the icebox

The Icebox Murders

On June 23, 1965, two Houston police officers visited the home of elderly Fred Rogers and his wife, Edwina. Concerned that the couple had not answered their phone for three days, a nephew had called police to investigate the house, which they shared with their son, Charles.

The house seemed deserted when the police knocked, and there was no sign of what may have happened to the Rogers. Noticing some food had been left out on the kitchen table, an officer opened the fridge to put it back; he noticed that the shelves were stacked with freshly chopped cuts of meat. The officer commented to his partner that the couple must have butchered a hog, when he noticed the two severed heads sitting in the vegetable crisper.

The house on Driscoll St was immediately taped off, but there were few clues for investigators to pursue. Fred Rogers had been battered to death with a claw hammer, and his genitals had been sliced off and thrown in the toilet. Edwina Rogers had been beaten about the face with her own cane, and shot execution-style in the head. The meat in the refrigerator was the couple’s dismembered limbs and torsos. Human organs were discovered in a sewage pipe in the garden, after being flushed down the toilet.

A bloodstained saw discovered in Charles Rogers bedroom was enough to convince police he was a material witness in his parents murders. A warrant for his arrest was issued and a manhunt conducted throughout Texas, but no trace of Rogers was ever found. He was declared legally dead in 1975. No other suspect has ever been arrested for the murders of the Rogers’, and the case remains unsolved.

The Signs As Pies (Happy Pi Day!)

Aries: Spiced Apple Pie

Taurus: Raisin Pie

Gemini:  Triple-Chocolate Pumpkin Pie

Cancer:  Buttermilk Pie

Leo:  Margarita Pie

Virgo: Strawberry Icebox Pie

Libra:  Shaker Lemon Pie

Scorpio: Chocolate Pecan Pie

Sagittarius: Banana Cream Pie

Capricorn:  Raspberry Custard Pie

Aquarius: Sweet Potato Pie

Pisces:  Frozen Key Lime Pie


17 YEARS AGO TODAY: Aaliyah {with her Marijuana shirt} attends the launch Party at The Factory {located in West Hollywood California} June 7th, 2000 is a web television animation company that was founded November 1999 and launched June 2000; the company is based in Los Angeles California. It’s most well-known online animation creations of the company are the provocative animated cartoon “Mr. Wong” and “Queer Duck”. Many of the founders such as Rob LaZebnik and Jonathan Collier have written {and continue to contribute to write} for shows as “The Simpsons” in traditional media.

Just YESTERDAY {June 6th 2000} Aaliyah’s “Back In One Piece” was released.

{All Three Images credit to:}

So I’m doing research for my essay, right? It’s on police conduct. My file of saved PDFs is barely usable because EVERY DAMN ARTICLE ever written about police conduct and identity uses puns and wordplay with the word “blue” in the title. “Crossing the Thin Blue Line”. “The Blue Identity”. “The Blue Code of Silence”. “I Spy Something Blue”. “Coming Out of the Blue: Gay, Lesbian, and Bisexual Police”. 

I swear to god if you’re an academic and you write another paper about police using blue puns, I will come to your house and personally shit in your icebox. Either cut it out or grow some and start making pork-based puns, at least then I’d be able to organize my research in alphabetical order!

Happy birthday @pretzel-log1c!! I took the prompt idea of speedster!Len and Captain Cold!Barry to this XD

I had decided to come up with different outfits for them to wear rather than simply drawing them in each other’s clothes. I imagine Barry’s hair is white with his eyes glowing blue when he’s using his powers, like Caitlin on the show. Only he’s able to turn them off and look normal at whim, because he has more control over his abilities. Len would obviously be a fantastic speedster thief that for the longest time wouldn’t be known of, let alone caught until this new hero came onto the scene, and what a cutie! So flirting and stalking abounds. I had fun coming up with new logos and names for them in this verse :3 (It’s also giving me fic ideas.)  (And yes, I totally used the uniforms the Paladins wore from Voltron XD)

Links to art refs removed due to tumblr blocking posts with external link from the search engine.

Tagging peeps: @mockingbird-22 @sweetteaowl @robininthelabyrinth @blinkingkills @pheuthe @crimsondomingo @kipsiih @redcharade @fadetoblaqk @bobbedrake @daughterofscotland @caneycane

Coming Soon: The Icebox is Reopening!

We’re revamping Speakeasy Tonight, a classic Voltage USA title, for Lovestruck!

Be whisked away by the danger and romance of the roaring 20s with the same stories you loved, now for free, with new sprite and EI artwork, and more!

We’re also bringing our new and returning users two never-before seen stories, one featuring our most requested character, and one featuring a brand new lovely lady!

Last drawing that I did for that coldflash challenge. Took a while cause I got sick. Pose was found on da, if anyone is wondering.

Don’t worry, Velocity is not dead, just fainted from blood loss/shock/low sugar levels. He just needs a bag of M&M’s. Icebox can heal himself too, by applying his own ice to his wounds, but he’ll do that after checking on his boyfriend who had rushed in to save him from an explosion or something. (Blame @mockingbird-22 for Velocity having bullet wounds in the first place XD)

@robininthelabyrinth @blinkingkills @sweetteaowl @pheuthe @kipsiih @caneycane @bobbedrake @crimsondomingo @fadetoblaqk @redcharade @pretzel-log1c @daughterofscotland @prouvairablehulk @jq-piccadilly @tortick

Another well-known Rhode Island landmark was the Big Coffee Mug, a giant travel mug that began life in the early 1990s as a working fountain. It once stood in front of Coffee & Cream, a Smithfield restaurant that served donuts, sandwiches, and coffee.

