#and I’m allergic to it so I had to start putting down a towel so I could easily shake it out

[thecowboykatsuki-anon]

My seat protector for my car arrives today I’m so excited

[geo-winchester]

HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY!!!! Wish you the best and an amazing day!!

From your prompt list, can I request

7. And at every table, I’ll save you a seat.

With Taron?

BY MY SIDE

A/N: hi love! I’m so sorry this took me a lot of time to write! But I wasn’t in my greatest moment, I hope this is what you expect and I hope that you like it! Thank you so much for your wishes and I hope that you’ll have a great day!

———————

When you were a kid, you never imagine that you were going to see your best friend on the big screen, you always knew that Taron’s big dream was to be a movie star, and you were so proud and so happy to see his dream comes true, but you were also afraid of how this would change your relationship, but he proved you that anything changed between the two of you, he invites you to some of his red carpets, he called you when he got choose for new role. But you also have to admitted that you have a crush on him that you always tried to hide, you’re heart race with every smile he gave at you, or every time he brought coffee at your work, and you start to notice that in every dinner you have with your friends he always had a seat saved next to him for you, but you knew it was all in your head and you didn’t want to mess up your friendship so you start to avoid him, trying to calm your feelings, and you thought you finally get it until you open the door and you met his eyes, he was wet from the rain that was falling.

-Taron? Jesus your soaking, get in before you catch a cold- he follow your orders, before he said anything you went to the other room, you get back with a towel and a bathrobe, he look at you confused making you shrugged -I don’t have anything else, you can put this while your clothes gets dry- he nod and got inside the bathroom.

As he was in the bathroom you tried to calm yourself down by putting some coffee on, when he got out you heard him going to the laundry and a little while later the dryer going on, you couldn’t help but giggle when you saw him in the bathrobe.

-I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t laugh but purple is really your color- he rolled his eyes -do you want some coffee?.

-Yes please- he said, the two of you stayed completely silent as the two of you drank from your cups.

-Taron…

-Yn- you talk at the same time making you giggled -you go first- he said.

-Why are you here? I thought you were training for the role you got- you said.

-I was, but… why are you avoiding me?

-What? Why do you say that?

-Because lately every time I asked you out you said you been really busy with work, but I met Jenn at the gym and she told me that everything at your work it’s been really calm, so why?- he asked with a puppy look

-It 's nothing…

-how it could be nothing? You've been avoiding me for weeks and you said it’s nothing- he said.

-It’s something stupid- you said.

-Obviously not…

-I thought I was falling for you- you finally said.

-what?

-You see, it’s stupid, I mean look at me, I’m nothing special, you have a ton of pretty good looking girls that you work with, and I… I am just a normal girl that is your friend so yeah I know it’s stupid to even think that I have a shot- you said.

-You are in love with me?- he asked.

-I try not to…

-don’t…

-don’t mess with me Taron- you said -I’m know I’m not your type, I’m not one of those models you go out with, I’m just me, I’m not go out much, I read, I work and I’m just normal- you said -and I know this couldn’t happen…

-You’re wrong- he said as he make you look at him -You’re smart, you make me laugh, you’re beautiful even when you wear those crazy sweaters for all those festive days, I love when you try to be sensitive at something but sometimes you have difficult to express sorry so it’s kind of funny how you act- you rolled your eyes- you know me and I know everything about you- you look at him unsure of his answer- of course I’m saying the truth, I know your favorite food, I know that you hate olives and you are allergic to peanut, I know that you love when it rains but not just because of the smell in the air, but because you feel like your in twilight, and I know I love you and I been in love with you since I was in fifth grade when you get in to the music class and start to sing girls just want to have fun.

-And how do you know this will work? How do you know that this won’t blow up everything?

-I don’t know that- he said as he got closed to you and clean a small tear from your cheek- but i can tell you what I know, I know I want to be with you and only you- he said as he got so close to you that you can felt his breath before he finally crash his lips on yours -and as Taylor Swift once said “and on every table I’ll save you a sit”- he said making you laugh.

That moment sometimes feel like a long time ago, you like to said that after that day everything went smoothly but every time he was a away for a movie or he has to go on a tour and of course there were those dumbs fights, but there were also the good moments, the first night you spend together, when you decide to move in together, when he propose and your wedding, you also remember his reaction when you found out you were pregnant with your first child and how good of a father he was. Today was an important day for him, he was nomine to the golden globes. When you get inside the room you could see the excitement and the nervous in his eyes, you whistle to catch his attention.

-Too much?- he asked as he turned around, you shook your head in response.

-Your tie is a little crooked, let me help you- you walk to him, and start to fix his tie -Nervous?

-A little, I mean I know this is something great but I can’t help to think what if I didn’t win?

-Well you’ll have to found a new wife- you joked making him laugh -Hey, nothing would change If you loose, people would recognize how amazing work you did, and even if you loose, you’ll still have us- he kiss you -that and you can have a consolation prize when we get home- he smirk.

-And what if I win…

-Well Mr. Egerton, we have the house to ourselves, we can do whatever you want.

-God now I really want to win- he said, making you laugh.

The two of you were having a lot of fun at the event, with all the jokes and the conversation you had with all the other actors on the table, you saw that Taron was a little more relax, until they start to announce the category for best actor, he took your hand when the camera focus him, you felt the grip of your hand getting stronger, when he was called as the winner he bring you in to a big hug and kiss you before he walk to the stage.

-Oh God, this is… wow, I don’t believe it, love I won- he said making everyone laugh -I want to thank to all the crew of this amazing movie, Mathew thank you for give me this chance, my mom and my sisters who are watching with my beautiful kids, and to my beautiful wife, thank you for be there for me, even before we knew this was for ever, you always been my best friend and you always been by my side in every moment I know you always be there just as I’ll be there for you, I love you and our beautiful family, this wouldn’t happen without you, I love you- he said, you kiss him the minute he got in to the table.

-I love you too- you said.

-I know we said we’ll have the house to ourselves but I really want to share this with the kids…- you didn’t let him finish, you gave him a kiss.

-I can eat a burger and celebrate on our own.

-Let’s go and have our own celebration- he said as he gave you a quick kiss.

[ohgodimafraud]

allergic to touching grass - t/diapt (u/rushihara)

this fic is like just over 1k words and takes place s2e13 when theyre all weeding bc the landlady asked them to and the demons are all paranoid about the Girl Talk situation. i j think he shoudve sneezed the entire time idk.

“You haven’t moved from that spot in an eternity, Urushihara!”

Urushihara squinted up without moving his head at the cause of the sudden shade from the overbearing sun. Though he generally considered Ashiya’s complaints to be a nuisance, he found the scolding easier to tune out than the summer’s heat. Eventually the rampage would end if he pretended to try.

He made a point of ripping out a singular weed a few centimeters from his shoe.

“For shame! You didn’t uproot it properly. Miss Sasaki is doing far more of the work than you.”

“Ugh, dude, lay off.” He rubbed at his eyes with the heel of one of his hands, and when that did nothing but aggravate it more, he took a portion of the cooling towel hanging around his neck to scrub at his eyes and nose. “It’s too hot and I’m all ih-itchy. I agreed to some light weeding,” he paused to sniffle twice, “not cooking out here indefinitely.”

“It’s not even been thirty minutes.”

“Would go faster if you’d leave me alone.”

“Sire, please!” Ashiya cried out to Maou like a wife begging her husband to discipline their delinquent child. Japan really had done a number on them all.

The wind whooshed a few falling leaves across the yard. 

Maou sighed. “Sorry you had to see this,” he mumbled to Chiho, who was generally too happy to be there to care about their eccentricities. “C’mon, guys. Behave for once.”

Suzuno gave Maou a long, silent stare as she walked past him. He huffed in response and averted his gaze from her judgment. If looks could kill, she wouldn’t need that mallet.

Urushihara squinted up at the sun as he ripped out another singular weed and put it to rest with its brethren. It was starting to feel like he had inhaled fluffy dandelion seeds and they’d gotten stuck up his nose, though it was highly unlikely considering that those weren’t even the weeds that were growing on the property. His vision had gone from blurry to bleary, only briefly clearing when he squeezed out another irritated tear. The itch in his nose had blossomed into something monstrous and requiring all of his focus. He grabbed the end of the towel and brought it up to his nose while his breath hitched fruitlessly.

Maou looked up from his task. “Dude, are you crying?”

“No, i-iht’s…Hehh…ugh, my n-nose ihh-is…hihh…” 

“Ah,” he said, nodding and waving his hand dismissively, “Take your time.”

Urushihara managed to open his eyes enough to shoot him a glare before pitching down into a portion of the towel. “KSHHH’ieeh! hh…Ehkshhiih! HYSHHHh’ieeh! Guhh…sh-shuttup!”

“Don’t talk to his majesty in such a disrespectful manner!”

“ihYESHhh’iehh!” Urushihara responded, cheeks turning a pink flush to match the visible irritation of his nose. 

Maou sighed again. Nothing could ever be easy. It was bad enough that Chiho, Emi, and Bel were hiding something, but now this task was being dragged out and Urushihara was once again looking worse for the wear. It wasn’t like this would hinder their investigation—if anything gave them more of a reason to visit the bathhouse afterwards—but still, he was wondering if subjecting his laziest demon general to this moderate manual labor was worth it when he was barely contributing anyway. “Jeez…you good?”

“Do I, like,” he started in a deadpan tone, paused to sniffle and consequently sneezed from exasperating the tickle in his nose, “hihgKxshh’ih! s-sound good?” He scrubbed at his nose from behind the towel that had turned into a rough excuse for a tissue. 

“Always with the theatrics,” Ashiya mumbled, diligently pulling the weeds in Urushihara’s vicinity. 

“Dude, that’s yihh—IHtSHHh’ighh! Guh…shit!” He rubbed his eyes so he could roll them properly at Ashiya. “That’s your thing, not mine.” 

“How dare you!”

Suzuno, who had already had enough of her neighbors this afternoon, interrupted the start of what likely would turn into another pointless tiff with a neutral observation. “Lucifer, your face is looking blotchy. Could it be an allergy?”

“Dude, what else would it be?” He rubbed his nose and scowled at the multiple pairs of eyes on him. The urge to sneeze refused to subside or even significantly diminish in spite of all of his efforts. Pawing At his nose seemed to exasperate his suffering. “hNGT’SHHuh!” he sneezed, failing to suppress it. It left his ears ringing and his nose burning. He gave a dry cough and shifted his head so his side bang would cover more of his face. “IhhGKhshh’ieh!

“You were fine on the farm, though,” Maou said, furrowing his brow. 

“I think the pollen count is really bad today,” Chiho supplied gently as she approached them. She found a packet of tissues in her bag and offered it to Urushihara like he hadn’t thrown her off a building only months ago. Bygones and all that. He accepted it wordlessly, without so much as making eye contact. “Different locations have different types of it too.”

“What, he’s allergic to touching grass now?” Maou sighed as Urushihara blew his nose noisily into one of the tissues. “Hey, at least say thank you, man.”

“He can’t ride in a car, be near a small cat, can’t clean, and apparently can’t venture outside. What can he do?”

Urushihara glared at the grass and muttered obscenities under his breath and something about hacking government databases before sneezing again, fumbling to bring a clean tissue to his nose. 

“Give the poor guy a break,” Chiho interjected, trying to keep the peace as always, “This isn’t his fault.”

“Please, Sasaki-san,” Ashiya said gravely, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, “He’s happy to have an excuse to laze about. Last week he pretended to have arthritis to shirk his one task of folding the laundry.”

“Dude…really?”

Chiho and Suzuno stared at him.

“I just said my hand was cramping up!” Urushihara’s voice cracked as he yelled.

“From playing all of those incessant games!”

“Can we not air out all our dirty laundry right now?” Maou slumped forwards, his smile hanging by a thread. “For once?”

Ashiya bowed and swore to pick up the slack, and Urushihara went a few yards south to continue sneezing his way through the remaining tissues in the pack. By the time the weeding was finished, Emi had arrived to whisk away Bel and Chiho. Just as planned. 

“ehTSshhh’ieuh!”

Kind of. 

Emi immediately rolled her eyes at Urushihara and commented, “Wow, he looks like even more of a hot mess than usual.”

“...shut up.” 

[slaughtervoid]

HOW TO MAKE MACARONS

you’ll start by preparing your equipment.

PART ONE: SETTING UP.

get out your metal bowl. get out your mixer, your whipping attachment, your spatula, all those little cute prep bowls you got for mise en place and never used. your kitchen scale, your baking sheets, your silicone mats, your piping bag and tip.

here’s what you’re going to do: you’re going to make them forget. every fat that has ever touched them, you’ll wipe away. of course, they’re clean, but this is the trick- they can be cleaner. using white vinegar and a rag or paper towel, give the surface of all your implements a quick wipe. a common pitfall avoided, simple as that.

don’t you wish you knew how to do that for yourself? don’t you wish it was that simple? i wish it was that simple.

