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BTS Lingerie They Would Like

Anon asked: BTS preferred lingerie looks🔥😘    

Now this is my kind of ask B) Thanks for requesting, and I hope you enjoy! Oh and for my plus sized people out there, I also included plus sized lingerie, cause I know some lingerie’s don’t work on all body types  -Spice

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Nothing To Be Sorry For (Diana/Wonder Woman x Reader)

Prompt:  i’ve had to deal with some pretty bad homophobia lately that’s left me feeling pretty down. would you mind doing a diana/reader where she sticks up for the reader in a similar situation? it would really help

Thank you so much for this request. I hope it helps! Also, just fyi, I made this a modern au, so just remember that as you read. ;)


You sat behind your desk at work, typing away at the old keyboard, trying to get the report for your boss filed. Glancing up, you looked through the glass that separated her corner office from the rest of the cubicle maze you spent most of your days in, studying some paperwork all while looking absolutely pristine. Diana Prince was, in your opinion, an absolute goddess, and while you were a hard worker and good secretary, you had to admit that you spent too much time just watching her and her effortless beauty. You let out a sigh, wondering what it might be like to kiss those soft lips of hers, what it would be like to make her grin and laugh, so different from the impersonal, polite smiles she’d give you as you interacted with her throughout the day.

Your musings were interrupted, though, when the form of one of your coworkers blocked your view of her. Looking up, you saw that it was Daniel, one of the jerks who worked in payroll. He’d come onto you a few times in the past, but you’d always politely declined his offers for drinks after work or dinner on the weekend. You weren’t the slightest bit interested in him, and he’d gotten less and less friendly after each rejection.

“You making eyes at the boss lady, (Y/N)?” he sneered, leaning over you. “You know, I’ve heard some rumors going around that you’re a queer. That true? Is dick not good enough for you?”
Your jaw dropped upon hearing his harassment, and you looked around to see if any of your friends were nearby. They weren’t, though, as your desk was separate from all the others, and so you were alone to face Daniel as he kept talking.

“That’s unnatural, you know,” he continued, looking over you with disgust. “Of course, it would be hot to watch you and another girl-”

“Daniel, what are you doing here?”

Both of you looked up to see Diana leaning in her doorway, arms crossed and eyebrow arched as she considered the man still hunched over you. Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes, but you bit your lip and tried to blink them away, looking down at the floor, ashamed.

“Just having a pleasant conversation with (Y/N) here,” he smirked, finally straightening up and stepping away from you.

“It didn’t sound pleasant,” her sharp tone corrected, sending your head snapping up as she walked up to Daniel, poking a finger at his chest roughly. “It sounds as if you were being an ignorant pig; it sounds like you were harassing her in the workplace.”

At the mention of workplace harassment, something he knew he could get fired for, Daniel gulped and took a step back, holding his hands up.

“Hey, now, Miss Prince, no need for name calling,” he smiled weakly. “Besides, if you knew the feelings she had for you, maybe you’d see why I’m-”

“I would be lucky to have a girl as bright as her be interested in me,” she interrupted, taking a step forward with every step he took back. “As would any woman or man. Frankly, Daniel, you’re not important to this company, and I have no desire to sign the paycheck of a homophobic, ignorant piece of scum like you. Go home, and don’t bother to come back tomorrow. Or the next day. In fact, I’ll have security throw you out on your ass if I catch you in this building again. Are we clear?”

Upon hearing he was fired, the man’s face twisted into an expression of fury, and he reared his hand back to slap your boss.

“You fucking bitch!”

Before he could strike her, though, she caught his wrist and twisted it until you heard bones snap, the sound almost drowned out by his wail of pain when she reared back and punched him square in the nose, immediately causing blood to rush out of it. Pushing him away roughly, she watched as he scrambled to his feet and started walking in the opposite direction, towards the elevators that would take him down to the floor his cubicle was on. Turning on her heel, Diana faced you, watching with a concerned expression as tears fell down your face. You were still too surprised by what happened to realize you were crying, though, so you made no move to wipe them away as she gently took one of your hands, pulling you to your feet.

“Come with me, (Y/N),” she instructed softly, pulling you into her office, past a door that rested along the wall behind her desk to reveal a private bathroom. Closing the door behind the two of you, she quickly took you into your arms, and something within you broke. Daniel’s words echoed through your mind, and your humiliation kept washing over you in waves, drawing to your memory all the times someone had made disparaging comments about your sexuality.

All the while, Diana held you against her, her hands tracing soothing circles into your back as she murmured gentle words against your ear. Her voice was so soothing that, after a few minutes, your tears stopped, leaving you sniffling into her shirt, which would no doubt be stained with Daniel’s blood and, now, your tears.

“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, but you were stopped from saying anything else when her fingers gripped your chin, making you look at her.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she insisted. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I can’t believe I let someone hurt you on my watch.”

“You didn’t know,” you assured her, making a small smile come to her lips.

“Well. At least neither of us will have to see that unpleasant man again, right?”

“Right,” you agreed. “Um… I have another shirt in my car, if you need to borrow one.”

A confused look crossed her face before she looked down, seeing the various stains on her no-doubt expensive shirt.

“Oh,” she chuckled. “No problem.” Grabbing the end of her shirt, she lifted it over her head to reveal a simple but elegant black tank top underneath, its collar and straps decorated with white lace. None of the stains had sunk into it, and it looked as if it were part of her outfit, what with how cute it looked on her. In fact, it accentuated her curves even more than the flowy blouse had, and you found yourself blushing and looking away.

