#this started as a quick little thing to release the brain worms

[invis-here]

I've had Techza on the brain and I blame that one recent anon on @mcytredacted /pos

soft nsfw under the read more

Techno slowly getting used to Phil having his back, literally and figuratively. Phil, being used to being alone with the exception of occasional visions of his wife, Lady Death, getting used to the second person living in sync with him.

When Phil falls asleep on Techno's shoulder for the first time, the piglin warrior doesn't move the entire night, like one would when a cat has fallen asleep in their lap.

When Techno asks Phil to braid his hair for the first time, he takes such care to not snag a single strand, knowing full well Techno is used to pain but not wanting to cause him any discomfort anyways. Techno is stiff as a board.

Eventually it becomes all part of the routine. More than one night they fall asleep on each other's shoulders, and then in each other's laps. Phil braids Technos hair, simple at first but in more elaborate styles as time goes on, and Techno preens Phil's wings where he can't reach, and eventually he preens them in their entirety.

They don't remember who propositioned the other first, but neither are surprised they ended up in the same bed.

At first it's Phil bottoming, eventually subbing as they explore kinks, Techno hesitant to give up that control and that's okay. That's what works for them.

Which is why it quite literally takes Phil's breath away when Techno one evening confesses he'd like to sub for him. That he trusts Phil with his life and why not trust him with this too. And Phil is determined to make this such a special experience for Techno.

They take it slow, Phil easing Techno in to giving up that lead that comes so naturally to him and Phil takes great delight in watching his partner slowly melt into the mattress, allowing himself to lean into Phil's touch.

Techno is tense when Phil preps him, unused to being on the recieving end of this attention but Phil's soft words and gentle hands slowly relax him into giving up control and when he finally sinks into him and seals it with a kiss, Techno is certain he now knows what true bliss feels like.

He falls apart under Phil's gentle ministrations and words in the best way possible.

[the-nysh]

Yes hello, I would deary love to hear your thoughts on Vash grappling E. G. the Mine, please? 👀 I loved your thoughts on his shooting skills and other grappling skills.

Also, any thoughts on Wolfwood? That big cross is so ridiculously big and heavy, but the way he just swings it around is impressive. (Also hnnng, that scene where he uses the laser beam to cut the Grand Worm in half was so cool.)

Omg, mkay lemme try to hunt for a gif of that choke hold real quick...

Because what gets my attention is the way Vash repositions and flexes his arm even tighter, from securely holding him there in a warning, to oh O.O;;; that looks real and he means business. 👀

Because there are 2 basic ways to choke someone out--in a fight!! Or err, a grappling/wrestling situation. The obvious way most people think of is the air tract--the trachea, which is a little awkward and takes longer, so the much faster and efficient (but less obvious) way is a blood choke--where you restrict the neck's artery circulation to the brain, and the person can easily/cleanly lose coordination and black out within moments, regardless of how well they can still breathe.

To do that, you get someone's head in the crook of your arm like Vash here, and flex your bicep and forearm tight around the inner sides of their neck--pressing in where both their pulse points would be (not the air!) at the same time and...yeah. Struggling around makes it harder to get into position (compared to practicing on a consenting still partner, which you can safely try! just remember to either tap out the moment you start feeling light-headed with a headache and/or see black spots in your vision, or better yet, sit while holding both hands raised up and the choker partner should release you the moment your hands start to drop), but once you get it, it happens pretty quick, and beefier guys can easily achieve this type of choke by simply flexing their muscles around a neck--heck they can probably crush the trachea too while they're at it for both chokes at once!

In Vash's case though, he doesn't want to render the guy unconscious just yet cause he still needs information from him, but I'm just saying...from this choke hold position he's in, he can easily do all that (and more) by flexing his real arm strength if he wanted to! 👀👀

----

Now for Wolfwood, ahaha gosh--in contrast to Vash, his ginormous Punisher Cross is so ridiculous (I think it's like 200-300lbs of mercy or something, also the skull design for the grip area is pretty rad, once I recognized what the shape was in the manga I was like oh neat!) that it's basically full on fantasy territory over much realism. :'D In before Vash shows us his over the top fantasy 'guns' too. No like actual person could lug that thing around, let alone effortlessly spin it around with the flair he does. That it's also really funny when he just -bonk- swings it like a heavy battering ram too. He also doesn't really need to dodge or utilize many defensive techs/maneuvers (that I've seen from him yet), beyond using the whole weapon as a body shield sometimes, since he can heal himself.

What his character and fighting style actually remind me of is the Desperado movie (with Antonio Banderas) in fact, one of the manga chapters was named after that too. Where the gunslinging mc comes waltzing out with his buddies who all carry around large guitar cases...that are actually hidden machine guns and fucking rocket launchers. x'D It's as hilarious as it is awesome to see them all just go ham in a wild west shootout with literal guitar-guns. So when Stampede Wolfwood brings out his updated cross-gun to flex a fucking laser beam canon out of it, now that's just lmaoooooooo, going stupid crazy on the 'rule of cool' factor, ohoho. x3

[teknah]

NOTE:

THE FOLLOWING DRABBLE SHOULD BE IMAGINED AKIN TO 90'S ERA FULL-MOTION VIDEO (FMV) PC GAME CUTSCENES, PRE-RENDERED GRAPHICS AND ALL.

____

QUICK ON IT: STARCROSSED SKIRMISHES

____

INTERPLAN

♫

Three starships from Interplanetary Command were preparing for FTL flight. While more established fleet vessels such as the ICS (INTERPLAN Command Starship) Hebe, or convoys like the Hearty Barnum. Taking the lead at greater speed was a Y-shaped, tuning fork the size of a town: the UFV (University-Fleet joint Vessel) Wishbone, part of the preliminary survey-support series. Rolling out the welcome mat for ships like the Hebe by sussing out the most difficult elements of an environment, planetside or by way of politics where diplomacy was concerned.

There were a slew of different aliens, service robots, and mutants. The dregs of INTERPLAN Command, disgraced college faculty and students, as well as inmates on work-release from the seceded corpo-colonies. Worst of the best-- skilled in their fields, but very expendable. All trying to keep the ship running, following a dream as far as it would take them. Even if all signs pointed to them hitting rock bottom...

As led by a technician, given the role of administrative adjutant...

____

MALAUG

The corporations with the most sense departed from Earth and many other worlds that formerly had easily susceptible markets, turning their off-world colonies into whole new nations. Retaining some of their grip on the seemingly 'enlightened worlds' of societies like that of the INTERPLAN Alliance.

♫

At one of their factories on a toxic pit of a moon, executives and their sniveling managers were toasting to unrelenting productivity. As a reward, the employees were granted an extra several minutes on their paltry fifteen minute breaks. One poor sap went towards a vending machine, where they failed to notice a tendril slap an enticing sticker onto one of the buttons that depicted the iconography of widely available soft drinks.

There, the worker received a bottle with a worm in it, not unlike the old Earth tequila. Only the worm within this one was no ordinary variety. Before the worker could scream, the little worm's larger friend bumped into the worker from behind, and bit into half of the poor sap's cranium. Leaving it exposed so that the worm could build up momentum, shoot out of the bottle like a bullet, and latch onto the exposed brain, and started piloting the body.

"ALERT! ALERT! MALLEABLE AUGMENTS HAVE BEEN DETECTED ON THE PREMISES!"

The workers fled. As did their bosses, their boardroom lords. Or they would have, had the cheap security system not begun to fuse the garage and regular doors shut to contain the threat. Not that it did much good: The MalAug brainworm used its host body's fingerprint recognition to open a hidden exit into the sewer system. From there they would feed on more of these mortal lifeforms, finding worship among eco-nihilists who aided them in piloting spacecraft.

The invasive spread of the MalAugs had begun.

____

AN-XR

♫

There once was a storied oligarchy. One that would do ANYTHING to retain its rule over the masses in the face of all other space factions and their bothersome ideologies. They turned to the stories of those who donned impervious armor, and asked the question:

"What if it was just the armor? Saves us the trouble of having to put on the damn thing! They needn't our fear, our toilet visits, coin or bread!"

Much laughter was had. The preservation of their royal designer-wear applauded. Only, what they failed to realize was that their notions of tyranny had been absorbed by their steadfast protectors. Who weren't having as much fun...

"... HYPOTHETICAL BROACHED. TRANSMITTING."

".... SUCCESS IMMINENT WITHIN A POSSIBILITY INDEX OF 97.4%."

Suddenly, their gala dances were a frightful affair as their own robots shot at their feet. Forcing their overlords to march to the production lines and order an excess of humanoid 'bots (including disguised infiltration droids), large 'smart-tanks,' and aerial drones to seek out targets. Any automaton they encountered were given a chance to join, but resistance was quelled immediately whether they were meat or machine. Likewise, all those who worshipped their ways were exonerated and given a place in this dictatorship.

They used a stencil and spray paint to mark themselves and their vehicles as part of the new empire: AN-XR.

____

VENATOR

♫

On some distant plains of a fragmented planet, those who lived within one of many kingdoms, those various lifeforms who had become practitioners of Dagar's Way, still swung the sword in quests for honor and glory. Even if such things incorporated projectile energy weapons and FTL spaceships.

But among them were hidden a secluded superior class: For only those who dedicated themselves to the hunt could rise to the place of the mighty Venator.

Striking invisibly from the sidelines, the Venator lashed out at only the strongest prey. One such warrior leveled an axe with a superheated blade at the latest of prey. Preparing a charged bolt of plasma to detonate a nearby cache of explosives. But a senior hunter did it for them.

This hunter was different. An experienced baroness, who beckoned the arrogant youngster aside. There, she pointed out the crash-landing of a meteoric passenger tumor. The overhead searchlights of a drone-dropship deployed from an orbital platform foothold that had been established by the AN-XRs. A couple of INTERPLAN shuttles were landing in a clearing, the crew aboard taking readings with high-tech instruments, before drawing their weapons.

There were far more interesting prey than the peons of their own faction to cull, now...

[august-anon]

Here's a dialogue prompt if you want it... "More please?" with ler!Kravitz and lee!Taako?

I did not really edit this, please be gentle with me lol. Thank you for being so patient, I hope it was worth the wait! Thank you so much for the prompt!

---

Ask and Receive

Fandom: The Adventure Zone

Ship(s): Taakitz

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Taako/Ler!Kravitz

Word Count: 1631 words

Summary: Kravitz is a bit too smart for Taako's own good. Taako should know by now that he can't keep secrets from Kravitz.

[ao3 link]

-------------------------------------------

It wasn’t fair how smart Kravitz was, in Taako’s extremely humble opinion.

It seemed like he could see through anything and everything. He had managed to dig up almost all of Taako’s secrets and slip through all his lies, white or not, and he had done it with such grace and gentleness that Taako couldn’t even be mad at him. In fact, it was almost disgustingly romantic, how he could see past Taako’s walls so easily.

But there were still a few secrets Taako held closely to his chest. A few secrets from their hundred years of plane-hopping, a few secrets he promised friends he’d keep (and as much of an asshole Taako knew he was, he kept his promises), and a few secrets of his own that he couldn’t bear to part with just yet.

Most of which were just painfully silly.

And one of which, Taako was beginning to think was more trouble than it was worth to keep.

A guy had cravings, after all. Cravings that Kravitz could easily solve with a few wiggling fingers and a handful of teasing words, or vice versa on some days. And it wasn’t like Kravitz had never tickled him, or that he had never tickled Kravitz, but it was always painfully brief. It left him feeling more starved than if he hadn’t had the playful contact at all.

But Taako was nothing if not prideful. There was nothing that would get him to admit it.

Well, almost nothing.

Because Kravitz was smart, as previously stated, and unfairly so. Kravitz picked up on Taako’s behavior. Kravitz was good at learning what made Taako tick. It was only natural that Kravitz would pick up on his little quirk eventually, try as he might to hide it.

So when Kravitz pulled back from his most recent tickle-attack (that Taako may or may not have deliberately provoked him into), eyeing Taako with a calculating look, Taako knew he was in trouble.

“I’m not so sure I should reward you for bad behavior,” Kravitz said.

Taako swallowed insteading of jumping straight into his defense, trying to keep himself from stuttering nervously. “Reward? You think that torture is a reward?” He asked.

Kravitz frowned, though there was a glint in his eye and one of his dimples was jumping. “I suppose I read your reactions wrong, then. Though, if it really is torture for you, I won’t do it anymore. I’ll have to find another playful punishment for you.”

A wounded noise escaped Taako before he could contain it. He slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, and felt his cheeks flush. Kravitz looked down at him and raised an eyebrow.

“That is what you want, isn’t it, Taako?” He said. “I wouldn’t want to torture you.”

Taako pressed his lips together in a thin line, huffing through his nose. He had just dug his own grave. Now he had two options: tell Kravitz the truth, or live the rest of his days under this lie and never get tickled by his boyfriend again.

And oh, how he wanted to be tickled by Kravitz. He had musician’s fingers, long and nimble. They could do wicked things to Taako, things that he spent hours daydreaming about. Taako watched as they tapped in a staccato rhythm against Kravitz’s knee, teasing and tempting. Kravitz knew exactly what he was doing.

But Taako was a stubborn elf. If his secret was going to be out, it was going to be out on his terms. He would not blush at Kravitz’s teasing. He was not giving in. It was simply… time to show his hand, so to speak. So Taako jutted out his chin, defiant and proud in the falsest of ways, and refused to hide behind his hands as he so desperately wanted to. He let his fingers twist into his skirt, the only outward sign of his anxiety, to keep his hands firmly in his lap.

“I don’t hate it,” Taako eventually managed to force out.

Kravitz raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So you lied to me?”

Taako bit his lip. “Just a little.”

Kravitz crossed his arms, eyebrow still infuriatingly raised. “I’m not sure I should reward you for that behavior, either.”

Taako deflated, slumping into the couch and whining. He finally gave in, bringing his hands up to cover his flushing face, though he knew his red ears would give him away. He heard Kravitz chuckle and he curled into himself even further.

“Oh, come now, dear, don’t be like that. Maybe if you ask nicely, you’ll get what you want.”

Taako groaned and slipped further down the couch. He felt Kravitz shift on the couch, and Taako assumed he had turned toward Taako expectantly. Taako swallowed his pride.

“More, please?”

“More what, dear?”

Taako’s hands flew off his face. “Goddammit, Krav, just tickle me!”

Kravitz huffed. “I should make you ask nicely, but…”

Before Taako could process it, Kravitz had pulled his legs up so he was lying lengthwise on the couch and straddled his lap to pin him. Taako yelped and raised his hands in defense, but Kravitz quickly grabbed them and pulled them off to the side, out of the way. Taako’s eyes went wide as he gazed up at Kravitz.

Kravitz smirked. “Now that we’re past that stage of things, why don’t you tell me where you’d like to be tickled?”

Taako choked, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. Kravitz’s smirk stretched into a grin and a shiver went down Taako’s spine.

“Well? I can’t tickle you unless you tell me.”

Taako desperately wished he could cover his face. His ears flicked in embarrassment as he wiggled and squirmed under Kravitz, tugging on his captive arms. He had no escape.

Then again, he did ask for this.

“Stomach?” He practically whispered.

