#I’m sick of this fucking country we are so cooked

[an-american-crisis]

does trump have a secret curse where he MUST bring jan 6th and illegal immigration up in every possible scenario lest he spontaneously combust or something

[navybrat817]

Dusk to Dawn

Pairing: Ranch Hand!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky reflects on how far gone he is for you when he picks you up during a night out. Word Count: 1.56k Warnings: F/lirting, feels (it's me), dr/inking, pet name, implied s/mut, ranch hand!Bucky (he’s a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass , Divider - @firefly-graphics, Header - yours truly A/N: @rookthorne, this Sunbeam is for you. Also @sebastianstanbingo square: "I'm going to f-ucking ruin you."❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own! Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky put the truck in park once he arrived at the bar. It was a nice night, the air still warm enough that he had his window down on the drive over. He had to work a little later than usual and would’ve felt guilty missing dinner, but you had already made plans to go out with the girls. You still had a meal wrapped up and waiting for him once he finished out his day. Steve and the other boys were jealous of your home cooked meals and for good reason.

Always taking care of me, Sunbeam.

Now he had to take care of you.

The familiar sound of chatter and live country music greeted Bucky as he walked through the door. It was a slower night, but still crowded enough that he had to dodge a few people. Like many in the town, the two of you were regulars there and it was rare for you to be there without him. He tipped his hat when he made eye contact with Scott behind the bar, who nodded toward your usual table along the far wall.

"Bucky!" he heard you shout before he looked your way. "You're heeeeeeere!"

He wondered just how many drinks you had. Enough that you were feeling good, but not enough to get sick. You could hold your own.

"Now we can get the party started," he smirked.

What followed was a beautiful laugh as you stood up from your chair and he couldn't stop himself from staring. Your smile was like watching the sunrise and he felt lucky he was worthy enough to see it another day. You chose to wear one of his favorite sundresses and paired it with the perfect pair of boots, giving him a chance to appreciate your perfect body. He unconsciously licked his lips as he sauntered toward you and noticed you did the same.

"Seeeeeee, what did I tell you?" you asked the group at the table when he stopped a foot away from you. "I said I’d bag the hottest guy here tonight.”

"We know. We all know," Darcy playfully rolled her eyes at the other girls. "Bucky's hot and he has a big dick and you love him. Blah, blah, blah."

“I thought ladies didn't kiss and tell," Bucky smirked when you invaded his space.

"Oh, I stopped being a lady the moment you had your wicked way with me," you smiled sweetly. "You ruined me. Congratu-fucking-lations."

"Is that right?" he asked, knowing he'd never forget that night.

He'd also never forget to treat you like a lady.

He inhaled the sweet liquor on your breath when you framed his face and leaned in close. You didn’t quite kiss him, but you did smile when your lips ghosted against his. He yearned for more.

“It is right ‘cause I’m right. You’re hot and you do have a big dick you know it. You ruined me, mister,” you said, moving a hand to poke his firm chest. “And you're soooooooooooo cute. How’re you hot and cute? Explain.”

The laugh Bucky let out was enough to make your friends laugh along with him. You could be a sweet or feisty drunk depending on the mood. The last time you got feisty was when some out-of-towner tried to hit on him. You made sure to let her, and everyone else in the bar, know he was a taken man.

As if he could want anyone else when he had his Sunbeam.

“Just the way I'm made,” he smiled, placing his hands on your hips and lightly swaying you to the music. “Like I'm made to love you.”

You didn’t say “aww” along with your friends, but your gaze softened a bit more. He didn’t believe the bullshit that a man had to be silent or embarrassed about loving anyone. He loved you and he was going to say it as often as he could.

“Is that why you’re here tonight?” you asked, a dreamy smile on your face as you plucked his hat from his head and placed it on yours. The smile you gave him was one of his favorites. “'Cause you love me?

"Yeah, I am,” he smiled back, one reserved just for you. It was one of your favorites. “You called, so I came running."

Where you go, I go.

"Then it’s a good thing I'm ready to go home with you, handsome. But I'm warning you, I’m not planning on sleeping. Gonna keep me up from dusk to dawn," you said happily before a thoughtful look crossed your face. "Or is it dawn to dusk? Doesn't matter. You're fucking me. That's what matters."

"You know I gotta get up early tomorrow," he reminded you as he tried not to laugh.

He worked hard to keep the place running and so did you. The tasks wouldn't do themselves, but the enticing thought of your legs wrapped around him as he indulged in your wet heat was worth dragging a little tomorrow. He'd catch up on sleep later.

"Not the only thing that needs to get up," you said, smirking when the realization crossed his face. "Ohhhhhh. You picked up what I put down."

"Now you're just teasing me," he said.

You yanked him closer by his belt buckle. "Teasing you would be telling you I'm not wearing anything under this dress."

He groaned quietly, suddenly jealous of the chair you occupied before he showed up. "You want me to fuck you before we get home?"

He took pride in seeing a tremor wrack your frame. "You better, Bucky Barnes, otherwise I'm fucking myself."

Hot, but not tonight.

"Where?" he smirked.

"My pussy. That's where," you said without skipping a beat.

A random guy nearby drinking his beer might've heard the exchange since he began to cough. The two of you certainly had a way with words. He didn't care if the entire bar heard it.

"Oh, I'm fucking your pussy," he promised. It was a feat he didn't start to twitch in his jeans. "I meant where are we doing this."

You hummed as you contemplated. "Bathroom or truck bed."

The image of your pussy soaked and waiting for him to fill it took over his thoughts more and more. He wondered how much shit he'd get if he dragged you off to the bathroom. It wouldn't be the first time. Throwing inhibitions out the window was something he grew used to with you.

But the truck bed might be better. He could also least lay you down. Not the most romantic gesture, but also not the worst place two of you had fooled around.

The fun part would be deciding if it would be done in the parking lot or if he'd pull over on the way home.

"Truck it is," he announced as he pulled you away. "Say g'night, ladies."

"Yeah. Please, leave," Darcy teased.

You looked over your shoulder as the rest of your friends said their goodbyes. "G'night, ladies! I'm going home with that hottest guy in town. Don't come looking for me."

And I got the most beautiful, amazing girl in town.

"Take care of her!" Darcy yelled.

"He will! I'm his Sunbeam," you said proudly before you went out into the night air and leaned into him with a giggle. "Hey."

"Hey," he smiled back, keeping you against him.

"Did you hear me? I'm your Sunbeam," you whispered before you giggled. "I'm your girl! You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know that," he chuckled at your happiness.

What you didn't know was that he had a ring ready for you so he could make it official. It wasn't fancy or flashy, but it was bright and beautiful. Like the sun.

Like you.

"Forever your girl?"

"Forever my girl," he replied, his voice thick when he put a hand to the back of your neck. "You'll always be mine, Sunbeam."

Butterflies fluttering from a kiss isn't just something that happened with girls. Because the second he put his lips against yours, he felt like he'd float away if you didn't keep him on the ground. Even with your tipsy gaze when he pulled away, there was so much love in your eyes. It was brighter than all the stars above you. It was unconditional.

And he wanted to treat you like he was still trying to win you so he'd never lose you.

"Promise?" you asked so softly he almost missed it.

"Even if the sun stopped rising tomorrow, you'd still be mine and I'd be yours."

You were it for him.

"Good," you sighed in relief before you began to drag him to the truck. "Now get inside me," you ordered.

"Oh, I will," he promised, watching your hips sway.

You didn't stumble once as you found the truck, You were an impressive woman. And he was so far gone for you.

I'm going to fucking ruin you.

He heard your sharp inhale from the words he didn't realize he said out loud. "Told you, Bucky. You already ruined me, but you can do it again," you said, tapping the top of your head. "And I'm keeping your hat on."

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, knowing those two words would send more shivers up and down your spine.

And he'd do a lot more than that before the sun came up.

Do we want more of them, lovelies? Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bang-bang-gang]

"Most people just have to deal with one idiot. You both will someday be the death of me." claudio/yuta/eddie

I don't know who you were hoping would be the one speaking, but I liked all three options so much I had to struggle with picking one. But yeah, it's definitely Yuta sick of his boyfriends pretending to hate each other <3 Thank you for the prompt!!

(read on AO3 instead)

--

It’s one of those days. For hours now, Eddie and Claudio have both been crabby and rude towards one another. The bickering has been growing louder in volume by the minute. There is, technically, a door that would close off their side kitchen from the living room — but for some godforsaken reason, they’ve decided to leave it open while they cook.

Which is an issue if they keep fighting, because Yuta’s trying to get some work done.

Yuta hums while he taps away on his laptop. “Hey. Do you guys think the weather on the west coast is nice?”

The men in the kitchen fall silent. Claudio rounds the corner. “What did you say, my love?”

“Just wondering what the weather on the west coast is like.” Yuta takes his glasses off and looks up at his boyfriend.

Eddie enters the room, drying his hands on a dishtowel. “Depends on where you go. The west coast is pretty big.”

“Why are you asking?” Claudio gets closer, trying to look at Wheeler’s laptop screen. “What are you looking at?”

“Apartment listings,” Yuta says in a casual tone. “Y’know, I remembered I have an employment contract that puts me on national television every week. So I no longer need to split rent three ways. I could pack up and move across the country by myself whenever I want.”

“Now hold on a second…”

“Why would you want that?” Claudio has the audacity to look crestfallen.

“Thinking about trying out monogamy.” Yuta plasters his face with his fakest smile. “Most people only have to deal with one idiot. I’m not gonna be able to handle the both of you much longer, with the way you argue. And you won’t even close the fucking door while you do it!”

“Is that right?” Eddie’s squinting, and his eyebrows knit together in a way that Yuta knows he’s bound to explode for real any second now.

“A pity,” Claudio murmurs, and he moves to stand behind Eddie. “For you, I mean. There would be a number of things you would miss out on, if you were to break up with us.”

He wraps his arms around Eddie, embracing him from behind and challenging Yuta with piercing eyes.

“Like what?” Yuta asks, folding his laptop shut. His men have stopped arguing, so they deserve his full attention.

Claudio trails a hand down Eddie’s front, across the flat of his chest and then over his stomach. He tugs on the fabric of his white shirt, stained with dishwater and already clinging to him but now rucked up to reveal glorious skin. The shirt goes up, up, and up, until all the beauty of his soft tummy is on display.

Yuta hungers to bite.

“If you break up with us, you will never get to see Eddie shirtless again during sex. You know I’m the only one that knows how to get him naked.”

It’s true: Eddie doesn’t even bother to struggle against him like he would if Yuta tried to touch his stomach. Instead, he leans into the touch while glaring daggers at Yuta.

“Spoiled brat wouldn’t get to have sex with me at all if he dumps us.”

“Now, hold on a second,” Yuta says quickly. “I wasn’t actually serious about moving out.”

Claudio tuts condescendingly while he works a hand up Eddie’s front to fondle his chest as he stares Yuta down. “I think you said you couldn’t handle the two of us. So how about we give you what you wish for?”

Eddie’s grinning now, because he’s evil. “That’s right. Maybe you should fuck me in the kitchen. With the door closed, like he wanted.”

“This is cruel,” Yuta says, his treacherous dick growing hard at the sight of his men groping each other. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Too late,” Eddie says, his face filled with glee. Evil. “We’re doing it, right now!”

And with those words, he allows Claudio to push him into the kitchen. Eddie’s shirt is discarded on the floor right before they shut the door.

Yuta puts his glasses back on and opens his laptop again. The sounds of moans bounce through the kitchen door, and he can’t read a single word on the screen.

[netscapenavigator-official]

I’m honestly so sick and tired of people all of a sudden being like “politics is so cooked. You all lack basic human empathy.”

Like, oh I’m sorry, I didn’t fucking realize we needed to extend an extra helping hand of empathy to a fascist whose name was all over the Epstein files, and who also allegedly made a film of himself raping a 13-year-old girl.

Like, jee-fucking-wiz, if you want to extend an extra hand of sorrow to a man who pridefully taped himself raping a child, be my guest. But you won’t see me doing the same fucking thing, you center-left freaks. That man didn’t deserve to get shot at, nooo… because he deserved to be shot. Period. Suck it up.

Sorry I don’t have “empathy” for a pedophile who has done nothing but berate, dehumanize, target, and promote violence towards my community. But Boo-fucking-hoo. If you care so much about people like him, then you can do the sympathy work. I genuinely could not care about the life of a person who has made sure half of this country doesn’t care about mine, and if you think that’s crazy, then you’re the one that’s cooked, my friend. Ally my ass.

[jewishbarbies]

Lately several of my “friends” (I struggle to view them as such lately.) have started posting about how people shouldn’t vote for Biden bc he “supports genocide” and how we need to use our election to make a statement… and now today, they started talking about how they aren’t going to vote at all, as long as Biden supports Israel. They are seriously going to forfeit voting this year because of palestine.

I am so tired of this. We are really going to re-elect a fascist who is a fucking FELON. All because people are going to sit out and refuse to vote bc they’re more concerned with sticking it to the dirty Jews and sticking it to big bad evil Israel than they are with our own country, and what our government could turn into and what it could be capable of. We really learned NOTHING from 2016.

It’s going to be so much worse this time. I’m terrified.

(You know what though? Maybe people are being more honest this way. They’re no better than hateful conservative, right wing republicans who they claim to hate. At least conservatives don’t pretend to be my friend before they stab me in the back.)

not voting is infinitely more unethical than voting for the lesser evil. ESPECIALLY when the greater evil is a literal fucking fascist who wants to deport american citizens just for being brown, put homeless people in camps and then prison, and has admitted on the debate stage to knowing about the ukraine invasion in advance and NOT telling anyone. now that the supreme court has given presidents immunity to do crime as long as it’s deemed “official”, we’re fucking COOKED if he gets elected again. these people make me actually sick.

[letters-from-the-4077]

3x11: Adam's Ribs

Dear Dad,

Remember that flu season back in ’32? When it felt like you were gone every night jumping to every single household with a kid in it because everyone all got sick all at once? And how it was after mom died but you decided that I was old enough to stay home alone, only for you to come back on that Tuesday to find me throwing up my guts all over the floor?