Yet again, though, your chin was caught between her thumb and forefinger, and you were looking up into her deep brown eyes, filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

“(Y/N),” she said carefully, watching your face intently. “Was he right about the feelings you have for me?”

Your face lit up in a bright, warm blush, but you found that you couldn’t lie as she looked at you. It felt like your answer to that question was crucial, as if you would be breaking a sacred law to lie to this woman.

“I… I really like you,” you finally confessed, immediately feeling relief when her face lit up with a soft smile.

“I like you too, (Y/N),” she whispered back, one of her arms snaking around your waist to pull you closer. “I have ever since you started working for me.”

You felt weightless as her words rang in your ears, as if your body had ascended into the clouds upon hearing her soft voice say the words you’d wanted to hear from her for so long.

“Really?” you squeaked, causing her to chuckle.

“Really,” she affirmed, the fingers on your chin brushing your lips as she moved to cup your cheek. “And I would really like to kiss you right now.”

Letting a shaky sigh fall out of your mouth, you leaned in and kissed her, taking a deep breath as you finally felt her soft lips against yours, moving them slowly as she held you there. Your arm wrapped around her back, hands coming to rest on her shoulders as you tried to memorize everything you could about the moment. How her mouth tasted like cinnamon, how her breasts pressed against you, how her hand lay warm against your cheek, the way her ponytail slid over her shoulder to brush against your shoulder. It was amazing, the best thing you’d ever felt, and you almost whimpered when she pulled away. From the look on her face, the loss of contact pained her just as much as it did too, so it was with no hesitation when you answered the question she asked you next.

“Would you like to go to dinner toni-”



Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x Reader
Warning(s): Thomas is a dick, high school, (mild bullying maybe can you call it that?), fluff
Word Count: 2,286

A/N: @scrabblesense loves pomegranates and i was eating some the other day and was inspired by this so here it is its so long-


History was never a favorite of yours. It was your first class after lunch, and you had begun to look forward to the end of it. Not because of the subject (History was secretly a favorite of yours), or the teacher. No, you probably would enjoy the class if it wasn’t for one curly haired bastard. Thomas Jefferson seemed to have made it his personal vow to annoy you in any way possible.

He sat behind you, his long legs taking up the space next to your desk. He would tap your chair and act like he hadn’t. He’d borrow a pencil and never return it. He’d answer questions you had raised your hand for. Hell, on the first day, Thomas even took your name tag place card you had made. He irked you to pieces.

Lately, however, he’s been bringing pomegranates to lunch. His lunch lasted through both the actual lunch, and- unfortunately for you- History class. He’d noisily suck on the seeds from behind you, and flick them at your back. You probably wouldn’t of noticed if some of the stray seeds hadn’t landed on your papers. Not wanting to make a scene in class, you ignored him the best you could.

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anonymous asked:

For betatoomega, can we see more Rex and Obi-wan? Like Rex being really respectful about what Obi-wan's going through but also really into him? Or Obi-wan comparing a good Alpha with what Anakin wanted

Staring at the dark ceiling with lidded eyes, Anakin tried to chase the dream he had moments before, the bed warm and silky around him.

It was Obi-Wan in his dream, Obi-Wan sitting on their couch with his hands in his lap, wearing…

His tongue flickered over his sleep dried lips.

His omega been wearing a soft wedding dress with sheer lace and pearls as decoration and little thin straps and a sweetheart neckline, elbow length silky white gloves, his neck covered in a silky collar, ready for a wedding ceremony with his hair pulled back in an artful little bun that allowed a few strands to fall forward to frame his face.

Ready for Anakin to remove the collar and bite the gland to bond them.

He’d looked so…docile in his dream, smiling almost shyly up at Anakin as if he was ready to be his and Anakin felt heat coil low in his belly before rage slithered through him and he snapped his eyes open with a snarl as he threw his covers aside, reminded that his dream was just that, dream.

His omega was gone, out there in the galaxy among other alphas without Anakin there to protect what was his.

With a sharp wave a vase was sent flying at the wall and shattered into pieces as he snarled to himself, the Sith’s glowing eyes casting an eerie light as he matched over to his closet to get dressed.

He wanted his mate back, dressed in white and ready to be claimed, he wanted him back in his hands, to touch and there was nothing and no one in this galaxy that would stop him.

He’d slaughter anyone who tried.


Soothing was the word that came to mind as Obi-Wan curled into Rex side with the alpha’s arm around him as they sat together in the lounge of the ship that was taking them to Selonia in the Corellian system to a safe house provided by the Rebels Bail was working with.

Before he had been turned into an omega, he’d never noticed how the scent of an omega or alpha affected him but now he could. Bail scent had a sweetness to it that set him at ease and made him want to curl close and just… well relax.

But Rex scent…

Well Rex scent made him feel safe, made his racing heart settle down and made the anxieties he carried around him frizzle out and die if only for the moments when Rex was pressed against his side and Obi-Wan’s nose was close enough to smell the others pheromones.

Cody almost had the same effect but it was only recently Obi-Wan had learned that the 212th were safe.

Instinctively he was still leery of his own men.

But Rex was safe.

Rex had been safe from the moment he had seen the man again and had never tried to shoot him down or hurt him or contain him at all.

Rex had rescued him and meant safety.

There was a quiet crooning noise and Rex nose brushed his temple. “Are you alright Obi-Wan? Do you want another blanket or should I get you some water or juice?” He asked quietly into the others ear.

“No, no Rex I’m quite alright at the moment… you’re very warm.” Obi-Wan noted.

“A gene modification of all clones, we’re engineered to handle most climates and therefor run a few degrees warmer then most humans when its cold or we go cooler when we’re in warmer climates.” Rex waved off with an easy explanation.