PART TWO: MEASURING.

your kitchen scale is your best friend! it’s so much easier to be precise with a friend like this. certainly, you can succeed with volume measurement, but don’t you want to be careful?

here is what you need-

one hundred five grams of almond flour. one hundred five grams of powdered sugar. one hundred grams egg white. one hundred grams granulated sugar. if you have difficulty with dependably whipping egg whites to stiff peaks, one fourth teaspoon cream of tartar.

for this recipe, i’ll be making lavender macarons. isn’t that nice? my mother is allergic. to follow along, measure out one tablespoon of culinary grade lavender.

now we turn to our secret helper, the food processor. for a macaron of the right texture, you’ll want the finest ground almond flour you can get, but it’s so hard to find the fineness you truly need. the easiest solution is to toss that almond flour into a food processor for a minute, and then it will be as fine as you need it to be.

add the powdered sugar to the food processor, too, why don’t you, and get them mixed together while you’re at it. if you’re using lavender, pulse that lavender to a fine dust in a spice grinder or separate in the food processor, then add that to the mix as well.

when i was younger, my best friend lived down the road. we loved each other so much. i’ve met him again now that i’m older. terribly allergic to nuts, now, developed suddenly. i missed him so much. i still miss him. i always will.

sift the almond flour, powdered sugar and lavender mixture through a fine mesh to remove any large fragments. discard the chaff. set aside.

PART THREE: PREPARING THE BATTER.

the technique used in this recipe is called a swiss meringue. it can be used in all kinds of applications, and it’s a handy technique to learn. my mother taught me to cook and to bake; not professionally, just at a basic level. she taught myself and my sister so well that we both had fractions mastered before beginning school! i wish she had taught me more. i wish she had never sent me to school. i wish i had never grown up. to start, add about an inch of water to a small saucepan and bring it to just a simmer on your stovetop.

put your egg whites and granulated sugar into a clean glass or metal bowl, one that rests nicely on the small saucepan without touching the water below. if it suits well and won’t touch the water, you can use the bowl from your stand mixer. as soon as you set it on the pan, start whisking, and don’t stop! your goal is simply for the sugar to dissolve. you can check this by touching the mixture with your fingertips and rubbing them together- do you still feel grains of sugar? i always hate this step. i hate the stickiness of the syrup and the perceived uncleanliness of the raw egg. it makes my skin crawl to touch it, and i keep a towel nearby to wipe my fingers on as soon as i can.

once your sugar is dissolved, you’ll pour the mixture into the bowl of your stand mixer and begin to whip the egg whites. start by mixing on low for half a minute or so; then, if desired, add your cream of tartar, and increase to medium for a minute or two. once it’s white and beginning to promise fluffiness, raise to medium-high or high and whisk until stiff peaks are formed. the best way to know is to watch. the whites will become glossy, the whisk will form streaks. some advise that the middle of the whisk will seem to start to fill. go slowly, at first- it hurts nothing to stop and check every so often. once you’ve done it a few times, you’ll just be able to tell, kind of, when you’re getting there.

i was never good at understanding that, the idea that “you’ll just know”. how could i know unless i knew the signs? how obvious should the change be? will it come to me easily, or will i be left behind?

the ideal stiff peak, when you lift your whisk from the whites, will shoot straight up, possibly with a slight bend to the tip.

remember those dry ingredients we sifted together earlier? now you’ll sift through that fine mesh again, this time directly into the whipped whites. you can do this in your mixer bowl or a different bowl, whichever works best for you. some people find it easiest to add their dry ingredients in two or three batches, mixing in between; i add mine all at once, and it seems to work fine.

to start, you’ll fold your dry ingredients into the egg whites. using a J-shaped gesture, bring your spatula slowly through the center and turn, then turn your bowl (as much as ninety degrees, as little as twenty- up to you!) and repeat. once everything is evenly incorporated, it’s time for the macaronage.

for me, this is the most effort that goes into making macarons. my arm aches by the time i’m done. don’t worry, it’s unlikely yours will! it’s also the step i love most, because it’s home to a display of unusual tenderness.

i work slowly. i work very slowly, in fact, intentionally, a sort of moving meditation that pains me somewhat to perform.

to macaronage, you will very gently and slowly press the batter up against the side of the bowl in deliberate strokes, turning the bowl as you work, so that once you’ve completed a rotation you’ve formed a flower pattern, each petal the width of your spatula. after each macaronage repetition, tenderly gather all of your batter back to the center of the bowl and start anew.

slowly, so slowly, your batter will become looser and looser, shinier and sleeker. it will fall from the spatula in flowing ribbons. when pulled up the side of the bowl, it will relax faster each time, easing back down more quickly. test often; don’t overmix! when your batter is ready, you’ll let the batter fall from your spatula in a smooth stream, leisurely and without interruption, effortless, forming several figure eights before it breaks.

it’s like a massage. i wish someone would macaronage me. i wish someone would treat me with tenderness and care.

pour your batter into a piping bag fitted with a half-inch round tip.

PART FOUR: PIPING.

you may use templates to pipe your macarons, or you may freehand them. i’ve tried both and i’m never happy. i’m never happy with anything. to pipe, place your piping bag ninety degrees half an inch or so over the center of the template and softly squeeze for about three to five seconds, then release and swiftly pull the bag up with a slight twist. it takes time to master this! your just-piped macaron shell should be well within the borders of the template if you intend for the finished product to be the size of the marked circle.

once you’ve piped as many as will be on the tray, set your piping bag aside and firmly bang the trays against the counter, a few times each. you’ll notice your macarons expand to fill the circles.

here is what i always forget: now you’ll walk away. by this time, typically i’ll be thinking i should preheat the oven, but it’s unnecessary. you have to wait. you have to be good. you have to be patient. set the trays aside. depending on the humidity, you’ll need to let them sit anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour.

i don’t know what to do with myself in this time. i should, by now. i should be able to fill time, i should remember how the recipe goes, but i’m always startled and dismayed to remember my distraction comes with a built-in lull. sometimes i work on other things, like a filling. sometimes i just sit. sometimes i just sit and think. sometimes i sit and think about things i shouldn’t. sometimes i think about things i shouldn’t.

when your macarons are ready, they’ll have a “skin” of sorts. when you gingerly touch the top of one, it should feel dry and not at all tacky. at this point, preheat your oven to 300º F.

PART FIVE: BAKING.

it may take slight trial and error to find the exact perfect cooking time for your oven. mine takes thirteen minutes; yours may take ten, or fifteen. if you try to move a macaron, it should feel neither jiggly nor crisp, merely stand firm, if delicate. a well-baked macaron will separate satisfyingly easily from silicone or parchment once cooled. i am not like a well-baked macaron as far as separation goes.

let your macaron shells cool fully before proceeding with any filling. they’ll keep for a few days in airtight containers at room temperature, longer in the fridge, and wonderfully for months in the freezer.

PART SIX: FILLING.

fillings are the difficult part for me.

you’d think, certainly, that the strenuously detailed work of the macaron shells would be the thing, but it’s not. i’m nearly always successful in the difficult work of preparing delicate, demanding shells, and then when i make ganache i have a breakdown.

maybe i’m just tired, by that point. i’m tired now. i’m tired all the time.

today, i’m making white chocolate and lavender ganache to go with my lavender shells.

you will need two hundred fifty grams of white chocolate (very nice white chocolate, not cheap stuff), two tablespoons of lavender, and ninety milliliters of heavy cream.

i have made this filling far more times than the lavender shells to accompany. it seems like every time i try, the chocolate curdles, or i add food coloring badly and it turns an unsightly brownish gray, or i oversteep the lavender and make it bitter. why is this the part where i stumble? why do i fail at the easiest parts? why am i better at something demanding and unforgiving than the part that should be simple?

add the heavy cream and lavender to a pot, and heat to just barely a simmer. let it sit for a minute, but not too long. pour the heavy cream through a strainer into the chocolate, and let sit for two to five minutes. with a whisk, gently stir the mixture until smooth. if the chocolate isn’t quite melted, microwave for ten seconds at a time, mixing in between, until the ganache is fully smooth.

set aside to cool. it should be ready in about an hour.

why do i make macarons? why is this the work i can do? why does it make me feel like i want to cry, but never actually make me cry? why can’t i cry?

pipe your ganache onto one shell, top with another, and you’re done! i like to use a fluted piping tip- it’s an easy way to make them look fancy. macarons are actually at their best in texture and flavor when they’ve sat in the fridge for a day or so. with age comes beauty!

the finished macarons are always beautiful, delicious, and technically impressive. i never feel like i’ve actually done something worthy of praise. there’s a hollowness in me that swallows up compliments and makes them disappear. i am lonely and looking for something in my kitchen. i don’t know what it is. i dream about being in the kitchen, barefoot, cracking eggs and letting yolks fall to the floor. our chickens have nearly stopped laying. what will i do when they die? when i fail them, and they die? i’ll have to buy my eggs at the store. i’ll have to go out to the store, with all the strangers around me, and grab my carton from the big cold hollow fridge in the big cold hollow store filled with people i don’t know. all looking at me. all knowing what is wrong with me. all knowing about the big cold hollow thing in me. they know that i’m not taking very good care of the chickens. they know that i’m too tired to clean as much as i should.

the best thing about macarons is that they freeze great and thaw quickly. my favorite way to store and serve macarons is to keep them in the freezer and put out what i’ll serve on the counter about a half an hour to an hour before they’ll be served.

i don’t like to go out and have those strangers look at me. i like to stay at home, in my kitchen, making macarons. i like to whip my egg whites to perfect, shiny peaks. i like to be barefoot on my kitchen floor, which is clean, mostly, or in my yard, on the grass, the plush grass, and i cannot be barefoot in the store.

i wish i could always stay at home. i wish i could just make macarons. i wish that was all i had to do, all day forever. i wish i was still learning to bake with my mother. i wish somebody would teach me to bake again. i wish i could stop.

[maeleelee]

Chapter 9: You are home.

Soulmate AU. When you meet your soulmate, their name appears randomly on your body.

Lee Minho x reader Blue

They didn't know what their soul bond was until one afternoon when Blue rammed into Minho.

Warnings: death glare. spacing out. She does tell Minho to strip.

Blue sat on the couch and scrolled through TikTok on her phone when the door to the apartment opened. Jeongin and Bee walked in and had bags in their hands. “What are you two up too?” Jeongin smirked and set the bags down on the coffee table. “I took it into my own hands to get you nice clothes.” “You know my size?” “I’m a fashion icon. Give me some credit. Plus I had Bee’s help.” “Go shower and meet us in the room.” Jeongin said. Blue got up and went into the bathroom to turn on the shower. She stripped, jumped in, bathed, washed her hair, shaved, then took a deep breathe. She turned the water off and wrapped a towel around herself. She walked out of the bathroom and went into the bedroom. “Put this on for now while we get your hair and makeup done. Then we’ll put you in the outfit.” She walked into her closet and changed into the shorts and tank and walked out. "Sit." Bee pointed to the chair by Blue's vanity. Blue listened to Bee and sat down. Jeongin walked over and started doing hair styles. Picking one that was half up in two buns and the rest down. Bee started to get to work. She plugged in the bowl dryer. She sprayed Blue's hair with heat protection and grabbed the brush. She brushed through Blue's hair and then parted it. She pulled it up and dried it in sections. Jeongin had turned on music lightly and sat next to the on the vanity.

Bee moved Blue's hair off her neck and raised an eyebrow."What's wrong?" Jeongin asked Bee. "Um, you didn't go get Minho's name tattooed on you, did you?" Bee asked Blue. "Um, what?" "Lee Minho is tattooed on the back of your neck." Jeongin pulled out his phone and looked through the bond page and smiled. "When you meet your soulmate, their name will appear randomly on your body. The day you ran into him, was the day your bond happened." "Actually, that makes a lot of sense. Every time I'm around him, I feel at home. When we hit each other, I swear I felt sparks run through me, but I thought I was crazy." They smiled. "Well, hair up or down now?" Bee looked at Jeongin. Jeongin smirked. "Up. Two space buns." Bee nodded and went back to blow-drying Blue's hair. Soon she was done. She parted Blue's hair again and tied the right side together and then started putting the first bun up, then she moved onto the second one. Once her hair was done, Bee started on her makeup. Nothing too crazy. Just eyeliner and mascara. Blue really didn't like makeup. She was allergic to most of it anyways. Jeongin laid out the outfit and made sure to put on some shorts for under the dress, knowing Blue doesn't like her thighs rubbing together. "I'm going to shower and change. Bee get ready. Blue outfits on the bed." He kissed both their cheeks and walked out of the room. The girls got up and changed into their outfits. Blue slid on her black platforms and Bee put on her vans. They went into the living room and waited around for Seungmin. 

The door opened and Seungmin ran in. "I'm going to change. Taylor got off early, she's on the way up." Jeongin walked out looking like a model. "Are you trying to get jumped tonight?" Bee asked as she laughed. "No. I just know I look good." The two girls roll their eyes at the boy. Taylor walked in and smiled. "You all look so good." Seungmin walked out and smiled. "Alright. We ready to go?" The girls nodded and everyone headed out the door. "Blue. Why do you have Minho's name on your neck?" Seungmin asked. "He's her soulmate. It appeared after they ran into each other." Bee told Seungmin. Seungmin smiled. "I'm finally getting rid of you. Sweet." Blue punched him in the arm. "Ouch." "This is why she's mean to you." Taylor laughed as she got into the car, the other three following. Seungmin pouted and got in the front seat. 

