what to wear with leather leggings

And another lovely scene by @panda-capuccino for the lovely Reylux work “Codega”. 


Kylo Ren stopped in front of her and gave her a once-over from toes to head. She could not see his eyes, but she could feel them silently assessing her and her readiness. She barely stopped herself from fidgeting with her clothes under his gaze. She was wearing her black training leggings and long undershirt, but had topped the ensemble off with a sleeveless tunic made of what seemed to be the same material as Kylo’s robe; the material was thick and would stand up well against a number of different weapons. A leather belt rounded out the ensemble, on which her lightsaber was clipped. On the other side was clipped an expandable quarterstaff, and a thigh holster on her right leg held a blaster pistol. She hadn’t exactly been sure which weapons would be appropriate, and so had tracked Asha Ren down in the armory just under an hour ago. The quarterstaff and pistol had been the Knight’s idea, and Rey had to admit that she felt comfortable with their use. She had not practiced much with her lightsaber, but she trusted her Master to not leader her into any situation where she could not handle herself with one or the other of her weapons.

“Good, you are prepared adequately,” he stated after he had finished raking his eyes over her. Rey shivered with a mixture of pride and that feeling she got every time she saw him in his mask; she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to hearing him speak through the blasted thing. “I have something for you,” he added after another moment. He motioned for her to follow him through the hangar doors, across the hangar, and up the ramp into his shuttle. Reaching down for something on one of the jump seats, he directed her to turn around with a twist of his fingers.

Rey felt him crowd behind her, towering over her form as he draped a fold of cloth across the front of her neck and over her shoulders. His gloved hands deftly adjusted the fabric and Rey heard the click of a pin locking in place on each of her shoulders. He gripped her by the shoulders once he was done, but didn’t make a move to turn her around. Rey was glad for the emptiness of the vessel, as she could feel her cheeks redden and her breaths were coming quicker. She could feel him behind her, even though there was likely a foot of space between their bodies, and she was overly aware of their only point of contact through her layers of clothes and his gloves.

Bruised Hearts and Bloody Knuckles

Collab with the incredibly awesome @texting-bangtanbts

Y/N Pov

Sweat dripped off your face, occasionally mingling with a tear as the two droplets mixed together and left tracks on your face. The gym was essentially empty, especially considering it was almost midnight, aside from the employees and the one middle aged man on the opposite side of the room. You were lucky that this particular gym stayed open until midnight on the weekends. Lena cast a concerned glance your way every ten minutes or so, or rather whenever she looked up from her paperwork at the front desk. You had been there for several hours, stopping only when you absolutely needed water or a rest, and the young woman was beginning to worry for you. The music was turned down low, a soft hum, overpowered by the satisfying thud of your gloves against the leather bag hanging in front of you. Jab, cross, uppercut, hook, hook, uppercut. You chanted in your head repeatedly, your body following through the motions as you repeatedly punched the bag in front of you. The massive black bag swung slightly from the power with which you hit it, and you became so focused on beating the shit out of it that you stopped paying attention to anyone and anything around you. 

How could you be so stupid? Jab, cross, uppercut, hook, hook, uppercut. How could he be so stupid? Jab, cross, uppercut, hook, hook, uppercut. The events from earlier that day flashed and swirled behind your eyes, reminding you of the text messages that started it all. The way that he had completely disregarded how you would feel. Gritting your teeth, you swung at the bag harder, panting with effort. With a jolt, the bag swung backwards from the force of your hit, and you reached forward to grab it, resting your sweaty forehead against the leather and closing your eyes to take a breath. You took several shallow breaths, swallowing thickly to take in more air. There was absolutely no point in being angry. Even after years of being friends, Taehyung still couldn’t figure out that you liked him. You thought that by this point it would be obvious, considering every time he went on a date or talked about another girl you got a bit jealous. It was childish yes, but you couldn’t believe he still hadn’t figured it out.

A fresh wave of anger rolled over you as you remembered what he had said this time. “Princess syndrome” he had called it. Ignoring the protests from your legs and arms, you let go of the bag and sank back into your stance, rolling your neck and shoulders as you got ready to start your next round of punches. You took a deep breath before resuming your assault of the leather bag in front of you, brows furrowing in concentration, knuckles rubbing against the insides of the gloves despite wearing wraps.

“I didn’t know you boxed.” A deep voice spoke, startling you slightly as you went to deliver a cross. You chuckled dryly at his comment.

“I guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me Taehyung.” You replied, a hint of bitterness lacing your words. If he noticed it, he didn’t say anything. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him standing there, arms crossed as he watched you. Damn him. Why the hell did he always have to look so fucking attractive? You were supposed to be mad at him and then he shows up looking like a damn model. Shaking your head at your own thoughts, you delivered a particularly strong hook to the punching bag in front of you, the sound music to your ears. “How’d you find me anyway? I doubt you did it by yourself.”

Taehyung clenched his jaw ignoring the obvious jab at him, gritting his teeth before answering.

“Jimin.” Was all the boy said, his eyes locked on your figure as you landed blow after blow on the bag in front of you. You looked tired, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. He could see it by the way your shoulders seemed to sag more and more after each punch.

“Bastard.” You muttered, cursing your other best friend under your breath between pants.

“Why did he know and not me?” Taehyung asked, failing to hide the slight edge in his voice. As if he realized how his question sounded he added quickly, “Or the rest of the boys for that matter.” You grinned to yourself, recalling how Jimin had discovered that you were a boxer. Grabbing the swinging leather bag, you smirked at the boy beside you.

“Who else do you think taught him?” You quirked your eyebrow teasingly, momentarily forgetting you were mad at the boy next to you. Taehyung’s eyebrows raised in surprise, recalling how Jimin had decided to try boxing before their Danger MV. Something about a more accurate portrayal. Even after the video was done, he had kept up with it. The others had always assumed it was simply because he liked it, but now Taehyung realized that it was because of you. It was simply a bonding activity with one of your best friends.

Staring at the boy in front of you, you finally took a moment to really take in his appearance. He was wearing a beanie, something that you felt should be illegal, and was dressed in his usual model-esque fashion. Clenching your jaw, you stopped yourself. You were mad at him, you reminded yourself. Eyes hardening, you angled your body back toward the bag and were readying yourself to punch again when a large hand grabbed your wrist stopping the motion of your arm. Your eyes trailed from the soft hand that had your wrist firmly in its grip, up to the brown eyes you had come to care for so much. Your lips parted slightly in shock at the situation you had found yourself in.

“Can we talk?” He asked you sincerely, his eyes searching yours for answers. You bit the inside of your cheek before you pulled your wrist from his hold, him easily letting you go.

“What’s there to talk about Tae?” You asked him, not meeting his eyes as you undid removed your hand from his grip, pulling your arms into your chest.

“Y/N, come on. We need to talk about what happened in the Group Chat today.” Taehyung said, making no move to stop you again as you returned to your punching combination.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You replied shrugging at his words as you delivered a solid right hook to the bag.

“You blowing up at me is nothing to you?” Taehyung scoffed in disbelief. You tensed and shot him a glare.

“That’s not what I said.” You grit out, eyes blazing as fresh waves of anger and jealousy rolled over you. Taehyung scoffed again, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at you.

“Oh really? Because that’s what it sounds like you said.” His words snapped something inside of you. With a frustrated and guttural groan, you slammed your fist into the bag in front of you. Taehyung stiffened in surprise at your actions, you had never seemed this angry, or violent for that matter, before.

“That’s just it! You never fucking hear what I say!” You glared at the boy in front of you, your E/C eyes meeting his warm brown ones, the fire slowly freezing over and turning your glare cold. Not waiting for a reply you spun on your heel and stalked over to the bench where your bag sat, unstrapping the leather boxing gloves and throwing them on the ground.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Taehyung threw his hands in the air exasperated, following you over to the bench, an irritated expression gracing his usually jubilant features. You rolled your eyes at his ignorance.

“Oh! And let’s not forget what you said to me. ‘Princess syndrome’ I believe is what you called it, oh and petty and stupid too.” You sneered, reaching down to grab your previously discarded gloves and throw them inside your gym bag.

“Hey! You blew up at me for no reason first. Remember?” Taehyung retorted, his deep voice not holding any of its usual warmth. You froze at his words. Did he really have no idea why you reacted the way that you did?

“You really don’t get it… do you.” You mumbled, the break in your voice barely audible as you gingerly ran your fingers over your raw and reddened knuckles, turning to face him. Despite being wrapped, your several hour-long stint with the punching bag had left the tops of your knuckles red and raw, and a few of them were bleeding slightly. In hind sight, you probably shouldn’t have spent the first half an hour with the bag sans gloves, but you were in such an emotional rage that you didn’t care at the time.

“Damn it Y/N!” Taehyung slapped his hand against the wall next to him, causing you to jump slightly. He looked down at you, his height advantage, although small, making him even more intimidating. His eyes were blazing in anger and annoyance, but upon seeing you flinch they immediately softened. Dropping his hand, he followed your eyes to your knuckles, swearing under his breath. He reached for your hand slowly, but you drew your hands back into your chest.

“Don’t.” You told him softly, still not meeting his eyes as you slowly began to unwrap your fists. The anger he had felt previously now mingled with the feeling of hurt that had blossomed inside of him. First you hadn’t told him about what was obviously a large part of your life, and now you wouldn’t even let him help you.