Good times. Terrible times, actually, but despite my pacifistic tendencies, I’d fucking kill to go through that again than the fresh hell that is my current hell. I nearly wrote you this letter from the latrines, which is terrible on multiple levels, especially considering I was actually looking forward to write to you this time.

I’ve said before that one of these days I’m finally going to snap, and even though I’m still in one piece, I’m not convinced that it’s an uncracked one. Eleven days. Eleven straight days of liver of fish, making our own damn never ending season of seafood up in Maine truly dwarf in size. Eleven straight days and I’m half convinced that each subsequent day was just the previous one’s leftovers! The fact that they’re serving us kidney at all blows my fucking mind, and over a week and a half of it for every meal has me half convinced that I’ve dreamt it all up.

They don’t tell you about how every grueling day feels like a dream, same motions, same food, same jokes, just different supporting actors underneath my scalpel. 

On the seventh day God rested, and on the eleventh day Hawkeye Pierce fucking cracked. Like I said, there’s only so many days where a man can eat liver of fish. Trap and I made this ridiculous plan—honestly, dad, I didn’t think about it working or not. I just needed something to break up the monotony. Anything. ANYTHING.

You know the place in Chicago I told you about however many years ago? The one that had the best barbequed ribs in the entire country? Couldn’t remember the name at first, but it’s Adam’s Ribs. 

Adam’s Goddamn Ribs.

A couple of pulled strings and a hell of a lot of favors somehow managed to bring us back to Chicago. Or I guess Chicago to us. It doesn’t matter- the only thing that mattered is that we somehow fucking managed to get Adam’s Ribs in the worst corner of all of Korea and Igor cooked them up and hell dad, they were the best damn things I think I’ve ever smelled in my life. 

Course, ambulances poured in the second I had my hands on them, but it made for a hell of an OR session. That’s how they should be teaching speed for MASH surgeons. Nevermind the live rounds and constant shelling, just put the idea of tantalizing, edible food on a stick right above a surgeon and you’d get the fastest cutters in the West. East.

But, oh father, I know what you’re thinking now: why the reminder of the great flu season of 1932 when so far the only thing your dear child has spoken about has been spare ribs from the great state of Illinois?

Here’s where the story gets good. And by good, I mean fucking terrible.

Great OR session, by the way. Took out enough shrapnel out of intestines to build a full new bomb, and not a single patient lost. Igor reheated the ribs for me and Trap and we had what could only be described as the greatest midnight snack in the history of the entire war. Or not just in the war, but in the history of the entire world. We headed back to our bunks more full than after a Thanksgiving spread, and not even Frank’s sniveling could change a thing.

That is before a solid and conscience five minutes had passed.

Five minutes. Five lousy minutes of euphoria that just nearly made me forget about the terrible place that I’d been forced into. And then I spent the next hour and a half, throwing up every single bit of edible food. Made the worst flu pale in comparison, I’ll tell you that much. Couldn’t even make it to the latrine the first time, and I think I scared the wits outta Trapper since it probably sounded like I was vomiting up my organs right outside his side of the tent. 

He’s a good man, Trap. Picked me up off the ground like you would’ve and helped me stumble to the latrines where I could continue throwing up every bit of goodness that I had managed to make for myself in this camp. Practically held my hair back like I was his girl, believe it or not. 

I’m writing this letter from post-op, you know. Trap’s got himself convinced that I managed to get food poisoning from the long trip that the ribs made in order to get from us. Not sure how he’s reached that conclusion given that he has exactly zero symptoms, but hell, I’m not volunteering any other explanations to him.

Between you and me, I think I’ve become a bit of a cuckoo, if you can read between the lines there. 

I mean, what sane person would practically stage a mutiny just to get food from a specific restaurant that he couldn’t even remember the name of in the first place? If Henry was just 2% more done with my shit, he could’ve gotten me in real trouble. Hell, if Henry was any other CO, I’d probably be on trial with a death sentence looming over my head for the shit I pulled just to get the first real food I’d have since stepping foot on that plane. 

All that just to throw it up a few minutes later. I may not have snapped quite yet, but I’m cracking, dad. 

I hope next flu season is kind to you up there.

Love, Hawkeye

Previous | Next

[mikroaaurora]

confused

_____________________

 Woooow what a handful of a start to 2023. I think I’ve gone through the 5 stages of grief about 10 times during this month and a half. I’ve defiantly also experience a LOT within the shortest time although January felt like three months compiled into just one.

The BIG, big one was that I actually met someone, well this was December of 2022 but after about a month things were going well for us, actually things were going really well. I really liked this guy and I’m pretty sure he was reciprocating the same feelings back, and for me this was quite big because I had never been in a real relationship before, I mean I had dated a girl but she was my best friend so eh, and I had also dated long-out-of-the-country distance before, but I had never actually had a real relationship, and mind you this was with a boy.

I was nervous meeting him for the first date, hell I was shitting myself, honestly I think I almost considered driving back home, but I didn’t and we had a really great night.

Fast forward we would spend hours at night talking and watching movies (especially watching movies), staying up till 6am until one of us would doze off for a bit and then laughing at the fact we can both see the sun through our blinds. It was really really good, and it became quite a consistent habit to the point where I was wishing I just had one night to myself to play games haha.

I could also see my mood changing and I felt more happier, my family noticed me feeling happier.

A few weeks later after I saw him again things started to change, I mean he had his reasons that were completely reasonable so we talked a little less, took a little longer to reply to each other but it was okay, I had to understand. I just think that it was a little hard for me since we were talking so much constantly, I think I got a bit attached and clingy so I had to pull myself out of that mindset which wasn’t as easy but it got there.

Before I knew it we were not really talking at all and I was missing him constantly, at one point I think I got a little depressed for a few days because of it, since I was thinking… was it something I did? Did I do something wrong?? Whats happening???? But no matter what I could think of nothing has me pointing the finger at myself because we had just been like normal before we stopped talking so much. I struggled quite a bit through those probably 4 days, I didn’t do anything, wake up, watch tv all day, check tiktok a few times go to sleep, that’s all I did for about 4 days straight.

Honestly I would like to say a big fuck you to tiktok for also showing me so many relationship advice tiktoks on my fyp that fed into my anxiety and stress which didn’t help at all.

That was until I got sick of being sad.

One thing that I always admire about myself and pride myself on is how I can change my mood very quickly, and instantly motivate myself to be more positive. So I did. I was more positive and productive than I had been in the last 6 months. I was finally getting around to doing things I had put off for the longest time, I was waking up early, cooking myself new recipes and it made me feel really good!

Something that also helped was that I tend to get hyperfixated on something, in this case it was a movie/ movie characters, so tiktok I take that back thank you for feeding my hyperfixation.

Eventually I decided to text him after about 2 weeks of not talking, even though I was waiting for a response from him I said fuck it.

We talked for a few days but things just went back to normal and it felt like he was detaching himself a bit. But I kept gaslighting myself saying he’s busy, and tired because he was busy, he had a lot going on, but I don’t know things told me otherwise.

Now I think the worst part of this was he never established what we are, he did mention that we were in a relationship and god we acted like it but I just need that verbal confirmation.

I am still waiting for that confirmation and sometimes he’ll do things that will make me think okay we’re all fine, but then he’ll forget things that we had planned to do and I just get sad and confused all over again.

Confused that is the big word, constantly being confused.

Now I actually want to text him and ask him about what we are because I feel like it will be too hard to meet up and idk about calling, and I would like to know sooner or later before I become more confused with myself. But I told myself I would wait until valentines day is done just encase he decides to make a move, and wait until my trip this week is done since I don’t want to make myself stressed or sad.

But as for now the ball is in his court and I’m hoping he makes a move soon.

[lovingperfectionsblog]

The Run-Aways: Part 3

Pierre Gasly x Reader

Summary: Pierre finds out what it is to be consumed.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, allusions to sex, angsty.

Word Count: 1742

Authors note: So here is another part of the story, please forgive it not being my best work, but ya girl is suddenly so so so sick and so here it is :D I hope you enjoy it regardless and I can’t wait to hear what you think. 😊

The Run-Aways: Part 1

The Run-Aways: Part 2

The Run-Aways: Part 4 (Finale)

_____

“I’m really sorry, this is my friend Charles, is it okay if I take it?” Your nod prompting him to answer the call, Charles voice quickly filling the car.

“Good to hear you’re alive mate”

“Yeah you know I need to just get away eve-“

“Yes, speaking of you getting away, you really have to stop just disappearing”

You shot Pierre a sympathetic look, knowing you had done the exact same thing and you were waiting for the onslaught of questions when you got home, which unfortunately for both of you was tomorrow morning.

“Yes, I know but-“

“And why the fuck did I have to hear that you were okay from Max? And another question is why you were asking if he knew how to cook?”

“Charles stop talking!”

Pierre was suddenly frantic, confusing you and Charles endlessly but God had Max really had to oust him like that and indirectly Charles was about to throw him under the bus without even realizing it.

“I will not stop talking!”

Silence ensued from them both, an awkward little standoff happening, Pierre praying he would drop it.

“What the fuck have you gotten yourself into over there man, wherever you are”

“Listen, this really isn’t a good time”

“And why not?”

“I’m driving”

Pierre was doing everything he physically could to keep you out of this conversation that was delving into complete chaos in front of both your eyes.

“Since when do you care about talking when you’re driv- Oh my god it’s a girl. Is there a girl with you right now? Is that who you needed help cooking for?”

Charles had gotten all of that out before Pierre was even able to think about ending the call, frantically pulling over and grabbing his phone to talk to Charles privately in seconds, throwing you an apologetic look before he closed the door.

“Jesus, you were on speaker you fucking idiot” Pierre whisper shouted into the phone as he moved away from the car, nothing but Charles laugh filtering back through to him.

“So, there is a girl”

“Yes, there is a girl, and you just threw me under the bus in front of her! She was sitting right there!”

“Whose the girl?”

“Honestly, someone I met on holiday, and she didn’t have anywhere to stay so I let her stay by me for the week”

“You let a stranger stay with you in a different country?”

“Look, I’m not, this is fine, it’s all been fine”

“Oh my god”

“What?”

“You have a tone”

“What tone?”

“That tone when you talk about those rom-coms”

“I don’t have a tone when I talk about rom coms?”

“We literally refer to it as your ‘I-can’t-wait-to-fall-madly-in-love’ voice”

“Whose we?”

“That question is not important”

“Okay, it doesn’t matter, but I’m not using that tone”

“Holy shit, are you in love with her?”

Shit, was he in love with you?

No, that was absurd, he’d only known you for a week.

“Shit, you do love her”

“Shit”

“Pierre! A week!”

“It’s a summer romance!”

“Yes, a summer romance who you kind of ended up falling in love with and she is leaving at the end of a week, wait, when is she leaving?”

“She literally leaves tomorrow”

“Oh my god! A week Pierre!”

“When you meet her you’ll understand I promise!”

“Oh, am I now meeting your supposed summer romance?”

“Shit”

“It just all sounds like you don’t have a plan”

“Of course I don’t have a fucking plan. At no point did I ever plan on falling in love this quickly with a woman I met in an art museum in a different country!”

“Fuck”

“What?”

“That’s a really cute meeting story”

“Right?!”

“No, but remember, this is just a summer romance, who you have fallen in love with”

“Who I have fallen in love with”

“Have you guys slept together?”

“No, no, there was a brief moment where we nearly kissed, but I shut that down super quickly”

“Okay, no offence but that was the best plan”

“I mean, yes, but why do you think so?”

“Man, you’re such a hopeless romantic, you’ve not even kissed her and you’re in love with her, how on earth would you handle sleeping with her”

“Okay, yeah, that’s the exact reason why I haven’t”

“Not to like, cut this great conversation short”

“You called me”

“Yes, but isn’t she still sitting in your car”

“Fuck, listen I have to go”

“Yes, you do, don’t sleep with her and make sure she isn’t like using you”

“She doesn’t know”

“What do you mean she doesn’t know?”

 “I lied, she doesn’t know I’m an F1 driver”

“You do these things and like, I just, I don’t know what to do”

“Nothing, you do nothing, okay, bye, we’ll chat when I’ back”

At that point Pierre was running back to the car, the most apologetic look on his face as he sheepishly got back in the car.

“Well, that looked intense” you giggled out, having watched the entire interaction.

“Sorry, that was my best mate Charles, he just wanted to check up on me, doesn’t really like that I tend to just disappear sometimes” Pierre shrugged, eyes back on the road, getting you both back to the Chalet for your last evening together.

“No, no reason to apologize, just looked like it was getting heated” you laughed, hoping to never forget what you had seen.

“He’s very opiniated” he rolled his eyes, glimpsing back at you after, hoping to have made you smile. God, he was living for your smile these days.

“Well, at least he knows you’re safe now” you laid a hand on his arm, both of you struggling to ignore how right it felt to have your skin against his, “what are the plans for this evening?”

“Oh, I already organized food to be delivered, was hoping to just do some games and get drunk for our last night?” Pierre hated saying that, your last night.

“God, that sounds absolutely perfect” you gazed out the window towards the little chalet that was coming into view, the place you had considered home more than your actual home.

Without even knowing it, Pierre was feeling the same.

_____

“You absolutely did not do that” you laughed out at Pierre recanting of a situation with a friend of his, Yuki.

“Absolutely promise, he’s a character” Pierre’s chest was warm as he watched you laughed, more and more honoured that he was the one who could make you laugh like that.

“I don’t understand what on earth you could be running away from, your life sounds amazing” you hummed out as the air around you shifted into something slightly more serious.

“No, truly, I know I have the best life, more than you’ll ever know, but-“

Pierre was suddenly faced with two options; 1) lie or actually be vulnerable.

He couldn’t believe he was about to do this.

“But yeah, sometimes it all gets too much, constantly being bombarded by people, being expected to give up all that I am for other people to consume, and I don’t know, I just have to leave to remind myself that I am worth more than that” God it was the first time he had ever said that out loud, but once he did it felt like a weight had been lifted.

“And people always feel like they know the real you, but they don’t, not really, and there are some people you are willing to be consumed by, but not everyone” you finished his thought for him, thinking back to your own situation.

How did you understand him so well? What had he truly done in all his life to deserve even a fraction of the attention you were giving him?

 “And who are you willing to be consumed by?” it was a two-fold question, genuinely curious to know who was important enough to you and a silent plea behind it hoping he was.