They got parked and walked in the doors. They walked into the room and smiled as the other three boys waved at them. "Hey guys." Chan smiled and gave each of them a hug. "Damn, what's got you all dressed up?" Han smirked at Blue. "Minho asked me to go to dinner after this." He smiled. "Aw. Cute." She smacked his arm lightly. "Blue." She spun and saw Felix. "Aren't you supposed to be in the back?" She giggled as he threw his arms around her. "Guess what." She whispered. "What?" He whispered back. "Minho's my soulmate." He pulled back and looked at her. "Where is it?" She raised an eyebrow. "Where's that tattoo?" She turned around and pointed to her neck. There it was. Lee Minho in black ink on the back of her neck. He smiled and turned her back around. He grabbed her cheeks and pushed them together, making her lips poke out. "Ask him where yours is." She nodded at Felix. "You need to get in the back before you get into trouble by Minho. He'll come out here glaring. Go." Changbin told Felix. Felix let go of Blue and went to Changbin. He kissed him quickly and ran to the back. 

There were six groups tonight. Each group had a different style. Each group had to perform two songs. One after the other. They told them to put a spin on it this year. The first group was The Mills. They did a slow song for the first one. The second song was a faster song. The spin was the flipped the routine with both songs but changed it to match. It wasn't awful. Next was Danceracha. They were in all black and stood in the middle of the stage. They started dancing to the music. Then they started singing. Blue watched in amazement. None of them said they could sing. They ended the song and everyone started to cheer. She turned to Han and punched his arm lightly. "How are you three not going to tell us they sing like that?" She pointed to the stage. "Sorry?" Han smiled. "They wanted to surprise you guys." "Well surprised I am, what's the name of the song?" Blue mumbled. "Taste. The next one is Wow." The next song started and they started singing again and dancing again. Blue watched the three move around the stage like they owned it. They did. There was no way the rest had a shot after this. Minho found Blue's eyes and smiled at her. "Just wanna be with you." He sang to her. She blushed and watched him smile as he finished out the song. "That's one way to ask someone out." Bee giggled next to Blue. The next group came out and set up.

Blue couldn't pay attention to anything after that. Like so deep into thought that Han had to push her to get her to answer him. "What?" "Are you okay?" She nodded. "Yeah. Sorry. Went deep into thought, thanks for pulling me out." Han nodded. "They're about to call out the winners." She raised an eyebrow. "Damn, I really was gone." He nodded, giggling with her. They watched all the groups come on stage and she laughed as she saw Felix waving at them. They all waved back and she noticed Minho had been put in purple. "That's why Felix came out here, wasn't it?" She looked at Changbin. He chuckled and nodded. "Wanted to match you two." They all went silent as they called out the winners. "Third place, Mediocre. Second place, Mills. First place, Danceracha." They all stood up and cheered for the three. They smiled as they held up the trophy. "Thank you for coming out." 

The guys jumped off the stage and walked over to the group. People kept congratulating the three. Blue pulled Minho away from the group and smiled up at him. "When were you going to tell me?" He raised an eyebrow. "Tell you what?" "That we were soulmates." He chuckled. "When you found out on your end. I didn't want to make you feel like we had to be together." She smiled at him and grabbed his hand, kissing his finger tips. "You want to see it?" He nodded and she turned around. She felt lips on her neck and sighed. He turned her back around and put her hand on his ribs. "Mines right here. Saw it right after we ran into each other. Felix made it his goal to find you. Turns out he didn't have to look far since he's friends with Jeongin." "Did you still want to go eat?" He smiled. "Of course. I meant what I said. I just wanna be with you." She giggled and pulled him down to her. He went to kiss her when there was a cough. "I'm sorry for breaking this up, but they need you for pictures." They heard a man say. Minho turned and glared at the man. "Come on. The faster the pictures are done, the quicker we can get to the date." She smiled at him as she drug him back to the group.

"Thank you. Dinner was great." She smiled at Minho. "Wanna walk around for a little bit?" Minho asked her. She nodded. Soon they were at the pool at the apartments Blue lives at. No one was out there. She looked at him and smiled. "Strip." He raised an eyebrow and watched her strip out her skirt and her jacket and shirt. She was in a tank top and shorts. She looked at him. "Come on." She told him as she walked into the pool. She swam over to the edge where he was at and tilted her head. "Come on, I'll hold you the whole time." She smiled. He took a deep breathe and stripped down to his boxers. He slid into the pool next to her and smiled as she pulled his arm up. She kissed his rib were her name was, copying him from earlier. She wrapped her arms around his neck and put her head on his chest. "Thank you." She whispered. "For what?" She smiled and looked up at him. "Showing me love. The only two who ever showed me were Seungmin and Jeongin. They're my best friends. They helped me move here. It's a different type of love from them. Like sibling love. You make it feel like life is worth it again and you make me feel at home and-" He pressed his lips to hers. The bond flowed through the two, like warmth on a sunny day, like fire from a bonfire, heat from a freshly baked cake. He pulled away and leaned his forehead on hers. "You are my home. You are home." He told her. She pulled his face back down to hers and kissed him again. 

So the next part is going to branch off into Han's story. I'll be doing a series for all the guys. I'm going to do a short thing for Seungmin and Taylor and Bee and Hyunjin. And I have a idea for Felix and Changbin. Jeongin and Chan will also have one. Thank you for reading these! I've had a lot of fun and knowing people like reading it, making me smile. Masterlist The boys / The girls Chapter 8 / Chapter 10

Bonus: Outfits

[softsnzstuff]

73. Faking an illness just to be taken care of with Steddie? Steve faking the illness? o___o

Ok so I took this in the direction of: Doctor office AU, Eddie constantly is overworking himself so Steve fakes sick to get Eddie to take a day off. Enjoy!! 🤍

***

Steve loved Eddie to death. He loved how he put his patients first, how passionate he was about his work, and how dedicated he was to the job.

But in times of burnout, Steve also hated how Eddie put his patients first, how passionate he was about the work, and how dedicated he was to the job - because for Eddie, that meant no resting.

The last two weeks had been a prime example of the latter. Eddie was working his ass off during their typical 7am-6pm schedule, but then he and Steve would go home and he’d keep working. Either updating chart notes on his laptop, writing emotional support pet letters, etc etc.

For the past two weeks, Steve had been desperately trying to get Eddie to come to bed at a normal time, to eat meals regularly, to put the work down and watch a show. Every time it was the same ‘I have work to do, Steve,’ excuse.

Eddie lived and breathed for this job, but Steve had decided enough was enough. There was truly only one thing that could get Eddie to slow down for a day, and this was it.

This morning, Steve got up extra early. He went outside to the balcony quietly and misted the air with an old cologne that he was allergic to. The effect was instantaneous, his eyes and nose itching.

He had also heated up a damp towel in the microwave and pressed it against his face in the bathroom for a while, making his face warm and clammy.

He’d been sniffling since the cologne was sprayed, and now he was thoroughly congested. He stood up and left the en suite as he felt the tickle take over. Making a bit of a scene, he buckled at the waist.

“HAESSSH! Isssh! TSCHEW!”

Eddie jerked out of sleep, startled by the loud outburst.

“Jesus Christ Steve. Bless you…”

“Sorry snFF didn’t bean to wake you… eKSHew!”

Eddie had gotten up from bed by now and was making his way to Steve. “Are you okay?”

Steve knew in a real circumstance, he’d not admit it right away.

“Yeah I’m fine,” He coughed into his shoulder, not looking at Eddie.

“Steve?” Eddie said sternly, resting a hand to his forehead. “You feel warm and clammy. What’s wrong?”

Steve shrugged, “Just started feeling sick last night. iTSCH’ew! I’ll be fine though. We have to get ready for work.”

Eddie looked his partner up and down. “I don’t think so. You, Steve Harrington, are taking a sick day.”

“Will you take care of me?” He asked, eyes wide.

Eddie looked conflicted. “I… I have a lot of work to do Stevie…”

Thank goodness Steve felt a strong tickle start to blossom. He scrunched his nose and really played into it as his breath hitched.

“Ak’TCHuh! EhCHOO! … hiKSHshEW!!”

The last sneeze was bad, Steve helplessly sniffling the mess back as he coughed into a closed fist.

The display was so pathetic and gross, Eddie felt his body go lax.

“Yeah alright, I’ll take today off and take care of you. Now get back in bed, you sound horrible. I’m gonna call Robin.”

Eddie grabbed his phone off the nightstand and slipped out of the bedroom to make the phone call. Steve crawled back into bed, blowing his nose a few times and adding the tissues to the growing pile on the bed.

A few minutes later, Eddie entered the room again and climbed into bed next to Steve. “Alright. Robin is calling in Billy. Do you want me to make you any tea or soup?”

“Can you just lay with me?” Steve asked.

“Yeah Steve. Of course.”

Eddie sat upright, propped against several pillows looking at the tv. Steve had made himself comfortable resting his head on Eddie’s lap. After two or three episodes of bake off, Steve had actually fallen asleep.

He’d blown his nose so many times and the cologne’s effect was wearing off. He actually was breathing through his nose without realizing. Eddie didn’t notice, but instinctively reached down and felt Steve’s forehead. It wasn’t clammy anymore but it also wasn’t warm at all.

He smiled, knowing his boyfriend wasn’t running a fever and he took the opportunity to slip out of bed, transferring Steve’s head to a pillow. Eddie quietly started making some tea in the kitchen when he noticed the sliding door to the balcony was unlocked.

He stepped closer to lock the door, not thinking too much of it when he saw the bottle of cologne on the patio table. He stepped outside and picked it up, realizing it was the one Steve was allergic to.

He turned off the stove and marched back into the bedroom, picking up a pillow and hitting Steve with it.

“Ow! What was that for??” Steve woke up, holding his head.

“What was that for? What was this for Steve??” Eddie asked, holding you the bottle.

Shit.

“Are you even sick??” Eddie questioned.

Steve was caught. There was no lying now. “No. I’m not. I was pretending because I knew you’d take care of me. Which really translated to taking care of yourself with an off day.”

“What??” Eddie asked.

“You’ve been working yourself too hard Eddie. 24/7 it’s just work. You needed a break and this was the one way I knew you’d take it. Are you mad at me?”

Eddie sighed, “No, I’m not mad at you…but I am telling Nancy and Robin all about this. I’m sorry I’ve been working so much. There’s just so much stuff to do.”

“I know but you have to take care of yourself too!”

“I know.” Eddie nodded, looking down at his feet. He examined the cologne bottle again. “Allergic reaction. You really had me there. How’d you do the whole-”

“Fever? Hot towel in the microwave.” Steve finished the thought for him.

“Classic. How could I have missed that?” Eddie chuckled to himself. “How about we both take a nap and then finish that cooking show before work tomorrow?”

Steve smiled, “I thought you’d never ask.”

[sunshine-on-marz]

reader is an enderman hybrid because they're so gender tbh

also some lore stuff: blazeborns are blaze hybrids. endermen make vocalisations similar to felines (bc i adore the headcanon that they purr). enderman hybirds are usually 7 feet tall, where reader is 8 and full endermen are 10 feet.

also this is a bit messy but thats just how i write (bc adhd and getting off track easily lmao)

- 🦭

Sapnap had shown up at your doorstep in the middle of a storm one night, and you had ushered him inside. You wanted to hug him, especially when you noticed the tear streaks on his cheeks, his hair sticking to his face from the rain. He looked miserable, and you could tell by his shaking hands that he was trying his best to stop himself from grabbing onto you. Being an enderman hybrid made you allergic to water no matter what, and you appreciated his restraint, even if you wanted to pull him close and never let go.

"Oh, Sap… Wait, I'm gonna get you a towel and some dry clothes, okay?" You cooed, turning around and hurrying to the closet in your bedroom, grabbing a couple towels and a few different shirts. They would all act like dresses on the man. You were taller than the average enderman hybrid, but not quite as tall as a full enderman.

You stalked back into the living room, tail swishing behind you. The tips of Sapnap's hair were already a bit dry, and you figured that because he was a blazeborn, he dried faster than others because of his body temperature. He had already changed clothes, you assumed he had found them in the closet by the basement door. Still, you didn't want him to catch a cold so you walked over, a low rumble in your chest as you sat down on the couch and gently started drying his hair with the towel, handing him the other.

"... Do you wanna talk about it?" You asked, your tail curling around his forearm as he leaned back against your knees, his long hair laying in your lap while you gently untangled his hair and dried it. You made sure to be careful around his horns. They were taller than your own, and went straight up, where your own curled around your droopy, elf-like ears like a ram's horns would. Sapnap shook his head, although the slight sniffle told you that he probably had a fight with his fiancés. He hadn't told you about them a lot lately, but from the bits and pieces he did say, they didn't know where Quackitt was and Karl was acting.. different. But, if he didn't want to talk about it, you wouldn't force him.

After his hair had dried enough, you finally put away the towel and grabbed the hair brush you had on the coffee table, gently brushing his hair with your fingers carding through the strands to section them up. You started humming softly, watching the fiery orange of Sapnap's hair as it shimmered. It wasn't quite made of fire, but it looked a lot like it.

