finger surface

Classifications of cronch

Classic Cronch™
•snow
•styrofoam
•gravel
•celery
•stepping on leaves
•beach sand

Squonch (squish-cronch)
•floam
•slime
•bubble slime
•slime with beads/sequins

Cranch (crack-cronch)
•crackling fire
•breaking pastries
•breaking sticks/twigs

•glow sticks

iCronch (ice/water cronch)
•ice
•slushies

NatCronch (nature-cronch)
•crushing pinecones
•leaves
•tree bark
•gravel
•crushing acorns
•crushing seed pods

Plonch (plastic/paper cronch)
•chip bags
•wax paper
•crinkly paper
•crinkly plastic
•those crinkly balloons

Slonch (sizzle-cronch)
•sizzling bacon
•hot oil
•opening a soda can
•sizzle

Sonch (sand-cronch)
•kinetic sand
•squishing sand
•crumbling sand

Monch (marble/bead cronch)
•wood beads
•plastic beads
•marbles
•fuze beads
•buttons
•pins
•clips
•jewelry
•glass beads

Bronch (breaking cronch)
•stepping on broken glass
•breaking cds
•snapping wood
•crushing boxes
•stepping on soda cans

Chonch (chop-cronch)
•chopping kinetic sand
•cutting kinetic sand
•chopping/cutting floam
•chopping styrofoam
•chopping vegetables

Clonch (click-cronch)
•clicky buttons
•switches
•gears
•roller coasters

Chench (chew-cronch)
•crackers
•cookies
•rubber/silicon
•carrots
•mouth sounds

Winonch (wind-cronch)
•breathing/blowing in ear
•blowing into microphone
•wind
•brushing microphone

Glonch (glitch/static cronch)
•glitching noises
•tv static
•vhs static
•chhhh sounds

Verbonch (verbal-cronch)
•making vocal cronch noises
•cronchy echolalia
•the words cronch

Scronch (scratch-cronch) •scratching hard surfaces •drumming fingers •scratching cardboard •scraping •caligraphy
instant gratification (m)

Originally posted by pjmksj

fuccboii jk x cheerleader! reader ft sex in an instant photobooth

7k, smut

WARNING: this is just pure smut no plot whatsoever lmao and it’s filthy as hell read at ur own risk


11.57am [Jeon Jeongguk]: Quad. Now.

The brevity of his text should annoy you, but it only ignites a desire that burns insistently till it’s quenched. With your screen brightness turned down this low, it should be hard for anyone but you to decipher the words on your screen, but you still jump in surprise and guilt when your roommate, Sejong taps you on the shoulder.

“Hey, don’t forget practice is at 12.30pm today, don’t be late!! Coach already seemed near the end of her rope the last time and the team sure as hell doesn’t need her cracking down any harder. Got it?” Sejong might be your dearest roommate, but as captain of the cheer team she definitely takes her duties very seriously.

Swallowing back nervous laughter, you attempt to flash her an easy smile. “Yes, I promise I’ll be there on time!! It won’t happen anymore, I swear.”

You quickly stash away your phone in your bag and finish adjusting your knee socks before standing and bidding her a hasty goodbye.

“Wait, you’re leaving now? There’s still like half an hour before we start!” Sejong narrows her eyes at you just as your hand lands upon the door handle. Even facing away from her you can feel her scrutinising gaze on your back, and your urgency to leave the room increases.

“Uhh… yeah, you said my splits needed some work last time right? I think I’m gonna go in early and get some practice in.” To your own ears your excuse sounds flimsy and coupled with the slight tremor in your voice, you’re almost definitely sure that Sejong will call you out.

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everybody always says sirius black is the vain marauder but i dare you to try and tell me james potter did not stop in every single shop window/mirror/reflective surface to finger gun and loudly tell himself that he is “one hot bitch!” 

Nothing More [ III ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst

Length: 8.7k

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Summary: Watching the man you love love someone else was the most painful feeling in the world.

Nothing More Masterlist

Originally posted by katherine8595

Having a secret for so long that suddenly becomes public was uncomfortable and dread inducing. A part of you you’d kept locked away from prying eyes for years had not only been thrown into the spotlight, but shown to the one person you hadn’t wanted to see it. You felt naked, you hadn’t been ready to let the world know you were completely in love with Byun Baekhyun, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved. The weight of keeping it hidden was gone off your shoulders but they still remained sagged from the pain in your chest.

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Good Girl (Dom!Sherlock x reader)

A/N: SOMEONE reminded me of Sherlock using the riding crop week ago and I realized I had not thought of it enough, or even enjoyed it enough. So let’s dig into it, shall we? Also I might be writing about Molly a bit too harshly on this one, but I really like her character, so don’t think I’m trying to bully her.

Warnings: smut, so much smut, riding crop, bondage, it ended up with dom!sherlock I think that’s the riding crop’s fault, some swearing.


”Oh, you’re here with that again.” Molly Hooper gasped at the sight of the riding crop in Sherlock’s hand. She had not expected to see him with it ever again. Her fingers fiddled the files she held so dearly against her chest, nervously taking in uneven breaths, her eyes wide and a warm smile creeping it’s way on her thin pink lips. Those brown beaming eyes fixing on the man’s face in front of her, trying to get an answer to an unsaid question that was right at the tip of her tongue and since she got none, deciding to make herself heard she squeaked out, ”Another experiment?”

Sherlock’s expressionless face was still blank, his pale skin almost shining under the bright white lights that shone from the lamps above them in the hallway down stairs in St. Bartholomew’s hospital at the morgue section. He faked a smile, trying his best to seem sincere, but the curve on his lips disappearing as fast as it appeared after he answered to Molly’s presumption by, ”Yes, obviously.” He then gazed over Molly’s shoulder to the door she had just exited, her spot where she examined the bodies brought in for crime consulting. ”Is your room free for use?” The smile reappearing on his face, eyes shining as he sweetly pointed towards the door.

Molly too gazed over her shoulder, dumbfounded by Sherlock’s straight forward demeanor, her pony tail swishing while following her head’s movement back and forth. She sharply turned back to Sherlock and looked disappointingly doubtful. In these occasions Sherlock would need to give Molly numerous compliments to get her bend to his will, usually two or three would do it, and he still had some laying about in the deeps of his mind. He didn’t usually settle for being told no, but even as easy as Molly was he hated to go through the trouble. Then again he didn’t need to feel bad. He was in a relationship, she knew it too. He could point out a nice thing or two about her appearance without feeling guilt.

”Well, I actually just cleared the hall and was about to get home…” Molly muttered biting down on her lower lip. She was still staring right back as Sherlock with her big eyes, much like a puppy. As Sherlock stared back at her she tried to find something, anything, to fix her eyes on so she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable by the silence that took over the hallway the both had blocked. Her fingers drummed the surface of the file on her arms and before Sherlock got to test his new compliment on Molly she sighed, ”I could stay for an hour longer.”

