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.

Keep reading

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

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.

Carousel | 05

Playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

Character: Min Yoongi x reader (oc)

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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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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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

betsforsythetrash  asked:

Alright Smut Queen, I'm gonna need a continuation of Bugheads make out scene but Betty is turned on by Jugheads new jacket, and maybe she ends up wearing it at some point??

Ok, here it is - the long awaited continuation, I really hope it’s what you wanted. This scene actually ruined me because every time I’m like is this too far??? I just remember what we actually saw and I’m like nope! I’ve sinned, my friends, I’ve sinned.
Warning: so much Bughead smut, all of the smut, a little feeling, but then more smut.

You Build Me Up, Believer


“I love you, Betty Cooper.”

Every inch of her froze, the words echoing in her ears as a silence settled over the trailer. The world felt as if it moved in slow motion as she turned to look at him. His beanie had been thrown casually to the side, leaving his dark, untamed waves ruffled and free. His shoulders were hunched in slightly as if he was braced for impact. But his eyes… Betty had never seen eyes so earnest, so open and giving. 

She took steady, paced out steps towards him, unable to keep the grin from spreading across her features. 

“Jughead Jones,” she whispered, heart racing. “I love you.” She could see the weight lift from his body – she had never felt so light herself, as if this was the last thing that needed to be heard before they could give themselves to one another without interruption, without restraint. Jughead looked almost disbelieving, eyes shining in the dim light. He had never been more thankful for the existence of another human being. 

His hands cupped her cheeks as he bent forwards, kissing her once, twice, letting her know just how grateful he was to have her, to call her his own. She inhaled deeply, pressing her body against the length of his front, fingers placed delicately against his neck. He pulled back to look at her, this beautiful creature in his arms. She was smiling back at him, eyes slightly hooded, lips beginning to swell. He grinned, dipping down to grip her behind and pull her into his arms, revelling in the squeal she let out that rang through the trailer. Her arms wrapped around his neck, steadying herself as she looked down at him, loose, golden waves shrouding them both as they fell over his shoulders. 

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and i don’t know where i’m going but i’m on my way

an: title stolen from the song of the same name, a top forty hit in 1917 because fuck am i predictable.

summary: a steve trevor is alive in the 21st century fic. why? because i want him to be. how? no one cares, he just is.

There are few things in this world that she takes true delight in, anymore. The laugh of a child, the blush of first love between a young couple, the first fall of snow every year - these things make her smile, remind her of a past she takes care not to reminisce on too often, but they do not delight her.

This. This is a delight. 

He picks his way through the room, fingers drumming against every surface he encounters, eyes taking everything in, and she’d always noticed this about him, his attention to detail, his easy acceptance of every outlandish thing before him, the way he paid notice of how things worked. She’d taken him here because she needed proof that she was not being deceived, but instead she finds herself watching the fall of his hair over one eye, the impatient way he brushes it aside only for it to fall straight back into place, like it belongs there; the way he takes a startled step back when the screens blink to life before him, and the way, moments later, his gaze darts to the touchpads on the desk, the quizzical furrow of his brow as he tries to puzzle out how it all works.

“You wanna explain to me why there’s a dead man wandering the Bat Cave?”

Diana turns her head to catch sight of Bruce out of the corner of her eye, watches him as he carefully moves too stand beside her. The corner of her mouth slides up and she shakes her head back and forth, once, twice, before returning her eyes to the bank of screens and the man standing before them.

“No.”

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3

Take Me Away (Joker x Reader)

“Imagine being an inmate in Arkham Asylum and seducing your new blue-eyed doctor to help you escape.”

Requested by @arkhamstates: “Can you write an au where the joker is the reader’s psychiatrist in Arkham asylum? (or any other thing, just the joker is the good guy and the reader is the bad guy xD)

Warnings: Minor violence.


Arkham Asylum.

How does someone describe such a place? The view that you had from your small bared window was horrible. The food was disgusting and mushy. The beds were hard and uncomfortable. Not to mention that the guards were assholes.

You rocked back and forth in your chair, your arms were restrained in the tight material of the straight jacket that you had been forced into. The rain pounded against the windows and walls as you patiently waited. You could hear the voices from the other side of the door and then the door opened. You expected to see the ugly face of your doctor, but you were pleasantly surprised.

“Sorry for the wait.”

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Lose Yourself // Jeff Atkins

A/N: I know it’s not in order of the prompt list, but this is the one I had inspiration for, and the only one I’ve felt proud of in a while.

