said dismissively.  “You may invoice me, assuming I don’t find him first.  If I do...let’s just say that bad things happen to bad people.”

“Is that a threat?” Emma asked, incredulous.

“More of an observation, or perhaps an incentive,” he said, and the sickly smile was back.  “Do we have an understanding?”

She nodded again. “Deal,” she said.

“Grand,” Gold said, licking his lips.

“What’s going on in here?” said a voice from the doorway, lilting and accented and familiar.

“Graham,” Emma said, “Mr. Gold would like us to take a case on his behalf.  Mr. Gold,” Emma turned her attention back to their new client, swallowing her reservations because she was good at her job.  She needed that comfort--that belief--because her job was all she had, no matter what Graham thought he wanted.  “This is my partner, Graham Humbert.”

As Graham stepped forward and offered a hand, there was a look on his face that Emma had never seen before.  His eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept properly--or at all--and his gaze focused on Gold as if he was the only thing in the room.

Something flickered across Gold’s face before he offered Graham his hand to shake.   “Indeed,” he said. “Miss Swan and I have just struck a bargain.”

Emma was sure she imagined the flash of fear that briefly overtook Graham’s features.

--

There were flowers on the table when Emma got home--she grabbed them and dumped them straight into the trash.

“Oh!”  Her roommate, Mary Margaret, walked in.

It all came down to the number seven, which was the number of addresses she’d had in the past ten years, assuming that eleven months in the Arizona Correctional Facility for Women counted as an address.  Graham had hired her, and she’d stayed, in spite of the lack of dental or any other benefits.  Mary Margaret Blanchard had not been looking for a roommate, but they’d met each other and there was the offer of the spare room that wasn’t even properly a room, more like a lofted open space just big enough for a double bed and a small wardrobe, before either of them was quite sure what had happened.  Something had clicked, and Emma had unpacked the three cardboard boxes that contained all of her possessions and tucked the one small cigar box that held her life, such as it was, away in a corner of the office.  

She had a roommate and a job and friends and she hated Graham for putting all of that at risk for something that would never work.  Because if Emma were the type who allowed herself to believe in such things, she’d have said that finding Mary Magaret--and Ruby, and Graham and her job and her life here--had been like coming home; as if she had always been meant to be there.

“Can you believe this shit?”  Emma gestured at the flowers.  “Graham think this is gonna work on me?”

“Yeah, no, those are mine,” Mary Margaret said, then corrected herself:  “Were mine.”

“From the married guy?  Seriously?”

“I know,” Mary Margaret said, then:  “Wait.  How did you know?”

“You’re an elementary school teacher,” Emma said flatly.  “I’m a private investigator.”

Mary Margaret sighed.  “It’s a disaster,” she said.

“It can’t be that bad if there are flowers,” Emma said, eyebrows raised.

“No, that was--no,” Mary Margaret said.  “I just can’t seem to--I feel like a different person when I’m around him.  It’s like I can’t help myself, like I have this need to be with him.”

“Trust me,” Emma said.  “Married guys are never worth it, no matter how good the ‘flowers’ are.” Emma made exaggerated air quotes with her fingers.  “If you need an itch scratched, stick to one-nighters with no attachments, like I do.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re--”

“Because I’m what?” Emma’s eyes flashed green in challenge.  Unfeeling bitch, he’d called her, then walked in on her meeting looking like shit, but otherwise as if nothing had happened between them.  

That fit with what she knew of him; Graham was a kind, good-natured guy, and most days Emma felt lucky to have him in her life.  It’s easy, between them.

“Never mind,” Mary Margaret said.

“No,” Emma said.  “Tell me.  What do I do?”

“You’re just,” Mary Margaret said, gesturing expansively, “protecting yourself.  With that wall you put up.”

“Just because I don’t get emotional over men--”

“You don’t?”  Mary Margaret was not the type of person who snorted derisively, which Emma was grateful for more at that moment than she might ever have been; especially since Mary Margaret had no real notion of exactly how much Emma was, in fact, protecting herself from.

Because she did not get emotional over men.

“All I’m saying,” Mary Margaret said, “is that the floral abuse tells a different story.”

“Come on,” Emma said.

“I mean it, Emma,” Mary Margaret said.  “That wall of yours might keep out pain, but it will also keep out love.”  Mary Margaret was all about “mawwaige” and “Twoo Wuv” and refused to give up hope that Emma would find both of those things. 

God, was there something in the water today?  This felt like the second time, at least, she’d been forced to endure some version of this conversation.  One more minute and she was likely to start screaming about patriarchy and freedom and submitting herself to an institution that fails as often as it succeeds, and for what?  A bullshit ideal of fairy tales and happy endings?

Certainly Mary Margaret’s sordid affair was a horrible ‘Exhibit A’ in the case for True Love.  

“He kissed me,” Emma confessed, watching the progression of emotions cross her friend’s face:  happiness, confusion, disappointment, resignation.

“And?”

“It wasn’t a bad kiss,” Emma admitted, watching Mary Margaret’s eyebrows shoot up. “It was nice, I guess.  Easy.”

“And?” Mary Margaret said again.

“And,” Emma emphasized it, “I’m neither of those things?” She threw her hands in the air.  “It’s not what I want, Mary Margaret.”

“Are you sure?”

There was a knock at the door before she could respond, and Emma went to answer it.  Sheriff Nolan’s hand was poised to knock again as she opened the door, and Emma spared a glance at her roommate, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the married guy her friend had been not-so-secretly seeing.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Emma said knowingly, and was surprised at David’s hand on her shoulder.

“I’m here for you, actually,” he said.

--

Heartless bastard.

Emma would have laughed, except she was crying and trying not to throw up at the same time.

--

@kmomof4 @stahlop @katie-dub @imlaxdris71 @snowbellewells @mariakov81 @shardminds​ @carpedzem​ @anne-and-gilbert​ @teamhook @winterbaby89​

[gillianaunofficial]

Stella and Scully making love when one of them brings up the marriage concept

This came out really well tbh. The first part is really just sex tbh. Like not even plain sex... like rough sex.