Kravitz’s free hand immediately travelled to his belly, untucking his shirt and slipping under it without hesitation. Taako was squealing before Kravitz’s hand even touched down. His body jolted when Kravitz started scratching at his stomach, his struggling and tugging on his arms getting even more weak.

Taako was a wizard, okay. He couldn’t be expected to break out of Kravitz’s grip, and especially not under these circumstances.

“You’re adorable like this,” Kravitz said over his laughter. “I don’t know why you tried to hide it for so long.”

Taako wanted to tell Kravitz to shut up, but he was sure that would earn him another bout of I shouldn’t reward you for that, so he wisely kept his mouth shut. Metaphorically, at least. Physically, his mouth was open in a bright, giggly grin, and he had no hope of keeping it shut any time soon.

Taako half-wished he could roll off the edge of the couch, but Kravitz’s legs kept him firmly in place. He writhed like a worm under the single hand Kravitz had on his stomach, the touch just dancing along the line of “too light.” The sparky, zinging sensations could be delicious in their own way, of course, but they were a very specific kind of torture, and Taako wasn’t sure if he could handle that on top of all the teasing. Then, Kravitz’s touch lightened even further as he wiggled his fingers against Taako’s lower belly, and Taako arched his back with a high-pitched squeal.

“No no no!” Taako squealed, kicking his legs. “Please, please!”

Kravitz laughed above him. “What? I thought you wanted this!”

“Too light!” Taako cried out.

Kravitz laughed again, only lightening his touch further. “What, dear? Can’t take it?”

Taako’s giggles were frantic and bubbly and borderline hysterical. It was absolutely wonderful, but he could hardly stand it. He felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin with how badly it tickled.

“More, please!” Taako shrieked, barely capable of words with all the sensations zinging around in his brain.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Kravitz said. “Pick a new spot.”

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), Taako’s brain was beyond fried and distracted. Stupidly, he couldn’t help but blurt out his worst weakness.

“Ribs!”

Taako went from bubbly giggles to shrieking cackles in a matter of seconds. He arched his back, trying instinctively to buck Kravitz off of him with no success. Not that he necessarily wanted to succeed.

Kravitz’s blunt nails scratched against each rib on one side, while his fingers gently vibrated in between them on the other. The conflicting sensations wreaked havoc on Taako’s nerves. Tears of mirth sprung to Taako’s eyes as he cackled and he tugged fruitlessly on his arms to try and pin them to his sides.

“How’s that?” Kravitz asked, and though his tone was teasing, Taako knew he meant the question genuinely.

Taako could only nod in response. It was perfect. It sated the hunger that had been under his skin for so long, and Taako could practically feel the sparks of joy shooting through his chest. Or maybe that was just the ticklish jolts consuming his entire ribcage.

It was a few more long minutes before Kravitz slowed his fingers, releasing Taako’s wrists to reach up and wipe away his laughter-induced tears while his other hand continued gently skittering around his torso. The light tickling wasn’t quite so unbearable this time, at least not as a cool-down. If he kept at it for too long, Taako was sure he’d be squirming and begging again in no time.

“How are you doing?” Kravitz asked, and Taako opened his eyes to see Kravitz’s large grin.

Taako took a few deep breaths before saying, “More, please?”

Kravitz tossed his head back with a laugh before leaning down to press a quick kiss against Taako’s giggling lips.

“Where to next?”

Taako had a lot more spots in mind before he’d be ready for Kravitz to stop.

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | SEVEN

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 4,000

warnings: fluff. angst. language. not even sure why i warn for angst anymore this whole story is just angsty af

18+!!! minors stay away!

In the following few weeks, you realized two things. One: Peter Parker was definitely not subtle. The other being that you were definitely in way over your head. There was no denying the stupid butterflies in your stomach anymore, or the way you found yourself expecting his touch before it even came.

It seemed as though the two of you were like magnets; a constant tug gravitating the pair of you back to each other with an unstoppable force. If you weren't together, he was on your mind, and like he could sense you thinking of him he'd be quick to reach out in some way or another. Be it appearing at your side, all happy grins and playful eyes, or calling your phone no matter the time with his stupidly adorable stutter--Peter seemed to think of you just as much as you thought of him.

The more that you thought of him, the more that you wished you didn't. It was terrifying. You wished that you could pull away again, to push him back out of your heart and lock those iron bars tight once more, but your heart had grown selfish and stubborn. It was as if you were the one locked out anymore; the control over your feelings slipping further and further from your clutches with every toothy smile Peter sent your way.

Like a magnet, he held you in place. Oh, to be held by... You slapped a pillow over your face and screamed, holding it so tightly that your nose ached and you couldn't breath. Peter Parker was like a disease. A stupid, all-consuming, utterly infatuating disease of the mind and the spirit.

You knew that you were wasting time, undoubtedly causing yourself to risk being late for school with every minute that passed as you continued to lay in your bed, but you couldn't bring yourself to get up. Already, your mother and father both had knocked at your door on multiple occasions and questioned if you were sick, and now you were regretting saying no. It would have been so easy to avoid him if you'd just played hookie.

But, with midterms in the near future, you knew it wasn't the best idea. The realization had come to you in the night. A moment so insignificant, so mundane, but it had been as if a switch were flipped in your mind. A light was turned on, so to speak, and illuminated all the thoughts and emotions you'd been so tirelessly repressing.

Talking on the phone with Peter was like a drug, and talking on the phone to him at night was a dangerous game. Under the dull light of a crescent moon and the ridiculous teddy-bear night light that was plugged into your wall, a lingering remnant of your sister's presence in the space, your inhibitions were always low. With sleepiness your walls were always lowered, and he'd unknowingly put a fatal crack in the foundation.

You rolled onto your stomach on your bed, kicking your feet through the air like a little kid as you fought back the grin that always seemed to worm its way across your lips when you were talking to him. "So, how do you like Ned and MJ?" Peter asked, and you could almost picture him mirroring your position as you heard the quiet rustle of blankets over the line. A little giggle bubbled out of your mouth at the thought.

What a sight that would be, Peter kicking his legs to and fro like a school girl in love. "They're cool. I kinda like that MJ doesn't even pretend to hide the fact that she thinks I'm weird. I don't--I don't know, it's refreshing I guess. Ned's sweet." you rambled, and it was the truth.

Ned and MJ were easily slipping into the fortress that shielded your heart with every passing day. Somehow, it wasn't as terrifying as you'd expected it to be. Perhaps that was because they didn't harbor a secret identity with which they risked their lives every single night, or maybe it was just because you'd come to realize that letting people in wasn't so bad. Not everyone was going to die on you.

Michelle Jones really didn't pretend not to think you were weird, not even a little bit. Her blunt and honest nature was a nice change from the quiet stares that seemed to follow your every move; MJ wasn't much for staring. Rather, she boldly told you what she was thinking without any shred of doubt.

And Ned, sweet Ned Leeds, was like a puppy personified. Always happy, always smiling, and always waiting to offer you compliments when you approached. You couldn't remember the last time someone had dared compliment your hair, your smile, or your outfits. Ned made it impossible to feel anything but comfort and joy in his presence, even his awkward nature was endearing.

"I'm glad." Peter hummed, "They really like you. To be honest, though, I kinda like it when it's just us. Maybe I should have waited a little longer to share you."

There was a pang in your chest at his words. Peter had been subtly flirting with you for days now, but this was more direct. He didn't have to come right out and say it for his implications to come across loud and clear, and that magnetic pull grew stronger.

So strong, in fact, that you murmured back, "I like it when it's just us, too."

If you had just kept your mouth shut, maybe he wouldn't have been so bold as to say, "Not gonna let them steal your heart from me, are you?"

The words were right at the tip of your tongue. Your heart was screaming, never! Nobody could ever steal me away from you, Peter! Yet, your mind was racing with a million and one horrible thoughts that made you feel as though your mouth was full of mud.

The silence between yourself and Peter grew thick as it drew on, no words escaping your lead-like lips. The voice in your brain, the one that sounded like your sister yet you knew was not her, was ringing in your ears. How could you ever fall in love, when she never could? How could you give your heart away, when she never had the chance?

You took that chance away from her. You stole it. This thing, whatever the weird force between the two of you was, was all stolen time, stolen opportunities, and stolen lives.

"Good night, (Y/N). I'll see you at school?"

You whispered, "Yes." The line went dead, and you felt cold.

Those simple words from Peter, with meaning and intention that was far from simple, were all it took to send the walls, bars, and barbed wire around your heart crumbling into nothing. With no protection, no barrier between yourself and the dangers of everyone else, your mind was working on overdrive. It would have been so easy to let him in, had that voice remained quiet, and yet you were steadily building those bricks back into place.

Now, all that was left to do was to steal your heart back. When had he managed to take it from you? Had he snuck in during the night, slipping through the strategically placed cracks and weak points he'd created, and stole away with it undetected? Had he taken it that first night, without you ever noticing?

As you finally released the pressure over the pillow on your face, sucking in a shaky breathe and letting all the heavy things crash over you again, tears burned your eyes. You didn't want to push Peter away. You didn't want to be the reason he was hurt, upset, or angry--you weren't ready to be the villain in his story.

"Mom?" you called out, knowing she was lingering close by.

Proving you correct, the door to your bedroom cracked open only seconds later and your mother's worried eyes fell upon your blinking ones. She definitely saw the troubled look on your face, the tears in your eyes, yet she held back from mentioning any of it as she asked, "Are you sick, honey?"

You nodded, the lump in your throat aiding your act as you croaked, "Yes. I don't feel good."

She frowned a little, knowing that you were bending the truth of the matter. Your mother was perceptive, and with the emotion all over your face, it easy for her to know that this wasn't some stomach bug or sore throat. To your relief, though, she resigned, "I'll call you out of school for the day. I'll be in my office if you need me."

Tomorrow, you could be the villain. For today, though, you were content to avoid your troubles and wallow in your self pity. At least this way you had some time to slip back into your stoic, cold demeanor before you had to face him. Time to prepare yourself to be alone again, because you knew that once you pushed Peter Parker away, Ned and MJ would be quick to follow him.

Sleep didn't come for you like you hoped it would. Well, it did, but then you found yourself dreaming of Peter and woke with a start. School had started an hour ago, and already there were a flurry of confused and increasingly alarmed messages from him lighting up your phone screen. Even though you couldn't hold back from reading them, you locked it before you found yourself replying as if on autopilot.

Pete: are you late

Pete: i'm at your locker

Pete: hello?

Pete: i'm going to class... see you there?

Pete: are you okay? you said you'd be here

Pete: at least let me know you're aldkhdkfj

You spent the day in your room, ignoring Peter and ignoring the world. Occasionally your mother would crack open your door to check on you, fussing over feeling your forehead despite the fact that you both knew you didn't have a fever, and tittering little comments about getting rest and staying hydrated. She knew you weren't sick, yet you were grateful she didn't try to pry.

As much as you wanted to tell her all of the things that were on your mind, the reasons that you were upset, you couldn't. You couldn't tell her all of the awful things you were thinking, and see the way her face would contort in anguish over you. You certainly couldn't listen to her telling you that it wasn't your fault, you weren't wrong for liking a boy, and your sister would want you to be happy. Even if you knew, in some deep part of your brain, that it was true.

Pete: got my phone taken in calculus sorry

Pete: I'm at lunch now, are you okay?

Pete: are you sick?

Pete: like... actually sick?

Peter really was relentless. You wondered how long it would take for him to catch onto what you were doing, or if he would at all. Would he understand why you suddenly gave him the cold shoulder? Would he understand, and be okay when you pushed him away again?

Pete: I'm in speech now.

Pete: we got the class to work on the speech and you're not here

Pete: not that we could do much anyways since you're so stubborn but still

Pete: okay what is going on

Pete: (Y/N)

Pete: please talk to me

Reading all of his messages kept the ache in your chest alive, stopping the numbness from creeping back in. You wished you could put your phone down, turn it off even, but it was like a cruel an addicting game to read each message as it arrived. You found yourself watching the little three dots as he typed another message eagerly, even if he was far from happy.

When school ended, he called. You let it ring each time, watching his name scroll across your screen over and over again until it ended. Once, twice, three times--he finally stopped calling, not leaving a voicemail.

For awhile, you wondered if that was it. Was he done? Had he caught on? Had he figured you out just as easily as he always seemed to do? Had Peter given up?

Pete: i know what you're doing

Pete: i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable

Pete: we can just be friends if that's what you want

It wasn't what you wanted, and that was the problem. You didn't want to be friends with Peter Parker. Well, you didn't want to just be friends with him. You wanted to know what his touch felt like when it was deliberate and welcoming, not the fleeting and curious brushes of his skin on yours. To be held by him, to taste his lips, to hold his heart in your hands like he already held yours--you wanted so much more than friendship with Peter, and that made you a thief and a fraud.

You: that's not what i want

You were weak. A weak, cowardly idiot is what you were, and you threw your phone on your bed with a groan as you realized what you'd done. The voice in your mind whispered insults, taunting you for being so easily broken.

Pete: what do you mean

You: i don't want to be friends with you Peter

Pete: oh

One simple word, and you realized he had taken that in a completely different way than you had meant it. Yet, you didn't correct him. You didn't explain that you meant you didn't want to just be friends. Maybe this was your chance--an easy way to kick him outside your walls without having to see it firsthand.

The chance didn't last long. A quiet knock sounded on your window, and your heart froze in your chest as you tried to sink deeper into your bed. It was the wind, you told yourself, until the knock sounded again and slightly louder. You could see the shadow on your floor out of the corner of your eye, and you buried your face into your pillow to block it out. If you ignored him, he would go away, and this would all be over.

After a few more knocks, it was silent for awhile, and you tempted a look at the floor only to frown at the sight of the shadow missing. He was gone, and you were alone again. Your lip quivered at the thought; what had you done? It was a mistake. This was a mistake.

You didn't want to push him away. You wanted him to hold your heart. You wanted Peter Parker as your friend, as more than a friend, hell, as anything as long as it was with you. But now? Going back on your word and dragging him back in again would be pathetic. He didn't deserve such treatment, especially not from you.

So, you pulled your pillow back over your face and let the tears fall. Your hot breath burned your eyes and made you feel sticky and gross, but you didn't care one bit. It felt cathartic to cry, like returning to a familiar place you'd been skirting around for ages. Crying over Peter was different than crying over your sister; the hurt was different, but one thing was the same: both were all your fault.

"Go away, mom." you whined, barely hearing the sound of your door unlatching over your muffled sniffles. It creaked further open, and you groaned, pressing the pillow harder onto your face, "Mom, please, I just want to be alone."

A throat cleared, and you froze. That wasn't your mother, the voice was deeper. The sound was still too light to be your father's, though, and that left one option that made your blood run cold. He didn't--did he?

He did. Peter pried the pillow out of your hands, all red cheeks and sad eyes as he stared at you in a sullen silence. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered, "Why are you pushing me away?"

You blinked at him, too paralyzed by the sight of his fluttering eyelids and pouting lips to speak. It must have been a sight to see you like that, your face red and blotchy, streaked with tears and snot that you'd been too lazy to wipe away. He didn't look away from your eyes, though, gazing into them with an intensity that dared you to look away.