In 2013 it was taken over by a RISD student and reopened as The Icebox, serving ice cream and Richie’s Italian Ice. The endeavor only lasted a season, however, and in 2014 the entire property was demolished.

the gang’s crush - imagine

requested by anon - (thanks for requesting! it’s dialogue heavy but i hope u like it!)
warnings: none rlly, stuff i write usually will contain cursing though

The dog days of early August had always been the absolute worst in Tulsa - both you and the gang knew that real well. Days like that, you and the boys would normally hang at the Curtises’. After all, you’d known the Curtis brothers for quite some time; you used to go to school with Soda before he dropped out and you graduated. If you weren’t at your house or the Dingo, you just happened to be with at Curtis house with the rest of the gang. This time, a lazy Saturday, your only fan had broken and you knew it’d be nothing but agony sitting in the endless heat without anyone entertaining to talk to. So you decided to haul ass over to the Curtis house in Tulsa’s 102 degree heat, grateful that their house is no more than 2 minutes away.

Wiping small beads of sweat along your hairline, you closed their house’s gate and headed up the walkway before opening both the screen door and front door - you knew they never kept it locked. 

“Anyone hom-“ you started, before catching sight of nearly all the boys languidly lounging about the living room, most of them with their eyes closed. That’s when you caught sight of Two-bit sitting in front of a fan, making noises in it so that he’d hear his voice sound funny. Well, that was Two-bit for you. “Well, look who it is, boys!” Two said into the fan in an attempt to the gang to stir.

“For cryin’ out loud, Two, would you get your head outta that fan? You’re hoggin’ all the air, man,” Soda responded, ignoring what Two had previously said, his chest gleaming with sweat.

Two-bit laughed a little bit, reluctantly getting out of the way of the fan. “Boy, you all look real glad to see Y/N!” At the mention of your name, you saw a few eyelids fly open and a few boys actually sit up. Semi-energetic ‘hello’s echoed throughout the small living room. Dally and Darry were upright in the armchairs, Steve sat on the couch with Soda and Johnny and Pony were sitting around the coffee table.

“Well, hi there, Y/N!” Soda said, getting off of the couch while Pony began furiously wiping sweat off of his face with his t-shirt. “Come an’ sit. Want somethin’ to drink? I mean, it sure is hot today.” Soda made his way to the kitchen only to find that Two had moved from sitting in front of the fan to sitting in front of the refrigerator. You sat in the spot that Soda left, a little wet with sweat, which didn’t seem to bother you.

“Looks like we got coke, water, milk and beer. Anythin’ you want, Y/N?” Two asked from the kitchen.

“Keith, if you don’t close that icebox door, I’m gonna be closin’ that icebox door on you, y’hear?” Darry called back to Two.

“Alright, alright, Dar.” Two rolled his eyes and got out from the cold, opened fridge with a beer in hand. He stood up and made his way back to the living room and popped the cap of the bottle with the edge of the coffee table.

“Get me a glass of milk, Soda,” Dally demanded, his voice gruff with what seemed like exhaustion. ((”some guys my age, man”))

“If there’s any chocolate cake left, would you grab me a slice?” Steve asked, wiping a droplet of sweat off his cheek with his shoulder.  

“Yeah, you mind gettin’ me and Johnny a bottle of co-“ Pony started, before being cut off by Soda.

“Any of your names Y/N? You all got a pair of workin’ legs now, don’t you?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure my legs work, too. I’ll get my own water, Soda. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” you responded, getting off the sofa and walking into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass, until you’re stopped by Soda.

“No, Y/N, I’ll get it. Just go on and sit,” Soda insisted, grinning at you, grabbing your shoulders and taking you back into the living room.

“No, it’s alright, Soda. I’ll pour her a glass,” Two said, pushing past Soda to get back into the kitchen’s fridge.

“C’mon, I said that I’ll pour it, Two.” Soda pushed his way back into the kitchen as well, fighting with Two to get the pitcher. Two rolled his eyes and let Soda pour the cold water out the pitcher and into the glass.

“Y’know, I was thinking, guys - we should all go do somethin’ today,” Soda announced to the gang, putting the pitcher back into the fridge and shutting its door.

“Are you outta your fuckin’ mind? Maybe the heat’s gettin’ to your brain, man,” Dal complained, rubbing his tensed eyebrows with his middle finger and thumb.

Soda had come back with the cold glass of water for you and sat on the armrest of the couch beside you. “Dally, we haven’t moved in the past three hours - we gotta do something.”

“No, Dal, Soda’s right. I could take you out for ice-cream if you’d like, Y/N,” Johnny offered, his head cocked to one side a little bit.

“We ain’t got the cash for that, Johnny. How ‘bout the pool, Y/N?” Pony suggested.

“The pool’s too far. But I think a barbecue sounds just right,” Steve butt in. “How ‘bout that, Y/N?”

“Well, how ‘bout we stay here with Y/N and just keep cool?” Darry finally said after a pretty deep sigh. Boy, you were glad that Dar had butt in. If you heard your name one more time, you thought you just might have exploded. But after weighing the opportunities, you decided that staying at the house was probably the best idea. You weren’t willing to make going outside and option, especially with the sun beating down like that.