Named After:  There’s literally one line in here that made me think “Mom’s spaghetti”


“Best three out of five!” Clay whined.

The two of you had rock, paper, scissored over who was on bathroom duty for the end of both of your shifts. The alternative and clearly better option was working the concession.

“C’mon Jensen, I won twice…” 

You couldn’t hide the grin on your face. You’d lost this game for about two weeks straight between him and Hannah. 

“Out of five.” 

“Out of three. The mop is in the closet.”

Clay rolled his eyes, sighing as he went into the back room. Hannah, on the other hand, was working the ticket booth. A job, the three of you had already pulled straws for. 

You smiled to yourself watching Clay sulk away when you moved behind the counter. 


Ten minutes left in your shift and it was going pretty well, not as busy as it normally was on a Friday night, no screaming middle schoolers, no crying babies, just you, the popcorn machine, and the elderly couples that pulled at your heart strings.

You’d been dating Jeff Atkins for four years before everything went to shit. Before you’d caught him, tongue down some cheerleader’s throat, hand on her ass, touching her like he’d touched you the night before.

The worst part about losing Jeff was that you not only lost your boyfriend. You lost your best friend. You lost the only person in the world who knew you inside out, who knew that you’d once seen Mamma Mia seven times in one week, who knew that your ultimate dream job was to be second string at the World Cup, who knew that when you were angry you were ruthless. 

He tried. He tried calling, texting, tried to catch you at your shifts at work. But you were just as cold as he expected. You blocked his number and changed your whole schedule just to avoid him. 

Truth be told, seeing him with someone else, it broke you. 

You were in love with him. And he chose someone else. 

So you deleted any and all memories of him. Couple photos, trashed. Best friend photos, in a box in the back of your closet. All of his clothing over the years, returned.

It was hard, to say the least. Hard to be so cold to someone who once gave you so much warmth. You’d given up on love ever since.


The buzz of your phone in your back pocket pulled you out of your vacant stare. You glanced around, making sure your supervisor wasn’t anywhere near before checking your text.

Hannah Banana Baker: Head’s up. He who shall not be named in 30 seconds.

Your head shot up from your phone to see the boy standing across from you. 

“Wow… I’m Voldemort now, huh?” Jeff teased, eyes glancing up from your screen as he tried to lighten the mood between the two of you.

He looked…good. Nowhere near as if he’d been crying for two weeks straight like you did. Say something. He was wearing his letterman jacket. The one you considered keeping because it made you feel just as safe as Jeff did. Say something. You could tell he was getting a haircut in a few days. He always let it flop down, covering his forehead, a few days before. Just so he didn't “waste product on hair that was getting cut”. Say something. You always liked it a little better that way. When he didn’t look so perfect. Say something!

A breathy, “Hey.” falls from your lips before you could think of a witty response to his question.

“Hey.” Jeff offers you a sheepish smile, as though to somehow pull attention away from the fact that you hadn’t seen him outside of school, where you avoided him.

“Hey.”

“No yeah, you said that.” he laughs, briefly. His eyes trying to connect with yours.

You glanced over at the girl, the girl, who stole him from you, holding onto his arm, trying to ignore the whole interaction. What did she have that you didn’t? You knew him better than anyone. You were the perfect girlfriend. 

“Y/N?” 

Your eyes snapped back to him and you let out a fake cough.

“Yeah. Hey.”

“I thought we already did that.” 

“Right. Um- what would you like?” you offered, trying to swallow down the golf ball sized lump in your throat. 

You glance away from him, fingernails, nervously, tapping at the glass below.

“I’ll take-”

“Fries and an Arnold Palmer.” you interrupt. “What is she having?” you tilt your head over in her direction.

Jeff’s mouth opens a little bit, and for some stupid reason, he’s surprised you remembered what he liked. He thought you’d deleted everything about him.

“Y/N WHERE ARE THE-” Clay shouts from across the room, only stopping himself when he sees the baseball player. “Jeff. Hey!”

“What’s up man” Jeff replies casually. As if he wasn’t prolonging the most awkward moment of your life. 

“Nothing, I’m good…Y/N you wanna do out of five?”

For once in your life, you were happy to say that Clay Jensen was not oblivious to feelings. 

You shook your head, determined you could get through this, but offered the boy a smile for being so considerate. 

“Okay…um- gloves?” 

“Top shelf, to the right.”

You turned your attention back to the baseball player who had broken your heart, who was now whispering to his…new girlfriend.

“Babe, you wanna grab us some seats. I’ll just meet you inside?” Jeff asked, more of a forced suggestion than a thoughtful question.