Sherlock genuinely smiled, thanked Molly and followed after her as she turned on her heels and headed back to her spot, keeping the door open for Sherlock as he followed close behind. He was a step away from Molly, but he was careful enough not to step on her heels, keeping the distance long enough to avoid doing so. He instructed Molly what he needed, a body, in what position and age, which actually at this point were all unnecessary to him, but to keep with his habits he went by it anyway. He picked an older woman, not over fifty years old, chubby, about a day old corpse.

When you entered the hospital after receiving a message from Sherlock, where he suggested you to meet him at the morgue before going to Baker Street, you took the elevator to the down floors. He rather would company you on your way to his flat than have you wait him there for fifteen to sixty minutes when you could wait for him hear, right next to him.

You knew he was there for an experiment, but you hadn’t been informed which kind, but it wasn’t the first time. He didn’t much go with explaining everything and every part of his work to you, only when he saw fit. You exited the elevator, turned down the hall, through a door and saw Molly Hooper standing close to a window. She was flinching at the sight ahead of her that you were unable to witness. This made your imagination run wild. If Sherlock was cutting a corpse to pieces, scaring Molly you would let him hear from it for sure.

You and Molly were rather good friends, though you didn’t see each other that often. You had known her longer than Sherlock and back then, when you finally met the man Molly had been daydreaming about, constantly talking about him, you felt really bad for finding him charming, sexy and interesting. You wanted to know him better, you could point out just how unique person he was by first standing and that intrigued you. Sherlock, back then, didn’t much try to approach you and actually acted very cold toward you, but as time passed he did become interested in you. The truth was that he had found you just as interesting as you had found him, but, incapable of handling feelings and emotions he tried to push you away. But when Sherlock did tell you how he felt you fought back, for Molly. You didn’t want to be that friend that steals boyfriend or a crush, though Sherlock and Molly had never dated. Time went by and Molly realized how much Sherlock cared for you, she insisted you to let him take you out and you did. Now you had been dating for almost a year with the detective and it didn’t bother Molly, she still did fancy Sherlock, yes, but would never do anything, or try anything because she knew you and him were together.

You approached Molly with long strides, your hands sway on either side of you, your shoes hitting the floor and the sound echoing loudly, but it wasn’t enough to bring Molly back from her trance. Only until you were right beside her, already talking, she jumped realizing you were there. She was holding a file in her arms, her white long jacket almost burying her form under, her hands barely showing as she held the file high, the top touching her chin. You took a stand next to her after you had greeted her and asked her, ”What’s he doing?” Molly simply nodded towards the window.

You turned to look through the glass and what you saw almost stopped your heart, the breath you took getting stuck in your throat. The reflection of your boyfriend on the other side moved fast, mirroring his movements as he kept whipping the pale lifeless body, hair falling on his face, sweat drops lining on his forehead. He was so concentrated on what he was doing that he hadn’t even noticed you, much like Molly just now. You and she stood there in silence for a minute, admiring Sherlock in his tight purple dress shirt, black jacket and trousers that hugged his body perfectly, not too tight to bother his doings.

Your eyes were captivated by the show. You pressed your thighs together, trying to evade the wetness that increased between your legs from growing, your cheeks turning pink. You could hear your own breathing, deep and long breaths. You felt ashamed that you were standing by your good friend when your boyfriend was right there, making you feel like this. The whip was drawn back then coming down in a fast swish, the end of the crop must likely echoing in the other room. Sherlock’s hair pulled back when he straightened his back, readying for another spank, then falling over his eyes when his head lowered. It took all of your efforts to move your gaze away from Sherlock and to finally concentrate on Molly, to try and be polite like a normal human being should.

”How have you been, Molly?” You asked and even if you had tried to sound as friendly and natural it didn’t show. You ended up reminding of your shy demeanor where you had only just met the woman in front of you and this was the first time talking to her which was not true. She was your closest friend. You had seen Molly repeatedly just last month. Of course these days always Sherlock being precent. ”I haven’t seen you in a while.” You gave her a warm smile to which she answered with one of her own. You started a conversation that was irrelevant to Sherlock’s on going spanking in the next room, and you kept up with it for about ten minutes. You were talking about work and Molly’s life. She had met someone who she considered worthy of her time and you cheered her to go for it, just like she had done with you on Sherlock. After those ten minutes she looked at her phone screen to see the clock and gasped. She had two missed calls and she was late from seeing this mysterious man of hers.

You put your hands comfortingly on her shoulders, promised her you and Sherlock would finish things in here while she went to change so she could clean up after Sherlock and get to her man. Molly thanked you and rushed to change, typing on her phone and then as she went to enter through a door she lifted her phone over her ear to call. You turned back to Sherlock who still kept spanking and couldn’t but freeze for another minute. He lifted his gaze, took couple of uncontrolled steps and flinched, or so it looked like, as he saw you there instead of Molly. He smirked and nodded his head, out of breath he was, to which you answered by a wave of your hand and mouthing ’Hi’ to him. He beckoned you to company him on the other side of the glass and you did as you were asked.

”Hello, Sherlock.” You smiled, closing the door behind you. The soft click heard by you both, your hand lingering on the handle while you stood near the entrance. Sherlock smirked at you and your weariness, a chuckle leaving his lips, his hands gripping the riding crop, eyes fixed on it, but not concentrated by the object. He spun on his heels, his eyes were gleaming by now, at the sight of you, and he was greatly humored  by something. He tilted his head and asked, ”Did you enjoy the show?”

”Molly needs to leave soon so better finish up what you’re doing.” You informed in an ordering tone trying to change the subject, but still held a playful smile on your lips. You walked right beside Sherlock, the room was probably a degree or two warmer than on the other side. Your steps were short, but fast enough as you approached him, not letting him grow impatient while he already waited to embrace you. He held his left hand stretched inviting you for a side hug and as you reached his arm he pulled you to his side, kissing your right temple. The riding crop was still in his right hand, his fingers gripping on it, holding it on his side and the tip of it brushing close the floor.

”I’m almost ready.” He said and his left hand’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, then a smirk spread on his lips. ”So you did enjoy the show?” That bastard just checked your pulse, you realized. ”Someone’s exited.” He stated and you looked up at his bright shining eyes and a smile he tried to keep away from spreading on his lips. His hair looked more black than dark brown in the dim light in the room you were in and it shadowed his whole face, strands of hair hanging loosely over his face. You wanted to hit him, but Sherlock pulled you closer, your hands pressed on either side of your body making it impossible for you to inform him of your opinion. You settle for a frown which wasn’t as effective as a fist to his shoulder would’ve been.