“I gotta agree with Dally and Dar, here guys. It’s real brutal out there. The only pool we’d see today is the pool we’ll melt into, Pone,” you said, a small grin on your face about the joke you cracked. Pony seemed to find it pretty funny though what with his loud giggling.

“Although I sure wouldn’t mind seein’ you in a bikini, baby,” Dally said, looking at you with a faint smirk on his lips.

All the eyes in the room shifted to Dally who nonchalantly shrugged at their gaze. His little comment made your eyebrows furrow a little and it stopped Pony’s laughing. It wasn’t the first time Dal had said something like that, but it was almost never in front of the boys and never ‘baby’. “As if you jackasses weren’t thinkin’ the same thing.”

“C’mon, Dal, this is Y/N you’re talkin’ to. She ain’t just some broad,” Steve intervenes, clearly irritated that Dal would say something like that to you - which slightly surprised you since Steve already knew that this is just how Dally acts.

“‘Course she ain’t, Steve. Why are we all continuin’ with this charade?”

“What are you talking about, Dally?” you asked him. You didn’t have a clue as to what Dal meant. Unless he meant that the boys…

“God, Y/N, are you blind? They’re all droolin’ over you. Always have been. Told each other that no one in the gang is s’posed to go after you. Even Darry.”  

The guys are tripping over themselves for you? It took you a second to process this. All of these boys had been some of your greatest friends - and they’re drooling over you. It would explain why they’d been getting into so many arguments lately. How could have you not seen this? It all made sense, but you couldn’t believe it.

A roaring silence fell over the boys and yourself. That is, until you broke it.

“You guys…what? Is that true?”

“Well, c’mon, Y/N - is the sky blue?” Dal said.

Flufflet #8 for @lifeinahole27 as a reward for writing her CSBB!

“I want to learn how to cook,” Swan said, staring at her plate.

Killian frowned. “You can cook, as evidenced by the meal in front of us.” Admittedly, it was a simple meal; baked chicken breasts and steamed vegetables. But there was certainly nothing wrong with it.

“Not like that,” she said sadly. “Just … like, for my parents’ potluck this weekend, you know my mom’s gonna make something delicious, and Regina will bring her lasagna. Even Belle and Zelena will bring something great, and they didn’t even used to cook in the Enchanted Forest and Oz or whatever.”

Privately, he thought that Belle and Zelena’s culinary skills were serviceable at best, but he understood. When Emma was tasked with bringing food to an event, she usually either volunteered to bring wine, or she ran to the market for pre-made desserts.

“You know it doesn’t upset me,” he said slowly. “And my own skill in the kitchen isn’t exactly anything to boast about. But if it bothers you, perhaps we should both learn together.”

“You’d want to?” He nodded. “Okay, well … I guess I’ll look into it.”

Killian had imagined that the most difficult part of learning to cook would be actually learning to cook. Instead, it took time to figure out the right way to learn.

Googles provided recipes and so-called foolproof methods, but everything seemed to end a little bit disastrously. Food burned, sauces did not come together, and nothing tasted any better than what they already knew how to make.

Next, they resorted to physical recipe books, which, being old-fashioned, he assumed would be much better than whatever the computer could provide. But if anything, the books were less helpful, and for the first time since encountering a computer, Killian had to admit there were significant benefits to being able to see images and watch recordings.

And actual in-person classes might have been helpful, but after just one down in Augusta, Swan ruled them out completely. He had no qualms with the decision; the instructor had been rude and insensitive (almost certainly unintentionally, but rude and insensitive nonetheless) about Killian’s disability, and it had ruined the entire experience. Neither he nor Emma could concentrate on or retain any of the lesson, and while he would do anything Emma asked of him, he was relieved that she had no desire to put him through such a humiliating experience again.

“I give up,” Emma said the next evening. She was staring at all the cookware and utensils she’d purchased to facilitate the process. “This was a huge waste of time and money.”

He rubbed her shoulder affectionately. “My love, I will not see you defeated in this way.” She snorted skeptically. “I mean it. You’re the Savior, Swan. You’ve never failed before, and you certainly won’t now.”

“What else is left to try, though? I’ve checked every website I can find about learning how to cook, and I am not trying a class again. Not after that.”

“Why don’t we take a break from this?” he suggested. “I’ll see what I can suss out, and we’ll try again then.”

She sighed. “Yeah, okay.”

He’d had to admit that he’d gone to Snow for help, but Emma hadn’t been too upset when he’d passed on the suggestion. In fact, she’d been intrigued and immediately went to the computer to check the Google.

Two weeks later, a box arrived on their front step. Inside were all the ingredients for three meals for the two of them to try, and detailed instructions.

Emma was still nervous, and truth be told, so was he. This didn’t feel much easier than simply finding recipes on Google, and since there was no instructor to guide them, it didn’t seem as though it would be as effective as an in-person lesson. But Swan had done a little research before signing up for the service, and it seemed as though it would be worth a try.

They picked the easiest-looking recipe, set up all the ingredients and equipment, pre-heated the oven, and took a deep breath.

The kitchen was a mess by the time they were done, there were some steps Swan had to take over because they required two hands, and they got in each other’s way more than once, but within an hour, they were sitting at the table to try their meal. It didn’t look nearly as beautiful as the image on the instructions did, but it smelled appetizing.