She nodded quickly, placing a kiss on his cheek before heading into theater number 3. 

He turned back to you once she was out of sight, hand running through his already messy hair. 

“Can we talk?” he asked.

Jeff was going out on a limb here. He hadn’t heard from you since you left his stuff on his porch and told him to never talk to you again. For fucks sake, he missed you. He missed you so much it hurt. 

He made a mistake, a huge one. And honestly, the girl, whose name was Alyssa or Alexis, he could never remember, was nothing more than a rebound. 

You sighed, gritting your teeth. “What does she want, Jeff.” 

You didn’t want to talk about it. It had been two months since you’d last talked to him, and now he had you near tears with just his presence. 

Jeff’s fingers gripped the surface between the two of you as he tried to break through the walls you had set up.

“Please. Y/N.” 

His voice broke, mid-sentence, and you wanted nothing more than to hold him and never let go. But you knew better than that. So you huffed, blinking back the tears at the brim of your eyes, and asked him the same question once more. 

“What- What does she want.”

“I want you back.”

You swore your heart stopped beating when you heard those words. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t get to come in here, throw his feelings on the table, and leave you to wipe away at the tears now falling down your face.

You turned away from him, moving to get him the fries he always ordered.

“You’re on a date right now, Jeff, are you fucking kidding me.” 

The three packets of ketchup, landed right next to the box, as you threw them onto the counter.

“I- I know- I just, I haven’t been able to talk to you Y/N. I miss you. I miss you so fucking much and-”

You drowned out the sound of his stupid apology as you filled his cup halfway with ice. The soda machine hummed as you focused on filling his drink exactly the way he used to like it. 60% Lemonade. 40% Iced Tea.

Jeff clenched his jaw, waiting for you to finish before attempting to talk to you again. 

“And- and I just want you in my life again. Girlfriend. Best friend. Mortal Enemy. I’ll take anything. I just want you, need you, to come back.”

You bit your lip, hoping it would stop you from crying as hard as you knew you wanted to. You placed his drink on the counter and moved to fill a medium bag of popcorn for his date, Alyssa Callahan. You may or may not have stalked her after the rumor spread around school that they were hooking up.

“I miss my girlfriend who would always play at least one NSYNC song when she had control of the aux cord. I miss the best friend that stayed up with me to help me study. Even though you had a test too. I miss you. I do.” Jeff cried out. 

His palms are sweaty. Jeff never had to beg for a girl’s attention in his entire life. But now? Now he’d do anything to have you even just say ‘hi’ in the hallways. He knows it sounds stupid. He knows he’s an asshole for saying all this while you were at work and he was on a date. But this is his one shot, one opportunity, and he was going to take it.

You slammed the bag down, popcorn tumbling down the sides of the bag as you moved to get her a drink. She seemed like a lemonade type of girl. 

Answer me, Y/N.” Jeff pleaded, ignoring how desperate he felt. 

You placed a cap on her drink and moved it with the rest of the food before looking back up at him.

“You know what I miss, Jeff?” you asked, punching a few buttons at the cash register. 

“I miss. The boy that told me-” you stopped yourself mid-sentence, letting the tears fall freely from your eyes as you pulled a twenty out of your pocket. 

“I miss the boy that told me he loved me…” 

You placed the cash into the register, slamming it shut with a bang. 

“And told me- he would never hurt me.” 

The receipt tore from the machine and crumbled within the fist your hand made. 

“But. Obviously. That’s not you.”

It swished in the trashcan below you, and you shoved everything a few inches closer to Jeff.

Jeff was looking at you, as distressed as you were the day after your break up. His eyes were glazed with tears that had yet to fall, Adam’s apple bobbed as he restrained himself from responding. He picked up everything you’d placed in front of him one at a time. 

“It’s on the house. Enjoy your movie” you emphasize with a forced smile. 

Jeff turns, nodding, knowing that he lost you and enters into the theater. 

It isn’t until you can’t see him, that you walk yourself to the bathroom, lock yourself in a stall, and fall to your knees. Letting out the sobs that were scratching at the back of your throat until your shift ended. 

star-anise  asked:

Can you pls write one of the SMH doing fiber arts?

Why yes I can! Have some Frog bonding.


“I’m sure they’ll let me back into Annie’s by now,” Nursey insisted to Chowder as he knocked on Dex’s door. “The sign incident was ages ago.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure,” Chowder said vaguely, distracted as he was by a text from Cait.

“It’s open,” Dex called.