“Why? What the hell did I do? Huh Y/N? What did I do?” Taehyung fired off his questions at you, his voice rising with each statement. You glared at him eyes blazing.

“You really don’t know?” You asked him, your voice barely a whisper. Although if you listened closely, you would be able to hear the note of sorrow that was buried beneath your words. Taehyung looked at you bewildered.

“If I knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!” He exclaimed, running his hand through his light brown hair in frustration. You looked at the boy in front of you. Even when he was angry he was undeniably beautiful. From his hair to his boxy smile that you adored so much. To the times that the two of you sat on the couch for hours binge-watching Anime. To the times that he had come to tell you all about a date that he went on. He was clueless about how much you cared about him. He had no idea how much it hurt when he ranted and raved about a date, how whenever he talked about how hot a girl was you would look her up on social media and compare yourself. How it felt like a knife in your chest whenever he came home from a date with a huge smile on his face.

“Why did I have to fall in love with an idiot?” You mumbled to yourself, not noticing the way that Taehyung’s shoulders tensed at your words. As soon as you realized that you had said your thoughts out loud your fingers stopped idly unwrapping your wrists and your eyes snapped up to meet his. The two of you stood wide-eyed and frozen for a moment before anyone spoke.

“What did you say?” Tae stuttered, his husky voice wavering in shock. You shook your head rapidly.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t get hurt anymore. I fucking can’t Tae.” You responded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He knew. He fucking knew. Your friendship was over. The two of you stood staring at each other for a moment in silence before Taehyung turned around and walked away. Your eyes glazed over in tears and you sank down to the floor, forgetting about the rawness of your knuckles and your half-undone wraps, drawing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You took shaky breaths as you sat on the gym floor. Your skin was salty with dried sweat and your face was now streaked with tears as your shoulders shook, heaving with each sob.

Without warning, someone gently took your half-unwrapped fist in their hand and continued to unwrap it. At first you assumed it was Lena, but the hands were too large, and far too warm to belong to your friend. Your spine stiffened and you slowly removed your head from its place nestled between your knees. Taehyung was crouched in front of you, gingerly unwrapping your fist, his gaze trained intently on your raw knuckles. As the wrap dropped to the floor, you watched mesmerized as the boy in front of you reached beside him to grab the wet towel he had brought over and sat on the bench, using it to dab softly at the raw skin.

The two of you sat in silence as he cleaned and wrapped your knuckles with a roll of gauze he must have gotten from the front desk. After securing the wrapping on your right fist he brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your hand. You stared at Taehyung, your mouth dropping open slightly. He smiled his boxy smile, the one that you loved so much, at your expression.

“Why did I have to fall in love with an idiot?” He asked you softly glancing down at your now bandaged fists pointedly. You opened and closed your mouth at his words, as Taehyung’s eyes were trained on you.

“I…” You trailed off, “I thought you left.” You admitted pulling your hand up to wipe the streaks of tears from your cheek. Taehyung softly grabbed your hand, moving it to the side before he used his large hand to cup the side of your face, thumb wiping away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry for what I said.” He muttered softly to you as you unconsciously leaned into his palm. You gave him a half smile.

“I’m sorry I blew up at you…” Your voice trailed off as you bit your lip trying to regain control of your emotions. Taking a shaky breath, you looked over Taehyung’s shoulder, focusing your gaze on the one of the punching bags suspended over the gym floor. “Every time you talk about a date, or a girl, it felt like someone was punching me in the chest. I would compare myself every chance I got, trying to understand what was so great about them.” You chucked dryly, shaking your head at yourself, “I know its petty and stupid.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry that I didn’t say anything to you earlier. Fuck, I’m sorry that I didn’t notice how upset you got whenever I talked about a date.” The deep voice of the boy in front of you drew your eyes back to him. He glanced down at your hands shaking his head in disappointment and disgust. “And now you’re hurt because I was a dick and you decided to take out all of your emotions on a punching bag.” You quirked the corner of your lips at his words.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I box.” You said sheepishly. Tae looked at you in disbelief, your eyes widening as he threw back his head and laughed.

“How about we make it up to each other.” He suggested, a soft smile overtaking his features, watching you intently as he spoke, “Over dinner? Tonight?” You bit your lip as you stared at the boy you loved, his smile growing at your answer.

           “It’s a date.”

So this is the first imagine that I’ve ever written and posted somewhere so I hope you all enjoy it. And a huge huge thank you to the talented @texting-bangtanbts for making the awesome texts!

phantomavenger  asked:

Prompt #11 :)

I loved doing this one. Here’s #11: “If I die I’m going to haunt your ass.”

“You’re the worst, like the actual worst!”

Derek huffed beside him, “if you don’t shut up I’ll leave without you.”

Stiles paused, eyes wide and mouth dropped in shock at the threat. He didn’t sense any joke behind it. Instead he went back to his silent freak out as he did his best to ignore the undead groans from the other side of the door.

Zombies. Freaking zombies. As if Beacon Hills couldn’t get any worse. This time if people were bitten they wouldn’t turn into were-somethings. They’d be zombies; rotten, gnarly, undead flesh craving things. Of course Stiles had played his fair share of online games with his friends to fight off creatures, like zombies, but the real thing was much more terrifying. They smelled terrible, their skin looked horrendous especially when it fell off in chunks, and for the love of God the noises were things of nightmares.

Sick pained groans that were hollow and void of any sort of intelligence.

Just hungry.

Very hungry actually since they tried to make him Stilinski a-la-mode about five minutes ago and Derek a Hale sunday.

“This is your plan? Hide in a storage closet?” Stiles asked and flailed just crazily enough to knock over a paint can.

It clattered to the floor with a harsh sound followed by a long silence. Derek’s eyes flashed blue, and gave Stiles level ten of the Hale-Glare-of-Gloom™. From outside the storage room of the old factory the silence gave way to loud hungry moans of the undead, bodies banging against the door. The rusted hinges weren’t going to last if the pileup on the other side grew until the pressure was too much.

“If I die I’m going to haunt your ass,” Stiles muttered as he shuffled backwards until he was flush with the wall, his heart about to beat out of his chest.

“You’re not going to die Stiles,” Derek said.

“I’m so going to die, you’ll probably heal,” he said, his hand ran through his hair but didn’t seem to have its usual calming effect, “oh, God. I’m gonna be a zombie—holy, Derek…you gotta keep my dad away from fast food, alright? His cholesterol is through the roof. Give Scott my comic collection; he’ll keep them safe–”

His panicked ramble was cut off when Derek was suddenly in his space, his hands tight around Stiles’ shoulders. There was this look of…uncertainty in his pale green eyes, and before Stiles knew what happened he was wearing the leather jacket.


“Keep your head down, hang on tight, and whatever happens…run,” Derek said seriously before he hoisted Stiles up onto his back.

Stiles gasped in surprise, his legs automatically locked around Derek’s waist as his arms wrapped around Derek’s shoulders. His mind raced with questions, for example; why the fuck Derek was about to risk his life for him of all people? Seriously there was no rhyme or reason for it, the guy made his dislike for Stiles crystal clear.

The door was kicked open, the hinges flying off and the metal crushed the few zombies right in front of it. There was a split second path and Derek was already running; Stiles let out a small shriek and curled himself tighter against Derek, his head hidden in the crook of Derek’s neck. Hands tried to swipe at him, but the leather and denim he wore made it hard for hands to actually grab and tear into his flesh.

Stiles had no idea how Derek was doing, he had no idea if he was hurt, he had no idea where they were going. At one point Derek jumped, and they free fell for a while before landing. Eventually though they made it to a place where fresh air was all around them and the noises of zombies were gone.

He found it in himself to look up when Derek slowed, they made it out of the old factory, into the back end of the woods.


Well almost, because suddenly Derek collapsed to the ground with Stiles still on him. His knees smacked onto the hard ground violently but he had enough sense to roll off Derek, finally taking a second to see if he was okay.

“Oh my God, dude, Derek!” Stiles gasped and scrambled to his knees to shove Derek on his back and off his wounds.

There were angry tears of skin and muscle, blood oozed out in thick globs, and Stiles was so sure he was about to puke. Derek let out a pained sound and tried to curl in on himself only to fail and fall back.

“You so cannot die! We save each other! We don’t freaking die!” Stiles exclaimed, trying to see if the wounds were healing themselves or not.

Hands cupped his face and pulled him away from Derek’s torso. His eyes met pale ones which were riddled with pain. Stiles hated that; he couldn’t even do the cool werewolf pain drain thing, he could only sit there helplessly. He wasn’t just sitting there though, because now he was bent down with lips on his which were surprisingly soft.

So maybe he totally flailed and maybe he accidently bit Derek’s lip, but he was well within his freak out rights. Derek Hale was kissing him and he hasn’t kissed many people, let alone super attractive people that were so out of his league.

Stiles pulled back, lips still semi-puckered with his brows drawn in, “why did that feel like a goodbye kiss?”

Derek had the audacity to roll his eyes, “not…a goodbye kiss, it was a ‘calm down I’m healing slowly’ kiss.”

“So you’re not dying?!”

“No, I can feel myself healing.”