“Here goes,” Swan said anxiously before taking a bite. He watched as she did, and her eyes widened in surprise. “This is actually good,” she said, mouth still full.

He took a bite of his own serving. It was good. They’d both questioned the seemingly high number of times the recipe instructed them to season with salt and pepper, but now he understood why so many of their attempted meals were so bland. And the clear instructions meant that the meat was cooked perfectly–not underdone or burnt–and the sauce had come together perfectly.

He would have been embarrassed at how quickly they polished off the meal, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the brilliant smile on his wife’s face.

The other two dishes went much the same way. Without needing to talk about it, Emma set up delivery every other week, for when they didn’t have Henry.

It was enjoyable to work together to make each meal, but as they mastered more and more skills, the dynamic changed a bit. Some nights, Emma would insist on cooking on her own, and it was worth it to see how excited she was that she was making such a delicious meal without assistance. And other nights, he would shoo her out of the kitchen. He’d always been extremely adaptable, and before long, there was not a single step that slowed him down, even with one hand and a hook.

He almost wanted to go back to Augusta and embarrass the cooking instructor, but to do so, he’d have to pay for the privilege. No thank you.

But then life picked up a bit, and they found themselves wanting to return to recipes they’d tried before instead of new ones. And so they went down deliveries once a month, before canceling altogether.

But the skills remained. They had all the recipes from the meal delivery service, but now they each felt confident enough to try recipes from the books they’d purchased months earlier. And now those recipes were easy. As were the Google recipes.

They’d done it.

In November, they insisted on hosting the seasonal holiday, much to everyone’s surprise. When everyone asked what they could bring, he and Emma happily assigned desserts and alcoholic beverages, and politely declined any offers of appetizers or side dishes or assistance with the main course.

As the meal progressed and the effusive compliments poured in, Killian simply looked at Emma and smiled. And at the end of the night, once the dishes had been washed, the leftovers stored in the icebox, and the guests departed, he took her in his arms. “I told you.”

“Told me what?” she asked.

“You’ve never failed before,” he reminded her. “And you certainly haven’t now.”

Im supposed to start walking more as part of my Physiotherapy. So I made this Strawberry icebox cake with chocolate ganache

Edit: Yes yes it’s unhealthy. That’s why its not for me ;P
Catch Me (Day 3)

Summary: In which a bet leads Bucky to have to catch you every day for a week, no matter what.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,967

@avengerstories thank you for not getting sick of me asking you to edit things for me

Day 2

Originally posted by amjeth

The bright sun streams through a small crack in the curtains early in the morning, unceremoniously waking you up. You roll over in bed in an attempt to hide from the rude awakening but it is no use. Once you have been woken up, there’s no going back to sleep.

You open your eyes and find yourself face-to-face with your laptop, which kept you up until well past four in the morning. At the time, binge watching your favorite show on Netflix had felt like a wonderful idea. Now, due to the exhaustion that clings desperately to your bones, you realize that staying up so late probably wasn’t such a great plan after all.

Keep reading


Genre: Smut/bit of fluff

Pairing: You x Chanyeol

Word Count: 4,966

Summary: Everything was going fine at the hotel you were staying at… Until the people in the room next door start making a bit too much noise. You decide to get out of your room, only to find yourself falling into a similar situation.

A/N: This is pretty long and repetitive at times but I had fun writing it. Sorry for any typos!

Not only could I hear the headboard banging against the drywall, but I could feel my own bed shaking as a result. I tried not to be bothered, but the sounds coming from next door penetrated through the thin walls and filled my room. I glared at my phone, seeing that it was a little after midnight. I let out a disgusted sigh. They had been at it for almost an hour. I angrily rolled on my stomach, squishing my face into the pillow.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I yelled into the cushion, hoping that the literal fuckers next door would hear me. As one could guess, they didn’t. I yanked the blankets off of my body and sat up, brushing my staticy hair out of my face. I was usually a patient person, but how did the people next door not realize how loud they were? Or was that all part of the fun? Disturbing the peace? Seeing who could pull the loudest reaction? I didn’t really know anything about hotel sex, considering the fact that I’d never done it, but I knew that the noises coming from the room next door were making me uncomfortable.

I shook my head, trying to think of something to do to distract myself. I could listen to music, but my bed would still be rattling underneath me. I could tell them to stop, but I wasn’t one for confrontation and I’m sure they’d be much too busy to listen anyways. I guess I’d just have to leave my room for a bit and hope they’d be done when I got back. It was pretty late though, and there weren’t many places for me to go in the hotel. The pool closed at eleven and I didn’t have money for the bar/lounge area. I sighed, throwing my hair into a messy bun. I picked up my hoodie from the floor and tossed it over my head, letting the material engulf my body. I guess I’d just have to find a different place.

I stepped out of my room, being sure to grab my phone and my key card. The moans coming from the room next door were much louder in the hallway. I rolled my eyes, hearing the girl’s strangled sounds echoing off the walls. As much as I was annoyed and uncomfortable, I felt a bit envious knowing this girl was getting it good. At least, it sure sounded like she was.

I knew if I stood by their door any longer I’d look like a complete pervert, so I immediately turned the opposite direction and headed down the hallway. I adjusted my shorts, making sure they were at least somewhat visible under my oversized hoodie as I walked. Although I had no idea as to where I was going, the empty, dimly lit corridor gave me a sense of peace and comfort.