He laughed at your expression, you reminded him of an unhappy child and he rubbed your left arm with his that was still wrapped around you. He leaned closer, his breath tickling your skin, lips brushing your ear, ”There. Finished.” It came out in a choked chuckled he had tried to hide, but failed. You suspected he really even cared you had caught him finding the situation humorous, then again you didn’t even know what the situation was in the first place, so you gave him a suspicious grin, your body leaning inches away from him to your left to get a better look at him.

”You didn’t even do anything.” You pin pointed, eyebrows low and eyes slightly narrowed but not scowling, amusement clear on your features but still doubtful. You could see Sherlock smile wickedly at your statement, his head turning towards the window to see had Molly already come back but fortunately was met with a sight of an empty hallway. He laughed and pulled you close again, whispering to your ear, ”Tell me, how long had you been watching?” You answered with, ”Ten minutes or so.” Of course you weren’t hundred percent sure. Sherlock nodded in agreement and looked away again. He had had hard time looking straight back at you for some reason and you kept trying to catch his attention, but failed.

”Guess that’s enough.” Sherlock admitted to himself. He pulled away from the hug and started to get ready to leave, he took his jacket near the doorway, from a hanger as well as his scarf. He didn’t give you any answers from there on. You met Molly before exiting the hospital then headed to hail for a cab. Sherlock opened the door for you, he was smiling constantly and in very good mood. He sat right beside you in the cab, closer than usually and what he did through the whole ride gave away what he was up to. His hand was on your thigh, caressing and massaging the surface of your pants, inching higher and higher. You couldn’t stop smiling. So this was one of those days then. His eagerness surprised you, that you had to admit.

When you finally got to Baker Street, Sherlock paid the ride, rushing to open the door to his flat for you and when you went inside, he shut the door with a loud bang. You were taking your coat off when Sherlock took a stand right behind you, his front pressed firmly against your back. His breath lingered on your shoulders and you could hear him panting. He was so deliciously needy for you by now that you couldn’t help but tease him a little.

”Leave your coat and shoes, get upstairs to my bedroom and start stripping.” He growled in your ear. You knew he would get impatient in a second, but you wanted this. He had made you go through his show, now he had to go through yours. The coat you were wearing had now fallen off your shoulders, hanging on your elbows when you gazed at Sherlock over your shoulder, peeking at him sexily, biting your lower lip and asked, ”Do you want me completely naked or in my underwear?” You teased, pulling your hair back so he could see you better. He sucked air in his lungs, his eyes narrowing when he hissed, ”Everything on the floor. And don’t make me wait for another second, or I will have to punish you.” You tried to keep the chuckle in. Oh you would enjoy this.

”Are we in a hurry?” You purred, now fully facing him, on your tip toes. Your hands found their way on his shoulders, your lips touching his chin as you went to whisper, ”Are you too eager you can’t wait any longer?” That was when Sherlock snapped. He growled, lifting the riding crop to his mouth and bit on it, lowered his shoulders, his coat falling on the floor, he ripped his scarf off around his neck, that too on the floor in a blink and then he hooked his hands behind your thighs, pulling you to him, lifting you up. Your chest was pressed against his, your hands now behind his back, legs around his hips as he started to carry you upstairs. You giggled at his sudden dominance.

Sherlock carried you straight to his room, kicking the ajar door open with his foot and threw you on the bed, closing the door just as loudly as the front door. He gave you a wild, lustful look, taking the crop from his mouth and ordered you, ”Clothes off. Now.” And you did as he asked. You took your time though, giving him a show you slid your pants down with slow motion, your shirt pulled over your head, your hips swinging while you stripped. You could see the bulge in Sherlock’s pants. You bit your lip again, now taking the top that had been under your long sleeved shirt, lifting it to shield your eyes and while you were at it, Sherlock approached you fast, pulling the cloth off you and throwing it somewhere in his room. You unclasped your bra, taking it off while Sherlock went down on you. You heard him moan as he took a whiff. ”So wet for me already.” He moaned, taking your knickers, ”Just as I suspected.” then pushing you back down on his bed.

His room was dark, the only light came from through the thin and light curtains, but it wasn’t much. Then again you didn’t really care was it day light or moon light in which you fucked, just that you could see his face. You crawled back on the bed, Sherlock taking a step closer, he hungrily studied your now naked body. You lifted your head and dared to ask, ”Aren’t you going to take yours off?” That made Sherlock smile. It was one of those dominant smiles that gave you the answer. This was going to take time. You were in for a good and long play, wether you liked it or not, and Sherlock would make sure you would suffer. This wasn’t going to be one of those fair fights, but a foreplay with Sherlock was never fair. He would make sure to torture you with a long teasing. ”I don’t need to take mine off.” He chuckled. That cocky bastard.

”Shame, I would love to help.” You smirked. You made a risky move, lifting your leg up in the air, your toes touching the bulge in his pants and rubbing the fabric that shielded his cock. You looked at Sherlock daringly, about to inch closer to unbuckle his belt when he shoved your leg away with a grunt. He took a hold of your ankles, pulled at them so you were laying on your back, towering over you and whispered with a low, threatening tone, ”One more move and I will tie you to the bed, darling.” This sent a shiver down your spine, your folds pulsing. You gave out a shaky breath, not able to contain yourself. You didn’t know was that what you wanted, for Sherlock to tie you down or to just go with what he had planned already? He was already warning you and you knew he could be very ruthless towards you in bed, but you also knew when you were challenged you couldn’t back up.

You kneed his groin fast but softly enough to not hurt him. His back arched and he moaned out loud in your ear. You moved your leg, your knee rubbing his bulge. You couldn’t continue it longer than five seconds before Sherlock pulled away from you. You sat up, half disappointed how long he lasted but half amused by his angered expression. He took fast long steps, took a pair of hang cuffs from his locker and turned to you. You playfully whined and pouted. ”Aw, come now Sherlock. I was just returning the favor.” You pulled your hands behind your back as if that would stop him from cuffing you to the bed and like you had suspected, it didn’t.

”On your stomach, woman.” He ordered coldly. You knit your brows together. You knew you were in for trouble as he addressed you by ’woman’ and you felt hesitant on turning your back to him. This resulted Sherlock rolling his eyes at you, he walked over to you, took you by the shoulders and turned you over. His hands were awfully forceful and powerful and you couldn’t fight him nor did you want to. You were in a state where every move he made, every touch he gave you made you tingle. His fingers wrapped around your left wrist, cuffed it and pulled it around one of the headboards iron bars. Then he took a hold of your right wrist, securing it with the other and got up from the bed. You looked at Sherlock over your shoulder, he admired your exposed body and you could tell that you disobeying, ending you cuffed to the bed had only turned him on even more.