AO3

Rating: E for Extremely gay

Ship: Stella x Scully

Rhythm

Skin. Sweat. Friction. Scully underneath Stella. The slick feeling of Stella’s hands touching her soaked folds as she was fucked. It was fast. Passionate. A lot had happened that day. Stella’s outlet. Her blonde waves bounced against her bare chest, the very longest strands catching on her erect nipples. It was almost primitive. Scully could feel as her cunt began to contract. On the edge of the hurried orgasm Stella was inducing. Stella lowered herself, resting slightly on Scully’s left thigh, her mouth leaving smeared lipstick marks on her pulse point and jaw line. Scully’s hands found Stella’s ass as she neared her peak. Everything seemed urgent. The same way teenagers having sex in the back of their parents’ car nearing curfew did it. Scully came, arching her neck, pushing back into the pillow that cushioned her head. She squirted, coating Stella’s hand and the three fingers that Stella had had in her. Scully looked up at Stella, her eyes half closed. Stella sucked Scully’s come off each of her fingers, savouring the salty taste. She kissed Scully, rough, her teeth catching on her bottom lip. Scully moaned as she tasted her own come on Stella’s lips.

“Fuck me.” Stella said, it was strange, an order. She sat up, still straddling Scully. Scully looked at her, raised an eyebrow, causing a small crinkle to appear above it. Stella looked younger, more desperate. Maybe it was the lighting.

“Fuck me.” Stella said again, her jaw clenching. She gestured to the bedside table. Bottom drawer. Where the strap-on stayed. Stella had never asked her to fuck her with the strap-on before. Stella was always the one to use it on her. Stella released Scully from under her, so she could retrieve the toy. Stella breathed heavily, her mouth open in anticipation as Scully lubed the strap-on, her slender hands running the length of the fat, purple cock. She attached it to herself, adjusting the harness. She kneeled on the bed, Stella looked at her.

“What do you want me to do?” Scully asked, looking down at herself.

“Fuck me, Dana. Fuck me like a man.” Stella practically growled, placing a hand inbetween her legs, she ran her middle finger from her mons to her perineum. Her skin shone wet. She kept eye contact with Scully, an intensity Scully had never witnessed before. The deep, mysterious blue of the deep sea. Scully aligned herself with Stella’s glistening entrance, the sensation of wearing the strap-on somehow disconnected, impersonal. Maybe that’s what Stella wanted. Scully inched closer, before thrusting into Stella. Stella’s mouth opened in satisfaction, her chest heaving as Scully figured out how to fuck her. She thrust again, faster, her chest arching forward as she did, Stella looking hungrily at her tits. Her hips smacked against Stella as she found a rhythm. With each deep thrust Stella’s chest rose, her breaths airy and her skin pulled taut, revealing the symmetrical sets of ribs. Some of Stella’s wildness had seeped into Scully’s mind and she found herself pinning Stella’s hands above her head, which came with an amused look from Stella.

“Turn me over.” Stella gasped, the whites of her eyes showing as she welcomed the feeling of Scully inside her.

“What?” Scully replied, slowing for a moment, half in Stella.

“From behind.” Stella said, licking her lips. “Doggy Style.” Scully’s heart beat harder in her chest before she pulled fully out of Stella. Stella arranged herself in front of Scully, ass tilted up, everything exposed. Scully leaned over her and left a kiss between her shoulder blades, on the bump of a vertebrae. She clamped her hands around Stella’s hips, her thumbs brushing the doughy skin of her ass. She looked at Stella. Or more appropriately, Stella’s ass and pussy. She found her opening quickly and thrusted in, Stella moaning heavily and bowing her head as she felt her re-enter. She began to thrust again, the same rhythm as before.

“Harder.” Stella said, barely a hint of arousal in her voice, despite the obvious signs. Scully sped up, with each thrust her lower stomach hit against the curve of Stella’s ass. Stella flinched at the comfortable pain as Scully entered her.

“Harder.” She said, this time a moan. Scully was fully in the stride of things, the wet sound of Stella’s soaked pussy going up and down her strap-on. Stella felt herself begin to let go, aching to come. She moaned and Scully’s fingernails dug into her hip. Fuck. She could feel it. She screamed. Words. Something. Scully froze and pulled out. Stella collapsing obliviously on the bed, her chest rising and falling, a satisfied smile on her face. Scully could fuck her better than any man.

“Stella?” Scully said, sitting up and removing the harness from herself, the strap-on soaked in a mix of lube and Stella’s come.

“Mhm?” Stella said, her hand tangling in the misshapen sheets.

“Do you know what you just said?” Scully placed a hand on Stella’s thigh, feeling the warm, sweaty skin of her lover.

“What did I say?” Stella said, looking lazily at Scully, a new wave of exhaustion running over her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex that vigorous.

“You asked me to marry you.” At this Stella sat up, furrowing her brow. She looked something of a beautiful mess, her hair tangled and her face flushed pink.

“I what?” She replied, running a hand through her hair.

“You asked me to marry you, Stella.” Scully said again, finding Stella’s confused gaze.

“Oh.” Stella said, reaching for the duvet to pull around herself, shielding her new found vulnerability.

“Did you mean it?” Scully asked, the emotion in her voice unsure, not sadness but not happiness either. Something between the two of them. A grey, confused emotion.

“I don’t know.” Stella pulled the duvet closer to her chest, now the only part of her exposed was her shoulders, while Scully sat on the edge of the bed, completely naked, aside from her necklace. Stella watched her, the exposed figure. She looked at the lines that were created as Scully’s back sloped, causing her skin and fat to gather in a small roll around her stomach. Stella almost reached for her, the atmosphere so different to what it had been a minute ago. Something about the way the light reflected off the walls made Scully’s skin look tinged blue.

“Did you want me to mean it?” Stella said, her words delicate, something as new as the morning dew on the grass outside. Scully turned to look at her, she seemed forlorn, not quite there as though she had remembered something from many years ago. A memory, a sad, conflicted memory, that Stella was sure she’d never get to hear the story of.

“I’m not sure.” Scully replied, her eyes averting from Stella again to examine the short ovals of her nails. Stella could feel that was a lie, the truth was about as clear as a piece of long forgotten sea glass found on a rainy day.

“Dana.” She said, a thought having set itself firmly in her mind. A foreign thought. One that before this time with Scully she’d never have let appear. “Dana Katherine Scully, will you marry me?” She said, to Scully’s naked, shaking back. She turned to Stella, her face contorted as tears ran down. She lay on top of Stella her head where her stomach would be under the covers. She felt the living, breathing, life of this woman. This amazing, compelling, complicated woman. The woman she loved.