As I neared the end of the hallway, I decided to go down a level, remembering that there was an ice machine on the floor below. I stomped down the stairs, reaching the tiny off-chute that held the icebox, a vending machine, a small bench nestled in the corner, and a green house plant. I looked up, noticing how the room was only illuminated by a single lightbulb, giving the space a hazy golden glow.

I curled up on the backless bench, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my head against the wall to my left. This room was slightly colder than the hallway, but it was peaceful and there was soft music playing from the speaker system that was hooked up somewhere within the walls. I eyed the vending machine curiously, wondering if there was anything of worth in there. I saw some chips and candy bars, feeling a familiar rumble stirring in my stomach. I rummaged through the front pocket of my hoodie, remembering I had stuffed some change into it earlier. I stood up to get a better look at the snacks in the vending machine, counting the change I had in my pocket.

“Great,” I sighed quietly, realizing I only had 75 cents. The cheapest thing in the vending machine was $1.25. I lightly smacked the machine, not really sure of what to do with myself now. I stared at the vending machine for a couple seconds before I heard the sound of footsteps in the room. I turned around just as someone entered. He was looking down at his phone, but he slowly lifted his head once he sensed my presence, his eyes locking with mine. I adverted my gaze, the sight of his messy bed hair and ruffled clothes now etched in my mind.

“Oh, sorry-” he stammered as he locked his phone and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I didn’t realize someone else was here.” His deep voice took precedence over the soft music humming in the background and his presence captured my attention.

“No, no it’s okay. I don’t own this room,” I laughed awkwardly. I wasn’t used to talking to guys that looked like he did. I wasn’t used to talking to guys in general.

“It’s just-” he scratched the back of his neck, as if he was looking for the right words to say. I noticed the way his bare arms flexed with his movements.

“It’s just that, it’s pretty noisy on my floor,” he said with a lazy smile and slight eye roll, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats. I eagerly nodded back, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Yeah, it’s noisy on my floor too. More specifically, the room next to mine,” I laughed humorlessly, leaning against the glass front of the vending machine. The boy threw his head back and sighed, looking at me with a sympathetic smile.

“I’m so sorry they’re in the room next to you,” he said sincerely. Before I could reply, he pointed at the vending machine with a confused expression.

“Am I interrupting you? Were you going to buy something?”

“Oh, no. I- I was thinking about it, but I’m a bit short,” I said, holding up my three quarters. The boy leaned against the wall, his hands again in his pockets as if he were looking for something. I could hear the jingling of loose change. He pulled out a couple quarters and stepped closer to me.

“I can cover for you,” he said politely, cocking his head to the side.

“No, it’s totally okay,” I retorted politely, holding my hands up in defense.

“Are you sure?” He asked, extending his arm and offering me the change. I simply nodded and returned back to the bench, sitting on the side away from the corner.

“I’m positive, but thank you so much for the offer.” The boy simply smiled at me and inserted the coins he was holding.

“Suit yourself,” he stated, looking at the options in the vending machine. He let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

“Hmm, I seem to be having trouble choosing,” he began, turning slightly to face me, “What would you recommend I buy?” I laughed at his adamant efforts, nervously fixing my hair.

“I don’t want you to buy me anything, honestly,” I laughed.

“But, what do you think tastes the best?” He asked, somehow keeping a straight face. I looked down at the floor and playfully shook my head.

“If you really want to know, I guess I’d buy the chocolate covered pretzels, but please don’t buy them because of m-” before I could finish my sentence he had already bought the pretzels. He shuffled over to where I was sitting, his long legs making his journey easy.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asked, his voice dripping like honey.

“No, not at all,” I responded, a bit too quickly, not knowing how to handle myself around him. He sat next to me, where I had previously been sitting in the corner, but he wasn’t so close as to make me uncomfortable. He leaned his back against the wall and opened the bag of pretzels, instantly offering me the some. I took one from the bag and placed my three quarters on his lap. He laughed, brushing the coins off his legs.

“You don’t have to pay me for pretzels.” He placed the change in my lap and I shoved it back into my hoodie pocket. There was no winning with this guy. This guy. Maybe I should get his name.

“Thank you, -?”

“Chanyeol,” he stated as he took a pretzel from the bag. He looked at me as if waiting for a response.

“Y/N,” I replied quietly. He repeated after me, my name easily rolling off his tongue. God, who was I? I had just met this guy. I had to relax. I analyzed our conversation in my head, suddenly remembering that there was a question I wanted to ask him earlier.

“I don’t mean to pry,” I began, my gaze fixed on the floor, “but earlier you said you were sorry about the people in the room next door to mine, as if you were apologizing for their actions. Do you know them?” Chanyeol slowly nodded as he finished chewing his pretzel. I glanced up at him, his eyes now focused on mine.

“I know one of them,” he stated, flashing me a weak grin. I didn’t want to force conversation, but I was curious.

“Can I ask who?”

“My friend- well, bandmate, Baekhyun, is in that room,”

“And his girlfriend…?” Chanyeol looked down at his feet, shaking his head in response.

“Baek doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Chanyeol said, clearing his throat shortly afterwards.

“Oh,” I responded awkwardly, realizing that what was going on in that room wasn’t anything more than a sloppy hookup. I should have figured. Now I just looked stupid. I decided to change the subject before I dug myself an even deeper hole.