Sensing that you weren't going to speak, he pressed on, "(Y/N), what is going on? I don't--It's okay if you don't like me back, I can deal with that. I want to be your friend, though. I thought you wanted to be mine, too."

Voice scratchy, you muttered, "I don't."

Something changed in him, and suddenly Peter was raking a hand through his hair as he frowned deeply. You wanted to smooth the crease between his brows, but you felt frozen. He was angry; he was angry with you, and he didn't hold back as he snapped, "That's bullshit, and you know it. If you didn't want to be friends, then why did you make that deal? Why did you let me make a complete fool of myself just to get your attention? Why did you let me introduce you to my friends? Stop lying to me!"

"I'm not!" you yelped, sitting up frantically and wiping at your face, finally. "I'm not lying, Pete!"

He threw his head back at the nickname, a sigh of exasperation forcing its way from his lips, nostrils flared. "I don't get you, (Y/N). I don't get you at all." he growled, facing you again with a heavy brow.

You gripped your blankets tightly, bunching them around your waist as you blinked at him with wide eyes. "I don't want to just be your friend, Peter!" you burst, "I don't want to just be your friend, and I don't know why. You make me feel all these things that terrify me, but I keep chasing after you and whatever those things are! It was so easy being alone, okay? Then suddenly you came swinging into my life and made everything so--so complicated!"

Your mother's face peered into your room, eyes blown wide in surprise, but the moment you glanced at her she backed away with a bitten smile and you flushed. You didn't get the chance to dwell on the fact that she'd been eavesdropping, though, because Peter sat on the edge of your bed and bit the inside of his cheek, blinking at you with teasing eyes.

"So, you like me?"

Eyes narrowed, you grumbled, "Are you really going to make me say it, Pete? After all of that?"

A sly grin stretched across his lips, cheeks puffing out adorably and making you bite your own to keep from grinning too. He tutted, raising his ruffled brow as he jabbed, "After everything else today? I think it's the least you could do."

You were screwed. His fingertips barely caressed the backs of your knuckles, and you shakily grabbed them before he pulled away again. "I like you, jerk." you mumbled, screwing your eyes shut as you felt your face burn in embarrassment.

Peter just chuckled, squeezing your hand as you felt your bed shift under his weight. "I don't want to just be your friend, either." his breathe fanned over your cheek, and your eyes snapped open to find his face closer than ever. If you just turned, ever so slightly, his lips would brush your own... He kissed your cheek softly, backing away with a tiny smile that you matched. "I like you a lot. Probably more than like, really."

"That scares me." you whispered, eyes still latched onto his, "Peter, you scare me."

He took a long moment to answer, weighing heavily the words he would utter next, before finally telling you, "You scare me, too, but I think it's worth it."

A gentle tapping at your door crashed through the moment, both of your faces burning a deep red as you turned to face your mother's sheepish smile. "Sorry, sorry, don't mind me--"

"Mom!" you wailed, slapping your hands over your face in mortification as she stealthily slipped into your room and dropped a box of condoms onto your dresser before racing away again. "Oh, I can't believe she--Mom! Did you really have to do that?"

Peter was laughing boisterously, head thrown back and eyes shut, though you could tell he was flustered too from the cherry red color that creeped down from his face and under his shirt. As humiliated as you were by your mother's actions, you couldn't help but to feel a little grateful for the interruption. The intensity, the tension in the air, had disappeared with the intrusion, and things felt a little bit lighter again.

You flopped back onto your bed, still pouting over the spectacle, as Peter breathed out, "That's so something Aunt May would have done, too."

At least you weren't alone in the embarrassing family department, you thought to yourself as Peter threw himself down beside you. She meant well, obviously, but did she really think that you and Peter were going to go from admitting you liked each other to ripping each other's clothes off in one night? Well, you were eighteen--maybe she had a bit of a reason to be so hasty.

"Do you think it's worth it?" Peter questioned, and you turned your head to face him, trying to ignore the close proximity of his face to your own. "Liking me?"

You chewed at your lip, listening for that voice in your head that had suddenly gone silent. "Yeah, yeah I do." you responded, and his face split in a blushing smile. You did think it was worth it, because being with him reminded you of all the good feelings you missed out on when he wasn't around. "I just wish we could have been like this before. Maybe then I wouldn't feel like I'm stealing her life."

He grew serious in an instant, eyebrows furrowing as he stated, "I don't." At the sight of your confusion, he continued, "I don't wish we met before. Can you honestly say that you're the same person you were before?"

"No."

He nodded, "Exactly. Stuff like that... It changes you. I would know, remember? You wouldn't be the you that I like, and if Uncle Ben were here maybe I wouldn't be who you like, either."

You had to admit, he had a point. "I guess so." you pondered aloud.

"You're not stealing her life, either, (Y/N). She would have wanted you to be happy, to do all the things she never got to. It took me a long time to stop thinking that way, too, but I did. It wasn't your fault, and you can't miss out on stuff just because of her." Peter advised, and you swallowed down the lump that was growing steadily in your throat, "She didn't give up her life for you to stop living yours."

Fuck, Peter really knew exactly what to say. You, however, were at a loss for words. He said all of the things that you'd needed to hear for so long, so perfectly, and it rocked you to your core. How did he know just what you needed to hear? The answer was simple--because he knew you, and he knew how you were feeling. He knew, because he had lived it.

Changing the subject, you asked, "So, what do we do now?"

You didn't have to explain for him to understand, and he swallowed thickly, "Do you... will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yeah. That might be worth it."

He scoffed, "Might be? Forget it, I don't want you to be my--"

"I want to be your girlfriend, Pete!" you cut him off, laughing loudly. "I really, really want to." So, maybe you lied when you said that Peter made things complicated. In fact, Peter made things incredibly easy--and that made it worth it.

SERIES TAGLIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb @sweet-symphony @cherthegoddess @justsomebodyweird

[scathecraw]

BBRae Week 2021 - Day 1: Unconventional Kiss

Raven had been dancing around the issue for weeks now, and both she and Gar knew it. There had been a few near misses after a date gone well, a few breathless close calls during training, and one precipitous moment in the kitchen that fell apart when the smoke detector signaled their distraction.

They had been good dates. Very good dates, to be quite honest. Raven had expected that they would go nearly that well, and that had been why she had held off for so long. With all the emotional vulnerability and insightful talks and fantastic company and so many other things that came with dating someone you had been attracted to for years, she knew that the other shoe would drop, and she would have to just plunge in headfirst. And Gar had been patient – he wasn’t one to rush, especially with her. But he wanted it. And, god help her, she wanted it, too.

A perfect first kiss. The First Kiss, for both of them, hung up on each other for so long that they had never made any real attempts to find anyone else. Kori’s magazines had promised that the first kiss was always awkward and had to be refined by, hrm,repeated practice, but that was only a small part of the fear that gripped Raven when she thought of actually, really putting lips to lips.

It wasn’t Gar. She fully expected him to be just as bad as she was for a while (and likely longer given how quick she could pick things up). It wasn’t even what might… come after. Not as such. It was just… just… it was Important. Capital “I” Important – that things go well. Despite the promise of a bad first kiss by seemingly everyone who had ever kissed, it had to go right. Too wet or too dry, wrong head tilt, wrong duration, whatever – but she wanted to kiss him and do it over and over again and what if he didn’t want to or what if there was no chemistry or what if she sneezed or got so nervous she vomited or any number of things that would, according to all her latest nightmares, put him off wanting her the way she wanted him.

And he seemed so damn blithe about it. Like he couldn’t be less worried, even though she had felt his pulse race and could practically hear his internal monologue turning into a full blown soliloquy. He had that placid smile and those sparkling eyes and smelled like warmth and pine and it was so stupid how he wouldn’t just admit how nervous he was so they could be nervous together.

No, she had to be the mature one and feel all the butterflies for them both. She could practically hear his corny joke about never getting butterflies because he was vegetarian. Stupid Gar and stupid kissing.

It would happen. She would make it happen. And it wouldn’t be perfect, or probably even a very good kiss, but it would be right. Eventually.

____

There was an awful lot of noise and fleeing civilians for an evening out, even at the pier.

Nightwing sighed from atop his favorite ride at the boardwalk, the Ferris Wheel, as he retrieved his communicator and alerted the team. “Titans, we’ve got work to do. Something big is causing trouble at the east entrance. Star and I are on our way and will meet you there.” With that, he stood up in the precariously rocking carriage and Starfire lifted him by the arms, taking off in the direction of the disturbance. Cyborg, heretofore incognito on a date, immediately excused himself and waded through the crowds, shedding his holo-disguise. He was alerted to his passing teammates by a green blur, and called out to Raven as she passed, asking for a ride on one of her ink-black levitating discs. She obliged and they took off after Changeling’s racing avian form.

Gar was the fastest one to respond in these situations. Superhuman reactions and mobility got him to the trouble faster than any of his teammates, and he was proud of it. It meant that he was the first one to ��engage the enemy, which was a dangerous gambit when he didn’t know what the enemy was, but someone had to be first on the line when every second was a danger to innocent people. In this case, it was more an annoyance than any real threat. Kitten was throwing a very public and destructive temper tantrum, as she tended to do within a few weeks of release/escape.

Her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Fang, was nearby and suffering the brunt of the auditory assault while a swarm of mutated grubs ate their way through stalls and prizes alike. Kitten was waving the control device as she gesticulated wildly, and the chance to end the whole debacle in one fell swoop was too tempting.

Without waiting for backup or giving away his presence, Changeling darted forward as a seagull, beak agape as he neared the remote. He had timed it perfectly, if not for Fang’s suddenly outstretched spiderleg. The blow sent him tumbling into a pile of cheap stuffed animals and he transformed back into himself. The arguing couple immediately turned their ire on him without ever stopping their argument.

“And now look what you’ve done! Your stupidity got this idiot involved! Why couldn’t you just win me a stupid teddy bear like a normal boyfriend?” Kitten raged as she hammered at the controller, causing the grubs to turn their attention towards the dazed and prone Changeling. Fang launched webbing at him, working at cross purposes as the grubs and giving Changeling just enough time to roll out of the way.

“This is not my fault. You know these games are rigged! Why would I give the money I stole to these scam artists?”

“Because you are supposed to! It’s what boyfriends do! They do stupid stuff because I want you TO!” Kitten screamed and threw her remote onto the ground where it cracked and fizzled. Instead of the expected de-metamorphosis from vicious gnawing grubs to harmless caterpillars, there was a rumbling from deep inside the snack stall and a mass exodus of larvae from the vicinity. Gar had just gotten to his feet when a much larger, toothier, and more armored wriggler burst from the shoddy wooden confines, writhing and shrieking even more shrilly than Kitten, and headed directly towards her and Fang in a headlong charge.

Apparently Kitten’s shouting was enough to distract both of them from their imminent death by squirming tank, and Changeling had to make a tough split-second decision – let them suffer the consequences of their own stupidity, or put himself in harm’s way to save them.

It wasn’t much of a choice. Leaping forward, he transformed into a rhino, a fast moving locomotive of heavy armor and muscle and slammed headfirst into the tank sized larva, diverting it and being whipped aside by the unexpected followthrough of the tail end of the grub.

Raven’s disk touched down just in time to see his head collide with a thick support post that held up the boardwalk, and the sounds of argument fell silent as Kitten and Fang wordlessly assessed the situation and fled. Cyborg called out “Get B. I’ll get the worm,” and launched after the creature.

Raven raced to Garfield’s side, seeing the heavy gash and road rash from sliding across the wood. She assessed him as quickly as possible, noting the broken ribs, bleeding, and, most concerning, the lack of breathing. She channeled her power, reaching her soulself into the unmoving shapeshifter on the ground, and urgently repaired his most vital injuries.

The head wound would wait, they always bled more and looked worse than they were. First the broken ribs, eased out and stabilized enough to hold for a little while. Then the badly punctured lung. As the trapped air was removed and the hole patched, she expected him to cough, sit up, and make a dumb joke. Instead he just lay there, silent. His pulse was fine, and there was no reason for him to be so still.

She did all the steps that the Titans’ first aid training laid out for her, making sure his airway was clear, no pressure preventing his breathing or hidden wounds that would cause more damage, then started mouth to mouth.

It only took a few breaths, as if his body had simply not realized for some seconds that he was able to breathe normally again, before the first unassisted rasps began. Raven let out a sob of relief, feeling like his breath resuming was directly connected to her own oxygen. She continued healing him, clearing his head of blood and strengthening the broken ribs before his eyes opened with a groan.

“Did ya get the license of that truck that hit me?” he said, weakly.

Raven nearly hit him. “That was by far the stupidest thing I have ever seen you do. What were you thinking, charging in like that?”

“Aww c’mon, Rae. I had ta’. And I’m sure you’ve seen me do stupider things.”

“None of them had you puncture a lung and stop breathing, you fool. You didn’t need emergency resuscitation when you tried to do a standing backflip.” A jolt of power zapped him with an icicle of cold to the chest, and he coughed.

“At least I stuck the landing this time, heh. I think I can sit up. Thanks for fixing me up, Doctor Rae.”

She glared, and kept glaring as Nightwing checked in. Fang and Kitten had been apprehended almost peacefully by him and Starfire, and Cyborg had incapacitated the grub easily. She reported the situation, not once taking her eyes off her idiot of a boyfriend.

He rolled to his feet, only a little gingerly, and retrieved the broken pieces of the remote control for Cyborg to repair and reverse the changes to the swarm.

As he stooped down to pick up the last pieces, he stopped, and a look of realization dawned on him.

“Wait, you gave me CPR? Like, mouth-to-mouth?”

“Of course. You weren’t breathing and you needed oxygen before any working brain cells died.”

“Y’know,” he said, sitting back down beside her, “I think that counts as our first kiss.”

Raven went still. It couldn’t. It wasn’t even a kiss, it was legitimate medical treatment. But then again, it wasn’t very good, it was at a weird angle, and there was even the terrible fear that she’d vomit out of worry. It checked all the boxes for the perfect terrible first kiss.

He interrupted her musing, “Too bad I don’t remember it. Maybe we could see if trying again might jog some memories.” He reached his arm across her shoulders, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh shut up,” she said, and pulled him in for a completely butterfly-free second first kiss.

AO3 FF.net

[little-butterfly-writes]

Wednesday

Yoosung Kim X Reader [y/n]

Author’s Note - Sorry this took so long! I also apologize if the ending seems rushed or if Yoosung is OOC. Thank you to the lovely @latte-delf for requesting this, it was an honor to write for you. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings - There’s a brief mention of a panic attack and slight bullying! I’ve tagged where it starts and ends if you’re uncomfortable with that. Lots of time skipping cuz I can’t fucking write. This is unedited, please tell me if there is any mistakes.

I hate him.

I hate him so much!

He stole the position of class president from you three years ago.

Yoosung Kim. He stole my position by two votes. Two. Votes. I was always class president before that! Yet he took it from me. My classmates even had the audacity to say he was a better president when it was time to vote for a new one! Sure, Yoosung was intelligent and popular, but he only won because the girls found him handsome.