“I will.” She said, her head buried in the blue sheets. “I will. I will. I will.” She cried and Stella wrapped her arms around her, tracing each bone in her back.

“I love you, so much. More than I could ever have loved anyone else.” Her hand stroked Scully’s hair, a new rhythm, a comforting, familiar rhythm. A rhythm that bonded their hearts and their souls. Unshakeable.

[inflagranteinnuendo]

Hi, I'm slowly dying over my senior thesis paper (that's due in like 2 days and I'm ready to scream) and I started thinking: how would each of the boys help (or "help" because they're wonderful sexy, smug distractions) with a S/O who was hella stressed over a school or work assignment?

THREESOME THREESOME THREESOME!!!

hi as a christine on a friday i feel this in my soul so much that it bled all over into my dreams last night. tbh i blame @adacarisi for all her talks of pillars (of criminal justice) and good lays (chips) anyways so here we go

It was 7pm on a friday, and you were being bent over and fucked in every possible way on the dining table,

by a massive, massive column of accumulated homework, but you were too busy highlighting another passage of your textbook to voice a complain.

It was your fault for not having done your readings all week; you had to read, and so you read, on a friday fucking night, every word a stab in the eye and a stab at the storage bin of your patience. 

Across the dining table, Rafael was quietly humming as he wrote notes on the margin of his notes to summarize his summaries, and Sonny was quiet and still at his side, his nose in a massive tome. 

“… via connections of the tractus solitarius to the nucleus ambiguus and … to the caudal ventrolateral medulla… and from –to the rostral ventrolateral medulla… what the actual hell.”

Both of their heads shot up at your hysterical pronouncement, and you almost laughed at the twin frowns that marred their faces. But your laugh took a sharp left at the back of your throat and turned into a dry, strangled sob.

Mortified by the sound you had just made in frustration, you dropped your highlighter like a hot potato and pressed the heels of your hands into your eyeballs, muttering a small apology for disturbing their work. Alarmed, Rafael shot up and rounded the table, pen still between his fingers. Half-rising from his seat hesitatingly, Sonny watched him approach you with sharp eyes.

“You ok?” Rafael asked, gently sweeping back the curtain of your hair so to take in the state of you before he leaned over with hands on your shoulders. “You’ve been at it since before I came back. You can probably use a break.”

Your shoulders heaved under the weight of his hands. “Fuck me,” you whined, throwing your head back toward the ceiling.

A pause,

Rafael’s hands tightened on your shoulders, bunching up the back of your thin dress. 

Oh, fuck.

Realizing what you had just said, the way you had just said it, and where you were, you froze. 

Oh, fuck.

Rafael Barba had made it clear to you early on in your relationship that he did not tolerate swearing inside su casa, for whatever reason –you and Sonny never questioned him about it and abided by his cardinal rule strictly, unwilling to test his hot cuban temper, even on lazy weekends. 

Fuck. Fuck.

Sonny’s eyes met yours, and you silently begged him to say something to break the silence you instigated with your faux-pas, but instead, his eyes were full of laughter, with a pinch of you brought this upon yourself and five whole ounces of i ain’t helping you out of this one. Thank you, Sonny, for your support.

“What did you just say?” Rafael breathed lowly, calmly, his face so close to yours that you felt the soft brush of his lips against your temple, and the hot brush of his exhale against your cheekbone. 

You shivered, closing your eyes in a mix of dread, in anticipation of his chastisement for the sin you’ve just committed under his roof– and embarrassment, for the sudden flash of heat that had coursed through you at the sound of his voice. 

And both men had seen your little flush of arousal. 

You caught them exchange a charged glance, and then within a fraction of a second, the atmosphere of the room shifted. 

“I asked you a question.” Rafael held your hair back with one hand and held the back of your neck with the other, gently tilting your head up toward him. You met his green eyes with no small amount of trepidation.

In your peripheral vision, Sonny slowly stood, undoing his dress shirt’s cuffs as he started rounding the table, his eyes intently on you.

So was this how it was going to be? Two on one, because you had let it slip just the once? “I said,” you drawl, pushing your textbook away from you carelessly and leaning back against your chair, “Fuck me.”

Sonny leaned a hip against the edge of the table, right by your shoulder, and leaned into your headspace to look down at you critically. “No apologies? Don’t think that Rafael here doesn’t appreciate those dirty words on your pretty lips, doll. But we both know he made it crystal clear that those words don’t leave the bedroom.”

You swung your eyes back toward Rafael defiantly. “You want an apology?”

He, too, leaned in, crowding you. Was this what perpetrators felt in the interrogation room as they sat at the table, while a seasoned ADA and a Manhattan detective played bad lawyer & bad cop in a game of barely lawful intimidation? 

It was thrilling.

But maybe you only felt so because you have had both of these men inside you, and a pussy full of the cum Sonny had fucked into you earlier, before Rafael came back home.

As you docilely sat there, at the dinner table Rafael owned, on the chair Rafael owned, you involuntarily clenched down on Sonny’s leftovers, eagerly waiting on Rafael’s answer.

“I want a retraction and a statement of remorse.” Ah, Rafael. Forever the lawyer.

“Or else what?” You snickered. “You’re gonna prosecute me to the full extend of the law?”

At your words, his pupils dilated. 

You watched as Rafael looked to Sonny for a beat. “Do it,” he said lowly, undoing his tie with deft fingers before handing it to his partner. 

Before you could ask what was going on, Sonny tugged you out of your seat by the elbow. “Stand up, please.” 

Narrowing your eyes at both of them, you slowly complied, heart accelerating, breath shortening, disbelief rising. Then, exhilaration gained ground when you felt him finger the zip of your dress.

You knew what was coming next. Explicitly stated affirmative consent was a mandatory prelude to your little games: appropriate, given the sort of crimes that two-third of this threesome saw on a daily basis.

“Do you consent?” Sonny asked. 

“Yes, I do.” You did, and you wanted the both of them, at once, together. As soon as the words left your mouth, your dress pooled at your feet, and there you stood, clad only in a tiny thong, previously soiled by Sonny.

With savage pleasure, you heard Rafael make a short, aborted sound in the back of his throat at the sight of your tits, and the contrasting smears of white against the black lace of your underwear. Coyly, you glanced up: it was fitting that you were standing by the dining table, for Rafael looked famished. 