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Stiles wheezed, leaning back down for another kiss which was probably only a little less clumsy than the first one.

“What kind of kiss was that?” Derek asked softly.

“I think it was a ‘thank god you’re not dead don’t do that to me again you dick’ kiss,” Stiles answered.

“I saved your life. I’d do it again if I had to.”

“Are you getting sentimental on me?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Derek did in fact shut him up.


Paris: Wish Granted (Bill Skarsgård)

Part 2 of 3

Just like everything else that day, Clair de Lune exceeded all expectations. It was by far the nicest restaurant she had ever been to. The lighting was dim enough to appreciate the single flaming candle in the middle of the table. The deep woods that decorated the interior made the whole atmosphere feel sensual and provocative. Then there was the food; nothing like she had ever tasted before.

“This is so good.” She praised, having taken a bite of her Streak Tartare.

He smiled at her from across the table, noticing how breathtaking in her dress and that she seemed to be in high spirits. Nothing made him feel better about himself than knowing he had pleased her. Considering it was her birthday, he was going to make sure he did that and more.

He took a sip of the red wine he had ordered and began on his Salmon en Papillote with Tomato Curry and Beans.

She ate her meal slowly. First, she was focussed on savouring the delicious favours of all the different ingredients. Then, because he became extremely distracting to look at. He wore a black fitted dress shirt, her favourite, and trousers while his brown locks were parted to the left. They say that similar to red, black is one of the most attractive colours someone can wear. That night she realized how accurate that statement truly was.

He watched as she pushed around the remains of the Steak Tartare with her fork. He raised a brow at her.

“Are you feeling alright?” He pressed lightly.

She met his eyes and nodded, attempting to look as nonchalant as possible. She didn’t want him to think she wasn’t enjoying the restaurant, but she did not want him to know that she couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of him settled in between her legs.

The look he gave her was still questioning. He knew her well enough to see right through her. But what he did not yet know was that by holding eye contact with him, it took a lot from her to not bite her lip. He was so good-looking that night.

Reluctantly, he dropped his gaze and went back to his food.

She tugged at the sleeve of her navy blue, boat neck dress that hugged her body tightly, only flowing out a little at the bottom of the long skirt, nervously. Imagining how tauntingly slow he would remove her dress, stocking and lingerie moved her into a dreamlike state. Maybe it would be even nicer if he ripped them off my body.

When he caught her gaze, she crossed her legs subconsciously, clutching them tightly together underneath the wooden table. Seeing her shift in her seat gave him more than enough of idea of what she was doing. It evoked a smirk from him, going unseen by her as she speared another bite of Tartare onto her fork.

After forcing herself to swallow the mixture of steak, vegetables and Worcestershire sauce, she finally casted a look up at him. He was still smirking.

“You’re very worked up. Aren’t you, Darling?” His voice sounded completely normal, as if they were having a simple conversation over the weather rather than each other’s desires.  

She swallowed hard when she saw his dark, passionate expression that contrasted the tone of his voice dramatically. She could not reply, so a bit lip was all he got in response.

“What are you wearing underneath that dress?” He asked lowly.

She clasped her hands together and watched him lean against the back of the leather chair he sat in, peering at her expectantly. If they had not been in this restaurant, he would have lit a cigarette and allowed the smoke to float behind him as he watched her fiddle with her fingers under his intense stare. Yet even without the cigarette, his gaze still held the same sharpness that only made her closer her legs tighter.

“The black set.” She spoke, voice so quiet that only he could hear her.

He nodded in approval, “Good. You look gorgeous in it.”

A soft blush spread over her cheeks. Even after all of the years they had spent together, he never failed to make her feel like the most special person in the world. They way he spoke left nothing to doubt; he meant every word he said.

“Mademoiselle, would you care for more champagne?” A waiter enquired.

She let out a startled gasp and placed a hand over her chest, not having heard him come up behind her.

“My apologies, Mademoiselle.” He said quickly, eyes going wide.

She composed herself automatically, “Nonsense, I’m terribly sorry. Yes, I will have some more.”

He nodded kindly and tipped the pine green bottle to its side, slowly filling her glass back up.

If anyone knew how to get her heart beating even faster in that moment, it was Bill. She felt as if she would pass out when he began to speak to her in Swedish:

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you tonight, Darling?”

Her eyes instantly opened wider and snapped up to the waiter who was pouring the champagne into her glass. He looked perfectly unaffected by what Bill had just wondered of her so casually.

“I am going to go down on you until you beg me to fuck you. You are going to write underneath me and scream my name as you come.” He finished, expressionless.

Thankfully, the waiter tipped the bottle upright and she hurriedly gave him her thanks. When he started off to another table, she turned to Bill with wide eyes.

“Do you want me to do those things to you?” He asked her, still speaking his mother tongue.

“Yes.” She whispered breathlessly.

Her chest was rising and falling at a much more rapid pace than usual, giving him a pleasant view of the top her breasts as they pushed against the fabric she wore. The whole situation was terribly erotic.

He looked at her pointedly.

“Yes.” She tried, stronger this time.

He leaned forward, placed his folded hands on the table and gave her a penetrating stare. She could feel his look deep down in her core. It was a feeling she wanted to welcome, only not in a restaurant where she could hardly relieve it.

“Beg for it.” He demanded.

She reached out and took his large hand in her smaller one, grasping it tightly. The look he gave her was expectant, yet he allowed her to hold his hand, knowing it comforted her.

Swedish was not her native tongue, but she believed she knew enough to give him what he wanted. She took a breath and spoke:

“Yes. I want you to fuck me so hard that I’ll feel you for days. I fucking need you now, Bill.”

That was enough to satisfy him.

He stood, pulled out his leather wallet, fished out a hundred dollar bill, and placed it on the table. The waiter gave him a nod from the other side of the restaurant.

He outstretched a hand to her, which she gladly took, and pulled her out of her seat.

She wanted nothing more than to have him inside of her. All of the endless teasing all day had her frustrated, and wanting him more than ever before. Soon, her wish would be granted.

They strode out of Clair de Lune.

All of the lights in the penthouse suite were off except for the chandelier in the bedroom. It emitted a soft, orange glow which dimly lit the room, along with the cars and streetlights in the bustling city many stories below them.

“Turn around and step out.” He commanded.

She complied, turning her body back to face his and stepped forward, out of the dress that pooled at her heel clothed feet.

He ran his smooth fingers down her cheek, causing her heart to beat erratically. She could become undone just by his touch.

“Can I take you while you wear this?” He requested, fingers trailing down to the thin strap of her bustier.

Although he was touching her, it was not where she truly wanted it. The brushes of the pad of his thumb against her already hot skin only heightened her desire to feel him somewhere else.

“Mhm.” Was all she managed to get out. She was far too distracted by the feeling of his cool fingers against her warm skin.

He tsked her, “Use your words, Darling.”

Oh, did it ever turn her on when he scolded her. They never assigned any sort of roles in their relationship, but as she truly got comfortable with him, he realized that she loved when he was in control. He found that he liked that too.

She peered up at him through her lashes.

“Yes. As long as you don’t rip it.” She cautioned.

His hands slipped down her body until they reached her waist.

“I could always buy you another.” He said simply, lips hovering over her neck.

Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his lips against her pulse point. The feeling of him kissing, biting and sucking had her succumbing to his touch.

“N-No, you… promised.” She reminded him through breathy moans.

He nipped at her neck then sighed, he had promised her that.

“Fine. You win.”

Her eyes opened at his response, lips widening into a mischievous grin as she pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She wondered, batting her lashes innocently.

The game was all about who held the power. He had it for most of the day, purchasing hundreds of dollars of french lingerie, dressing in the clothes he knew drove her mad and telling her he wanted to have her in public. But the power could be stolen in a split second, and she held it over him mercilessly.

“Don’t push it.” He warned her.

His threat seemed idle, a feeble attempt to take back the dominance. She laughed and shifted her weight onto her back leg.

“What are you going to do about it?” She taunted, eyes gleaming. Oh, did she ever love this game.

His intense stare seemed to affect her less now. That was until, of course, he spoke five simple words:

“I won’t let you come.”

There. That was it. He had taken back the power.

“You wouldn’t.” She spoke, yet sounded less sure of herself than she had a moment before.

She shifted in her position.

“I think we both know that I would.” He said, matter-of-factly.

She looked into his eyes to see if he was lying. He was not, and his dominance returned; something that she welcomed gladly.

It was going to be a fantastic evening.

*Tags: @mizz-kraziii  @winter-slays @hahahannah28 @skarsgardtrash @book-wyrm-snacks @lyra-timelord @jasmineladjevardi @diva-skywalker-af @mimiloosblog @capricorn-bliss

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Keith sighed as he walked over to his friends in his new Garrison uniform. They were all laughing and pointing at him.
“Keith Kogane going to college never thought I’d see the day.” Pidge smirked up at him.
“It’s a joke right? I mean no way you won’t pick a fight and get kicked out.” Hunk added.
“No im serious about this. In a changed man.” Keith shrugged as his friends opened their mouth to say something only to stare over his shoulder, mouths hanging open.
Keith glanced to see what was going on.
Then he turned around entirely his mouth now joining the others on the ground. “L-Lance?”
Lance walked over to him taking a long drag of his cigarette.
Keith couldn’t get over how amazing he looked, the red heals making his already long legs look all the better which only helped the sinfully tight leather pants he was wearing, with Keith’s own red jacket draped over his shoulder.
Lance winked at him putting a hand on his hip.
“Tell me about it, stud”

Yeah, Pass The Salt, Stiles

Here’s my latest entry for @sterek-bingo! I’ve never tried writing a soulmate AU before, so this was a ton of fun. Enjoy!

