dirty sheet

What Seungcheol Would Be Like Masturbating
  • LETS BE HONEST HERE
  • seungcheol is totally a PRO at pleasuring himself
  • (and others lbr)
  • can come in under a minute if he needs to he’s that good
  • rough and fast and dirty
  • leaves his sheets filthy
  • touches his chest to tease himself and get himself all worked up
  • so much lip biting his lips are r a w
  • doesn’t always bother taking all his clothes off, just pulls his jeans to his knees and his shirt up his chest
  • gotta be able to see those abs u kno
  • the hand that isn’t tugging on his dick is always wandering
  • sometimes in the sheets, sometimes rubbing his chest or his neck
  • sometimes touching his balls, sometimes trying to hold down his own hips
  • totally owns a fleshlight
  • power hips: initiated
  • fucking up into it hard and wet and rough
  • uses so much lube so that it’s all noisy and slick
  • little grunting gasps and groans
  • MORE LIP BITING
  • head tilted forward watching himself bc he looks daMN GOOD
  • hips bucking up and stuttering into his fist/the fleshlight
  • groans get louder as he gets closer
  • when he comes he throws his head back and lets out this broken groan as he comes all over his hand
  • doesn’t come as much as seok does but still comes a lot
  • gets lots of lil aftershocks of pleasure that send his hips bucking again
  • basically i wanna die so i can be a ghost and haunt seungcheols dick

After a particularly hard mission, Tony collapses into bed and buries his face into his soft pillow. He hasn’t even bothered taking off his clothes because he just doesn’t have the strength and he wants to sleep. Most of him expects Steve to pull him up before gently pushing him towards the bathroom (’those bed sheets are white and you’re all dirty, you’re gonna be the one whining in the morning about dirty sheets’) but all of the air rushes out of him when Steve decides that Tony would make a better bed than the actual one underneath him. 

“Steve, darling.”

“Mhm?”

“I can’t breathe.”

“I’m tired.” Steve yawns through the words before rolling off of Tony and bringing him into his embrace with one swift move. Tony immediately makes himself comfortable, curling himself up until he’s small enough to be hidden in Steve’s arms. There’s quietness for a bit and both of them are dosing off before Tony remembers. 

“I thought we had a meeting…” He mumbles though he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Shush…sleep.” Steve murmurs, gently rubbing at  the small of Tony’s back and yeah, sleep is good.

War of Love (Lafayette x Reader) Part One

“Y/N!” Martha Jefferson yelled, awaken
ing you. You pulled myself out of bed quickly, running upstairs to see what she might need or want. You knocked on the door, and she allowed you to come in. You took a quick glance at her, then looked down at the floor, not wanting to be punished. Since you was the maid, you were never allowed to speak or look at the residents of the house unless told. Your late sister, Y/S/N, did not follow the rules, and it hurts for you to think about what they did to her.

“Why are my sheets dirty? You did not clean these correctly!” You apologized, your hands behind your back. “Well? Grab them and clean it! Do not make me tell you this again.”

You bowed quickly, pulling the sheets off the bed. She was pregnant with her second child, and you prayed that he or she wasn’t as much of a hassle as the first. Patsy, was a wild birth, and she never left you alone. Everywhere you went, whether to visit one of your friends on the field or trim the plants inside the house, she always followed, asking if you wanted to play with her dolls or why my clothes were so dirty. You thanked the face that they sent her off to her aunt’s house, leaving you behind.

Martha stomped out of the room, her belly guiding her path. You sighed, looking at the sheets. It was dirty with dirt and soot, seeming to be from outside. You knew that you cleaned this sheet well, and she must have dirtied it in some way. You walked out the room, and out the back door.

It was hot outside, your already tanned skin burning in the heat. You took the washboard from its place, and began scrubbing the sheets.

Your mother and father both died on a ship to the British Kingdom. You was at their friend’s house, the Jefferson’s. Once they heard of your parents’ demise, they took your inheritance money for themselves and made you work for them as a maid. You worked alongside their slaves, and sometimes, you felt like one as well. Your only friend, her name is Sally, took you under her wing, and taught you everything that she knows. You knew, for sure, that without Sally, you would have been dead long ago. The Jefferson’s aren’t the nicest people around. You made sure to hide from them every chance you get.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and tensed up quickly.