“So you two are in a band?” I asked with a smile. Chanyeol slightly nodded, clicking his tongue as if looking for the correct response.

“We’re in a group with a couple of other guys,” he began, “you see, we didn’t put on a good performance tonight,”

“I’m sure you weren’t that bad,” I responded.

“Maybe not,” he began slowly,  “…but Baek thought he screwed everything up.” I suddenly understood what he was saying, letting out a sound of realization.

“What he and that girl are doing… that’s what happens after a bad show?” Chanyeol simply nodded. He probably thought I was a bit of an idiot, but my mind was too busy wondering about other things. If that’s how they took out their frustration after a bad show, I wonder how they celebrated a good show? I clenched my legs at the thought. Chanyeol seemed to notice my shift in demeanor.

“We don’t have to talk about this anymore,” he said as he discarded the empty pretzel bag. I really looked at him, taking in the way the dim lighting bounced off his silky skin and perfectly outlined his tone muscles. His hair was just the right amount of messy and his eyes were a bit droopy due to his tiredness. His tank top hung off of his body and his sweatpants sat just right on his hips, just low enough…

“Why aren’t you with someone tonight?” I whispered, unable to believe that I dared to ask him such a question. Who was I? Chanyeol let out a low chuckle.

“I don’t really know how to answer that,” he began, his gaze flickering down my body, landing on my exposed thighs. “I guess… I am a bit lonely tonight.” I felt my breath hitch at the back of my throat. I shifted my eyes and looked at Chanyeol, knowing that this was a chance I couldn’t let go to waste. But before I could make a move, Chanyeol’s lips had already crashed onto mine, pulling an involuntary moan from me. Chanyeol took this opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, working it against mine. He cradled my head in his large hands, running his thumbs over my jaw and pulling me closer to him. I decided that that wasn’t good enough. I lifted myself from the bench and slowly straddled him, placing a knee on either side of his lap. Chanyeol let out a small moan at the feeling of warmth against his crotch, his hands gripping at the backs of my bare thighs. His lips were once again on mine, the intense kissing bringing a sting to my flesh.

Chanyeol slowly ran his hands under my hoodie and tank top, brushing his calloused fingers against my burning skin. I moaned into the kiss, getting a rise out of every touch he was giving me.

“You’re so responsive,” he panted, his breath fanning over my neck as his lips worked at the soft spot behind my ear. I rested my head in the crook of his neck, tangling my fingers in his hair, tugging at the soft strands,

“Is this okay?” He asked as he trailed down my neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. I could feel his lips curling into a deviant smirk.

“Yes,” I breathed, taking my fingers out of his hair and desperately latching onto his shoulders. Chanyeol ran his tongue over the developing bruises he had given me, soothing the irritated skin. He took the hem of my hoodie in his hands, eyeing me as if asking for permission. I eagerly nodded, too caught up in the moment to think about anything but his hands on my body. Chanyeol removed my hoodie and gingerly brushed my hair out of my face. His lips worked at my newly exposed skin, starting with the soft flesh of my collar bones.

“Chanyeol,” I breathed, my hands wrapping around the back of his neck.

“Hmmm?” He hummed against my skin.

“I’m lonely tonight too,” I stated quietly.

“Yeah?” Chanyeol cooed between kisses as he trailed his lips down to the tops of my breasts that my tank top left exposed. He slowly ran a rough finger up my arm, tugging down the straps of my bra and shirt. Even though Chanyeol was a complete stranger, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see how much I craved him. The heat pooling between my legs was evident to people miles away, and the pressure of Chanyeol’s growing erection against my clothed core was already enough to send me over the edge.

“Chanyeol,” I cried out desperately, “I want you… so badly.” I’m sure that was music to his ears, but he reached out a hand and held my shoulder to still my movements.

“Not here,” he stated, his gaze meeting mine. Obviously I didn’t want to do it here, next to the vending machine where anyone could walk by. I mean, that could be fun, but I just nodded my head, biting my lip to stifle the eager sounds I wanted to make. Chanyeol lifted me from his lap and took my hand in his, leading me up the stairs and down the hall to his room. To my surprise, it was directly across the hall from mine. Chanyeol wasted no time fumbling with the door key like I would’ve, and we were immediately in his room, his foot closing the door behind him.

Without wasting a second, Chanyeol worked his mouth against mine. His lips were undeniably soft and I could feel how swollen they were as my tongue brushed over them. I tugged slightly at Chanyeol’s bottom lip with my teeth, earning a throaty groan from him. He skimmed his fingers down my sides and peeled off my tank top, leaving me in my bra and shorts. I felt his hands run down the back of my thighs as he told me to jump. I did as I was told, my legs straddling Chanyeol’s waist and my back banging against his door. Chanyeol’s lips attacked my neck as he unclasped my bra, letting it fall to the floor. I took this moment to look around at his room. It was far from organized, but it wasn’t terrible. Things from his suitcase were scattered randomly throughout the room. I noticed that he seemed to have fancy things and brand name clothing. Maybe his band was more successful than I had thought? I looked around some more, noticing a pile of what appeared to be gifts by the coffee table. There was a variety of things like stuffed animals, bouquets of flowers, and a literal ton of cards and notes.