This story was written for the Soulmates square on my BINGO card. (AO3 link here).

Yeah, Pass The Salt, Stiles

Stiles has always maintained that if Scott weren’t quite so slow on the uptake, they could totally be soulmates.

When they were kids, this thought depressed him; now, he has to admit, he’s more relieved than anything else. He loves Scotty to pieces, but jeez, does Allison have to put up with a lot. Besides, although platonic soulmates do exist, very occasionally, Stiles is a romantic at heart, and he definitely, definitely doesn’t see Scott that way.

It happened when they were four years old, and they met at the playgroup both their moms sent them to. They’d been doing that thing kids do when they play alongside each other but not actually together, and as a consequence they’d spent the entire morning together without actually talking. That was enough for Stiles to decide that he wanted Scott as his soulmate.

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  • Staring competitions with each other
  • “Ha, you blinked. I win!”
  • “Lighten up”
  • “Don’t ever call Stiles adorable again”
  • Bear hugs
  • Watching him work out
  • Sarcasm, so much sarcasm
  • “Stop brooding, Sour Wolf” - You
  • Dragging him out of bed in the mornings
  • Actually making him smile
  • Bringing out his soft side
  • Wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist and him carrying you like that
  • Eskimo kisses
  • Mock wrestling
  • Adorableness
  • Cuteness overload 
  • Fixing his car for him
  • Wearing his leather jackets when you’re cold
  • “DEREK!!!”
  • “WHAT?!?”
  •  “Can you kill this spider for me?”
  • Kissing him to make him stop arguing 
  • “You’re still not going!”
  • Neck kisses
  • Falling asleep in his arms
  • Overprotectiveness
  • “No Derek, you’re not going to rip his throat out”
  • Eye rolls from the both of you
  • Him opening up to you
  • Him telling you about his past: About everything
  • Him scowling when people say he’s gone soft or he’s whipped
  • “I like her” - Cora Hale
  • “You guys are absolutely disgusting” - Peter Hale
  • You getting angry when he doesn’t listen to you because he thinks you look hot when you’re angry
  • “You’re adorable when you’re angry at me”
  • “SHUT UP!”
  • More eye rolls 
  • Him putting you first
  • Him putting you before the pack


Tom Hiddleston

Some sort of long forgotten mythical creature that has come to life to destroy us all.

Legend says he charms his victims with his smile and sweet personality so they don’t know he is actually putting a spell on them that will turn them into Hiddlestoners who will then do nothing but look at pictures of him and flail. He also appears to have the power to control women’s reproductive organs, either destroying them completely or sending them into baby-making overdrive. The only plausible reason for any of this is that he does what he wants.

Identifying a Tom Hiddleston:

-Power Stance-ing all over the damn place

-He will probably be wearing an entirely leather outfit.

-If he is sitting, his knees will be about 4 miles apart from each other

-You will hear the call of the ‘ehehehe’

-Constant lip licking

If you spot a Tom Hiddleston just stay calm, offer him some sort of pudding and back away slowly. Then run like you’re in a horror movie. He’ll probably catch you anyways(long legs are all the better to catch you with) but at least you tried.
Girl 1: *sitting in front of a computer staring at a picture of Tom Hiddleston*

Girl 2: Hey… you okay? *pokes girl 1 in the arm*

Girl 3: It’s no use. She watched Thor for the first time last night. She’s been like this since the first scene with Loki in it.

Girl 2: How could you let her watch that! You know what it does to people.

Girl 3: I tried to stop her! She wouldn’t listen to me!

Girl 2: Another friend lost to the Tom Hiddleston.

Girl 3: It was bound to happen eventually.

Girl 2: Oh no… we have to get out of here. I think shes starting up Wallander. *tugs on Girl 3’s arm*

Girl 3: Magnus… Maaaaaaagnuuuuusss…

#hiddles #hiddlestoner #life ruiner #actor #tom

They nailed it!
Past the black where sirens sing

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Siren!Au / Angst / One-shot

Rated T for mentions of blood and mature themes (nothing too heavy tho)

Word count: 3.8k

Synopsis: Two in the morning, during this moonless night, as Yoongi is playing his demons away with slender fingers above the white and black of a piano keys.

And nothing would be different than usual, really, if it wasn’t for the strange girl sitting at his window, claiming to be a siren in love with his music.

Author’s note: for my loved @yoongihime, even tho it’s a couple of days late and she deserves so much more than this <3 

I love you, sweetie ❤

Yoongi doesn’t consider himself a believer. He never fell for the shining lure of myths and tales, nor for the solace of a higher being molding the universe – the hell, he didn’t even believe in the monsters under his bed when he was only a naïve tiny child.

These days some people would call him a cynical man, yet Yoongi knows that this is not really the case, for he simply holds his faith closer to the rational state of his mind rather than to the realm of pointless delirium. If the eyes can’t see it, then why should he presume it real, after all?

Just use the damn brain you had the luck to born with, for God’s sake.

So, Yoongi is well aware that all these people always ready to raise their finger at him and mark him as a crude, cold human being would now be left astonished, if they saw him in his room with a completely unamused expression as he stills his fingers above the piano keys and asks “so, what exactly are you?” to the beautiful, strange girl perched on his windowsill.

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At His Mercy

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Buckle your seatbelts
Rating: Prepare a towel
Written by xoxoTheQueenOfHearts

WARNING: ⚠️PURE DADDY ⚠️ ROUGH DADDY ⚠️ This is not abuse like some people may think, it’s a KINK. ⚠️ DADDY KINK⚠️

Daddy raises his eyebrows, clenches his jaw, and his hands form into fists for a brief moment. This doesn’t look good for you at all. There is no way for you to escape Daddy’s wrath now. The guy that you were with suddenly pokes his head up and sees Jungkook glaring at him. He jumps up and raises his hands as if he’s surrendering. He scrambles around looking for his clothes. Jungkook smirks looking amused for moment at the reaction he provokes.

The guy dashes out the door and Jungkook follows him to close and lock the door behind him. You still sitting on the floor, topless and now wearing a cum stained skirt afraid if you try to stand that your legs will buckle underneath you. You felt paralyzed.

Jungkook turns around to face you and stares at you intently. He stalks over to the living room taking off his business shirt and stands before you.

Jungkook towers over you as you hear that familiar sound of his belt buckle being undone. You look down at the carpet. You know what is going to happen and you also know you deserve whatever punishment Daddy is going to give you.

You hear the leather slide through his pant loops as you sneak a peek up at him. He doubles the belt and makes a snapping sound with it. You jump at the sound with your heart racing and scoot back away from him.

“Stand up.” Daddy whispers deadly. Instead of standing up you scoot back again.

“I said stand up! Don’t make me say it again, princess!” He threatens. You slowly and carefully rose to a stance trembling. Jungkook takes a step forward and you take a step back. You hear him sigh exasperated.

“Princess, don’t make this any harder than it already is. Now I want you to stand behind the couch and bend over. Do it quickly!” Jungkook commands.

You drag yourself behind the couch and bend over. Your face falls in the cushions. Your feet can barely touch the ground except for the tip of your toes. All you can think about as You lean over the couch is; “Why did I let my sweet Daddy down? How did I let it get this far?”

It all started a couple of days ago when the two of you got into an argument over the phone. Jungkook had promised you that the two of you were going to go on a retreat for a week.

Of course, something came up at his office and he had to go fix it. So, instead of going on the retreat to spend much needed time alone with him, he went on another business trip. This isn’t the first time he has had to cancel. You really needed this retreat to spend time with your Daddy. But the conversation escalated and you hung up on him but not before You told him to “Fuck off!”

You had never talked to him like that before. He tried calling you back immediately but you let it go to voice mail. He then tried to text you and you wouldn’t answer any of them. You felt like You weren’t important to Him. That he didn’t have time for you so why should You make time for him? Plus, You also knew he would be angry because of the way You spoke to him.

You needed to blow off some steam so You went out with your girlfriends. You all had dinner at a nice restaurant than went to a popular club. The club is where You met that cute guy. You had no idea that you would hit off so well or things would go as far as they did. It started with an innocent kiss and before You knew it, you were in your living room.

You didn’t plan on Jungkook coming home until the end of the week. Of course, You didn’t plan on having that encounter in your shared living room either. He must have guessed his little girl would have gotten herself into trouble and came home early. Now you’re in a lot more trouble than cursing with him on the phone. Jungkook lifts your skirt folding it over to rub your bare behind.

“I think you know why you’re being punished but just in case you don’t it’s for being a: VERY. DISRESPECTFUL. NAUGHTY. LITTLE. SLUT!!” He angrily announces as he spanks your ass hard with his hand emphasizing each word.

“Daddy pleeeaaasseee, I’m soorr….” You start to say but he interrupts.

“I know you are princess and trust me you will be!” He states calmly.