"Have I… Ever told you how much I care about you?" You whispered as you finished sectioning off his hair, long fingers holding his hair as you started braiding. There was a low purr in your throat, your tail thumping against his arm as you thought about what to say next. "And I think you deserve better than this."

Sapnap stayed quiet, so you stopped talking as well. You continued braiding his hair, his bangs framing his face so perfectly, and he looked so pretty, and you just wanted to wrap him up in your arms and keep him for yourself, but it wasn't your choice to make. If he didn't want to stay, he didn't have to. You would never force him to stay by your side, especially when you weren't the one he loved. No matter how much you love him, that fact won't change.

That didn't stop you from hoping that one day you would be.

This was so good…

And oh my god I’m so short I’m fucking jealous of reader

[how-gross]

10:37pm — Saturday, January 27th, 2024

Also genuinely forgot it mention this

But I had an allergic reaction to something in my house last Tuesday night, and the effects of the reaction carried onto Wednesday and finally died down at midnight that Wednesday night.

And it really got me like paranoid about every little thing especially when my anxiety is high. Because it could’ve been worse like it could’ve been like anaphylaxis. I just got lucky this time. And it doesn’t help that for some reason, for the past week and a half, my eyes have been super irritated for some fucking reason. Like they’ve been super itchy and they’ve been getting red easily.

And I know it’s because in the past month I’ve been ignoring my allergy meds and that’s probably the effect of it, but it’s been a week and a half since I’ve been taking them regularly and they’re still irritated as hell. And I’ve gotten back on my allergy meds schedule BEFORE I had an allergic reaction, so it’s all rlly confusing stuff.

And this isn’t the first time I’ve had a reaction like this. I had an allergic reaction last year during my AP World History Class JUST BEFORE taking a test. The only difference was that that experience, the reaction only really impacted ONE eye making it all swollen and red. My other eyes was swollen too, but it was mostly the other eye, while my face was really itchy and bumps started appearing. And I tried using the knowledge I learned from that experience to this experience: I remembered the Secretary gave me eye drops and some kind of medication, plus gave me some ice packs to put over my eye, so I did the same. I didn’t have the same medication she gave me, so I just went ham on my primary allergy meds and hoped for the best. I also remembered my mom giving me Hydroxizine for the itching, so I did the same. It didn’t work, none of it worked and that’s when I had to barge into my sick mothers room (my mom had Covid; my life’s going wonderfully right now) and show her what was happening, and naturally she freaked out which made me freak out. My mom instead suggested that I put a cold wet towel over my entire face throughout the night, which is what I did. And thankfully the swelling went down.

Anyways all this rambling is just to try and sum up why I’ve been feeling dazed and fogged up for the past couple of days while at the same time incredibly anxious, especially in terms of Germs. My mom has germophobia, and at first I made fun of her for it, but as time went on and I’ve started caring more about my life, I’m realizing I’m sort of relating to my mother in that aspect. It’s only gotten worse with this allergic reaction, I never thought it’d happen again and the fact that it was due to something that was in my house and I still don’t know what that something is is making me more consciously aware of how many germs are constantly in the room with me.

Anyways that’s it. Bye.

[exxa1812]

Voldication: Capter 2

Chapter 2: I should be in school... But now I'm fighting DUMBledore and Potter on vacation in Italy.

Summary: This chapter will be in Draco's POV. It'll take place on a beach. There is a lot of crack. More family vacation and DUMBledore and Harry Potter.

Draco POV Day 3. I hate this vacation. This is so boring. What was Uncle Voldi thinking? I should be in Hogwarts right now. Do schoolwork and torment little eleven-year-olds. But no, I’m stuck here. And now Oma is here as well. What was she doing here? I don’t have a problem with her, she is nice. Sometimes she can be a little bit much. And I don’t like her drinking so much Vodka. It’s as bad as my father’s alcoholism. And that means something.

Anyways. Oma wasn’t there for breakfast, which meant that everybody was happy. At least I think so. I wasn’t really paying attention because I was on my phone texting with my archnemesis, Harry Potter. Since I cannot go to school and be mean to him, I have to be mean to him over WhatsApp. Uncle Voldi decided that we all should go to the beach. When I mentioned that we aren’t even near the ocean, he said ‘that nobody knows where we are in Italy, so we can go to the beach even though we aren’t near one.’ So, we all went to the beach, even Oma.

Well father didn’t come with us, since he is very allergic to sand. After everybody had packed their stuff, we got into the bussle and drove to the beach. The beach was genuinely nice. Not so many people were there, and the ocean was calm. I laid down my towel and set up the parasol. I have to lay in the shade and put on a lot of sunscreen because my skin is very sensitive when it comes to the sun. I kept my distance from my family as I wanted to relax. I still saw what they were doing. Mother was doing the same as I. Lying on a towel in the shadow, while reading a book. Uncle Voldi and Aunt Bellatrix were building sandcastles with Delphi. Oma just sat in her klappchair (folding chair) with binoculars to watch birds (spy on people and stalk them) and her bottle with ‘water.’

I laid there for a while, playing games on my phone, texting friends, and listening to music. Then Delphi practically forced me to go swimming with her. I didn’t really want to, but I knew I would get in trouble if I didn’t. The water was cold but still comfortable. I played a little bit with Delphi and had actually fun with her. Suddenly Delphi started to freak out because something touched her foot. When I looked down to see the thing that caused my cousin trouble.

I saw a water owl with a bottlepost (Message in a bottle). I reached into the water to get the bottle, while I also tried to calm Delphi. Once she was calm, I sent her back to the beach. As soon she was gone, I opened the bottle, took out the rolled-up paper, unrolled it and read the message. As soon as I read the message, I sprinted out of the water and ran to my family. I shoved the message and bottle into Uncle Voldi’s hands. He looked at me questioningly but read it quickly.

All the colour drained of his face. DUMBledore and Harry Potter were on their way to us. Uncle Voldi explained the situation to the rest. Mother looked panicked, so did Aunt Bellatrix. Uncle Voldi looked afraid while Delphi had no clue what was going on. Oma was calm. “Please, there is no reason to panic. It’s just DUMBledore and a stupid child. We are way more powerful than they are. And I mean we don’t even have to fight them. Give me a minute with DUMBledore and I will seduce him. He may be your enemy, son but he has a cute butt.”

WTF? Oma thinks DUMBledore has a cute what?!” Mommy!” Uncle Voldi shrieked “Don’t say that. Ewwwwww.” Yeah, same. Ewwwwww. “I think we should come up with a plan to destroy them. And if that doesn’t work, we will try Oma’s plan.” Aunt Bellatrix said. “Bella’s right. We need a plan. Let’s pack our stuff and discuss this over pizza.” Mother said, agreeing. We gathered all our stuff and went to the next restaurant to discuss the upcoming war.

Day 4. After I woke up and got dressed the next day, I headed to the kitchen for breakfast. My family was already gathered at the table eating. Except Delphi since she hasn’t been allowed to hear about DUMBledore and Potter and our plans to defeat them. Father wasn’t there either. According to mother he was with Delhi. “DUMBledore and Potter are on their way here.

I don’t know how they know where we are.” Aunt Bellatrix said, exhausted. I definitely should not mention that Potter knows where we are because he saw my location on Snapchat. “That doesn’t matter now. They’re coming and we have to stop them. They’ll be here soon.” Mother said worried. “When they’re here I want Draco to take on Potter. He knows him the best and his weaknesses. I will take on DUMBledore.” Uncle Voldi said. “Lucius is going to stay with Delphi. Mommy, so will you.”

At that Oma made a small noise of protest but didn’t say anything. “Bella and Narcissa will help during the battle where they can.” Uncle Voldi added concluding. After breakfast we all did what Uncle Voldi told us. We were now allowed to use magic again. Yay:) We prepared ourselves for their arrival. I stood guard in the garden in case they show up here. Mother was by the gate. Aunt Bellatrix by the pool and Uncle Voldi in the house. “What do we have here?” said a familiar voice suddenly behind me.

I turned around to see Potter smirking at me with one of his charming smiles. I raised my wand at him and said: “Really, Potter? You couldn’t wait to see me again after my holiday, so you came all the way to Italy for me. How sweet of you.” He looked at me unimpressed and also raised his wand. “I’m here for Voldemort and not for you, Malfoy. And you know it. So, tell me where he is.” Potter said. “Don’t know where he is. Probably already fighting with DUMBledore.” I told him.

There was a sudden crash behind the house. Potter and I started running and once we reached the house, we saw Uncle Voldi and DUMBledore having a fist fight. Oma was also there chanting:''FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!!! Finish him off. Finish him off, Voldi!” Before anything could escalate Potter and I broke the fight off. They are both fragile, old men. They shouldn’t fight each other with their fists.

We had to hold both of them back. Oma was just standing there laughing. Mother and Aunt Bellatrix came. Both trying to hold their laughter. Once Uncle Voldi and DUMBledore were calm, Uncle Voldi said: “What do you want here, Albus?” “I want to defeat you, Voldi.” DUMBledore said calmly. Suddenly Uncle Voldi started yelling at DUMBledore and throwing insults at him. “Would you leave the lovely man alone, Voldi! There is no need to fight when you can manage all this over a good glass of fine wine.” Oma said flirtingly to DUMBledore. Gross. DUMBledore agreed, even though Potter protested. Yet he came with us to the house.

Once we reached the door, there was a weird noise that came from the roof. And suddenly a ziegelstone (brick) fell off the roof and hit DUMBledore on the head. DUMBledore fell to the ground, unconscious. Potter ran to his side, to check on him. He felt his pulse and shook his head. “Dead.” He spoke. It was silent until Uncle Voldi started a victory dance. Well at least I thought that it was. It also could’ve been a stroke.

“He is DEAD! He is DEAD! DUMBledore is dead! Juhu!!!” he sang while doing a cartwheel. I looked at Potter. He looked sad and broken, but I somehow saw a bit of relief in his eyes. He held onto DUMBledore and disapparated. While everybody celebrated DUMBledore’s death, I only thought of Potter’s charming smile and sparkling eyes.

[titanicsimp]

FANFICTION SEX ≠ REAL SEX

You probably read that title and were like yeah duh, obviously it’s not real, but it’s important that everyone realizes that smut is absolutely not how sex goes.

Below I’ll be laying out some differences.

Consent

Consenting to having sex with someone, is not consenting to kinks unless disclosed beforehand. In smut we just jump right into the kinky sex, no words exchanged beforehand on what’s a no no and what’s a yes, but in real life it’s extremely important to talk to your partner about it.

What not to do: Jump right into a scene while your partner had no clue that you were going to involve these kinks

What to do: Discuss the in and outs of what you are planning with your partner before you start any kind of foreplay. What kinks will be involved? What are your limits, what are theirs? Does there need to be a safe word? Do they have experience with the kinks, and if not, are they aware of how to perform them safely? Are they comfortable performing certain actions and having certain actions performed on them?

Choking

Who doesn’t know it these days. Choking is everywhere, including in fics. You might see us writers describing it as cutting off air, but never do that! For one, that is breathplay, a whole other kink, but it can also be extremely dangerous.

1. You need to have a clear mind while choking someone. Don’t be exhausted, don’t be angry, don’t be under the influence of alcohol or any kind of drug.

2. DONT PRESS DOWN ONTO THEIR ESOPHAGUS. Gently press down on either side of it, your hand in a V and only the fingertips making contact.

3. Start with only very light pressure and only increase it if you’re partner responds well.

4. Your partner should be able to answer you if you speak. If they can’t, stop what you’re doing immediately. Never choke someone so hard they cannot express words vocally.

5. Don’t continuously choke them, release pressure regularly and if they start being short of breath, gasping for air or coughing, seize what you are doing immediately.

Unsafe sex

Who has the time or need for protection in fanfics? Creampies are hot after all, but in real life they can give you a nice present in nine months and even diseases.

Always use a condom when you are engaging in sex with a partner who’s sexual history is unknown, or if you do know but aren’t on birth control yourself. Hormonal birth control pills are good against unwanted pregnancies, but they do nothing for STI’s.

And if you are in a steady relationship and on birth control but want to be extra safe? Use those condoms, it’s perfectly normal to continue use in those situations as well.

Anal

Don’t want babies? Do anal! Just kidding, anal isn’t the easy peasy alternative it seems to be in smut.

If you jump right into anal, it will hurt extremely and you can get injured! Lube doesn’t magically make you ready to take a dicking there either, you’ll first need to practice with much smaller things. You can slowly start with fingers (one at a time people), but toys are a very good way to do it and there are anal kits for beginners.

Lube is very important. Not just cum, not just girl juices, actual bottled lube. Water based lube is good for everything, including silicone toys. Meanwhile silicone based lube is generally softer/slicker and hypoallergenic, but damages silicone toys. NEVER use oil based lube in combination with condoms (and oil based lube increases chances of infection).

Anal can be messy. You can clean very well and even do anal douching (which isn’t needed, can increase infections and you have to be careful so do it only if you absolutely want it), and most of the ~mess~ will be gone. However, when an object is penetrating you there, accidents can happen. Putting a towel down and having wipes near is definitely recommended.