“You”

And that was enough for Pierre. His original plan be damned, you could ruin him for all he cared, and he would forever be thankful he was a changed man.

The small gasp he heard come from you as he kissed you was music to his ears and the look you gave him that prompted him to the bedroom was enough to make him crumble.

The rest of the nights activities enough to kill Pierre and make him thank God that he allowed him the sweetest death he could ever have imagined. He was yours from this moment on and watching you drift off to sleep as you lay on his chest he knew he was yours forever, letting sleep take him comfortably with you finally in his arms.

_____

Pierre hadn’t expected to wake up alone, the loss of your warmth already too noticeable to him considering you had only spent a single night together.

He got up and made his way to the longue, expecting to see you sitting there, waiting for him with a cup of coffee, as your mornings had become, the perfect domesticity.

You weren’t there, and suddenly Pierre felt an ache in bis chest, moving through the entire Chalet, praying you were still there, that you hadn’t just disappeared on him.

Every ounce of hope he had was dashed as he saw your bags that had been packed the night before were gone and there, taped to the front door was a note.

‘Dear Pierre.

I am so sorry. You deserve more than this, and lord knows I will regret leaving you for the rest of my life, but as always, I am a coward, and I don’t think I would have survived saying goodbye to the man who has consumed me wholly and entirely.

Thank you for letting me love you, even for the briefest of times.

-yours.���

Pierre felt the tears begin to well in his eyes, the salt stinging slightly. He knew that there was no other option than this and truly he understood why you had done it but as much as you had allowed him to consume you, you had done the same to him.

Pierre didn’t know what else to do.

“Hey mate. Are you crying? Are you okay?”

Charles hadn’t expected to see a crying Pierre on the other side of the call so early in the morning, immediately panicked for his friend.

“She’s gone”

[ilikemesometaetaes]

Good Day (M)

Jeon Jungkook Oneshot

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes​

•••> Summary: His motive was made quite clear once he called you out of work. He just wanted to spend a nice day with his girlfriend. Is that too much to ask for?

•••> Pairing(s): Jungkook/Reader

•••> Requested by Anon: “Can I request a Jungkook oneshot(established relationship) where they just want to spend the day just getting drunk on wine and having sex on the couch? Y/N could be dressed in just his shirt and Jungkook in just his sweatpants”

•••> Word Count: 6.15k [Unedited]

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Tags: smut | Established Relationship | Jungkook!au | Boyfriend!Jungkook | Lazy Day/Sex | Wine Drunk

•••> Warnings: smut, slight bloating!kink (but there isn’t actually any bloating), unprotected sex, dirty talk, kookie is a horny little fuck, he literally just wants to bone, all day, he’s also a drunken idiot sometimes, cursing, alcohol use, shower stimulation, showerheads can be a girl’s best friend, drunk sex, lazy sex

Copyright �� 2021 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.

Thank you for the request, anon! It took ages to complete and I’m so sorry! I hope you enjoy it :)

~#~

Arms tightened around your waist as you woke. The embrace was slightly suffocating.

“Baby,” You wheezed through your unused vocal cords. The grip only tightened and constricted your lungs, serving for a rude awakening. “Kook.”

“Murph.” Hot breath on your neck after a groan of exhaustion was a welcome feeling- comforting despite the uncomfortable position you were in. You smiled despite your lack of ability to move and looked down to see his tattooed arm overlapping the bare one over your ribs.

“I can’t-“ You were cut off as he tightened his grip with a slight whimper of distress.

Immediately plagued with concern, you grabbed his arms and wrestled them from your body so that you could turn to face him from within his encircled limbs. You only got more worried when you noticed his obvious stress-ridden eyebrows, arched up with eyelids fluttering rapidly. His lower lip was trembling as he quietly began muttering ‘no’ repeatedly.

“Jungkook.” You gently placed your hand on his bare shoulder and shook him. His fingers dug into your ribs painfully, warranting a more stern call of his name. “Jungkook!”

“No!” He yelled while sitting up abruptly and heaving for breath. You were thrown from his clutches and rocked on the bed from the movement. Despite the disturbance, you sat up with him and reached for his back to rub it soothingly.

“Baby,” You cooed, quick to reassure him with gentle touches. “I’m here. We’re here. You’re okay.”

Following your statements and ministrations on his back, his breathing gradually slowed with a few sputtering gasps and an audible gulp. Once you gauged his level of calm, you broke the silence.

“What happened?” You asked, tilting your head and leaning forward to get a better look at his face past his long hair. His eyes were shut tight with eyelids wrinkled at the corners while he inhaled slowly through flaring nostrils.

Your boyfriend opened his eyes after a moment, blinking a few times in the process, before turning his head to set you in his line of sight.

“They were taking my dad away.” He wavered. “But he’d already completed his time.”

You knew better- Jungkook’s father was safe in the comfort of his own home in Busan, already having served the mandatory enlistment for his home country- but you also knew that you needed to reassure your boyfriend so that he could relax his tensed shoulders.

“Do you want me to give him a call?” You asked. “I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing from us and it’s not too late in the evening over there.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jungkook said, letting the tremors fade from his body as he let reality sink into him. “He should get his rest. I’ll call him this evening.”

“Alright, Kook. Sounds good.” You gave him one more pat before looking at the clock. Your alarm would go off in eight minutes. “Shit. Might as well start getting ready now.”

“You do have work today.” Jungkook said the words as a statement, as if confirming prior thoughts.

“Yes,” You chuckled, smiling lightly and leaning in to kiss his cheek before getting out of the bed. “I do.”

A soft whine escaped his throat as he quickly grabbed onto your fingers. “Nooo… Don’t goooo…”

“I have to, baby.” You lightly tugged your fingers from his grasp to make your way towards the bathroom. Shuffling sheets from behind you signaled that Jungkook had also gotten out of the bed.

As you turned the shower handle and began taking off your clothes to shower, you heard him creep in behind you with light footsteps padding across the wooden floor.

“Don’t even think about it.” You giggled while he crowded his body against the back of your almost-bare one, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his ever-present morning wood against your skin. “I can’t be held up.”

“Then call out.” He whispered into your ear, to which you pulled away and turned around so that you could raise an eyebrow at him. Did he really just tell you to call out of work just so the two of you could bone?

His eyes were dark and playful as if challenging you while you stared up into his gaze defiantly. You scoffed in disbelief. “Jungkook, I can’t.”

“Why not?” He jutted his lower lip out into a pout. Fuck. You internally scowled at his tactics, hating the way your heart began trying to convince your brain to consider calling out.

Before you could crumble under the pressure of his ways, you huffed out a response. “Because I can’t, babe.” You slid your panties off and opened the shower door to step inside.

“-And don’t even think of coming in here. I can’t afford to be late.” You added the last part as you closed the glass door behind you, knowing his next strategy would be to tempt you with his naked body- a strategy you would surely lose to.

Jungkook groaned, pressing himself against the door with one arm bracing his weight against the distorted surface while you wet your hair. You watched in amusement as he slowly began accepting his defeat.

“But you work all the time.” He whined again, causing you to smugly and mockingly pout in response.

“So that I can make money.” You jokingly copied his tone and continued with your shower before he backed away from the glass in silence and stepped towards the sink. You watched as his shapeless body moved, deducting that he was going to brush his teeth as he reached into the drawer where you kept the toothpaste. Once he placed the toothbrush into his mouth and began brushing, you smiled, shook your head, and continued to shower.

“Y’know,” His words were jumbled as the toothbrush obstructed his speech. “You gon’ make me act up.”

“Act up?” You asked while laughing. “How are you going to act up?”

Jungkook leaned over the sink and spit, leaving a break of silence to drag your curiosity further. Once he rinsed his mouth, he turned to look at you again despite being unable to see you clearly. He sighed dramatically.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, babe.” He quipped before exiting the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

You only scoffed at him again, rolling your eyes and hurrying with your shower to stay on schedule.

~#~

Fresh-faced and ready for work, you grabbed your purse and walked out of your bedroom to make your way towards the front door. The sound of something scraping against a pan while the oven fan hummed lowly tipped off that Jungkook was in the kitchen.

“Jungkook?” You called for him as you were about to round the corner. “Do you know where my phone is?”

The sight you walked in on was one of dreams.

Your boyfriend stood in front of the stove, cooking eggs and bacon, in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Muscular back on full display, you let your eyes slowly trail all the way down the cut definition around his shoulders to the dimples stamped into the flesh of his lower back. The adorable crevices were graciously uncovered because of how low his pants hung on his hips.

“It’s on the counter.” He haphazardly gestured to the kitchen island with the spatula he was holding. You had to gulp down the saliva that collected in your mouth and blink a few times to snap yourself out of your haze so that you could grab your phone and leave.

“Thanks, baby.” You rushed up to the counter, grabbed your phone to drop it into your bag, turned to kiss Jungkook on the cheek, and quickly began to leave. “I’ll see you later. Love you!”

“Oh, by the way,” Jungkook started. You stopped in front of the door to put your heels on. “Your boss called.”

“She did?” You reached into your purse and fumbled around for your phone. “What did she say?”

“She said she hopes you feel better soon.”

“What?” You froze, unable to understand, and looked up at Jungkook who had already set the food on two plates. “Why?”

“Because you’re bedridden right now. Your head hurts oh, so bad and you have a runny nose with a fever of one-hundred and one degrees.” He pouted and looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye despite wearing a somber expression on his face.

Realization set in all at once.

He. Did. Not.

“Jungkook,” You started, slightly upset. “I swear to god, if you did what I think you di-“

“A sick person shouldn’t be all dressed in heels and a pant suit. Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable and then come eat so we can get some food in your belly?”

You spluttered incredulously to a halt as he spoke, shocked by his drastic measures to keep you home. He lied to your boss and called out of work for you.

“What- exactly- did she say?” You gritted out.

Jungkook grabbed the two plates and walked to the kitchen table with a seemingly unbothered demeanor, placing them down carefully.

“She just said that you had it coming. You work too much for your own good and now you’re sick because of it.” He sauntered over to the fridge as you eyed him critically, glaring daggers into the back of his head while he spoke. “I agree with her, to be honest. You don’t look so good. All that working took a toll on you- do you want orange juice? Or water? Or some iced coffee?”

The oblivious facade only irritated you further, warranting you to kick off your heels, drop your purse, and stomp over to him. Grabbing him by the shoulder, you spun him around angrily, only to see a smug smirk plastered across his lips.

“I’ll take that as you wanting iced coffee. You were always a grump without some caffeine.” He grinned.

“Jeon Jungkook.” You hissed, glowering at him with increasing intensity. “What the hell did you call me out for?”

“I called you out-“ He started with a smirk, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and spinning you around quickly to press you against the fridge. His face morphed into a stern expression quickly. You never broke eye contact with him, intransigence unwavering under his pressure.

“- so that we can crack open those bottles of wine we hoard and I can fuck you open on the couch over and over again while we pretend to pay attention to a movie playing on the TV.”

Your anger dissipated instantaneously, brain functioning coming to a halt as his words sunk into your skin.

Well… shit. What’s your name again?

“Do you understand now?” Jungkook asked, leaning down far enough that his hair brushed against your forehead and his mint-scented breath tickled your nose and top lip.

“Y-yeah.” You stuttered.

“Good. Now, go change.” He grinned, backing away from you and reaching into the fridge to grab the orange juice and the iced coffee. You followed his command like a robot, excitement building in you so fast that you had no way to process the fact that you were livid with him moments ago.

It wasn’t long before you were bare-faced and clad in one of Jungkook’s shirts that you picked up from the bed. His scent filled the shirt, shampoo and body soap mixed with a slight edge of his natural musk. It was almost dizzying in your current state of arousal.

The heat between your legs distracted you throughout your breakfast as you sat at your small kitchen table across from Jungkook, but falling into a conversation with him came naturally. Your boyfriend lying to your boss about your sickness went easily forgotten as you began to enjoy the day off.

Before long, your plate was empty and all that remained in your glass of iced coffee was a few melting ice cubes. Looking over to Jungkook’s side of the table, you noticed that his dishes were also cleared of food.

“I’ll clean the dishes.” You said, getting up with your silverware, glass, and plate in hand.

“I won’t fight you on that.” He chuckled, getting up from his chair and grabbing his things too. “I’ll pour us some wine.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You affirmed.

As you set the now-clean items on the drying rack, you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the kitchen island with two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of some nameless wine that someone had gifted to Jungkook not too long ago in the other while he grinned at you.

“Couch?” He asked.

“Couch.” You nodded, nerves building in you once again at the mention of the location.

You were just about to finish your second glass when you noticed Jungkook reaching for the bottle to pour himself the last bits of wine left inside.

“Nooo.” You whined, causing him to turn and face you in the process of pouring the remaining alcohol into his own glass. “I wanted it.”

“Nuh-uh.” He playfully turned his body away from you so that you couldn’t reach for the wine as he poured it. “This was my idea, so I get to have three cups. We can open another bottle anyway. We have a shit load.”

“But this one tastes yummy.” You complained, grabbing onto his shoulder to lightly urge him to face you.

He looked into your pleading eyes for a few moments with his lips pressed into a tight line before he huffed.

“Fine! But on one condition.” He set the bottle down on the table.

You raised your eyebrow at him expectantly. “What is the condition?”

“I’ll pour you this last glass if you join me in the shower when you’re finished with it.”

The shower? Oh boy. “I already took a shower, Kook.”

“So?” He smirked. “That doesn’t mean anything. I want you in the shower if I give you this last glass.”

Slightly warm and agreeable from the delicious wine, you gave in with a grumble. “Fine. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Sweet.” Jungkook gestured for you to offer your glass so that he could fill it. Once he did, he brought the empty wine bottle to the kitchen and dropped it into the recycling bin, only to turn around and meet your following eyes as he stalked towards your bedroom with a devious smile on his lips. “See you in a few.”

You watched with slightly parted lips as he turned back around while beginning to hum an aimless tune to skip the rest of the way, giving you whiplash with how quickly he could turn from a man that made you lustfully feral to a boy that made you want to joyfully frolic through a meadow.

Determined to remain true to your word, you sipped your wine quickly. He wanted to be joined in the shower? So be it. It wasn’t long before your glass was empty once again.