Suddenly, your self-satisfaction was cut short by a thick strap of silk around your wrists– Rafael’s tie of the day, a crimson number, warmed by the time it had spent around his throat, and by Sonny’s fingers. You had reeled Rafael in with this exact same tie for a lingering kiss this morning, before tying it in a Grantchester knot.

“I believe I have the right to an attorney,” you announced insolently as Sonny dragged you down the hallway toward the master bedroom.

“You also have the right to remain silent,” Rafael offered, smiling at the glare you threw him in response. Did he just tell you to shut up?

“Make me,” you sneered, wholly invested in your recalcitrant role. 

“Oh, believe me,” Sonny promised, hungry once again. “We will.”

Without further ado, he shoved you face down on Rafael’s bed. Down you went, willingly, the loose knot around your wrists exaggerating the arch of your back. Sonny released his grip on you to round the bed, unzipping his trousers as he went. Unable to help yourself, you peered up at his cock, now level with your head and dripping, then at his face, with his hooded eyes and bitten lip.

“Waiting on your gag order, detective?” You taunted, eyeing the first drop of clear precum bead and drool.

“You think I need a court order to shut you up?” Sonny grunted, smearing the tip of his cock over your lips to paint them glossy before pushing in, one hand steadying the base of his cock, and one hand on the back of your neck, helping you take him. The smell and the taste of him was heady, with a hint of yourself from your earlier round, and you moan around the head of him, relaxing your jaw to beg for more of him. And in he went, willingly, letting go of his cock to cradle the front of your throat, where he could feel the bulge of himself distending your flesh. He squeezed a little harder, and pushed in a little further, groaning at the sight of your lips stretched around the base of his cock, and the feel of his balls hitting your chin.

You closed your eyes. Sonny pulled back, then began fucking your face at fast and hard, drawing small whimpers out of you. You relished the total control that he had over you, surrendering all of your vital functions to him –your breathing, your thoughts, your voice– in the most momentous show of trust you could gift him. And by the set of his face, Sonny couldn’t get enough of you.

“Does she feel as good as it looks?” You heard Rafael’s voice ask somewhere behind you, slightly to your right. Even with your eyes closed, you could see him: still dressed, but trousers half undone, cock out, a tight fist around it –and the slick sounds of his cock as it slid through his grip confirmed your suspicions.

“Better than,” Sonny replied, voice breaking on the last syllable. 

The mattress dipped beside you as Rafael kneeled on it. He roughly parted your thighs with a trouser-clad knee and you shivered. In your mind’s eye, you saw how debauched a picture you must make: naked, save for a thong full of cum, surrounded by two fully dressed men, on the receiving end of a thorough face fuck.

Rafael looped his cock under the lacy T at the back of your soaked thong, and fucked himself against your ass, denying you the pleasure of friction. But you couldn’t stop yet another flare of wet heat from flooding down your thighs. You whined in frustration, clenching your fists, and Rafael chuckled darkly, dropping down on one hand to drape himself over you, his weight pressing you further into the mattress. You grunt around a mouthful of Sonny, your breath knocked out by the exquisite drag of his dress shirt against your naked back. Rafael sneaked his free hand around to squeeze your tits, blowing a breath against the back of your shoulder. 

That was when you realized that Rafael was watching Sonny’s cock defile your mouth up close. 

Your eyes shot open, a hot flush of embarrassment rising to your cheeks, spreading downwards.

“Beautiful,” Rafael growled, and to your utmost arousal, let go of your tits to tangle his fingers with Sonny’s at the front of your throat. 

Then, he tugged your thong aside and fucked the outside of your slick, cum-soaked slit, parting your sticky lips and striking your clit with each pass. He had you both panting –and you, breathing small moans around Sonny. It was absolutely filthy, that he was using Sonny’s spend to do what he was doing, even more so that he unselfconsciously enjoyed it without a care for the state of his thousand dollar trousers. 

Finally, finally, Rafael fucked into you, his forward glide unimpeded, and you reflexively clenched around him, welcoming him home. He groaned and bit your shoulder, his fingers tightening on your throat. And then, as he backed up and thrust back in, propelling you onto Sonny’s cock, it occurred to you that Rafael had a hand on your throat to feel just how well Sonny was fucking your throat, as he himself was, inside you. 

Does she feel as good as it looks? He had asked earlier.

Now, he had his answer.

Together, the three of you rocked, pushed, and pulled –Rafael against your back, a perverse witness to Sonny in your face, and Sonny looking down at Rafael’s ass as it clenched and relaxed in synch with each drive of his cock into you.

You came violently by Rafael’s 9th thrust, shuddering, almost gagging around Sonny as you sobbed, legs flailing, pulling against your restraints. 

As you made swallowing motions to clear your airways, Sonny jerked, pulling back to slot the head of his cock against the inside of your cheek, then came with his head thrown back and a flush down his chest, sounding wrecked by the volume of his jagged moans.

Rafael’s hand massaged your neck, encouraging you to swallow whatever Sonny generously gave to you, so you did, mouthful by mouthful, sip by sip, lapping at the length of him until he was clean and you were building up again on Rafael’s cock. 

“Good girl.”

Sonny laid down beside your head and kissed you deep, and wet, and hard, tongue tangling with yours languidly, till a hard thrust by Rafael’s unrelenting hips against your ass broke the kiss. You cried out, but Rafael made good on Sonny’s promise to keep you quiet –his hand drifted up from your neck to your mouth, effectively muffling your whines. He began pounding away at you, and you panted against his hot palm, unable to draw enough breath to sustain you.

“You did so well,” Sonny praised, brushing your hair out of your face. “Come for us one more time, baby, just one more time. Come on, let go.”

You were nothing if not obedient when you were on the brink of your climax, so you did as he said, screaming into Rafael’s hand. You vaguely registered your toes curling against some very expensive wool trousers. 

Rafael grounded his hips into you, stilling momentarily to both enjoy your flutters and to flood your pussy full again. You blacked out completely as you came, again and again, triggered by the sheer heat of Rafael’s climax. 

Oh, fuck me, you thought, as you lost your grasp on consciousness, what a way to take a study break.

