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[saganlife]

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[turonzamin]

Ifak Trauma Kit, 74 Piece Upgrade Tactical First Aid Supplies, Molle Ifak Pouch Rip Away Refill Supplies for Survival Camping Hiking Travel (Black)

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[saganlifellc]

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[minisugakoobies]

In Good Hands | JHS

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plots, a tiny bit of hurt/comfort, Ranch!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: sex work, swearing, drinking, kissing, grinding, marking/love bites, humping, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, dirty talk, protected sex, riding, lots of orgasm talk, allusions to unsupportive/asshole exes/partners, Hoseok's a fucking pro (in every way)

Word Count: 8.5K

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Once again, another partner has left you feeling unsatisfied. Maybe it’s time to call in an expert. Don’t worry, Hoseok knows exactly what you need.

A/N: Well, this started out as a PWP and then a little bit of plot crept in there anyway. 🤷‍♀️ Whatcha gonna do? Thank you to @reliablemitten for taking a look at this one for me. 💜 And to the rest of the writers in the Bangtan Ranch collab, for inspiring me with your kindness and talent! 🤠

Please don't be a silent reader! 🥺 I'd love to hear what you think! My inbox is always open 💕

Bangtan Ranch Masterlist

It’s over your second glass of champagne that you tell him. 

Hoseok’s eyebrows shoot up almost comically as he chokes on his drink, wincing when the bubbles tickle his nose. Not exactly the reaction you’d been hoping for, but at least he’s not laughing at you. And to be fair to him, the two of you were in the middle of a conversation about the amazing dinner you had just shared. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting for you to blurt out, “No one’s ever made me come from sex!” when he’d asked, “Do you like to cook?”

This isn’t how you planned on telling him. It’s because you’re nervous. You’ve been nervous ever since you arrived here this morning. 

All of your friends had been rather surprised when you’d announced you’d planned yourself a little weekend getaway at Bangtan Ranch. You weren’t really an ‘outdoors’ type of person, as more than one friend felt compelled to point out. And it’s true - you much prefer the comforts of home to roughing it in the wilderness. But you shut down their incredulous questioning with one single word - glamping.

So as far as your friends are concerned, you’re here for a weekend of pampering, staying in a modern little yurt instead of a tent or cabin, with running water and electricity and a king sized bed fully furnished with plush faux fur blankets. The tiny space includes other luxurious amenities, such as a fully stocked bar and a hot tub on the deck around the back. It’s a true oasis, a place where you can unwind away from the stress of everyday life.

A self-care weekend. That is what your friends believe you’re on, because that is what you’ve convinced them. But the truth is far more complicated. And embarrassing. Because you’ve chosen to stay at Bangtan Ranch for one specific reason. Which you’ve just shared with Hoseok, accidentally, tongue loosened by the alcohol coursing through your veins, letting your anxiousness override your filter.

The day has been fairly relaxing so far. After checking in, you went on a little tour of the grounds, taking in the sights you recognized from online, like the corral where the horses roam, and the lake where fly fishermen launch their lures into the shimmering crystal waters. 

In the late afternoon, you’d scheduled yourself a massage, thinking it might help you loosen up a little. Your masseuse brought their portable table out to the yurt and did their best to put you at ease, but somehow you retained the tension you’d brought to the ranch with you, muscles stubbornly remaining tightly drawn, like you were shielding yourself, trying to keep your secret as long as you could. 

After the masseuse packed up and left, you took a shower, then dressed for your date. There was a knock at the door not long after that as Hoseok arrived, followed quickly by your dinner. The kitchen staff at the main house provided a sumptuous catered meal of steak and roasted veggies, with fresh strawberries and cream for dessert. And lots of champagne. After such a feast, you should feel content, but you’re still keyed up.

Hence the blurt.

“No one? Not once?” Hoseok has recovered from the drink flooding his lungs. He places his glass carefully on the table between you before running a hand through his chestnut hair. He’s even more handsome in person than his profile on Bangtan’s website suggests. And that’s saying a lot, because you’d literally gasped upon seeing his photo when you’d scrolled through the staff section of the site. 

You shake your head, gaze focusing on the half-empty flute in front of you. “Not once.” Unable to look him in the eye, like you’re divulging a shameful secret. You’re an adult who has had more than a handful of sexual partners in your lifetime, and not a single one of them ever gotten you off during sex. Not. A. One. After the first few left you feeling unsatisfied, you figured it was a run of bad luck. Just some lousy lays. But it kept happening. Over and over. In both relationships and one-night stands.

You learned pretty quickly not to bother bringing it up. That conversation never went well. Instead, you perfected the fake O - you knew exactly how to move, how to moan and yell, make it seem like you were awash in ecstasy. Eventually, though, you got tired of acting. So you stopped altogether. 

It’s been months since your last date. Occasionally, in your loneliest hours, you’ve thought about putting one of those apps back on your phone and swiping through your options, but any time you go down that train of thought, you inevitably arrive at the same question. So before you put yourself out there, you need to know first. Which is why you’ve hired an expert to help you out. 

An expert who is silently observing you now, waiting for you to go on. 

“I feel like I should clarify a few things. Um. I’ve had a lot of partners. Not a crazy amount, but more than a few. And none of them could get me off.” You glance up and find his warm eyes locked on your face. You can feel your neck starting to warm, embarrassment settling itself into your bones. Grabbing your flute, you down the rest of your drink before continuing. “And it’s not that I’ve never had an orgasm. I’ve had plenty, just always by my own hand. So I’m here because… I need to know. If - if it’s me.” 

“If it’s you?”

You nod. “Yeah. Like, if I am the problem.” 

His brows knit together as he stares at you. “You think you are the reason your partners have never brought you to orgasm? When you just said you’ve gotten yourself off plenty of times?” 

Another nod.

He sighs, plucking a strawberry from the bowl and swiping it through the cream. “You’re not the first person I’ve met who has told me something like this. Not by a long shot. Many people have come to me seeking the truth. And I helped them find it.” Bringing the strawberry to his lips, his tongue darts out and licks the cream off before he pops the berry into his mouth. 

You must have a strange expression on your face because he suddenly laughs, shaking his head. “Wow, that sounds pretty conceited, huh? Bragging that I’ve always brought all my partners to orgasm.” He pauses, dark brows furrowing again as he spins his glass in front of him. “Let me try again. I’ve been working at this ranch for a few years now, and I’ve met so many different people. All with their own wants. Their own desires. For me, it’s always been about discovering what the other person needs. That’s the key to making sure they enjoy the experience.” He shrugs. “Maybe that still sounds conceited, I don’t know. All I know is that anyone who has ever come to me with the same question you have has always left here knowing the answer.”

“And you think you can do that for me?” The alcohol has made you blunt.

Hoseok’s silent for a moment, scanning your face. Then he nods. “I know I can. If you’ll let me.” 

There’s a flash of something in his warm eyes that makes you swallow thickly before you reply. “Okay. So… how do we get started?”

“Leave that to me.” He pours the rest of the champagne into your flutes. “All you need to do is relax tonight. That’s your only goal. Does that sound all right?”

It sounds fantastic, but you’re not sure it’s going to happen, given how wound you still are. But you agree anyway, taking another sip. 

“Good. So. Back to my original question - do you like to cook?” 

Hoseok tries his best to engage you in normal conversation, asking you about your hobbies, what you do for a living, what other activities you’re hoping to get to on your vacation. It feels like you’re on a typical date, getting to know one another. But from the way your leg keeps bouncing, fingers drumming on your thigh, you’re sure he can tell it’s not working. 

“It should be starting to cool off outside,” he states as he stands to clear the table, putting the empty dishes back on the cart for the kitchen staff to collect. “How would you feel about moving this conversation outside, to the hot tub? We can take the rest of dessert with us, open another bottle of champagne - or I can make you a cocktail, if you’d prefer?” 

Moving to the hot tub might help. At this point, you’ll try anything. “Hot tub sounds fantastic right now. But, um, I think I’m okay on the alcohol.” You’re at the perfect amount of tipsy right now - there’s no desire to cross over into drunk. 

Hoseok goes outside to prepare the hot tub while you change into your bathing suit. When he returns, you grab a few bottles of water and the remaining strawberries and head around the yurt to the tub while he changes. The trees towering over the back of the yurt are tall enough to blot out the sun, so Hoseok has turned on the string lights hanging over the deck. By the time he joins you, you’re already in, reclining against the side, head tipped back to rest on the ledge, eyes closed.

The water is so warm and soothing. The jets aimed at your lower back feel like reassuring hands kneading your tension away. Maybe you should’ve skipped the massage earlier and just sat in the tub for a few hours, given how quickly your body is starting to unwind. 

“You look comfortable,” Hoseok informs you as he climbs in, water splashing over the edge of the tub. You pop one eye open a crack, noticing the darkened trail of hair on his toned stomach, heading down to the waistband of his shorts. He settles himself against the opposite edge, facing you.