“Daaaddy!” You begin again but you’re interrupted again.

“I will not allow MY princess to act like a disrespectful little slut. Now stay still!” he commands.

You know you deserve His wrath but you was terrified too. How bad was this going to hurt?

You soon found out after You heard the first swoosh of his belt. His belt lands with a loud crack on your ass.


You yelp as He swings his belt again. He’s relentless with each strike harder than the other. You scream into the couch cushions. You have tears streaming down wetting your face. He has never swung his belt with such quickness or harshness before. Then again You have never disobeyed or disrespected Him as badly before either.

Why did you disrespect him by telling him to fuck off and then hanging up on him? Why didn’t you answer any of his attempts when he tried to contact you? And the biggest question, why did you have to mess around with that guy? You really disobeyed your daddy when you made that guy cum but what was even worse is you allowed him to eat your pussy; correction Your daddy’s pussy.

You deserve to feel every ounce of your Daddy’s fury. You wish you hadn’t let him down like You have. You can still see the rage and the disappointment in his eyes. You are so ashamed of your behavior. You never wanted to hurt your sweet Daddy like You have or disappointed him but You were feeling neglected and unloved.

How very wrong You were to act out like this but you thought it could have been your little secret. It could have been your way of getting back at Daddy for breaking his promise to you.

What were you thinking? You also knew that eventually you would have felt guilty and told him the truth. You can’t keep anything from him no matter how difficult the truth may be.

He ceased his spanking for a moment and rubs your sore behind feeling the heat off your inflamed ass. You put your feet flat on the ground to give yourself a break from balancing but stay bent over the top of the couch.

You turn your head towards Jungkook and he frowns down at you. He gently moves your hair out of your eyes and wipes tears from your face. You stare back at him through your tears and he looks back at you somberly. His forehead was moist with sweat from spanking you with such fierceness.

He continues rubbing your behind using soft strokes. You embrace His touch on your flesh even though your skin stings. That familiar tingling feeling has awakened between your legs and You knew that only Jungkook’s cock can satisfy it. You peek at him and see in his eyes that he isn’t quite ready to forgive you yet or to give you any kind of satisfaction.

There is still a hint of anger in his dark beautiful eyes. You were already on thin ice. You didn’t want to push the issue but that is why you were so surprised by what you did.

You straightened myself up in a standing position, looking Jungkook in the eyes before giving him one of your devious smiles. He looks back at you puzzled. You smirk at him again and before he can say anything you run into the other room.

Jungkook just stands there by the couch dumbfounded. You can tell by his reaction that he cannot believe what you did. You can’t believe what You did either.

Jungkook finally recovers from the shock and smiles at you dangerously. However, he does have a hint of amusement in his eyes. He slowly walks around the couch and over to the dining room to where you were.

“Oh, aren’t we just full of surprises tonight.” He states amused.

You can’t help but grin seeing the amusement in his eyes but you also know it’s very foolish on your part as well.

“So princess, what do you think you can accomplish with this little stunt?” he whispers.

“I..um…I…I don’t know. I just um wanted to talk to you for a minute.” You stammer.

“About what princess? If you think you can talk your way out of your punishment you’re sadly mistaken. You were very naughty girl and you need to respect my rules.” Jungkook states sternly as you begin circling one another around the dining room table.

He leaped and was almost able to grab you but he missed. You ran through the kitchen to the breakfast table. He slowly enters in the kitchen giving you a wicked grin. You ran behind the breakfast table.

“Daddy…I..um…I…understand that that I um need to be punished. It’s just…it’s just that you seem so angry. I….um never seen you like this before. You have to know that I um didn’t mean to upset you this badly.” You state sincerely.

“Princess, how can you think that your actions wouldn’t upset me? You know the rules. You know how I feel about you keeping your manners especially, when you’re talking to me. You also know how I feel about you making another guy cum and you REALLY know how I feel about MY PUSSY!”

He stresses the last two words loudly. You can’t answer him because everything he says is true. You know exactly how he feels about everything he mentioned. Like you have said before, there is really no way you can talk your way out of this. At least, you were able to stall and give my behind a break.

“Princess, if you come over to me now I won’t punish you for running away from me!” You heard him say truthfully. You can tell Jungkook is being reasonable but you also knew he was still angry. If you could only get him to calm down a little more before the two of can continue with your punishment and then you would feel better.

“No Daddy, I can’t go with you willingly until I know you’re calmer.” You whisper barely audible.

“Excuse me? I hope I didn’t hear what I thought I heard.” Jungkook states exasperated.

“I didn’t stutter Daddy, you heard me correctly.” You stated bravely. Jungkook looks at you in utter disbelief then smiles at you menancely.

“Oh princess, this really isn’t going to end well for you” he threatens.

You gulp and feel your stomach turn a back flip. You escape out of the breakfast room and ran back into the living room.

Jungkook and you play cat and mouse alternating rooms and each time he gets closer and closer to catching you. your hiding against a wall and peek around the corner. You can’t see him anywhere.

Where in the hell did he go?

You think if you can make it the bedroom You can lock the door and be safe. Then Jungkook can cool off some and you can get some rest. Then the two of you will be able to talk about what happened in the morning. You peer around the other corner and didn’t see him. You glance down the hall towards the bedroom. You only had thirty feet or less to run you pondered. You peer behind you before you make a dash for it.


You slam hard into a solid object.

The wind is almost knocked out of you from running into the object. You were trying to catch your breath when you realize that the hard object was Jungkook. He reached around you grabbing you by the waist and throwing you over his shoulder. You scream and he slaps your already sore behind hard. He marches down the hallway to your shared bedroom not saying a word.

He pushes you down to the foot of your bed as he seizes each of your wrists tying them to opposite sides of the bed. Then takes one of your ankles spreading your legs apart and ties it to one of the bed posts and ties your other ankle to the other post. You can’t move anything but your head. You are completely at Daddy’s mercy.

The both of you were catching your breath from running around the house and having shots of adrenaline shooting through your veins. He smacks you with his belt again using the same rhythm as he did before. He grips a fistful of your hair yanking your head back to look in your eyes as he continues to spank you.

“I need to know something princess” he menancely whispers in your ear, “Who does this pussy belong too?” He asks while swinging his belt. You try to answer but your voice catches because you were sobbing.

“WHO!” he yells jerking your head back.

“You do Daddy!” You yell.

“Then why did I see another man in it? WHY!” He demands as he snaps his belt hard on your ass at the last word.

“I..I.don’t know. It was um it was a mistake. Please Daddy, I’m so sorry. It was a mistake!” You beg.

“You bet your ass it was mistake! One that will NEVER happen again, am I right?” He asks as he rips off your thong making you howl.

“It will never happen again, Daddy! Please Daddy, I’m so sorry!” You plead.

Jungkook takes a few steps back and you feel his leather strike your pubic lips. He swings repeatedly striking your core’s lips and reaching your clit. Your pussy stings and is becoming swollen but at the same time, you were becoming wet, very wet.

Why is your body betraying you like this? Jungkook drops his belt, reaching his hand between your legs and begins working your now swollen pubic lips.

“Feel this? You feel how wet you are? You are a naughty little slut aren’t you?” Jungkook whispers.

He rubs his hard cock against your ass and in between your legs. A moan escapes from your lips and he lets out a low growl. Your pussy is soaked and you can feel your juices drip onto his cock.

You feel yourself pushing back towards him begging him to enter you. Even though your pussy and ass sting from the fierce spanking Jungkook gave you, you need to be fucked by him so badly. Jungkook holds his cock and slowly enters into you. You mewl and he moans. He slams his cock into you deep, bottoming out making you cry out.

He hammers his hard thick cock in your wet swollen core drilling you hard. He grips your hair as he continues pumping into you as he stares intently into your eyes. The head board was thumping against the wall with each powerful thrust. You feel his breath on your neck as he nibbles on your ear then kisses you hard on the lips.

“You like it when Daddy fucks you this hard don’t you my naughty little slut?” You gasp in response as he emphasizes each word with a fierce thrust.

“That’s right, your Daddy’s slut aren’t you? Answer me!” He demands. He yanks your head back more as if he was trying to shake an answer from you.

“Yyyess Daddy, I am your slut only yours!” You say breathlessly.

“That’s right princess, only me. This is my pussy, don’t you ever forget that!” he growls in your ear. You can only nod as you feel your core muscles contract. He can also feel your core walls milk his cock. He knew you were going to cum soon. He keeps pounding into you without remorse.

“Give to me princess, cum for Daddy!” He demands in a low guttural tone.

You came as Jungkook orders you too soaking his cock and balls like a wave from an ocean. You hear him groan in pleasure as you begin to tremble feeling the aftermath of your delicious orgasm. You knew he was close to cumming as well and you waited for him to fill you up with his seed but he had other ideas.

He pulls his dick out and climbs over your resting body. He gets on the bed and kneels in front of your face. He pulls your head up using your hair and forces his pussy-soaked cock into your mouth. As he holds onto your hair with both of his hands, he fucks your mouth. You feel his cock gliding leisurely back in forth in your wet warm mouth.

Jungkook lets out a deep groan as he picks up speed. You can feel the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag a few times but that doesn’t stop him. He continues to pummel your mouth with his cock until you get used to him in your throat. He sometimes holds your head up to his abdomen with his cock wedging it deeply in your throat cutting off your air supply. He knows how you feel about that.