“Makes sense I guess.” Obi-Wan murmured, pulling the blanket a bit more tightly around himself and tucking it in. It was so easy to be cold now, the coldness of space bothering him more then it used to.

Clearly Rex took note of that as he started to slowly rub Obi-Wan’s upper arm. “Would you like to sit in my lap for warmth? You certainly don’t have to but I’m offering you more warmth if you want it.” He shifted, pushing his chair a bit back to ensure Obi-Wan understood the offer.

Hesitating briefly, Obi-Wan smiled as he thought about how respectful Rex had been about touching him, avoiding the gland of his neck and asking for permission every time to ensure the former Jedi’s safety and comfort.

Shifting slowly until he was sitting in the others lap sideways, he let Rex tuck him beneath his chin with the clones arms tight around him, rubbing lightly along his side and upper arm to provide the heat he could.

‘…Is this what an alpha is suppose to feel like? Gentle and warm, soothing nerves?’ Obi-Wan wondered, nosing shyly at the opening of Rex shirt where the scent was strongest as long as you ignored the mating gland which Obi-Wan was with iron will.

It felt…nice.

And then Obi-Wan reminded himself firmly that that he was a hunted omega. ‘Anakin would slaughter any Alpha I showed attention…’

Why is proto-Lucio literally a Lucario gijinka…
Note the dreads, shoulder strap, neat decorated glove, spike design on the contrasting tank top, thick black belt with zigzag, silly blue shorts, nonsensical legs…

Never mind the fact Lucios name is Lucario without the -ar- …
Lucario can learn Healing Pulse and Extreme Speed….
His hidden ability is ‘Justified’ which goes by ‘Heart of Justice’ in Japan which also seems appropriate…

I want answers.

birthday [myungjun]

Originally posted by binjinjin

[hi so this is a little five word prompt drabble thing i wrote for my friend krys’ birthday! it is still Y/N x reader, meaning that it is not name-specific, so don’t think you can’t read it if you’re not krys]

word count: 1648

warnings: none

“Do it. I dare you.”

You never liked birthday parties.

Being the center of attention wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed.

It was especially bad when you were little, and had so few friends that your parents had to invite random kids from your class. They never came.

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Victoria’s Secret - Tim Drake x Reader

Prompt: “You can expect me to walk home with you dressed like that” with Tim drake?? (requested by anon)

“Hey Tim? Can I get your opinion on something?” You asked from behind the dressing room door. You and Tim had nothing better to do so you decided to hang out at the mall. You got one look at the Victoria’s Secret and decided today was a good day to get new lingerie. You dragged Tim with you while you shopped and you would occasionally see him hold a garment up in bewildered inspection.

“What is this even supposed to cover?” He had asked presenting a very skimpy getup to you. You giggled at his innocent enough question.

“Maybe it’s not supposed to cover anything.” You shot back with a wink. Tim blushed a deep red as his mind wandered to imagining you in the outfit.

“I really don’t see how my opinion is going to be of much use.” He replied from beyond the door.

Please?” You pleaded innocently. You could hear him sigh before he reluctantly opened the door and stepped in.

“What can I do-” He started as he turned around to face you as he closed the door. When he took in your ensemble his eyes widened and his jaw comically dropped. “Holy shit.” He whispered to himself as his eyes raked up and down your form.

“Thoughts?” You asked slowly turning around for him to get the full view of the sexy lingerie.

“Is it bad that my first thought is to rip it off your body?” Tim blurted blushing deep at his lustful thoughts.   

“Good. I’ll get it then.” You said cheerfully. “What do you think of this one then?” You asked holding up another piece of alluring red lacy lingerie.

“Is that in any way functional?” He asked poking at the complicated decorative designs and strappings.

“Not at all.” You replied with a bright smile. You bit your lip coyly and strutted up to him and rested your hand sensually on his chest. You leaned up to the tips of your toes and whispered seductively in his ear. “Tell ya what, I’ll buy them both, change into one of them in the bathroom and when we get home you get to find out which one I was wearing all along.” You then proceed to take his earlobe in between your lips and gently bite down before pulling away. Tim let out a low agonized groan and his hands moved to firmly grip your ass and push your hips against his. You could already feel him becoming excited by your proposal.

“Why are you this cruel to me?” Tim groaned. “How can you expect me to walk home knowing you’re dressed like this?” He asked his hand reaching out to gently cup your breast. You gently pushed his hand away with a devious smirk.

“No touching darling. I haven’t paid for this yet. We wouldn’t want you to rip it before we even get home, would we?” You asked with an arched eyebrow.

“That would be a shame.” Tim replied, his voice raised with sarcasm. You could already see him formulating a plan to get you out of the lingerie as soon as you got home. Tim was not a patient man when it came to you teasing him. You were going to savor the opportunity while it lasted. You too had your own plans for your new investments.  

This is my @askhqchibis Secret Santa gift for @parsnops who asked for some YakuLev fluff and I did my best delivering! I hope you’ll like it aahhhh


Yaku Morisuke had a problem. That problem was a giant, 2 meter tall, annoying boyfriend- or rather, the fact he himself was a tiny 1.65 meter person- wait, really, it had more to do with a star. A traditional Christmas star, that was supposed to sit on the top of their entirely too tall Christmas tree.

The small man glanced at the top, then at the star in his hand, then back to the top of the tree with more despair in his eyes. 

He was supposed to be responsible for all the decorations this year, no exceptions. Not to mention they had a little fight that morning because Lev decided to make all the gingerbread cookies dick shaped. His excuse was “What? I asked what I should do and you said “whatever you want”! Don’t blame me!“

He had to stop himself from attacking his boyfriend, and instead sent him to the store to get the necessary ingredients so they can redo the cookies properly.