“I am.” 

“Good.” He lets his head fall back. “I’m so glad you picked this yurt.” 

His statement catches you off guard and you open your eyes. “You are?”

“Yeah. It’s always so much nicer staying here than in one of the tents. I'm not really a tent person. Don’t care for sleeping on the ground.”

“Did you do a lot of camping before, um…”

“Before I started working here?” 

“I’m sorry, is it okay if I ask you questions?” Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about work. You shouldn’t just assume that he’s open to any topic.

“Of course.” His warm smile consoles you. “It’s such a cliche to say this, I know, but my life is an open book. You can ask me anything.” 

“Did you do a lot of camping growing up?” 

He laughs. It’s such a delightful sound. “Thankfully, no. My parents weren’t really into being outdoors. So I didn’t spend a lot of time outside as a kid, and definitely not in any tents.” 

Your hand glides through the water, playing with the currents. “We didn’t really go camping when I was a kid, either. I had an ex who liked to go, though, so I’ve slept in a tent a few times. And I’m with you - sleeping on the ground sucks. I don’t care how many futons or air mattresses you bring, it’s never enough.” 

“Right?? I don’t understand anyone who willingly does that. We’re humans! We evolved and invented mattresses! And nice beds to put them on! Why go back?” Shaking his head incredulously, he runs his hands through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. Damp tips drip water down the sharp planes of his jawline. “So other than the tent, did you like going camping?”

You shrug. “Most of it, I guess. I enjoyed going for hikes. And we always brought marshmallows to roast at night. I make a mean s’more.” 

Hoseok grins. “You know, the yurt comes stocked with marshmallows and roasting sticks, if you want to fire up the pit later. And I can get us some chocolate and graham crackers.” 

“Maybe.” Maybe if things don’t go as you hoped, you can cheer yourself up with some melted chocolate and marshmallows. “I guess these trips weren’t terrible, but they were never my first choice. Plus I almost died on one.” 

“What?” Hoseok’s a very animated person, you’ve noticed. When he reacts to something you say, he does so with his whole body. In this case, his jaw hangs loose as his wide eyes gape at you, and he launches himself off of his bench, crossing to sit next to you. “What do you mean, you almost died?!” He grabs your hand, bringing it up from beneath the surface and clutching it tightly. “Are you okay now?”

“Oh, no, Hoseok!” Despite feeling a brief flash of guilt for making him worry, you can’t stop the laughter that bursts from your lips. “I’m sorry, I’m just being overly dramatic. It wasn’t a near-death experience or anything like that.” You squeeze his hand quickly before pulling yours away to point at your other shoulder, twisting in your seat to show Hoseok. “We went hiking after a thunderstorm and I slipped on some rocks and cut my arm bad enough to warrant a trip to a nearby hospital and some stitches. But it put me off camping for a while.” 

He shakes his head, hand automatically reaching out to your shoulder. He stops an inch away. “May I?” 

You nod, and he strokes the scar on your bicep, long fingers drawing the line of the jagged cut like he’s studying the shape. The strokes turn to gentle caresses as he speaks. 

“I'm sorry that happened to you.” He turns so he’s facing you, his calf brushing up against yours. “You can barely see the scar, though.” 

“I know,” you reply, replacing his fingers with your own, rubbing at the mark on your arm. “But I can feel it.” 

He hums, propping his head on his hand, elbow bent on the ledge of the tub. “How did your ex take it when you told them you didn’t want to go camping any more?” 

“Oh, well, we broke up when we got back from that trip, so, uh, it wasn’t really an issue.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. We weren’t a good fit, anyway.” 

He hums again, and you wonder if you’re boring him. You hate talking about your exes, the few of them there are. But then he smiles. 

“We don’t have to talk about your past relationships if you don’t want to. Like I said, you should be relaxing tonight. There’s no need to talk about anything stressful or upsetting.” Something skims along your knee and you glance down, finding his hand brushing against you. “Just let me know if you want me to stop. Anything we’re talking about, anything I’m doing. Say the word and I’ll stop immediately. It’s all about making sure you’re comfortable.” 

Your lip tucks itself between your teeth as you nod. His hand skims higher, tracing up your thigh a little. The heat from the hot tub can’t stop the shiver that passes through you. 

“I don’t mind talking about this stuff. There’s just not much to say,” you declare with a wry grin. 

Hoseok laughs, shifting in his seat to reach the strawberries. But instead of eating one, he offers it to you, holding the berry an inch from your lips. You lean forward, teeth biting into the tip. Tart juice splashes onto your chin as you tear the berry in half, and you squeak in surprise.

“Oh, juicy!” 

Your neck flames as you wipe your mouth, cringing at your own awkward reaction. Hoseok merely grins, hand reaching out to swipe at a drop on your jaw. His thumb lingers on your chin a few seconds longer than necessary for such a tiny bead of liquid. 

“Cute,” he declares, and the tub could be filled with icy cold water and you’d still be burning up. But now it’s not due to embarrassment.

Hoseok still holds the rest of the berry. Carefully, you wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug, bringing his hand back to your lips. This time, your bite is slow, eyes locked on his as you close your lips around the fruit. Even though you’re the one eating, he’s the one swallowing loudly as you finish the berry, tongue slipping out to lick your lips lewdly. Your chest swells with pride, knowing that you’ve had an effect on him with your actions. 

“Still cute?” Somehow, you manage to smoothly purr the question despite how shaky you feel under Hoseok’s gaze. He’s peering at you like you’re one of the berries and he’s holding himself back from just eating you whole. 

Hoseok barks out a surprised laugh, and you join him with an equally shocked gasp as he clasps his hands around your waist, yanking you into his lap. Your legs fall open into a straddle as he holds you in place with one hand gripping each thigh. 

“Yes. Still cute.” There’s no waver in his words. He looks up at you with hooded eyes, tilting his neck until his nose bumps yours. “Cute and sweet. The perfect combination, like strawberries and cream.”

“Mmm, am I sweet?” you wonder out loud. It’s not something anyone’s ever really called you before.

“I’m sure you are, but I’d love to find out,” he whispers, and surges up to catch your mouth with his. He kisses away your giggles, and you tangle your fingers in his silky locks as his hands on your legs slide you closer to him. 

“What a fucking line,” you exhale as he trails kisses along your jaw, back towards your ear. His tongue flicks out to trace the curve, making you shudder.

“Well, I am a pro,” he replies, grin evident in his tone. 

You laugh, head tipping back, and he immediately dives towards your neck, to suck at the sensitive skin there. Groaning, you curl your fingers into his hair more, keeping his head in place, urging him to mark you up. He understands your silent command and leaves a trail of bites down to your collarbones. 

Hoseok’s hot mouth is driving you crazy, and you rock forward, trying to find some friction, dragging your core against his groin. He’s hard, rutting his heavy cock against you, and you moan in tandem. A jolt of desire shoots through you, but there’s something else gnawing at your gut, something that makes your stomach flip. A voice whispers that tonight is going to end like so many others, the words striking you like a bolt of electricity. 

Lost in your anxiety, you go still in Hoseok’s arms, and he lifts his head before he straightens up. Dark eyes examine your face for a moment. “Too fast?” 

You start to shake your head no, stop, then nod, glancing down at his chest. His hands relax their hold on your thighs, pushing you back onto his legs a little. 

“Let’s slow it down a little. We’ve got all night to do whatever we want - we don’t have to rush into anything.” He ducks his head until he meets your eye line. “And we don’t have to do anything you don’t want.” 

“You keep saying that.” 

“Because it’s true. There’s no pressure from me for you to do anything at all. I’m perfectly happy to sit here and talk to you all night, if you’d like. Or I can shut up and we can just enjoy the view.” He nods towards the sky, and you look up to see a bright moon rising above the trees, flanked by several twinkling stars. “It’s all about you tonight. Whatever you want.” 

You nod, and then bite your lip. “Can I be honest, then?” 

“Of course! Anything you tell me will be just between us.” 

“The hot tub bench is kind of hurting my knees.” 

He moves so swiftly, diving forward off the bench, grabbing you by the waist again to guide you into a sideways sitting position, your ass pressing into his thighs, that you let out a shocked laugh. 

“That’s better, thanks.” You drape your arms over his shoulders again as he locks his hands behind your back. 

The heat of the moment has dissipated, and the two of you fall back into easy conversation. Hoseok keeps his hands on your back, a light, comforting touch as you try to relax again. He doesn’t try to kiss you or do anything else that you would consider making a move. He seems content just to talk to you, like he said, and you let the warm bubbling waters of the hot tub carry your tension away again. 

It’s tempting to just sit there all night in his arms, but eventually, you have to get out of the hot tub. Hoseok points to the steps leading down from the deck to the back of the yurt. “There’s a shower back here, if you want to rinse off.” 