He took the riding crop from the floor where he had dropped it when he had helped you strip, eyeing the object dangerously interested in it. He let his fingers caress the crop, taking his time admiring the item. Your breathing started to quicken. You had never done this before and were honestly nervous by now. You knew you could deal with pain, but you had never experienced it while sex, not like this. You had to admit that you had found it hot when he had whipped the dead body back in the hospital, secretly wanted him to use it on you, but now that you were there, laying naked on your stomach ready for a beating you couldn’t help but worry.

”This is going to serve as your punishment, for starters.” Sherlock informed, his eyes now back on you. ”But only for starters as I am aware this will also turn you on even more, so do not think I am being nice to you.” He warned with a low voice. He then lifted the crop and swished it through the air, the tip hitting you hard on your left butt cheek. You chocked out a sound that was a mix of yelp, gasp and shriek. The touch of the crop was so sudden and the pain so fast like a big elastic band hitting your rear you couldn’t make out sound louder than the snap itself that echoed from the spank.

”Now, count out with me.” Sherlock instructed coldly and showed no remorse which only exited you more. ”When you are unable to feel the blows only then I will stop. That was one.” He waited, but you said nothing. He huffed in irritation, then hit you again with the crop, hearing you gasp. ”One!” He yelled and you repeated his words shortly. ”Good girl.” Sherlock cooed, pleased at your cooperation and you felt the words sink in. You were getting wet by his hits, but him dressing you like that, so dominantly made you lose your mind.

You had reached to five when Sherlock stopped. He let his hand caress your red, sensitive behind with his tender fingers. You had never imagined that the sensation that came from being hit repeatedly and then caressed could feel this good, it really felt like a reward more than a punishment. Your body shook under his touch, anticipating to get a real reward from your dominant boyfriend, but your movements back fired. Sherlock mused, ”I see you can still feel my touch.” You whined when he withdrew his hand from you and gripped the crop. He held it high, over his head and calmly said, ”Keep counting with me, love.” And he brought it down hard. Thankfully it took him only six more spanks to find you silent, not responding and he stopped. He sat beside you and started caressing your behind.

You were out of breath, your ass tingling and cheeks wet from tears. You had to admit you had liked the spanking, the crop would definitely need to stay around, but you intended that next time it would be drawn on his skin, not yours. You relaxed as much as you could on the bed, the soft blankets underneath you caressing your skin nicely, warm from your body heath. You nuzzled your head to the pillows, moaned while Sherlock treated your stinging arse.

”Spread your legs for me.” Sherlock ordered after a while of silence and this time, without any nasty remarks or witty comebacks you did as he said. You couldn’t see, but you heard from his voice that he was smirking. ”Someone has learned their lesson.” This sent a spark through you and you instantly wanted to show him just how submissive you had become, it was in your nature to keep fighting and resisting. ”Good girl.” Sherlock purred and that made all the thoughts of resistance fade. You were a slave to that word. Oh how much you loved hearing him say it.

Sherlock got closer to the between of your legs, he took the riding crop out again, holding it loosely in his hand. You reacted to his movements and went to close your legs, but Sherlock stopped you. He took a hold of your calves and kept them in place with an iron like grip. ”Don’t close them.” He warned. You forced your legs to relax and let him do what he was about to. You jumped on the bed when he brought the tip of the crop up your wet slit, gathering some of your juices to it to examine how wet you were. You heard him groan, pleased by your wetness. He then threw the crop away, it ended up on the floor far away from the bed. You smiled, thinking finally you could get you release.

Sherlock reached over your body, his breath tickling your neck and he placed his lips on your bare skin, kissing you softly. He went down your spine, his hands on both side of your waist. He lingered at your lower back, his breath warm against you, kissing and licking your skin, worshipping you. You were breathing loudly, ready for him to take, to give you your release, but Sherlock was far from that. He went back up, his lips guiding him, back to your shoulders and to your neck. His curly hair ghosted on your cheek, his hands cupping your breasts. Oh how you had needed that. He massaged your nipples with his fingers, making sure to keep you moaning.

”Please.” You moaned in between deep breaths. ”Please, Sherlock.” You gasped. Sherlock grinned. You were already begging, how sad. ”Sherlock, I can’t take this anymore, I need you.” Your voice grew louder and louder, but Sherlock kept his pace steady, horribly slow. You didn’t want him to treat you this way, not now when he had started so dominantly, turning to your gentle lover that took his time to give all your body parts equally the same amount of love. His voice surprised you. It was nothing like what his actions gave out. He almost growled in your ear, ”You think you have learned your lesson?” He asked. You were baffled. What lesson? If he didn’t mean you disobeying his orders then you had no idea what he was talking about. ”When I give you an order, I expect you to follow it. No questions asked.” Good, so you were on the same page. You nodded your head, then moaned, ”I’ll be good. I’m a good girl. I’ll do what ever you say.” An evil grin spread on Sherlock’s lips. ”That is what I am counting on.” He gave you a last kiss, then pulled away. You heard him get off the bed, starting to strip. You were about to turn on your back when Sherlock snapped, ”I didn’t tell you to move. Don’t make me punish you again, love.”

You waited as he agonizingly slowly undressed himself, he could see you twitch on the bed, your eyes taking in every new naked part of him as he pulled the clothes off. ”How does it feel?” He asked. ”To have to wait for me?” You frowned. So this was payback time? ”It’s killing me.” You whispered truthfully. Sherlock hummed in agreement. ”Good.” He stated, now finally fully naked, his wonderful cock rock hard, pointing towards you. He walked closer, you moved on the bed but not changing your position. ”Now on your fours.” He said.

”Aren’t you going to uncut me?” You asked truly surprised. You longed to touch him. You longed to turn over and kiss him, bury your finger in his hair and pull him close. You heard Sherlock chuckle. ”You didn’t really think I was done with your punishment, did you?” Your eyes flew open. He knew how much you hated to be bound to the bed when he did give you your release. So this was it. This was one of his punishments. And you had thought it had been the riding crop. Stupid you.

”I did mention knowing you would get aroused by the riding crop before. This is your real punishment. You have been a very bad girl and I think your release will be rewarding enough. No need to untie you, maybe now my naughty girl will learn.” He purred and you cursed, but just inside of your head. You knew now that you had crossed a line. Why did you have to tease him so?

”Please, Sherlock, I promise I’ll be good from now on! Just please, untie me!” You pleaded as Sherlock positioned himself behind you. He put his hands on your ass that was now in the air, your legs slightly spread. ”No. You need to become more obedient and if I am to back away from my methods you will never learn. Now, embrace your reward, love. Next time I even might let you lay on your back.” And he thrusted in. You moaned louder than expected, your hands pulling the cuffs. You were sure you would have awful bruises on your wrists by the morning.