(img credit x)

[lovelydob]

Homerun

So, this is my first CONFIDENT smut guys so take it easy on me. Also I didn’t look over it too much, I was really excited to post it for you! Let me know what you think. @dylan-trash-tbh @ninja-stiles

NSFW 18+

Words: 2,190

Dylan x Reader

I’m confused as to why I am here. My friend has been seeing Tyler Posey for a few weeks now. When she told me the news, it was a shock but I got over it. She just had to “stop by” on her way to drop me off. I didn’t fight it at first, especially thinking how cool it would be to meet Tyler personally. Well, I met Tyler almost exactly two hours ago. I was currently sat on a sofa in the living room while the Mets were playing on the TV in front of me. A couple cushions away from me was Tyler’s roommate, who also happened to be Dylan O’Brien. Nervous was an understatement for how I was feeling now.

“Are you thirsty or anything?” He asked as he lazily looked over me, rubbing his fingers over the condensation on his beer bottle. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until he brought it up.

“If it’s not too much to ask, I wouldn’t mind having a beer.”

He hopped off the couch and made his way to the kitchen, a second later returning with two more beers in his hands.

“Not a problem, sweetie.” He said as he gave me a wink and sat closer to me than he was before.

I shifted in my seat a little as my nerves got the best of me. I silently opened the bottle and started sipping the cool drink, trying to douse the heat I could feel rushing to my cheeks.

After a few minutes of watching the game, another commercial popped up on the television and he was the first to speak.

“I’m Dylan, what’s your name?” He asked.

“I’m Y/N, and I know who you are Dylan. Nice to meet you.” I said, now more comfortable in the situation thanks to the alcohol.

“So, Y/N, you like baseball?” His eyes now on me, a smirk on his face, “More importantly, are you a Mets fan?”

My eyes light up when I look at him. “Yeah. I watch the games when I can.” I say with a smile on my face.

“Atta girl.” He said as he put his hand on my thigh.

He didn’t move it when the game came back on the screen. We made small talk here and there, both of us trying to get to know one another. I was trying not to think about how Dylan O’Brien was making a move on me. I looked down to his hand and ran my own hand over his just to make sure this was really happening. When I did, he grabbed it and turned his body toward mine and moved even closer to me.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispered leaning in, glancing to my lips after a few seconds.

I picked up on his signals and moved closer to him, our lips only a small space apart.

“Y/N, you ready to head out?”

Dylan and I instantly separate, my friend and Tyler coming in just in time to ruin the mood.

“Yup.” I sputtered out, a little too nonchalantly.

I stood to my feet and made my way past Dylan when I felt a hand around my wrist. I turned and was met by his arm extended to me with his phone in his hand. I picked up his hint and took the phone into my hands and quickly typed in my number. I handed it back to him and he mouthed a ‘thank you’ and gave me another wink. I was called out the door now, my friend asking if I was on my way out. I made my way out the door and shut it behind me. I took a deep breath and thought of the things that just happened to me waiting to be processed in my head.

 It’s been a few days since the encounter with Dylan and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t waiting to hear from him since. Just as I hopped out of the shower I heard my phone rattling on my nightstand. I picked it up and answered the unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Dylan. What are you up to later today?”

My heart started racing at the sound of his voice. I thought about any obligations I had and came up empty.

“Um, nothing today. What about you?”

I could tell he was smiling now from the tone of his voice.

“Well, I was hoping I could take a pretty girl out today if she agrees to me picking her up later…” he stated casually.

My heart skipped a beat, hoping he was talking about me but doubts started clouding my mind.

“Okay.”

“Okay. Text me your address and meet you around 5.” He stated before he hung up.

Holy shit.

I was sitting next to Dylan in his car as he drove on down the highway.

I finally piped up. “So, where are we going Dylan?”

“It’s a surprise. But, if you look in the bag in the back there’s a hint.” He stated.

I gave him a puzzled look as I turned myself around and started shifting through the bag in the back seat. I pulled a blue shirt out of the bag and opened it up to reveal a bold orange Mets logo.

“Dylan!” I squealed as I instantly ripped my top off and glanced at a ruddy-cheeked Dylan before replacing it with the new jersey. “This is amazing! Thank you!”

I leaned over and gave him an innocent kiss on the cheek and he smiled in return.

We drove a few more miles before I spotted a sign that read “Citi Field” and I beamed in excitement.

During the game we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. On more than one occasion Dylan’s hand would rest on my thigh mindlessly rubbing circles on my skin, driving me crazy. Or he would put his arm around my shoulders gently curling me into him, which was unbelievably comfortable. Once it was over we made our way through the crowd, thankful Dylan didn’t get noticed. Once we made it to the car, we sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before I decided to speak.

“That was awesome. Thank you, Dyl. I mean it, you didn’t have to do any of this. But I appreciate it and I’ll never forget it.” I softly spoke.

He shifted in his seat and leaned towards me and ran his hand up through my hair. My adrenaline kicking in from his touch and gaze, sending my heart into a thumping frenzy so loud I was sure he could hear it.

“It’s okay, I wanted to.” He whispered as he pulled me closer to him, licking his lips as the space between us slowly starting to disappear.

My eyes flutter shut as his lip meet mine delicately, our mouths slowly moving in synch. I feel his grip tighten in my hair as his tongue parts my lips and swirls around my own. I moan into the kiss, the taste of him exhilarating and pushing me further as my lips leave his and find their way to his neck, earning a groan from him as he starts the car.

I continue my assault on his neck until my eyes dart to the road and I realize I’ve been here and we only have a few minutes until we’re at his house. I trail my fingers down his chest and to the prominent bulge in his pants, softly rubbing my hand over his hard length as his breath hitches in his throat.

We pull into the drive and he parks the car and pulls the keys out of the ignition as fast as he possibly could. He quickly ran around to my door to open it and pull me out and up to the door of the house. He held my wrist as he unlocked the door and swiftly pulled me in, slamming the door behind me. He grabbed my other wrist and pinned them both up above my head, nuzzling his face in the crook of my neck. He panted heavily as he nipped the lobe of my ear.

“Baby, I don’t think you know what you are doing to me…” he whispers, pushing his body against mine. I squeak in response as he pushes his leg in between mine, rubbing against my most sensitive parts.

He continues his attack on my neck as I grind on his leg between mine, feeling the arousal pooling in my panties with every passing moment. He removes his leg and pulls me to follow him until we make it to a room. He closes the door, and just as quick he pushes me until I fall back onto his bed. He hovers over me and continues kissing down my neck and to my chest, a groan comes from him before lifting the jersey off my body and tossing it on the floor. He kisses and licks the top of my breasts, making me hum in approval as he reaches behind me and unclasps the undergarment and pulling it from my chest in one swift movement.