How paranoid you get about not being able to breathe. He isn’t showing that he cares because each time he holds you there longer and longer. You can hear him groan or growl each time as tears drip from your eyes.

Your hands and legs are tied down so you can’t fight him. The only thing you can do is fully submit to him. He is in complete control. He holds you in place again longer than any other time and you begin to struggle. Yet, you hear him growl, “This is my mouth! It belongs to me! I better never find it on some other guy’s cock, is that clear?”

He releases you as you gasp for air. He jerks your head up using your hair to stare into your eyes. You nodded to respond to his question and he continues thrusting is cock in your mouth. You have tears streaming down your face and you feel him wipe away your tears with his fingers.

You can taste pre-cum from Jungkook’s cock and you knew he was going to cum soon. You were surprised it’s taking him this long. He rams his cock hard in your mouth one more time then holds you still as you felt his hot fluid slide down your throat. He uses one of his hands to stroke his cock to make sure you receive every last drop.

“That’s my good girl, swallow it all!” Jungkook grunts. When he was sure every drop sank down your throat he releases your hair. You take a deep breath, pant softly and as you lay your head on the bed. He wipes away any remaining tears and hair that is on your face. Your ass still stings from the spankings and your pussy stings from the spankings and the brutal fucking Daddy had given you. Your mouth is sore from daddy using it roughly and your exhausted.

First Time

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The Reader and Dean meet at a bar and have a moment.

Word Count: 816

Warnings: Suggestive Content, just good fun :)

Author’s Note: Heyy guys! This is my entry for @jalove-wecallhimdean‘s “Do it Like Dean” challenge. I got the prompt: “You can call me Dean.” I hope you guys like it! Feedback is always welcomed!!

There was a first time for everything, right?

At least that’s what I told myself as I walked around the pool table, my eyes transfixed on a pair of green ones. Usually, I wasn’t one to just go for it after a couple of hours of knowing the person, but after a few drinks and a lot of sexual tension while playing pool, I threw all logic out the window.

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where's my love || dylan o'brien (part one)

word count: 4152

warnings: angst

prompt: none

author’s note: hey everyone! this is the first part of a series that i have decided to start! i’m really excited to write this. special thank you to hayley @sarcasticallystilinski, for reading through this and giving it a huge support! other than that, i hope you all really like this! love you all! 


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it just feels Good and Right to wear black and look like a scruffy nu goth punk. like does anyone else ever get that feeling, when you put together an outfit you Love and your makeup comes out blended and right and you see yourself and it just feels like You. like when i’m wearing chipped black nail polish, or black lipstick, or my killstar leggings with the sigils on them, or a leather jacket. it just hits the spot. like seeing a frog on a lily pad. like yea this is what youre supposed to do. congratulations 

*Tease* (Final Chapter!!)

Okay guys.
This chapter is hella long. Almost 5000 words. And so NSFW holy cow. And HILARIOUS. I totally laughed writing these first few parts! And then so NSFW and then super feely because these boys are just dummies in love. And then funny again.

So I hope you enjoy it :) Shout out to my 1000+ followers, everything I write is for you guys! Love my readers!!



“So tell me about it.” Natasha insisted, sprawling across Tony’s bed and watching him hang clothes in his closet.

“Nat, you don’t want to hear about our night.”

“Oh no I totally do.” She grinned wickedly. “Especially since you’re still walking funny. The garter belt and nylon thing worked out?”

“You could say that.” Tony sent a pointed glance towards his bedside trash can, where an empty bottle of lube sat on a pile of sheer stockings and a torn garter belt.

“Damn.” Natasha dragged the word out, whistling appreciatively. “They tore it?”

Of course they tore it!” Tony snapped, crossing his arms irritably. “Every damn thing I’ve worn they have either torn in half or ruined completely!”

“Well.” Tasha shrugged and took a bite out of her carton of Chinese food. “You said you didn’t want them to be gentle, right? I would think working them up to the point of tearing your lingerie would be a good thing?”

“Lingerie is expensive!”

“Yeah, I know, Tony. I was there when you bought it.”

“No, you watched as I bought my own and your lingerie. I spent almost a thousand dollars that day.”

“And…” she raised an eyebrow and Tony blushed bright red.

“And consequently have had some of the best sex of my life these last two weeks.”

“So you actually don’t have any complaints.”

“Damn it.” Tony groaned. “No, I really don’t have any complaints.”

“So are you wearing something else tonight? By the way you’re walking I’d assume you’d take a night off.”

“Oh.” Tony shook his head with a secret little smile. “I’m not walking funny because of that. I mean, yeah the garter belt incident was good but that’s not why I’m–” he just shook his head again.

“Then why?” Tasha asked suspiciously, then her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open. “Tony are you planning something wicked?”

“Sort of.” He hedged and she started laughing, scrambling over the bed to get closer to him.

“How big?” She demanded and Tony bit his lip before making a fist.

“Sort of… this?”

“Oh my god!” Natasha nearly screamed. “You are a whore! I was definitely not there when you bought that!”

“Yeah well.” Tony finished hanging his clothes and grinned. “It’s amazing what you can order online.”

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Girls night out


Request : “Okay so hi I read the prompt list and I tried to make it as fun as possible, and i really think 1 and 57 should be fun, also with tom xx thank you!!“ @princesskink

»  “Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!”

»  “The skirt is supposed to be this short.”

Characters : Tom Holland x reader

Word count : ~1250

A/N : Well, I hope this one isn’t too bad, I find it… Weird ? My first Tom x reader, literally not his cutest moments. Hope you’ll like it anyways fam.

“No, Tom, you can’t come with us. I told you, it’s girls night.”

You were getting prepared in the bathroom for the night, trying to do some fancy bright makeup with diverse vivid colors as pink and orange, adding some glitters here and there, also in your hair cause you thought it looked really cute and original. You loved sparkles, you loved those days you were confident enough to wear so many colours and be noticeable.

Tom didn’t like the idea of you going in the city with girls only, he knew how boys could be and he was scared something would happen to you. When you told him you’d went to a club, he started freaking out, and you argued all days since.

“Stay with me, stay home, let’s Netflix and chill.” You laughed at the idea of Tom trying to convince you to stay with sex. Actually, the offer was tempting, but you were too excited and you promised your friends you’d come. You’ve talked about this for weeks and you all had trouble finding a day everyone was free. “We barely see each others with my schedule, do this for me.” His arms wrapped your hips and you felt a kiss on your neck. “I need you here.”

“Nope” You responded, focused on putting your mascara on. “I won’t come back after 6 am, I promised you that and that’s all I can do for you tonight.” Tom’s hands went up your chest to grab your boobs and you jumped by surprise, causing the mascara brush to be in contact with your skin while you wanted it on your lashes. “Fuck, Tom !” You shouted, sending your elbow back to hit your boyfriend’s chest. He sighed and stepped back until his back stroke a wall. “I don’t have the time to make mistakes, I’m already late ! Stop being selfish, you go out without me, why couldn’t I ?”

“It’s different, Y/N. I’m a man ! I don’t risk my life when I go to the club, unlike you. People could drug you and rape you, I don’t know there are just SO many things that could happen.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to drug myself like a big girl.” You whispered.

“You what ?!” Tom couldn’t really believe what you just said. Since when were you into drugs ? He disliked the idea, like, really. In his head, drugs were such a bad thing and he didn’t want you to become addict or anything else, drugs could make you do things you’d regret also. He clenched his fists. “Okay that’s it Y/N you’re really not going now !” He grabbed your hips, his nose frowned, and pulled you to the bedroom where he pushed you on the bed.

“What are you doing ?! Tom, seriously, stop. I’m not…” You sighed, Tom pressed your wrists in his fists each side of your head while he was on top of you, your lips almost touching. “It’s just weed, I always take some when I go out okay ? I’m not taking ecstasy or I don’t know what else. We smoked some together once or twice ! I’m not out of mind, I know what I’m doing, fuck I’m 19. Why you acting like this, seriously?”

“I wanted a calm night with just the both of us, and I discover that you prefer going to the club and do drugs. How do you fucking want me to react, Y/N ? And besides, what about all the assholes you’ll meet and who’ll want you ? I don’t want them to think you’re single.”

You suddenly giggled, knowing he was more worried about the strangers than your own behaviour. “But you’re the only one I want.” You kissed him deeply, loving his moments of jealousy. “Okay baby boy, will you calm down and let me now ? I need to finish my makeup you just ruined.”

Tom finally let you after stealing you another kiss, but he was still mad and pouted. You went back to the bathroom to be on fleek, shinning as ever. The next step was to choose your outfits, and you wanted a sexy but not too revealing one. You thought about a leather leggings at first, but you weren’t in the mood to wear a pants. It would be either a dress or a skirt. 20 minutes after your first fitting, you still haven’t found what to wear and Tom was back in the room to watch you, complimenting you on every new outfit but even more when you were in lingerie. You had tried on a pink pencil dress, but no, a stretched black leather, but still no. And so, so, so many other dresses. Tom was even surprised you had so many, but he was the one offering them to you. It’s another 20 minutes later you finally found the perfect outfit for the night. A short high-waist black leather skirt, with a black lace crop top. You were admiring yourself in the mirror, thinking for a rare time you were beautiful with all your glitters on your hair and face and this sexy outifit until a voice got you stop.