Three glasses of wine and adrenaline pumping the alcohol quickly through your veins were the factors that caused you to feel a slight head rush and a bit loopy once you stood from the couch. Giggling softly at your condition, you left your empty glass next to his and headed in the direction of your bedroom.

Distantly, you heard smooth notes of a familiar song drifting from the bathroom. Jungkook loved to sing in the shower and you loved to listen to it. The sound of the water running only made taking a shower with him more inviting as you approached the closed bathroom door.

Sneaking in quietly, you shed your clothes once again, hoping to take him by surprise. Your plan only resulted in failure when Jungkook slid the door open to beckon you inside when you were in the middle of taking off your boyfriend’s shirt.

“C’mon, babe. We haven’t got all morning.” He smiled, wet hair mussed and pressed to his forehead.

“We don’t?” You laugh as you step inside so that he could close the door behind you. Immediately, you were encased in the tight, warm, and humid space. “I’m pretty sure that you made it so that we do.”

Swiftly, Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist and spun you around to meet the steady stream of water. Crowding your back with his chest, Jungkook pressed his face up against the back of your neck.

“I know, babe, but I have a few plans now that you’re off.”

“Plans, you say?” You giggled and craned your head down to get his wandering nose away from your neck. He knew that you were ticklish and loved to attack the spot when he got playful.

“Yes ma’am.”

After a moment of standing in the shower, the telltale signs of your situation becoming hot and steamy made themselves prominent in the form of Jungkook’s semi-hard erection brushing your skin and the subtle notes of a growl tainting the edge of his exhales.

“You alright there, baby?” You teased.

“Mhm.” He hummed, detaching a hand from your body to reach for the showerhead. “Just wanna rinse you really quick.”

“Be my guest.” You let your head fall back to rest on his shoulder and closed your eyes, heart slightly picking up its pace at the elevating tension. For a moment, both of Jungkook’s arms left you to change the setting on the water pressure and you felt the steady stream turn harsh right below your collarbones.

You hummed in appreciation while he returned one of his arms around your waist and began running the water over your shoulders and arms with the other. Gradually, he began massaging you with it.

It wasn’t long before Jungkook’s true intentions came to the surface; slowly, the point of the pressure moved south from your shoulders to your breasts. You felt the showerhead point the stream closer and closer to your nipples, causing your eyelids to flutter open and look at the man delivering the sensations to your body.

You gasped softly as the water covered your left nipple and Jungkook tore his gaze from your chest to meet your eyes once you did. What greeted you in his irises was pure, prominent desire.

“Kookie.” You whispered, lips brushing his as your body became electrified like a live wire.

“Say the word, baby.” He crooned softly, encouraging. The pressure on your nipples only left you with your lips slightly parted and taking sharp inhales with a whine teasing your throat. Jungkook only continued to push you along, desperate to hear. “That’s it, baby. Say it.”

You whimpered, barely able to get it out. “Please.”

“As you wish, my love.”

And then he made the showerhead descend further down.

Your toes curled against the floor in anticipation that was fueled by how slow he moved. Your stomach vibrated while the water migrated down your expanse of skin to the place you wanted it most.

As the water touched the top of your mound, you reached up and curled an arm around Jungkook’s neck to prepare for the onslaught.

Your moan was unexpected; the force of the water shocked you into submission instantly.

Jungkook’s grip on you tightened soon after, followed by the low, comforting ‘sh’ that slid through his teeth when your body curled inwards.

The water pressure, turned high, forced its way past your pussy lips with no trouble at all. In its trajectory, your clit was battered as the only thing in the showerhead’s path. The intense amount of stimulation had you approaching an orgasm faster than you could count to three.

“Jungkook,” You whined at a high pitch, unused to the most adamant sensation of pleasure you’d felt in a while.

“You’re okay, baby. Just breathe. It’s alright.” Your boyfriend’s voice in your ear came out as a soothing coo, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to breathe correctly when he was holding the showerhead so close to your bundle of nerves and tightening his grip around your waist to prevent you from escaping.

“I-I-“ You breathed so fast, it almost felt like you were hyperventilating. Your clit, taking the entirety of the assault by the water, throbbed wildly and spasmed as if attempting to get out from under the force.

Almost on instinct, you raised a leg to allow the water more access the the entirety of your pussy, hoping that your orgasm would crest upon you before you lost your mind, and braced your raised foot against Jungkook’s knee. You hoped that taking the attention off your clit would help balance out how boggled your mind was, but all it did was drive you crazy when you felt the pressure beginning to spread your folds apart to push inside.

“Oh, no. Now I can’t let that happen.” Jungkook spoke as if he were speaking to a child in disdain, repeating the word ‘no’ a few more times with his bottom lip jutted into a pout.

He moved the showerhead back up to solely torture your clit, warranting you to cry out and tighten your arm around the back of his neck while you squeezed your eyes shut. His voice turned into a growl. “I’m the only one who gets to be inside you.”

“No!” You groaned in frustration, jerking your hips in response to the stream returning to your most sensitive area. “Nononono baby, please.”

“It’s unhealthy for you, baby. I can’t put water up there. So just be a good girl and take it here.”

Jungkook seemed to punctuate his statement with a light twist of his wrist to circle your clit with the showerhead. Your legs shook from the strain of spreading them so hard and trembled from the new burst of stimulation.

It only took another few moments for your body to begin curling in on itself again.

“K-kook.” Your teeth chattered as you mumbled his name, eyes rolling back into your head.

Jungkook braced his back against the wall before squeezing your waist to lift your body against his chest. You had half the mind to help him, supporting some of your weight on his neck so that you could wrap your other leg around his to spread your thighs even further.

“You gonna cum?” His breathing was harsh in your ear as he watched your body.

Your response came out as a whimper of affirmation, unsure of how to speak with the vibrations of the water shooting up your spine and back down to your curling toes.

Jungkook’s erection throbbed against your back while you let out sounds that were a mixture of huffs for breath and moans of pleasure. At this point, though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything but making sure you orgasmed in the next five seconds.

You knew you were going to cum when you felt the tingling sensation spread like wildfire from your battered nub. It bloomed in your lower belly and seared every muscle in its path throughout your body, causing all of the sinew and tendons to tighten in response. As the orgasm ripped through you, your body became rigid with a few jerks of sensitivity.

Your eyes rolled back and you pressed your forehead against the side of Jungkook’s neck with the need to be as close to him as possible during your orgasm. Your ecstasy seared through you and overtook your body to act on its own accord. Far beyond the darkness of your eyelids, you reveled in the immense satisfaction, pussy spasming in the aftershocks.

Once Jungkook removed the showerhead and your body calmed, he slowly lowered you back down to the floor. Shaky legs prevented you from standing completely straight and you laughed breathlessly at how the prior activities caused an uncanny amount of oversensitivity in your nether regions.

One step forward and your clit was slightly rubbed, shooting sparks of mild pain and pussy-clenching pleasure throughout your stomach.

“You shouldn’t have done that, babe. I’m way too sensitive for any more action now.”

“That’s alright, love.” Jungkook kissed the side of your temple and switched you around so that he could stand under the stream of the shower. “Go and get dried off and dressed. I’ll meet you in the living room for a movie?”

As if it was glaring at you, you couldn’t help but drag your eyes down your boyfriend’s toned body to the angry red tip of his dick.

“I, uh…” You trailed off sheepishly. “I can suck you off? Let me help you out.”

“No, it’s okay, babe. Now, go.” He ushered you out of the shower while you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Why was he giving himself blue balls?

Leaving him alone in the shower was most definitely bothersome, but on shaky and fatigued legs, you couldn’t really fight him on the matter. As you toweled off and glanced through the shower door to look at Jungkook’s form, you furrowed your eyebrows even further when he didn’t start touching himself.

After you were dressed in his shirt- again- and sitting in the living room with Netflix open, ready for your boyfriend, you began to feel the exhaustion from your earlier activities on top of the fact that you hated waking up early for work. Comfortably warm, showered, and relaxed on an unexpected day off, the calm had your body sinking further into the couch and reveling in the warmth of the blanket placed over your body.

Just as you were about to drift off, you heard Jungkook padding down the hallway from your bedroom, prompting you to turn and look at him.

Your eyes had trouble staying on his playful expression when he was dressed the way he was dressed.

His hair was still wet, droplets dripping onto his shoulders and cascading down the expanse of his shirtless body. All that covered him was his favorite pair of raggedy joggers. Frankly, they were your favorite pair as well- for obvious reasons.

“Wine?” He asked as he made his way into the kitchen.

“Yesss.” You drawled with a newly awakened sense of excitement.

After grabbing two bottles and popping them open, he snuggled into the couch with you, wine glasses in hand. You held your breath and attempted to control your body, pussy pulsating slightly from the aftermath of the shower.

It took a while to get back to where you were before, but once you were much past the point of being giggly, you began to slur your speech as the movie played on.

Jungkook wasn’t in much better shape.

“You know,” Jungkook sat up and swayed a little too far forward, catching his body right before he toppled over. He snickered at himself before he continued. “I haven’t really been paying attention to anything we’ve been watching.”

“What?” You were honestly shocked, drunken mind and all. “But ‘About Time’ is so good! Like, what the heck Kookie-ookie-ook! This movie is so cute and interesting.”

The new nickname sent you into a fit of giggles. Your creativity tended to get a bit wonky and, honestly, comical when you were drunk.

“But how could I possibly pay attention to the movie when I’ve been thinking about burying my cum in-between your legs for the past hour?”

His statement surprised you to say the least. Your pussy throbbed uncontrollably, sensitivity still present from the shower. You couldn’t help but think of how sex with him in your current state would be.

“Why didn’t you let me suck your dick in the shower? I could’ve taken care of you, you know.”

“But I wanted to give you a break so that I could cum inside. That’s the only place I want to cum.”

“So you don’t want to cum down my throat?” You blamed the wine for the filthily honest statements coming out of both or your mouths. Speaking this casually about your sexual activities wasn’t exactly the norm.

“On any other day, I’d say yes. But today? I really just want to fill you up. Fuck you all day.” Your boyfriend inched towards you slowly without actually looking at you. It seemed that he just wanted to be in a closer proximity with you yet was hesitant to get too close. “Make you bloated. Hear it slosh around when you move.”

You were kind of mortified, but you were also extremely horny at the same time. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to bloat you nor would he be able to hear his cum inside of you, but it was the thought that counted.

“You wanna fuck?”

Jungkook turned to completely face you, chocolate-brown doe eyes silently pleading for the go-ahead. He bit his bottom lip before pushing it out into a pout as he whined. “Uhuh.”

You laughed as you threw off the blankets and spread your bare legs. Your boyfriend’s shirt came to rest on your waist from the action.

You gestured to your crotch and then curled your fingers towards yourself, smiling.

“Come to momma.”

Jungkook did not hesitate to cover you with his body and kiss you sloppily. The wine was taking its toll on your movements with him, encasing him in your hold lazily.

Somewhere between the messy tongues and teeth, Jungkook had managed to push your panties aside to thumb over your sensitivity. It took everything in you to not scream out- whether it would be a scream in pain or pleasure still had yet to be determined.

Your nub tingled desperately, pleasure-fatigued and vulnerable to the ministrations of Jungkook’s thumb. Finally, though, he had begun dipping his fingers into your core to balance out the bliss.

“Gonna paint you white. Make it drip.” Jungkook mumbled almost incoherently as he spoke with your bottom lip sucked between his plump ones. Your fingers threaded into his blonde locks, tugging when you needed a way to release your sexual frustration from his dirty words.

You hadn’t noticed when he retracted his fingers from your depths, but you definitely felt the sensation of him rubbing his dick into your folds. The smooth surface of his tip contrasted sharply with the roughness of the pad of his thumb. You hadn’t even realized that he had slipped the waistband of his sweatpants down to free his erection.

The sensation was beginning to sober you up just a little.

As he slipped inside you, you keened, angling your hips to receive him. He kept one hand hooked around your panties to keep it to the side and circled the other around your waist to allow himself to lay atop you. All of his body weight crushed you into the couch, but the closeness of him on you was gratifying.

Jungkook dug his face into your neck, moaning softly as your velvet walls parted to caress his cock. He wanted to feel your pussy drag on him and squeeze in an attempt to bring him back inside. He needed to feel how much your body enjoyed him inside of you.

So he kept his movements to a slow minimum, lazily curling his hips to just barely rear back so that he could reenter with an unmotivated rhythm. It was perfect for you because your mind was already warm and fuzzy, unable to keep up with much.

You sighed in relief, feeling his skin rubbing against your clit as he bottomed out time and time again. He separated your walls agonizingly slow, yet it was the perfect rhythm that allowed you to feel each time the head of his dick kissed the end of your cavern.

You moaned softly as the movie played on, begging for attention but receiving none. It was no use ignoring the fact that your orgasm was building with Jungkook’s hips touching your skin. Even at the leisurely pace that he fucked you, the passion was ever present and working you up.

For the next ten minutes, Jungkook kept his tempo gentle and relaxed, uncaring of reaching his climax too soon. You, on the other hand, reached your tipping point as he dug his nails into your waist.

Almost like a dream, your orgasm layered itself onto you softly. You trembled under his weight but held him closer to help accommodate the bliss of your muscles contracting around Jungkook’s deliberate thrusts.

When you heard the tell-tale sign of your boyfriend softly grunting into your skin, you could tell he was beginning to feel his impending orgasm born from your own. It was only moments later that he began leaving sloppy kisses and love bites onto your neck as he shuddered a breath.

Calm and still quite drunk, you still managed to feel his cock pulsing against the restrictive embrace of your depths. You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled delightfully at the sensation of being the one to receive his love and affection. The temptation to to kiss his sweaty temple was too strong to resist once he ceased moving and slumped against you.

The silence was peaceful. Minutes had passed without a word. The afterglow of your sex was strong and loving, warming the two of you like a blanket.

From the way he breathed so evenly, you believed that Jungkook had fallen asleep. It was only when he let out a light chuckle that you looked down and saw him smiling with his cheek smushed against your chest.

“I like drunk sex.” He muttered. “It’s fun.”

You had to agree with him on that one. “I think it’s fun too.”

After a beat, he whined. “But why do I still want moreee?”