Sherlock pulled out slowly, then thrusted back in, his nails digging deep into your flesh as he pounded into you in a way that made you scream from pleasure. He was rough with you, his right hand finding it’s way in your hair and grasping it, pulling your head back as he thrusted. It didn’t take you long to come, and Sherlock came right after you, pulling out and spreading his cum over your holes and running down your thighs. You tried to even your breathing, your head hit the pillows, Sherlock retreating from you and laying next to you, opening the cuffs for you so you could lay down next to him.

Sherlock pulled you to his embrace, hugged you and kissed you. You snuggled close to him, both of you sweaty and still out of breath. Sherlock was first to talk, ”I hope I didn’t hurt you too much.” He whispered. You shook your head. ”No, just the right amount.” You admitted. ”I really didn’t intend to be so ruthless.” Sherlock told you, but he didn’t sound so sincere as he had intended. ”It’s alright, as long as you let me use the crop next time.” You chuckled, your eyes starting to close. Sherlock laughed at that and said, ”Didn’t I tell you that next time, it will be you, once again cuffed to the bed on your back?”

”You were serious?” You asked, your eyes opening. Your boyfriend laughed at your puzzled expression. ”Of course I was serious. Your punishment is far from over.” He explained and kissed the top of your head. ”You fucking sociopath.” You sighed.

Operation Henderson and Harrington Pt. 1 ~ Mini-Series

Summary: The kids take it upon themselves to test their matchmaking skills. With a little help, they form a plot to get you and Steve together by Halloween.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x (Henderson!You) Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Language! Mostly from Dustin.

A/N: It is almost 1 am over here but I had to post this and get it out of my system. This is going to be a mini-series! Part one is posted below and I will update over the next few days :) Give me some feedback! xoxo

Part One ~ Part Two ~ Part Three ~ Part Four ~ Part Five ~ Part Six ~ Part Seven FINALE


There would never be a normal Halloween in Hawkins, Indiana. The kids would always be doing something whether it be fighting off some monsters, or saving their best friend, or getting their two favorite teens to finally date.

“We can’t tell them that we came up with this,” Dustin insisted as he looked at the group.

He sat around a table with Mike, El, Will, Lucas and Max. The group was gathered in Mike’s basement as they tried to come up with a foolproof plan on getting you, Y/N Henderson, and Steve Harrington to finally date. Halloween was coming up and that was the deadline.

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room for two- jjk(m)

Originally posted by rapmonsexpensivegirl

summer in New York has never been so hot.

(m)-mature / 6.5k words / roomate!jungkook / happy reading !

reqs;  jungkook accidental roommate smut? u accidentally buy the same apartment (it happens in dramas often) (+)  Can I request switch!jungkook smut? Like he starts out submissive and then bOOM! He’s dominant af


Summer in New York had never been more depressing. Or hot. Every step outside seems to melt the flesh from your bones, every memory you had of him peeled another layer off your heart. It had been three months of pure hell and although the heat made the thought of being close to anyone impossibly unbearable, you’d give anything to hold him in your arms again. But he had cheated on you, left you, and the best thing to do was move on. Or at least try.

The weather forecast predicted a humid rain, clouds shrouding the ominous sky and a layer of mystery covering the roof of your new home. Or the new home you’d be sharing with four other people. This is supposed to be the city of new beginnings and independent lives. Where one can explore themselves through the city. But sadly, as a transferred college student, the only thing you could afford was a share house in the middle of Brooklyn.  

Sucking in a deep breath, you grunt while lugging your large suitcase and duffel up the short set of stairs, banging on the door somewhat gracefully with your elbow. Almost immediately, as if you’d been waited upon, the door unlatches and an older, thinner woman appears. Her skin is somewhere between tan and gold, wrinkle lines around her eyes and mouth. The hair atop her head is swirled into an artful bun, small wisps of white-gray hair escaping the masterpiece.

“Just on time,” her voice is sweet, slow, and welcoming, stepping aside and waving you in.

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All I’ve got II pt. 4

Jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, ANGST, smut!!, bestfriend!jungkook

word count: 13k


Jeon Jungkook was a tall guy, handsome with all those ethereal artwork tattooed on his arms..and your best friend. He was by your side whereas you faced a painful heartbreak, caressing your hurt soul for as long as you needed him. But how much can a friendship withstand if one of the two develops feelings?

or

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anonymous asked:

Viktor is one of those guys who can act like a Prince in public, and when he’s alone he sort of forgets himself. He talks to himself, walks around his place nude, will spend HOURS painting his nails, and plays little songs on pieces of furniture- all because he’s been alone so long. ((He still forgets himself when he and Yuuri are sharing their apartment. Yuuri falls in love with him a little more everytime he catches Viktor aggressively thumping his hands against the table to “we will rock you”

omg i love this


Yuuri is pretty sure he will never get tired of learning about Victor Nikiforov. 

He knew it back then when he was a teenager, excited to get his hands on the new magazine that featured Victor’s latest interview—and is sure of it now when he gets to wake up in the same bed, call him love and gaze lovingly at the golden ring around his finger.

Truth is: Victor Nikiforov is a fascinating man, complex and deep and Yuuri turns out to be a passionate student on all things about his Victor.

It had been a slow work in progress since the moment Victor set foot in Hasetsu, and Yuuri doubted he would ever get to learn everything about him. There was the initial shock—Victor Nikiforov? In my home?—that took some getting used to, and the amazement that followed that surprise that blurred his scientific observations in the following days (or rather, weeks). But Yuuri Katsuki is a competent researcher, avid learner, an observant person. Nothing escapes his meticulous eyes when it comes about Victor Nikiforov.  

Well… some things, actually. Yuuri is but a human. 

It’s easy to tell that Victor is trying his best to act at ease on those first few days, and there’s an irony in it that makes Yuuri laugh in the middle of the night when the realization hits him. Of all people, Victor Nikiforov is nervous around him, the underwhelming Yuuri Katsuki. 

(But there was a reason for Victor to come all this way to coach him, right? Perhaps he shouldn’t be laughing at the man’s nervousness.)

They’re strangers, so it is only natural that they are uneasy around each other at first, right? Victor, Yuuri assumes, is oblivious to his extensive knowledge of his life, and while that should prompt Yuuri with endless conversation starters he feels… paralyzed. After all, it’s the Victor Nikiforov who is sitting across the table sticking his tongue out as he sketches the pattern of Yuuri’s short program on a sheet of paper. He wants to talk, but it is almost intimidating. And his own skittish behavior doesn’t help him so much when Victor tries, in a rather invasive way at first, to get them acquainted.

Turns out being in silence around Victor is a wonderful way of research. He learns so many things that interviews and videos leave out—like how Victor messes his hair when he is stuck on something, and how he keeps talking to himself under his breath and looks at Yuuri in legit surprise as he is not aware that he keeps talking to himself out loud. 