My attention was pulled back once Chanyeol’s lips made contact with my nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub. I gasped at the contact, tugging desperately at Chanyeol’s hair, signaling him to continue. He smirked against my skin as he massaged my other breast, his thumb flicking at the hardened bud. I threw my head back against the door, a soft moan falling from my lips. My panties were literally drenched at this point and I moved my hips against Chanyeol’s waist as a desperate attempt to relieve some tension.

“Easy,” he chuckled against my chest as he held my hips still. Chanyeol removed his lips from my breast and walked us over to his bed, gently setting me down on his ruffled white sheets. He hovered over me and I wasted no time, feverishly tugging at the hem of his loose tank top.

“Someone’s eager,” he teased as he grabbed at the collar of his shirt, slowly pulling it over his head. He brought his body closer to mine, allowing me to run my fingers down his firm torso, his hot muscles contracting under my cool touch. Chanyeol teased the waistband of my shorts, brushing his fingers over the skin of my lower stomach.

“Can I take these off?” He asked softly. I could only nod, my body so ready for his touch I was barely able to form words. Chanyeol slowly removed my shorts, his rough fingers grazing over my legs as he did so. He cocked his head and clicked his tongue upon noticing the wetness that had collected in my panties.

“Y/N,” he said as he slowly massaged my thighs, “you’re so wet and I haven’t even touched you properly.” Chanyeol’s words were like velvet, his voice reaching something in me his body couldn’t. As he spoke, he ran his finger down my clothed core, pressing lightly against my clit.

“Chanyeol,” I mewled, spreading my legs further for him as soft moans fell from my lips. Chanyeol slipped his finger under the hem of my underwear, tugging them down my legs and tossing them on the floor. The cool air made contact with my wetness, causing a low groan to escape me. I’d never felt like this before; this fucking needy. My body was literally shaking with anticipation. Chanyeol’s fingers were so long and rough and I knew they would work wonders inside of me. I pulled his fingers closer to me, running them along my soaking slit. Before I could do it for him, Chanyeol inserted two fingers inside of me.

“Shit,” I moaned at the sudden intrusion. After allowing me to adjust, he pumped his fingers into me at a quick pace, curling them perfectly to hit my g-spot. I threw my head back against the pillows, allowing my nails to dig into his forearm.

“More,” I begged, not caring about how disgustingly desperate I sounded. Chanyeol inserted a third finger, deliciously stretching out my walls. I could feel the familiar knot forming in my stomach as Chanyeol’s thumb worked at my clit. I shut my eyes, my lips parting as harsh pants fell from my mouth.

“I can tell you’re close, babe,” Chanyeol stated as he quickened his pace, relentlessly driving his thick fingers into my core. I nodded with a stifled moan, rocking my hips against his skilled fingers, nearing dangerously close to the edge. Chanyeol applied even more pressure on my clit, running his thumb in quick circles. That was all it took. I cried out his name as I came around his fingers, a wave of pleasure washing over my entire body. Chanyeol kept pumping until I was totally spent. He pulled his fingers out of me and brought them to my lips, allowing me to taste myself.

“Good girl,” Chanyeol hummed. He wasted no time in undressing himself, removing his sweatpants and boxers in one fell swoop, his erection slapping against his stomach. Chanyeol was certainly well endowed and if his fingers caused my walls to sting, I knew his dick would fucking destroy me. He gathered the precum that had collected and swirled it around the head of his cock, lubricating himself with his own arousal. He reached into the bedside table and grabbed a condom, opening the package with his teeth and discarding the wrapper. He pulled the condom down his length, hissing as the rubber snapped against his skin.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked as he hovered over me, his large hands gently gripping my hips.

“Do you even have to ask?” I laughed breathlessly, knowing that this was the most I had ever wanted someone. Chanyeol smirked at me as he ran the tip of his cock down my slit, ogling over my wetness. His head brushed over my clit several times, each time pulling an involuntary groan from the back of my throat. Chanyeol bit his lip as he slowly entered me, my wills still sensitive from my last orgasm.

“Fuck, Chanyeol,” I cried out as I looked down at his length buried inside my drenched core. Chanyeol dropped his head into the crook of my neck, his breath fanning over my sweat dampened skin.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted. I gripped onto his shoulder, signalling him to continue, but he refused to move.

“Chanyeol,” I groaned.

“What baby?” He asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. How could he have so much control over himself?

“Please…” I whined.

“Please what?”

“Please, do something,” I cried desperately, bringing my fingers down to my clit to help myself. Chanyeol slapped my hand away and scolded me, a lazy smirk plastered to his face.

“Babe, just tell me what you want me to do.” I was far beyond the point of being embarrassed. I was absolute putty in Chanyeol’s hands and I was fucking desperate for him.

“Please, just fuck me already,” I begged. Just like that, Chanyeol pulled out and rocked his length back into me, his grip on my hips tightening.

“Fuck,” I panted. Chanyeol continued thrusting into me at an even pace, his dick filling my walls just right. I took this time to admire him, the way his hair had fallen in his face and how the sweat had stuck to his skin. I needed more of him.

“Faster,” I barely managed to say. Chanyeol began barreling into me, his hair falling against my neck as he leaned down to suck on my collar bone. His fingertips dug into my hip bones, surely bruising the soft skin. I raked my nails down his back, feeling his muscles twitch under the harsh contact. Chanyeol hissed against my skin, the pain only egging him on. He somehow managed to quicken his pace, his headboard now banging against the wall, my body being pounded into his mattress. The stinging between my legs was excruciating, but for some reason, I fucking loved it. I bit down on my lip, the slight taste of blood mixing with my saliva.   