Glancing at the clock, Yaku estimated he had maybe five minutes, ten tops to get the star to the top of the tree before Lev arrives and he won’t be able to do it discreetly. There was no way he’d let his boyfriend see him struggle to do it and give him another reason to tease him about his height. He was already doing that constantly anyway. 

So he dragged a chair over, but it still wasn’t quite enough since he was horizontally far from the top, and really, did Lev get a tree this big just to mess with him? 

Plan B it is. Climb the chair, onto the windowsill, then the bookcase, which is secured to the wall, then hope not to fall and die while attaching the star to the top of the tree.

The first part of the plan went exceedingly well. He found safe footing on the bookcase, and was halfway to the top of the tree when the front door swung open violently and Lev loudly declared, "They didn’t have the regular eggs so-”

Shit shit shit gotta get down and pretend nothing happened-

“I had to get the organic ones, and those cost like twice as much-”

Two seconds, maybe three if he’s lucky and he was only finding safe footing on a lower shelf of the bookcase-

“But we needed them so- Mori?" 

Oh, fuck, just a few more seconds and he would have been safely down on the floor and saved the embaressment of having to explain just why he’s hanging out with one leg on a bookshelf and the other on their window. "Yes? Is anything the matter?” He asked, cheeks burning. At least he managed to tuck the star in his pants behind his back and keep it hidden, otherwise Lev would have figured it out for sure.

“Uhhh… What are you doing? This seems kind of dangerous, and this is coming from me.” The Russian narrowed his eyes at him.

“Aahh… I’m just… Checking out the decoration symmetry.” Good one Yaku. “I wanted to get a full view of the room, so being higher is better.” Lev would probably fall for that, right?

“But… Isn’t the tree blocking your view? You’re like… Right behind it.” Lev said even slower, confused and suspicious now.

“No, nooo… It’s… It’s alright.” The smaller lied, not smoothly by any measure. Shit. The web of lies was quickly being undone, and so was his grip on that bookcase; he would always sweat when he’d get nervous and oh shit, yup, he’s falling. He hit the floor with a loud thud, face down, although his quick libero instincts saved him and he fell just so he wouldn’t damage anything important. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, but he knew the pain would be relatively short lived.

Lev was at his side in a moment fussing over him, flipping him over and cupping his face gently. “Mori! Are you okay? I should have caught you! urghhh why am I so slow?!" 

"Don’t be stupid,” Yaku mumbled, still dazed from the fall. “You were across the room, there was no way you could have made it.” Ahh… Lev looks cute when he’s worried, he dimly thought. He didn’t even realize he reached out to smooth the lines between his brows until he was done, and by then Lev was a mixture of surprise and fondness that looked oddly foreign on him.

“Come on, let me help you to bed and get you some ice, alright? Where does it hurt the most?”

Yaku mumbled at him the places that took the hardest hit, and Lev did his very best not to touch them while he carried him bridal style to their bedroom. He briefly left to get ice, then made sure he was comfortable before telling him he was going to clean up the mess in the living room.

The thing about Lev was, that 90% of the time he really was a childish mess, but when someone needed him he stepped up his game and could be just as caring and considerate as Yaku. He loved that side of him a lot, and it was always nice when it showed up. 

Drowned by all the happy thoughts of nice, caring Lev, Yaku almost forgot about the star. It definitely wasn’t on him, which means it probably fell and rolled away when he hit the floor. Would his boyfriend be able to figure it out now? Will he laugh at him? Fueled by the dreadful thought, Yaku dragged himself out of bed and back to the living room, eyes immediately drawing to the Christmas tree in the corner. The now fully decorated, star adorned tree. 

Did Lev….?

“Oh, I just thought I’d finish up in here while you rest…” Lev sheepishly said once he noticed his presence. He was holding a chain light decoration and easily strapping it to the wall, closer to the ceiling than Yaku would ever be able to, the Bastard. 

Oh, so not only did he not make the connection, but he was just trying to be nice… Yaku was almost brought to tears, thinking about how he yelled at him earlier that morning. They were just dick shaped cookies, who cares? He went over, apologized, and dragged his boyfriend down by the collar to get a kiss. 

Later that afternoon, a brand new batch of cookies came out of the oven, and fortunately, this time, none of them were an inappropriate shape. Yaku took care of that, when he and Lev made them together. They playfully smeared flour and batter on each other, kissing and laughing, somehow in the process managing to also make some gingerbread cookies.
Masks by TallFlower (Overwatch) [Archive of Our Own]

DAY 2 of McHanzo Week — Canon Divergence || AU. Two vigilantes watch over the city of London. One, a mysterious gunman who stalks the streets. The other a silent cybernised-archer who takes to the rooftops. Together they keep the city safe. However one pitiful robber in King’s Row brings the two heroes together…

The robber raced up the fire escape, bursting onto the snowy rooftop in a huff. Sweat dotted his brow, his eyes wildly searching the grey skyline as he panted. With each breath, a billow of white cloud would rise into the cold night air. His fingers were practically the colour of bone with how tightly he gripped to the light blue bag in his hands. He looked back down the staircase he had just flown up seconds before.

Nothing chased up the stairs after him.

After a few beats he let out a long sigh of relief – believing himself to be safe. For now, at the least.

With a smile spreading across his face, he turned his back on the staircase and walked towards the ledge-wall. Quickly brushing away the freshly fallen snow off of the cement, he propped the bag against it and began undoing the clasp at the front. Instantly, he began combing through the contents, spilling notebooks and papers and makeup and a small toy bear by his feet.