“Y/N ?”

You sighed. What did he want this time ? “Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!” You bent down to grab your heels and sat on the bed to put them on. But silence remained and you found this weird, you turned your head towards him just to directly meet his eyes. He seemed embarrassed, as if he didn’t want to bother you again to finish it by arguing.

“Hm.. Is… Is the skirt supposed to be this short ?” You groaned. Was he serious ? You couldn’t do anything tonight without him finding his way to upset you.

The skirt is supposed to be this short. Yes. Now if you would excuse me darling, the girls are waiting for me just so we can show the world our pussy and bang strangers after taking ecstasy. I’ll come back during the night, can’t promise you I’ll be back alone of course, I might want a final round fucking a last stranger in the bed while you’re sleeping.” You said all sarcastically. You were just really mad at him for treating you like a child. Ok, he was your boyfriend, but you were still free, and you could do whatever you wanted to do. You never understood these girls accepting everything their boyfriend would ask them, everyone owed their body. You stood up, took your bag and stepped to the door of the apartment.

“Wait !” Tom ran to you, and pushed you to a wall, blocking you between it and him. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself.” You sighed and nodded. He was so annoying with that, even if it was also cute he wanted all good for you. “Promise me you’ll send me texts like… Every hour, I don-”

“I don’t need to promise that babe, I’ll miss you, I’ll send you texts all night long even when you’ll be sleeping.”

He didn’t responded at first, focused on your eyes. “Fuck Y/N, I love you.” You took his head in your hands and pressed your lips against his for a hot deep kiss, his hands coming to your butt to press it. But you had to let his lips go.

“I need to go. I love you Thomas.”

The guy stole you one last kiss before you opened the door and left for your night out.

key in college
  • double major in architecture and classical studies
  • only writes in drafting lead pencils 
  • they’re heavy and now if he writes with anything else (like pens) it’s WEIRD that they’re so light and his handwriting gets a bit wonky so he’s like nah and switches back 
  • oscillates wildly between super crazy outfits and comfy sweats 
  • but honestly his sweats are still fashion af with like leather pocket detailing or paisley patterns up the leg 
  • it’s v hard to miss him on campus and when he walks next to onew the fashion discrepancy is so. real.
  • also people stare but he looks good and he’s going to wear what he wants~~
  • motto: it’ll take the same amount of time to get ready if he dresses trendy or not so he might as well???  
  • always willing to let friends borrow clothes and takes great pride that their wardrobes have gotten better just by associating with him 
  • he’s been featured in the uni catalog multiple times and he and his mom both save them and he looks really good in them: either candidly laughing with ot4 or just walking around with glasses looking scholarly af
  • packs his lunch from home every day even if he has to run around the kitchen with his toothbrush in his mouth while he fries eggs and preps salad
  • on every monday literally does not understand where the weekend went
  • stops at the cafe every morning to “buy” americanos (make jong’s life miserable) so that he could actually wake up  
  • he actually did work at the cafe with onew and jong for a little bit but quit bc he hated it 
  • will sometimes walk behind the counter and get himself coffee when it’s their shifts (jong: *advances threateningly with a broom*) and walks away triumphantly, coffee in hand 
  • they found it much easier to just hand him coffee before he starts an incident (onew: you’re srsly going to go to uni jail or something / key: *takes a sip* no such thing) 
  • also literally the only reason why he started drinking black coffee was bc people take forever around the creamers/milk and kim kibum does not have enough time to wait around for them to stop moving at sloth’s pace 
  • always carries around a tube for his sketches that he slings around his shoulder 
  • it’s also good for smacking people with (mostly used on minho when he gives him that slow up down like water you wearing / key: you have NO right to judge choi) 
  • but otherwise he takes care of that thing like it’s his own child and he calls all of his sketches his babies 
  • and as much coffee he drinks he makes sure that there are never any coffee rings on the draft paper 
  • taemin’s not allowed to sit at the same table as him when he’s sketching bc of that one time he spilled some of his hot chocolate and key almost died 
  • it’s super cool to watch him draw bc he gets really focused with his ruler and he just clearly has such a vision that just comes to life on the paper 
  • also takes the time to draw trees and little people around the structure (taemin: is that us / key: yeah i draw all of us in all my sketches) 
  • as much as he loves the creative parts of architecture he’s also really interested in the mechanics behind what it takes to BUILD a building and have it be structurally sound
  • tbh he thought he would absolutely hate physics but it just kinda makes sense?? it’s the order of the world and he appreciates that there are certain absolutes 
  • when he goes out with his friends he’s always pointing out what influences each building has and basically geeks out about the buttresses and sidings and stuff!!!! which his classical studies major definitely gave him a deeper appreciation for 
  • when it’s too cold for too long he gets restless af bc he’s more of a spring/summer person
  • so as soon as it hits ~22°C he’s out on the quad with his huge reflective sunglasses spread out on a blanket 
  • jong brings his speaker out and plays music and they attempt to do homework but they’re honestly just rolling around playing games on their phones 
  • RIDICULOUSLY good at candy crush 
  • srsly he plays so often he finishes all the levels and has to wait until the next update for the next level like is there some elite scoreboard for that bc he would definitely be on it???
Blind Date

Author: RuckyStarnes

Summary:   Reader has struck out on five blind dates, and it looks like number six is unlucky as well

Warnings:  None?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader; Steve Rogers x OFC

Words: 3,220

Originally posted by thespoilerwitchblog

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Sunny Days-chapter 15

Sunny Days Masterlist

Summary- Sunny thinks about her life at the Sanctuary and comes to a decision.

Warnings- little bit of angst, fluff, and smut.

Word Count- 3.2k

Author’s Note- This should have been a lot longer but I decided to cut the chapter in half to make it more manageable for me. Editing anything over 4k in daunting for me. And this way, you get it faster. Tag list will be at the bottom.

As always, please reblog and/or leave a comment if you like it. Thanks!

Originally posted by luke-vaughn

One week. Seven whole days. Sunny had been good as long as she could. Movies, books, nothing could hold her attention. She was going insane as she began to pace the room.

Her entire existence was now tied to Negan. Her life only had meaning when he was present and that was only a few hours in the evening most days. She could feel herself slip into the familiar cycle of boredom and loneliness every time he walked out the door after breakfast, her heart sinking as she watched him. Desolate and despondent she waited for him to return, like a puppy waiting for his boy to get home from school.

Ugh. I’m so bored. You thought being a princess sounded pretty good two weeks ago. Well, yeah….I just didn’t know I was going to be the one locked in a tower. Now I’m begging for a chance to be Cinderella or Snow White. I would totally take some dwarves to clean up after and civilize. Or some woodland creatures. Maybe just a puppy. Do those even still exist? Oh my god, I may never see a puppy again in my life time. No more cat videos either. Damnit.

Sunny had been raised to be productive. There had always been work to do at home, but here she had nothing. Nothing to do. Nothing to keep her mind occupied. Nothing to challenge her. Nothing but Negan. She hated feeling lazy and dependent.

She slowly opened the door and peeked out, tip toeing into Negan’s office which was once again open to her. She still hadn’t managed to earn back her clothes. She’d grown accustomed to her own nudity in the last week. She had to admit that she loved the feel of her skin against Negan’s rough pants and leather jacket as she wrapped herself around him when he came home in the evenings. But she needed something to touch her. Something of his. She grabbed one of his white shirts from his closet and pulled it over her head. She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent giving her a sense of calm in her mind and arousal in her body. How did he manage to have such an effect on her when he wasn’t even here? She had managed to be alone for 2 years without cracking up. Why was this so different?

Her mind started wandering towards Negan’s declaration from the night she ran. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to say it back yet, not knowing if it were true. Thankfully, he hadn’t repeated those sentiments. She should love him, right? He was her husband. Did she love him? Did he really love her? Their relationship looked nothing like her parent’s or any of the adults she had met. But that didn’t necessarily mean theirs was wrong. Did it?

Sunny shook her head, trying to clear the invasive thoughts from her mind. She’d dwelled on it too often this week. She needed a break from her thoughts. She needed someone to talk to. Someone who wasn’t involved and able to smooth talk her or fuck her into complacency. She needed friends.

Keep reading

date night || stiles stilinski

word count: 747

warnings: lovable stiles

prompt: none

author’s note: short, but cute! this may seem familiar because it’s been posted before, but my blog was deleted so i’m reposting it!

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thirteen-cypher  asked:

In lieu of your recent post with Jon wearing the original Robin suit, I wonder if we will get a short tale of said event.

Yeah, I kinda had that idea in my head for a while :p I’m surprised the comics themselves haven’t toyed with this concept already lol.

“This feels…snug,” Jon remarked. His fingers tugged at the strap of his new uniform’s bottom half. He winced at how little there was he could tug.

“Should I take that as an expression of comfort?” Damian asked smugly. He scrutinized Jon in the outfit, from his messy, dark-haired head, down to his bare legs and green pointed shoes.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Jon said grumpily. He heaved an irritated sigh as he stared at himself in the mirror once more.