Back inside the yurt, you find that Hoseok has laid out the two fluffy white bathrobes that had been hanging on the bathroom door. “Here,” he says, handing you one. “I thought this would be comfortable for you to wear after soaking for so long. You have to feel this - it’s so soft.” He rubs a corner of the robe on his face, eyes closing for a second in bliss, before he grins at you. You can’t help but grin back. 

Taking the robe into the bathroom, you peel off your wet swimsuit and hang it over the tub. Hoseok wasn’t kidding about the robe - it feels like you’re being gently hugged by the softest cloud. Before you step out of the small space, you glance at the mirror above the sink. This would be the time when you’d give yourself a pep talk, if you were in a movie. But pep talks aren’t really your thing, and there are no cameras here, just you and the calm face peering back at you. You look relaxed, at least. Maybe no pep talks are needed after all. 

Hoseok is sitting on the bed when you reemerge. He’s already wearing his bathrobe, perched on the edge, hands resting on his lap. He pats the space next to him, but you hesitate, standing in front of him. 

Here it is. The moment for which you planned this entire trip. 

“So…” you say, fingers playing with your belt. “Now what?” 

He laughs. “That’s up to you. What do you want to do?” 

Several scenarios run through your head, including the thought of sending him away for the night and just spending the rest of your mini-vacation alone, lying in bed, eating strawberries and watching movies. It’s not a bad backup plan, honestly. But you’re here for an answer, and that’s not the way you’re gonna get it.  

You climb onto the bed, settling yourself so your back is resting against the headboard. Once you’re comfortable, you crook your finger, inviting Hoseok to join you. He mirrors your pose, but doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to speak. 

Instead, you lean over and press your lips to his. He reacts immediately, one hand cradling the back of your head as the other caresses your cheek. Your own curl into his robe, gripping the plush fabric as you murmur, “Can we just do this for a while? I like kissing you.” 

Hoseok nods, nose bumping yours. “Absolutely.” 

Time seems to slow to a crawl as you and Hoseok make out, reclining against the bed with your arms wrapped around each other. He’s a fantastic kisser, taking your breath away with long, deep kisses that make your thighs twitch. He nips at your bottom lip, and when you gasp, slips his tongue into your mouth to tangle with your own. There’s a need building in you again, and before long, you’re dragging him down with you, sliding along the faux fur blankets to lie on your back. He follows without delay, covering your body with his own. 

Heaven. He feels like heaven, pressed up against you. You’ve missed this feeling so much, the weight of someone else on you, hands roaming your sides, cupping your face, lips trailing down your throat, over your collarbones. It’s been far too long.

Hoseok pauses at the point where the v of your robe lies on your chest and glances up at you with darkened eyes and kiss-swollen lips. His hair is messy due to your inability to keep your fingers out of it. He might feel like heaven, but right now he looks like an absolutely sinful dream. 

“Is it okay if I untie this?” he asks, lithe fingers tugging lightly on your loosely-tied belt. 

You nod, then find your voice. “Yes. Please.” 

Instead of making swift work of the knot, Hoseok pulls on the ends slowly, and your breath hitches in anticipation. Once the material slips free, he brings his hands up, each clutching a side of your robe to peel it back, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the room. Almost immediately, your skin pebbles, a rush of goosebumps rippling down your skin. Hoseok tuts. 

“Sorry, love,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on your hardening nipples. “Let me warm you back up.” 

And then he lowers his mouth to your breast, forming a warm, wet seal. 

“Oh!” you keen, head lolling back as Hoseok’s hands cover your chest, large palms doing their best to massage away your chills. His tongue dances around your nipple, tracing circles that grow larger and larger as he laves at your breast. Once it’s completely coated, he licks his way to the other breast, repeating his actions. 

He spends several minutes this way, going back and forth. The robe is still gathered shut below your navel, but as you writhe beneath his hot mouth, it shifts, granting him more skin to paint with his tongue. He trails down your stomach, kissing your belly button and laughing at your stuttered breath when the sensitive skin there spasms from the tickling brush of his lips. 

Still, even with your robe falling open, he doesn’t make any move towards where you want him most, until you finally moan, “Hoseok. Keep going, please.” 

He glances up at you for a second, and must see the need written on your face, because he smirks. “I’m sorry, love, I was trying to take my time. Am I moving too slowly for you?” 

“A - a little,” you admit, voice shaking as he kisses across your belly, from hip to hip. His pink lips are as plush as the bedding that surrounds you. “But if you’re, um, if you’re enjoying yourself, then you don’t have to… stop.” 

His laugh tickles your stomach, and you tip your head up to look at him where he lies, halfway down the bed, chin resting on your torso. “Oh, I’m definitely enjoying myself. But the question is whether you are enjoying it? Because I don’t wanna sound like a broken record or anything, but this is all about you tonight.” He beams, a bright smile sending a rush of warmth to your cheeks. “So if you want me to move a little faster…” his hand disappears beneath the folds of fabric covering your thighs, “then that is what I shall do.” 

Dropping your head back onto your pillow, you sigh as you feel his fingers grip the soft skin at the apex of your legs, urging them apart. The robe you wear is completely open now, hiding nothing but your arms, still tucked into the sleeves. 

“Can I ask you something? And feel free to say yes but then not answer.” 

You lift your head again. “You can ask me anything.” Hoseok’s earned your trust tonight with his kind words and actions. And besides, he’s right, you don’t have to answer anything that you don’t want to. You’re the one in charge here.

“When you’ve been with someone in the past, have they ever moved this slowly?” As he speaks, he lowers his mouth to your thigh, leaving a tender kiss behind. “Or is it usually just get you naked and then get going? Straight to the sex?” 

“Usually the latter.” None of your exes were much for foreplay. A few minutes of kissing, maybe, a little fingering to open you up, and then right to it. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you’d get a little oral with the fingering, but it never lasted very long. Honestly, sometimes it felt so mechanical, like you were a damn car they were trying to start. Put the key in the ignition, step on the gas, turn the key. Kiss, finger, fuck.  

When you explain all of this to Hoseok, he shakes his head, nose brushing your other thigh. “That’s what I thought you’d say,” he sighs, sounding disappointed. “Look, I don’t mean to disparage someone I’ve never met, but… well, frankly, all those people who had you in their bed and didn’t take the time to savor all this beauty laid out in front of them were complete idiots. Every last one of them.” 

“Ah, well, I don’t know if I’m a ‘beauty’ -”

“No no.” Hoseok cuts you off. “I wasn’t asking for opinions. I was stating a fact.” The protest forming on your lips dies away as he sucks a love bite into your skin, at the junction where your thigh meets your crotch. “You’re breathtaking like this. Not just the way you look lying here, but the way you react to my touch, the sounds you make.” He groans, dropping his forehead onto your leg. “God, you make the most gorgeous sounds. You’re telling me no one ever wanted to take their time with you, make you moan like this again and again?” 

And as he finishes his thought, he finally slides a finger into you, right where you have been dying for him to reach. You moan loudly, back arching slightly, trying to take him in further. 

He hisses as he explores the tight wet heat of your cunt. “That’s it, that’s what I was talking about. That beautiful little cry of yours. Wanna fill the room with it, love.” He adds a second finger, and then his mouth follows, gliding along your slit before he seeks your clit. When he gently latches onto the sensitive nub, you whimper again, fingers flexing in the faux fur. 

For several wonderfully long minutes, the only sounds coming from his mouth are the lewd sucking noises he makes as he eats you out. Meanwhile, there’s an entire symphony falling from your own lips, whines and moans and the occasional “Hoseok” or “oh my God” all floating into the ether. Thankfully, there are no shared walls for this yurt, so you can be as loud as you want, because the man between your legs is devouring you so enthusiastically that there’s no way you could stifle yourself right now. And he’s clearly delighting in the clamor, based on how he keeps groaning into your cunt and rutting his hips into the bed. Which only spurs you on more. To think that you could turn him on like this… it’s a total ego boost. 

Hoseok’s ministrations have you squirming, hips bucking as you feel that familiar band tightening inside you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you chase your high, focusing on what he’s doing and trying to block everything else out. Including the nagging voice in your head that pipes up again, fretting that you’re going to lose it, that it’s not going to happen, that this whole weekend was a waste of time…

“You okay, love?” Hoseok’s gentle voice pulls you out of your head, and you open your eyes to find him watching you with a concerned look. 

“‘M fine,” you say, flashing him a smile, but it’s weak at best. His fingers withdraw and you whine a dissent, but he’s already crawling up the bed to lay beside you, grasping your chin as he kisses you. You lose yourself in the sweet lushness of his lips for a minute before he pulls away. 

“It seemed like you were getting close there,” he informs you. 

“You could tell that?” 

He grins, that cocky lopsided smirk that you’ve only seen a few times tonight but have come to absolutely adore. “If you know what signs to look for. But something happened. You went somewhere. In here.” His fingers brush over your temples. “Where’d you go?” 

With a heavy sigh, you roll onto your side to face him. “I just… I couldn’t drown out the voice. You know. The one that always says exactly what you’re afraid of? That voice. It started talking and I couldn’t shut it out.” 