Nursey opened the door and stuck his head into Dex’s room. “Hey, bro, you wanna go with me and C to…” He trailed off as he actually registered what he was seeing. “What are you doing?”

Dex was seated cross-legged on his bed, some kind of cloth in one hand and a threaded needle in the other, an open box filled with a rainbow of other threads next to him. He looked down at his lap and then back at Nursey like he was a moron. “Cross-stitch? What does it look like?”

Nursey came the rest of the way into the room so he could get a better look. “I wouldn’t know, man, my sister did ballet and my mom doesn’t do crafty shit.”

Chowder looked up from his phone and followed Nursey in, bouncing over to Dex’s side cheerfully. “How cool! What is it?”

“Uh, a fractal.”

“You can make fractals out of thread?!”

Dex cracked a smile. “Yeah, sure.” He handed the fabric on the hoopy thing over to Chowder, who ran a finger over the surface as he studied it intently.

Nursey pulled out Dex’s desk chair and sat down on it backwards, resting his chin on his folded arms. “Why do you do it?”

Dex shot him a suspicious glance. “Because it’s soothing and methodical and more portable than Legos.”

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The Price of Privilege - Part 4 (A Kyungsoo Series)

Genre: Angst / Smut (18+) / Romance / Arranged Marriage / Royalty AU

Characters: Kyungsoo X You

Description: The time has come to marry the man your family has selected to take your hand. As royalty these important matters are arranged for you, but when you meet your soon to be husband, he is nothing like you expected.

The Price of Privilege : part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, Part 6


It wasn’t the weight of his body over your shoulder, or the warmth from him that rested along your side. It wasn’t the sound of his heavy breathing, or the wince of pain you saw in his pretty profile when he stepped too hard on his right foot that humanize him just a little bit in your mind.

No, the part of this that you felt the agonizing truth in, the part that told you deep down in the pit of your stomach where you kept every deep dark secret that could potentially reach up and suffocate you, the part that told you that you were doomed – completely and utterly doomed–

–was his smell.

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Ardent Love (M)

Summary: It is that time of the year when your husband disappears behind his office doors, stacks of papers piled high on his desk, and fails to return home until the wee hours of the morning-if he returns at all. As the days pass by and his side of the bed grows colder, you decide that if he is too busy to come home, you’ll just have to go to him. 
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Smut, romance || Husband/CEO! Yoongi
Word Count: 3,900+
Warnings: office (desk) sex, riding, oral, etc.
For Prompt #2: “Shh, let’s just see how quiet you can be” which was requested by @baepsaewhalien and an anon|| This was meant to just be a drabble…
Other Drabbles

Originally posted by my-eccentric-mind

The door falls shut with a gentle clink, the noise resounding in the small office space and you blink back the nerves and excitement as Yoongi peers up at you from where he is seated behind his large, oak desk, glasses falling gradually down the bridge of his nose. He says nothing at your presence, simply cocks a brow in muted amusement and motions for you to take a seat on the leather couch that is nestled in the small corner of his work space. You follow his instructions silently, heels clicking along the tiled floor as you move over to take a spot on the plush cushions, hands coming to rest on your lap. There is a familiar itch that comes with these meetings, a pleasant buzz of eagerness that lingers just below the surface of your limbs.

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We Can Try That

*Poke head* eeeeeeeeeeeeeey…hi.

So ha! I had a prompt last week (I’m so so sorry) from @goramidiot (again, so so sorry) and they wanted Blind!Lance and HA, yeah only that, and a guide dog, but like, I’m a Weak ass for Klance so *jazz hands* ta-daah?? 

Hope you liked it anyways!!!! It’s prety short? But pretty fluffy, no angst tonight, folks. 

Content: fluff, fluff, fluff, Klance, fluff, Blind Lance, fluff, post war, back on earth. 

Ps. pls excuse any bad grammar or typos? I only did like a quick edit bc that’s all the time I had but like?? …ha, enjoy, yey. 

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me. 


Keith taps his fingers against the surface of the table with an absent rhythm.

He resists the urge to look back at the entrance door of the Café and stare at it as long as it was necessary. He was barely lifting his free hand and guiding it towards his mouth, full intending to bite his nail off, when his phone buzzes on the table and catches his attention.

It’s a text and Keith’s heart skips a beat when he sees the contact’s name.

Five minutes away, omw (:

Four words and one emoji shouldn’t make him giddy but damn, his insides are all mixed up now and he feels like he will be throwing up butterflies any second now. Six years later and he stills feels like a teenager.