“Don’t be scared, Y/N, it’s just little ol’ me.” You turned to look at Sally, and she smiled. Her brown, curled hair was pulled back with some tied up plants, and her face was slightly dirty from working all day. You could tell she was exhausted, but her big, brown eyes still had happiness in them. You loosened up, and continued to scrub. “Miss Jefferson making you clean it again?” You nodded, sighing.

“I know I did it right. Honestly, she might have soiled it just so that I can do it again.” You grumbled, your wrist hurting from brushing the cloth. Sally put her hand on top of yours, and crouched down next to you. She guided you into cleaning it so that it wouldn’t hurt your hand, and you thanked her. “Sally, do you ever wish that you could just run away, away from this plantation and out into the real world?”

She shook her head. “This all I ever known, Y/N. If I left, who will be punished for it. I can’t let that happen,” she squeezed your cheek, “but you could run away. Join the revolution, that’s all ya ever talk about.” You laughed, hanging the blanket to dry on the line. As you placed the pins at the ends, you looked back at Sally.

“I do want to join the revolution, but I cannot. If sir Jefferson ever found out about me leaving…” You shivered, knowing exactly what he would do. You knew of the relationship between him and Sally. He would take her out of her sleeping quarters many nights, with Madam Jefferson fast asleep in bed. The sideways winks and glances he would give her, the smile that was reserved for her, you suspected what was going on. And not too long after you arrived, he was repeating the same tactics to another woman.

You.

Sally had a flash of panic in her face.

“Therefore, you must leave, Bella. He will not stop, not until he gets what he wants. I need you to leave, tonight.” You looked at her, shock in your face.

“Tonight? I…I cannot to that, Sally. I cannot leave without you.”

“Why not? I’ve prepared everything. The clothing is packed away under my bed, and I’ve saved enough money to pay for your trip. I do not want anything to happen to ya, Y/N. At midnight, try to come so that I can give you the things ta’ leave.”

You heard steps walking closer, and immediately went back to your job, and Sally walked away, not glancing back at you. You whispered a thank you to her, and focused on the task at hand. You knew who was there, and desperately hoped he would pay no mind. After all, he had a wife and a child on the way. As you ignored his approach, you felt a hand touch the side of your waist.

“How are you, Y/N?” You looked at him, and he smirked. Nonchalantly, you moved out of his touch, and walked to the washboard. Thomas Jefferson stood tall, towering over most people. His hair was big and curly, moving with every gesture that he made. You didn’t lie to yourself; he was a handsome guy, but his personality and attitude made him unattractive. Luckily, he was leaving to France in a few days, so you didn’t have to worry that much.

“I am fine, sir.” You stated, rinsing off the wood. He walked slowly towards you, and you quickly turned and walked to the house.

“Y/N. Come here.” You froze, knowing that you could not disobey a direct order. You turned to him, and walked slowly. He watched, his head tilted slightly. You hated being treated like this, and you knew that you had to leave soon, or else something worse may happen.

As you stood a foot away from him, and he raised his index finger, beckoning you towards him. You stayed in your place.

“What may I assist you with, sir?” Thomas laughed, walking to you instead. There were inches between you and him, and he lowered his head.

“Oh, how lovely you look today.” He whispered in your ear, his breath tickling the skin. You flinched, forcing yourself to stay in your place. He reached a hand, touching your cheek. “Your father would have been very proud to see how his young daughter has grown.” His head lowered down to your neck, and he dragged his lips against it. You was shaking, hoping that someone would come and help. He kissed the skin, and laughed, backing away.

“I will be at your room tonight, at one. See you soon.” His hand traced your back as he walked away. Once you saw that he turned the corner, you fell, trembling with fear. He did not say why he was coming, and you did not question him either. You both were aware of what was going to happen. Sally was right, you needed to leave before he did the unthinkable.

You must leave tonight.  