He rakes his hand through his hair, creating a fluffy brown halo around his head as he huffs out a sigh. “I almost hate to ask but… this voice you hear. Is it telling you what someone else told you?”

Eyes lowered, you give the tiniest of nods. Not just someone. Multiple people, their words blending together, but it’s all the same message: there’s something wrong with you. 

He lays a hand on your arm. You watch his long fingers as they gently stroke your skin. He speaks your name just as delicately. “I know we just met, but I can promise you that those people were lying to you. They blamed you out of their own guilt, rather than admit to themselves and to you that they weren’t able to satisfy you.” 

That’s what you want to believe, more than anything. It’s a bit hard to put it into practice.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, giving him a brief smile. “I - I know. It’s just… their words are stuck in there.”

“Hmmm.” Hoseok’s gaze flits between your eyes as he contemplates your answer. “Tell me something, love. Before that voice chimed in, were you enjoying the moment?” 

His fingers gently brush your cheek as you nod at him. 

“And how do you feel right now? Is the moment over?” 

That moment is definitely over, but you’re still happy to have Hoseok here with you, and you don’t want to stop. It’s been ages since you’ve been with anyone, and you’ve missed the touch of another so much. 

“I’d like to keep going, actually,” you admit, head lowered shyly, and his fingers slip under your chin to tilt your face up until you lock eyes with him. 

“Say that again, love, a little louder,” he implores you.

“I want to keep going,” you declare, with confidence. And bring your hands up to his face to pull him in for a kiss. Hoseok hums into your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut, and you close yours as well, letting yourself fall back into the sensation of his lips on yours. When the need to breathe becomes overwhelming, you pull away, gasping. “But what about you?”

He frowns. “What about me?” 

“You wanna keep going?”

His laugh is a low purr. “If you’re asking because you’re afraid you killed the mood or something….” He gestures to his robe, where a tent has sprung up over his groin. “It’s not ruined for me.” 

He shuffles closer, pressing you up against his chest as he kisses you again. What lies beneath that tent presses into your thigh, and you marvel at the fact that he still wants you. It’s another ego boost, one you sorely need at this moment, and it’s enough to bolster you to take charge again and pull him on top of you as you roll onto your back.

He moves eagerly, happily rutting into your open thighs, the soft fabric of the robe rubbing against your bare cunt. 

“Hoseok,” you mumble, fingers plucking at the collar of his robe, “take this off. I need to feel you.”

Without hesitation, he tosses the robe onto the floor. As he hovers over you, skin shimmering like amber under the warm lighting of the bedroom, you trace your hands down his chest and stomach, running your fingertips along the dark treasure trail that leads from his belly button to his groin. He shudders, a tiny groan letting you know he’s enjoying the attention. 

He notices the way your eyes keep flicking to his cock. “Do you wanna touch it, love?” 

“Can I?” Your fingers twitch, wanting to wrap themselves around his impressive girth. He’s not the biggest you’ve ever seen, but he’s thick enough that you know you’re in for a stretch. 

“Of course you can. Touch as much as you’d like, I’m at your command tonight.” 

“Well, yeah, I know that but…” You run your hands up his muscular thighs, delighting in the way they jerk under your fingertips. Shifting closer, you cup his cheek and bring his mouth down towards you, barely an inch from your own. “Do you want me to touch you?” 

“Fuck. Yes, please, touch me,” comes Hoseok’s hurried response, as he closes the distance between you with a heated kiss. Just as your lips meet, you curl your hand around the base of his cock, lightly stroking upwards. He’s warm, velvety skin pulsing in your grip as you rub your thumb over the tip. He moans into your mouth, and you swallow it down eagerly. 

As you continue to roll your hand up and down, Hoseok drops his head to your neck, pressing sloppy kisses there. “Feels so good, love,” he whispers, and he drags his fingers down your lower stomach. You instinctively arch into his hand as he cups your heat, palm rubbing small circles against your clit. “Don’t stop.” 

“Ahh, Hoseok,” you sigh as he slips a finger between your sodden folds. He has such lovely fingers, so long and flexible, stretching and stroking inside you. 

“That’s it, love, keep talking. Tell me what you like.”

What you like? He should know that. When you booked his services, you’d filled out a little questionnaire with your likes and dislikes. Your wants and your turn-offs. 

“But I already ahhh fuck - already told you, oh god,” you groan, statement crumbling into babbled exclamations as Hoseok fondles your clit, giving the little pearl a good shining. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he laughs, “and I did read your list, but I want you to tell me, right now, what you want. I wanna hear it from your sweet mouth instead.” He gently pries your fingers from his length, kissing away your pout. “Sorry, but you were starting to feel a little too good.” 

“But I want to make you cum,” you protest, and he closes his eyes for a second before fixing you with a dark stare. 

“Oh, you will, love, don’t you worry. But I’ll be damned if I’m the first to go tonight.” 

This time, when he kisses you, it’s slow and heavy, his tongue languidly teasing yours, teeth pulling your bottom lip into his mouth so he can suck on it. His fingers slide back inside you with no resistance, your arousal soaking them fully as he scissors you open. You feel his cock pressing into your hip and try to lift your lower half to give him some friction, but he’s holding you down too much for it to work. 

Again his fingers find that soft spot inside you, and your head snaps up. “Fuck, Hoseok!” 

“Ah, you like that? Right there?” He strokes it again, and you nod furiously. 

“Yes, god, I love your fingers!” You’d be embarrassed at your zealous response if you weren’t in the throes of bliss right now, toes curling as Hoseok’s palm caresses your clit again.

“I’m glad to hear that, love, because they can’t get enough of this beautiful pussy of yours,” he murmurs, head bent over your chest, breath ghosting over your breasts. “So warm, so tight. Just begging for them, sucking them in again and again.” His fingers plunge faster, stroke deeper. “Could do this all night if you wanted.”

The stirring in your gut tightens, warmth spreading across your torso, down your thighs. “Please. I need more,” you moan, bucking your hips to try to meet his thrusts. 

Hoseok grunts, propping himself up on his other elbow as he buries his hand inside you. The fierce look of determination on his face creases his brow as sweat beads on his forehead. It’s too much, watching this sex god fingerfuck you wantonly like this, so you close your eyes. 

Almost immediately, the voice speaks again.

And then you feel a hand on your cheek and you open your eyes to find Hoseok looking at you with a softer expression. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t go away again. Stay with me,” he says, a command and a plea mixed in one. 

You nod, mesmerized by the warmth glowing in his eyes. His fingers find a new rhythm as he holds your gaze. “Are you still liking the way I’m touching you, or do you want something else now? Hmmm? Think you’re ready for my cock now?”

“Oh god,” you groan, “mmm, I think - I think I’m ready.”

Hoseok’s lips curl, dark eyes still studying your face as his thumb applies just the right amount of pressure to your clit to make you gasp. He lowers his mouth to your ear, nibbling on the lobe before he whispers, “Say it like you mean it, love. Tell me exactly what you want. Or do you want to hear what I want to do to you first? How I want to bend you over and fuck you so hard, the only voice you’ll hear is your own, screaming out my name?”

“I want that too, fuck, Hoseok, please fuck me!” The words explode out of you as if they were just waiting on the tip of your tongue the whole time. Which, maybe they have been. You came here intending to be fucked, and that desire has only grown through the evening. 

With a pleased laugh, Hoseok hops off the bed to rummage through his robe until he pulls a condom from one of the pockets. Then he climbs back on the bed, kneeling in front of you, one hand lightly gripping his cock as he looks at you. 

“Lay back and let me make you feel good.” He pauses at the expression on your face. “Unless you have something else in mind?” 

With a grin, you reach out and pluck the condom from Hoseok’s hand. He huffs a breathy laugh as you place a palm on his chest, pushing him back towards the headboard again. Leaning back, he grants you another smirk as he stretches his legs in front of him, erect cock bouncing against his firm stomach.

“Is this where you want me?” he rasps in a low rumble. Biting your lip, you nod, holding yourself back from leaping on him only long enough for you to commit his image to memory. Hoping you never forget the look in his eye as he waits for you to make your move. 

Still clutching the condom packet, you shuffle forward on your knees until you’re between his legs. Before you do anything else, you take his cock in your hands, giving him a few short strokes just to hear him moan again. He’s starting to pant when you finally release him, hands fumbling with the packet for a minute before you manage to rip it open. Your fingers move more nimbly as you sheath him. 

His hands wrap around the backs of your thighs, guiding you to straddle him. As you hover over his lap, hands on his shoulders, you take a moment to breathe. He smiles softly up at you, and with your next inhale, you sink down.

You were right. Hoseok’s thickness stretches you deliciously, hard length parting your tight walls, rubbing over every dripping inch inside. His tongue flicks out to lick his lips as you settle yourself on his thighs, reveling in the feeling of being so fucking full. 

