gave it a nice glow as a finish :)

“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this.” (Ethan)

“You ready?” Ethan asked. You were over at his house, about to film a YouTube video. Grayson was sick, so Ethan asked you if you wanted to fill in for him. You sat down next to him in front of the camera and nodded.

“Ready when you are.” You said. Ethan started the video and got to the explanation for the video.

“So, Grayson is sick, so I figured that I would have my girlfriend (Y/N) film with me instead.” Ethan said.

“Hi guys.” You said as you waved to the camera.

“I can’t believe that I’m letting you do this, but here we go.” He said. You picked up your makeup bag and waved it in front of the camera. 

“Good ole’ Ethan here is gonna let me do his makeup.” You laughed. You dumped out all your makeup on the table in front of you and got to work.

“Oh my god, here we go.” Ethan whined. You started with the foundation and gave him a nice glow, then moved on to the blush.

“Smile.” You said, and he gave you the cheesiest smile. You just sat there and laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” He asked.

“Because you’re cute.” You said.

“Thanks, I try.” He laughed. You finished with the blush and moved on to his eye make up. 

“Okay, you need to sit absolutely still. Or else you’re going to get poked in the eye, and it’s going to hurt.” You said. Ethan just laughed.

The entire time you were doing his eye makeup, he was twitching and being all jittery.

“Boy, if you don’t keep still.” You said to him.

“I’m sorry. It hurts. I don’t know how you can do this everyday.” He whined.

“It’s not a big deal once you get used to it.” You said. You finished up his eye liner and eye shadow, applied his mascara, then pulled out your eyelash curler.

“What the hell is that?” He asked.

“It’s an eyelash curler. It curls your eyelashes and kinda keeps them out of your eyes.” You said.

“That goes on my eye?” He asked.

“Your eyelashes.” You said. You leaned close to his face and brought the curler up to his eye. “Even the slightest movement will end badly, so I suggest you don’t.” You said.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He said. You curled his eyelashes, and finished up with some lip gloss.

“There. You’re all done.” You said as you cleaned up. Ethan looked in the view finder and admired his face.

“I look like a million bucks.” He said laughing.

“Something like that.” You said. He sat back down and you wrapped your arm around his shoulders as he kissed you on the cheek, leaving behind two glossy lip prints.

“Well, there you have it. I’ve gotten all dolled up.” He said.

“Now we’re gonna go out in public and see what other people think.” You laughed. 

“Um, not quite.” Ethan said. He did the outro and turned off the camera.

“If I were a girl, I’d be hot.” He said as he looked at his face one last time before he washed off all the make up.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves babe.” You laughed. You spent the rest of the day at this house as you watched him edit the video and get it ready to upload the next day.

Release: Namjoon Smut

Prompt: A stressful work week leads to Namjoon helping you de-stress.

Genre: Angst/Smut

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: This piece contains sexually explicit themes. Discretion is advised.

You sat heavily on the bed. The sickly bland feeling that grew in your chest began seeping into your limbs, poisoning them and rendering them useless. You allowed your form to slide down so that your head found the pillow. A deep sigh escaped your lips, and the rush of the day finally caught up to you as hot tears began to slide down your cheeks.

For awhile, you allowed the melancholy to inhabit your bones, a chill settled over your body even though you had long since wrapped the duvet around yourself. After keeping the feelings bottled in for so long, it felt exquisite to release the pent up frustration and anger that had been brewing.

A long week at work meant that your spirit had been essentially drained. It hadn’t been at the fault of your boss, or even your coworkers- they were lovely. It just seemed like everything that could have went wrong that week did. Little mishaps all contributed to the mess of a person that sat beneath the blankets.

You didn’t hear the door creak open later that night. You didn’t hear the scuffle of shoes being removed, or the soft call for you through the dark apartment. You were too busy still wrapped up in your own head and feelings to hear your boyfriend come home at nearly 9 o'clock.

You were shocked out of your stress induced stupor when he entered the bedroom, a soft sigh slipping from his lips when he saw you. He new what it meant when he came home to you like this. He hated seeing you like this. He hated that your dream job could cause you such stress sometimes, and he could do nothing about it.

“Jagiya,” he let out another deep sigh.