“I’m afraid that’s not entirely up to you.” You tipped your head back and laughed, inebriated mind coming up with more silly nicknames. “It seems that Mister PP can’t take any more right now.”

Drunk Jungkook was one you could always get behind. Instead of acting like an idiot, he acted like a kid- not the bratty kind, of course. He was cute and cuddly, a perfect opposite to how he acted sober.

However-

The moment he attempted to retain his erection by pulling it out of you and yelling at it became one of the few moments that he acted like a complete idiot.

“No! He can go again! Isn’t that right, Mister PP?” You watched as his dick gave one last jerk of life before it began softening. You wheezed from laughter as your boyfriend’s eyes widened in horror. “No! You can’t do this to me right now! We were supposed to fuck her full of cum!”

“It’s okay, babe.” You reassured him as you slowly nudged him off of you so that you could go clean yourself. “Just take a break, okay?”

On shaky legs, once again, you stood and headed for the bathroom to clean yourself with a giggle slipping past your lips.

Once you got back to the living room, your eyes immediately zeroed in on Jungkook sitting upright on the couch, tenderly stroking his dick through his sweatpants with a look of defeat on his face. You just sighed and grabbed the remote to turn up the volume of the TV in hopes of distracting him.

He couldn’t help it. He was much too drunk to get himself hard again so soon after sex, so you would wait until he was since he was so determined.

The movie as well as your second bottle of wine were coming to an end when he screamed in success. You jumped out of your skin at the exclamation, placing a hand over your racing heart.

“Yes! He did it! He’s back!” You looked at him in shock when he reached into his waistband to grip himself. His eyes locked with yours as he did so, smirking in the process.

You raised an eyebrow at him expectantly, yet below your cool exterior was the unavoidable truth that was the awakening of the flames of your desire.

“Is this why you called me out today?” You turned your whole body to face him. “So you could fuck me all day?”

“Mhm.” He affirmed, grabbing you and slowly turning you onto your stomach. “That’s exactly why. I just need to be inside you. Like, all the time.”

As you felt him slide your panties down your legs, the tone in his voice changed. The chuckle he let out wasn’t nearly cute and innocent anymore; his demeanor became dark and menacing.

“I called you out so that I could fuck you all day- in every way I could think of.”

A shiver ran up your spine at the sudden shift of mood. Your body, worn out and exhausted, still managed to vibrate in excitement when Jungkook took a handful of your ass and squeezed it harshly. He leaned over your body to whisper in your ear after running a hand under your shirt to tweak a nipple between his fingers.

“You got the lazy vanilla shit first. Now, let’s play.”

~#~

If you’d like to read more of my work, feel free to check out my Masterlist!

[i-arch-my-backula]

Random slasher headcannons

I got this idea from @skylarsblue please read theirs I love it so very much. Anyway enjoy this stupid list of stuff. Also it is way to late for me to be up but hey it’s summer baby. 

Billy Lenz

I know we all love dirty, greasy rat man Billy but what if he sneaks into like the sorority showers and like uses their fancy hair and skin care stuff. How else is his hair so perfectly fluffy

He would love to have painted nails but he could not sit still long enough to let them dry. I feel like he bites his nails too or at least chews on his fingers or stuff. 

Cat dad.

You know those things where like it’s just like “Fucking forg” in like flame letters and a picture of someone holding a frog behind it? Billy would love those. He loves the stupidist like most nonsensical humor ever. Like show him the thing where it says “Ohio burger” and everything on the burger is shaped like Texas and he will be dying for the next 20 minutes.

He will eat anything he can get his hands on. He’s like a baby in that way you know? Like he’ll look at like purfume and spray it in his mouth and just like like how it tastes. Keep him away from the air freshener.

He also has a very high tolerance for spice. He can drink an entire bottle of hot sauce in like 30 minutes max. 

He either has a high tolerance for caffeine or he’ll have a heart attack if he drinks a cup of coffee.

He has echolallia and probably mild autism. no this isn’t because I’m autistic, well maybe

Seems like he’ll like be ok with touch but it’s gonna take some time for him to actually be comfortable with touch

He will eat raw meat and not learn his lesson when he gets sick

Brahms Heelshire

Also a cat dad

Probably likes to knit things. Like he’ll have this big ass blanket he’s been working on for like a super long time. 

His parents forced him into the walls don’t @ me about this you know I’m right. 

He’s sensitive to food textures. Like if an apple has the wrong feel in his mouth he can’t eat it. 

His posture is so bad omfg. We’d be back pain buddies. He’d have an extra like two inches if he wasn’t hunched over all the time. 

He would love worm on a string. Like buy him one and he’ll play with it all the time.

He probably always wanted one of those porcelain faced dolls but he was too afraid to ask his parents.

He loves art history. Like he wants to collect paintings and he studies artists all the god damn time.

He likes to bake but he can’t do it on his own. He tried and it was a disaster.

Thomas Hewitt

I agree he is a metal head but he listens to Dolly Parten too. He’s a sweet country boy what do you expect.

Lowkey would love to have his nails painted black.

He’d be so confused if he got a hug. Like I mean the man’s never had one before.

He loves the smell of flowers. He’s around blood and meat so much he loves to just reset with a good floral scent. So can someone get this man some flowers?

If he was born into a different family he wouldn’t kill people. I just feel like that’s the case.

He’d love to have a big dog because I say so and I want a big dog.

He started to collect bones as a kid because he was just like really interested in.

I feel like he’d be good at taxidermy. Like if he got the proper tool and stuff he’d be good at it.

I don’t think he’s as dumb as the movie says he is. Like he hid in the car to get that girl, that was pretty smart.

Lester Sinclair

He collected bones as a kid. Probably always wanted to do something with preserving the dead. Definitely has some taxidermy he made in his house.

Out of all the brothers he is the most domestic. He’s good at cleaning and cooking and has to help Bo and Vincent clean up their house once a month.

I feel like Jonesy was a stray dog before Lester adopted her. He probably found her eating some road kill and was just like “I guess you’re my dog now.”

He’s a bit dense so it’ll take him a bit to realize you’re into him. But if you laugh at one of his stupid jokes he’ll really start to pick up on your flirting.

He makes bone jewelry. Like Texas chainsaw massacre style. He wears it when he’s not working and probably made some for his brothers.

I wrote about this before but there’s a lake he’ll visit when he wants to. Probably bring Jonesy and if he had an s/o or someone he’s interested in he’ll bring them there.

Poison ivy does nothing to this man. He’ll still get the rash and like the bumps but it’s not itchy. He has a high pain tolerance and like can get hit my a car and walk away ok. That’s a bit of an overstatement but it makes my point.

He’s polyamorous because I’m poly and I say so. So are Bo and Vincent fuck you

I got this idea from someone who’s @ I can’t remember but they talked about how Lester made the handle for his knife and Vincent’s and I totally agree. This man has a hobby and it’s making knife handles.

I feel like he would have seen a stray cat, left out food for it but a raccoon ate it instead and he just said “fuck it” and now he’s feeding a raccoon.

Loves to like hug and cuddle shit. His love language is physical touch and he will always let people know that. If no one is around and he needs to cuddle something he’ll chose Jonesy or a pillow, litterly anything he can get. 

Vincent Sinclair

He loves tea. Do I have a basis for this claim? No he just give me tea drinker vibes. 

I feel like he would have some sort of guilt for not helping Bo as a kid or something like that. Like he felt like he was the favored twin/ child. He would also feel bad for Lester cause I feel like he was sort of forgotten by their parents and Vincent and Bo kinda had to parent him.

He would love to watch ballet. Like he loves the costumes and the dances and would probably adore drawing/sculpting something so graceful. 

If his hands weren’t always covered in wax he’d paint his nails black. I just feel like he would like the way it looks. 

He probably learned a lot about medicine from his dad and takes care of his brothers when they get sick or they need help. I saw how he tried to go back and take that arrow out. 

His mask is a comfort item of sorts. Like he rarely takes it off and if he does it’s usually when he’s alone. 

He would love to put his hair up but Bo won’t let him have hair ties because of how they remind him of the straps on his chair in a way. We know he kinda takes his trauma out on his victims but seeing that happen to his brother is too much. Same goes for his partner. 

If he’s in the mood he’ll listen to metal music. He’s kinda a metal head but not super hard core into it. 

He has to do some kind of like work out to keep his body as giant and beautiful as it is. I feel like he’ll go in the woods and work out there and stuff. Probably gets some meat from Lester too if he runs out. 

Would be good at origami. Like he’s good with his hands and would be great with making things.

His knives were a gift from Lester when they first started remaking Ambrose together. 

Bo Sinclair

The man doesn’t have anger issues he’s just a bitch. 

He’s a himbo and I love him for that.

If anyone tried to mess with his brothers growing up he would beat them fuck up. Talk shit about his family? Boom you’re getting decked by him. Don’t say shit about his family. 

He’s pan because I want him to love me and he’s got that kinda vibe. Also I want him to love me. 

He thinks who vape are pussies. “Just smoke a god damn cigarette like a normal person.” 

He got into cars as an escape of some kind in his childhood. Like I just feel like it. 

He has a skincare routine that if anyone found out about he’d kill them. 

He can sing like one of those dudes from the 50′s. He does it by himself but he like can. 

He’s a liquor man not a beer man. Well like he prefers liquor. 

Bubba Sawyer 

HE IS GENDERFLUID END OF DISCUSSION

He has a few dresses he wears when he’s alone and makeup he puts on some of his masks. 

He’s closest to Nubbins. He’s the nicest brother to him and he hugs him often.

 He likes soft calming music. Something to sooth him after all the screaming and abuse he gets on a daily basis

Loves to bake when he can. He likes feeling domestic and stuff. 

Never went to a formal school and his brothers had to constantly stand up for him and make sure he was ok. 

He has an emotional support chicken he keeps at the house. 

Probably good at taxidermy but doesn’t do it like correctly. Like he doesn’t use the right stand he just stuffs with with stuffing basically making it a glorified stuffed animal.

Michael Myers

He finds scaring people so fucking funny. Like you know he was laughing with that ghost shit.

He really likes sweet shit. He’s scare a kid just to steal their halloween candy.

My explanation for how the og Michael is a tank while he’s looks like an average 5’11 dude is that he was kind of experimented on while at Smithsgrove.

He has a high tolerance for alcohol. Like drinking a third of a bottle of vodka would get him tipsy.

RZ Michael Myers started to make masks as a coping mechanism and it just evolved from there.

His hand writing is like really sharp. Like someone trying to be edgy is his handwriting.

He can’t grow facial hair. He was in that asylum for what 15 years and nothing. He couldn’t shave while he was there so he just can’t grow any.

Can eat raw meat and be fine. The man would do it on purpose to like bulk up.

He has low iron levels and that’s why he doesn’t run.

The reason the og targeted mostly teenage girls was because his first kill was his teenage sister so it’s kinda like that.

Og likes classical music RZ likes metal music.

[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

Eclipse: I hate Moon. Sun: "Hate' is a strong word. Eclipse: I have strong opinions.

Lunar: Welcome to my very first vlog, in which I try different hair products! Lunar: *sprays hairspray in their mouth* Lunar: Well, right off the bat I can tell you this one is not very good.

Sun: Enough! How dare you mock me in such a manner!? Lunar: Well. How would you like me to mock you? I take requests.

Sun, near tears: Please, Eclipse, I don’t speak meme! I don't know what a 'yeet' is!

Sun: The stars are so beautiful... Moon: They're just giant balls of gas. Sun: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then- Moon: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you. Sun: Oh...

(platonic dw)

Eclipse, dramatically: They called me a fool. Moon, sick of Eclipse's shit: They weren’t wrong.

Moon: Love makes people do stupid things. Lunar: I love everything! Moon: That explains a lot.

Lunar: Eclipse is playing hard to get. Lunar: Little do they know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

(platonic)

Sun, explaining why they are not allowed to cook: I put the noodles in the pot and put the pot on the stove and turned the burner on high. Turns out you don't put noodles in marijuana and I almost burnt the whole house down.

Moon: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake. Sun: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear. Moon: ... Moon: You mean ring bearER, right? Sun: ... Moon: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to the wedding.

*Moon and Sun enter a dive bar* Moon: Look, I know you’re disappointed but could we at least have a drink. Sun, in a scuba diving suit: I would like leave, please.

Lunar: My gender is in a constant state of flux.

Lunar: *is visibly upset* Sun: Lunar, what happened? I haven't seen you like this since you found out candyland wasn't an actual country.

*While planning to break in somewhere* Moon: Hey, let's do "Get Help!" Sun: What? Moon: "Get Help." Sun: No. Moon: C'mon, you love it! Sun: I hate it. Moon: It's great! It works every time! Sun: It's humiliating. Moon: Do you have a better plan? Sun: No. Moon: We're doing it! Sun: We are not doing "Get Help!" *A Minute Later* Moon, carrying Sun: Get help! Please! They're dying! Help Them! *throws Sun at guards, knocking them out* Moon: Ahh, classic! Sun: *gets up* I still hate it. It's humiliating. Moon, laughing: Not for me, it's not.

Eclipse: So we're gathered here today for a very special reason and I think you'll all agree with me here. Eclipse: And if you don't well then fuck you. Eclipse: I'm looking at you, Moon, you jealous mop.

Eclipse: *on the phone* Just snap his kneecaps and he’ll talk, I’m at a parent teacher conference. Eclipse: Anyways, you said Lunar is enjoying finger painting! That's great.

Sun: Sometimes I drink milk straight from the container. Lunar: The cow?? Sun: What? Eclipse: Lunar, W H Y?

Eclipse: You think you're smarter than everyone else. Moon: I don't think I'm smarter than everyone else. I know I am.

Moon: I could kill you if I wanted. Lunar: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.

Eclipse: Did you buy eggs like I asked? Lunar: Even better! Eclipse: What the fuck did you- Lunar: *holding up a chicken* Her name is Fluffy.

Moon: Guess what number I’m thinking of. Lunar: 420? Moon: No, that’s really immature of you. Someone else guess, and please take this seriously. Sun: 69. Moon: Yeah it was 69.

[pigeonflavouredcake]

I'm an adult now take my advice

(or don't i'm not your dad)

Idk how old my followers are overall but i want to make this post in case any of you are actually teens... I am Officially 20 now. I am no longer a teenager so here are some things I learned as a poor teenager that helped me as a poor adult. Some are witchy, some are just about life, most are food related. Buckle up this will get pretty long.