If he had bothered to look up at the face of the building in front of him he would have noticed a mysterious archer glaring down at him.

From his perch on the windowsill, Hanzo had watched him race down the streets far below him, following the trail of footprints he made as he did. The thief didn’t stop – not even as he pushed people onto their knees and made them cry out with shock as they hit the ground. One elder in particular hit the ground with a sickening crash, having landed squarely on the wrapped box he was carrying in his hands. It was flattened entirely by his weight.

Hanzo did nothing as he saw the robber run down an alleyway and pull down the rusty fire escape, taking each step two at a time.

Hanzo zoomed in for a facial reconstruction to see if he already was on record. He read the man’s pale, daunt face. Not a single hair on his chin. Probably not any on his head either judging by the black beanie. A name flashed up after a few seconds; D A M I O N   W R I G H T.

He read over some of his details – he was unemployed, early thirties, lived in South London, Greenwhich. No major offences.

His eyes jumped back to the bag. It appeared to be a young girl’s, judging from the Pax Lodge badges that decorated one of its straps.

How pathetic , Hanzo couldn’t help but think to himself as he began to rise off of his haunches.

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Dangerous Woman

I’ve rehearsed this over and over, and over again in the mirror until it was flawless. After two glasses of wine, the liquid courage I needed, I think I’m ready. The funny thing is, I’m starting to think I didn’t need the push. Leati is what encourages me. He is what drives me. He is what makes me brave. So in turn I want to try something different. Something I wouldn’t normally do.
I’ve thought about this every which way and the result is always the same. I’ll blow his mind. In the best way. I’ve caught glimpses of the sparkle of his eyes when I do even the slightest thing out of character. This is no different. This is a level up.

“Baby girl?” His deep voice calls to me from the living room.

I take one last glance at myself in the bathroom mirror, deciding that this is as good as it is going to get. My hair is pinned up in a bun. My makeup is light and natural, but my lipstick could give anyone a run for their money. Fire engine red. His favorite color. And then there’s my robe. Black and silky, parted slightly so that he’ll see only a sliver of my red lace lingerie underneath. To match my lipstick, of course. I adjust my garter, making sure the clips to my thigh high stockings are secure. I spin on my heel and follow my man’s voice. He’s on the phone, but I can’t hear exactly what he’s saying over the thumping of my heart in my ears. I do focus on his tone though, the deep timbre like a guiding force. My guiding force.

Propping myself along the threshold of the living room, I hear Leati speak into the phone “My lady and I are just gonna go out to dinner and a movie.”
Gosh. We sound like such a bore. That’s exactly why I need to do this. He looks so fucking scrumptious too. He had a meeting today, so he’s dressed to perfection. He’s always perfect, but in a crisp white button down, black suit and red tie, he’s the best present to unwrap. And we match. Obviously he hasn’t spotted me. I step forward, my heels clicking along the floor now loud enough to get his attention. The boredom on his face immediately shifts to shock, then to lust. I swear I hear him inhale sharply, but I’m not certain. That’s when his eyes sparkle, telling me that this was the perfect idea.

“Yeah. I’ve gotta call you back. I’ve gotta go.” Just like that he cuts the call.
“Dinner and a movie is canceled, babe.” I fiddle with the sash on my robe, drawing his attention to my sternum. I see him spot the lace in an instant. His chest puffs out and his stature widens. 
“Understandably. Fuck dinner and a movie.”
“Hmm.” I gift him with a smirk, coaxing a smile out of him that showcases his dimples. “Fuck being the operative word?”
“Definitely.” He throws his phone on the coffee table without a care, and begins to make his way to his feet.
“Stay seated. I have a surprise for you.”
His big brown eyes widen. There lies hunger. “More? Say less. Get over here.”
“In due time, love. Don’t worry. Sit back.”
He follows suit, rubbing his palms on his thighs. His fingers tap impatiently at the material of his slacks.
“Antsy much?” I ask, taking stride to the coffee table and swiping up the remote to the stereo.
“Very much so.” He watches as I click play and the song starts to engulf around us, his eyebrow rising on its own accord.

I drop the remote, place the platform of my heel at the edge of the coffee table, giving it a swift push so that it glides across the floor, stopping in front of the window. Neither the blinds or the curtains are drawn, nor do I care. I spin and face my man, finding him reaching for me. I take a step back as I untie the sash of my robe. Leati picks up on the hint, finally sitting back to let me do my thing. The look on his face is by no means innocent. I allow the robe to slide down my arms and pool around my heels. Not for a second does he take his eyes off of me. His eyes devour me, just like I know he’s ready to, gliding over every curve, every inch of my skin. Spinning around, I give him a look at the cheeky panty of the set. The straps decorate my ass perfectly. I can hear the approval in the low growl that emerges from his throat. I reach up and take the pin out of my bun so that my hair will fall down in waves along my spine. I shake my head along with the song, tousling my hair so it gets a little messy and wild. This isn’t meant to be a neat night. Using the point of my heel, I kick the robe back so it flies back, landing hopefully where I needed it to be.

When I spin around, Leati is removing the robe from his face with an insanely big smile on those perfect lips. The hairs that frame his face in a bit of a mess now. Total knockout. Stepping forward again, I adjust the straps of my bra, making my breasts look fuller. I tap his ankles with the point of my shoes so that he’ll spread his legs. I glide in between them. My Samoan God and his hands move freely, feeling all of my back, sliding over my hips, down to my ass where he gives me a good, hard squeeze.

“Like what you see, babe?” I whisper, my voice is heavy and shaky, but I go on.
“I love, love what I see, baby girl.”