And the more time Yuuri spends with Victor, the closer they grow, and Yuuri learns more things about him. It becomes less about trying to impress each other with who they are and more about building an earnest relationship that mutually helps them grow. The details, habits, are more intimate as Victor opens up, allowing himself to be comfortable around Yuuri and be who he really is. 

It is as gratifying as it is funny. Yuuri takes guessing which music Victor’s fingers are drumming on surfaces as his new favorite hobby. He does it a lot—usually when lost in thought, sometimes humming along as if he’s trying to fill in the silence. He also has the habit of sneezing loudly and burping when he thinks he is alone—which is so very unlike the Victor he knows from the magazines, but so honest and real Yuuri finds himself falling in love for this flawed version of Victor over and over. 

Things escalate to a new level once they start living together in Russia. There they finally have the whole house to themselves, where they can be comfortable around each other all day, and it provides Yuuri with so much more material for his research on Victor Nikiforov.

The contrast between Victor in public and Victor in private is stark. It is as if when they get home, Victor’s social switch is turned off and he becomes unapologetically himself

In public, Victor is much more reserved, polite to the extreme and meticulously elegant. It is impossible to catch him off guard on the camera, and he will always be looking his damned best, both as coach and competitor. He is all smiles and pleasantries, being respectful to skaters, journalists, and fans alike. 

Public Victor doesn’t pick his nose, sings off-key or plays imaginary drums while waiting for the press to ask questions. 

But once they set foot back home it’s a matter of minutes until Yuuri finds him drumming his fingers on the kitchen counter as he tries to recall what he needs to cook dinner. Once they set foot back home, the song-humming starts almost immediately, and Yuuri barely notices himself humming along as they greet Makkachin, doing the backing vocals to the song they had been listening to in the car. 

Yuuri barely notices picking up on Victor’s habits at all. It just kind of happens—one morning he vaguely realizes he’s not ashamed of walking nude around the house anymore, and it only hits him when Victor waggles his eyebrow at him—and Yuuri can’t help his surprise when Victor starts singing the song Yuuri had been drumming on the table as he scrolled through his Instagram feed one morning. 

For a fleeting moment, Yuuri wonders when he has started picking up on Victor’s habits like that, but that question dissipates as he joins Victor in their terrible, off-key and unapologetic singing that eventually progresses into a dance-off while they get ready for practice. It doesn’t matter, for in that moment yet another fascinating fact about Victor Nikiforov is revealed to him, and his curiosity is provoked again.

Is Victor Nikiforov aware that he knows and executes pop singers’ choreographies flawlessly while dancing around the house?

say you won’t let go | 02

↳ part 01 | part 02 [final]

Summary: You’ve been eighteen years old for ten years when Jungkook first moves in.
Pairing: Jungkook | Reader
Genre: Fluff/Angst; Roommate/Soulmate AU (In which you stop aging when you turn 18 until you meet your soulmate) 
Word Count: 9,494

.

The next morning, you show up to work very early and very unannounced. Namjoon raises an eyebrow at your presence, having not expected you until later in the afternoon, but he must see a look in your eyes that you cannot figure out yourself, because he doesn’t speak about it. He simply lets you work, pretending as if the stress and anxiety isn’t threatening to eat you out alive as you shuffle back and forth across the floor.

You appreciate this, and are glad that Namjoon is selecting not to comment on your behavior, while it might be off-putting and slightly abnormal, it helps you stay distracted. In truth, leaving early for work had been a very conscious decision on your part, since it wasn’t necessarily putting a damper on your sleep schedule—you had only managed about an hour of proper before spending the rest of the evening just shifting about in your bed or pacing around the room.

Jungkook had still been sleeping around the 7:00 hour, which was perfectly fine with you. The conversation from the previous night plagues your mind if you let yourself stand still for too long, and you worry that if you were to look the boy in the eye right now while the feelings are still fresh, he would figure out what was on your mind immediately. You try to convince yourself that Jungkook doesn’t remember the conversation, that those things have just turned into faded and blurry specs in his memory, which helps in your distraction. It helps lessen your apprehension. With the potential of Jungkook pulling up a blank on his conversation with you, it leaves you believing that the simple factor of time was what you needed. It would give Jungkook the space to sleep off his hangover, as it would give you the space to sort through your own emotions and to train yourself into pretending that last night simply had not happened.

According to Hoseok, it’s not a very good plan. And he’s right. Your plans usually always have a way of coming back to bite you back on the ass. But you’re stubborn and afraid; the combination more than enough to control you into believing that this would be the best response to the situation.

Hoseok just shakes his head.

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Some random headcannons because I love thinking about this stupid dysfunctional family

- Noodle wears everyone’s clothes

- yes even Russels even tho the shirts literally swallow her

- Murdoc roams around the house at night bc he cant sleep and checks up on the bandmates to make sure theyre ok

- no one knows about that and Murdoc wants to keep it that way

- 2D loves sweets and the rest of the band try and hide them from him because otherwise he’ll eat them all in one sitting (boy needs to take care of the teeth he has left)

- 2D loved carrying Noodle around when she was little. Now shes nearly too big and hes really sad about it.

- Russel drums his fingers on every surface ever and it drives Murdoc crazy

- 2D has sung Noodle to sleep so many times when she was little

- murdoc has too and Noodle loved his singing just as much as 2D’s

- 2D has glasses

- Noodle was super close with Del. Second only to Russel

- Russel would sometimes take naps only because little Noodle wanted to see Del.

- Murdoc is reaching a point in phase 4 where he appreciates his band so much and he’s trying to show it. Trying. We all know that this man is The Worst

Carousel | 05

Playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09

➤ Character: Min Yoongi x reader 

➤ Genre/words: Angst, Implied smut, Arranged Marriage! AU / 10,491 words

➤ Summary: He is the successor of his family’s business empire, and you are the female heir of yours. After the trouble his older brother had created in the past, he now must face certain requirements needed for the sake of the family’s future and to save his rights of inheritance, and you become his only way out. Everything might seem so simple, just the way they are supposed to. But everything isn’t always what it seems, is it?


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Weird/Fun Places for Sigils✨

Sigils are so much fun, man, and there are thousands of uses and places to put them. Personally, I’m a big fan of ones that are a bit more hidden, just because it gets tiring to have to explain to everyone what it is, and sometimes they relate to personal things. 

Here are some suggestions for places to put sigils and their possible meanings!