Jacob Frye x Reader - The Fall

Originally posted by jiruchan

[A/N: A series where the reader is trained by 40-year-old Jacob Frye–causing a romance to happen between them.

Rated: SFW]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 |

Read it on AO3.

Keep reading

I loved you curiously first, with fingertips brushing your hands and arms whenever we met, with space between our bodies and hidden glances in long halls. I loved you badly with each passing day, with bated breath and my phone in my hands, with your face behind closed eyes and your voice in my dreams. I loved you boldly next, with sweet kisses under blue skies, with your hand under my skirt and your breath down my throat. I loved you hopelessly after, with your blood behind my teeth and your name carved into my tongue, with your hands around my throat and the sharp peaks of your teeth edged into my shoulder blades. I loved you desperately in the end, with time rushing by until the vowels of your name remained like ash in my mouth, with my body spent on dirty sheets and my thighs wide open missing you. I loved you. I still do.

- loving you was like breathing | r.m

rejected modern prophets

kids who’ve taken a vow of silence, eyes bloodshot and throat straining with the weight of prophecy, shunned even by the burdened. charcoal-dirtied fingers and sheets and sheets of doom, destruction, deliverance. their blood collecting under the unbroken skin of their cheeks, results of fist fights with unbelievers, attempts at accommodating omens on their skin like divine Rorschach inkblots for those who look long enough. 

kids with hand-ravaged hair and ancient tear stains wrapping their arms around themselves, whispering, whispering, whispering. hodu l'Adonai. their hymns on the wall aren’t vandalism, not blasphemy though written in blood, they’d like to tell you. but unlike the prophets of long ago, their gratitude has failed them, and so they remain silent. 

Being Married To James March Would Include...

Him being so overly protective of you 

 Using his cane on you *wink* *Wink* 

 Attending Devils Night with him each year 

 Him wanting you to kill with him 

Which turns him the fuck on 

Him calling you “My Queen” “Darling” “Beautiful” “Dearest”

 If anyone showed any interest in you what so ever he would “deal” with them 

Being the love of his life 

 So much sex 

 Bloody sex (literally)

 Him being proud of you when you first kill 

 Literally he’s like a kid in a sweet shop when you first kill someone 

“Dirty” sheets Miss Evers has to clean 

 Her walking in on you two several times 

 Everyone in the hotel respects you and never dares hurt you 

 Being the ultimate killing couple that everyone fears

rchlltz  asked:

Hi again! Thanks for your answer about Arizona. In reading your blog I learned a lot more from TBB:RE (I only have read the "regular" Bad Beginning) and was wondering what you thought of the brandy bottle being misplaced in relation to Olaf's "best trick" he shows the Baudelaires in the Hotel Denouement basement when they set the fire? Spilling the flammable liquid and igniting it? Do you think it's evidence for or against Olaf as the fire starter at the Baudelaire mansion?

Hi again, @rchlltz!

Olaf remains the #1 suspect for the Baudelaire mansion’s fire. Both “The Bad Beginning: Rare Edition” and “The Dismal Dinner” sprinkle clues pointing to Olaf’s involvement.

“Ha!” Count Olaf cried. “Pay attention, orphans, and I’ll teach you some of my best tricks. First, spread those dirty sheets all over the floor. Then, take those jugs of extremely flammable chemicals and pour them all over the sheets.”
[The Bad Beginning, Chapter Thirteen]

Here and there, the children could see traces of the home they had loved: fragments of their grand piano, an elegant bottle in which Mr. Baudelaire had kept brandy, the scorched cushion of the windowseat where their mother liked to sit and read. Curiously enough, Mr. Baudelaire’s brandy bottle was found on the remains of the dining table, with no coasters nearby. This would indicate that either the coasters were burned beyond recognition, or the Baudelaires had received a visitor who had no manners whatsoever.
[The Bad Beginning: Rare Edition, pp.12-13]

But Count Olaf just sat there as calmly as if they were discussing the weather.
Certain kinds of weather-severe rainstorms, for instance-have a dampening effect on fires, which is displeasing to arsonists. There have been reports of alleged arsonists so reportedly displeased with the weather that they have been rumored to pound their beverages on an unprotected wooden table.