“Oh, hi Joonie,” you peered up at his form. He approached the bed slowly, like someone approaching a wounded animal. He gazed at you a few more moments before tentatively reaching out and swiping some hair away from your face, a move that had you leaning into his warm skin.

“I guess I don’t have to ask you how your day went,” he said matter of factly. He began undressing himself, tugging his shirt over his head, quickly followed by his jeans. He walked to the other side of the bed and lifted the comforter, sliding into the toasty bed and pressing his body against yours.

“Week, actually,” you began. You sunk into his warm body and allowed for him to reach his arms around you, holding you close.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into you neck. He paused there to place a soft kiss. You only hummed in response as you let your eyes flutter shut. Already, his steady heart beat was calming your frantic one, and his presence began to soothe your anxiety. Still, the tension in your muscles seemed to stay stubbornly rooted, and Namjoon noticed. His hand moved from your waist to smooth up and down your arm.

“Let me help you,” he whispered and gave a squeeze to your bicep. You eagerly nodded at his offer, knowing where this was heading. Namjoon always knew the best way to take care of you. He placed one chaste kiss on you cheek before tugging your face back so that his lips could meet yours.

His lips were warm, soft, and plump against your own. It didn’t take much for you to sigh into the kiss, only spurring him on. His hand cupped your cheek and he ran a thumb over your tears, effectively wiping them away. The soft kisses soon turned into something heavier. The slow pace at which he took them made the pit in your stomach burn. He didn’t let the kiss get out of hand, every move calculated. This wasn’t about being hot and fierce. He wanted to make you feel better, and his every movement clearly showed that.

Eventually, his hand slid from your cheek and ghosted down your body. He released his hold on your lips, allowing your head to slip back comfortably. His lips moved to your neck, and he began to suck harshly on the tender skin. You knew there would be marks the next morning, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you relished in the idea of him marking you, and you keened into his hot lips.

The hand that had been holding your cheek only moments before now ghosted over the hem of your panties.

“I want to make you feel good, okay?” His fingers brushed lovingly along your lower tummy. You nodded quickly, his lips ghosting over your skin causing goosebumps. He placed a few quick kisses right behind your ear. His fingers finally dipped below your underwear line and found the slickness of your folds. His middle and forefinger swiped through them, spreading your arousal.

“So wet,” he commented, maybe to himself. You whined at his feather light touches, wanting to beg for more. “I’m sorry, I won’t tease,” he relented. The fingers he had used to scope out the area of your heat found their home as they sunk into you. Your hand flew to grip his forearm, guiding him in his ministrations. His fingers stroked the ribbed walls of your pussy, the delicious friction working your tired body quickly to a frenzy. You found that your hips began moving on their own accord, slowly rocking against each pump of his fingers.

As his fingers worked and curled inside you, his thumb rested on your clit. Every now and then he would apply pressure or lazily rub at the sensitive nub. He knew how these slow and heavy movements were what got you worked up when you were stressed. Others relied on furious fucking, taking their frustrations out on each other, but you preferred the slow, hot love making that if carefully executed, could last for hours on end.

Too soon, a thin layer of sweat had coated your forehead as the coil tightened in you belly. Your breathing came out in shorts puffs, and you fought to find your words to tell him to stop. This wasn’t how you wanted to end the night.

“Namjoon, please,” you mewled. As much as your mind was craving a different way of pleasure, you couldn’t stop your hips from moving on his hands. The basic thought of him having his fingers inside of you set your loins on fire, and your hips momentarily stuttered. It took all of your strength to tug his hand from your core, your body dreading the empty feeling that followed.

“What do you want, baby?” He cooed. Although his voice was affectionate, you knew he took guilty pleasure in hearing you say dirty words aloud.

“I want you, Namjoon,” you whined, not wanting to relent to his hidden request.

“You have me,” he replied simply. You could almost see the smirk on his face. His teasing was setting you off, the tension from work adding to your hasty reply.

“I want you to fuck me. I want your cock, Joonie,” you added the affectionate nickname. You knew you had him when his body stiffened behind you.

“Shit, baby. Okay,” he shuffled around a bit. He began by removing your panties, pulling them down to your knees, followed by pulling himself out of his boxers. His length sat heavy and hot between your thighs. You unconsciously bucked your hips back, earning a hiss from him.