After a disastrous bet, Jon found himself wearing Dick Grayson’s first Robin costume. The legendary uniform looked as dated as it was drafty between the legs. Jon’s eyes were masked by a visor, which had the sole ability to switch to night vision. His smart phone had dozens more filters than this, he thought glumly. On his shoulders rested a bright yellow cape—and while Damian swore it was fireproof, it wasn’t bulletproof, or anything-else-proof, and couldn’t even glide. The button-down top was firehouse red with short green sleeves, and while it seemed to be padded and armored somewhat, it was definitely not designed for comfort—Jon could already feel his armpits chafing. The shoes did not improve his opinion of the getup. At first glance, Jon had mistaken them for elf shoes. And despite Damian’s insistence that they were designed for agility, Jon still thought they were elf shoes.

Then of course, there were the briefs. They were not pants, or shorts, or even tights—there was really no other word for it other than ‘briefs’. Green and covered with a scale-like mesh, it was probably the main part of the costume that made Jon want to shout out one big giant ‘NOPE!’

“How can I even fight with these?” Jon asked incredulously as he twisted his waist.

“Nothing beats the classics,” Damian said with a smirk, as if that was enough of an explanation. “Besides, those green underpants are actually the most armored part of the uniform. They even protect your decency by hiding the outline of your scrawny behind.” Damian punctuated the sentence by nonchalantly slapping Jon’s rear.


“Ow! Hey!” Jon snapped indignantly. The briefs didn’t do much to protect Jon’s dignity.

“Grayson was just twelve years old when he wore that costume,” Damian continued. “He was already a prodigious acrobat, and his uniform was tailored to take advantage of that. The costume gave him maneuverability. Perhaps literally wearing his shoes will teach you to respect his skill.”

“Hey,” Jon chided. “I like Dick!—“

Damian snorted trying to stifle a laugh, causing Jon’s cheeks to flush.

“I mean I don’t need to wear his…briefs…to respect him because I already do!”

Damian waved him off and began walking away. “What I meant was that you should appreciate how skilled he was being able to assist my father despite wearing something like that. Also, you lost a bet, so you have no choice. Now, let’s ride!”


Jon made a mental list of all the things he hated doing wearing Dick Grayson’s costume.

First, there was riding Damian’s Robin Cycle. The feeling of his legs’ bare skin rubbing against the motor bike’s leather seat was uncomfortable enough, but the cool wind felt like it was cutting up his exposed limbs with tiny icy daggers. The draft crept up through his sleeves and leg holes, and the entire experience just made him thoroughly miserable.

Then, there were the bystanders. Everyone who saw him asked why he was wearing a Halloween costume in August. It pained Jon that, to these people, Dick’s uniform was already so iconic that it’s been relegated to party costume status. Even more than that, he felt like everyone saw him as even more of a little kid—which he technically was—but the costume made him feel a little less confident to talk to people. They also kept asking him if he was cold wearing it. With a smile and gritted teeth, he always replied, ‘yes, yes he was’.

He also couldn’t fly. He had no doubt that a flying boy wearing the classic Robin uniform would raise more than a few eyebrows. They’d start to ask some pretty awkward questions. Things like, ‘Since when did Robin fly?’, or, ‘Is that a new hero copying Robin?’, and even worse, ‘Is that Superboy wearing Robin’s underwear?’ If there was one thing Jon was grateful for, it was the mask, because at least some part of the costume protected his privacy—and all the times his eyes would twitch whenever cruel-looking teenagers would tease him for wearing green diapers.

Ironically enough, he was most embarrassed around criminals. Them laughing at him was actually the least embarrassing thing that’s happened. Damian mockingly complimented him for distracting the bad guys—which was totally not what he’d intended. More than a few thugs had called him ‘legs’—those guys ended up just a little more bruised than usual. Damian had said something along the lines of “It’s perfectly fine to be complimented on your shapely legs.” Jon was pretty sure that Damian hadn’t meant that as a compliment at all.

The most mortifying experience Jon had were with the bank robbers.

About half a dozen armed men with ski masks had decided to rob a local branch of the Metropolis Bank. Damian and Jon were on the scene, preparing to strike. Before they leapt up from the shadows, Damian had suggested they loudly announce their presence to unnerve the criminals. At the time, this sounded good to Jon. Of course, he’d assumed that Robin would be with him.

“Stop right there!” Jon bellowed. He stepped out of the shadows and onto the light, his short yellow cape billowing in the breeze. It took all of his willpower to stop his bare legs from shivering.

His appearance seemed to have had the intended effect—the three men loading bags of cash on a truck stopped abruptly to stare at him. The driver and two other lookouts came over to stare at him too. Despite their masks, their expressions were very obvious.

They were absolutely baffled.

“That’s right!” Jon declared. “You better stand down or my partner and I…” Jon glanced to his side and his voice died in his throat. Damian wasn’t beside him anymore. He was alone. He suddenly became very conscious of himself, and he tugged at the hem of his cape to cover his legs from the light.

Two of the thugs scratched their heads. One of them had his mouth open.

“Uh, I…I’m sorry I don’t know how to react to this,” said one of the robbers. He shook his head.

“Is that a kid in panties?” asked one of the men in confusion.

“What’s a cute little girl like you doing here?” asked the driver.

“I’m a boy!” Jon squeaked. His face flushed crimson.

“Oh geez, sorry. Well…shit, this is awkward,” the driver replied with utmost sincerity.

“Damn, boss, why’d you have to tease him? The little guy looks just about ready to cry,” one of the burlier men said. It annoyed Jon that the man sounded genuinely reproachful.

“I feel like I’m going to end up on some watchlist looking at him,” one of the men said.

“Idiot, we’re already wanted escapees from Blackgate,” chided another.

The thieves were at a loss—they awkwardly gaped at Jon with complete bewilderment. Somehow, that just amplified Jon’s irritation and embarrassment.

Suddenly, smokebombs erupted from the men’s feet, and Jon heard the unmistakable twang of metal wires coiling and snapping together. When the mist cleared, Damian was leaning on the van with a cocky grin, and every single robber was on the ground bound by tight metal wires—somehow, even the guy in the driver seat.

“What took you so long?” Jon snapped at Damian.

“I was waiting for the right time,” Damian shrugged. His cheeks were straining from the effort to contain his laughter. “Besides, your apparent cuteness was an effective ruse.”

Jon replied by elbowing Damian in the ribs.

“I don’t get it,” the robbers’ leader said from where he was bound on the floor. “Are exposed legs a new fad with the sidekicks these days?”

“Nooo! Gah, this sucks!” Jon huffed in frustration. He stormed off, looking more like a grumpy child than ever before.

“He lost a bet,” Damian explained.

The man nodded sympathetically.


An explosion roared in the eastern block of Metropolis’ Shuster District, and Damian and Jon raced to the scene. But when they got there, the battle was obviously over. They were met with a frantic scene of police officers scurrying around together with emergency crews. A few yards away, Superman was overseeing the police taking a man in green metallic armor inside a truck. Batman and Nightwing came over to the boys, and stopped dead in their tracks when they got a clear look at Jon’s clothes.

An awkward silence followed as the two men stared at the two boys. Dick broke the silence first.

“Hey, isn’t that mine…?”

Damian cleared his throat. “Father, we rushed here when we heard the explosion, is everything alright?”

Batman took a few seconds to find his voice—his glare was still alternating between Damian and Jon.

“A disturbance by Metallo—one of Clark’s old enemies. It’s been taken care of. Robin, why is Superboy—“

Bruce was interrupted by Clark’s arrival. He sensed that Clark was about to say something, but stopped mid-breath when he saw Jon in the green underpants and not much else. His expression radiated pure confusion, as if his face contorted to ask “Why?”

While Batman is known for never showing emotion, he was not above breathing an exasperated sigh. Jon, for his part, just about died from embarrassment. His cheeks were as red as his father’s cape, and his knees were shivering.

Damian suddenly sensed that all eyes were on him. He spread his arms apologetically.

“He lost a bet! He agreed to wear Grayson’s old outfit! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Dick got behind the two boys and wrapped his arms around their shoulders.

“Don’t worry, super dads, I got this.”


Dick, Damian and Jon were perched on a rooftop. The previous evening’s chill gave way to a humid haze that settled over lower Gotham.

“This is stupid,” Damian grumbled.

“No it’s not, Robin,” Dick said gently. “Consider this as training on how to observe teamwork and respect for your partner.”

“How is this supposed to teach me anything?” Damian demanded as he gestured at his outfit. He was wearing a zipped jacket with Superman’s ‘S’ logo, just like Jon. He sported red sneakers, and he didn’t have a mask on. Most aggravating of all, he was forced to wear denim shorts that were cut off above the knee. Damian thought it was utterly ridiculous.

“This,” Dick began explaining, “is your punishment for making Jon go through wearing my costume without my permission. Besides, Damian looks cuter with shorts, doesn’t he, Jon?”

The skyline’s bright lights reflected on Jon’s suddenly-pink cheeks. He didn’t look at either Dick or Damian.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it like that…” Jon said timidly.

“I swear, Kent. Not. A. Word.”

Damian jumped off the roof. Before Dick followed him, Jon could’ve sworn Dick gave him a wink.

Jon jumped off after them. He was sure that laughing at Damian didn’t need any words.