[The Bad Beginning: Rare Edition, p.98]

I don’t know whether the scene in the Hotel Denouement’s laundry room is supposed to parallel Olaf’s disregard for coasters. It relates to a different subplot: (Link). Basically the rings left on the wooden apparatus are evidence of Olaf’s presence on the scenes of his crimes, which would be helpful in arresting him for arson. Did Olaf use the alcohol in Bertrand’s brandy bottle to start the fire? Maybe, maybe not. All we know for almost certain is that he was inside the Baudelaire mansion on the morning of the fire, at the Baudelaire parents’ invitation.

“You’re the one who made us orphans in the first place,” he said, uttering out loud for the first time a secret all three Baudelaires had kept in their hearts for almost as long as they could remember. Olaf closed his eyes for a moment, grimacing in pain, and then stared slowly at each of the three children in turn.
“Is that what you think?” he said finally.
“We know it,” Sunny said. “You don’t know anything,” Count Olaf said.
“You three children are the same as when I first laid eyes on you. You think you can triumph in this world with nothing more than a keen mind, a pile of books, and the occasional gourmet meal.” He poured one last gulp of cordial into his poisoned mouth before throwing the seashell into the sand. “You’re just like your parents,” he said, and from the shore the children heard Kit Snicket moan.

[The End, Chapter Thirteen]    

A Couple Of Forevers

Iris West Takes Up Vlogging

Iris West threw her work bag onto her couch and made a beeline for her bedroom to find her digital camera. When she arrived, she was immediately met with the sight of crumpled bed sheets and a plate of half-eaten pizza and chips. She scoffed at the open invitation that her boyfriend had left for ants and vermin to invade her beautiful home.

”That man, fast enough to vibrate a train through a slab of concrete, but not enough to put a dish in the sink before he speeds off on one of his rescue missions.”

Iris retrieved the dirty dish from her bed and sat it on her bedside table, then scraped the crumbs into her hand. She then stripped the bed, and threw the dirty sheets into the washing machine, before replacing them with fresh sheets not stained with pizza grease.

“Does he even realize how hard it is to get grease out of sheets?”

When she returned, she sighed at the time on her phone.

This impromptu laundry session had eaten away ten minutes of her recording time. She was no CSI, but the plate of pizza was still warm, which meant that she and Barry had just missed each other.

It also meant that he would be back soon, so she needed to get started if she didn’t want to be interrupted. Unless the meta/criminal situation was severe, she only had about ten more minutes before Barry would be back from STAR labs, and if necessary, CCPD.

On top of this, she had an article to finish. Then the rest of the night would be devoted to cooking and spending time with Barry. It was in-home date night, which meant half-watching a couple of sappy movies, and a few hours of passionate lovemaking.

Her video was important to her, but nothing took precedent over their real, physical, intimate time together, so she needed to get this video done and out of the way.

After a quick makeup touch up in the bathroom, Iris threw on some clothes that she hadn’t been running around in all day–nothing special, a flowy peach colored v-neck chiffon dress, and the diamond necklace Barry had gotten her for Christmas.

Her hair had been in a messy bun all day. Had she not had to clean up after a grown man, she would have had time to flat iron the dents out of it. Instead, she just slicked up her edges and pulled a few loose tendrils down around to frame her face. “This is only the first video,” she assured herself. She’d have more chances for proper primping.

Once satisfied with her appearance, Iris retrieved her brand new Nikon camera from her bedside table. The salesman at the electronics store claimed that it was the best in its price point. Who knew if that was true or not. But it would serve her purpose. She’d spent the previous night learning the ins and out of it, and couldn’t wait to put it to good use.

She placed her camera on the tripod, which was positioned in front of her bed. She then opened the to survey her likeness in the screen. Everything looked pretty good, except for the fact that there was a dark shadow over her face. Iris sighed and got up to allow some light to file in through her large bedroom windows. If she knew that she was going to be vlogging long-term, she’d invest in some good lighting like those fancy YouTubers. But she wasn’t going to shell out that kind of cash for something she’d probably use for only a couple of weeks.