  1. Under your study/work desk to enhance motivation and to promote calmness
  2. On your keychain! Use the little name tags that you always seem to randomly have, and charge it to protect your home when you use the keys on the keychain :)
  3. Makeup bottles/containers, to help with glamours and self-confidence
  4. Nametags–some dorms have nametags on the doors. Try writing a protection sigil on the backside of it, so whoever enters your room means you no harm (and so you don’t get robbed, which has been happening a lot in my dorm lmao yikes)
  5. Textbooks! Sigils for letting everything you read fully sink into your brain!
  6. Notebooks, either for school or for other things! For when you’re reviewing for a test, or to make sure that your notes are organized and easy to understand.
  7. On your water bottle
  8. SNAPCHAT YOUR SIGILS!! I know this isn’t necessarily a place, but snapchatting to your coven/friends is an easy and efficient way of getting sigils to them fast. Screenshotting them is a possible way to charge them, too.
  9. If you’re feeling particularly crafty, some mechanical pencils have enough space that you can slip a piece of paper into them! Create your sigil, slip it into your pencil, and charge it or feel its effects as you write
  10. Another crafty place, if you’re so inclined, is the inside of your jackets/sweaters. You can sew a sigil into the inner layer of your jacket, hidden from view but still on your person :)
  11. More sewing! If you’re feeling EVEN MORE adventurous and artsy, make a quilt/blanket and imbue it with peaceful sigils
  12. Under your cups/on drink coasters (Like how Rylee does with this tea recipe)
  13. Backpaaaacks. To help make sure you never forget an assignment or lose anything
  14. Slip a sigil into your pillowcase for good dreams and fitful sleep, or even under your roommate’s bed to try to encourage them to have a restful sleep so they don’t wake you up (can you tell I’m a bit bitter)
  15. You can put them behind posters, too, for when you want a sigil to affect the room but don’t want people to keep asking questions about it.
  16. On your medication bottles, or those little weekly planning things for your medicine, so you don’t forget to take them and remember to refill them before you run out!
  17. On the corners of flashcards, to help you remember what you’re studying
  18. In the front of your book of shadows! To keep away nosy people, to ensure your spells/rituals will retain their powers when redone, or to help you remember what that darn shorthand you used means
  19. When I’m feeling nervous on the bus or any other public place, I draw out sigils just with my finger on any surface, focusing on not letting anyone bother me or get too close
  20. In the glove compartment of your car!
  21. On your laptop, so it may never crash and have you lose hours’ worth of work :’)))

I could honestly go on and on, and there would still be things I’m forgetting. Feel free to add more ideas!! It’s always so fun seeing where people put their sigils :)

-Em

little things

requested: can you make an imagine where Tom cheats on his gf and he wants to get back together but he randomly meets the reader (y/n) who is willing to help him get his gf back but he ends up falling for the reader instead

summaryTom is down on his luck with his relationships, the last one blowing up in his face right in the middle of your coffee shop. He turns to an unlikely stranger for help–you. However, after you agree to help him, he finds himself falling for the unlikely stranger instead.  

word count: 2k

pairings: tom holland x reader

warnings: none

a/n: depending on how popular this one gets, i might turn it into another series. we’ll see!! i couldn’t write tom cheating on someone because i dont have the heart to so i tweaked it a tiny bit i hope thats okay  // not my gif // i also tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible


Each time you woke up in the morning, you knew it was going to be a good day–simply because you refused to have a bad one. You sang in the shower, danced while you got dressed, whistled while you put up your hair. It was like you always had happy music playing in your mind, you radiated positivity. And what better job for someone who radiated such happiness? A humble cafe owner in New York City.

You waved to the usuals who were in your shop nearly every day–the familiar faces causing your heart to bloom open like a flower in spring. You donned your apron with a beautiful smile, greeting your employees and began taking orders.

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Lance ships and acrylic nails head canons

So, this was a while back, (again on the Lance server, because I spend all my time on discord now apparently) but I decided I wanted to share this with everyone anyway.


It all started when @candywii666 said the magic words:


“I wonder if lance get’s acrylics
Who am I kidding of corse he does
But like the space acrylics so they stay on longer and meld to the nail instead of just super duper glued
Filling them in takes like 20 dobashes total because the longest part is getting them put on cause they have to make sure it fuses to the nail right”


And I instantly jumped on this because we had all just been talking about my own nails. So, I came up with how different ship partners (read: literally everyone I could think of) would react to Lance with facy acrylic nails.



  • Keith teases him about it at first, but then won’t let him go back to normal nails because he *L O V E S* the way they feel when Lance scratches his back when they fuck.


  • Shiro enjoys the look, and the gentle scrapes of just barely touching his arm or chest.


  • Lotor has his own claws and helps Lance to file his nails into perfect pointed tips so he has a flawless set too.


  • Hunk helps Lance paint them and so always tends to pin Lance’s arms above his head just to be careful not to ruin them.


  • Matt loves the feel of it when Lance runs them up and down his spine


  • Sven thinks they’re pretty but doesn’t quite get the appeal until he feels them against his scalp in his hair.


  • Kolivan fell in love with them as soon as Lance started running his hands through his fur while they were cuddling


  • Antok likes it when Lance gently scratches his tail with them


  • Thace enjoys the feel of them on his thighs


  • Ulaz likes the noise they make when Lance nervously drums his fingers on hard surfaces, but also how they apply just the barest hint of an edge when they hold hands


  • Lance himself enjoys running his nails up and down his chest and legs, leaving red lines on his skin in his wake, he especially likes drawing patterns on his stomach with the lines to admire while they last for a few hours.



If I get permission from Candy I’ll post the rest of that conversation, but this was the main part I wanted to share. Imagine any ships you want!


Also, if you wanna join the fun, let us know, the more the merrier.

keep quiet (m)

Originally posted by nnochu

pairings: jungkook x reader

genre: smut and ceo!au

word count: 3,473

a/n: im back after like a 4 month break lolol !! this is for @jinxkook​ idk how i wrote this and yeah lemme cry for a bit. (ignore this part if you wanna but here’s a lil disclaimer)

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anonymous asked:

"Did you steal this?" Marichat

This drabble is dedicated to my birthday buddy, @captaincrazytwistnotreally! I hope your day is full of fantastic adventures! <3


“Did you steal this?” 

Chat Noir put an offended hand to his chest. “I’m a superhero, Princess. How dare you?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t actually answer the question, you know.”

“I didn’t steal it,” he replied, rolling his eyes. He held out the bolt of fabric. “Take it.”

Marinette eyed him suspiciously before taking the fabric. She danced her fingers lightly over the surface. “Chat, this is really expensive stuff.” She looked up at him shyly. “You bought this for me?”

He held up a finger. “Technically all I said was I didn’t steal it,” he corrected, “but yeah, it’s for you. Happy Birthday, Princess,” he grinned.

“How did you…” she trailed off, studying his face. “You’re a sly kitty, aren’t you?”

“I have my ways.”

Marinette returned her attention to the fabric. “This is so beautiful and way, way too much.”

“I thought maybe you could use it for that dress you were talking about. The one for the party coming up?”

“Adrien’s party?” Marinette shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

“Why not? I’ve seen your designs. They’re great!”

“I don’t know. I would feel like I was trying to show off or something,” she blushed.

“You should show off.”