I reach to the hem of his shirt, pushing it up and off his body, dropping it on the floor next to the bed. His eyes move down to my chest, his eyes half lidded as he takes in the sight before him. He presses his forehead against mine as he returns to his spot over me.

He breathes ruggedly in my ear, cupping my breast in his hand, “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

He makes his way down my neck again to my bare chest, taking my tit into his mouth sucking harshly.

“Oh fuck.” I moan as I run my hands through his hair, slightly pulling at the roots. I push myself up to him and trail my fingers down to his jeans, popping the button and pulling both them and his boxers down to his feet. He kicks them off, and makes his way to my clothed core with his hands, not missing a beat.

“These need to come off for what I’m about to do to you, baby.” He winks before pulling my shorts and panties off in one swift movement. I feel myself throbbing from no contact and I start to whimper.

He grabs my legs and pulls me toward him, propping my feet up on the edge and spreads my knees apart. He crouches in front of me and runs his fingers through my folds, earning a moan from my lips.

“Fuck, your pussy is so wet. Did I do this to you, sweetie? Is it all for me?” He asks.

Before I can answer, he swipes his tongue up my entrance and to my sensitive nub, taking it in his mouth while sucking and flicking. I moan again in response as I wrap my legs around his head, pushing up into his mouth with my hips. Without warning, he shoves two fingers into my core, scissoring and stretching my walls before rubbing up with the pads of his fingers.

“Oh my God, fuck don’t stop.” I cry out, shaking from the impending orgasms quickly making its way to me.

When he feels me clenching, he pulls his fingers out and grabs a hold of his member with the same hand, running my juices a long his dick before pushing himself into me.

We both moan in unison from the contact. He pushes himself as far as he can go before pulling back out, only to slam back into me again.

“God, baby. You’re pussy is tight around my dick.” He whispers into my ears, making the blood rush to my head. I feel myself get warm and flush, a sure sign I am getting close.

He grabs my legs and pushes them up onto his shoulders, forcing his member to go even deeper inside me. He repetitively hits a spot inside me that makes me moan out in pleasure. I feel him twitch inside of me, telling me he is close to as he moves his hand to my nub and starts rubbing it in a pattern.

“Oh, shit. Fuck, Dylan I’m going to come.” I heavily pant.

“It’s okay, baby. I want you to come. Do it for me baby. Now.”

With that, I let go. I lose my vision and hear a ringing in my head as I’m washed over with pleasure. My toes curling and hips meeting Dylan’s as he loses his rhythm and spills himself inside of me, our names slipping off each other’s tongues over and over as we come down from our high.

We lie there for a while, just breathing and holding each other before we hear a knock on the door.

“Hey, since you guys are done fucking now can I order pizza? I was going to earlier but I didn’t want to be rude, Dylan. You know, kind of like a heads up, man.” He chuckled.

“Fuck.” Dylan groaned looking over at me as I try to contain my blush. “You want some pizza?”

[thank-your-lucky-stars]

I wasn’t going to write anything because my head is all shit but you know me, i need to get it all out or i’ll make myself even more crazy. this post is going to be ranty as fuck but it’s not me slamming ED or robron or anything like that, this is just me venting, mainly about myself because i hate how much things get to me.

i don’t think anybody is doing cartwheels about this upcoming incident but at the same time that’s not what’s bothering me. of course i wish this wasn’t something that’s going to happen, but i’m also not going to judge it too much before we’ve even fucking seen it. if it’s written well it could be something that is utterly heartbreaking, like what happened with laurel and marlon last night. life isn’t black and white and i don’t think for a second that laurel trying to kiss marlon, an ex, was her cheating on ashley. it was a moment of madness and weakness but in my heart and eyes and mind that doesn’t invalidate her marriage or her love to ashley and it certainly didn’t make her a “cheat”.

i wonder if the same people who are fucking dragging the shit out of robert already (without knowing the facts or seeing what actually happens) think so badly of laurel????? maybe they do, or maybe it’s one rule for robert and another for everyone else.

and that’s what’s bothering me. and this is what bothers me about myself. it has always been a huge fucking problem of mine, caring too much, caring too much about what people think. not even what people think about me, but what people think about the stuff that i care about and the stuff that is important to me.

and it really brings me down. and yeah, like i said a couple of paragraphs up, i’m not happy that this is happening. but what is upsetting me the most is the reaction. as soon as i read that spoiler, without seeing anything else, my heart sunk just knowing what the reaction would be. knowing that people would jump the gun, people would assume the worst, people would make out that robert is the devil and that ED were “tricking us” with the wedding and sort of lulling us into a false sense of security just to fuck us up a few weeks later. i saw some dumb anon say that this was why ED didn’t have robron get legally married, and i found that so fucking offensive, because they ARE married, their vows meant everything to them and everything to us so like fuck you for making out it means nothing just because it wasn’t legal and that ED did that on purpose just to fuck with us and invalidate it a few weeks later. because no.

and yeah, okay, i am irritated that ED are doing this. it seems like after every great moment, there is a 2-3 week period and then something bad happens. we had it after the engagement and then that horrible incident in november that fucked us all up until it was neatly resolved a couple of weeks later.

and going back to that incident in november; that honestly fucked me up so bad that i felt sick for about 3 days afterwards until i realised there must be more to it than met the eye. and i was right, so many of us were right, and 2 weeks later our queen maxine gave us an amazing episode that laid all our fears to rest. 

but i know for some people, they had a fucking field day with it all. they just loved that they could call robert a cheat. even though it wasn’t that black and white; what he did he did for a specific reason, he did in order to help his brother. i would have done the same thing, and i think most people would??? but even though that was all made EXPLICITLY CLEAR, some people couldn’t see that. because so many people love to see the worst in robert sugden.

and here we are again. very different circumstances, of which we don’t know the full extent of yet, but even before this episode airs people are running around screaming that robert is a piece of shit, that robert is a cheat, calling this shit an “affair” when we don’t even know if they actually even kiss, let alone anything else???? it just says he makes a pass at her, but there’s nothing at this point to suggest that she reciprocates (and tbh i don’t think she will???)