Wear or have your partner wear a condom during anal as well because you can still get STI’s from it!

Bondage

Time to get the rope bunnies hopping. With bondage you always risk a few bruises, but what are the biggest things you should keep in mind with specifically rope bondage?

1. Never put rope around your partner’s neck. No just absolutely no.

2. Make sure the ropes aren’t around your partner too tight, this counts for any spot it’s around. It can cut off the blood circulation or cause nerve damage and that’s very bad. Ask your partner if they are good and if they have a bit of wiggle space, and continue checking in during the scene. A finger should be able to slip in between the ropes.

3. Be careful with your partner. If they fall while they are tied up, they can’t catch themselves and get greatly injured.

4. Be wary of allergies! Some ropes are infused with scents or other chemicals that might cause an allergic reaction.

5. Never leave the person you tied up alone, keep your eye on them. They can have a medical emergency, get injured or just get scared.

6. Keep a tool nearby with which you can easily, safely and quickly cut the rope with. EMT shears are a good tool and relatively inexpensive. EMT shears have a flat, blunt, tipped lower blade which allows you to slide them along skin without accidentally cutting your partner. You can also get really high powered ones such as Raptor EMT shears that will cut through any kind of rope or fabric extremely quickly.

Stranger danger

Please my lovelies, don’t start a kink scene with a stranger. Kinks most often put you in a vulnerable position, so doing it with a stranger is not advised at all. I’m sure I don’t need to explain how bad it can go when a stranger is choking you or has you restraint.

Do it with a partner you trust and know. If you can’t or don’t want to, find a legal, good reviewed sex club/dungeon. The good ones have strict rules and keep an eye on all the members inside.

Everyone is a kink master

There are so many kinks out there that fit with so many different folks, fanfic represents only a small portion of them. In smut, almost everyone has a dirty kink that they like, but in real life it could easily be that you or your partner prefer ‘vanilla sex’. Not everyone needs to have or like kinks, it is completely up to you and no matter where you land with it it’s completely normal. Nobody is boring because of their preferences.

General awkwardness

Last but certainly not least. No sex goes completely smoothly and like a porn in real life. You or your partner might queef. You might get a cramp. You might bump into each other. You might gag. You might make a weird sound. It’s all part of the real experience, and most of the time only causes funny or intimate moments with your partner.

This is faaaar from all, but I hope this helps at least a bit. Writers sell a fantasy, an unattainable one that should not be chased. Enjoy your real sex like it’s meant to be; safe and silly yet hot. Leave the crazy scenarios to the fanfics ♥️

[miekasa]

any spare levi headcanons tonight????? 😁😁😁😁

Sure, why not, he is the love of my life after all. These are pretty random, and fit in some sort of generalized modern boyfriend au. Hopelessly domestic, as that is the nature of nearly everything I write for Levi, anyway. Also still terribly obsessed with the idea of him with a motorcycle, so there’s that.

He owns at least six black blazers. They’re nearly identical; slight differences in texture and cut, one with lapels, one that’s boldly all leather that you swear you’ve never seen him wear. They’re kind of his go-to staple, other than a sweater.

That being said, he doesn’t exclusively wear all black. His closet leans towards more neutrals, sure, but he’s not allergic to color. You might not catch him wearing neon orange on the average day, but he’s not averse to a nice shade of green, any shade of purple that suits his mood, even a softer pink.

He has towels and rags he sets aside especially for you when he comes over. He always washes them and put them back in place when you leave so that they’re ready to go for next time.

Claims to not have any attachment to the shows/dramas you watch, but he’s totally backseat watching. Halfway into every single series, he starts sitting down when you turn it on, and scoffs at dumb decisions the characters make.

He splurged on one of those frame TVs that look like a painting when they’re idle. It was a good investment in his opinion.

He doesn’t hate Starbucks drinks—there’s worse things out there in terms of quality of tea. What he despises about the establishment is the way they call out names for you to pick up your order. He’s learned that mobile order ahead is the way to go.

Has slippers for around the house, so consequently, you have slippers for walking around his house. He keeps both pairs (and a few extra for friends and guests) tucked neatly beside the door for easy access; yours always go next to his.

Does not understand the purpose of a robe. Buy him one tho and he will suddenly find an excuse to wear it: making breakfast, lounging around watching TV, doing some light cleaning and dusting. It’s comfy, alright, he can admit that much.

The little puppy you got him that he swore he was not going to warm up to now gets the royal treatment. The best doggie goods and treats, top rated shampoos, cutest drying towels, even a miniature couch he constructed just for the pup. They’re best friends, there’s no breaking that bond now.

Speaking of the puppy, affectionately named Captain, Levi can be found walking him every day shortly after work. They have a few different routes, but they always pass by the local vendors/market, who enthusiastically anticipate their appearance every day. Some of the older ladies running stands have even taken to bringing a few treats with them for Captain—after bundling up some goods for Levi, too, of course.

Captain also has a special doggy backpack Levi uses for when he’s on his motorcycle. If you follow anybody on TikTok in his area, you’re bound to see at least one video of the pup while Levi’s out riding. He’s become viral on social media without even knowing it.

(When you show him a video someone posted of him and Captain with well over 100k likes, and a million views, he only rolled his eyes. But remembers that particularly day; remembers the folks had a kid who politely asked to pet the dog, so he let him. He also maybe asks you to send the link to him).

On the subject of the motorcycle, there was a good few weeks he wouldn’t let you on it. Always found an excuse, a smart reply that was punctuated with gentle push on your forehead and calling you too clumsy for it. Later, you found out it’s because he’d ordered you a helmet; didn’t want to risk you riding without one.

He always keeps it in the storage compartment should he make a stop to pick you up while he’s riding; and he usually wears at least two layers to have a spare to wrap you in before you get on.

When he cooks, he always makes sure there’s enough for leftovers and/or to give you some later. He also bakes frequently, and at least once a week, he stops by with some kind of treat for you—“Trying out a new recipe, let me know if you think it’s missing anything.”

On the subject of food, he won’t police what you eat to annoying extent; he knows that not everybody has the time or will to make pasta from scratch like he does. But, he will smack your wrist if you consider ordering fast food when you’re over at this place. Give him 30 minutes and a single pan, he’ll make something much better than whatever you can find on Uber Eats.

Really, though, he doesn’t mean to obnoxious about the homemade food thing, it’s more habit for him. Growing up, he had to learn to be resourceful, so buying fast-food isn’t ever at the forefront of his mind. Cooking for you also turns out to be something somewhat intimate that he enjoys, so just let him.

Once bought an Apple Watch because he liked the look of them, it wasn’t insanely expensive like other high end watches, and it could connect to his other devices, so why not? A week later he returned it, the ping of his notifications were in one too many places for his liking.

You tried to convince him to keep it—“At least for when you’re jogging! It can track your activity and calories!”—but he clicks his teeth. He’ll survive without keeping track of them.

He learned the hard way that jogging with Captain is no good. His legs are too tiny and Levi ended up carrying the puppy the entire time. Captain is more of a walk dog… or ride on the back of his bike dog.

If you changed anything in his phone settings—like the ringtone for you contact, or the sound his keyboard makes—he wouldn’t go back in and try to figure out how to reset it. Unless it was something obnoxious, like adding an autocorrect shortcut to say something lewd.

He doesn’t really listen to music when he’s just walking. When he’s on a run, that’s fine, but he somewhat prefers to just… hear the environment around him when he’s on a stroll or a break from work. The only reason he’d have headphones on in public is to take a phone call, but even then, he’d prefer to wait until he’s somewhere more private.

He likes having you over at his apartment and has contemplated asking you to move in. He doesn’t want to rush anything, though, so he’s content with your sleepovers for now. (Though he really cannot fathom that you call them “sleepovers” like you’re 14. Please).

He speaks to his mother at least once a week, and she always asks about you. Levi tells her that you’re fine, gives her small updates about you, but Kuchel really just wants to know when the wedding is. He pretends to be busy whenever she starts asking and conveniently ends the call.

Occasionally, he’ll stop by and take you out for lunch. Depends on how much time he has during the day for himself, but he always enjoys sharing a meal with you.

Whenever you’re out with your friends drinking, Levi will pick you up. Even if you already told him that you’d Uber home; as soon as you text him that you’re going to leave soon, he’s already on his way.

He makes pretty good cocktails himself. Teases you for running his alcohol supply dry when the truth is he has more of your favorites in his cabinet than his own. He secretly likes the way you flirt with him when you’re tipsy.

You don’t always cuddle on top of each other when you sleep together. You can just lay by each other and that’s enough; but sometimes, you catch Levi turning towards you in his sleep, reaching for your hand. His body seems to search for yours subconsciously, and you swear there’s a hint of a smile on his sleeping face when you put your hand within reach.

Do not try to pay for dinner when you’re out with him. He’ll pull the “I’m going to use the restroom” move and pay the bill behind your back if he needs to. Open your own doors, maybe; pull out your own chairs, sure if you want; but not this.

He flosses very diligently every night. Mostly because he fucking hates the dentist, so if he takes the extra steps and is extra careful with his teeth, he doesn’t have to go as often, right?—Wrong, it’s the one time the roles are reversed, and you and Hange have to wrestle him into the doctor’s office.

On the flip side, if there are any doctors you routinely avoid and/or forget to schedule check ups for, fear not, because Levi will do it for you. He’ll drive you there, too—the only caveat being, that he usually doesn’t tell you where you’re going until you’re almost there. You think he’s doing the mysterious man surprise date thing and then boom, he’s pulling up to the ophthalmologist. Good luck.

He’s purchased a physical, paper copy of the news on every one of your anniversaries, birthdays, and other special occasions. He keeps them all neatly tucked away in a drawer. Sometimes, he looks back on them—sees what was happening in the world around you on that day. Maybe someday he’ll cut them up and bind them together in a book for you.

He doesn’t like having headphones in when you’re home with him, and preferred if you didn’t either—unless it was for work or school. He welcomes you to use his speakers and play your music aloud; he likes listening to what you listen to. If you look closely, you can catch him humming along or tapping his foot when he really likes a song.

Saves pictures you send him in an album in his camera roll. Occasionally can be found scrolling through them—particularly if you’ve been away on a trip, or he hasn’t gotten the chance to see you because of conflicting schedules.

He takes relatively short showers and doesn’t have a strong preference for the water temperature, so he lets you shower first. Unless you want him to join you, of course.

It’s not hard to tell when Levi wants you. He becomes noticeably more touchy, even if that margin isn’t too wide by anyone else’s standards; and he rarely tries to hide it. It only happens in the privacy of your apartments; but he’ll come on to you—leaning a bit further into conversations, a hand on your knee, a kind of cloudy look in his eyes.

Sometimes he forgoes the attempts at being subtle, just kisses you out the blue, carefully backs you up against the wall, puts his hands on your hips. He can be awfully direct when given the opportunity.

[lokilickedme]

I am very pleased to announce that after my mother, a drug lord, an entitled Karen with a vicious one-eyed dog, various noisy one-nighters at the motel, two irritable ranchhands and a herd of murderous peacocks, WE FINALLY HAVE GOOD NEIGHBORS.

My god it took moving 1200 miles to make it happen but it finally happened and I don’t even know what to do with myself, I’m so stupidly thrilled.  The lady is just old enough to be my mom, meaning she’s also just old enough to be Big and Little’s grandmom, which is exactly what all of us need...and yesterday she proved her willingness to be exactly that :)

(under the cut because there’s some blood and icky medical stuff mentioned)

.

So I’m fixing supper and using an abnormally sharp kitchen knife to separate frozen hamburger patties from each other, as one does when one is stupid, and the inevitable happens - slip, slice, MOTHERFUCK, blood.  Thumb damn near severed at the joint.  Husband is outside with the neighbor man, an exceptionally friendly old guy who tends to be exceptionally versed in just about everything you’re too lazy to look up on your own, so I slip on my fuzzy slippers and trot out there with my hand wrapped up in a paper towel to ask him and Tom if they think I need medical assistance.  Frank says “Alright lets see it” so I unwrap.

Tom literally steps back into the street clutching his stomach.  Frank nods his head once and says “Yep, better get goin’.”  But since medical care is a little bit out of the question at the moment monetarily, I gotta argue about it.  So Frank tells me to go inside his house and ask his wife, she’s raised a bunch of kids and grandkids and has seen some shit.  I’m 53, about to be 54, and have seen some shit too...but something about a mom-aged older lady telling me what to do sounds really good right about now.  That plus I’m getting a bit lightheaded and my blood pressure is soaring.

So I go inside and Maryanne is sitting at the kitchen table in an EYE PATCH, which...shame on me, I bust out laughing and just almost call her Director Fury.  I’m gonna plead blood loss and shock at having my almost-amputated thumb wrapped up in a Bounty Quicker Picker Upper and let it go at that.  She gives me a quick summation, something about eye shots for a condition she has, and points at my hand.  “What’d you do, let’s see it.”

I unwrap and hold it out.  “You think it needs stitches?”

She doesn’t even bat an eye.  She literally can’t because of the eye patch, but still.  “Yep, two.  At least.”  She puts down the pill bottle and starts to stand up.  “You going in those?”  She’s looking down at my fuzzy slippers, which are now muddy and messing up her floor.