It’s been way too long. 

“Doing okay, love?” he asks after a moment. 

“Fuck yes,” you reply, grinning at his giggle. His thumbs rub encouraging circles into your hips, but he doesn’t do anything else, clearly waiting for you to set the pace. 

“If you just want to sit on my cock for the rest of the night, I’m fine with that. You feel like heaven. Don’t even have to move. We can just stay like this.” 

A lock of his dark hair falls into his face as he beams up at you, and you push it behind his ear, shaking your head.

“Not that I wouldn’t love to cockwarm you all night, but…” Pushing yourself up, you slowly start to ride him. “Isn’t this more fun?” 

His response is a low groan and a squeeze of your ass. Laughing, you roll your hips, head kicking back as his cock brushes against your g-spot. Hoseok leans forward, the angle helping repeat the action, and you lace your hands behind his neck as you pick up the pace. 

“Shit, just like that,” he hisses, encouraging you to ride him faster. “Fucking taking me so good, love. How’s that feel?” 

“Feels, ahhh, feels so amazing, ‘seok.” 

But as good as he feels, it dawns on you that your energy is flagging. There’s no way you can keep this up for very long. 

When your speed starts to falter, and you fall silent again, Hoseok snaps into action. His hands grip your sides as he kisses you, nudging your nose with his own. “Focus on me,” he instructs you gently. Right before he begins to thrust into you like a fucking jackhammer. 

“Hoseok!” you yelp, eyes rolling back into your head. “Oh holy fuck!” 

“That’s it,” he grunts through gritted teeth, thighs smacking off your ass. “Let me take over. You don’t need to do anything now but sit here and enjoy this, okay? I’ve got you.” 

His cock is pumping into you so swiftly that you’re panting too hard to form a coherent sentence, so you don’t even try, nodding at his promise. When his arms wrap around your waist, you go pliant, letting him tip you backwards so he can pound into you at that perfect angle again, hitting your g-spot over and over. It’s so intense that you give up on words completely, just letting your moans communicate your thoughts. Which are currently along the lines of oh fuck oh my god so good so good!

You clutch at him, fingers leaving indentations in his skin as you urge him close enough to capture his mouth with yours. There’s a wild desperation in your kiss, which he must read as he matches you frenzied tongue for tongue, frantic bite for bite.

“I’ve got you, love,” he repeats, leaning forward again until your back hits the mattress. He slips out of you only momentarily to adjust your position, bringing both of your legs up to rest on his strong shoulders. “Don’t take your eyes off me for a second, okay? I’m still here, with you. You feel me?” He plunges back into your waiting warmth. 

You feel him in every inch of you, from your swollen lips to your shaking thighs. He takes your whimper for the answer it is. 

“That’s what I thought.” How the fuck is he able to pound into you like this and still speak? His prowess has your mind reeling. “I need you to know just how fucking good you feel, love. I hope you don’t mind if I fuck you all night, because I don’t want this to end. Any of it. Wanna taste you again, maybe have you sit on my face for a while?”

“Hoseok…” That tension is rising again. 

He shifts slightly, hands flexing in your thighs as he holds them to his chest while he drives into you. “Then I’d love to take you out back and make you bounce on my cock in the hot tub. Have you ever had hot tub sex? The jets on your clit will have you seeing stars. Or so I’ve been told.” He smirks. “Then I gotta hit it from behind, at least once. I need to see this ass dance up close.” His right hand slaps your cheek lightly. 

His filthy mouth is pushing you closer and closer to what you’ve been trying to find all night. It’s here, finally, your answer. Your high. This time, you don’t close your eyes, but keep them focused on the man confessing all the things he wants to do with you.

Hoseok’s control seems to be slipping as he swears loudly. “Goddamn, I want to do this all night, love. Just let me make you feel so good. I know you want it, love, tell me you want it.” 

“Ho-hoseok,” you stutter, your legs falling from his shoulders as you tangle your fingers into his hair, “I want it, I want it, kiss me, kiss m-”

He cuts you off with a passionate kiss, hot skin sliding against yours as he lies on top of you, fucking into you deeply. It’s exactly what you need, exactly what you want, and with a loud whine, you finally come. 

It’s not the same as any of the orgasms you’ve given yourself. It’s more intense, wave after wave of pleasure radiating from your core, spreading throughout your body. Goosebumps ripple down your thighs as you clench around Hoseok, and he groans, still thrusting away until his own euphoria arrives and he joins you in your wailing. 

It’s not until he collapses on top of you that your peak finally subsides. As thoughts start to filter back into your head, you hear that voice again. 

This time, you just laugh, and tell it to fuck off forever.

“What’s so funny?” Hoseok mumbles from between your breasts.

“Nothing,” you reply, running your hand through his sweaty hair to push it off his forehead. “I’m just happy.” 

He just grins, and you can’t stop yourself from kissing away his smile. After a moment, the kiss becomes a series of small pecks, before he rolls onto his side, fixing you with another questioning look. “So how do you feel, now that you have your answer?” 

“I feel fucking fantastic,” you declare, earning more of his musical giggles. “Thank you, Hoseok.” 

He shrugs. “I just helped you get there, you figured it out for yourself.” 

“So… do you have to go now? Or did you mean all of those things you said earlier?” You drum your fingers on his chest. “I believe there was something about the hot tub jets? That sounded pretty interesting.” 

That sexy smirk makes a reappearance. “I’m yours all night, love. What do you want to do now?” 

You tell him. All night long. 

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

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[desicosplay]

So, if you're like my family, society and work keep sticking us in scenarios where we could contract COVID-19. And unfortunately, we can't always avoid this. Take my partner, for example; they had to fly to a work conference, stay for a week, and then fly back. However, we are now 14 days out from the day they returned. We tested negative 7 days ago (7 days from the return date) and have remained asymptomatic!

So, what precautions did my partner take? Keep in mind, these are all Swiss Cheese layers - they have holes, but with enough of em, you can stay relatively safe!

Double masked. They wear a vertical fold KN95 + surgical masks. In the plane, they did not unmask. In public places, they only unmasked if outside (best) or absolutely necessary (like to eat). If they were indoors and unmasked, they:

Turned on their portable air filter to the highest/second highest level (they also had it on outdoors if there was a crowd). The ones we have are Pure Enrichment brand. In airports, they would take their masks down long enough to take bites of food and sip water, then replace their masks to chew (you kind of need to eat and drink water while travelling all day). They would also make sure they were 6 feet from the nearest person before doing this. When at the conference, they would start it up on the table, wait a few minutes, take their masks off, eat calmly, and then put their masks back on.

They tried to be outside as much as possible. Outdoor air is the BEST at ventilation and deactivating viral particles.

Carried hand sanitizer. While surface transmission is NOT the main way of spread, it's always best to have clean hands (preferably washed but sanitizer will do) before eating or touching your face, especially your eyes, nose, and mouth.

Wiped down frequently touched surfaces in their hotel room. Tables, handles, lights, bathroom, outlets. Again, if a room has been empty for a while, surface transmission is low. But they were traveling in the beginning of a surge, so better safe than sorry.

Here's the deal though. You can do all the right things and STILL get sick. And not just with COVID-19, it could be anything! It is not a moral failing to get sick. You are not a bad person if you get sick. You try your best with what you have. And if you do get sick, you isolate, take care of yourself and take care of your fellow humans as best as you can.

Tldr; these are the precautions my partner took while on a work trip to avoid getting sick (and succeded). It is a RESOURCE, not medical advice.

[sipologie]

Moka Pot Coffee Vs. French Press Coffee: Which One is Better for You?

If you're a coffee enthusiast, you know that the brewing method you use can make all the difference in the taste and quality of your coffee. Two popular brewing methods are the Moka pot and the French press. While both methods produce delicious coffee, they have their unique characteristics that make them suited to different preferences.

In this blog, we'll explore the differences between Moka pot coffee and French press coffee, and help you decide which one is right for you.

Moka Pot Coffee

The Moka pot, also known as a stovetop espresso maker, is a traditional and popular brewing method in and around Europe. It's a small and portable pot that brews coffee by passing boiling water through ground coffee beans. The resulting brew is a strong and concentrated espresso, perfect for those who love their coffee with a kick.

One of the significant advantages of using a Moka pot is that it produces a strong and full-bodied coffee with a rich aroma. It's also an affordable option compared to investing in an expensive espresso machine. However, the brewing process requires a bit of skill to get the right consistency and flavour. It also has a limited capacity, usually only 2 – 3 cups, which may not be suitable for larger groups or families at one go. Additionally, the brew can be too strong for some people's taste.

Find  Moka Pots here: https://sipologie.in/products/sipologie-roma-3-cup-moka-coffee-brewer-red

French Press Coffee

The French press, also known as a press pot, plunger pot, or cafetiere, is a classic and popular brewing method that produces a full-bodied and flavourful coffee. It consists of a glass carafe/ cylindrical pot, a plunger with a filter, and a lid. The coffee is brewed by steeping coarsely ground coffee beans in hot water for a few minutes and then pressing the plunger down to separate the coffee from the grounds.

