#there is legit no one else I would want in my home

[noellawrites]

Hi there! How would the yandere svu guys propose?

oooh i love this! bold of you to think they might actually "propose" naturally LOL. this is just my take but feel free to pitch in with what you think!

Rafael Barba is going to be very strategic with his proposal. He's not taking no for an answer, but he also doesn't want to be humiliated with a rejection. He makes his mama and grandma spend a day with you, and then meets you three at a ritzy NYC restaurant for dinner. He's not getting down on one knee, he's too old for that. Instead, he puts his hand on yours and opens the ring box. It's insanely ornate and expensive, but you'd expect nothing less from Rafael Barba. You look up and see his soft smile. With his mama and grandma there, of course you say yes.

Nick Amaro is gonna get one of those rings that has thorns and legit hurts to remove (like Megan Fox's— google it). He's gonna put it on your ring finger when you're sleeping and give you a big smile when he sees your confusion. Of course he's not giving you a choice, he's "the man" of the relationship. He gets off on this dynamic. You're now going to take care of Gil and Zara, and take care of the home while Nick's working. He's had too many failed relationships, he's not gonna risk things this time.

Mike Dodds has some cutesy romantic thing planned, probably something like a walk by the Hudson. He doesn't plan for a rejection, but if you do reject him, he's gonna give you that brokenhearted puppy expression and you'll reverse your words quickly. His dad is really proud and helped him pick out the flashiest engagement ring. Of course, this is only after Dodds Sr. has fully vetted you. I mean, where else do you think Mike learned these yandere traits from?

Sonny Carisi makes his proposal soooo romantic. He's asked all of his sisters for help, not wanting to risk you saying no. He’ll pick a public place so you’ll feel obligated to say yes and be excited as he declares his undying love for you. The night you get engaged, you bet he’s gonna try for multiple rounds to knock you up. Now there’s a ring on your finger and he has the power in the relationship, so you can’t disagree.

[rowanhoney]

can’t express how wonderful the changes have been in my life this past month. I’m beyond grateful and so full of love and joy

[callsignbaphomet]

"Reasons to not kiss him...

You weren't raised to love tender.

When he's around you all you do is tremble. When he's around you want to get on your knees. Look how much power he has over you. It's dangerous.

He's too good at forgiving and you're too good at violence.

You know what they say about monsters. You know what happens to the boys that love them. Are you going to do that to him?

Your hands don't know how to be gentle. Think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms. The fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. You wolf-boy. You war machine. You wouldn't know how to hold something magic and not destroy it.

If you hurt him it might kill you.

If you hurt him they'll say it was only a matter of time.

If you hurt him you might kill yourself.

You are very bad at rehabilitation. This is one addiction you'd fail to give up. He's going to ruin you for all other kisses and all other boys and you'll spend the rest of your life trying to forget his name.

You still aren't sure he isn't a dream.

If you kiss him you might wake up.

Reasons to kiss him...

Because he's beautiful.

Because he asked.

Because he preceded please with I'm not afraid of you.

Because life wasn't real until he was to you."

[happygomadhatter]

just realized that the reason i told my parents i felt sick so often as a kid was bc i had mental illness and didn't know how to express that so to stay home from school i just went with something i knew had worked in the past, like i feel nauseous, or i have a headache

[bluejeanstrash]

11/10

a/n: i got this idea from an nsfw prompt generator so if anyone else has already done this, that could be why ✌️

tags: fwb! seungcheol, overstimulation, semi-dacryphilia, forced orgasms

w/c: 2.3k

in hindsight, telling the most competitive guy you know that you may or may not be faking your orgasms with him was probably not the best idea.

it was just 4 hours ago when jun had suggested a game of truth or drink. and it was just 3 hours 45 minutes ago when he had asked you ‘have you ever faked an orgasm?’

‘yeah?’ you’d answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. and because whatever was in that alcohol was making you loose-lipped, you had continued.

‘in fact-’ a pause ‘-and i’m not proud of this, but i’m really good at it. the guy could never tell’

there was an immediate murmur of we can tell around the table but you interrupted.

‘trust me, you can’t. those guys still think they’ve given me the best sex of my life but they were horrible. i faked it so i could get done with it and go home’ you took a sip of your drink despite answering.

‘so, anyway, yes i’ve faked it. many times’ you had concluded, looking directly at seungcheol when you said that. you didn’t mean to look at him, he was just there in your line of sight.

he also had this funny expression on his face, somewhere between amused and offended.

were you trying to tell him something?

seungcheol and you were in a (secret) friends with benefits thing. you didn’t really call it that but that’s what it was. it had happened as a result of another game of truth or drink around 3 months ago, and thankfully, every orgasm with him in those 3 months had been very much legit.

so, when you’d seen him outside the bathroom later you’d clarified.