Write as much down as you can bc puberty can really fuck with your memory.

Staying up late because you simply can't sleep is not something to be worried about unless you want to change that. It's pretty much all your natural body clock.

Get a big folder. Like a massive accordion folder and put all your personal documents in, birth/adoption certificates, bank statements, prescription receipts, diplomas, etc. So if you're ever in a dangerous situation at home you can make your escape a lot easier.

Now is a good time to learn new things that aren't school related. Practice cooking your favourite meals, learn how to properly clean a bathroom, if cleaning is overwhelming there are methods online that can help with that. Like playing a spot the difference game.

NO, tarot is not a closed practice, tarot is a tool for everyone and NO, tarot decks do not have to be gifted to you, you can buy one for yourself. I don't even know where that came from but it's complete bs.

Save the little gift baggies you get when you buy jewellery and use them as spell bags.

Stay away from any woman who calls her vag a yoni. it's weird.

You may want to be seen as smart and mature because it's better than being treated like a kid but you are still a kid. Your safety matters more than how mature and responsible you are. An older person should NOT be talking to you in a romantic/flirtatious setting and if they say it's because you're mature for your age or they can't wait until you're legal fucking bully the living shit out of them then block them and warn your friends. that attitude is creepy as hell bc they want someone they have power over. Same with any friends that brag about their partner being 15/16/17 when they're 18. BULLY THEM THEY'RE GROSS AND THEY DESERVE IT.

If you're in a country with the NHS USE IT NOW WHILE IT'S FREE. The first 6-8 weeks of therapy is free from the NHS. Eye tests and dentist check ups and medication are free untill you're 19 GET THEM NOW.

You can make your own oat milk by blending up oats and water. You don't need to cook with oil, there's enough of it in processed food and fresh veg have enough water in them to cook straight in a pan. You don't need the seasoning packet in ramen you can make your own. Tamari sauce has less sodium than soy sauce. Food always tastes better when it's in season. Try to find space for two food wastes, one for processed/cooked food one for raw. The raw food can be composted and given back to the earth

Best healthiest dinner option I can think of is steamed veggies. Here's my recipe: Heat up a pan on high, pour a bit of water in and then your veggies, stir frequently until all the water is gone. Turn heat down to low. Coat with something like balsamic vinegar and add any seasoning you like. Cover and steam for 10 minutes ish and you're good. You can serve that with a grain or some noodles.

Locally sourced meat and fish is WAY better for the environment than supermarket because there's less preservatives and they're more resourceful with their products.

A standard pie dough is one of the easiest things you can make and the trick is in the amount. Half the flour equals the fat, half the fat equals the sugar. so if you have 200g of flour you need 100g of fat and 50g of sugar. Just throw them in a bowl and mix together and add some cold water to bind together into a dough. It should be solid and little sticky, if it's crumbling add more water, if it's not holding it's shape add more flour. then just fridge it for a few hours to set and you're good.

You made your own soup/stew/pot thingy and you got left overs for the next day? Put it back on the cooker and bring to the boil on high, once it's bubbling take the heat down to low and simmer for 10 minutes (keep stirring if it keeps bubbling). This will help kill any bacteria that developed overnight that might make you sick.

Foraging is good but wear gloves, don't take all from one place and don't eat anything you pick until it's been thoroughly washed. Don't be afraid to go hog wild on things like blackberries, dandelions, or nettles. those things are an invasive species.

Deer are bigger than you think they are.

Air drying takes longer but it will help your clothes last. You can also hand wash with a bowl of hot water and about a teaspoon of washing up powder. Air drying also goes for your hair too.

Stock up on your favourite scented candles any size is ok and use them for spells and rituals.

You got a ghost in your house? Leave them be they're usually just passing through.

If you can't focus on work without music but it needs to be specifically wordless and needs to be easy to fill your brain so you don't focus on every noise other people make listen to animal crossing music that shit got me through two years worth of academic reading.

Bus is late or can't find your keys? Stop looking and start complaining. They'll turn up as soon as you give up.

Piercings are a medical procedure and are safer when they're done with a needle because they're hollow, so they're carving out the skin and cartilage instead of just pushing jewellery through like a gun does. Go to a tattoo parlour that also does piercings bc they're likely to be a lot stricter with rules and customer care.

Life is gonna kick us all in the but so we gotta be there to help eachother out however we can. It definitely feels like it's everyone for themselves but it doesn't have to be.

[sitaarein]

Desi rep

okay so this is partly inspired because of a whole bunch of incredibly, incredibly dumb asks my friend has gotten but it is ALSO, more importantly, because I am sick of the shit I have seen so here, have a not very concise post about what to do and what to avoid if you are writing desi rep (this can also be applied outside of writing I guess??)

If you give a character an Indian name and call it a day, I will actually come and murder you. For starters, India has a whole CULTURE that you have very much decided to ignore and that. is. not. okay. If you can give your white characters all the attention and details and research in the world, you can do the same for your desi characters. Secondly, the word “desi” is used to describe so much more than simply Indian. Wanna know which countries qualify as desi? India, Nepal, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Bhutan, Sri Lanka, and the Maldives. Don’t you even dare assume desi=indian and leave it at that.    

This point ties into what I just said about desi people. Please, I am actually begging you, include more than Indian characters if you want to include south asia in your writing. I am Pakistani and I am so so sick of my identity being erased wherever I look. NOT that I have anything against India or Indians. It is simply the ignorance of people assuming the whole of South Asia is simply India that is supremely horrible to see

 This is based off of personal experience. People actually think that either a) India isn’t a part of Asia or b) there are no countries in South Asia aside from India or c) both of those incredibly ignorant views. And all I can say is: what. the. fuck. Do not do that. Indians are Asians. Pakistanis are Asians. Nepalis are Asians. Bengalis are Asians. Bhutanese are Asians. Sri Lankans are Asians. Maldivians are Asians. If you do not think so, then that is actually just racist of you. Don’t talk to me until you’ve looked at a map.

Another personal point that just.. hurts. Do you know what the Muslim population of the Indian subcontinent is? (The Indian subcontinent is made up of all the countries mentioned above) The answer is: around 600 million. Out of 1.7 billion people, 600 million of them are Muslims. Put into perspective, its not a lot. But the Muslims have a whole separate identity. A separate culture. The whole reason Pakistan even came into existence is because the Muslims of the subcontinent were so fundamentally different. So if you have a desi based country or continent, please, please take a moment to think about the different cultures. 

The above point, but apply it to Sikhs and Brahmins and the numerous identities I do not even know of. They’re all unique. Look them up. Don’t just call a stereotyped culture “Indian” and leave it there.

Speaking of culture: Just. Do your bloody research. Each of the countries in the Indian subcontinent have different national languages, and then INSIDE the country there are multiple dialects based on areas and tribes. Going to take Pakistan as an example: Our national language is Urdu, but the language most commonly spoken by far is Punjabi. So the average Pakistani you meet is almost definitely bilingual, and if they have had an english education, they are almost definitely trilingual. Same goes for all the other countries, I’m sure

Speaking of culture, part 2: there is literally too much to talk about for me to cover it all in one post, so I’m just gonna say: all desi countries are very different to each other, and inside the countries the various provinces are incredibly different. In addition to the changes in language, you’ll also get different staple dishes (even though most the food of the Indian subcontinent are the same in every country, you get some kind of twist that is always uniquely of that country or region or province’s), different folk tales, different poetry and literature, different icons and heroes- the list goes on. So, once more: Do your research.   

I mentioned food briefly in the point above which reminded me of something else: I resent the fact that food that is pretty much native to the whole subcontinent is simply called... Indian. Once again, this is absolutely NOT out of hate for India, it is because that is such a generalization.  Its because by calling it Indian you are effectively dismissing 5 other countries who eat and cook the same food because it belongs to them just as much as it does to the Indians. If you want a general name, call it desi food. 

this point is... less serious than the others, its just something I find fun and could use more of in media. Desi people are obsessed with sports. Like, obsessed. Some of us pretty much breathe cricket. I just think its an interesting fact and pretty much a part of culture at this point, so I’d like to see the stereotypical desi uncle who wouldn’t miss a match for the life of him every once in a while

Back to seriousness. If you even bloody imply that your desi character is violent, I will duct tape you to a chair and make you watch dramatic pakistani dramas on repeat (it won’t be fun, trust me). I have had it with South Asia being portrayed as a terrorist hub. Do not even think of conforming to such a stereotype. I will literally hunt you down and make sure you never, ever even think of doing so ever again. 

Also: If you bloody dare imply that we are, in any way, backward, I will once more carry out the above punishments. Stop. Just stop.

Oh man, talk about the history of the Indian subcontinent. Talk about the heritage. Have you like... seen the architecture????? There’s more than just the Taj Mahal here my dudes. Forget all the “dangerous countries” bullshit. Focus on the brilliance of, well, everything, instead. 

Oh oh speaking of: Have you guys heard of mohenjo daro?? Look it up. There’s some fantasy/mystery potential there. Use it for whatever, it would make my day

Time to talk about geography. So first off: Mountains. So many amazing mountains. Both Everest and K-2 (the tallest and second tallest) are located here. The Himalayas are located here. Pretty amazing, eh? Second off: Deserts. Do you know how many mineral riches are hidden in those? Its amazing. Third off: Rivers. Oh man the rivers. Did you know the Indus river is full of blind dolphins native to the Indus river only? Did you know they’re very very endangered? Find some funds for them while you’re looking up info about them, btw. Also another sea animal native to South Asia which has pretty much been driven out of Pakistan and Myanmar: the gharial. look them up too, seriously. That would be great. Fourth off: The plains. Do you have any idea how fertile our soil is? Because. Its insane. And there’s so much more about the geography and topography of the Indian subcontinent, guys. Look it all up. I’m so sick of vague desert land descriptions for the Indian subcontinent.

Religion. Now this overlaps with culture a lot, since quite a few people choose to define their religion as their culture, but we’re still touching upon it. This is pretty vague, but there are definitely at least over seven. Each comes with its entirely unique practices. Do not even try having a desi character who is Sikh but knows nothing about Sikhism, or Muslim but knows nothing about Islam, because even if they aren’t practicing, they grow up learning about whatever religion their family practices, most of the time. 

If you’re desi, feel free to add on whatever you think is relevant here. If you’re not, shut the fuck up. This is not about you, and it will never be. Feel free to reblog, but kindly keep your comments or opinions to yourself if they are not in agreement with all the above points or promises to be less ignorant.

My inbox is open if you have any questions. Desi people let me know if I said something wrong or offensive and I promise I’ll do my best to correct it

[tu-sugar-mami]

You love cooking, it's been one of your passions since you can remember, but you're a very special case. You have a preference for weird, extremely spicy and sour food. In your parents house you were never allowed in the kitchen for this reason, but that never stopped you from sneaking in the middle of the night to cook new creations.

Your parents thought that if you were adamant in wielding a knife and ladle at least you should learn properly, and so they sent you to a chef school across the country, where you grasped the basics and dropped out because you felt like you weren't learning. And you sure liked it better experimenting with your own rules that to read the same old boring recipes from a book.

Once you were old enough to live for yourself you decided to pursue your passion and travel around the world, searching for exotic dishes and spices that could inspire your unique creations. That's how you found yourself in Romania, where talking to locals and tourists alike you got word of a mysterious lady who lived at the top of the hill in the outskirts of the village, who was the owner of a very peculiar (and expensive) brand of wine that was very popular among certain type of people. That piqued your interest, and you didn't think it twice before renting a bike and ride to the place.

Many things happened that day. You ran for your life, you found out what the wine actually was, and you found something more important that your love for food: the love of your life.

Alcina Dimitrescu and her three daughters became your new family, your own family, and you couldn't imagine living a life without them in it. And something that made you love them even more was that their taste buds were as fucked up as yours and nothing makes you happier, though they are not really fond of spicy food like you.

And now you are the chef in the family, with an entire gigantic kitchen at your service and three hungry and very curious step daughters peeking from the door.

"What are we eating today? Can we have the pickle soup again?" Cassandra asks you while handing you a bowl you couldn't reach.

"Oh, it's a surprise! I think it will be better than the soup, but you'll have to wait to find out." You say, but you definitely have no idea what you're doing and are instead 'letting the ingredients guide you'. You need the bowl to pour an awfully thick batter with a sick green color, to which then you proceed to add two eggs and start mixing.

"Let us help, it'll be easier." Bela takes the bowl and whisk from your hands and starts mixing with her inhuman strength making the batter rise in a second. You don't know for sure but you're positive that the batter can be baked.

"What's this?" Daniela, who was helping gather all the dirty dishes, stumbles upon a small container resting innocently on the countertop. Your eyes widen, but it's too late to stop her.

"Dani no!" It's the only warning she gets before dipping her finger into the paste and licking it.

"What? I was just– oh..." The realization dawning on her.

"That's wasabi!"

One of the first things you learned after a few days of staying with the Dimitrescus all those years ago was that they all were extremely sensitive to spicy stuff. Hot sauce was a nono, habanero was out of the question, and let's say that you never dared to use jalapeño again after what happened the last time Alcina tasted it.

It doesn't take long before Daniela is running and yelling around the kitchen, like a trapped pigeon, drinking every liquid she can find in hopes of calming the fire inside her mouth. Bela hands her some ice. Cassandra just watch with an amused grin. You can't do much else than hand her a pitcher of cold water, which she downs in less than a minute, but sadly for her, it doesn't do much.

"Drink milk! That has to help!"

"I can't! I'm lactose intolerant!"

Downstairs Alcina is calmly reading a book, sipping her cup of tea, purposely ignoring the muffled yelling and the sounds of pans clashing coming from the kitchen. She makes a mental note to buy dairy-free milk next time.

--------

If you love my work, buy me a coffee?

[thestalkerbunny]

TSB Plays Legends Arceus Part 31

Yep peace at last, you can pat me on the shoulder send me of and we go to BENI’S. I’ve been talking to him about Benihana and how he should do some SICK tricks while cooking to spice shit up.