One of the significant advantages of using a French press is that it produces a rich and full-bodied coffee without the strength of an espresso. It's also an easy-to-use brewing method that requires no paper filters and has a large capacity suitable for brewing coffee for a group. It's also an affordable option compared to drip coffee makers. It's also not as portable as the Moka pot, making it less convenient for outdoor activities or travel.

Find our French Press here: https://sipologie.in/products/sipologie-vintage-copper-french-press-coffee-maker-600ml

Which One is Better for you?

When it comes down to it, the choice between Moka pot coffee and French press coffee depends on personal preference. If you prefer a strong espresso, the Moka pot is the way to go. It's also a more portable option than the French press, making it great for camping or traveling. However, it can be challenging to master the brewing process, and it has a limited brewing capacity.

On the other hand, if you prefer a rich and full-bodied coffee without the strength of an espresso, the French press is the better option. It's easy to use and has a larger capacity, making it ideal for brewing coffee for a crowd. It's also an affordable option compared to drip coffee makers. However, it can sometimes produce coffee with sediment or sludge, and it's not as portable as the Moka pot.

Conclusion

In conclusion, both the Moka pot and French press are excellent options for coffee lovers who want a rich and flavourful cup of coffee. It ultimately comes down to what you like and what works best for you. Whichever brewing method you choose, make sure to use high-quality coffee beans and experiment with different ratios and brew times to find your perfect cup.

[techploration]

Trash Dehydrator

Scenario

Ground water is poisoned and industrial pollution makes rain just as toxic. Fresh water is a prized commodity. Most grey water is recycled back into drinking water, and most sewage solutions are zero to minimal water. People get really good at keeping their water loss to a minimum

But there are two problems with this solution— there is no such thing as a zero loss system (you will lose water over time) and you will get a buildup of chemicals that are difficult to separate out (like medications). So you will have to keep getting fresh, clean water to add to the system.

So how do you make fresh water? You can take polluted water and clean it/filter/distill/etc until it is clean. But that is expensive, and you run the risk of using more water than you produce (most power generation consumes water as well). Creating water from pure hydrogen and oxygen is famously inefficient. Desalinating sea water is considered a last resort. So what do you do?

YOU DIG UP ALL THE WATER YOU THREW AWAY

The landfills of the 20th century are filled with trash that acts as water time capsules. All those homes that Detroit demolished during the 2009 recession? Those wood beams are filled with precious moisture

The Future Tech

Alongside the metal scrap dealer is the moisture scrapper, who moves from defunct landfill to defunct landfill, sorting the trash for best moisture content to contamination potential. They set up a rig that grinds the trash down to a coarse pulp and feeds that through a low oven to evaporate out the water. The exact temperature and timing of the rig is trade secret of the moisture scrappers, and everyone also has their personal tricks that they swear by. The key is just enough heat to get out the water, but not hot enough to start leaching out other chemicals. The dried trash is perfect fuel.

It’s not an easy job. One bad item tossed in can ruin an entire batch. The best, most obvious sites were plundered immediately. Now people have to dig deeper, more obscure places to find untainted trash. People poison each other’s claims to ruin their take.

The dehydrators themselves run from massive (the ‘house eater’) all the way down to portable. The most popular version is a converted dominos pizza oven (after the chain collapsed they were cheap and plentiful)

[5-seconds-in-heaven]

Bad Teacher, pt 3

Mid-morning sunlight filtered into the room through the windowpanes, flooding the floor and furniture with light, and I watched specks of dust float helplessly through the stagnant air before floating off into shade through still-sleeping eyes. After making a mental note to vacuum, I reached my arms up over my head to stretch as I laid appreciatively in the warmth of my blankets. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I propped myself up on my elbow and reached for my phone. 10:42, the time on the screen read. I never claimed to be a morning person.

I set my phone aside then, sitting up fully and stretching my body more before swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I stood, taking in my surroundings more: the dirty socks on the floor, the long-haired calico — that’s Momo — curled up at the foot of the disheveled bed, the books and vinyls and plants all in their places being gently kissed by light sunshine and dust. Inhaling deeply, I realized a small smile had formed on my face.

In the bathroom, steam slowly clouded the mirror as the streaming shower water hesitantly came to temperature — just below 3rd degree burns, that is. I moseyed back to the bedroom to get my portable speaker, because I can’t do anything without music. My own naked form in the full-length mirror beside my bed caught my eye on my way back to the bathroom. I paused and took a minute to admire myself; the curves on my body reminded me of winding backroads and bountiful hills. I used to spend a lot of time hiding my body and myself, I allowed my insecurities to rule my life. With time, I have learned to love being me. As I traced my silhouette slowly, with purpose, I surrendered to my thoughts, giving them access to roam. With my aforementioned insecurities came little luck in love throughout my teenage years — my home life definitely didn’t help. When I got to college, I found more freedom in escaping my family and the constraints of my hometown. I dabbled in going out with different guys, and I even had my first hookups. I was friends with benefits with this one guy I spent a while talking to, but it never amounted to anything more. That is the story with all of my sexual escapades.

However, it had been a long time since I was that chubby-cheeked, freckle-faced, cut-in-half-2x4-plank-of-wood of a girl. I was still small in stature of course, but I had gained some hips and bust thus far in my young womanhood. I was 23 now, and I finally found a decent job after searching for two years; I graduated early from my university with a major in journalism and a minor in women’s studies. I’d been reporting for an up-and-coming music magazine that specialized in underground rock and alternative music. Basically the best job ever. Being that I chose to go to university half the country away from my family in Minnesota, I obviously had to move out at the start of freshman year. I welcomed this move with open arms, although I know I’ll be working my ass off for the rest of my life to pay off my student loans; it was still worth it.

I smiled fully at myself in the mirror, thinking I looked pretty fucking good, if I did say so myself. I did a little dance and gave myself a small spank on the butt, giggling to myself, “To think there are people out there who didn’t want all of this.” Tossing my head back and letting out a laugh, I left the supermodel in the mirror behind to go wash the eye boogers and drool off of my face.

Speaking of those who got away, my mind drifted through my old crushes. The skater boy with the beanie who I used to see skateboarding past my house in the summertime who I never spoke to but made longing eyes at as I lazed in the hammock or the grass by the tree, the boy who played guitar for me who I discovered was not as down to earth as he portrayed himself to the world. My cheeks heated as I thought of one specific crush.

Mr. Hemmings.

I groaned and held my head in my hands, cringing internally as the scalding water ran over my frame. Late nights on Tumblr with my hand between my thighs came rushing to mind — along with pages upon pages of smut featuring this certain high school creative writing teacher. Smut-filled stories written by yours truly, the same shy, insecure virgin who didn’t talk to a boy until college you know and love.

I’d like to act like this wasn’t a common occurrence for me, that I had the ability to walk through my life without inwardly punching my own face for my past actions, but I am plagued by the memories of my own hormonal, criminally horny prepubescence every day of my life. Before I knew it, I found that my hand had again made its way between my thighs at the image of Mr. Hemmings’ face in my head: his lips trailed light kisses along my jaw and down my neck as his arm reached around me and held my body closer, tighter to him. His other hand teased my hardening nipple between his fingers, and he smirked against my skin as I tossed my head backwards, breathing out a sigh of relief at his touch. Lightly, he dug his fingernails into my skin as he dragged his hand down my back. That same friendly hand now snaked it’s fingers down my front to separate my folds and, light as a ghost, tease my —

Yeah… this is gonna be a long shower.

—

Squeezing my hair in the towel, I strode back into the bedroom, feeling refreshed. On the nightstand, I could see my phone lit up from a notification. It was a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown Number

You know, you’re a pretty talented writer.

I stared at the message, puzzled. Possibilities ran through my mind — past clients I’d written pieces for, old friends. Deciding to deal with it later, I put my phone down and set to starting my skincare routine. As I moisturized, my phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number

I suppose I can thank myself for getting your creative juices flowing.

Now I found myself intrigued. Who is this mystery man sending me vaguely flirty, vaguely ominous texts? Should I be horny or changing my locks? Either way, I’m horny. My fun time in the shower didn’t cut it. Alright, I’ll bite. I shoot back a quick text and make my trek across the quaint apartment to the fridge to chug some orange juice out of the jug. Why dirty another glass when I’m the only one who drinks it anyway? In the pocket of my sweatpants, I felt my phone vibrate. At least this mystery texter is quick to respond.

Me

you can thank yourself, but who should i thank?

Unknown Number

The man who got you started in creative writing, of course.

Creative writing. My stomach hit my feet and my heart jumped to my neck, immediately halting my breathing by lodging a lump securely at the base of my throat. I felt my heart beating fast and hard, my cheeks and ears heating promptly, as I paced the hardwood flooring and chewed on my fingernail. Why on earth would my 11th grade creative writing teacher have sought out my phone number? and then texted me with it?!