‘you know i wasn’t talking about you, right?’ you reassured.

‘of course you weren’t’ he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it had annoyed you. no man should be that confident.

‘oh? confident much?’

he’d leaned in, a little too close for being in public, and said ‘i may not know a lot of things...but i know how to make a woman cum’

and as his thumb softly grazed your lips, he’d stated ‘i know how to make you cum’

‘do you?’ you retorted, moving back ‘or have i been faking it and you just think you’re doing a good job?’

you don’t know why but you kind of wanted to piss him off. i mean sure, you were sleeping with him, but seungcheol was your friend before a fuck and it was always fun messing with him. 

‘what are you trying to do?’ he’d asked, an eyebrow raised in mild annoyance.

is this a challenge?

‘i’m not trying to do anything’ big. fat. lies. ‘i’m just saying you’d never know’

sounds like a challenge to him.

(12:40 am)

‘please, no more!’ you move under his arms, writhing desperately.

‘answer the question’ he holds you in place, his grip tightening around you.

‘how many was that?’

‘f-fou-r’

‘did you fake that one?’ he asks softly.

‘no, i didn’t! i fucking swear!’ 

‘hmmn’ you feel a trail of gentle kisses travel up your neck ‘but you said i would never know, remember?’ 

seungcheol’s voice sounds sweet. so very sweet. but you know that tone—it's pure condescension masquerading as sweetness.

right now, you’re sitting on the floor, back pressed to seungcheol’s chest, locked in his heavy arms. 

after jun’s, he’d offered to drive you home, which had recently become code for ‘let’s go fuck’. and before you could even kiss him at your apartment, he’d grabbed your vibrator.

he’d made you sit in front of the floor length mirror, nestled in between his legs, with a towel laid out underneath as he played with you. were you getting pampered today? maybe.

it sure felt like it after the first orgasm, and the second. but when he’d moved on to your third before you were even done with the last, you realised what this was. a lesson. a lesson for running your mouth.

‘another one then, just to be sure’ he hums, before pressing the vibrator back against your clothed cunt.

40 minutes in and seungcheol hadn’t even bothered to take your panties off. there was something quite erotic about seeing that damp patch on your underwear spread as he made you cum over and over. proof, he called it. and by now you were soaked, the silky fabric clinging to your puffy lips.

you squirm at his words, fingers digging into his skin at the overstimulation. he doesn’t even flinch.

‘look what you’re making me do to you’ he clicks his tongue like it’s a pity. like he doesn’t fucking love it.

‘you know i want to let you go, right? but we just have to be sure so there’s no confusion about this in the future’

subtext: if you ever fucking insinuate that i can’t make you cum, i’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.

you try and wriggle again, but there’s no point—you’re completely at his mercy.

‘tsk, don’t move around so much. you should rest now. you’ll need the energy’ he cooes.

you can only whine helplessly at his words as you feel your brain and body consumed by a familiar high. and so you cum again, moaning his name as you do.

‘how many?’ he asks while you’re still coming down from it.

‘f-five’ 

‘did you fake that one?’

you tell him you didn’t. you promise.

‘are you sure about that?’ 

‘i’m sure! seungcheol please’

‘hmmn’ for a second there he actually contemplates letting you go but your cocky little words ring in his ear.

‘i’m not’ sadistic fuck. and once again you feel the relentless vibration as you jerk forward, your legs clamping shut. immediately, seungcheol drags you back, his lips gathered in a pout of displeasure as he drapes one heavy leg over yours to spread you open. 

‘where are you going? hmmn?’ he presses the head against your throbbing clit, not letting up for even a second as he forces another orgasm out of you. your sixth.

drained. that’s how you feel after you cum, your body falling limp against his. ‘seungcheol, i’m done’ you whine feebly, hoping to garner a little sympathy.

‘no, no’ he shushes you ‘we’re not close to being done here. i haven’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. how can we be done?’

he leans forward, two fingers grabbing the fabric of your wet panties to pull them aside. ‘how pretty’ he smiles, gaze fixated on your slick cunt, and a split second later you hear the hum of the vibrator again. the second it touches your exposed cunt, a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

‘f-fuck’ you curse, feeling that knot in your stomach just a few minutes later.

‘coming already?’ he taunts as you end up giving him another. 