“Chan-yeol,” I cried, practically able to feel his thrusts hit the back of my throat.

“Hmm,” he grunted against my neck.

“I’m close,” I breathed. Right when he was about to say something, there was a sudden knock at the door. My eyes widened as I felt my body jump out of my skin. I tried to push Chanyeol off of me, but he only slowed inside of me, his hand quickly clamping over my mouth and holding me in place.

“Shhh,” he said, seemingly unphased, “don’t worry, the door’s locked.”

“Chanyeol?” Someone called from the other side, “It’s Sehun, can I come in?”

“I’m about to hop in the shower,” Chanyeol called out as he continued to slowly thrust into me. I moaned into his hand, tasting the sweat that had accumulated on his skin.

“Oh alright, text me if you want to do something later,” the voice responded as I heard footsteps shuffling away. Chanyeol took his hand off of my mouth and pushed my hair out of my face, grinning down at me. He began quickening his pace as if picking up where we had left off before the interruption. His thrusts were painfully deep and he managed to hit my sweet spot every fucking time. I threw my head back, my eyes screwing shut. Chanyeol had turned me into a moaning mess, rendering me totally incoherent.

“I’m- going to-”

“Oh no, not yet baby,” Chanyeol grunted as he sucked harshly at the soft spot behind my ear.

“Just, fuck!” I screamed as I gripped the blanket, tears threatening to spill from my eyes as I struggled to catch my breath. I threaded my fingers through Chanyeol’s hair and harshly tugged at the strands. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my heels into base of his spine, pulling him deeper inside me.

“Fuck,” Chanyeol breathed as he filled me completely, totally bottoming me out. He let out a low, strangled moan, his voice rumbling through my body as he began pounding into me, somehow reaching deeper than before.

“Shit,” I cried out. It hurt. It hurt so fucking good, his thrusts sending electric pulses throughout my body. My entire being was buzzing with the Godly sensation of pain mixing with pleasure.

“Fuck,” I breathed. Chanyeol brought his finger to his mouth, sucking on the tip and running the slick digit over my swollen bundle of nerves. I completely lost it, finally hitting my second high. My walls clenched around Chanyeol as I orgasmed, pulling him over the edge. His thrusts grew sloppy as his breathing became erratic, a string of curses falling from his bruised lips. I felt him twitch inside me, releasing into the condom. He continued thrusting into me a few more times to ride out his high.  

I just laid there, brushing my hair out of my face and attempting to catch my breath. Chanyeol slowly pulled out of me with a low moan. I watched as he pulled the condom off his sensitive cock, hissing at the painful feeling. I looked up at his face, taking in his flushed cheeks and wonderfully swollen lips. My eyes trailed down his body, admiring the way the sweat had accumulated on his skin. Chanyeol reached out towards me and brushed a couple strands of hair out of my face, tucking them behind my ear.

“What are you staring at?” He asked with a devious smirk. I shook my head, feeling embarrassed that he had caught me admiring him. Oh well. Chanyeol pulled on his boxers and handed me the box of tissues from the night stand.

“Thanks,” I said as I went to sit up. I quietly winced at the sudden pain between my legs, deciding to wipe myself off while laying down. I tried to be quiet, not wanting Chanyeol to see me in the state I was in. I immediately discarded the used tissues and tried to stay still. Chanyeol sat next to me, reaching down and running his finger across the bruises he had left on my neck, shaking his head with a sigh.

“Was I too rough with you?” He asked sincerely as he placed his sheets over my body.

“No,” I answered, holding the material over my chest. Chanyeol cocked an eyebrow at me, looking down at my legs.

“Then sit up.” I did as I was told, but the pain between my legs was obvious and it turned simple movements into a fucking hassle.

“I’m just sore,” I admitted as I shrugged my shoulders. I knew he wanted to be sorry, but I could tell he felt accomplished knowing he fucked me so hard I couldn’t even walk right.

“So,” he began quietly, “we’re really not supposed to have girls in our rooms.” Too late. In all honesty, I could take the hint. He wanted me to leave. I didn’t know him at all, and we both got what we wanted, so it didn’t really matter to me.

“Okay, I can go-”

“I don’t want you to leave, though. Plus, it’d be really fucking douchey of me kick you out,” he stated as he handed me one of his t-shirts, a plain black one that would definitely be large on me. He flashed me a smile as he combed his fingers through his hair.

“Are you sure?” I asked. Chanyeol took the shirt he gave me and pulled it over my head.

“I’m positive,” he said with a sweet grin. He laid down next to me and beckoned me to join him. I smiled as I rested my head against his chest, his arm wrapping around my shoulder and his fingers delicately running through my hair. Chanyeol pulled the covers over us, the warmth from his body and the blankets totally engulfing me. I pulled out one of my arms and pointed at the gifts gathered by the coffee table.

“You must have a lot of fans. Just how famous is your band?” Chanyeol took my hand in his and brought it to his lips, softly kissing the back of it. He replied in a sleepy voice,

“We’ll just have to save that story for tomorrow morning.”

anonymous asked:

Are there any recipes that are easy to make yet still very delicious you'd recommend?

oh yes i have a whole list!