When she was done with her vlogs, Barry would probably use the camera, so she didn’t feel bad about the 500 dollars she spent on it. Lighting, however—Iris couldn’t justify spending 100 dollars on something that would just sit in their closet, taking up space.

Once the room was properly illuminated, Iris took her seat back on the bed and hit record. “Video-1 of 20. Hey, Barry. If you’re watching these videos then…” Iris sighed and choked back the lump building in her throat. “Savitar succeeded in murdering me on May 25, 2017.

crappy doodles from subway idk
i like that silly comic with young archie and maxie
1: ‘What is your fucking problem!?!?’
2: M: ‘Sorry. I was wrong.’
A: ‘Me too, actually. Wanna buy an ice-cream?…’
M: ‘…yeah’
3: *intense*
4: A: ‘I don’t wanna argue with you…’
M: ‘Yeah, yeah, calm down, i love you too’

Hope Chest

Three smoking suns
nested in a wooden box
are what is left of our
legless poem.

No comet tails
or stardust in our sleeves:
only light, bleeding thick
and slow over a horizon

made of bus stops,
cold mornings,
the grind and rattle of
kitchen dumpsters,
cracked teacups,
electric signs
dark before noon.

Turn the short hand
of your numberless clock
to twelve. Press your body
into these dirty sheets
and let the hours
     move, melt, mend.

~jlimrosenberg

i took a shower!

it was hard. there was crying.

be proud of me a lot. 

Septum Annorum

Part of my HP au for TMNT, a bit of first year Mikey getting into trouble.

———————————————————–

Mikey pushed his foot against the ancient stone, grunting as he shoved with all his eleven year old might.

A long, gritty dragging sound later, and the ages old secret door popped open- swinging out on its invisible hinges and releasing a cloud of tunnel dust with it.

Mikey lost his footing when it did, and slid out the slanted tunnel with a yelp. Thankfully, the house elves of the Ravenclaw towers hadn’t done laundry yet that day, and Mikey landed with a soft “pomf!” on someone’s pile of dirty sheets.

Face down.

Eugh.

Mikey hurriedly sat up, wiping his mouth to get rid of the taste of dusty sheets. The room was empty, like he thought it would be, so he sat for a moment on the dirty laundry.

Now which bed was his brother’s again…?

Keep reading

This is my first g (and then some extra). I see so many stripper and SB money shots on tumblr but mine is pretty far away from that :/ My nails are short and stubby and dirty, I don’t have my own apartment for in-calls. I’m still learning to not take shit from frugal clients, my make-up is from the dollar store, I don’t own any expensive shoes or bags, half my clothes are second-hand. I am by no means luxe (I don’t even aspire to be at this point), and most of this money will go towards rent and bills and textbooks.

Buuuuuuuut I’m fucking getting there. I never imagined I’d be posting money shots of over $1000, and I’m still a long way off the luxe photos of bejewelled hands with salon nails holding 10x what I’ve got here, and I’m not even close to owning the kind of wardrobe that you see on SB tumblr, but, I’M FUCKING GETTING THERE. This is a nice step in the right direction, I know I’ll keep working hard, and I’ll be rolling in it eventually (hopefully) :P

And to all the other brothel babes, SBs, strippers, indie escorts, masseuses, and all other sex workers - you can get there too. Dream big, darlings.

Numb.

🔅Can you do an imagine where your fighting off walkers with the group in Alexandria and everything’s going well until Carl loses an eye and the reader (his girlfriend) starts crying and freaking out then when Carl is in the hospital bed the reader is their for him and talks to him even though he’s not awake and she falls asleep holding his hand and then he wakes up to him saying something sweet and FLUFF (Basically the season premiere of the walking dead) sorry that it’s soo long🔅

I hope you like it!💕


We were leaving Jessie’s house and were about to walk though almost the whole town with just dirty sheets wrapped around our bodies and our hopes and prayers to not be devoured by the walkers. I was positioned between Ron, who held my left hand, and Carl that had his fingers intertwined with mine. Even if we were walking among growling beasts with rotten bodies, feeling Carl’s touch made my heart beat at a normal pace.