Unbelievable.

He unconsciously smiles as he re-reads the message before he drops his hand back to his leg. He let himself to let out a relief breath and leans back on the chair while he twirls the small spoon inside his latte slowly.

He steals a glance to the Frappuccino sitting in front of his own drink and prays for everything out there that he made the right choice when he ordered his date’s drink before he could choose.

Keith’s almost 99.99% sure that he got the drink right; it’s not like he doesn’t know his date’s likes or dislikes, because he do.

Being part of the same team that saves the Universe, and spending every day for six years up in space inside an Altean Castle, is enough to makes you learn about people’s choices on coffee.

Or in Lance’s case: people’s sugary death sentence.

Keith chuckles as he recalls the first time Lance had told the team what he would order the second he was back on Earth, right after seeing his family, of course.

Keith had promised to take him himself, if only to see how a drink such as Lance’s could exist.  

Back then it had been a joke. Back then they had been kids; pure, innocent, naïve and still unmarked by the war they were facing.

Now? Now they have scars in every way possible. They all survived and there’s not a single day where Keith’s not grateful of that fact, but some things–

The door’s bell rings, making a small echo around the silent room, and Keith’s head shots up, heart beating faster at the sight of a familiar tall brunet with dark sunglasses over his eyes and a small but bright smile on his lips.

–some things stay with you for life and turning a blind eye on them doesn’t always work.

“Lance.” Keith calls, standing up from his seat but standing beside the table, fully knowing that Lance preferred it like that.

Lance’s head instantly falls towards Keith’s direction and his smile only widens at Keith’s voice. The brunet lets out a small whistle and starts walking towards him with his trusting guide dog right beside him.

“Why hello there, Red.” Lance says, grinning happily at Keith and the black haired man can’t help but sigh in content as he takes Lance’s hand on his own.

“Hello, hello.” He says quietly, bringing their interlocked hands to his lips and dropping a quick kiss against Lance’s before he leans closer and drops another one on the brunet’s cheek. “Nice walk?”

Lance hums, taking advantage of their proximity and nuzzling his cheek against Keith’s lovingly. “Yep. Vic enjoyed the warm sun, didn’t you, boy?” He says, looking down to where his dog was sitting patiently.

Keith smiles when Vic looks up at his owner’s voice and sticks out his tongue contently.  “Good job, buddy. Thank you.” He praises softly and Lance chuckles.

“I’m thinking you already ordered for me, amor?” Lance asks, arching an eyebrow behind his sunglasses and Keith hums positively.

“Yes, I did order your sugary death, you maniac. You’re welcome.” Keith mumbles, rolling his eyes amusedly.

Lance cheers softly before he cups Keith’s face gently. “Thank you.” He whispers, a breath away from Keith’s lips but instead, he does a small eskimo kiss against Keith’s nose, earning a giggle from his boyfriend.

“Psh. Oh my god, Lance.” Keith laughs trying to push his face away but not really wanting to succeed. “Okay, alright, let’s sit down. You gotta tell me how the trip to Cuba went, love.”

Lance’s face lights up at the mention of his home land and he’s about to open his mouth when Keith cuts him off suddenly.

“Nope, wait.  Aren’t you forgetting something?” He asks and Lance frowns in confusion before his mouth forms a small ‘o’ in realization.

“Amor, are you sure? I don’t want to make you deal with all the stares when people see you with a blind guy.” Lance mumbles biting his lower lip nervously but he still raises his sunglasses up and Keith heart makes a flip when he sees the faint blue color in Lance’s eyes.

His gaze is unfocused, as it has been since the accident, his eyes not moving in the slightest but somehow staring right at Keith.  The black haired man just hums and leans closer, dropping a kiss on the corner of each eye before pulling back.

“They can stare all they want you know why?” He asks, now his turn to cup Lance’s face with his hands and continues when the brunet shake his head slowly. “Because my eyes are only on you.”

Lance blinks and then his bright smile is back on place, making Keith’s heart to fill up with joy and pride that he was able to make that happened.

“Cheesy mullet.” Lance mumbles but still nuzzles his forehead against his boyfriend’s.

Keith answers him with another eskimo kiss.

nightmares & daydreams // stiles stilinski

Summary: Stiles comforts Y/N when she can’t sleep & discovers that nightmares & daydreams may be equally as dangerous 

Requested: no

Pairing: Stiles & Y/N 

Warning: yes, mature language, themes & smut 

Masterlist 

His fingers mindlessly played with her hair as her head rested in his lap. The glow from the television illuminated the room, as it was the only source of light in the pitch black house.