Alright now, get ahold of yourself, YN. It’s not out of the ordinary for an old mentor to reach out to past students, especially to congratulate them on their success, right? It’s no secret that I had been able to achieve great things thus far in my work, and I’m sure I help myself in that aspect by reposting my work on my social media platforms occasionally. Obviously, he had seen one of my articles. I’m still getting ahead of myself here; I haven’t even confirmed that the person on the other end of the phone is Mr. Hemmings. Mr. Tousled-Hair Hemmings. Mr. God-The-Things-I-Would-Do-To-Run-My-Fingers-Through-Those-Golden-Locks Hemmings. It could be someone else entirely, for all I know. Better get to work.

Me

many people have helped me get to where i am today.

Unknown Number

Alright, I secede. This is Luke Hemmings. Or Mr. Hemmings, if you still prefer that.

Heat rushed to my face all over again. I let out an audible scream before slapping my hand over my mouth and flinging myself onto the bed, flailing my extremities and squealing as I dove my face into the pillows to silence my episode, certain the paper-thin walls would inevitably fail to keep the sounds from my neighbors curious ears. Rushing to sit upright, I stared at the message through wide eyes. The confirmation was there, directly in front of me on the screen in my trembling hands, but I refused to believe it. I continued to stare at message, dumbfounded and confused. I wondered what piece he had seen that had made him want to reach out to a student he hadn’t seen in six years. I’d better respond, I didn’t want to be rude.

Me

Luke!

I stared at the message, nose crinkled. Is it less weird to refer to your old teacher by their first name or the name you called them by years ago? Does being sexually attracted to them influence the decision making process? I deleted the text, deciding to try a different approach. I also decided to bypass the questions about how did you get my number and whatnot.

Me

Mr. Hemmings, it’s great to hear from you! your class definitely had a great influence on me.

Unknown Number

I can see that in your work. I have to say, I’m impressed. It is tough to find good reading material these days. Your story definitely has some plot holes, and it ends on a cliffhanger, which is obviously problematic. A good author doesn’t leave their fans hanging indefinitely, you know. But for your age at the time, I’m quite happy with the quality of writing.

Panic shot through me. I felt the soles of my feet tingling as all of the air left my lungs, like wind rushing out of a clearing of trees. My mind raced through every piece I’d ever written — every editorial, every fluff piece. There was only one story he could have been talking about. But what did he mean he was impressed? He was happy? Is there any world, any universe in the metaverse of universes, where my old high school teacher would have actually been into the smut my prepubescent self wrote involving the two of us? That he would have found it years later and sought me out?

Just then, my phone buzzed from another text notification. This one contained a file.

Unknown Number

attachment: The Bad Teacher.wordx

[autumnalwalker]

Happy STS! What is your character's favourite possession? Share a snippet about it if you like 💜

Not something I've thought about for all my characters, but for the ones that I have:

From The Archivist's Journal:

The Archivist: The journal.

Maiko: A carved figurine of a animal that the Archivist has never heard of and may not exist in the world of the Village. Apparently it's something like a dog in behavior and social role if not in form. Her mother made it for her when she was a child.

Vernon: The coat that acts as the symbol of his status as Village mediator. How he doesn't get heat stroke walking around in it in tropical weather remains a mystery to the Archivist.

From Empty Names:

Road: Their shapeshifting jacket. Although given that it's sort of alive, it might be more pet than possession.

Sullivan: His wedding ring.

Ashan: Ashan (mostly by choice) has very few worldly possessions, and those select items that he hangs onto are each precious in some way. Here's a snippet about it:

It is always a strange feeling, waking up in an unfamiliar bed.  Doubly so when you are not used to waking up in a bed at all.  Though for all that strangeness, Ashan finds himself conceding to no one in particular that it does feel nice.  The weight of the blankets, the texture of the pillowcase, such things are absent from his usual habit of simply sleeping suspended midair inside a climate-controlled privacy ward.  Perhaps his standard sleep ritual is not quite as superior to ordinary bedding as he likes to believe.

Then again, he is finding it unusually difficult to get up and moving now that he is awake.  A result of poor sleep quality induced by physical bedding or just leftover exhaustion from yesterday?  Surely he is not giving in to the indulgence of luxury.  But it does feel nice just lying here, half asleep with the blankets curled tight around him and the morning light barely filtering in through dual layers of window and bed curtains.

Take a rest.  Sleep in.  You’ve earned it.

Ashan throws back the covers and pivots to sit upright with his legs hanging over  the side of the bed, brushing against the surrounding drapery.

That is the sort of thing she would say to him on a morning like this.  Or… no?  That is what Road said last night before leaving him to retire for the evening.

Hers is the voice he imagines though.

Without the covers over him he suddenly feels terribly exposed.  Pulling the bed’s curtain aside, he reaches out, snaps his wizard’s raiment from where he left it last night and quickly slips into it.  He can count on one hand the number of times since returning to the world of his birth that he’s taken it off.  Not coincidentally, it’s the same as the number of times he’s actually bathed instead of simply magically cleaning himself and his clothes.  That had been the first complex spell his teacher had taught him and she’s ever been invented. 

If you never master another spell, at least learn this one.  Best spell that’s ever been invented. 

And yet, there was a relaxation to warm water that the spell’s efficiency cut out. 

He checks the contents of his sleeves, verifying that everything is accounted for.  Wand, white with a blended rainbow.  Coinpouch, now stuffed with more folded paper currency than coin.  Portable makeup kit, understated yet elegant in its lid’s design.  The sum total of his worldly possessions.  All gifts from her, directly or indirectly, the same as his robes.

He raises a hand to draw a mirror in the air but stops himself short.  He should not strain himself more than necessary after yesterday’s burnout.  And besides, there is a perfectly good vanity set against the wall opposite of the foot of the bed.

After opening the window blinds to let in the sunlight and a view of the estate’s gardens he takes a seat in front of the vanity’s mirror, sets down the makeup kit, opens it, selects a brush, and gets to work.

This had been a daily morning ritual for Ashan, once upon a time.  The subtle transformation of his face is not so much a masking over but a drawing out of how he sees himself.  He had tried to make adjustments when he had first gone his separate ways from his teacher - experimenting with the angle and curve of the eyeliner, going lighter on the contouring, altering the blend on colors - but it had never felt like him in the mirror afterward.  While he might have copied her style to begin with, it was his just as much as it was hers now.

Wrapping up the finishing touches and closing the box some minutes later he pauses, considering.  These days he normally ends the application with a spell to keep the makeup pristine and in place for a week or more in order to preserve the kit’s dwindling supplies that he still has not been able to find satisfactory replacements for on this world.  But there is the matter of overexertion to consider.

In the end, he returns the kit to his sleeve and heads to the bedroom door without any spellcasting.  If there is one occasion that warrants wasting a little bit of material to look his best then surely spending a day in the home of the sorceress Bridgewood is it.

[pokemonshelterstories]

I was wondering if you had any experience caring for frillish? Especially disabled frillish? One recently came into my care and I’ve been researching the topic a lot, but it’d really help to hear from someone who has had first-hand experience. She’s in the medical ward of a pokecenter rn but once she’s out I want to make sure her tank is big enough and properly equipped (I know it needs to be cylindrical but she can’t move well and I’m worried about a pump and filter pushing her around too much/hurting her). I’m also wondering how much risk there is in keeping her in a small tank temporarily so she can ride on the back of my power wheelchair and stay engaged with me and my team (she can’t move at all out of water unlike other frillish)? I got her a dive ball to replace her old regular pokeball, as I figured that would be more comfortable, but I don’t want to keep her in the ball all the time, yknow?

Sorry if this is a lot/oversharing, there’s no pressure I just figured it might be good to ask.

- @cinderpaw11

not oversharing at all! for her disability, you really need to talk with her vet about the best way to make accomodations for her. that being said, if you get a specialized tank designed for frillish, she should be okay! frillish spend a lot of time carried about on currents. as long as she's still able to filter food, she should be okay.

as for the portable tank- unfortunately, there's not really a way to do that without it being uncomfortable or stressful for her. changing tanks is already a pretty stressful event for a water type, and it would have to be a really sizeable (and therefore heavy) tank to keep her safe and comfortable. the good news is pokeballs are really designed with a pokemons comfort in mind! giving her a diveball is a great way to ensure that she's happy while you're out and about.

[saganlife]

5 Gallon Jug Water Filter System, Countertop Water Filter (Jug Not Included) - Sagan Life

With the Journey™ water filter for your 5 Gallon Jug easily dispense purified, greating tasting water obtained from the convenience of your kitchen faucet.