and it’s also been hinted that aaron might even break up with robert before this happens?? which no, okay, that doesn’t suddenly make it alright, but can you imagine going to hell and back with the person you love, you finally marry them, then they get dragged away from you and while you’re trying to hold your own life together as well as hold other people’s lives together, and then you find out your spouse has turned to drugs and is alienating you, possibly being really awful to you, possibly even breaking up with you, are you seriously saying that wouldn’t fuck you up?????? that you wouldn’t get off-your-tits drunk and maybe do something a bit stupid, that you don’t really want, that your heart isn’t in???? like laurel did with marlon (even though she wasn’t drunk!). the whole “cheating is cheating” thing is bollocks. not everything is that clear cut and if you think life is that way then you’re going to have some shocks.

like fuck that shit. i’m fucking tired of it. i wish we didn’t know anything about it, that it was just a shock that happened within the episode and then people could see the situation for what it actually is instead of jumping to conclusions without knowing wtf is actually going to go down.

and i’m so so tired of the negativity. and i get it, i really do. i get why people want to make little bitchy and petty posts about ED and all that stuff. but it doesn’t help, and it doesn’t make someone like me feel any better. and i’m not saying people shouldn’t express their negative views - it’s what i’m doing right now, ffs. but this is going back to my main point of this; me. this is me. this is what affects me. this is what seriously really stresses me the fuck out. and that’s my bad, that’s my issue. always has been and always will be. i don’t know how to fix it and i don’t know how to change. i’m pretty sure i’ll never change.

and i know it’s wrong for me to feel this deeply. maybe not wrong, maybe wrong isn’t the right word. but its....not healthy. i realised this, back in november after that shite went down, i realised then that i am in way way too deep, that i have somehow allowed myself to be truly consumed by a fictional couple on an unhealthy level. i realise this, i am well aware of it. i know it’s not “normal”. i know loads of us are obsessed, devoted, passionate, fanatical....but when it starts fucking with my actual head, sometimes even my actual body, that’s when i realise “fuck. this isn’t right. this isn’t good.”

i mean, when the good stuff happens its amazing. it’s like a fucking drug and it gives me such a high. but with that high comes a low, and the lows are....low. because i’m also not just affected by what’s happening on screen, i’m affected by what’s happening off it; the spoilers, the teasers, the fandom. and i bloody love this fandom so fucking much. it’s the kindest and smartest fandom i have ever been in in my life and i’m happy to be a part of it.

and so many of you are amazing and positive and rational and honestly, so many of you have helped ease my naturally negative mind on so many occassions.

but then there’s the flip side, and i see all these asks people get, from nameless, faceless people hiding away in the fandom somewhere, spewing bile about this character and show that i have loved since i was about 14.

and that’s another thing; i fucking love robert sugden and i always have. and i have always defended him. okay, not always online to a bunch of people, but i always used to defend him to my family, back in the day when he was played by karl and used to get into all kinds of shit, i used to defend him. i felt sorry for him. i related to him in some ways. i think i’ve spoken about this before. it’s sibling shit. i won’t bore you with it. but i have always cared for him.

and i hated so much of what ED made him do in like 2015. i thought it was awful. and that’s partly why i feel so blessed for how they have made his character grow, how they have redeemed him, how they turned him from a panto villain into this loving, devoted husband who still has an edge to him, but who ultimately cares and loves with all his heart.

and i’m annoyed at ED for sort of toying with our emotions again so soon. but at the same time i trust them, i trust that what they do won’t fuck up robron, i trust that it won’t be a case of robert genuinely wanting or needing rebecca; just as it wasn’t a case of aaron genuinely wanting or needing to hurt kasim.

but i just cannot bare people slating robert, or even slating ED for that matter. is it that hard to wait 2 weeks or however long it is??? is it that hard to just....wait and see, to reserve judgement????

and i know it shouldn’t bother me so much but it does. because the whole idea of this even happening in the first place is unsettling enough (although i stand by everything i’ve said regarding my faith in ED and my trust that this scene won’t be a complete mess, i do know that sloppy writing occurs sometimes and while i like to think that this won’t be one of the examples of that, at this stage we don’t know for sure) and with the added nonsense of people losing their fucking shit just makes it all unbearable.

and i wish i could just be in the here and now, like i feel like we were last week. because last week was lovely. even though we knew aaron was getting sent to prison, we were still very much in the moment, and even the sad parts were sad in the best possible way. and now we’re out the other side and everything is back to being unsettled and uncertain and that is what causes the panic.

and a part of me just wishes we never knew anything???? or at least, that we could only learn about what might happen a few days before??? because we now have two whole weeks of just waiting and worrying and dealing with people being awful and making out robert is the devil and that ED are horrific and this is “bad storytelling” before we even know what is going to happen.

and that means it’s going to be a struggle for me to enjoy what we’ve got coming up before then. i mean i’m hoping i’ll get over it but i don’t even know at this point. i’m so sad and pissed off and just stressed out. 

i know it’s not real. i know they’re not real. but i feel like they’re all i have. they are honestly everything to me. and i feel like i somehow need to distance myself in order to actually enjoy it a normal amount of not be so consumed by it, but how do i do that??? how do i do that when i have been here from the beginning, when i have watched these characters grow over the past decade, i watched their relationship develop naturally and i fell in love with watching them fall in love, and i have been there every single step of the way??? how do i suddenly like....not care as much??? especially now we have sort of peaked, especially now they are into Iconic Power Couple status??? 

i don’t know what to do and it makes me sad because they bring me so much joy but with the joy comes the pain and i know most of that is due to the fandom but the fandom is also what brings me so much joy and it’s such a big part of my life and my time???? i lead a quiet life, i’m not super busy, i work in a couple of very quiet little shops all on my own, 6/7 hour days with nothing but a laptop for company and in these winter months sometimes only a handful of customers each day. that’s a lot of time to fill and consume and what better way to do that then spend it on fandom? which is all good and well when things are wonderful and there’s happy gifsets and meta and fun and games and all that good stuff.

but when things shift, when this sort of thing is happening the negativity is literally unavoidable and it honestly just shatters me. and i’m tired of being in this constant cycle of things going really well and having lots to look forward to and then one stupid little spoiler (that often turns out to be bugger-all) just destroys the mood and it’s all panic and hate and there are people desperate to put people’s minds at ease and then there are people that bash people for putting others’ minds at ease and then there are the people that just love hate and spewing shite on anon and it is just so stressful and not fun and i wish it didn’t bother me and i could just ignore it but i’m too emotionally pathetic and fragile to do that, and i care way too much to do that and i know i should probably just steer clear for a while but how can i do that???? we have ages to wait until this is possibly laid to rest?????

i’m just so sad that this is happening so soon after such a wonderful week, i was on such a high after last weeks episodes and now i just feel so awful and i’m going to shut up now because i don’t even know anymore. i’m just talking shite. 