“You tired yet?” He yawned.

“No.” She hummed, struggling to keep her eyes open. Her eyes were heavy with sleep as she tried to pay attention to the blurring tv screen.

“Did you just lie to me?” He smirked, knowing that she was about to fall asleep at any moment.

“Maybe.” She shut her eyes softly as she snuggled closer onto his lap.

“Oh no you don’t.” He told her as he reached for the remote, bouncing his legs up and down startling her. “Don’t you start getting all comfortable now or else you won’t want get up and you’ll end up falling asleep on me again.”

Keep reading

petitminouu  asked:

Ok it's storming hard rn so I present to you- What if somehow the castle had to wait out a thunderstorm on an earth like planet, the power goes out, and when Lance leaves his room to get food, in the dark he slips &falls down stairs, breaks foot, gets sick from pain, and literally has to CRAWL to find help. (Bonus points if someone gets freaked out bc they hear lance's screams as he falls down the stairs but thinks it's a ghost )

Cough. Look man. 

I got nothing. I tested it out. And I WILL finish it with goddamit family fluffiness ok. LAFLUFF WILL RISE.

I wrote this in like fifteen minutes. So, excuse the mistakes. It just popped up in my head.


Lance chokes up and bites his lower lip as he throws his head back, hands hover shakily over his twisted ankle.

The brunet groans before taking a deep breath. ‘In, out, in, out, ow, in, ow, out’

“Okay,” Lance breaths out, “Okay, okay, okay, I got this.”

He moves a little from his place on the floor, testing himself and his injury. He winces in discomfort when his ankle moves at the action but other than that, Lance pats himself on the back for being able to at least sit properly.

“Step one down.” He says, carefully untying the knot of his robe before taking it off, leaving him only in his long sleeve Altean’s pjs. “Time for Step two.”

He hops. He quite literally hops on his butt and then flinches and shakes his head furiously when his ankle doesn’t supports his way of transportation.

“Yep, nope.” Lance declares, sighing shakily and closing his eyes to control his breathing, trying to ignore the sharp pain, “Dragging my ass back to the room,  it is.”

“I’m telling you, Shiro! Something out here screamed so loud that it woke me up.” Lance‘s head raises as soon as Keith’s voice echoes just around the corner from where he sits.

“Keith, your theory is that the castle is still haunted,” Shiro answers tiredly and Lance can easily hear how he stiffens in a yawn, “Which, by the way, was never haunted in the first place.”

“Thousand Years Old War Castle and you want me to believe there are no spirits of Alteans left behind inside this walls.” Keith deadpans and Shiro hums noncommittally.

“Um, guys?” Lance tries, not wanting to miss his chance just in case the pair leaves before they see him, “I think I’m the ghost this time. I might need a little help.”

“Lance?” Shiro questions, hurrying on his feet and Lance feels a spark of relief when his leader appears in his vision. “Lance, what happened?” He asks worriedly as soon as he takes in the state the brunet’s in.

“I might have fell.” Lance shrugs, appreciating the grounding presence of Shiro’s hand on his shoulder, offering a weak smile to lighten up the mood.

Keith snorts by his side. “Might have?” He repeats flatly but still crouches down besides his brother, taking note of the brunet’s injury with a concerned and serious frown, “Where does it hurt?”

“Ankle.” Lance mumbles, slightly wincing when Keith’s fingers trace the surface of his skin carefully and waves off the teen’s soft apology.

“Looks twisted, a little swollen.” Keith hums, raising his gaze to catch Shiro’s eyes, “What do you think?”

“I think someone should have taken their flashlight if they wanted a snack.” Shiro mumbles, poking Lance’s temple disapprovingly.

Lance waves his hand away. “Sure, blame the poor injured Paladin.”

“Alright, come on, then. Let’s go to my room, I have a couple of ice bags there and a few bandages.” Shiro declares, nodding at Keith before turning to Lance, “We’re going to help you stand up, alright? Try to keep your ankle high, ready?”

Lance bites his lips, hesitates and then sighs when Shiro squeezes his shoulder in comfort. “Yes, yes, I’m ready.”

Two tries, and a few sudden pained screams from Lance, before they are able to stand properly, both Shiro and Keith on either side of Lance as they stay close to the brunet, holding him up high enough for him to maintain his ankle high.

“Doing good?” Shiro asks and waits patiently while Lance grunts and breaths through his nose.