To Know More: https://saganlife.com/product/5-gallon-jug-filter-system/

[turonzamin]

Hydronix HX-SWC-45-1005/3 Universal Whole House Sediment String Wound Water Filter Cartridge 4.5" x 10"-5 Micron-3 Pack, White

Price: (as of – Details) 3 pack – the Hydronix swc-45-1005 polypropylene string wound filters have a particle retention size of 5 micron and are used in a residential and commercial water filtration system applications. The filter has an outside diameter (OD) of 4.5″ and overall length of 10″. made of 100 percent pure polypropylene cord, the cartridge has structural stability, and is resistance…

[saganlifellc]

AquaBrick Water Purification System

[aquagrand]

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[osborneelectronics]

Best Canon Portable Photo Printers 2023: options for all budgets and styles

Canon offers several portable photo printers that are great for printing photos on the go. Here are some of the best Canon Portable Photo Printers:

Canon SELPHY CP1300: This compact printer produces high-quality, 4x6 inch prints with vibrant colors and is compatible with a variety of devices including smartphones, tablets, and memory cards.

Canon IVY Mini Photo Printer: This pocket-sized printer uses ZINK (zero ink) technology to produce 2x3 inch prints that are smudge-proof, water-resistant, and tear-resistant.

Canon SELPHY Square QX10: This printer produces square prints (2.1 x 2.1 inches) that are perfect for social media photos. It also features built-in filters and border options, as well as compatibility with the Canon PRINT app.

All of these printers are easy to use, lightweight, and portable, making them great options for on-the-go printing.

[heroin-antiheroine]

So I've smoked heroin and I use fentynal also blues and other opiates but I've fully already made up my mind about wanting to start shooting up heroin also. I understand the risks and all that and it's been hard to find anyone willing to kinda give me tips on what to expect and how to cook it and safety tips while slamming it. Do you have any advice and any methods or tips you'd recommend (other then not slamming it ) please

sure, i have no desire to talk anyone out of slamming bc i'd be a hypocrite anyway. your mind's made up, may as well do it safely. this is gonna be long btw, i have a lot of advice & harm reduction is something i'm passionate about. sorry if this is a bit late btw. i don’t check tumblr mega often. but i reckon it will help someone even if you found advice elsewhere. 

list of things you need to bang up: gear (obv lol), sterile needles (you can get completes or detachables), sterile spoons, alcohol swabs, filters or cotton, citric acid/vit c if you’re using european/no.3 heroin (& i think black tar, however it would be best to ask someone who uses that), clean water (cold tap water is fine. they say boiled & cooled is the best but i just use clean cold tap water. bottled water is less good), a lighter (to cook), paper towel (to press on the wound after injecting), a plaster (to cover the wound). 

here are some extra things that i use: milligram scales (so i can ensure a safe dosage every time), magazine (to use as a clean surface), hand sanitiser (washing your hands is best but you may be unable to do that), clean scissors (to cut the filter, don’t rip them), a mini portable heater (heat brings out your veins), another glass of water (to drink to bring out your veins. i drink out of a pink cup & use a blue cap to bang up with, so i don’t confuse them), a pack of sweets (sometimes you need to eat sugar to get a hit lol).

just a disclaimer: i’m english so i get european/no.3 heroin. this differs to american ecp/no.4 in that you have to cook it with citric acid/vit c. here are my step by step instructions to banging up: get clean water in both cups, weigh out my portion of heroin in a sterile spoon, unwrap a sterile needle, use that to get 3 units of water from the cup, pour into the spoon. then i add the vit c & cook it until it’s mostly dissolved with some brown bits floating on top (those brown bits are the cuts. the gear normally looks like piss lol). if you’re using ecp you won’t need to cook it. you will with tar though (edit: not necessarily actually, see the comments on this post). then get a filter, cut it widthways or don’t at all. i dunk mine in water to preserve as much gear as possible (otherwise it just eats it). drop it in the spoon, then use a needle to suck it up through the top. 

then you’re ready to bang up. i sit in front of a heater & drink the pink cup water to make my veins pop out. you can find a vein by pressing lightly on your skin. they feel kinda springy. since you’re a new user, you’ll probably be able to see some. don’t slap it, that can make it retract. i use my nails as a marker to know where to inject (like stabbing myself with my nail either side of the vein). you’re supposed to insert the needle at ~30 degree angle. you probably won’t know what that looks like, i don’t, but i have this trick for finding it. position the needle at a 90 degree angle perpendicular to your vein. then halve it by moving the needle down. now you have a 45 degree angle. now you need to take a 3rd off & then you’ll have ~30 degree angle. this doesn’t always work but it’s certainly very helpful. 

insert the needle FACING TOWARDS the heart. this is always the case unless you’re banging up in your neck or something, which i highly do not advise. for your arms, legs etc, the needle should be facing upward. i have never banged up in my shoulders etc & i wouldn’t. your arms will be fine for now. you want to learn how to hold the needle with one hand & become ambidextrous with it. i might include a pic after this with me holding it. i basically pinch my thumb & ring fingers together around the syringe. i use my index & middle fingers to hold the plunger & pull back then my index finger to press down. i use my little finger to stabilise the syringe. 

when i’m injecting in my feet/legs etc, i still only use 1 hand. i have seen people use both...i have no idea why. it just gets messy. you want to be an anchor. you want to insert the needle slowly & then after injecting, pull it out extremely slowly at exactly the same angle you inserted it. otherwise you will bruise. i use my right hand to inject in my feet & my left hand to pull the skin to stabilise the vein. then after i inject anywhere, i immediately grab paper towel & press down hard on the wound for multiple minutes. then i cover it with a plaster. 

i’m not sure if you’re female like me, but it can be hard to get a vein. women naturally have more fat & different types of fat than men. my arms are pretty thin but i still have fat in certain areas & it means the veins can roll. i often get around this by pressing my arms into my legs to hold them in place. some areas (like the backs of your arms) are extremely difficult to get & i don’t recommend them at first (i still struggle after 5 years of daily banging up). if you have a friend or partner that uses, you can ask them to hold the skin in place. don’t let them bang up for you though...their technique could be dangerous or harmful. & also, if you always let them do it & you get addicted, they might be out & you won’t be able to get well. you should learn to do it yourself in a safe way if you’re gonna do it. 

avoiding arteries: once again, this can depend on body type. they say the arteries are much deeper, but i can see them on my skin. they can really catch you out. i’m not gonna tell you about different types/colours of blood bc it can vary by person & by vein/artery. however what i notice about arteries is the blood shoots up the side of the needle extremely fast. if you try injecting, you’ll feel a bit of pressure. this is telling you to stop. if you still continue, you’ll most likely feel an awful electric saw style pain. it is like a shock to the system. if you feel this, immediately take the needle out & press down with paper towel on the site. it should be fine, but if it doesn’t stop bleeding, seek medical attention. HOWEVER not all arteries are painful. i have made this mistake. 2 of mine on each forearm are not. this just means no matter where you are, inject slowly. you will feel the gear. if you do not, you’ll see the site start to blister. hopefully this can save you a trip to a&e. 

missing: sometimes you’ll slip out of a vein & you’ll miss. you’ll feel pain, it’ll be a sort of blunt pain not like an electric saw. pull back again...oh woops you’re out. DON’T dig around trying to find it again. that can rly hurt your veins. just pull back & try somewhere else. if you get it again on the way back, you can try again. just don’t dig. if you miss, you might see a lump under your skin. if you’re only using gear, not crack/coke, you’ll be fine. put a plaster & hot compress on it. take care of it & use a medicated cream. if you’re snow/speedballing, you’re at risk of an abcess. i can’t help you too much there bc i’ve never snowballed. 

using with someone else: you should have separate everything! do not share water, spoons, filters, swabs, definitely not needles. colour coded needles are very useful but if your needle exchange doesn’t do them, then you can mark them with pen or sit in different areas of the room. sit in the same room/area just so you can be ready with naloxone if you need it. naloxone should be given out through any needle exchange. you can get injection ones & nasal spray ones. they have instructions with them & you should go through a small training thing in order to use it. 

finally, needle gauges. i use 29g all over. it’s the smallest complete they offer. this is bc i have small veins. men may use 27g, which is a slightly larger gauge (the numbers go backwards). at our needle exchange, they don’t make detachables smaller than 27g. so i don’t use detachables. you’ll wanna go with 27 or 29 for arm veins, or 29 or 30/31 (if they do them) for hands & feet. apparently you should use a different longer needle for your femoral vein. i do not use it so i can’t tell you which one it is & i highly recommend not using your femoral. i’ve known people that have lost legs from hitting the artery there. 

be safe, be clean, be careful. it’s kinda my motto. i’ve been banging up for 5 years, never had an abcess, infection or overdose (touch wood lol). do it yourself so you can do it right. & just don’t be an idiot & bang up with flavoured water or crack rocks that have been in gauze or use lemon juice instead of vit c (can make you go blind) or share needles. these are all things ppl i know do. i feel like you have to go out of your way to be unsafe. but i feel for you if you don’t have a good needle exchange near you. i would advise not banging up at all if this is the case.