Good to see it end. Good Ridden, God speed to peace. NOW TO BENI’S FOR NICKEL SHOT NIGHT. For 20 Poke I can get THIS MANY

Yeah plot twist, your weird sense of xenophobia could have been your down fall.

FUCK YEAH, we’re gonna go SLEEP IN BABY!

Yeah that’s not gonna FULLY happen but something close to it does occur.

Yeah YEAH....Survey’......gimme more of them Pita chips, you rival looking fucker.

REI WHY DO YOU LOOK MORE CONCERNED THAN I DO , THAT’S A REAL GENUINE CONCERN AND FEAR HERE.

I-

OOp.

.....Aurora Boralis.

During the Day time.

in THIS PART OF THE COUNTRY?

You’re telling me, I’ve never seen the Northern Lights so far EAST before.

What, we’ve got a leak? Well it’s bound to have happened that shit has been open for nearly HALF A YEAR, My guy. We’ll just get caulk and plug it up a little, it’ll be FINE.

UhOH. I’m being called to the Princepal’s office again.

I don’t like the sound of that Hrmmm.

Red in some countries is a lucky color, Commander Kamado. Maybe it’s a GOOD sign?

Yeah and also WHY am I here, I am sleeping off those Pita chips from last night.

Yeah it was.

.......I don’t like what you’re implying, Moustache.

Hey. HEY. I don’t like this. Causation is not directly linked to Corrolation sometimes. Sometimes shit just happens and other shit occurs just happens to be weird luck. Like the yearly flooding of the nile and the 10 Plagues of Egypt.

.....I am Stalky, I am 25 years old shoved into a 15 year old body, I just finished collage for a graphic design degree and was enjoying my time off, I am a 9 time Pokemon Championship level Master and a 4 time winner of the Pokemon Master Contest Champions. I make a mean fried rice, I have shitty stamina cause I can’t run up stairs, I like naps and Pita chips and ego filled men who I could BREAK in a heart beat with my sheer power.  THAT. is who I am, Sir.

Yep. Full Wikipedia page right there for ya. I’m also an excellent conversationalist at times and I love poking dead stuff with a stick.

No not technically. That’s like saying I caused the blizzards in the North because I CAME from there. Or I caused the rains in AFRICA because I came from there.

Uh. Nothing? I didn’t want to do this in the first place? You LASSO’D ME into this.

Sir I suggest you stop yelling at me, I will BREAK DOWN and CRY in front of these people and be inconsolable for several HOURS because they’ll all try to touch me and make it better when in actuality it’ll just make it WORSE. And It’ll be YOUR fault.

IF anything, I’ve been helping these two KEEP THEIR JOB (specifically you Irida.)

YEAH. BECAUSE WHY WOULD I ENDANGER MYSELF IN ALL THIS IF I WANTED THEM TO GO CRAZY?

Again, with the YELLING, Kamado. Are you gonna break out the conspiracy board too? You gonna blame me for every WORLD CATALYST that has ever occurred? God this shit didn’t happen in Galar, I wanna go back to GALAR.

[colorsunimaginable]

the spare // chapter twenty-seven // deatheater!tomhiddleston x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary: While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord’s triumph, she’s being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy’s younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance’s greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 5.5k warnings for this chapter: illness, syringe use

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Twenty-Seven:

England decides to have a fucking heat wave for the first time all summer. It starts that night and I wake to sweaty pits and my legs torturously twisted in the sheets. The cold shower I take around four am doesn’t help once I’m out of it. I throw the windows open in every room I can, but there’s just no goddamn breeze to be had.

If there’s one thing to know about me, it’s that I can’t stand being hot. I really hate sweating. There’s only so many layers of clothing I can take off until I’m naked and wanna rip my skin off. It’s the thicc bitch curse. Fuck this country for not having air conditioning.

Thomus leaves around sunrise, which invites me to exit my room dressed in the shortest shorts I could find. From the way he booked it out the door, I can only assume he’d been summoned. I stand in front of the open refrigerator, trying to decide what to do today while the chill blasts my body.

I wish there was more for me to do besides just sit around. Last night reignited my anger and contempt for all of this bullshit that’s happening. It shouldn’t be like this. This shouldn’t be how the world works now. Who in their right mind would see a child in a position like that and just be okay with it? I don’t even want to think about the sick fucks who actually participated.

I’m just itching to get my hands on a newspaper. Something to give me any sort of clue as to what Voldemort and his followers are up to. Yes, Thomus is chasing George, but what else is happening out there? I’ve only been able to infer that I’d had some sort of influence over the raid on the safehouse, but I have no idea what actually happened. It’s extremely frustrating.

As awful as it had been at the time, I’m almost wishing to go to another Death Eater meeting. I’d even suffer being around Bellatrix. Just something to get some kind of information to pass along to Sam.

Sam. My heart sinks at the thought. I haven’t seen him since that night. Until I hear or see otherwise, I’m going to continue believing that he’s just busy. We’re fighting a war. No need to keep tabs on a girl who’s being held captive by the enemy. Especially when nothing around here changes.

Eventually I decide to spend my morning looking through Mary’s cookbooks. Since I have all of this food now, I might as well use it.

Thomus hasn’t commented on the lack of food from the elves at mealtimes. I’d just been eating simple things like sandwiches, cut up veggies and fruit. Nothing that I’ve actually cooked, like with the stove or oven. It makes me wonder if Thomus would even eat anything I made.

When I was on the run with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, we couldn’t really be picky about what we ate. As someone who wasn’t on the Ministry’s Most Wanted List, it was easier for me to make trips to grocery stores, but eventually the muggle money and few galleons I’d had with me ran out. We didn’t necessarily go hungry; there was plenty of fish and things to forage, but it hadn’t been easy.

It had been painful to suddenly notice one day all three of them looked thinner, especially Ron, as he needed more nutrients than the rest of us to heal properly from his splinching. I, on the other hand, looked exactly the same as I did the day I Portkeyed across the Atlantic. My body was built to survive famines, apparently.

I had decided after that new observation it had to be worth the risk to go to Gringotts. Their health was worth the risk. I had needed more of my gold I’d saved up from my time working at The Daily Prophet, and I wanted to deposit my valuables. I knew things could change at the flip of a wand and there were some things I just didn’t want to risk losing.

Considering where I am now, with nothing of my own from before except my glasses, I’d made the right decision. Ugh, those couple weeks without my glasses had been hell. I wonder why Thomus had kept them after we escaped the Manor?

I had no idea that the next time I’d be visiting Gringotts would be to rob it. Because I could cast the best Disillusionment charm, my role was to remain outside, prepped with a Portkey, for us all to escape back to Shell Cottage. Suffice to say, I did not expect to see a dragon burst through the glass dome of the bank with them all astride it.

Mary’s stash of recipe books she had kept propped on her kitchen counter weren’t the worst thing in the world. There’s one about classic English dishes, a French one, and even one about classic American dishes. Which is surprising when I think about the food I’ve eaten here in England. It’s all been fine, but could’ve used a little bit of seasoning.

I have a real hankering for chicken and biscuits. I should have everything, but my No-Maj can of biscuit dough. I sigh longingly. Why are witches and wizards so behind on the best technology?

~*~

By late afternoon, the hottest point in the fucking day, I’m standing over a hot ass pot. The smell of onion and garlic fill the room, making the humid air somehow bearable. The rest of the veggies are chopped and waiting. The chicken’s already in, the sizzling popping against the Dean Martin vinyl playing on the table. 

When I’m almost elbow deep in wet lumpy flour, Thomus’s voice from behind me makes me jump. “What’s that god-awful smell?”

I turn around, holding my hands up and away from me. He’s leaning against the door frame, his dark hair wet, clearly fresh from a shower. His Death Eater garb looks fresh as well, no wrinkles or scuffs on his shirt and boots. God, I wanna climb him like a tree when he looks ready for a duel.

I try to ignore the way his eyes immediately drop as well, no doubt taking in the ridiculous outfit I have on. In addition to the high waisted shortest shorts I could find, I also have on a crop top. Thank god I’d been possessed enough to put on a bra, otherwise he’d be getting a real tit show right about now, since my arms are raised.

“Chicken and biscuits,” I say flatly, turning back around. I immediately regret the action, because I had forgotten the shorts are riding up between my ass cheeks. I shove my hands back into the dough anyway, ignoring the blush blooming on my face. I’d fix it, but then I’d have wet sticky dough on my ass and it would draw even more attention to it. I settle for using my forearms to pick up the bowl and turn to put it on the island, facing him now. He shrugs away from the doorframe, crossing the distance to peer into the steaming pot.

He wrinkles his nose. “Biscuits? Like with jam?”

“Um, no,” I say slowly. My dough needs more flour. “It’s a savory dish. It’s not sweet.”

I feel him move behind me, probably inspecting the American cookbook I have propped open to homemade biscuits.  

“Can you pour a half cup of flour into my bowl?” I ask. “My hands are messy.” He doesn’t move immediately, so I twist to look at him expectantly. “Please?” I point to said cup and the open jar of flour. He rolls his eyes, but does as I ask.

“Thank you,” I say as he dumps the flour in the bowl. “It should be ready in about an hour.”

“I’m leaving just now,” he says, walking back to the door. “I won’t be back for a few days.”

My eyes drop to the bowl. “Oh.”

“Besides,” he says as he raises a disapproving eyebrow. “I don’t have a particular inclination towards Muggle dishes.”

I mirror his expression. “You buy a No-Maj born to cook for you and you think she’s going to know anything other than No-Maj food?”

He opens his mouth to retort and then quickly shuts it, grimacing. “I never intended for you to cook for me. You needn’t worry about it.”

“It’s just something for me to do,” I shrug. “I don’t mind. I missed cooking.”

“Cook for yourself, then,” he dismisses quickly, eyeing the time on the wall clock. I huff, as if I’m not already doing just that. He fixes his eyes on me again, my hands in the dough still. “Behave.”

I roll my eyes, shifting my weight onto one hip. “Yeah, sure. You say that like I’m going to get into so much trouble here.”

“You have real rotten luck so I wouldn’t put it past you,” he says, then he’s walking out the door.

~*~

Jokes on him, my chicken and biscuits turned out fan-fucking-tastic. I don’t think it’s all that crazy of a dish in the first place. They eat sheep stomach and blood sausage here for Pete’s sake. I made enough that it became my main meal for about three days.

Despite the heat, I keep myself busy in the kitchen, music constantly blasting. I learn that if I keep the back door open, a breeze would drift in occasionally. It made the house bearable enough to exist in, though I have half a mind to make my own AC with some blocks of ice and a fan.

I bake at night so the heat from the oven doesn’t kill me during the day. I made two pies, bread, and about three dozen cookies. It’s a lot for one person, I know. I guess a part of me still hopes that Sam will show up, despite how long it’s been. Maybe I could leave this by the creek for him? No, it’d probably rot in a day with this heat.

While trying to open an untouched set of cookie cutters, I jam the sharp tip of a knife under the zip tie that holds the cutter to the flimsy cardboard, but I shove too hard and the blade slips. The tip slips right to the side of my thumb and I thought I’d split it open. That’s how it felt anyway, but when I look at my thumb, it’s just fine. I try touching the blade again and it wobbles.

I sigh. Looks like whoever gave me these had thought of everything. I can’t even use these to defend myself if I need to. I ponder the idea of hacking at a stick to make a spear. Not a bad idea. It’d be something at least.

~*~

Day four rolls around and I’m about to finish up the stack of dishes I’d left for myself from the night before. From up in Thomus’s room, I hear a couple thuds and thumps, as if someone’s just Apparated in.

I immediately stop the water and dry my hands, my heart pounding in my chest. Because I hadn’t actually decided to make a spear, I have to grab one of the iron skillets. Quickly I head for the stairs and slowly creep up them, trying to avoid noise. As I get closer to the landing, I hear muffled voices coming from inside. One is definitely Thomus, but another is high-pitched and the last is one I can’t place. My hand hovers over the doorknob, the skillet raised above my head.

The door opens before I even touch it and I’m face to face with Lucius Malfoy. His stern face barely holds any surprise at seeing me, as if he expected me to be just beyond the door. I quickly drop the skillet and hide it behind my back, my eyes trying to peer around him. Lucius follows my gaze and steps back enough for me to see Thomus turning onto his bed, an elf propping his right leg onto some pillows. My eyes widen with shock and worry floods my chest.

“Go away, Alder,” Thomus hisses as the elf unwraps a green-stained bandage on his ankle. Even from this distance I can see a sheen of sweat on his face.

“Nonsense,” says Lucius. “Miss Alder - a word.”

Before Thomus can protest further, Lucius backs me out onto the landing, closes the door, and descends into the living room below. I follow him, my eyes wary.

“What happened to him?” I ask. “Will he be okay?”

Lucius doesn’t answer me immediately. Instead, his eyes rake in the room, hands clasped in front of him as if he were afraid to touch anything. Then his focus centers on me and I regret my fourth outfit in a row of short shorts and crop top.

“Thomus has injured himself – “

“Doing what?”

His grey eyes glare at me. “Do not interrupt me again.” He takes another insufferable moment before continuing. “He was unwittingly bitten by a doxy and, as I’m sure you know, their bite is venomous. He will heal, however since the bite went untreated for a number of days, it will not be an easy recovery.”

“Okay,” I say slowly during his pause.

“And for some incomprehensible reason he wishes to convalesce here of all places.” His eyes close and he gives a slight disbelieving shake to his head.

“His… home?” I pointedly ask.

Lucius snickers condescendingly. “This is not his home.”

“It’s not mine either,” I say, my tone dry.

“Regardless,” he continues, refusing to hide his utter distain for me in his expression. His eyes lock with the landing behind me, presumably at Thomus’s door. “I believe his insistence that he remain here has something to do with his proximity to you.”

My eyebrows stitch together. “Me?” It’s my turn to be disbelieving now.

“If you know what’s good for you, Miss Alder, you will do nothing to interfere in his recovery.”

“I –“ I start, but he raises his hand and interrupts me.

“This is the only warning I will give you.” He takes a step closer, his cold grey gaze intense. “If any harm befalls my brother under this roof, I will take great pleasure in placing the blame on you.” He takes another step closer and I have to tilt my head up to maintain eye contact. Lucius’s smile is strangely threatening. “Do we have an understanding?”

I take a calming deep breath out of my nose. “Yes.”