“Peachy,” Lance breaths out after a few seconds, a shaky playful smile over his lips and making an ‘Ok’ sign over Keith’s shoulder, “I’m good.”

“There it was again, Pidge! You will eat your words once I prove to you that the castle is haunted again!” Hunk’s voice suddenly appears, full body turning around the corner where the trio still stands quietly.

Hunk’s victory smirk falls as soon as he sees his teammates and then he frowns in concern when he notices the way Lance is hanging in the middle of Keith and Shiro.

“Hey, bro, you okay? What happened?” He asks, hurrying his way towards them and scanning every body part of his best friend.

Lance chuckles warmly at him. “It’s okay Hunk, I just fell because I couldn’t see where I was going. I’m good.”

“You were screaming like a dying whale, Lance, I don’t call that good.” Pidge announces flatly behind Hunk, the light coming from her tablet adding more vision of their surroundings.

She makes her way towards the team and purses her lips. “Are you sure you are okay?”

Lance smiles, soft and genuine at his team’s concern. “I’m okay, Pidgey.”

“Alright, come on guys, we can’t stand in the middle of the hall all night. Let’s move out.” Shiro chuckles, nodding at Keith before they begin to walk. “Slow steps, Lance.”

Lance nods, eyes narrowed in focus.

Both Pidge and Hunk stand behind the trio, Pidge providing enough light for them to see what’s in front of them and Hunk supporting Lance’s back whenever he wavered.

“Okay, but am I the only one who is thinking about a sleepover?” Hunk pips in as soon as they reach Shiro’s soom, “Some good old team bonding just without poking each other’s mind.”

Everyone inside the room blinks at the suggestion before Lance beams. “Bro! That’s an amazing, idea!” He cheers, smiling apologetically at Shiro when he accidentally moves and the ice pack his leader was holding against his ankle falls.

“I’m okay with that.” Shiro declares, nodding in approval as he picks up the ice pack and places it once again on Lance’s. “Keith, Hunk, please go get a few mattresses. Pidge, you get the blankets. Lance and I will arrange the hologram and movie selection.”

“No more Altean Operas, Lance!” Keith shouts, narrowing his eyes at the brunet.

Lance sticks out his tongue at him, smile tugging the corner of his mouth. “Shu, shu, now, Mullet. I’m injured, I get to choose.”

“Bla bla bla, not fair! You chose last week.” Pidge grumbles, lower lip out in a pout and Shiro pushes her gently towards the exit.

“Blankets, young lady.” He says warmly and chuckles when Pidge rolls her eyes at him and raises her arms in surrender.

“You feeling better?” The leader asks after a few minutes in silence, picking up a white bandage and starting to wrap up the brunet’s ankle.

Lance hums and his eyes soften as he hears the murmurs of his friends, his family, just outside the door, chatting among them happily and playfully.

“I’m good.”

Game On│01

Spy!AU Jungkook x Rivals!OC 
Length: 6.8K 
Type: Mindless Fluff aka my specialty hehe
Warnings: May have angst in later parts; ments of weapons and violence, etc. 
Recommended OST: (x
(a/n): this wasn’t supposed to see the light of day until I finished all my other things but I figured I might as well post it because it’ll give me motivation to finish it T^T also… how long has it been since my pure pure fluff days? this part is realllyyyy just fluff hahah next part may have angst and action so stayed tuned bebs. As always comments and feedback is always appreciated. I must give credit where credit is due and say that this is loosely inspired by the Gallagher Girls academy, but mainly the concept of the academy and the mother as a headmistress, but other aspects are birthed from my fluffy ass imagination.

→Summary: “As the daughter of the headmistress, you’re not particularly impressed by the age old history of the academy, the stories turned bland since you spent most of your childhood hearing the tales as your bedtime story. In fact, you remain unfazed by most circumstances, but as luck would have it, these circumstances happened to exclude a certain golden boy named Jeon Jungkook.” 

Originally posted by jungkook-e

[11:07p.m.]

Aha, got him.

Trailing your eyes to from the receding figure to your cellphone, you can’t help but feel the corners of your lips tug themselves upwards.

Yes, this is how it should be. You had no reason to worry, even if it is a mission against his school today.

Rhythmic tapping of your fingers against the screen and your sneakers scratching against the pavement is all that is heard as you drift away from the scene, almost but not quite letting your guard down. You never let your guard down. Subtle vibration of the phone alerts you to the next step of the mission and you swipe your finger across the glass surface, expectant. A familiar robotic voice greets you,

“Hello, welcome to the final stage of your practical. Enclosed in locker 080604 between the intersection of 5th and 7th street you will find a package. Retrieve it. A carrier will arrive at exactly 12:00a.m. on Platform 4 from a train heading South. Deliver the package safely by 1:07a.m. and return to campus by the curfew of dawn. Best of luck.” by the time the voice is done speaking you’ve already thrown the device a few meters away from you where a tiny explosion can be heard. 