I reach behind him, unraveling his bun, running my fingers through the now free strands so that it’s as wild as mine. I pull off his blazer and throw it aside. Mischief grows on his gorgeous face, giving me even more encouragement. I roughly pull his tie loose, letting it fly just like the blazer.
Leati takes advantage, pulling the strap at my thigh and one on my panty, releasing them so they slap my skin with a loud snap that cracks through the music. He continues to skirt his fingers over my body. I turn and kick my heels off. Before I can straddle him like I want to, I feel his hands grip tight on waist, pulling me, slamming me down to sit on his lap. I improvise. I spread my legs over his, cover his hands with mine and place them on my neck. He grips the sides softly, with just enough pressure to make me breathe a little harder and then our hands are moving again. Down my chest, stopping at my breasts, his fingers find my nipples poking through the thin fabric. I sink into him, feeling his heated skin through the fabric of his shirt. It isn’t enough. I want to feel his skin on mine already.
Our entwined hands flow down my ribs, my stomach, to the strip of my garter. And I’m aching, aching for him now. He presses his erection up against me, right at my entrance. If this wasn’t a routine I had going, I’d give into him and let him have his way with me.
I push off of Leati and stand, gracing him with a face to face with my ass. Peeking over my shoulder, I watch the admiration in his expression grow. I move my hips to the beat, showcasing everything I have to offer. Just as I expected, he leans forward, placing soft kisses over my heated skin. What takes me by surprise is him biting down on my right cheek. And that’s when I lose the fight. I quickly straddle him, my fingers scrambling to find the stupid buttons on his shirt. He chuckles to himself, taking another opportunity to smack my left cheek, evening out the stings. When an involuntary moan leaves me, he finds my mouth, taking what is unquestionably his. Impatient isn’t even the word to describe me now. I hold tight onto lapels down his sternum, and pull open the fabric, sending buttons flying every which way.
That surprises the both of us enough that we laugh against each other’s lips, catching a mouth full of teeth each. But we don’t care.

I’m reaching for a random strap when Leati’s hand lands over mine, stopping me. “Leave it all on.”
I pout if I’m not mistaken. “Skin to skin,” I grumble.
“Since we’re setting a precedent…” His hands move to the mid section of my bra, and he pulls, snapping the poor thing at the center. Then it goes flying. As the giggles cease, and I can finally look him right in the eye, I realize that what I thought was lust in his eyes earlier wasn’t lust. It was love. This is how he looks at me when he tells me he loves me. With his hair wild, traces of my red lipstick all over his pink pouty lips, shirtless, and about to ravage me until I can’t see, talk, or walk straight, I can appreciate that he is the only man that will ever get all of my body, my heart. Me entirely. And I couldn’t ask for anything more.


Iron Maiden with inscription, dated 1593, Austria

Carved in one piece, a sarcrophagus-like hollowed tree trunk with shaped shoulders and two folding doors. There are nailed iron bands on the head with a hinged iron mask of riveted clasps with attached ears and glasses with cut out points directed inwards around the eyes, and with a long slightly curved quadrangular pointed iron spike at the level of the larynx. The doors are each mounted with seven long inward pointing quadrangular spikes. The forged, iron fittings are cut in Gothic style, with two squared hand grips having rosette shaped perforations, and four strap hinges decorated with perforations en suite with the dated inscription: “15 HAT DICH VERLASSEN / GOTT UND ERBARM 93 / SO NIM ICH DICH / IN MEINE ARM” (15 God and pity have abandoned you 93, so I take you in my arms).

According to the historian, Karl von Amira (1848-1930), although the iron maiden was an instrument of torture, it was never used as such since it served only to terrify criminals and persuade them to confess.


Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4700

Warnings: Dubcon, bloodplay, violence

Tags: cunnilingus, forced orgasm, partially clothed female, clothed male, torture, blood play, pretty much just a bunch of awful shit

A/N: I made this gift fic as a thank you to Anna ( @miss-andrie aka @kylorengarbagedump ) for being a great friend, an obsession partner, and a sexual frustration release for Kylo Ren on a daily basis. Plus, she wrote me this beaut of a fic-An Alternative Method-and I’m returning that favor :)

The caverns had become a secondary home ever since you gained the trust of the Guavian Death Gang.  In the midst of an ongoing contract along with a hefty monetary promise should they find remnants of the Empire, they shipped you deep into the orifices of the Jakku caves to recover something–anything–relating to Luke Skywalkers location.   There was, however, one thing you failed to mention to these members–your undying loyalty to General Organa herself, promising to return whatever information recovered to the Resistance Base.  

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I. My mother still talks about her sister in present tense.

“Kirsten is a feminist,” she tells me in the car one day. “You would love talking to her.” As if I can just dial some metaphoric phone number and discuss gender roles with my ten-years-dead aunt.

You see my mother is an English teacher, years of studying grammar left its rules written in her brain familiar in the same way you can walk around your house in the dark without a single misstep. Even now I can still hear her correct a misused pronoun; “Dad took a picture of my brother, Dad took a picture of me, Dad took a picture of my brother and me; see, you wouldn’t say Dad took a picture of I, don’t say Dad took a picture of my brother and I.” Her voice corrects me in my head, a strange nostalgic autocorrect reminding me to name my antecedents and avoid misplacing my modifiers.

Hearing a mistake in my mother’s speech is like finding a typo in a textbook, an oddly satisfying badge of academic victory. But she speaks about her baby sister as if she still lives, as if her life was not stolen by a car crash almost ten years ago and I don’t correct her. Her language is still holding on.

“Kirsten is a feminist.”