[adementedfangirl-blog]

Empire of Storms Review

Please note that this post is my opinion and I am not changing it. I would prefer it if you did not argue with me. If you loved Empire of Storms and saw no flaw in it, I suggest you don’t read this.

Spoilers ahead. I’ll try to give some forewarning, but if you have not read EoS, DO NOT READ.

I would like to start out saying that, up to now, I have adored Sarah J. Maas’ writing. I recently started ACOTAR and I’m hooked. The ending of Throne of Glass made my heart pound and my hands tremble; I nearly cried at the end of Heir of Fire; Queen of Shadows had me begging for more. But Empire of Storms, in my not-so humble opinion, was a disappointment.

It started off great, I think. Elena is a great character and I love her. The beginning of the book really helped me connect to her character. I also enjoyed how Aelin was not recognized as Queen of Terrasen.

Then it began to go downhill from there. I hardly remember anything between the beginning and the middle of the book. The writing became monotonous, and Aelin’s melodramatic speeches became exhausting to the point where I was tempted to skip them. (Aelin is an all-powerful force of nature who clawed her way up from darkness, I get it. I don’t need to be told fifteen times)

When the fight scene in Skull’s Bay came, I was practically drooling for more. Lysandra.... holy crap. She was my favorite character already, but I never knew how powerful she really was until now. <Spoiler ahead> I remember reading when Aedion shot the sea wyvern--it was like a movie in my head. I got goosebumps so bad (and it’s even giving me the chills now just thinking about it. Sara J. Maas is amazing at fight scenes. I also enjoyed the fact that Lysandra got some attention for once. Up until then, everybody pretty much drooled over Aelin. It was nice for a change of pace. Sarah J. Maas is incredible at fight scenes, which is mind-boggling, because I downright suck at them. XD

<Spoiler alert> But that change of pace ended quickly, to my chagrin, when the sex scene happened. In all honesty, I was actually looking forward to it because I thought it was going to be a tender, meaningful, and passionate ordeal. I, a probably borderline-asexual individual, was looking forward to Aelin and Rowan’s bedroom scene. I don’t mind sex scenes when they’re well-placed, but PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEEEASE stop turning it into erotica! Nothing led up to the sex scene! Rowan pretty much said, “Wanna do it on a beach?” “Hell yeah!” Like, wouldn’t Aelin get sand in her vagina? And next thing you know, he’s licking her nipples “seductively.” That’s gross, not romantic.

Not to mention it was incredibly cheesy. “Velvet-wrapped steel”... I can’t.

Anyway, I got sick of Aelin mouthing off to ELENA FREAKING HAVILLIARD, THE FIRST QUEEN OF ADARLAN really quick. But that’s just me.

Theeeen Manon came aboard. I predicted that she and Dorian were going to get together, but I was furious when Dorian and Manon pretty much began dating even though they barely knew each other. Then, next thing you know, they’re trynna have sex. What??? It’s like Sorscha was just a tool to make Dorian’s backstory more tragic. It frustrates me because Sorscha was the only normal character in the entire series, and when she died, it’s like she never existed!

<Spoiler alert> Oh, and now it turns out that Manon is a Crochan queen. Whoopty doo. ANOTHER character who can’t be an average human being/Blackbeak witch/whatever. Because a hint of mediocrity is a sin.

It’s precisely that that makes me cringe at this book. I’m an average teenager. I know nothing of royalty and responsibilities over kingdoms. I want a character who is the same way, and the only few characters who fit those (right off the top of my head, anyway) are Chaol, Nesryn, Nox (btw, where is Nox?), and Luca (I hope we get to see Luca again).

AND SPEAKING OF SEEING PEOPLE, WHERE IS CHAOL????

I get that he went to Torre Cesme, but I at least wanted to have a couple chapters dedicated to Chaol. Is he okay? The heck is happening? I miss him. He’s one of the few characters I feel a strong connection to.

I read an EoS review that said that Chaol is a main character (like Ron, Hermione, and Harry); you can go a short period of time without them, but enough is enough. And I completely agree.

<Spoiler ahead> I must say, though, I enjoyed the ending very much. I was up at 11:00 on a school night trying to finish the book, restraining myself from crying. “Where is my wife?” ... I about burst into tears the same time Lorcan did. (Lorcan is now my precious baby, tbh) I love how everyone ended on bad terms, especially Aedion and Lysandra.

Speaking of Lorcan, I actually enjoyed Elide and Lorcan’s romance. Lorcan became my favorite character in this book. I’d been waiting for the day that I would be able to connect to him. I also enjoyed Elide and Lorcan’s first kiss. It was very well-placed and I read that scene over and over again.

Back to ranting. How did Aelin suddenly master her powers when, back in Wendlyn, she could barely hold her own against Rowan?? On top of that, she hadn’t been able to train with her powers throughout the entirety of Queen of Shadows. How did she suddenly become as good as Rowan Whitethorn, a Fae male who has had centuries of training and preparation??? He trained under LORCAN SALVATERRE for a DECADE. It’s like she never struggles anymore.

Another thing: why does everyone in that series have to be unrealistically gorgeous? I’m just a short, average-looking, acne-covered teenager. It’s hard to relate to any of the characters, looks-wise. I don’t have ginormous boobs, big lips, and bright-colored eyes. I thought Elide was a breath of fresh air when I first read about her, but NOPE. She just HAS to have enormous tits, despite probably being underfed for a good long while, doesn’t she?

I wish Fenrys and Gavriel would’ve gotten more attention. I liked them. Lol. Same thing with Arobynn Hamel. <Spoiler alert> I wish he wouldn’t have died so quickly. He had so much potential. What was his backstory? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him fight, either, which is also disappointing.

In conclusion, Empire of Storms had a spellbinding ending and one dazzling fight scene, but the rest was mush. Sarah J. Maas should quit the unnecessary romances and stick to her trump card: fight scenes. Sorry if this review was really messy. I’ve been holding this in for a while now for fear that people would attack me for it.