Ugh, I don’t want stitches.  Mostly I don’t want a $1400 ER bill, but I’ve had enough stitches in my life thanks.  “Think I can get away with just, like, taping it back together?  I did that with Little’s eyebrow.”

She gives me that look.  “So that’s what happened to him.”

Tom and Frank come stomping in just about then and Tom pulls out his phone.  “My friend is a vet, he can sew it up.”

Frank busts out laughing.  “You’re gonna send your wife to a vet?!”

Tom, I swear to god, is already dialing.  “Yeah, he’s a horse vet.”

Maryanne sighs, and then in a defining moment that I will always remember as the exact moment I decided this is my new mom, clears her throat and says, “Neiiiiiiigh.”  You know, like a horse neigh’ing.  Also indicating NO.  She waves her hand at me as she’s heading out of the room.  “Sit down before you fall down, are you allergic to tea tree oil?”

.

About a half hour later she’s got me patched up.  Thumb still attached, very clean and sanitized and antibacc’ed to hell and back, pulled tight with surgical tape and wrapped and bound with gauze and nice neat little closing bandages.  No vet necessary, though Tom does go ahead and call him (for the record he told us to go the ER, he was on his day off and wasn’t in the mood to stitch human pieces back on...he doesn’t like humans very much).  And Maryanne tells me I still should see a medical professional because even though she’s done a pretty professional looking job herself, she can’t vouch for the lack of severed tendons or what have you.  She could tell while it was gaping open that I’d cut into the cartilage, but beyond that, who knows?  Damn knife set the realtor gave us as a new-house gift...Maryanne says they gave her one too and the first thing she did was slice off a fingertip.  Somebody oughtta sue.

Anyway, a couple of hours later the shock has worn off and the pain has set in and I can see the tip of my thumb is starting to turn a concerning shade of deep plum, so Tom calls his mother and we ask her a bunch of leading questions until her memory kicks back in and she starts spouting directions to an emergency walk-in clinic that’s cheaper than the hospital ER.  The best she can do is name off a couple things around it, so I Google until I find it, and then I drive myself out there and stick my wrapped hand up on the desk and tell the receptionist, “You don’t want to see this, but there’s a thumb held on with a bandaid under all that.  Can somebody look at it?”

Ten or so minutes later - me and one surly man who sits staring angrily at me are the only ones there - I’m in a treatment room with a practitioner and she’s unwrapping my thumb while I sit with my eyes closed, because I know that sucker’s gonna fall off and roll across the table as soon as she undoes all that gauze and I don’t want to watch her scramble to catch it.  And then she says “Wow, somebody did a good job.”

The cut - over an inch long and all the way to the bone - is closed and holding nicely.  I can move my thumb and it doesn’t fall off.  There’s no concerning swelling or freaky discoloration - the deep plum was simply because Maryanne had wrapped it so tight - and everything seems to be non-catastrophic.  The doc betadine’s it and then slathers a bunch of surgical glue all over it and binds it back up and I’m headed home again ten minutes later with my thumb still attached, no stitches, a narrowly escaped tetanus shot (thank god it was a brand new knife) and by god a new mom.  I’m claiming her, she’s mine.  Next door neighbor lady doesn’t know what she’s getting into but she’s got a new daughter and some new rowdy grandkids, and I’ve already broken her in real good and proper by bleeding on her table and tracking mud across her kitchen floor.  We’re bound for life now.

She’s even short and redheaded, you guys.  We look more alike than me and my real mother do.

And she doesn’t own a dog.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Spencer to The Rescue

Summary: Spencer helps reader, who suffers from seasonal allergies, put in her eye drops.

Word Count: 1034

Author’s Note: this is me so don’t judge about being a baby for eye drops lol

Spencer cracks his neck loudly, but the pop isn’t the only noise that permeates the small apartment. All the way from their little reading nook, Spencer can hear Y/N sneezing nearly 12 times in succession. As much as he loves her, Spencer can’t help but roll his eyes. Despite her horrible seasonal allergies, Y/N rather suffer than put in eyedrops.

Bookmarking his spot in his book, Spencer sets it down on the love seat. He debates walking into the kitchen and trying to convince Y/N to put in the eye drops. Part of him knows that it’s futile: she hates eye drops. But another part, a sensitive part of him, aches painfully when his girlfriend is uncomfortable. Giving up when he hears the kitchen sink run, Spencer makes up his mind.

“Y/N,” he calls, stepping into the kitchen, “come on, love, just put the eye drops in,” he says, practically begging her as he watches her wash her face in the sink for the tenth time this morning.

“I’m fine, Spence,” she claims, wiping her face with a dish towel. The inside of her eyes are an angry, irritated red. Spencer, though not a real doctor, can recite the symptoms of allergic reactions of the eye, “Really,” she says, unconvincingly.

“No you're not, Y/N. I can tell your allergies are killing you,” Spencer says, sitting down at the kitchen table, “I know you hate eye drops, but just please listen to me. I’m a doctor,” he contests, trying his best to convince her.

“You’re not a real doctor, Spencer,” Y/N says, narrowing her eyes as she moves to sit next to Spencer, “besides, you’re just as bad as I am with eye drops,” Y/N challenges, referring to his refusal to go back to contacts after starting to wear glasses again.

“If I recall correctly,” Spencer says, with a sudden gust of confidence, “you’re the one who begged me to stop wearing contacts. I think you like my glasses,” he claims, smirking at her eye roll.

“Don’t be a brat, Spencer,” Y/N says to him, in a voice that tells him to ought to listen, “it’s not a good color on you, my love,”

“I’ll be good if you put in eye drops?” Spencer offers, leaning on his hands and smiling devilishly, “I want you to be comfortable, Y/N. Please let me help you?” he asks, sounding like her comfort would bring him more comfort.

“Fine,” she says, sighing, “you can be quite cute when you’re begging. I’d say keep up the good work, but I’ve taken so much Benadryl that I’m going to fall asleep,”

“Go lay on the bed,” Spencer requests, “I’ll be right in, and I promise you, Y/N, I won’t hurt you,” Spencer says, looking into her eyes with all the serenity in the world.

“Too good for your own good,” Y/N says as she walks by, kissing his forehead on her way out of the kitchen, “and, even though you’re not a real doctor, I don’t trust anyone more than I trust you,” Y/N says, disappearing around the corner.

Grabbing the eye drops, Spencer finds his way to the bedroom. Y/N lays on the bed, rubbing her eyes. Spencer sits down on the bed and rubs his hand along Y/N’s leg in a comforting gesture. He knows she’s nervous and he’ll try anything to ease the nerves. Spencer, scooting up so he can place her head in his lap, smiles awkwardly.

“Did you know,” Spencer starts, brushing Y/N’s hair from her eyes as he talks quietly, “that seasonal allergies are exacerbated by emotional stress, as well as the hormone estrogen?” He talks softly as his fingers skim along her skin. Spencer knows that Y/N gets anxious about putting something near her eyes, so the least he can do is ease the anxiety.

“Hmm,” Y/N says, her eyes shutting as soon as Spencer’s hand, holding the small bottle of eye drops comes into her line of vision, “please, Spence,” Y/N says, sounding desperate and a little scared.

“I’m sorry, I forget that the facts don’t help,” Spencer says sheepishly. He retreats his hand back to the side of Y/N’s face, “we can try again,” he tells her, his thumbs brushing over her eyes, nose, and down to her lips.

“No I like the facts, tell me more,” Y/N requests. Despite loving her for quite awhile, Spencer can never tire of the small moments when she makes his heart flutter, “and this is much better than when I was little. I was quite the fighter,” she says, sighing as she thinks back into the past.

“More facts, okay,” Spencer says, “Contrary to popular belief, flowers don’t trigger allergies. Weeds, especially ragweed, trees, and grasses do,” Spencer says, “okay, love, I’m going to put the drops in the corner of each eye. All you have to do is blink really quickly,” he instructs.

“Okay,” Y/N says, sounding unsure, “Spence?” she asks.

“Yes, Y/N,” he answers, brushing across her face again.

“Please hold my hand,” she requests, “God, I’m such a baby,” Y/N whines, keeping her eyes shut as Spencer plops the drops.

“Yeah, but you’re my baby,” Spencer says, squeezing her hand, “okay, Y/N, blink really rapidly,” he instructs.

Blinking as she lays on the bed with her head in Spencer’s lap, Y/N eyes sting from the medicine. Despite her initial reservations, she knows that the eye drops help. She’s just had a very difficult time taking them to the point where it was just easier to deal with the allergy symptoms.

“Better?” Spencer asks, not letting go of her hand as he peers down at his girlfriend.

“Better,” Y/N confirms, twisting around and climbing up to rest her head against Spencer’s chest.

“Do you have any facts that seasonal allergies are cured by sleeping in bed all day with your personal doctor?” Y/N asks, already tossing the covers over Spencer’s upper half.

“No,” Spencer says, laugh as Y/N practically drags him further down the bed, “but we can conduct a study if you’d like,”

[doubleleoenergy]

Daddy Issues

Nobody does it like you do. I know how much it matters to you. I know that you got daddy issues

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, fingering (female receiving), oral (male receiving), Daddy Kink, passionate sex

Word Count: 2361

Author’s Notes: My GRAYstans unite! I have unlocked a new passion for Daddy!Grayson. Also, my headers either feature the reader image as Malia Tate from Teen Wolf or Jane Villanueva from Jane the Virgin.

“Are you SURE you want to make Sledge’s doghouse from scratch?” You asked, following your boyfriend, THE Grayson Dolan, into the backyard. Grayson and you had just adopted a puppy that he was FINALLY not allergic to, and he had become quite obsessed with wanting the absolute best for your new pup

“Babe, do you REALLY want our son to have some basic and boring dog house for the backyard, or wouldn’t it be more fitting for him to have a MANSION like the king he is?” Grayson suggests, wagging his thick eyebrows at you.

You gently shove his side, rolling your eyes at his response. “Fine, Sledge and I will just MONITOR your progress by the pool.” You call back to the pup, watching him gallop towards you both, wagging his tail. Grayson moves towards the garage to bring all of the wood and materials needed for the project onto the grassy area next to the pool, arranging the pieces by length.

Sledge lays down in the grass next to your lounge chair as you sit down, tightening your lavender string bikini bottoms on your hips. Today was GORGEOUS, the sun shining and the heat not sweltering, allowing for the perfect day to tan while you watched Grayson work.

You decided to start by tanning your back, lying with your face propped on a towel in the foldout chair. Your hands hold your phone out, scrolling through Instagram as you soaked in the summer rays.

Grayson started his plans by sawing the boards to the perfect length, pulling a pair of safety goggles over the top of his tousled long locks. You eye him carefully from where you lay, watching as he handled the saw with ease, cutting the board to its perfect size before continuing on to the next piece. Your eyes linger on the curve of his back muscles squeezing through the black tank top that clung to his figure.

Sledge barked, pulling you from your daze, demanding attention beside you. You place the phone by your side, smiling down as you sit up slightly to provide your furbaby with the attention he craved. “Are you watching Daddy work? Well, so is MOMMY.” You coo, running your fingers through his soft fur.

A half hour goes by, Grayson diligently putting together the pieces of wood, sweat dripping from his hair down through his beard. You decide it’s a good time for a hydration break, Sledge following you back inside the kitchen where you grab two bottles of water along with a dish to pour some out for your pooch.

“Gray, how about you take a quick break?” You chirped, approaching him as he leaned over and inspected his work. You hand him one of the water bottles, opening the other and pouring half into the dog dish you set beside your feet, Sledge lapping happily at the bowl.

“How’s it looking so far, boss?” Grayson teased, standing back to let you inspect his work. You tilt your head from side to side, putting your fingers out as a ‘frame’, closing one eye and then the other. Grayson let out a laugh as he watched you pretend to inspect like a ‘real’ boss, a huge grin spreading on his face.

“I’d say it looks sturdy so far, keep up the good work, EMPLOYEE.” You place a kiss to his cheek, sauntering back over to your lounge chair, sitting down to let the rays tan the front of your body.

After a few minutes of lapping at the water bowl Sledge moves back over to you, rolling happily in the grass. Grayson feels sweat drenching his black tank top, a mixture of the heat of the sun and the work he was putting into his project. He grabs the hemline and tugs it off, tossing the sweaty material in the grass next to him.

You can’t help but stop and OGLE at him when he removes it, a sinful image playing out in your mind. Your eyes roam over his sculpted chest, remembering how it felt when you ran your hands up and down his abdomen. Your eyes move up to look at his hair, long locks sticking to his forehead as he continues his work on the dog house. Lastly, your eyes fixated on his hands, watching the veins protruding as he hammered nails into the wood, forming the outside walls of what would be Sledge’s humble abode. Grayson looked DELICIOUS, and you couldn’t help the way your stomach flip-flopped at the sight, his cerulean swim trunks clinging to his hips.

“Hey G-Gray, I’m gonna go inside, watch Sledge for me, please?” He nodded, eyes fixated on the task at hand. You took one last glance in his direction, taking a mental picture before pulling open the screen door and heading directly towards your shared bedroom. 