His large hand gripped your thigh, lifting it up so that he could slide into you. At that point, you were so worked up that he sunk in easily. He gave you a few moments to adjust, and eventually he bottomed out in you, sighs escaping from both of your lips.

“You always feel so amazing,” he commented. All you could manage was a soft moan in agreement as he began to move. Your head fell back into the crook of his shoulder and he placed a kiss on your temple.

He kept his strokes long and slow. He made sure to rock into you completely with each thrust, and you were sure that he was hitting the deepest parts of you. The feeling of being empty one moment, and then completely full the next was enough to send your mind dizzy. Your hips met his every thrust, making the movements sharper and more pleasurable for the both of you. Each thrust brought a lewd smack of skin that echoed in the otherwise empty room.

“N-Namjoon,” you struggled to form coherent words. “Fast-ter,” your breath caught as he hit the spot in you, and you swore you saw stars at the edge of your vision. He picked up the speed, the sound of skin slapping hardly muffled by the cushion of your ass. He dropped your thigh from his hold, the movement making you that much tighter around him.

“Fuck, (Y/N), I’m close baby. I’m so close,” his voice sounded at least an octave higher than normal. All you could do was nod and encourage him by clenching around his length. His hand, now free, returned to your clit. This time, however, he swiped hard, fast circles that had you moaning loudly.

One particularly hard pinch finished you off. The heat had been pooling in your core for awhile, but all of a sudden the dam broke, and the white hot heat fled through your body. Namjoon could hardly hold on after that, your moans and clenching around became too much. His body stuttered as he gave one last thrust into you, stilling as his seed spilled into your core. His hand had lost all rhythm on your clit, and your intense orgasm was fading nicely, leaving you in a post sex glow.

The two of you stayed like that for awhile, too tired and blissful to move. Eventually, he slid himself from you, the both of you letting out a sound from your sensitive areas. He climbed out of bed, and you worried for a moment that he wasn’t coming back.

He returned a few moments later with clean boxers and a wet wash cloth. He climbed back into the bed and cleaned you off, wiping both his and your fluids from your thighs. Your body was sinking into a relaxed and hazy state, your eyelids drooped every few seconds.

He made himself comfortable behind you again, but pulled your body around so that you laid comfortably on his bare chest. He gazed down at you with a look that made your heart swell. Any thoughts of a stressful work week were long forgotten.

“Go to sleep, baby. I’ll have breakfast for you in the morning,” he cooed. Your sleepy state didn’t stop the snarky comment that escaped your lips.

“Just don’t burn the house down, Destructor,” you were already fast asleep by the time he replied with an equally witty remark. He placed one last kiss on your head before he drifted off as well.

Dinner for Two

A/N: Hello there jewels! This little one-shot is inspired and based off of this post, because I just couldn’t resist and my mind went wild. So, instead of doing my college work, I wrote this instead, So enjoy, and bon-appetit! 

Pairing: Nalu

Word Count: 3,000

Rating: T

Summary: Being stood up was the icing on the cake for her old relationship, and being on an empty stomach would suddenly have its perks, like meeting your new designated sexy, pink-haired boyfriend for the night.


The delectable scents of marinara and freshly baked bread wafted through the cheerful air of the restaurant, setting Lucy’s tastebuds ablaze with dire need and desire, her stomach grumbling incessantly as she eyed a child sitting a few tables over as he enjoyed a piece of chicken parmesan. If only she could be so lucky…

She looked to her phone and tapped the screen to bring it to life, the light of her phone reflecting off of the smooth and shining surface of her perfectly manicured nail. The clock on her phone read 7:30, and to her disappointment, no new messages either. 

No new messages, and he was an hour and a half late.

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Divorced with Kids

Niall: When you and NIall signed the papers you couldn’t believe it, your marriage got to his point where you two couldn’t stand each other, but that wasn’t the case, Niall wanted out. He wanted to feel 21 again going out, with no one to worry about to have fun. But you knew that you that wasn’t your life anymore; you had responsibilities and that was your children. The 3 of them, Iris, Nick, and Andy the youngest of the 3. It was Niall’s weekend and the kids were excited to see their father and you were happy as well, they missed their father. You pulled up to his house and helped the kids with their bags. They were all lined up as you closed the trunk, 

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