-Hey, —he whispered when he noticed the sweat that poured out of the palm of my hand. —it’s gonna be okay.

We kept strolling down the street until we abruptly came to a stop. I scowled and poked my head from behind Carl to see what was going on in the front of the row.

Jessie’s youngest son started crying and fell into some sort of shock, he kept his gaze locked in the walkers, completely ignoring his mom’s calls.

Suddenly, a walker grabbed his head and ripped the skin out of it. Blood stained his face and started dripping down his body. More walkers heard his screams and headed towards him to take several bites as well.

His mom cried and screamed, making the walkers notice our presence. She was bitten in the neck.

-Carl. —I whispered as I pulled his hand. —We have to go.

His eyes were wide open as he watched the sanguinary scene. He slowly nodded and turned his face to look at Rick. Jessie was holding on to Carl’s hand so tightly that he couldn’t release himself from her grasp.

-Dad. —he called in a discrete voice. —Dad.

He had fallen into a trance, and for the way he stared at Jessie, I knew that he was in deep pain as he remembered every moment that he had spent with her. Finally, he raised his ax and cut her forearm. I felt Ron’s hand slowly slip from mine.

-You. —he walked past me and raised his gun in front of his face pointing it at Rick. My hands were shaking as his finger crept closer to the trigger. A loud gasp emerged from my lips when I saw Carl standing between Ron and his father, between Ron and that gun. I pulled my knife from my pocket and, with all the strength I didn’t know I had, I stabbed Ron in the head. I heard a gunshot but when I saw Rick and Carl standing, I figured that Ron might had just shot to the air. His knees slammed against the ground.

-(Y/N)? —Carl turned to face me and I noticed blood streaming down from his eye socket. His body fell hard on the floor. My throat was sore after the scream that left my mouth and heavy, salty tears were staining my cheeks, I felt them burn on my skin.

Rick picked Carl up from the ground and started running towards the infirmary.

I picked up Ron’s gun and led the way as I shot any walker that got too close to us.

Once he was placed in a bed, Denise, our doctor, asked me to hold his head down as she tried to clean the blood from his face. My hands went numb and my heart went numb and my brain went numb, the only thought that leaped in my head was that Carl was gonna die.

Every tear that left my eyes landed on Carl’s skin and my shaking hands tried to wipe them away. Denise noticed how disturbed I was, so she asked me to get some rest and try to calm down. It took Aaron and Spencer to drag me away from him because I wanted to hold his hand and stay with him the whole time.

I sat on a couch, staring blankly at the wall that stood opposite from me, hoping that my boyfriend was alright.

-(Y/N). —Denise popped out of nowhere and bent over to meet my gaze. I lifted my face and saw her watery image. —We’re done. He’s resting, if you want to see-

I quickly got on my feet and ran as fast as I could to get to him. I stopped for a moment at the doorway of the room he was being kept in, I saw him laying with a bandage pressed on his right eye and wrapped around his head. Flashes from a while ago came rushing back to my head, a hollow space marked his face after the bullet had pierced his eye.

My body fell on the chair beside him and I pushed my hand forward to find his. I held it under mine and missed those moments when he intertwined our fingers.

-Carl. —my voice came out more trembling than I had expected. —Please, you have to wake up.

His hand was completely motionless unlike his chest which slowly heaved as I spoke.

-You can’t leave me alone in this world, Carl. You’re… —I made a small pause as I tried to steady my breathing. —You’re everything I have.

The last words I pronounced slipped out of my mouth in a murmur, my mind was rambling and my eyes were closing, so I pressed my forehead against the side of his bed but never took my hand from his.

The first rays of sunlight appeared in the room, I slowly opened my eyes as they adjusted to the dim light. I raised my head to look at Carl. His mouth was slightly open and his uncovered eye was still shut. I squeezed his hand a little tighter and he wrapped his fingers around my hand. My eyes were wide open and my jaw almost dropped to the floor.

-You didn’t think I’d leave you, did you? —he murmured. I smiled widely and left my seat to get closer to his bed. I sat in the edge of it and hugged him, I felt his smile on my neck before giving it a quick peck.