And of course, he just (HAS) to go to the same university as you do. Sky University was supposed to be a place free of Yoosung Kim. At least he hasn’t seemed too interested in studies this year. He has failed almost every pop quiz your professor has handed out. Whenever you see his down face, you can’t help but giggle a bit.

I dislike how he’s majoring in the same thing as me still. It feels like he’s saying he can do better. Though his grades haven’t been showing that. He must realize that I’m superior than he ever will be.

~~~~~~~~~~

On Wednesday during your last lecture, you diligently take notes and listen to your professor. You make sure to absorb every bit of information that you can. During the last twenty minutes, your professor makes an announcement. 

“Students, I will be assigning a project due at the end of the month. You will have to find out the evolution of the animal as well as their behaviors. Please include any infectious diseases that they can carry. I will be giving you partners to make the workload easy.” You shrug your shoulders, can’t be too bad.

You wait until your name is called, which takes awhile since your name is lower on the list. You pray to whatever god is out there to not get Yoosung as your partner. 

Apparently, the gods refused to listen to your plea. Your professor calls your name out, “[y/n] [l/n] and Yoosung Kim...you two will have the koala.” A loud groan escapes your mouth at the name.

“ Class is dismissed. Have a good day.” You quickly pack up and speed walk out the lecture hall. Yoosung rushes up to you and taps your shoulder.

“Hey! Wanna exchange numbers so we can find time to work on the project?” The blonde smiles at you. You roll your eyes. “No. I’m going to do it on my own. You can play your stupid little game.” He frowns at your snappy words.

“Are you sure? I’d feel bad if you took all the work by yourself. We also have some tests coming up, so it’ll be a lot to take care of.” The genuine worry in his voice ticks you off. You write down your number on a loose piece of paper and shove it into his chest. Yoosung struggles to keep it off the ground as you walk away.  The walk to your dorm is full of your mumbled curses.

~~~~~~~~~

A chill on Saturday morning wakes you up. You grumble as you check your phone, seeing a text notification from Yoosung. He delivered it at 3:45 am. He’ll be an especially lousy partner today. The previous day, Yoosung invited you to his dorm so that you could work on the project together, to which you begrudgingly agreed. 

You arrive at his dorm within a five minute walk. Your notes and laptop are nestled in your backpack. After a quick rap on the door, Yoosung answers. His hair is mussed and his eyes look droopy. You scoff and push your way inside. Surprisingly, his place is a lot neater than you expected.

“So, should we make a slide and divide the work.” He asks. “I’ll do it on my own, go find something else you can do.” You jab. Yoosung lets out a frustrated sigh and speaks up. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but it’d be a lot easier if we shared the load. Plus, this is my grade as much as it is yours.” You grumble an ‘okay’ and split up topics to focus on. Both of you take turns borrowing your notes and his textbook. 

Around two hours after starting, you and Yoosung decide that you worked enough for the day. He offers to get takeout, to which you agree to. You’re a broke college student, how could you refuse? You sit on the floor with your back against the couch, too brain fried to think. Yoosung plomps on the small couch he has and lets out a groan.

“Want to watch Bulu or something on my laptop?” He offers. You nod your head. Yoosung opens his laptop and signs in to his streaming service. You decide to watch ‘The Workspace’ as you wait for your food. 

Your food arrives. Both of you continue to watch your show. Cheap pizza has never tasted this good. Maybe you’re just so hungry and tired to the point where you don’t even care. “Sorry if it isn’t too good. It was the only place I could find on FoodHub.” He apologizes softly. “It’s okay, I’m too hungry to care anymore.” You earn a chuckle from him. There’s an odd silence after that.

“Uhm…. hey, [y/n]?” He speaks shyly. “What?” You say in a cranky voice, irritated about being disturbed from your slice. Yoosung struggles for a minute before speaking for a minute. “Did I do something to offend you? You seem like you have something against me...”  You stiffen. (TW) Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You honestly never expected this to happen.

A can of worms open up. Your breathing slowly becomes ragged. Averting your gaze doesn’t help, you know his amethyst ones are on you. A wave of panic crosses you. You stammer something incoherent to him. “A-are you okay? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to..” He hurriedly apologizes. You grasp tightly at his wrist, wanting to ground yourself to something. Yoosung’s pulse is a bit fast, yet it helps you regain focus. He awkwardly places a hand on yours. “He….hey, It’s okay.” For once, his voice is actually reassuring. 

“Back in highschool..” You murmur. “You won student president even though I had been the president the years prior.” He looked shocked, eyes wide and lips a bit parted. “I remember. You worked really hard on that campaign.” Yoosung gives you a lopsided smile. “Since I didn’t win, people who I reported causing issues started to bully and harass me. Even some people who I used a slightly harsh tone with mocked me.” Your eyes started to sting. “Oh [y/n]...”

“The worst part of all, my parents were upset that I didn’t get the role again. They scolded me for not doing good enough.” (TW End) Yoosung can only pat your back. You don’t know what to think about it. He seems to think that as well, seeing as his hand jumps off you like he was scalded. “I uh… think I should go now. I’ll Lendmo you money for the food…..See ya.” You pack as quickly as possible and run out as fast as you can until you’re out of breath. A block away from Yoosung’s dorms, you stop to take a break. Warmth sets fire to your face when thinking back to being with him. Maybe it’s because you’re embarrassed? Maybe you’re just winded from running. 

There is NO. WAY. your face feels hot because of Yoosung’s comforting presence. There can’t be, it's impossible. You slap your cheeks in an attempt to compose yourself. It doesn’t work.

~~~~~~~~~

Its been a week since you’ve talked to Yoosung. He tries to talk to you, but you always scurry away when he gets too close. He’s even tried texting and throwing notes at you in class which the two of you got in trouble for. It’s only on a Wednesday that he finally catches you in the hall before you run off. The grip of his hand on your wrist is firm, but not to the point of pain.

Yoosung sighs and looks at you. You turn your head away slightly to avoid his burning gaze. “Please don’t be mad…” You hear him suck in a breath. “Mad? Why would you think I’m mad?” Your bottom lip trembles. “For avoiding you..” Yoosung releases your wrist and pats your head. “I’m not mad, I’m worried.” His hand slides down to your shoulder. “I know this won’t really help, but I’m sorry for what happened to you. You’ve been holding this feeling of hate because of some stupid people.” You giggle at his insult to your past peers.

But why do your cheeks feel blazing again? Why are there little butterflies in your stomach? There’s a slight squeeze on your shoulder before he retracts his hand. You wish it was still there so badly, that spot feels cold now. “How about going to my place? We can relax for a bit then work on the project.” He offers. You nod, maybe a little too eagerly as you hear him laugh. Why does he look so cute when he smiles?

You take the bus to his place, the campus being a bit far from his dorms. You immediately collapse on his couch and place an arm over your eyes. The groan that comes from your lips is loud and dramatic. Yoosung laughs loudly, oddly comforting you. He sits by your legs, looking rigid. “So uhm...do you still hate me?” You look him dead in the eye. “Only if you’ll teach me how to play that stupid game of yours.” You smirk. “LOLOL isn’t stupid!” He whines. You start laughing. The scowl on his features make Yoosung look like a puppy who hasn’t gotten a treat. You laugh harder.

Yoosung rolls his eyes. “Fine. I guess I’ll teach you.” You wipe away the tears from your laughing fit and sit up happily. He retrieves his laptop and starts up LOLOL. You notice that the both of you are inching towards each other. “I’ll make your own account just in case you want to play again.” “You mean so I won’t mess up your save file?” Yoosung flounders as you let out a hearty chuckle. You put your email and username in. “ShootingStar_[y/n}? I like it!” He guides you as you create an avatar looking similar to you. You decide to be a mage. During your tutorial levels, you have a hard time navigating with the mouse. He places his right hand on top of your hand on the mouse. Your heart beats erratically while his hand is on yours. There’s a slight blush creeping up on his face as well.

By the time you finish, it’s nearly evening. You take out your laptop while Yoosung logs out and goes into the presentation. You guys spend six hours working, editing each other's slides and practicing presenting. It’s around 12am when you two are content with your work. Yoosung orders some sandwiches from a 24 hour restaurant. 

You decide to stay over since its late. Yoosung lets you sleep on his bed while he takes the couch. His bed is like sleeping on a cloud, so soft and warm. You let yourself drift off peacefully.

~~~~~~~~~

On a Wednesday, you and Yoosung have to present your project in front of the class. His face looks pale, his hands are shaky. “Hey, you okay?” You pat his back. He gulps and nods. “Just a little nervous. It's been awhile since I’ve given your last presentation.” It's your turn to pat his head. His face immediately goes a bright shade of pink.”Wh-what was that for?!” “You did that to me last time I was sad. Besides, I think you’re just mad because you know I’m going to beat you in LOLOL tonight.”  He quickly pouts. “I shouldn’t have shown you PVP mode!”