“Kirsten is.”

II. My brother is sixteen and broken-hearted.

My first semester away from home, his best friend texts me that my brother wants to kill himself, and eight hours four states and a time zone away I pray for him with my eyes shut and my mouth open. Torn-muscled athlete, he did not cry when doctors told him he wouldn’t kick another soccer ball for a year but when a girl who gave him his first kiss tells him it’s over he slams his door and sits in silence.

I come home for break and he writes songs about goodbyes on the same guitar she fell in love with him for. He sings about heartbreak with her hand-decorated strap draped across his shoulders, wearing worn-out leather with impermanent “I love you”s written in permanent ink.

I ask him about it later—it’s a good strap, he tells me. Why would he throw it away?

III. My little brother belongs to a land he hasn’t seen since he was five years old but when he talks about the woman he still calls his mom his childhood accent still slips through. He falls asleep with an Ethiopian flag on his wall and smiles when I tell him I love him in Amharic; a-wud-a-ha-lo, Biruk.

IV. I have a little sister, too though she’d hate to be called little. She tries to be a different woman every day, dresses herself up as an artist a cellist a marathon runner but she still wakes me up at night when those dreams turn into nightmares. She still asks for sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Still wants to be tucked in before bedtime.

V. I have seen my father cry once, and it is when he says the words “Dad died this morning.”

At the funeral he gives a eulogy of family stories, sharing the tales of relatives and memories that my grandfather loved to retell over every Thanksgiving dinner.

His own tears halt his voice at the end, but my father swallows them back and keeps smiling.

VI. I sit writing this poem in an Illinois dorm room, thirty miles from Chicago with a map of Pennsylvania on my wall. Sometimes people ask me where I’m from and my first instinct is to laugh. It’s a long story, I tell them, I’m a Kansas-born dreamer who followed her family through South Carolina and Atlanta Georgia, Albany New York and Erie Pennsylvania and all these states are still stuck somehow in my heart, pushpins on a map of all the places I still try to call home.

On the first day of class my professor asks me if my last name is Italian. And I want to say no, I come from a family of never-forgettors. My last name is Norwegian forced onto an American tongue, a name still refusing to leave its homeland.

See, holding on is hereditary, and I come from a family that drives through new cities with the wrong license plates and breaks new ground with hometown soil still in our pockets.

And don’t you dare tell us to learn to let go, because when my mother dies I will still hear her voice in my head, correcting my grammar but she will not stop me from using present tense. Should I ever have a fight with my brother he will still carry pieces of me with him, he will not throw away the cards that say “I love you” even if he is afraid I do not mean it anymore.

My Pennsylvania-raised little brother will never stop calling himself Ethiopian, and my sister will keep growing up but never too tall to tuck herself into me.

When father passes on I will eulogize him with stories, never too broken to keep smiling.

See we are a family that holds on but that means we are a family that remembers, because we pray to a God of remembrance and even when I run away from Him I still sing myself to sleep in suscipes and wake up with an amen on my lips. My God I am yours for time and eternity, Lord I am yours forever.

Forever has no room for letting go.

This is what my family taught me: hold on, even when it seems like there is nothing left there in your hand to hold on to.

Remember in present tense.

—  c.w.,  A Family Portrait 
I win.

Originally posted by kate-kami

Agony. You were in sheer agony and you knew exactly why, a couple of days ago you and Justin had made a bet to see who could last the longest without having sex & it was killing you. You had walked into the kitchen and it had suddenly come to your attention how tight your shorts actually were, as you walked in you couldn’t help but concentrate on the friction created by the shorts, you were desperate and you knew that if Justin didn’t loose his composure before you, you’d lose and you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Justin being the competitive guy wouldn’t be easy to beat so you had to think of the perfect way to lure him in between your legs. You checked the time, noticing it was a few hours before Justin came home, you went upstairs and showered. You stepped out of the shower and made your way into your bedroom, your eyes scanned the satin draped bed as you thought of all the times Justin had made you moan, scream and cum on this bed, all the times you had rode him & made him moan. His moan. A shiver went down your spine as you thought of the grunt that came from his lips when you kissed his lower abdomen. The way his body would tense as you reached his cock. 

 You opened your dresser looking for the pair of lingerie you had saved for this exact moment. Usually Justin liked red lingerie, he said it was ‘sexy & made him want to fuck you’ but today was your day, you looked underneath your everyday underwear until you found the Victoria secret box and inside the black lace bra with red ribbons decorating the straps, you slid the bra on, which pushed up your boobs up giving them a more round shape & stepped into your thong making sure the bow on the g string was in perfect sight, if Justin was going to loose you had to look perfect. You put on a black crop top and high waisted shorts on top of the lingerie & finished off with some black knee high socks.

 For the make up, you decided to go with a smokey eye & red lipstick. You glanced at yourself in the mirror making sure your lipstick wasn’t protruding & that your eyeliner was sharp enough to slay. You made your way to the kitchen and pulled out a ice lolly knowing Justin would be home any minute, you wanted to make see what he had been missing. As the door opened you placed the cherry ice, in your mouth making sure your mouth was in an a perfect ‘O’ shape you began to suck batting your eyelashes innocently. 

 'Y/n?’ You heard him call out, even that was enough to give you butterflies but you had to keep your cool, you knew that Justin would be able to tell if you acted differently, so you called back in loud but seductive voice ‘in here baby’. You lifted up your posture & carried on sucking, this was it. If you didn’t play it cool, you would loose any chance of Justin giving in. ‘Get it together y/n’ you mentally scolded before the purple haired boy walked into the living room dropping his bag on the floor. He looked up, the first thing catching his eye being the ice pole which had disappeared into your mouth. Hunger clouded over his brown irises, as his roamed over your body. 