Typical.

Sighing slightly, because you’re going to have to run this one, you’re sprinting towards the underground tunnels and away from the crowded streets of downtown, too preoccupied to notice the man in all black on your trail.

Keep reading

Fingers

In which Harry needs a way to relax, and you have a thing for his fingers.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He’d been in a mood all day, his eyes dark and shoulders tense as he worked. You’d tried to keep from pestering him, sweetly offering him anything you thought would make him relax. However, you didn’t think about what he really needed to relax.
“Pet,” Harry said lowly from across the table, “c'mere.” You frowned slightly as you shuffled over to him, eyes closing happily when his fingers caressed your cheek. First the pads of his fingers traced your lips, then cheeks, over your forehead before they tunneled through your hair. Next his lips found the soft skin of your throat, working their way up the column of your neck before he reached your face again. Wet kisses were left along your jaw, and you squeaked in surprise when Harry’s hand came to your lips. His fingers gently pried into your mouth, a low growl rumbling through his chest. Once you realized his goal, you obediently let your jaw drop, allowing his fingers to slide into your mouth. Wetness pooled in your core. Harry loved watching you get so turned on by him. He loved watching how your eye lashes fluttered when he slid one long finger into your mouth, loved the sigh of content and want that came from your throat as your hand went to grip his forearm. He loved how slowly you slid your tongue over the skin of his finger, loved how your cheeks hollowed to suck slightly. Most of all, he loved when you showed him exactly how you’d suck his cock. When you moaned around his fingers, when you clenched your thighs together to ease some of the ache between them. When you’d let him brush his fingers along the ribbed surface of your throat. Next to having his cock down your throat, that was his favorite sight in the world–you sucking greedily on his fingers. And maybe he’d slide his free hand into your hair, tugging your head back as a soft whimper left his mouth. He was painfully hard at this point, his cock straining against the fabric of his jeans as he watched most of his knuckle disappear into the warmth of your mouth.
“Yeh like that, pet? Tha’s m'girl. Shh, shh, angel, relax, breathe.” The last part came as you gagged around his fingers when all three brushed the back of your throat, your eyes watering as you tried to pull back.
“Up, pet, c'mon. On the table.” He hoisted you onto the surface easily, his spit-slick fingers trailing over your sides as he curled them in the hem of your pants and dragged them down. A wicked smirk pulled at his lips. “No panties, love? Wanted m’ tha’ badly?” A whine came from your throat, and Harry swore as he lightly dragged his fingers over your core. “Christ, darling, who made you this wet? Bloody soaked.” Them his nose was bumping your clit as his tongue licked into you, his finger hands gripping your thighs as you bucked into his face. The sound of him licking into you fell to your ears and you moaned loudly, your hands fisting in his hair. Your toes curled as Harry moaned against your cunt, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through you. Swear beaded at your temples as Harry teased your entrance when his fingers, his green eyes locked in yours as he shallowly thrusted them into you.
“H-Harry, please. Please,” you let out a garbled moan, your face contorting in pleasure. The cool of heat in your belly tightened, and your thighs began to tremble as Harry’s tongue moved harder, quicker against your slick folds. His fingers curled inside of you, brushing a spot that had you seeing stars. Breathless whines bubbled from your throat as your orgasm loomed ahead, and you squeezed your eyes shut tightly. Harry grunted in displeasure as your thighs threatened to snap shut and disrupt his feast, but his large hands pried them apart easily.
“Cum! I’m gonna, gonna cum, Harry,” you gasped, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your boyfriend’s pink lips wrapped around your swollen clit. Before you could take another breath, your climax crashed over you, loud cries of ecstasy flooding from your lips. Harry’s tongue eagerly lapped up every drop of your release, his chin and lips shining with you as he pulled away. Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he gave you a sinister smile and his fingers fell to his belt as you struggled to catch your breath.
“Oh, c'mon now, angel, don’t look so exhausted. I’ve yet to tie you up.”
By the end of the night, Harry was relaxed and loose, male satisfaction rolling off of him in waves as he told you with a smile,
“Knew yeh had a thing fo’ m'fingers.” An indignant squawk and a swift kick to his calf was your only reply.