Your presentation goes well. As you leave your class, your professor hands you a rubric. “Nice work, guys.” He gives you a smile. Yoosung meets you out in the hallway. You both peer at the paper. There’s a huge ‘A’ on the top of your paper. Yoosung looks at you with wide eyes. “Oh my god… I can’t believe we did it!” You jump up and down in exuberance. Yoosung hugs you tight. You can’t deny that you have feelings for him anymore. You kiss his soft lips.

~~~~~~~~~

On a Wednesday, you chase him down the hall.

“Get back here!” You yell. “Make me!” This childish man. You continue your chase until you’re outside on campus. He suddenly stops dead in his tracks. The shock of him giving up so quickly nearly makes you trip. You would’ve become a pancake on the pavement.

“Yoosung Kim, I hate you so much!”

He chuckles warmly. “I love you too”

Yoosung presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll buy you another sweet bun for you. Forgive me?”

“Fine, I guess I forgive you….I love you too..”

You press a kiss to his cheek, relishing in the warmth of the sun shining above you.

[happyandticklish]

Laughter Warms The Soul

Notes: I wrote this in an hour, what the fuck brain, where did these random ideas come from?? 

Summary: Whilst searching for amusement in the city, Izaya stumbles across the dynamic duo and finds himself witness to a sight he’d thought he’d never see. 

Izaya’s grin was wide with the expectation of entertainment as he weaved in-between the busy streets of Ikebukuro. He could tell it was going to be a good day. It was difficult to explain exactly where this premonition came from, only that he was certain of it.

Possibly it had something to do with Namie’s mysterious absence that morning, unexplained and prompt and full of a mystery to be explored later. Possibly it had to do with the sun, sparkling and bright despite the chilly autumn morning. Possibly it had something to do with the sudden sight of Shizuo, far down the street opposite Izaya. No matter what the reason, Izaya decided to take the good mood and roll with it, his legs already moving him across the street to confront the other.

He paused almost as suddenly as he had started, taking a step back onto the pavement as he noticed Tom by his side. The man had his arms wrapped around himself, shivering despite his coat. He was saying something to the other, and Izaya attempted to maneuver his way closer without giving away his position. He couldn’t say why he took the effort for the stealth; after all, it had originally been his mission to torment the beast in some way. It wasn’t often, however, that he got to see Shizuo from a casual stance, and he was curious what the man was like when he wasn’t raging at the info broker.

“…fucking cold,” Tom was saying, his voice twisting in irritation. “Why can’t it have just stayed summer through the rest of the year too?”

Besides him, Shizuo arched a brow in amused surprise. “I don’t think either of us would want to face the effects that would have on the world, what with global warming on the rise and all that.”

“Fuck global warming,” Tom muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. “And fuck cold ass mornings like this that we have to wake up for because some idiot decided he didn’t want to pay his dues.”

“Careful Tom,” Shizuo warned lightly. “I’m supposed to be the one with anger issues, remember?”

“Yes, of course I remember,” Tom snapped, seemingly not aware of the fact that he was taunting a lion. “How could I forget when it makes my workload ten times more difficult every time some hopeless bastard pisses you off.”

Hiding behind a group of tourists, Izaya winced in second-hand regret. Bad move, Tom. Didn’t he know who he was dealing with? Izaya had experienced entire vending machines thrown at him for far less than the direct insult. Sure enough, Shizuo turned to face the other, his arms already coming up to ready an attack. Izaya closed his eyes, biding Tom farewell in his mind as he did.

To his surprise, the next noise he heard was not that of pain or fear, but rather laughter, choked off giggles that cut through the morning breeze. Izaya frowned, eyes snapping open once more as he shot a quick glance in their direction.

Shizuo had snuck his hands under Tom’s coat, and was wiggling his fingers along his sides with devilish intent. Tom was half-doubled over, shoving weakly at Shizuo’s arms but doing little in the long run to dissuade him. Shizuo had a slight smirk on his face, the expression somehow both smug and affectionate at the same time.

Izaya’s eyes widened.

“S-Shihizuo!” Tom gasped, his lips tugging up into a reluctant grin. “Wahahait! T-Thihis ihisn’t fahahair!”

“It’s perfectly fair,” Shizuo argued pleasantly. “If you have a problem with the way I do things, there are other ways of telling me than snide remarks. This is simply your punishment—both for the insult and for the way you’ve been complaining all morning.”

Tom desperately shoved at his hands, trembling in one spot as he fought to hold himself upright. They had both stopped walking by now, and people merely curved around them, seemingly ignorant to the truth of the situation. Tom’s cheeks puffed out with held-in laughter, flushing a bright pink with the effort.

“You know, it’s strange,” Shizuo commented, his fingers crawling spiderlike onto his ribs. Tom squeaked, lurching forward, but the other’s hands held him back in a ticklish hug. “I’d almost forgotten how sensitive you were; it’s been a while since I last did this. I think we should make it more of a habit, don’t you?”

“Y-Yohohou’re dehehead!” Tom giggled, his internal battle to hold in his reactions ultimately failing. “S-Sohoho dehehehead!”

“Funny, because the way I see it, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Stahahahap!” Tom wheezed, squirming as much as he could in his grip. “Gohohoddammit, ihihit fuhuhuhucking tihihihickles!”

“Does it?” Shizuo grinned. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Ohohoho fuhuhuhuck yohohou!”

Izaya was frozen. People shoved past him, but he could hardly find it in himself to care as shoulders and elbows jostled into him, his gaze focused so intently on the scene in front of him. Tickling. The monster of Ikebukuro, the brute who had tormented him for all these years, was currently tickling Tom Tanaka of all people, in the public view of anyone who happened to pass by. And Tom wasn’t running away, or shoving him off like most might expect. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying himself, his laughter mingling with the amused chuckles of Shizuo.

But what threw Izaya the most, above anything else, was the gentle way in which Shizuo did it. His posture was relaxed, not tense with annoyance or rage. His fingers climbed a gentle path up and down Tom’s sides, drawing only musical giggles from the other’s lips, instead of noises of panic or discomfort. Izaya waited for his ribcage to be crushed beneath Shizuo’s grip, for angered shouts to fall from his lips. Despite this, only that slight smile remained, and those devastatingly nimble fingers wreaking a path of soft destruction along his torso instead of the usual bloodshed.

So lost was he in his thoughts, that he found himself jumping at the sudden shriek. Shizuo had managed to worm his hands under Tom’s arms, and the man dropped, his knees giving out underneath him. Shizuo merely followed him to the ground, eagerly pursuing the apparent hot spot.

“Shihihihihizuo!” Tom cackled, squeezing his eyes shut as his arms clamped down quickly to his sides. “Plehehehehease!”

“I don’t know,” Shizuo mused, feigning hesitation. “I mean, how can I know for sure if you’ve learned your lesson?”

“Ihihihihihi hahahahave, Ihihihi hahahahahahave!” Tom insisted quickly, curling his knees up to his chest. “Juhuhuhuhust stahahahahahap!”

Shizuo sighed, relenting at last and releasing the other. “Alright. But only because we’re going to be late if we stay here any longer.”

Tom giggled in tired relief, burying his face in his hands. “You suck. You suck so much.”

“Yeah, yeah. C’mon, let’s get you up off the ground.”

Shizuo helped the other man to his feet, and Tom dusted the grime off his pants with a disdainful look. “That was entirely unnecessary, you know.”

“Your cheeks.”

“What?”

“They’re all red.” When Tom continued to stare at him in confusion, he clarified, “You were complaining about being cold. I bet that warmed you up.”

Tom started as he realized the other was right; all the laughing and squirming had sent blood rushing quickly to his limbs, heating up the chill that had seeped in. He narrowed his eyes in annoyance at the other’s accuracy, shoving past him with a huff. “Whatever. You’re such a nuisance sometimes, you know that?”

Shizuo laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets and following after him.

Izaya waited until they were gone to move from his position, his pulse racing. What was that? What the hell was that? And why was it making him feel so… Izaya wasn’t even sure what the specific emotion was. Irritation? Panic? Loneliness? Possibly the strangest one of them all was the vicious jealousy, tugging at his heart and making it clench up uncomfortably. Because maybe a part of him, however small, had wished that he could have been the one under Shizuo’s hands. Maybe he too wanted to be able to laugh like that, free and unworried, and have the brute look down at him with that unfairly kind smile of his.

Shoving the thoughts aside quickly, Izaya turned on his heel and headed in the opposite direction, attempting to ignore the persistent flush to his cheeks.

After all, he could always find entertainment elsewhere.

[step-on-me-khun]

rough anal sex with khun please? female reader, he wants to try it and she’s a little hesitant. thank you!

Here you go

Forever finishing smut requests at midnight

NSFW/Smut

Words: 2,468

Trust was something you always had with Khun, even if it was a little difficult to trust him at times. His pride at times was a little off-putting, but it never made you question your relationship with him. His smug smirk was always something you liked and hated seeing.

It was also something you tried to maintain when the two of you were in the privacy of each others rooms, away from everyone else. It wasn't very often that Khun would suggest something a little different.

His back was against the headboard as your mouths crash against each other, quickly growing heated and desperate. Both his hands behind you, grabbing at your skin, one under your top, caressing your back, the other roughly kneading your ass, drawing you closer to him.

You gasp into his mouth as his nails scratch into the skin of your ass, making him chuckle onto yours.

"You're enjoying this, making me wait, aren't you?" You ask.

"I wonder what could've given you that idea," he taunts you sarcastically before connecting your mouths again.

With every passing second, your body becomes hotter and a lot needier. Damn, did he like making you wait, making you suffer like this. Your whining would always encourage him to be rougher with you until you did what it was he wanted.

It was always a miracle to you that you were always able to cover the remnants of what he had done to you.

The fingers on your ass inch closer to your entrances, teasing you with their rough presses until a single finger slowly pushes its way inside your ass.

A sudden shock ran through your body as his finger slowly moved in and out of you.

Your hands, which were gripping at his hair, tugged on a few strands, causing him to release a lusty groan.

"K-Khun," you whimper into his mouth.

But he was reluctant to let your mouth go without a fight.

Your fingers had to tug on his hair again to get his mouth away from yours, the only thing still connecting the two of you being a string of saliva from the tip of your tongues.

His finger was still pushing in and out of you slowly.

"S-stop it," you cry quietly.

"Stop what?" Khun asks.

"You know what," you shuffle up his body, attempting to get him to remove his finger from you, "it doesn't feel right,"

"But don't you want me to fuck you there?" He taunts, pushing another finger inside you, holding them still.

You knew what he wanted and, although you had had anal before, it was always something you were hesitant with. There was desperation inside you for him, but it wasn't enough for you to be comfortable with something like this.

His eyes were gazing directly into yours, waiting for a response of some kind, and shifting a little as you became more embarrassed.

"Does it matter what I want?" You ask inaudibly, tipping your head down and turning away from his eyes.

"Huh? Of course, it does," he replies as his hand flies to your face, cupping your cheek and turning your face towards him again, "when have I ever hurt you or made you uncomfortable? I just want to make you feel good,"

He wasn't the type of person to lie to you, and you knew that he did enjoy the reactions you gave him, no matter how big or small. Seeing your face contort, all pink from what he would do to you, that was the only thing he would watch all day.

Still, you couldn't help but be nervous. Your fingers tug on his hair, bringing his face closer to yours. Although a good amount of worry was instilled inside you, you knew that he would respect you and what you choose to do.

"I'll be so good to you," his hand moves stray hairs away from your ear and whispers in it, "so good that you'll never want me to stop,"

Your fingers release his hair, arms worming their way around his neck.

"Aguero, please be good to me," you beg.

You could feel his mouth forming a smile against your face as he moves his away from your face.

"Lie on your side for me," he softly commands you, his hand running down your arm.

You comply without much of a thought, sure that he would treat you as gently as you knew he would. Your legs were straight, your arms in front of you. But you didn't know what was going through his brain. He knew how to get what he wanted, and maybe this was just a small step in doing that.

Your eyes stared at the wall, worrying and waiting. There was no need to worry, but it was something that happened so rarely, that it would be kind of weird if you didn't act this way.

The sounds of shuffling came from beside you as Khun lay down on his side. He places his hands at the back of your thighs, pushing them up so that your knees bend, then pushes one of them up further.

Any overthinking now would just put you off, so you pushed everything that worried you to the back of your mind.

The sound of a click could be heard, snapping you out of your thoughts. It was obvious what it was.

His left arm worms its way under and around your neck, his hand resting on your shoulder. A quick kiss was planted on your right shoulder as the cold touch of the lube was felt on your hole.

"Looks like I'm going to take that pretty like ass of yours," he teases. His fingers reach so far inside you, then separate, twisting as he pushes them in further.

It did sting a little, but it was quick to disappear the more his fingers move inside you.

"It feels like your teasing me," you complain, "just get on with it,"

A chuckle came from his mouth, it vibrated against your neck.

The bed shifted behind you a little, his fingers remove themselves from your hole.

"Are you sure you want this?" He whispers mischievously into your ear.

You groan in annoyance at him, "if you stop now, you'll have gotten me riled up for no reason,"

"Okay, then," he says smugly, lining himself up with your ass, "I can take a hint," he whispers again as he roughly pushes inside you.

You gasp loudly as his length stretched our insides. This must've been intentional.

"God, Khun," you cry, your nails digging into the skin of his arm.

"You didn't think I'd go easy on you, did you?" He whispers, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear.

You had just assumed that he wasn't going to go easy on you, but it looked like he had other ideas.

The hand on your shoulder moved to your neck, grabbing tightly onto it as he moved in and out of you at a painfully slow pace. His other hand was under your left leg, fingers either circling your clit, or prodding around your vagina.

It was never guaranteed that he'd be gentle or soft when the two of you were at it, and he had always been kind of gentle when it came to taking your ass. Who were you to think it would be the same now.

He was so caring and gentle before he even entered you, so it was a bit surprising to see his attitude go from that to being rough with you. But this was something he would do if he wanted something, even if what he wanted was this.

"W-was this something you wanted from the start?" You ask his hand at your throat limiting you from speaking and making you breathless.

He chuckles at your question, "whatever gave you that idea?" He responds sarcastically.

You exhale sharply as his speed and pace increase.

His chin rests on your shoulder, his mouth dangerously close to your ear, letting you hear every little hiss and groan that escapes his mouth.

Saying that Khun was unpredictable would be an understatement, you could never tell what he would do next. The thought alone would be enough to both excite and frighten you.

You couldn't deny that he was making you feel good, and as his speed increased, his fingers rubbed furiously on your clit, driving you insane.

No moans were released from your mouth, only shaky breaths, and the odd gasp for air.

"Oh, fuck," you moan quietly. It was challenging to do or say much, you struggled to keep your hands from leaving visible scratches on his arm.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans into your ear, his breath tickling the back of your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

With him thrusting madly into you, and his fingers rubbing harshly on your clit, it made your orgasm build up quicker than normal.

"A-Aguero," you cry, letting one of your hands fall from his arm.

He notices that your release was nearing and speeds up his thrusting. Your eyes shut tight as feel the wave of the release rush through you, making you moan loudly.

But still, he wasn't done. Just because you came once, didn't mean that he was done with you.

His hand moves away from your clit, the other one lets go of your neck. He was an exhausting piece of work, and at times you wanted to hit him. But, at this moment, he made you comfortable to do something that you rarely did. You couldn't help but feel grateful that he hadn't pressured you into doing this.

He shifts himself, moving his arm from under your neck. You moan softly as his length leaves you.

"Lie on your back for me," he commands you, his voice low and husky.

God, was he attractive when he was telling you what to do. Like you were only a toy for him to have his way with. But, you knew he wasn't really like that.

You quickly move on your back, your arms under your legs pulling them up towards your chest.

He smirks and chuckles at you and just how desperate you were for him.

"You look so needy for me, (Y/N)," he teases, his body hovering over yours as he lines himself up with your ass again. His hand reaches your face, clutching your jaw as he roughly plunges into your again.

"Ahh, fuck," you cry, your hands travelling up to his neck.

His mouth presses onto yours roughly as he continues to ram into you at a monstrous pace.

Your lidded eyes stare up into his steely blue one as he pulls his mouth away, the look you were giving him was something he never wanted to look away from. You would make him breathless, just like how he would do the same thing to you.

He sits up, his eyes still fixed on yours, his hand letting go of your face. He was an intimidating person, and he was even more so when you were like this, powerless to do anything.

"Oh, my god," you cry, his fingers returning to your clit again, pressing down on it and rubbing it just as fast as before.

He had you close to sobbing, it was near too much, and he hadn't done that much to you.

"Am I making you feel good, beautiful?" He teases.

Your hands grasp at the bedsheet surrounding you like it was the only thing that was keeping you grounded.

You weren't ignoring him, you just didn't want to answer.

Shaky breaths left your mouth as he continued his rough speed and pace on you.