 You stand up making sure to push out your chest a little more, you make your way to the boy in front of you, making sure to sway your hips a little more than usual before placing your cold lips on his warm ones, as he found himself caught up in the kiss you pulled away, wanting him to want you more. 'Hey baby, how was work’ you say looking him straight in his eyes. Justin loved it when you were confident, he thought it was sexy. 'It-t was good thanks’ he said stuttering slightly. You giggled and walked into the kitchen as he followed you. He stood behind you, in front of the counter gazing at your ass. You felt the daggers in your back and decided to bend down as if you had dropped something giving him a perfect view of your ass. 

 You heard him moan, it was working. Seeing Justin like this did something for you knowing you were in control, didn’t help the situation. You mentally thanked yourself for wearing black shorts as they hid the wet mark which was beginning to form in your panties. You opened the water from the sink pouring yourself a glass of water, you opened your mouth a little wide making sure the a little bit of water would roll down your chin. You gasped and quickly put the glass down. You turned to Justin who was watching every move you made. 'I can be a little clumsy sometimes…I guess I have to change my shirt’ you removed your shirt slowly teasing the boy in front of you. 

 'Shit’ he whispered to himself, trying to change his position to hide his obvious bulge. You walk over to him dropping the shirt on the ground. You stood in front of him as your hand moved to his now prominent hard on. 'Did I do this daddy’ you continued to stroke him as he rested his head in between your shoulder moaning at the sudden contact. 

'Y/n stop…’, you moved your hand from his trousers and travelled up his body, you kissed his neck before turning around to whisper 'stop what daddy’. 'Fuck this’ he whispered you had never seen Justin move so quickly, he moved from the counter as he grabbed your ass. ’ jump.’ You did as he said as you continued to kiss him, he walked into your bedroom dropping you on the the bed before removing his shirt. The lilac haired boy hovered over your body as he began to kiss your neck leaving little hickeys. He swiftly removed your bra with one hand his mouth finding itself to your nipple whilst his hand played with the other. 

 You groaned as he got up, giving him a dirty look 'hold on baby, daddy is gonna show you what you’ve been missing’ he removed your shorts & just looked at you before removing your thong. 'You’re so beautiful y/n ’ he observed, he moved your legs further apart before he started to kiss your thighs, you could feel your core start to heat up 'don’t be a fucking tease’ you scolded, as Justin laughed at your impatience. He moved his lips to your folds kissing them gently before moving on to your clit, as you moaned his name whilst pulling at the ends of his hair.

 'Justin- I’m gonna cum’ you moaned trying to push his head away, but he wouldn’t move, you gripped your sheets as you moaned reaching your climax. 'Your turn’ you smiled at him, you moved from the bed and got on your knees, you pulled down his Calvins, you grabbed his member gently and rubbed the pre-cum around the head. 'Fuck, shit- y/n ’ you placed the tip in your mouth and sucked hard before blowing it gently. 'Baby please, I-’ before he could finish you put his whole length in your mouth making sure to swirl your tongue, you bopped your head up & down, you felt Justin’s hand tangle themselves itself into your hair urging you to go deeper. ’ y/n I’m going to cum’ he said before cumming in your mouth. You looked at him before swallowing.

 Lust, hunger & greed coated Justin’s eyes as you stood placing yourself on the bed, he kissed you passionately allowing you the chance to taste yourself. 'you ready?’ he asked, you nodded as he entered you, you moaned as length filled you up, It took a second for you to adjust to his size. 'Fuck baby your so tight’ Justin sighed as he began to thrust in and out of you creating a rhythm, 'fuck Justin’ you screamed moving your hands to his back scratching, Justin buried his head in the crook of your neck kissing the hickeys he left earlier on your neck. 'Aahh fuck Justin I’m gonna cum’ you screamed, you could tell he was too by the sloppiness of his thrust. 'Me too baby’ he moaned kissing your neck until you both climaxed.

 'That was amazing’ he said whilst rolling onto his side of the bed, a bead of sweat rolling of his forehead, 'yeah it was, but guess what?’ You said smiling at your boyfriend, 'what’ he answered dazed. ’ I win’ you giggled.

sigyndenning  asked:

Can you pleeeeease write something about Loki and a horse? XD

I should have posted this on Mother’s Day. :)


With an aching throat, Loki puts his face into the side of Sleipnir’s neck and inhales the familiar scent of sagebrush and leather. A long overdue reunion.

“Will you forgive my absence?” Loki says, drawing back, his fingers tangling in the coarse hair. “I was imprisoned. You know I would have come if I could.”

The king’s horse could not be in better condition, bright-eyed and strong. His hair is braided and bound with decorative leather straps, and his coat shines with health. These things should make Loki happy, but in his youth, he himself was well attended within Asgard’s walls. That does not mean Sleipnir knows love.

Sleipnir huffs his displeasure but bumps his head against Loki’s shoulder regardless. He keeps it pressed there until Loki chuckles and rubs behind his son’s ears in the place he likes best.

“My beauty,” Loki whispers. “Are you well cared for? Does someone come talk to you daily?”

Another huff. Sleipnir’s ears prick forward, and Loki’s heart gives a pang. That was not the answer he’d hoped for.

Loki presses his lips against the strong, muscled neck and says, “I am here now. Shall I take you to the trails beyond the city gates? We can run together, and I will tell you stories like I used to.”

Immediately, Sleipnir rears his head back and shakes out his mane. Loki barely has time to grin before his son pushes him forward, nosing him toward the gate.