“Splendid,” he says acidly, moving past me to return to Thomus’s room and I follow.

“For the last time, Remmy, I’m not spending two bloody weeks in bed!” Thomus nearly shouts. I pause at the doorway, cautious about his mood. The house elf, Remmy, is propping him up on pillows against his headboard.

“Stop whining, Thomus,” Lucius scolds him. “You are no good to the Dark Lord if you cannot stand upright. You have pleased him with your most recent success. He will not require your services any time soon.” He holds his hand out. “Remmy, enough doting. He has his dog for that.”

Wordlessly the elf bustles over to Lucius and takes his hand. With a snap of Remmy’s fingers, they’re gone. Now it’s just me and Thomus. For two fucking weeks apparently.

He squints at me from across the room, a sour expression on his face. “What’re you holding?” he asks.

I raise my eyebrows and press my lips together, pulling the skillet out from behind my back, trying to look innocent.

To my surprise, he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Good to know you’re prepared,” he says, and I struggle to tell if he’s being sarcastic. “Do me a favor and swing that at my brother next time you see him.”

“That would be a very unfair fight,” I say. “I’d knock him out cold with one swing.”

He laughs again, but stops short, his face twisting in pain.

“What happened?” I ask, stepping slowly into the room. He has a new bandage on his leg. The unicorn hair woven into it shimmers in the fading evening light. “Lucius said you were bitten by a... doxy? I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one.”

Thomus sighs heavily. “They’re similar to Cornish pixies, but with an extra set of arms and legs. Not to mention their rows of razor sharp teeth.”

“Razor sharp teeth? And you didn’t notice you were bitten by one?” I ask, raising my eyebrows again, this time in disbelief. I can hardly see his face anymore with the light fading out the window behind him, so I cross the room to his lamp and click it on. I can read his face a lot better now that I’m closer to him.

He’s glaring at something across the room, shaking his head slightly. “Of course I did. I’d have never been bitten by one at all if Weasley hadn’t sent me on a fucking goose chase through the Sutherland bogs. If I hadn’t been fighting off a particularly territorial Horned Serpent at the time, I’d have gotten it looked at.”

My snicker makes him redirect his glare to me. “Good to know all it takes to take you out is the combination of a Horned Serpent and a doxy.” He opens his mouth to fire back, but I beat him to it. The hand still holding the skillet gestures to his leg. “Did they give you anything to treat it? Or I assume since you heal yourself so much, you were the one firing orders?”

His hands, one resting on his stomach and the other at his side, clench. A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Yes, there’s a potion to inject on the bite once a day. But no, they summoned a specialist.”

“Did they give you something for the pain? Like those drops you gave me?”

He sighs. “Strictly speaking, that spell is technically banned. Patients were reporting getting accidentally over-dosed by Healers.”

I roll my eyes. “Wow, so murder, torture, and removal of free will - totally okay, but a spell to get you high? Oh, no, now that’s just too much.”

“You’re annoying,” he huffs, his throat scratchy. Exhaustion takes over his features and when he blinks, his lids remain closed a second too long. It’s hard to look at him like this. I wish there’s something I can do to make him better. Look at me, wishing a Death Eater wasn’t sick. Maybe I’m just too nice.

“Do you need anything?” I ask, my voice soft.

“Water?” comes his whisper.

“Yeah, sure.” I’m quickly out of the door and back, the skillet in my hand replaced with a glass of ice water. He’s fast asleep by the time I’m back. I gently place the glass on his night stand before tip toeing out of the room.

~*~

Okay, so Thomus is sick. Bed-ridden. He has to keep his foot propped up for most of the day. Remmy comes just before dark to inject the potion into his wound. The glimpses I’ve gotten of it are pretty gross. The puncture is extremely small, but it’s effect is obviously massive. His skin around it is green with green puss seeping from the hole. I know that wizards don’t get the flu, but his other physical symptoms are similar to that. Headache, fever, aches, and chills.

The last few days, besides bringing him water or a book, I’ve left him alone. He’s gotten far grumpier than he ever has been before. I’m not sure if this particular illness makes him grumpy or if he’s just grumpy when he’s sick. Either way, he shoos me off or barks something at me whenever he sees me.

And in all honesty, I’m fine with that, the leaving him alone. Every time I see him, my mind instantly flashes to what we got up to Edinburgh when we were alone. A part of me wants him to heal quickly so we can pick up where we left off. The other part, the more sensible part, obviously, keeps thinking of a way to use this to my advantage. If I were to escape, ideally it would be when he can hardly walk.

As much as I wish I weren’t afraid of Lucius’s wrath, I definitely am. I know they probably don’t have the best relationship, but his threat makes it clear that he cares, at least. So hurting Thomus is definitely off the table… if it was ever on it to be honest.

One evening I’m startled by Remmy popping into the kitchen. Their hands are on their hips and they’re big eyes are narrowed up at me.

“Miss hasn’t been feeding Master Thomus?!” their high-pitched voice accuses.

My jaw drops in confusion and my eyebrows pinch together. “What?”

“Is Miss trying to starve Master Thomus?” Remmy stomps their tiny foot. “Mistress instructs us to give Miss plenty of food to feed both Miss and Master Thomus! Master Thomus is sick and needs –“

“He won’t eat anything I offer him,” I respond. “I’ve even offered to make him things he likes.”

Remmy sighs in irritation and marches up to me, grabbing my hand and Apparating us into Thomus’s room. I’m a bit taken a back at first by the unexpected change of scenery, but once I adjust, I quickly take in that Thomus is shirtless, propped up against his pillows again, a book in his hands. He even has those fucking glasses on. At least I have on shorts that aren’t riding up my ass this time.

Before either of us can say anything besides look at each other with surprise, Remmy spouts, “Miss says Master Thomus refuses to eat!”

Thomus’s eyes bounce from me to the elf, his expression turning cross. “I told you, Remmy, I’m not hungry.”

“But Miss offers to make Master Thomus’s favorites!” the elf protests. “Master Thomus must get better!”

“Yes, I know,” he snaps, and gestures to an open package of crackers on his table. “But if I thought I could eat anything more than these without puking, you two would be the first to know.”

The elf doesn’t seem to know what to say for a moment and considers. “Remmy will instruct Miss on a special broth for Master Thomus to eat tonight!”

From the way Thomus’s jaw set and he looks back down into his book, I can tell he’s just going to ignore Remmy.

The elf turns to me. “Miss needs to change Master Thomus’s bandage every morning!” Before I can protest, they grab my hand and pull me to stand next to his injured leg. “Remmy shows you.” They carefully lift Thomus’s ankle and begin to gingerly unwrap it, their voice soft as they speak. “Remmy will bring fresh bandages for the evening and morning. Miss must not throw away the special unicorn hair bandages. Master Lucius says they’re very expensive and rare and must be reused after a thorough cleaning.”

My mind instantly flashes to the unicorn hair bandage Thomus used on when he was trying to heal the words on my arm. I feel bad because I know I’d left it discarded in Edinburgh.

I glance up at Thomus when he hisses as the puncture is revealed. After three days, it only looks the slightest bit better. Being this close, it kinda has a weird smell to it too. Remmy snaps their fingers and instantly a potion-filled syringe appears in their hand. My eyes flicker up to Thomus again to see his bare chest rapidly rise and fall, his gaze zeroed in on the syringe. He looks… afraid of it.

“Don’t look,” I say, ignoring the voice in the back of my head telling me not to comfort him. He blinks up at me briefly before staring intently at the syringe again. Remmy has paused and is looking closely at the wound, as if searching for something. I move around the small elf to Thomus. I firmly push at his jaw to turn his face away and grab one of his hands from where it’s tightly gripping the edge of his book. “Don’t look and squeeze my hand if when hurts.”

When Remmy finally pushes the needle into him, he holds his breath and his long fingers tightly squeeze mine. He heavily releases the breath he’d been holding when the needle is pulled out. His grip on my hand loosens, but he strangely doesn’t let go. I keep my eyes on Remmy as they wrap his ankle again with a fresh bandage, and I pretend not to notice, secretly enjoying his hand in mine.

~*~

Later that night after Remmy had gone, I’m still wide awake, sitting in bed reading a book. I hear Thomus moving around in the bathroom. Initially, I don’t think much of it. It’s just like any other time. He’s doing his business, I’m minding my own – the usual.

But then there’s two loud thunks from inside the bathroom. I jump out of bed, and run to the door. “Thomus?” I call, holding my ear up to it to listen for sound. When I get no response, I try the door knob, but it’s locked.

“Thomus?” I say again, worry clear in my voice. Not wanting to wait, I dash around to the bathroom entrance in his room, slowly pushing open the door.

Thomus is on the floor, temple busted open from where it had obviously hit the tub, if the blood smears were any indication. He’s churning on the floor, clearly trying to get up.

“Hey,” I say softly, crouching to give him a hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he bites out. As he gets to his feet, or foot I should say, he’s not steady whatsoever. My arm is around his back, his shoulder over mine. His skin is warm and slightly damp. “Go away.”

“No,” I respond with a stern tone. “Sit.” I direct him to sit on the edge of the tall bath tub. Luckily, he complies, sitting heavily on the ceramic. I hold his chin so I can examine the gash on his temple. It’s small, a lump is already forming, but it’s still bleeding. His face is pale. “Don’t move.”

I quickly get clean cloth from the towel storage and run it under some cold water. Then I wring it out and return to him. Well, I try to. He’s stretched his legs out, and in the small space, that forces me to step over them. My hand extends to his cut, but he turns his head away.

Frustrated, I get closer by standing over his non-injured leg. I grab his jaw and turn his head so I can dab the wound. When he doesn’t move, I remove my hand.

“What happened?” I ask again, trying to be delicate. “Did you trip? Or slip or –“

“No. I… “ he pauses, then forces the rest of it out on a sigh, “felt-light headed.”

My eyebrows raise and I focus on his face for the first time since getting this close. Ugh, he’s so fucking handsome. Why does my heart pick up every time I notice? I can literally feel my pulse at the base of my throat. His eyes are on me and I look back at his temple, feeling the revealing blush spread across my face.

I take a deep breath and try to keep my nervousness out of my tone, instead making it light and teasing. “So you fainted? I wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that you refuse to eat anything.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but then quickly shuts it, frowning.

I sigh. “I need to a new cloth.” Before I can step away from him, he grabs my wrist and yanks the cloth out of it, tossing it on the floor. “Hey!” I protest, but he ignores me, releases my wrist and conjures his wand with a flick of his hand.

“Episky,” he says, pointing the wand at his temple. I watch up close as his skin stitches itself back together. With a flick of his wrist, his wand is gone again.

I scowl. “You let me do all that?”

He shrugs. “You were being very bossy.”

I close my eyes and shake my head, straightening to move away from him. “Ridiculous. I –“

My words are cut off with a sharp intake of air when his once straightened out leg is now being pressed right between mine. His arms encircle my waist, pulling me close and he buries his face in my neck.

“Now where do you think you’re going?” he asks, his voice husky.  

My hands are on his shoulders, trying to push myself away, but I’m not very steady, seeing as how I’m straddling his thigh. As I try to move out of his hold, my hips are basically grinding myself against him in the process, and its oh –

A little whimper escapes my throat. “Thomus.”

He moans a wordless response against my throat, his tongue coming out to trace patterns on my neck. One of his hands begins slowly roaming the side of my torso, from my hips to the bits of my stomach and boobs smooshed against him.

“What’re you doing?” I ask, barely above a whisper. His other arm around my waist presses his hand against my lower back, encouraging me to keep rocking against his thigh.

Instead of answer, his mouth finds its way to the edge of the scoop-neck of my crop top. I thought it’d been safe to wear because I wasn’t spending a lot of time around him. His tongue dips into the top of my cleavage, lapping and sucking at my skin. His hand taking a tour of my body grips a particularly fleshy bit of the side of my stomach.

Thomus notices when I stiffen and his head pops up, his blown-out pupils staring into mine. He doesn’t ask me anything, he drops his gaze to my mouth and quickly covers it with his own. I can’t help but sigh and relax into his kiss as his lips move against mine. My fingers, of course, find their way into his hair.

“I like it,” he hums low when he pulls away to trail kisses along my jaw.

“Like what?” I ask breathlessly as I tilt my head back, giving him access.

The hand that had gripped my side roll, spreads across where I’m being held against him. “This,” he says, pressing in and giving it a lil shake, so I know exactly the part of my body he’s referring to.

I pull back from him a bit, our bodies are still pressed together, but I can look him in the face now. I’m sure he can read the confusion and disbelief on mine. As I try to read his, looking for the joke, for the lie, I’m shocked to not see any.

 “You’re kidding,” I say flatly.

Thomus slowly shakes his head. If I’m reading him correctly, his expression is nothing but intense… desire. His gaze is dark and though he tries to keep it on my face, it keeps dropping to my cleavage on display between us. His hand goes around to my ass, squeezing and somehow pulling me closer still. I can’t ignore where my thigh is pressed under his erection.

He kisses me again, but briefly and returns to my neck where I feel his teeth scraping my skin. But the gears in my mind are still turning, trying to process this information and all the stimulation. The little slut in my head just wants him to bite me.

“But I thought –“ I start to say.

“Melisa, you don’t know anything,” he breathes heavily against my skin. At the sound of my name, so intimate coming from him, my response to pull him back up is visceral. My hands hold the sides of his face as I kiss him, feeling… fuck, I have no idea what I’m feeling right now. All I know is that it’s good. I feel good.

After a few moments of kissing him, rocking against him, reveling in his hands on me again, my brain finally catches up to me and I pull away. He doesn’t let that stop him and like a magnet he goes for my neck.

“Thomus,” I whisper earnestly. “We have to stop. You’re sick. You just fainted. I have to get you into bed.”

“Mmm, yes,” he hums. “Let’s get back to our bed.”

I pull his face back, cradling it between my hands as I examine his face. He’s pale, his eyes are glassy, and he’s perspiring. “No, Thomus, your bed.” I sigh, holding the back of my hand up to his forehead. “You’re delirious. I think you have a fever.”

He sighs heavily and lets me go. I go to his right side, putting his arm around my shoulder, and I help him to his feet and back into bed. I’m positive he’s passed out asleep before I’ve even left his room.