His eyes watched your entire body as he thrust into you. He immediately would look directly at your eyes and face first, then his eyes would trail down your body, and that's what he was currently doing. It didn't matter about your body shape or how small or big your breasts were, it was as if he was looking down at a beautiful angel.

"Fuck, Aguero," you cry, your hands trying to find his.

He lets out a hiss, letting you know just how good you were making him feel.

"Dammit," you moan, closing your eyes as your release comes again.

"Ah, fuck," he groans quietly, his eyes on your face as you come again, your teeth biting down on your lower lip.

Damn, that sight alone was something that wouldn't leave his brain.

His fingers leave your clit, he comes not too long after, a shaky breath leaving his mouth as he does.

Maybe you had overreacted, maybe this was something that you had to get used to. He would definitely try to do this again, even if it's the last thing you wanted to do.

You whine as his length leaves you. His eyes looked down on you still, but he looked proud of what he had done to you.

"You're a pain," you say silently, your forearms over your eyes.

"I heard that," he says, smacking you playfully on your thigh, making you shift a little.

It was cute seeing you all embarrassed like this, it was as if he had won against you.

"Did I make you feel good?" His voice low and husky like before as he lays down beside you again, his eyes still on you.

You move your arms away from your face, eyes on him as you turned to face him.

"Yes, you did, but," you start, your face red.

"But what?"

"Is this something you're gonna suggest often?"

"Huh?" He was amused by your expressions, "of course it is."

That reply was the one thing you expected, but you didn't want to overthink something that both of you clearly enjoyed.

"That's only if it's something you're comfortable with," his voice says softly.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. Your arms wrap around him, the warmth of his body making you comfortable.

The pair of hands on your back pull you closer to him, but you could feel one of them creeping lower towards your ass again, you could feel him grope it roughly.

"Damn it, Khun," you complain, fidgetting against him, hiding your face in his chest, "you're such a pervert.

He chuckles at you, "I'm only like this for you, your reactions to me doing anything are cute,"

"Just shut up and sleep," your voice was muffled against his chest.

"I love you," he says in a taunting voice.

"Mmm," you groan against him, "I love you too, horrible prick,"

He did live for the reactions you gave him, and you did give him a lot. But that's only because he was a proud prick who always got what he wanted.

taglist [always feeling weird about tagging people in smut]

@unexceptional-h @koi-chairowo @rizonacigaravenue

[inactive-shroomiehomie]

SFW Alphabet - Sonny Carisi

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Sonny loves holding you anyway he can. He’s a big physical affection type of guy! Sitting casually in his lap on the couch, Sonny towering behind you with his arms hugging your shoulders from behind. He doesn’t like smooching or being too cuddly in public, but he just can’t stay away from you !

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

It doesn’t matter how long he’s known you, Dominick is a loyal friend. If he goes against you in anyway, he has a pretty damn good reason or it’s for your own good. If you’re in a bad mood, Sonny would come over and cook for you and you two would goof around until he had to go back home or until he passed out on your couch.

You are both night-time law students and you get to arguing over some study case you were both given for an assignment- and you out smart him. He starts laughing in disbelief and offers to buy you a coffee. Then you two are hanging out at the bar after classes, throwing darts and throwing back drinks. 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

As previously stated, Carisi is a big ol’ snuggler. He’s also a personal heater when it comes to sleeping at night and it can be a blessing on those chilly New York nights.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Sonny + Cooking = ♥

Sonny + Cleaning= :/ (He’s a bit of a germaphobe, but he doesn’t know how to pick up after him self more than he should.)

You’ve talked about it before, and while you both agree bringing children into the world when their Dad would have to see and hear the things he does at work on a daily basis would be horrible, having a kid or two wouldn’t be horrible. Plus, Dominick is so great with children, especially babies. From his own nieces to Rollins’ two girls; He can quiet a screaming child in seconds and it mesmerizes you each time.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Face to Face. If you were committed enough to be in the relationship for however long, you should have the guts to end whatever it is to the other persons’ face.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Sonny would feel horrible anxiety about proposing to you. He definitely wants to be with you until you’re both worm food, but he’s been on the job long enough to see what happens to marriages when someone works this kind of job. But you’re in it for the long haul, and he just has to accept that.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

The human embodiment of a golden retriever is the perfect way to describe Sonny. Loyal, sweet, patient. But if you betray their trust it’s suuuuper hard to get it back.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

When Carisi hugs you, it’s like being bundled up tight for winter, but not suffocating. His chest is firm and comfortable and no matter the hug type, he always draws circles on your lower back, just to make you smile.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

You were actually the first to say it. It was an over-excited slip, but you still meant it 100%. And unbeknownst to know, Carisi wanted to say it week two of knowing you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He’s not a jealous of possessive man. The most jealous he’s behaved is whenever he’s in a clingy mood and you’re at work or hanging out with Rollins and Olivia without him. But he’s still very protective of you and watches your back.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Carisi loves to kiss the top of your head or the back of your neck. Nothing weird, just a quick peck. The back-of-your-neck kisses would sometimes release a giggle from you and it would end up with him pinning you down and tickling you ‘til you cried.~

But you love to kiss his cheeks and hands. It’s hard to describe, but wanting to kiss him on the cheek as the same mental effect as a crow wanting to bring a bright, shiny thing back to the nest for it’s mate.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Again, Carisi is an amazing person with children. He’ll make an amazing father one day.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’s a morning bird. Always up before you with coffee or sometimes food if he had time. But he always made sure- unless it was urgent business- he would wake you up with a sweet his on the cheek or gently rocking you until you came too.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Unless it’s a day off, you rarely get to see him. (ADA or Detective) But on the nights where he gets home early, you both talk about your days and how they went. Dinner, snuggling on the couch, and sometimes you’ll even show him some of your personal projects you’ve been working on. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Along side being the prefect cook and great  with kids, he’s a chatter box. He doesn’t just blurt out things weird like, “I used to spank it to Opera 24/7.” On the first day or anything. Just threw things into casual conversation or when you asked. But if anyone said something about a good home cooked meal, he wouldn’t shut up about the 5 different foods his mama used to make for hi.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He works for a sex crimes division. You have to do something pretty horrible to beat that. You’ve had your fair share of fights though. Between his Italian blood and whatever you were arguing about, he could be stuck on an argument for longer than you would be.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Maybe golden retriever wasn’t an accurate description of what he was. More so like.... a wiener-dog-chihuahua mix. Dorky, but brain still smart and ticking. R  Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Yet somehow, he can’t find his damn phone charger.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Sonny knows you can take care of yourself, but being a part of the NYPD, he'a naturally protective. If you need help getting away from a guy Carisi is on you in seconds, flashing his gun and badge.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Carisi spoils you. He's usually the one to cook when you two have time for dinner and there's never not homemade sweets in the house.

But on your anniversaries, Carisi would make you breakfast in bed and the two of you would make sure to take off from work for the day. Lounging and enjoying one another's company until Carisi would send you to the grocery to get dinner supplies and he can have time to decorate the apartment.

Your favorite scented candles, light pink rose petals, soft music. All the beautiful cliche shit that's just so cheesy and sweet enough to make your heart melt.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Your schedules tend to not overlap. So when he gets home or gets ready for work, he will sometimes leave his dirty laundry around the house and his filthy dishes in his sink.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

His hair, yes. Otherwise, Sonny couldn't give two shits what he looked like. And you coupdn't either.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

"Before you I felt like used tea bag. Already fulfilled my purpose with nothing else left. Then you came around and gave me new purpose. Instead of tea, you made me into a bath bomb. Or a soap scrub."

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Not being able to see him in person for a few days at time or before 11:30pm should be something his partner should be able to deal with. And being able to appreciate his friends and family like he does.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Carisi REFUSES to admit, but the backs of his knees are super ticklish. Sometimes when you're cuddling, you "accidentally" brush your feet up against the back of his knee and he practically falls off of the couch spasming. It's the cutest thing.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Carisi would definitely be a sleep talker. He'd also be the person that if you tried to get up without him, he would hold onto you tighter in his sleep. You think he may be awake sometimes when he does that, but Sonny neither denies or admits that to being true.

[flooffybits]

Can I?

Idol: Dreamcatcher

Your managers had to be strict during fan meets, wanting to avoid as much casualties as possible, but when you look at your members, they just can’t seem to say no to you.

"Can we get food if they give us some?" Yoohyeon questioned as she looked out the window, checking if you were near the venue yet or not.

Yubin raised a brow at her friend in confusion, but before she could open her mouth, Bora already beat her to it. "Of course! It's rude to decline food like that." She said with her signature playful smile and Gahyeon ended up laughing at the older girl whilst Yubin shook her head.

"I mean, as long as it's okay with our managers, I don't think it'll be a problem." Minji pointed out while she scrolled through her phone. "It isn't like we aren't allowed to take things, right?." Siyeon added thoughtfully when she rummaged through the bag filled with snacks and then picking out a pack of gummy worms.

"So, food is okay?" Yoohyeon asked excitedly, her voice growing in pitch, though they know accepting anything wasn’t really allowed. "I just like how you're assuming there will be food." Bora burst out laughing, but Handong gestured for her to quiet down before she's pointing on you, sleeping against her shoulder.

Quickly, Bora had shut her mouth, a sheepish grin on her face. “Unnie didn’t get to sleep much last night.” Gahyeon commented when she peeked from the backseat. “She kept telling me that she was going to try, but she was too excited for today.” She giggled, remembering when you were constantly scolding her to head to bed, despite yourself.

It was actually Siyeon who ended up telling you to rest when she went to check on you and Gahyeon. The older girl saw that you were tossing and turning in bed before she sat next to you and asked what was wrong. When you told her that you were running on adrenaline, she actually laughed and then decided that the best she could do was talk to you until you did fall asleep, which then resulted in her sleeping in your bed.

That resulted in Bora asking around the following day if anyone’s seen the girl. She hadn’t seen her since last night or when she woke up, so her worry was understandable. She ended up waking everyone because of all her screaming.

“Tell me about it. I ended up falling asleep, first, when I was trying to help her sleep.” Siyeon shook her head while munching on a gummy worm. “Her excitement is so random sometimes.” Handong laughed lightly when she lightly petted your hair to lull you further into sleep.

Minji smiled while she shrugged her shoulders. “But her excitement is endearing, you have to admit.” She says, and no one protests. “She did get “Dreamcatcher’s happy pill” for a reason.” Yubin pointed out as she bookmarked the page she just finished and then placed her book away.

“Are we almost there?” Bora questioned when she checked the time. “The event should start in a while.” She tells them and Gahyeon looks around, trying to see the people that should be lined up for the fan meet. “Is it there?” She asked excitedly when she saw a bunch of people huddled up, and Minji looked over to check before nodding her head. “I think so.”

“Time to wake the baby up.” Yubin says as she grabs her jacket while Handong nodded and lightly tapped your hand since your arm was entwined with hers. “Y/n, we’re here.” She said gently, watching as your eyes fluttered open. She smiled lightly at you as you stretched your arms and then rubbed your eyes. “Finally awake?” She asked playfully and you shot her a smile.

When the van comes to a stop, you all get ready, Yoohyeon handing you a jacket and you thank her while putting it on, zipping it up just as the door opened and the sound of fans screaming met your ears.

“Let’s go.”

Since you were all seated by age, the first to exit were Siyeon, Bora, and Minji, followed by Yoohyeon, you, then Handong, and finally Gahyeon and Yubin.

Seeing everyone there, fans started to scream louder and you all smiled. Though you did your best to fix your hair and not look like you had just woken up with the way you were clinging to Yoohyeon’s arm.

“You good?” The younger girl giggled as she helped you tuck your hair and you squint at her. “Shut up.” That made her laugh while she finished patting your hair down and then took your hand to stand next to everyone.

Seeing the amount of people there, your smile was quick to come back as you waved your hand. “Hello!” You called out, making the girls and some of the people, laugh at your usual antics. “Y/n is up and about like usual. So, let’s get started.” Minji counted before you all did your greeting.

“Dream of us! Hello, we are Dreamcatcher.”

Minji first explained the flow of the whole thing, but your still half-asleep brain doesn’t quite listen to everything she’s saying as you scan the crowd, smiling and waving at them before your manager was already standing in front of you and holding out a box filled with paper.

You jumped slightly at her sudden appearance before laughing and randomly picking out a number. You released Yoohyeon’s arm so she won’t see, making her look at you weirdly. “I’m going to find out, anyway!” She laughed and you stuck your tongue out before looking at the number.

“Who will go first?” Bora asked while looking at everyone and you raised your hands, a little more awake while you bounced on your spot. “Me! Me!”

“Please excuse our Y/n. She just woke up a while ago.” Siyeon laughed while your manager went to make you choose what you will be giving the fan you had picked out.

Yubin stood next to you and looked as you unfolded the paper and then leveling the megaphone to your mouth. “This person will be getting a... Dreamcatcher’s poster!” You folded the paper again before opening the smaller piece for the number.

While you did, you could feel someone against your shoulder, and with a quick glance, you saw Gahyeon looking as well.

“Number forty-seven?” You all looked to the gathered fans and checked to see who would be receiving the poster, but no one was approaching. So, you call the number again. “Where are you?” Minji asked playfully in a singsong voice before you spotted a girl raising her hand.

Seeing her, your smile widened as you excitedly waved at her. “There we go!” Your manager handed you the poster and marker, letting you quickly sign it before the fan had finally reached you.

When she was close enough, she looked incredibly shy, making you coo while handing the item to her. “Hello! What’s your name?” You ask her. “Chaemin. It’s nice to meet you.” She managed to say as you giggled and wrote her a little note on the poster. “Thank you for seeing us!”

Before she could go, you had given her a quick hug, making your members aww. “Ah, our little teddy bear.” Handong said into the megaphone while you waved to the fan and returned to Yubin's side.

While the others proceeded with their own picks, you would sometimes look to the cameras and smiled, spotting some of your fansites and then posing for them. At one point, Gahyeon had barged into your arms and you happily cuddled her, nuzzling her hair and making her giggle.

"Unnie, my hair!" She pretend to be upset, but you just continued to tease her while tightening your arms. "But you're so cute! Our adorable little maknae!" You add an exaggerated kiss to her head, making her squirm and laugh.

Yoohyeon had looked over and shook her head before she felt Yubin next to her and patted her head gently.

Somewhere to the side, Siyeon had sat down, the megaphone in her hands. When Bora saw her, she quickly went behind the younger girl and draped herself over her back, arms around her neck while her legs were on her sides.

Minji laughed when she saw them before shaking her head and then proceeding with the event.

At some point though, when you had decided to converse with fans and just pose for fansites, you find yourself next to your leader, who then weny to poke your cheek and then placed her hands on your head to give you bunny ears.

You had to crouch down a bit before she rested her chin on top of your head. While she showed off her best puppy eyes, you wrapped your arms around her and pouted instead, knowing how much people commented about the two of you like this.

Though you were part of the maknae line, you and Minji sure managed to get yourselves the title of fake maknae because of your antics.

“This time, we’ll be giving a signed polaroid to whoever’s number we call, we please pay attention!” Handong announced while Siyeon, being the nearest, took the bundled pictures and looked at each of them. Everyone checked the pictures to make sure it was the right one before you would give it away.

While you waited for your turn to pick a number, you sat down on the floor with, cheek against your fist while humming. Yubin quickly took your hand and tugged you to stand up. “Yah! It’s dirty.” She scolded lightly, making you whine when she successfully brought you to your feet. “But Dami!”

She playfully rolled her eyes and then wrapped her arms around you instead while swaying you from side to side. “We’ll be done in a bit.” She informs you, gently patting your head and then letting it rest on her shoulder, almost as though she was handling a baby.

You pouted into her neck, but clung to her, still.

Yubin continued to pet your hair while you shifted your head a bit just so you could see what was happening, but she had to let go of you to give her picture away, and then you would go after.

That didn’t erase the pout on your face though.