You needed relief after watching him work, he wasn’t even TRYING to seduce you and yet you still felt dampness between your thighs. You opened the bedroom door and shut it behind you. Your body stumbled forward, flopping back against the bed, shimmying out of your bikini bottoms, tossing them to the floor.

Your eyes fluttered closed, REWINDING the image of Grayson working outside in your head, the back of your lids acting as a screen for the projected image. Your delicate fingers slid down your chest to your core, circling around your bundle of nerves and letting out a soft moan. You pictured the way he tossed his shirt off, how the sweat GLISTENED on his skin, that perfect beard you refused to let him shave.

Fingers move lower, parting your folds and moving in and out of your core, arching your back against the bed. You continued pumping your fingers in and out, feeling that familiar buildup in your chest when you heard the bedroom door open, Grayson taking in the sight of you.

“What are you doing, babygirl?” He asked, arms crossing against his bare chest. Your eyes snap open, sitting up straight and pulling the blanket over you. As if he HADN’T seen what you were doing just moments ago.

“N-Nothing, I think I am just exhausted from the sun. I figured I needed to lay down and rest a bit.” You stuttered, a hand moving from below the blanket to scratch nervously through your locks.

Grayson’s eyes grew dark as he approached you on the bed, standing just at the edge of it and holding your gaze. “Babygirl, don’t LIE to me, you know I don’t like it when you lie.” He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at you, eyes still locked on yours. “Were you TOUCHING yourself?” He asked.

Your cheeks start to feel hot, a rosy blush spreading across them. “Y-Yes, I was. You just looked so good outside and I didn’t want to bother you while you were working so I came in here and-” Grayson holds out his hand, silencing you before you can finish your sentence.

“You’re forgetting the rules, babygirl, REMIND me what they are.” He questioned, his voice lowering an octave. Your bottom lip quivers, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. “N-No touching myself, only DADDY gets to touch me.” You whispered, your gaze darting to the bed to avoid his stare.

“Look at ME.” He demanded, his tone making your eyes snap up immediately. “Yes, only daddy gets to touch you, and what happens when we disobey, babygirl?” You swallow the lump in your throat, eyes going wide. 

“Y-You, you get PUNISHED.”

“Exactly.” He responds, two fingers beckoning you towards the edge of the bed. “Turn around, ass up.” You follow his instructions, crawling to the edge of the bed and turning around. Grayson’s fingers grab your neck, pushing your head down against the mattress. “You’re going to count to ten for me, if you stop counting we’ll start all OVER.”

The first smack across your ass made your pussy tighten, wincing slightly at the burn of his thick hand against your skin. “O-One.” You sputtered. 

“Good girl, keep counting.” He commands, sending another smack to your flesh.

“T-Two...three...four...five.” Tears are welling up in your eyes, a mix of both pleasure and pain through each strike to your tanned skin. You don’t want to falter though, you know it’ll be MUCH worse if you add more slaps to the count.

“S-six...seven...eight...nine...ten.” Tears are now flowing down your face, staining your cheeks in the light coat of mascara you had applied that morning. Grayson moves the pressure off your neck, letting out a deep breath.

“What a good GIRL, see, I knew you could be good for me.” He flexes his hand in a fist and then stretches it out over and over, relaxing the muscles as the sting starts to dissipate. “I think it’s time that I get a THANK YOU.” You know EXACTLY what he’s asking, turning around to face him, eyes level with the thick bulge in his shorts.

“Yes daddy.” Your fingers tug down the shorts, his thick cock springing free against his chest. You lick your lips before reaching up, taking his cock into your hand and SLOWLY stroking it. Your mouth parts, lips curling around the tip, sucking and licking before moving them lower and lower down the base.

His fingers move to grip your hair, a groan of delight leaving his lips. “That’s it baby, open your mouth, let me fuck that perfect mouth of yours.” You do as you’re told, relaxing your jaw and letting him slide further. Not only was he thick, but LONG, tears welling up as he pushed all the way in, your nose touching the skin right below his belly button. He uses your hair as his reins, bucking his hips in and out, a mixture of your spit DRIPPING from the sides of your lips down your chin and neck. Grayson keeps his eyes on you, watching you sputter around him, his teeth grinding together. 

“Fuck, so beautiful.” He pulls out abruptly, a string of saliva linking your mouth to his cock, and you feel utterly EMPTY. Grayson tilts your head up with his hand, ushering you to get up. “That’s enough, don’t want to cum in your mouth today, want to cum inside you.”

His hands push you back against the bed, untying the bikini top you still wore, revealing your bare breasts to him. His hand moves to grip his cock, rubbing the red and swollen tip against your folds, a dark smile on his face. “You are already SO wet, babygirl. Do you want me to fuck you?” You nod up at him but you know that’s not what he wants, he wants you to use your WORDS.

“Yes, Gray...I mean, daddy. Please fuck me, want to feel you cum inside me.” The words are satisfaction, the code that unlocks his motions as he pushes inside of you, working in slowly as your walls INSTINCTIVELY tighten around him, pulling him deeper. After a moment he bottoms out, holding himself there, looking down at you.

“So fucking tight, babygirl. Your cunt was MADE for me.” He moves his hips, pulling out almost completely before slamming himself back in, eliciting a whine from your throat. He continues at the same pace, pulling almost completely out and pushing back in fast, your voice becoming louder which each thrust.

“Gotta keep it down, you know Ethan is still sleeping. Wouldn’t want to wake him up. Or maybe you do, huh?” He asked, two of his fingers snaking between your breasts down to your clit, circling it. “Want Ethan to know that you’re a SLUT for my cock? How your daddy is the only one that can please you?”

You moan loudly, your voice hoarse from the way he fucked your throat earlier. “Yes daddy, I want EVERYONE to know I’m yours.” His hips slap into you over and over, fingers circling your clit with more pressure now. He can tell you’re close to coming, your walls clenching and unclenching him, your thighs shaking as his own hold you apart.

“Uh-uh, gotta ASK if you can cum babygirl, you know better.” Grayson’s free hand moves to your neck, wrapping around it JUST enough that your breathing gets harder, but not enough that you might pass out.

“Fuck, PLEASE daddy, want to cum on your cock, want to show you how good I can be.” You choked out, picturing the way his hands had moved around the wood and saw earlier that were now around your throat.

Grayson is pleased by your words, eyes focusing on your face and his fingers rubbing against you faster. “Yes, babygirl, CUM on my cock.” He can barely finish his sentence before your orgasm hits you, crying out loudly, tears flowing from your eyes with pleasure. He continues his movements, feeling your walls tightening around him and knowing he can’t hold on anymore. “Gonna cum, baby, gonna coat your walls with me, want you LEAKING my cum.” A groan of satisfaction leaves his lips, his cock pressed deep inside you as he spurts thick ropes of cum into you. Your eyes roll back into your head, closing them as you continue coming down from your high, his hand moving off of your neck so you can fully breathe. His hips stutter briefly, letting you milk his cock before he pulls out, noticing your dazed state.

“Hey...come back to me baby.” He whispered, moving to lay down next to you, placing gentle kisses all over your face. Your eyes FINALLY flutter open, a lazy smile on your lips. “Sorry about that, you really did just look so good I couldn’t help myself.” Grayson let out a deep chuckle, tugging you into his side, his fingers roaming up and down your back.

“Don’t apologize baby, next time just tell me and I’ll stop to USE you how you need to be used.” He glances at the door, hearing a whine from Sledge, pulling him back to reality. “Our SON wants you.”

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nope, YOU can deal with him now, you fucked all of the energy out of me.”

Tagging my GRAYstans: @midnightf​ | @certainaesthetic​

[remuscore]

omg if you wrote a fic that would be amazing

Okay lmao you accidentally send this twice but it works out for me bc I'm gonna use this to post the story.

Warnings: Dissociation, tiny bit of self-destruction.

Inspo: here

-------

“Remus.”

Remus jumped awake, suddenly aware of the rush of running water and a sting in his hands. His eyes still couldn’t seem to see what was going on though, everything was kind of a blur. Maybe his eye was acting up again? That would only explain half of the problem though, so probably not. Maybe he should try listening to whatever that guy talking to him was saying and he might be able to figure this thing out.

“What are you doing?” Roman asked in frustration. He’s probably said it a couple times now. Or not. He did get frustrated really easily.

Okay, so it was Roman who was talking to him. Remus focused on turning his head and focusing on his sash and gold clasps on his suit, trying to take in the little details. It was so much harder than he had expected, but finally he could see enough to lift his head and see Roman’s annoyed expression.

“Uh,” Remus turned back towards the running sink. He noticed how full it was and the little bubbles making the dishes disappear under the milky water. He lifted his hands and saw they were currently drowning in the water, holding onto a sponge and bowl. “Washing the dishes?”

“Why?”

“I… don’t know?”

Remus kept staring at the water. His hands were red and he could tell he was going to get a rash later from this. But instead of pulling his hands away, he kept washing the dishes. His head felt too bloated with thoughts he couldn’t even grab onto to question his choices at the moment.

He jumped as someone grabbed his arm and pulled it from the sink. His sleeves were dripping onto the tiles, having not pulled them up while he was cleaning. He was led away from the kitchen. He became more aware of what was happening as the dripping fell on the carpet and he finally noticed that it was Roman that had grabbed him.

“What are you doing?” Remus mumbled. His throat hurt.

Roman turned back to him, but Remus couldn’t get his mind working enough to figure out what look he was giving him. “Getting you a towel. You’re allergic to our dish soap, dude, why were you washing the dishes?”

“What?”

Roman gave him another look, but didn’t say anything. He pushed him down onto the couch and disappeared out of Remus’ view. Remus just sat there, his hands and sleeves slowly soaking through his knees. He stared down at them. His fingers ran up and down his arm, over the rough ridges of the fabric. He hated all the boning (heh) and corduroy on his suit sometimes, but he loved the uncomfortable chill that ran down his spine every time he touched them. It didn’t really do anything to him right now, but it was still fun.

“Alright, I’m back,” Remus lifted his head and momentarily stopped his hand as Roman sat next to him. His brother took his hands and started drying them off with an incredibly soft towel. Normally, it would itch with the rash growing on his hands, but it wasn’t that bad. “I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do when you have a reaction like this, but we’ll just get it off of you first and worry about the rest later.”

Remus didn’t say anything. Well, maybe he did because Roman was looking at him again, but he’s pretty sure he didn’t. If he did, he doesn’t remember. While drying his hands, Roman was also patting down and squeezing water out of Remus’ sleeves, pulling them up to reveal more rashes starting to form. One of them made a sound of disgust and Roman gently patted them dry too.

Remus wasn’t sure how long it took to do all of this. His mind felt all foggy and his tongue was bothering him. It felt too big for his mouth and he thought about just letting his jaw relax and let it hang out and dangle for a bit, but he didn’t feel like putting the effort in to do it. He was really tired.

He flinched.

Roman pulled the towel away. “What?”

“What?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No?” Remus frowned. What was he talking about? “I’m just tired, I dunno.”

Roman stared at him for a long while, but Remus wasn’t really paying attention. His shoulders felt really heavy and he felt like all he could do was just stare at his hands. Everything was unfocused and blurry and he knew what that meant. Somewhere in his brain, he knew what was going on. He just didn’t feel like stopping it. He just needed something to fiddle with and stare at.

“Do you want to take a nap than?” Roman asked slowly. Remus wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t know what to do or he just thought talking slowly would make him understand it better. Their conversation has been very confusing in the past few minutes so he couldn’t blame him.

Remus shrugged one of his shoulders. “Eh.”

Roman didn’t seem to know how to take that. They merely just sat there for a minute, both still. Remus took advantage of that and picked at the towel with his nail.

“Alright, let’s just lay down, I guess,” Roman tossed the towel on the coffee table and wrapped an arm around Remus. He didn’t notice until his head hit Roman’s shoulder that he had changed him out of his normal outfit. The Duke lazily looked down at himself to see that Roman had changed him into his Beast onesie. Probably because Remus didn’t own pajamas. Did he?

He dropped his head on his shoulder again and his hand came up to fiddle with Roman’s sash. It was really silky. Remus’ felt like that cheap lace you have for tutus. This definitely felt better to touch and play with. Especially with his sensitive hands.

“Is this better?” Roman gently pulled on the sleeve of Remus’ arm again and for a second he thought he was pulling him away, but he just pulled it down real quick to look at the rash before pulling it back up and patting it. Remus didn’t respond directly, but he did settle a bit closer. Roman moved his hand to squeeze his bicep.

“You’re okay, Rem."

[clouditae]

Cookies

Jimin x reader | 18+ | oneshot | neighbors au | smut | oral | roleplay | swearing

Word: 3.2k

You made cookies, and it’s only fair to share it with your neighbors

You wave goodbye to your elderly neighbor, her wrinkled smile making your smile grow. You're going to miss her the most. You wish you didn't have to move, but with your promotion and them relocating you, there isn't much of a choice. You love your little, cozy apartment, and if the commute isn't so far, you’d stay. You'll miss your neighbors too. Well, the ones you talk to and know well enough to invite over for dinner.