“Yeah, but maybe Adrien’s first official birthday party isn’t the place to do it,” she countered. “It should be about him. He deserves all the spotlight.”

“I don’t think that’s really the issue here.”

Marinette pursed her lips. “What if I make the dress and Gabriel Agreste doesn’t like it? That would be embarrassing. And I’m going to be nervous enough without having to worry if my favorite designer likes something I made.”

Chat Noir frowned. “Why are you going to be nervous already?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Not doing this.”

“Oh, come on! You can tell me.” He blinked innocent kitty eyes at her.

She scrunched her nose. “You promise not to laugh?”

“Cross my heart.”

Her cheeks darkened. “IhaveacrushonAdrien.”

“You what?”

Marinette huffed, squeezing her eyes shut. “I have a crush on Adrien,” she repeated slowly. She opened one eye and frowned at Chat Noir’s expression. “You promised you wouldn’t laugh!” she warned. 

He swallowed. “You have a crush on Adrien?”

“Big, massive, ‘I’m drowning, please help’ crush,” she sighed, sinking down to the lounger. “But I’m pretty sure he only sees us as friends.”

“Make the dress.”

“What?”

Chat Noir knelt down. “Make the dress, Marinette. And if Adrien notices, you’ll know he likes you.”

“How?”

“Just trust me.”

“And what if he doesn’t notice?” she asked quietly.

Chat Noir put a gentle hand under her chin, tipping her face up. “Then he won’t be worth your time.” He watched her for a moment, tempted to lean forward for a kiss. He stood instead, brushing imaginary dust off his suit. “You’ve got a dress to create and I’ve got a city to patrol.” He offered her a hand and she took it, standing on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek. 

“Thanks for my birthday present, Kitty,” she smiled. She picked up the bolt of fabric and carefully dropped down through the skylight.

Chat Noir touched his cheek dreamily. “Don’t mention it,” he sighed.


Prompt List :)

Buy Me a Coffee? <3

wicked games [6]

Summary: A relationship’s survival is dependent on communication. What happens when you find out Tom’s only manner of communicating is nonexistent?

Pairing: CEO!Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Dry humping, substance abuse; minor violence; excessive use of the word ‘fuck’.

Word Count: 7,253 [I seriously can’t stop myself]

A/N: Oh. Did I forget to mention this series was a slow burn? || Dedicated to @stvharrington because this series and I would be nothing without her.

series masterlist

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soratori42  asked:

what if rey had taken kylo's hand in the throne room?

Christmas Drabble! 


His fingers twitch between them, the glove he wears shielding his sallow skin from the fiery open air of the throne room. 

Rey feels as if her heart has been torn from her chest. She had seen his future, Ben Solo standing beside her in the light, his powerful arm wound around her waist, his full lips-

It doesn’t matter now, what she had seen. Ben Solo - Kylo Ren - is looking at her expectantly. His wide, sable eyes are wet with tears yet unshed. Rey can feel the desperation pulsing between them like a third heart, taking on a life of its own. He wants so terribly for her to take his hand. She yearns for him to change his mind, to lay down his foolish ambitions and call off the attack on the Resistance transports.  

Please.”  He chokes, the wet streaks over his cheeks mirroring her own. 

Her eyes drop to his hip, where he clutches her saber, Luke’s saber, Anakin Skywalker’s saber, in his other hand. Rey wets her lips with her tongue her fingers twitching at her side. She remembers the moment she had first brushed her fingers over its metallic surface; the images, premonitions that had passed fleetingly but vividly behind her eyes. The same as when she had touched Ben’s fingers and seen their shared future play out. 

Perhaps that future was gone, buried beneath the heft of some past decision or triviality; another path closed to them. 

There is only one way for her to be certain that Ben Solo is dead. 

“Take off your glove, Ben.” She breathes, eyes never wavering from his hand. 

His dark eyebrows draw up, wrinkling his brow with confusion. He looks between Rey and his extended hand then relents, carefully gauging her reaction as he clips the saber to his belt and shakily reaches to remove the leather garment from his hand. 

The moment might’ve lasted eons. It seems such a painstaking task; the simple act of removing a glove now the pinnacle of kairos. Everything hinges on this moment, they both know it, the knowledge sparks in the air between them, their wills warring against one another. Both knowing what she will find. Each disagreeing with the other’s conclusion. 

Once his hand is freed he lets the article drop to the floor with a muffled smack. 

Rey doesn’t hesitate, she doesn’t wait for permission. She lurches for his hand, their minds melding before he has the chance to shield or alter his thoughts and Rey sees ruin.

A galaxy burns behind her eyelids; planets eviscerated, cultures wiped from existence, the blood of millions dripping over the polished incline of a red tinted dais; and seated upon the bloodlet throne is a man so familiar yet unrecognizable. A tyrant, a demon clothed in a human skin scowling down unto a reality that will never truly bend to his will, that shall never fully conform to those standards that he holds. But damn him, he will persist. 

Rey collapses, her knees splitting in pain as they scrape against the unyielding ground. Despair wracks her to her very core, the center of her being is overwhelmed by a wave of despondent grief and she wails, still clutching his hand in her own. 

He sinks to the floor in front of her, his face ruddy from sobbing, and he begs; “Please, Rey. I wouldn’t see you suffer along with the Resistance. Come with me, join me.” 

Rey tears her hands away from him, rising swiftly to her feet and retreating several steps, suddenly flooded with a new, steely resolve. She steadies herself with three deep, centering breaths. Breathe, just breathe.

No future is certain, nothing is set in stone. What she had seen was the fate of Kylo Ren, not Ben Solo. She must get him to Leia, his mother will make him see that there is hope yet for this galaxy. 

“No, Kylo Ren,” She dictates, “I will not join you.” 

He slowly rises, boots slamming heavy against the ground. His fists clench at his sides and his eyes are alight with a new vindictive flame that should frighten her; but it only serves to further her own desire to save what little of Ben Solo remains; what she had seen in the hut that night, had felt in the warmth of his skin against her own. 

Rey angles her body towards him, offering her own hand in the way he had offered his minutes before. “Join me, Ben,” she appeals with a passion that brings wetness back into her red rimmed eyes, “Come with me. Let me show you that the galaxy isn’t so lost yet, that it can still be salvaged. Your decision isn’t truly made, not yet. What I saw– that doesn’t have to be your fate.” She swallows around a wide, painful lump in her throat as he hesitates, lips parted in surprise and utter confoundment. 

Is he still so uncertain? She makes a more personal appeal, one that sets her heart to flutter and pinkens her cheeks in a way she cares not to consider; “We can be together this way, Ben. It’s the only way.”

He stalls no longer, stepping forward and reaching for her, enveloping her palm in the rough warmth of his calloused hand. 

They gasp as a new vision flashes between them; a future of blinding grey-white light, and a boy reborn.