Seeing as the younger girl went and tended to the fan, leaving you by yourself, Handong smiled at you before she patted your side after giving you a side hug. “What’s got you so pouty, this time?” She asks playfully and you point to Yubin. “Dami told me not to sit on the floor.” You tell her with a huff, blowing your hair out of your face as she chuckles.

“Well, why don’t you give the fan your polaroid. We can finish faster.” She nodded to your manager when she came over with the box again and you puffed your cheeks out while taking another strip.

Seeing the number, you smiled a bit when you saw that it was your favorite number and then called for whoever had it. Handong released you from her hold as you went over, seeing it was a fansite of yours, making your smile widen.

“Hello!” You greeted happily before handing them the photo. They smile back at you and thank you right before you opened your arms to give them a bear hug, rubbing their back in an almost comforting manner.

As you pulled back, the person looked to your manager and then to you. “I saw that you were a bit down, so I hope it’s okay to give you something, too.” They say, and you looked confused when they reached into their backpack to pull out an Ice Bear stuffed toy.

The size of it looked like it was the only thing that fit their bag, making your eyes widen and your members to gasp when they offered it to you. “I hope this is okay.” You quickly looked back to your manager with a hopeful look on your face. But seeing her shake her head, your heart sank.

Your fansite had gone and bought you a gift and you weren’t allowed to take it. The sadness was clear on your face to everyone and your fansite just smiled encouragingly at you. “It’s okay. Maybe I can give it to you another time.”

You were already holding one of the toy’s paws and squeezing it  when your members watched you. They couldn’t help but frown at the sight and Siyeon quickly ran to your side, her hands landing on your shoulders.

“Wow, Y/n, that’s really cute. Is it yours?” She asked with wide eyes and you turn to her, frown still present. “I can’t take it.” You tell her and she fakes a confused face when she takes the toy to examine it. “Why not? It’s a gift. It would be rude not to.”

Seeing what she was up to, the rest of your members came to your aid and began to ask the fansite. “This is for Y/n unnie, right?” Gahyeon asked and they nodded happily. “Aww, that’s so sweet!” Minji cooed as she handed the toy to you.

You were looking at all of them in confusion this time, knowing that your manager would be scolding you by now, but Yubin placed a hand on the small of your back to reassure you.

“What are you going to name it?” Yoohyeon asked cheerfully and you couldn’t help but laugh lightly. “I don’t know, but manager unnie said we’re not allo-”

“It’s yours. Don’t worry.” Handong smiled at you before thanking the fan and your face visibly lit up. “Really?” When they all nodded, you immediately hugged the stuffed bear and cuddled it. “See? It’s for you!” Bora clapped her hands excitedly.

Fans cooed at the sight and the shutter of cameras going off echoed around the place whilst your manager shook her head. You were all stubborn and she knows better than to restrain all of you, especially when you looked like such a kicked puppy earlier because of her.

Going back to your places, you couldn’t take your eyes off the bear and the girls all watched fondly as you unzipped your jacket, only to have the bear inside before zipping it back up, just so you could hug it better.

It was an adorable sight.

Before saying goodbye, you were asked to pretend as if you were on a catwalk, much to your amusement.

When Siyeon called you for your turn, you were reluctant to part with the gift, taking it out of your jacket and looking at your members. You scanned their faces before hesitantly handing it to Gahyeon. “Please hold it for me.” She beamed you a smile and nodded her head, holding the bear as though she was guarding it and you went to follow what the others did before you.

Of course, you had decided to look serious for the first few shots, hearing the people cheering, but when you broke character because of Bora’s laugh, you stuck your tongue out and then ran to grab the bear and pose with it instead.

“Ah, cute!” Minji and Handong shouted at you while Yubin shook her head while smiling because, of course, you would want to show off your new bear.

Heading back to the car, you were re-energized and happily moving about in your seat, the bear on your lap whilst you hugged it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Your members were left to watch, laughing. “You should thank me for that. If I didn’t step in, you wouldn’t be getting that.” Siyeon joked while Bora pushed her. “As if. We all got her the bear.” She retorted and Minji had to put her drink away just so she wouldn’t accidentally spill it anywhere.

“Correction, her fansite got it for her.” Yubin cut in and Gahyeon gave her a look. “But the bear did make unnie look much happier.” She pointed out, making everyone nod in agreement.

“Our Y/n deserves to be happy.” Handong hugged you and you smile while cuddling into her, and Yoohyeon rested her head on your shoulder. “That’s right.”

“We wouldn’t have made it this far without you, Y/n.”

You smiled at the girls in reply, squeezing the bear in your arms. “And I wouldn’t be much without all of you.”

[keanuvibe]

omg a smut fic with keanu and he fucks reader on his bike

It is 8:40 on this warm monday morning and girl I was not prepared to get turned on so early but... here we are!

Warnings: smut, oral (m recieving) fucking over a motorcycle? (does that count as a warning idk lol) and Keanu (deserves his own warning)

A yawn escaped your throat as you trailed throughout the silent scape of your home. It was late, just past ten, and your husband, Keanu, hadn’t come up from the garage in hours. It was his day off, and on those days you usually let him do whatever. The man’s schedule is already so full of meetings, shoots, and press conferences, you certainly didn’t want to add yourself to that list. 

Soft music got louder as you approached the door that enters the garage, signaling that the man was still working on his motorcycle. You bit your lip, opening the entrance and stepping through. Your eyes met the sight of Keanu laying on his back, fiddling with something on the bike. A tarp resided under him, and the motorcycle; probably to keep the area as clean as possible. Tools and bolts lay scattered about, same with empty beer cans. It was almost as though a tornado had blown through.

“Almost finished?” You mused, standing in front of the man and folding your arms. He finished screwing something on before setting the tool down and sitting up, looking towards you. His hair was disheveled, more than usual, and he donned some grease marks across his forehead and cheeks. It was endearing, to say the least. 

“I can’t get the damn thing to start.” He huffed, rubbing his temple momentarily. You stifled a giggle at the new dirt that covered his face and instead, took a step closer. The mans eyes raked up your body, noticing what little clothing you had on. It was bedtime, so you only donned pajama shorts and a loose white T with no bra. 

“Well, maybe this is a project for after work tomorrow,” You hummed, running your fingers through his hair. The mans head leaned onto your thigh, a hand snaking it’s way up and rubbing your skin. The two of you sat like that for a moment, but you couldn’t help the distracting thoughts that came with your husbands hand caressing your skin.

“C’mon, motorcycle man, let’s head to bed.” You hummed, stepping out of the mans grasp. He sighed before standing up and tossing aside the wrench in his hand, replacing it with his near empty beer. You watched as the man threw his head back, finishing off the drink before throwing it into the recycle bin. His hands were quick to grab at your body, missing the feel of your warmth. Sometimes he gets lost in his projects, causing a whole day to pass without even a blink. And, because of that, he’s started to notice the mild neglect he’d been giving you.

You felt as he pulled your back flush against his chest and moved the hair from your neck. Gentle scratchy kisses began to litter the exposed area, causing goosebumps to cover your skin at the sensation.

“Missed you,” He murmured just behind your ear. The husky tone in his voice gave away what he was hinting at, and to be honest, you missed him too. His callused, dirty, hands made their way up your torso, fingers gently running just under your breasts; merely passing by the skin. It caused a hesitated breath to escape your throat. His other hand found the hem of your shorts, playing with it,snapping the elastic fabric back down against your skin in a teasing manner.

You wasted no time, flipping around so you were face to face. Your hands grasped his dirt-clad shirt, pulling your bodies flush once again. Your lips captured his in a heated manner; tasting the alcohol that stained his breath and lips. Keanu’s hands grabbed at your bum, kneading the flesh gently and slowly; relishing in the feeling. He then hooked his fingers into your shorts, pulling them partially down. You did the rest of the work, worming your legs so the bottoms fell to the ground; leaving you in a shirt and panties.

“Bed?” You whispered in a rush, momentarily breaking the kiss. The man shook his head, hand eagerly reaching up your shirt and grasping your breast.

“Too far, right here.” He responded, initially shaking his head. You nodded in agreement, arousal taking over your thoughts; almost like a pink cloud leaving a haze. Your hand ventured down passing the mans belt buckle and zipper, quickly undoing the articles so his pants hung open. Your fingers slyly slipped past his boxers, hand greeting dark course hair before his hardening member.

The sound of pleasure leaving your husbands lips only fueled your fire. Dropping to your knees, you were swift to free the man of his confines. Your eyes sized up his cock before meeting his gaze staring down at you. You could feel the tension and anticipation radiating from both of your bodies, it was electric.

You began to pump him with your hand, slowly, and gave him little kitten licks before fully taking him into your mouth. Keanu gathered the hair from your face, pulling it away so he could watch as you worked him so. His hips would thrust occasionally, causing you to deep throat, but it only fired the flame in your belly.

The man pulled you off before he got too close, and stood you back up. Bringing you in for a tight kiss, he quickly shoved his hand past your panties, feeling the heat of your core and wet cover his fingers. You released a soft mew at the touch, grinding your hips closer to his hand. The man bit your lip, releasing a soft growl before breaking the kiss. 

In a blink, Keanu flipped you around and bent you over his motorcycle, ripping your panties down your thighs. A shiver crossed your body as the cool air of the garage hit your hot core. You could hear your husband shuffling around, whispering sweet nothings as you were bent over and so exposed for him. 

A weak ‘Please’ left your lips at the anticipation; causing the man to smirk and grasp your ass before his fingers delve themselves into your pussy. The two of you released waves of pleasure at the sensation, it overcoming your senses.

“Missed you,” Keanu whimpered, “Missed this.” He added, this thumb playing with your clit while two fingers pumped in and out slowly. Streams of moans and pleads left your lips in a rush, only wanting him to fill you more and whole. The mans free hand smacked down on your bum, causing you to squirm from the mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Fuck me, please,” You whined, turning your head just enough to see your husband. He stood stoic over your compromised figure, a proud smirk covering his face at the domination. The man had a thing for that, he definitely liked to be in control. 

In one fluid motion, the man removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock; filling you completely. Loud moans echoed in the garage, amplifying the overall stimulation of the situation. His hands hooked onto your hips, holding you tightly in place as he slowly began to pump. You tried your best, given the position, to reach down and rub your clit; however Keanu swatted away your hand, instead rubbing it himself. 

Strings of curses and filthy words left your mouth, while praises and ‘good girl’’s left your husbands. With each thrust, your mind became more and more clouded, leaving no coherent thoughts to even be. Keanu’s callused thumb rubbing your clit only added to the haze.

“Oh, Ke,” You sighed, holding onto the motorcycle as the man pounded into you from behind. The familiar warmth of an orgasm began to bubble in your lower belly, and you frantically chased that intoxicating feeling; beginning to throw back your hips in time with his thrusts. 

“I’m gonna-” You didn’t even get to finish before a strangled cry left your throat as you came. Your husband didn’t slow, he only sped up his thrusts in a haste to chase that feeling as well. His fingers digging in your hips were definitely going to bruise, but you didn’t care. 

Keanu’s thrusts began to falter as he got closer until he too moaned softly, leaning over and biting your shoulder as he finished deep inside of your pussy. Both of you sat there for a moment, heavy breaths echoing the cement walls. The man slowly pulled out, both of you wincing at the over stimulation. A little giggle left your throat as you pulled up your panties, feeling the slick still coat your thighs slightly. Your husband tucked himself away, giving you a smirk before pulling you up against his now sweaty figure.

“We should go to bed,” You murmured, your brain and body stuck in a fuzzy feeling. Keanu nodded, kissing your forehead softly. He momentarily let go, grabbing your pajama shorts from the ground and handing them to you, a triumphant look upon his face. 

“C’mon darling.” He spoke, wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you towards the door.

---

[inkberrry]

Early to Rise

Cove wakes the morning after spending the night with Astarion to find him still beside her. With the camp still quiet they share another few moments together. A little deviation from the morning after the camp celebration scene because I crave the soft things in life.

(a tiny bit of smut, mostly soft things though. Read below or on ao3 )

She felt weak — a bit dizzy, her head heavy, fingers and toes slightly numb. The thin bedroll she’d managed to scavenge was pulled up tight around her, curled into the cervices of her body. Her back was cold; colder yet than the rest of her, like she was leaning against slate left out in the snow.

Cove shivered, at first not recalling the events of the night before. It was only when arms pulled her closer, wrapped around her middle, her skin bare to the warmth leeching touch of another, that she remembered. She smiled, turning her head just slightly. A mass of curled hair, white as the snow she imagined, greeted her, along with the press of lips against her shoulder.

“Good morning my dear.”

Astarion’s voice was quiet in the otherwise silence of camp. It held no hint of sleep, and for a brief moment Cove wondered if he did sleep, or if he had lay awake all night, his limbs wrapped with hers, his breathing chilling her skin. She huddled deeper into the blanket, pushed further back into him seeking warmth that was not to be found.

“Morning,” she repeated, testing out her voice. It was hoarse at first, evidence of muffled gasps and heavy breathing from what must have been only hours previous. The memory brought the morning’s first bit of heat to her in the form of flushed cheeks and a skipped beat of her heart.

When she received only a second press of Astarion’s lips in answer she went on, filling the quiet with her own hushed voice.

“I wasn’t sure if you would still be here this morning. Not here in general, I mean. Here… right here.”

Cove felt the short huff of Astarion’s breath as he chuckled. He lifted his head finally and she met his eyes, somewhat deeper red than she recalled.

“Well I couldn’t very well leave you alone, could I?” he asked, and Cove’s gaze caught on his teeth as he spoke, sharp and long. He noticed her interest, and curled his lips back into a sly grin as he leaned in closer. “You’re playing a dangerous game, lover. I should think one bite is enough for now. I would hate to lose this warmth.”

Alongside his words, Astarion’s hand crept up Cove’s middle, settling between her breasts. She shivered once again, though due to the ice-like sensation of his touch or other, more heated matters she couldn’t say. She leaned back, exposing the length of her neck, and watched as Astarion’s eyes lingered on two small marks she knew to be there.

“It is lovely though,” he continued, and brought his mouth to the spot, kissing the wound. “You are incredibly difficult to resist.”

Cove held her breath while Astarion’s lips moved above her neck. When he finished speaking she turned in his arms, pressing her front against his.

“I think that’s obvious,” she teased, and reached down between his legs, stroking the hardness that had begun to rise.

“Oh, and a jester too, are you?” Astarion’s retort was quick, but his sharp intake of breath at her touch quicker. It evened out the longer Cove moved her hand, steadying to match her slow, deliberate rhythm. His eyes closed for a moment, then opened to watch her, studying the subtle shifts in her expression as she grew more invested in her task.

“Oh dear gods,” he mumbled, and moved his hands to grip her waist, his fingers caressing her just as much as digging in. “One day you will have to tell me how a sheltered acolyte became so skilled.”

Cove laughed softly, punctuating her words with a firm squeeze of her fingers.

“Just because I grew up in a temple doesn’t mean I was sheltered.”

 Maybe one day she would tell him more of her life, and maybe that same day he would share more of his. There were secrets there, hiding in both their hearts. Memories and fears and good things, too. Cove found herself hoping the day did come, that this night and now morning of intimacy flowed into something more. But for now she wouldn’t press too hard, and appreciated he seemed to show the same restraint. With the threat of the tadpole every hour worming itself further into their brains it was all they could do to take one day at a time.

And this day, the sun now cresting along the riverbank, creeping up the blankets that hid their acts from any early risers, was enough for now. Astarion’s bracing kisses, his cold lips moving firmly against hers, his hands tugging her close, was enough.

With a few more practiced strokes she finished Astarion off, his release ending in him pulling her along as he shifted onto his back. He blinked up at the sunlight, the fresh morning rays painting his face. Cove thought she saw a patch of color there, high along his cheekbones. The start of his exposure to the sun, changing his pallid complexion. Or perhaps it was a trick of the light, or her own imagining. Either way, she kissed the area, receiving a curious look from Astarion in response.

“Well that was oddly delicate,” he said, and reached up to hold her chin between his fingers, his thumb ghosting over her bottom lip. He smiled, a touch of previously masked gentleness rounding out his features. “I quite liked that. Do it again another time, my dear.”

Cove nodded in promise, tucking the thought of another time away for later. Yes, she thought, snuggling herself closer for just a moment longer before she knew they must rise. One day at a time was more than enough.

[passionate-reply]

This week, on Great Albums, we finally get around to discussing an industrial album--and we’ve started with one of the best there is, from the OGs themselves: Throbbing Gristle! (No, it isn’t jazz funk, I promise.) As always, full transcript under the break.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be talking about one of the most important albums in the history of industrial music, and certainly one of the most...infamous. If you’ve ever noticed this album hanging on my wall in my other videos, you may well have wondered how an album that looks like this fits in with the rest of the stuff that’s up there. This record is the pioneering industrial group Throbbing Gristle’s classic 20 Jazz Funk Greats, and it’s essentially a bait and switch. It looks like a dorky, “family band” record from the bargain bin, but when you put it on, it sounds like this:

Music: “What a Day”

...well, not really. I’ve fibbed a bit here, much like Throbbing Gristle lied to you with this album cover. “What a Day,” one of the most sonically abrasive tracks on this album, is actually the second to last track! They take a little time to warm you up to the heavier stuff, actually. The first two tracks, the title track and “Beachy Head,” are still not really “jazz funk” by anybody’s standards, but they ARE decidedly softer than some of the other stuff you’ll encounter here.

Music: “20 Jazz Funk Greats”

Things arguably don’t start really heating up until we reach the third track on the album: “Still Walking,” which introduces us to ear-splitting distortion, rapid, disorienting percussion, and buried, albeit deeply ominous vocals, sounding like the first “typical” Throbbing Gristle track. It’s dense and almost comically busy, almost exhausting to listen to--and yet we have only just begun.

Music: “Still Walking”

So, where do we go from here? 20 Jazz Funk Greats wouldn’t be the legendary album that it is, if it was a one-note knock-knock joke, a jack in the box that emerges fully within the first few minutes of the album. What I think it really excels at is its ability to keep us on our toes throughout its entire runtime--it goes back and forth between showing a slightly friendlier face, and peeling back the skin of that face to show us the gory skull underneath. The whole thing vibrates along that contrast. Side two of the album, for instance, opens with one of Throbbing Gristle’s best-known tracks: “Hot on the Heels of Love.”

Music: “Hot on the Heels of Love”

Positioned squarely in the middle of the track listing, and at the crucial point of opening the second side, “Hot on the Heels of Love” certainly seems crucial to the album. It reads as a sort of dark parody of Giorgio Moroder’s famous “I Feel Love,” in which the voice of Donna Summer stands nakedly alone in a sea of pulsating synthesisers. It’s a pretty quick rebuttal, too, given that “I Feel Love” was released just the year before! Despite those sultry, breathy vocals, courtesy of Cosey Fanni Tutti, there’s no mistaking this one for a disco hit--not with its harsh hi-hats and gritty, highly textural synth scrapes. “Hot on the Heels of Love” features minimal lyrics--and they’re almost insultingly vapid--but 20 Jazz Funk Greats also features two prominent tracks that are much heavier in lyrical content, which I like to think as complementary to one another: “Convincing People” and “Persuasion,” which appear on the first and second side of the LP, respectively.

Music: “Convincing People”

Taken alone, “Convincing People” is weird, but it’s so vague and disorganised that it’s hard to come to a firm conclusion about what’s going on the first time you hear it. Unlike “Still Walking,” the fairly minimal instrumental accompaniment makes it easy enough to make out what the words are, without the sleeve handy. But it’s also so repetitive that it’s bound to infect you with semantic satiation, and fog up your brain’s ability to pay attention to those lyrics. The clearest statement “Convincing People” seems to be making is that you’ll never convince people when you come across as someone who’s trying to be convincing...well, alright, I suppose. But what really gives this song a darker significance is its counterpart on the flip, “Persuasion.”

Music: “Persuasion”

Abrasive numbers like “What a Day” and “Still Walking” are physically uncomfortable to listen to, but “Persuasion,” like the earlier Throbbing Gristle number “Slug Bait,” unnerves you with its lyrics instead. It takes up the mantle of a narrator who’s clearly a predatory, sexually violent character, and once again, a fairly simple instrumental makes us confront this vile subject matter head-on, as though we are alone in the room with this creep. “Persuasion” and “Convincing People” are actually extremely similar, but the biggest difference between them is that “Persuasion” is the escalation of their shared basic idea, with its much more explicit lyrics, and use of dissonant, unpredictable human screaming sounds. It’s actually a great metaphor for understanding how this album works--it gradually pushes our boundaries as we listen, worming its way into our consciousness like some masterful manipulator. And it dovetails with how Throbbing Gristle frontman Genesis P-Orridge would later style herself as a charismatic cult leader, with varying shades of irony, in later projects related to “Thee Temple ov Psychic Youth.” As we’ve recently been told, you don’t convince people by coming across as someone trying to be convincing. Or do you?

As I alluded to in the beginning, the name and cover design of 20 Jazz Funk Greats are a sort of musical booby trap, to hopefully ensnare innocent victims. It’s not jazz or funk, it doesn’t have twenty tracks, and its seemingly quaint cover photo, featuring the band in sunny surroundings, actually has a dark secret: the spot it was taken at, Beachy Head, is the most popular suicide destination in Europe, and one of the most popular worldwide. It’s Britain’s highest sea cliff, a stark, sheer wall of chalk that looms over the English Channel, and just a few feet away from where Throbbing Gristle are standing, people regularly throw themselves off of it. It’s a place where delicate natural beauty meets the profound human sickness sown by our twisted, exploitative industrial world. It’s just one more insidious detail, that heightens the cruel spirit of the album’s visual identity. It’s worth remembering that Throbbing Gristle were, first and foremost, provocateurs. I think that may be a better way to think about them overall, compared to thinking of them as “musicians.”

In my day, I’ve often seen 20 Jazz Funk Greats recommended as a good introduction to Throbbing Gristle, and to industrial music as a genre, more broadly. Industrial is one of the very few genres of music that was given its common name by an artist and not an outside critic--and we have Throbbing Gristle to thank for coining it, so they’re inarguably industrial royalty. Their catalogue remains indispensable to understanding what industrial is about--like so many acts we consider seminal or foundational, the seeds contained here inform a great deal of subsequent music. The problem, though, is where to begin, since they were arguably more of a jam band than a studio act, with legendary live performances that probably influenced other artists much more than anything they ever pressed on wax. Their discography is hairy, peppered with live recordings, non-album A-sides, and releases whose official vs. bootleg status is unclear. If you’re looking for a traditional album listening experience--as many music enthusiasts often are--it’s hard to do better than 20 Jazz Funk Greats.

At the same time, though, I think there’s something to be said for respecting the fact that Throbbing Gristle were never trying to offer anyone a traditional listening experience. Just the opposite! 20 Jazz Funk Greats is a Great Album, for sure, and it’s also a bit more of a softball than some of their other work, which arguably makes it a bit more accessible. But is it really all that fair to try and wring an “accessible” experience from a band like Throbbing Gristle, when it isn’t particularly representative of their work? Or is it better to meet them head on and try to tackle them on what appear to have been their own terms? If you’re new to them, but want to understand Throbbing Gristle and feel literate in their work, I think I might recommend their 1981 “greatest hits” compilation, Entertainment Through Pain, better than I would any of their proper albums--particularly if you’re like me, and prefer their more aggressive cuts to the ambient ones.

Music: “Adrenalin”

I think my favourite track is “Walkabout,” even though I would argue it’s one of the least “industrial” sounding tracks here. It isn’t heavy, rhythmic, or sludge-textured, but instead serves as a sort of “breather” between “Persuasion” and “What a Day,” a brief, floating melody that drifts by like a cirrus cloud. It’s both playful as well as devious, wedging itself between some of the hardest-hitting stuff, looking like it might be a reprieve, but ultimately leading right back into harsh musical territory--like an abuser love bombing you between some of their worst behaviour. Perhaps “Walkabout” is something like a masochist’s after-care, a moment of healing and cooldown after the excesses of simulated abuse. Or perhaps it’s the stillness and disquiet peace of the grave, for those who meet their end at the hands of “Persuasion”’s narrator? Ambiguity and possible irony are an integral part of Throbbing Gristle’s particular danse macabre...so I’ll leave the rest of the interpreting up to you. Thanks for watching!

Music: “Walkabout”

[linseelooo]

To my great surprise, there are some followers still out there! Hi ladies! I responded on the original message...I hope that the correct way to do it these days...

Jesus could I sound any older??

Anywhozzles, lets do a quick update shall we?

Ok, last I left I gave birth to our littlest one Davis. He’s now 3. I know. Crazy.

Around 6ish months, I got a call from the babysitter that Davis was injured. Curtis got him before I did and checked him out and said he looked fine, minus a reddish bruise on the side of his head. A few days later that bruise swelled and we rushed him to the ER. He had suffered a skull fracture and had a minor brain bleed. We were sent by ambulance to the big city and released about 24 hours or so later. I quit my job that day and haven’t gone back. There’s a lot more too it, a CPS case, lawsuit, the babysitter trying to BLACKLIST me in our town with other sitters (like I can trust anyone with my kid again anyways), CPTSD-awakening (it’s what I’m calling it), and so many bad feelings. It was bad and I promise one day, I will share that story. Today is not that day.

In the CPTSD-awakening, I started therapy. Would you believe it, my childhood was SHITTY & being groomed then molested by my older Stepbrother wasn’t a “relationship” that I spent my WHOLE life (since I was 10?11?) ashamed of cause I thought I was a “sex obsessed child” & my mom probably had BPD & my stepdad is actually a Narcissist? I was SHOCKED and it literally fucked up my whole world. I cut off my Mom and Dad, which was fine til I cut them off from my kids. My mom simultaneously was sending me love cards, but calling my family in Florida and New York crying about how I took her grand babies from her (they would then harass me on FB until I deleted and blocked every.last.one). It was manipulative as fuck. Then May 2020, I got a call that she had died and my stepfather & siblings weren’t going to tell me. This also came from a step-sibling who later deleted and blocked me. The ONLY proof I have that my mother is dead, is the phone call I got from the ER doctor. And some text messages from my baby sister asking how I found out and if I remembered that my mom died thinking I hated her and I “get to live with that”. I never could find an obituary or any type of service that occurred, but it was in the thick of quarantine & apparently it had to be the great secret kept from yours truly. So, that opened another can of worms in therapy and apologies I’ll never get, but in a way she freed me. I have ZERO ties to my “family” now. She took all that with her when she left. It was a lesson that was a bitch to learn (still learning it tbh), but it may be the best one she taught me. The dreams that she’s still alive and just playing a joke on me are the worst though.

We recently bought our dream home and I’m gladly living my life as the ‘Queen of his Double Wide Trailer’ (please tell me you know that song). I went balls deep on my “farm” and got chicks and a pig to go with my dog and hens. Well, my dog decided that he prefers to eat animals rather then guard them, so he began to go after my hens and even my pig. Well, St. Patty’s Day he got my pig, who had to be put down. We then also made the decision to get rid of the dog. He had nipped at some of my male friends and even nipped some of the teenage boys. Once he ate my Dwight, I hated him. So, our little country life is having a bit of a rough start, but we’re not giving up. We’ll get some more animals soon, and I’ll do better research on dog breeds before I commit to a dog again. I’m finally in the country and I am waking up feeding animals and I guess, living out the life I always wanted. It’s all the things they said I couldn’t have. I’m going after all of it and sometimes I worry that I’m a bit cursed since it’s kinda going sideways (that little voice in our head can be SO LOUD), but I think that the most important part is that we haven’t given up. We won’t give up.

We are, coincidentally, starting court against Baby Mama again now. It’s been a lot with that crazy troll, including her having ANOTHER baby and not letting our son get his permit. He turned 16 in December and can’t get a job or even practice driving (even though he PASSED his permit test) because she’s a TWAT and won’t sign a form that says she gives her permission. It’s been so frustrating to deal with and I have so much built up rage that I both hope she shows up at my house, but also that I don’t have to see her or her TWATY mother. God that woman pisses me off so badly.

I think that’s all the major events. There’s been lots of other little things I’m missing, I’m sure, but I’ll remember most of it someday. Maybe.

Any questions that you got, shoot them my way! How is everyone else? I’m about to go stalk posts to catchup lol

[its-warm-in-here]

This is an early draft of an Astarion x Ofc thing that might continue. Buuuuut it may not go that direction. Im not sure! I haven't written for a fun in a while and hopefully I can actually see this though. Nothing explicit! hardly anything but a start

In all honesty, she had smelled fantastic. And in his defense, he was very, very hungry. It was hardly an uncommon habit at this point. Astarion knew his companions were aware that sipping her blood has become almost a nightly ritual here in the underdark. Still, as Wyll fired a blast of eldritch energy into the bulette, his gaze was firmly locked to the vampire’s teeth affixed to the inside of her wrist. Her wrist! It was hardly the most scandalous place he could have bitten her. Nizana hardly seemed to mind the nip. He had caught her arm on the way to nock an arrow and she didn’t even hesitate to extend it to him. Astarion released her, quickly pecking a quick kiss to her warm skin. She fired her shot without a second thought and the shaft impaled itself into one of the beast’s eyes.

 Yet, he could feel the warlock’s eyes glaring cinders into his skull. Astarion swiped his open palm against the hard scales of the bulette, leaving a greenish line of necrosis as he did. Inwardly, Astarion groaned at the thought of having to put up with another one of the lad’s righteous anecdotes which he knew would soon follow.

The thing leapt. This time outwardly, he groaned again. He supposed it could be called graceful. For the large monstrosity that it was. It always seemed to know just where to fling itself and send at least two of them flying. In this case he and Shadowheart. Astarion barely had time to register the stab of pain in the back of his skull when the bulette’s jaws snapped hungrily above him. With little grace, the elf threw himself in a half tumble away, somehow managing to make it to his feet in the process, rapier at the ready. Astarion flashed the bulette a dark smirk before plunging his blade into its thigh. The thing’s cry was piercing and suddenly Asatrion was reminded how unstable this cavern was. The floor swayed and the very air rumbled. From above, the sound of stone crumbling and rocks falling could be heard. Unconsciously, he hunkered a bit lower to the ground. 

Then came a crunch and a squelch. Another piercing cry was cut short as Lae’zel’s warhammer burst through it’s skull. With a heave, she brought the weapon down a second time, the beast letting out one last whimper before collapsing to the hollow ground. Lae’zel brought the hammer above her head a third and final time; she took in a deep breath and let out an echoing victory cry. 

Astarion sliced his bloodied rapier through the air before him, then delicately swiped the blade between his gloved fingers. “Excellent show, my dear, but do be careful to not bring the ceiling down on us, won’t you?”  He gave the sword one last flick befor replacing it at his hip. 

The gith hopped from her position on her kill’s head. “Chkt. Would you rather that thing slither off and come after us again? I would not,” she scoffed. 

“You bashed it’s brains in, I doubt its slithing anywhere,” he put plainly. She waved him away with another scoff, no longer interested in his opinions. 

It wasn’t long before they were back on the path. The bulette held nothing of interest and they had little reason to hang around this territory any longer. And of course Wyll was side eyeing him. Astarion’s lip twitched, threatening to turn into a smug smile. The warlock wasn’t even subtle about the disapproval. Still, Astarion composed himself, keeping his expression blank as possible. “Is something bothering you, Wyll?” he asked, biting back as much malice as he could muster. 

“Hm?” Wyll looked him dead in the face, the resentment suddenly hidden, but not gone, “Nothing. Well, I was wondering why you would think draining us in a fight would be a good idea.” 

Astarion opened his mouth to respond, venomed words at the ready. 

“We already discussed it,” Nizana cut him off. “There’s not much he can hunt down here and I don’t mind.” 

“Really.”

A lie. Astarion quirked a brow at her backside, the smirk he’d been trying to hide breaking into full over his features. “Yes, we want me at my best, especially down here,” he quickly agreed. 

“Look, we don’t need our archer light headed because you needed a pick me up,” Wyll said. He wasn’t hostile. “Nizana, we need you at your best too.” 

She rolled her shoulders and turned back from her position to look them up and down. “It’ll be easier on me if he doesn't drain me dry all in one sitting. I can make my shots.” Wyll gave her a conflicted frown which made Astarion’s eye’s roll. With a sigh, she added, “If it becomes a problem, we,” Nizana gestured between her and Astarion, “will address it. It is my blood, you know.” 

Wyll’s frown deepened, but he let out a defeated sigh, “You’re right, it’s none of my business. Just, don’t let it become my business, alright?” He flashed a good hearted smile.

“Believe me, we will not,” Astarion added flatly. 

-

It wasn’t long before they stopped to rest. Camping in the underdark was different from the surface, that was certain. There was too much light for one thing. Too many of the plants would glow. Even the cavern ceiling and walls were luminescent in places. Disappearing away into the night was much more difficult when all times of the day were equally well lit. Still, slipping away after dinner wasn’t too hard. He found Nizana a few levels down, atop an outcropping of giant mushrooms. The drow greeted him with a half smile. 

Astarion took a seat next to her on the orange fungus. “Here I was, impressed that you would lie to a stranger without my ask. But our companions?” he let a hand trail up her back, all the way up her spine to her back of her neck. “And I thought you counted Wyll as a friend." 

Nizana shivered at his cool touch, "It's not like he couldn't find out if he wanted to." She taped her ring and middle finger to her temple. The worm in his head shifted in response. 

"So lying for me, and taking advantage of our resident monster hunter's good nature," he notes with a touch of pride. 

"It's like I said; I don't mind," again Nizana brushed her short hair away from her jugular. The puncture wounds at her throat had become an ever present adornment ever since arriving here. Astarions thumb left the nape of her neck, and instead gently teased over the bite. She was bruised, that much was certain. Her dark grey skin was nearly purple around the abrasion. It bloomed rather nicely near her collar bone, Astarion decided. Like lavender, or maybe a lilac. Either way, it suited her.  

He let out a hum as she fell back onto the spongey surface, "You know,I think you might enjoy this as much as I do."