Looking down in your hands was the last bag of baked cookies. Letting out a breath, you quickly fix your hair and dress. The last person to receive your cookies is your neighbor Jimin. The neighbor that all young women and men know about. The neighbor everyone wants to fuck, and some got lucky enough to do so. You only know because he makes the girls scream, and it only makes you wish you were one of them.

You'd never do it. It would only make you feel like just another one of his... play things. Through the numerous glances and seductive talks he would give you, you thought it would be best to show him what he's missing. For not asking you out once you suppose. You walk up to his door, room 33 and knock. Suddenly you feel ridiculous for dressing up so much. You're just saying bye, thanks and hand him his cookies. Why go over the top?

The sound of the lock turning told you it’s too late to change your mind. The door opens to reveal Jimin with nothing but a towel wrapped around him. Your eyes can't help but wander from his black hair sticking to his forehead to his toned abs shining from the water drops that are sliding down and disappearing beyond the black towel. You really wish you can see what’s underneath.

"Can I help you, princess?" he asks, voice raspy and just...

You blink and meet his eyes. "I just wanted to give you these as a thank you and farewell." He looks down at the bag in your hands, a brow lifted. "I'm moving next week, so I just wanted to give these to you. If you're allergic or something—"

"You can leave them on my counter," he says, opening the door wider for you as he walks away.

"I'm sorry?"

"The kitchen is to the left." He points down a doorway as he continues down the hall. "I'm going to change real quick." Then he disappears, leaving you standing outside his entrance.

You didn't know what to do but thought it was best to do what he says rather than stand there like an idiot when he comes back. So, you enter the apartment, close the door behind you, and make your way down the hall and enter the kitchen. You couldn't help but gawk at how nice and clean his kitchen is. White walls, dark wood cabinets and a small table in the corner for two people. What if he was a chef? With all the high end appliances, he must be a great cook. Realizing you're admiring his kitchen and still holding the baked goods, you walk over to his counter and set the cookies down. Is this marble?

"So you're moving?" You jump at the sound of his voice. You turn around, mouth open to answer his question—where is his shirt? Where is his shirt? He's obviously doing this on purpose. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorway. "You're moving?"

You shake your head, eyes going up to where his are. "Yeah. I got a raise and I'm being relocated, so it's best to find an apartment closer to where I work." He hums in response but nothing more. You move to the side and point to his gift. "This is a thank you and farewell gift."

"Thank you," he repeats, his head cocking lightly to the side in what looks like confusion.

"Yeah. A thank you for helping me when it came to my groceries, my mail and a lot of other things you didn't need to help me with but did. So, thank you." You open the bag out of nervousness because you don't know what to do now. "Would you like to try one?" you ask him, holding the bag open but not grabbing one. He might not like you touching his food. You don't know. You're nervous.

Jimin pushes himself off the doorway and walks over to you. You forced your eyes to stay on his. You know that if you look down at his pajama pants, you could probably see his junk. You're not a pervert. Nope. He is standing very close to you as he grabs a cookie out from the bag. Wow, he smells nice. Like pinewood? You're not sure but you could smell this all day.

"So you came over to give me these," he begins, stepping closer to you and forcing you to step back, "wearing my favorite dress of yours." You're backed up against the counter, his body a few inches from yours. His mint breath was fanning your face. You couldn't meet his intense gaze as you decided to look at his neck.

There was one time you wore this dress and you met Jimin in the hallway. You suppose in his flirty tone he complimented your dress. You felt butterflies when he told you what he thought.

"I... I didn't know it was your favorite dress," you half lie. You knew he liked it because of the compliment, but you didn't know he'd act like this with you wearing it. Alone. In his apartment.

He hums again. "Turn around."

"What?" you mumble, looking up at him.

"Turn around," he commands, and you do. Never touching his body with your own. "This is my favorite dress because of the back." You feel his finger brush along your bare back. Your dress had an open in the back. Not big, but enough to see. "Do you know what this dress does to me?" He places his hands on the counter, trapping you between his arms.

"No," you whisper, heart racing. You gasp, suddenly feeling him against you, his lower region fully on your butt. You could swear you feel his half erect member.

"The first time I saw you wearing this I wanted to rip it off you," he rasps in your ear. "Let you know just how hard you make me." He grinds against you, his penis getting more and more erect.

You let in a shaky breath. "I-um"—you swallow, gripping the bag for dear life— "I have to meet my boyfriend soon."

"Your boyfriend?"

You nod. "I have a boyfriend."

"You want to leave?" You can only nod, voice wanting to betray you with a small moan. "You're not attracted to me." You shake your head in agreement. "Then why are you moving your hips?"

At his words, you realized that you were moving your hips. You were grinding against him just like he was doing to you. "I don't know," you lie, but you actually stop and so does he.

"Where's your phone?" he asks you.

"In my pocket." The reason you love this dress so much is because of the pockets it has. It's amazing.

You feel him dig in your pocket and pull out your phone, handing it to you. "Text him and tell him you won't be coming," he instructs as you take your phone.

Your eyes widen. "I can't do that."

"Up to you, princess. I'm in the mood, and the things I can do to you..." he trails off, his hands on your hips and lower until it reaches the end of your dress.

You're a mess. You don't know what to do. With Jimin sliding his hands up your thighs under your dress was not helping. His fingers leave a hot trail in his wake and all you wanted to do was feel more of him. Feel his hands roam your body and feel his member inside of you. You're horny and you want him. So, you send a text to your boyfriend.

"Good girl," he tells you, voice deep and silky. He places a hand on your upper back and pushes you forward, forcing you to lean on the counter. He pushes your dress up until it reaches the middle of your back. He chuckles and you realize you're wearing a thong. "Picking all my favorites today." His hands are on your ass, squeezing them before he slaps your butt. You jump a bit, the bag of cookies now out of your hands. He was now at the bands of your underwear, pulling it down until it fell on its own. "So this boyfriend of yours," he begins, his feet lightly kicking your own to spread your legs, "have you had sex with him yet?"

You think back, but find it hard when his fingers brush along your walls. "Y-yes." How much longer until you feel his fingers in you?

"Is he good?"

Was he? "Yes." It's been so long since the two of you had sex. Always busy. Never has time. He finally reaches your bud. "He always makes sure I'm the first to come. Sometimes it happens twice before he comes." You moan as his fingers move in a circular motion.

"Do you think I'm bigger than him?" he inquires, his other hand swiftly unbuttoning the first two buttons of your dress to cup your breast and play with it.

"I don't know," you breathe, swirling your hips to try and feel more. Much to your dismay, he removes his fingers from your womanhood and your breast.

You want to complain but he orders, "On your knees, sweetheart." You're hot and bothered but do as told. Turning around to face him, you get on your knees, looking up to meet him. He only nods at you and you knew what he wanted. You grab the band of his sweats, heart racing with excitement as you pull them down. His cock was a lot bigger than your boyfriend’s. You're beyond excited now as you grab his warm, throbbing tool, bringing your mouth closer to it.

You back up at him, staring at him with lust as you slowly lick the tip. He licks his own lips in anticipation. You give another lick but this time starting at the end of his base and make your way up like you're licking a lollipop. "C'mon baby," he whispers, his hand pushing back a few strands of hair away from your face before holding all of it in his hands. "Show me how badly you want me."

Oh you want him all right. Doing one more lick at his tip, you finally put as much of him as you can in your mouth. You push further before pulling back, making sure you hollow out your cheeks. This motion continues for a while, slow and then quick all while Jimin curses under his breath. It seems like he let you go at your pace for a while before he decided it wasn't enough. With your hair in his hand, he guides you. His breathing is going ragged and he's now thrusting into your mouth rougher and deeper to the point where your nose is touching his waist and your eyes are watery. After a few more deep thrusts you feel his warm fluid fill your mouth. He pulls out and you swallow, breathing heavily.

Jimin can only smirk, releasing your hair and helping you up to your feet. "Bedroom, princess." You leave his kitchen, walking down the hall and guessing where his room is. "Clothes off," he calls from the kitchen as you find his room.

You wish you could admire his room, but all you want to do is remove your clothes and lie readily for him to ravage you. You slip your heels off, unbuttoning your dress and tossing it on the floor. You forgot your underwear is on the kitchen floor. Climbing onto his bed, you remain on your knees, waiting impatiently for him to come in. When you are about to touch yourself to keep your high going, Jimin walks in. You watch him as he climbs onto the bed and lies on his back.

He taps his lips with his finger. "Sit." You're eager as you crawl over to him and bring one leg on the other side of his head. You couldn't help but look down at him with uncertainty. "Don't be shy, baby. I'll fuck your brains out later." You feel chills run down your spine before scooting forward until his face was no longer seen. You could feel his warm breath before his tongue brushed between your lips. Your body could only jerk a bit from how sensitive you already are.

He explores every inch of your warmth, sucking on your clit and flicking it with his tongue. You're moaning, pressing your forehead against the wall as you enjoy the feeling of his mouth. Your boyfriend never let you sit on your face, nor did he hold you from trying to move away as he ate you out. Jimin is doing everything right as he explores you and finds your special spot and works there for a while before you feel his hands on your waist and actually moves you forward and back. You follow his instructions moving front and back, front and back until you are moving on your own, hand pulling his hair as you're practically moving at the fastest pace you could. You're louder, head up and movement no longer at a certain pace. You see stars as you ride in and out of your orgasm.

He holds you there, taking in all that he could before letting you climb off. He grabs the towel from his bedside to wipe his face from all that didn't make it in his mouth. You couldn't help but look down to see that he was hard once again. You're nervous as to what's to come. He holds his hand out to you, nodding for you to take it. As you do he pulls you closer to him. Scooting closer to him, Jimin cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours.

The kiss isn't needy or rough. Jimin is kissing you softly and sensually. His tongue brushes along your lower lip, asking for entrance. When you open your mouth, he explores, his tongue dancing with yours as his hands roam your body. One hand plays with your breasts while the other goes back to your lower region. You moan into his mouth, body sensitive and not ready for him, but you still want it. Your hand went to his member and began to stroke him, hoping he felt the same pleasure he was giving you.

He breaks the kiss. "You're pretty wet," he states, stroking your bud one last time. "I'm not wet enough." Catching on to what he means, you push yourself back just enough to lean down and take him in your mouth once again. You didn't lick him or tease him; you went straight for sucking him to the point where he was breathing heavy. He places his hand under your chin and taps your cheek as he says, "It's too early for me to come again." You sit up. "I want to actually fuck you first. Lie down." You lie on your back and watch him move between your legs and align his shaft. "I'm not going to be soft, love. I want to hear you." He pushes himself in and you gasp. He's big and is filling you in all the right places.

Once he's fully in he slowly brings himself out, and once he's almost at the tip, Jimin slams into you. From there he doesn't stop his pace. He grips your hips and thrusts into you with so much force. "Oh my—" you choke on a moan that escapes your lips. You grab onto the frame of the bed to try and keep you still, but that only forces the frame to bang against the wall.

"Come on. I want the neighbors to hear you scream," he grunts, thrusting even harder to earn a louder moan from you. "He's a dick who always steals random shit from me." Another moan. "I know you can be louder than that." Jimin pulls out, turning you on your stomach. He pushes himself back in and continues his rugged thrusts. He grabs your arms and pulls you up to him. He keeps one grip on your arm while the other goes to your neck, pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder. He whispers harshly in your ear, "The noises that are leaving your mouth are incredible."

You can feel that high, and it's coming quick. "I'm almost there," you choke, almost screaming in ecstasy when his hand holding your arm is now forming circular motions on our clit. "Please don't stop. Please."

He lets you go. You fall onto the mattress, his hand on your lower back keeping you pinned down while the other is gripping your waist again. "Come for me, baby. Scream. I want to hear you scream out your orgasm." The only thing you could hear was the sound of the sound of the headboard hitting the wall, the sound of your moans, and the faint skin slapping against one another. Then everything was silenced out by your screams from the orgasm you were having. "Fuck, you're tight," he rasps, thrusting no longer in a pace but all over the place as you feel his warm seed fill you. He continues his thrusts until he stops and slowly pulls out to collapse next to you. The two of you are breathing heavily as you turn on your back, staring up at his white ceiling.

"That was amazing," you tell him, chest heaving.

"Hell yeah it was. We should do that more often." From the corner of your eye, you see him shift a bit. He chuckles, earning your attention. He holds his phone out towards you. "Is this what you would have told your ex if we did this in the beginning?" You read the text you sent him.

[6:03 pm] Love: Sorry

You shrug. "I wasn't expecting you to start so early."

"You wore my favorite dress, and I saw you lower the v-line to show your cleavage. I couldn't help myself."

You raise an eyebrow. "You were looking through the peephole?"

"I was ready to fuck you when you asked to role play one of our encounters in the beginning. I wasn't expecting to see the baked cookies again," he laughs.

"Well after we started dating, you told me you loved the cookies and the dress was hot on me, so I had to do it for you," you answer.

"Well, hopefully we can still do it once we move into the new apartment," he sighs, running his hand through his hair. He glances at you. "Same time tomorrow?"

You chuckle, "Sure."

"Maybe we can do it in your apartment." You laugh even louder. "I'll bring the cookies."