‘that makes seven’ he counts it for you like he’s helping you out. you’re not sure how far he wants to push you today, but you do know you need to make it easier for you somehow.

‘please…can’t anymore…the vibrator’ you manage to string together in between quick gasps. the intensity of it against your swollen clit is too much. you need relief—something soft, something warm, something gentle—like seungcheol’s fingers. 

after what seems like forever, the buzzing stops. ‘thank you’ you whimper and are met with a wry chuckle, his body shaking behind you.

‘you shouldn’t thank me yet’ he whispers. one of his big hands wraps around your throat giving it a light squeeze before sliding down your body to your cunt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

‘so wet for someone who’s faking it’ he mutters to himself, thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds as he scoops up your arousal, pushing it back inside you. his finger slips in so easily that he adds a second. as he fucks you, fingers moving in and out, a vulgar squelching noise fills the room.

‘so fucking wet’ the softness of his voice now layered with something heavier. you can tell feeling you with his bare hands must’ve really turned him on. or at least that’s what his hard on pressing into your back is saying.

as you watch his fingers disappear inside you and come out all slick and shiny, your body somehow starts to crave another orgasm. 

he knows it too. the way your walls begin to squeeze around him as he curls his fingers up, two stimulating your g-spot, while his thumb rubs your clit, all working up an incredibly hard orgasm. 

‘go on…let me see you cum for me’ his voice is all you needed to hear, because a second later you come, for the eight time, gushing all over his fingers. 

‘look at yourself’ he commands.

you do, looking lazily at your reflection through tired eyes.

‘look’ he grabs your face, forcing you to look.

‘what’s that dripping out of you?’

your eyes drop to the towel that has a very telling wet patch on it. getting overstimulated with the vibrator always made you a little messy but not like this; never like this.

‘answer me’

‘cum’ and so much of it. the way it’s stained the towel, the way it’s spread all over your inner thighs, and the way it’s still dripping out of you is such a pretty sight for seungcheol.

but you’re exhausted. it was so intense and there’s no way you can do it again. 

‘seungcheol…i don’t have any left in me’ he can’t help but smile at your silly little statement.

‘no?’ he plays along, pulling you closer. his one hand grabs your breast, softly caressing it, before taking your nipple in between his fingers. his other, slides down to your swollen clit to rub in slow circles. and finally, his soft lips kiss down your neck, peppering little pecks along the way before stopping at that spot that only he knows exists. and as he stimulates all three so slowly and sensually, you feel your body start to betray you. 

‘when did you turn into such a little liar, hmm?’ he asks, feeling your body start to tense up like it always did before release. he knows this feeling, he’s felt this over and over for the past three months—you can’t fool him. and as you bite back your moans, it takes over, and you cum again. number nine. seungcheol smiles to himself, and doesn’t stop.

he keeps going despite you just having given him one. it’s sore and sensitive but the way his lips have latched on to that spot on your neck it’s impossible not to surrender.

in a consistent rhythm he builds your high back up - neck. breasts. clit. you look at yourself in the reflection and god, it’s so erotic. the way he’s holding you—tight and completely under his control, his arms flexing as he masturbates you—makes you dizzy.

you want to curse and scream as you cum but you’re too overstimulated to formulate a single thought. only eager little moans spill out of your mouth.

‘go on, i know you want to’ he coaxes as you do, thrashing and tugging at the fabric of his pants.

‘i thought you had no more left in you?’ he teases as you come down from your tenth.

maybe it was a lie before but now you really don’t. isn’t 10 enough? he has to be satisfied with that. there’s a few seconds of silence when you think he might be. he lulls you into a false sense of security as your eyes fall shut, and then the sick sound of the vibrator fills the room again. no.

‘what do i need to do?’ your eyes sting with regret as you feel it touch your extremely sensitive clit.

you know what you need to do. you just don’t want to do it.

he pushes it harder, toying with you. fine.

‘i’m sorry, okay?’ a desperate apology finally spills out. 

‘i take it back! you would know if you made me cum’ you whine. he says nothing, simply increasing the intensity.

‘i’m sorry’ your voice breaks as two perfect tears roll down your cheeks. until now, seungcheol had only ever pushed you to tears from the denial of pleasure, never from too much of it. he finds it incredibly arousing.

‘you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate’ he says, looking at your pathetic reflection in the mirror. you look so pretty with those wet eyes and a dripping wet pussy that he suddenly feels forgiving.

‘cum for me again and i’ll let you go’ he kisses your neck. a wet little kiss.

‘i can’t’ you cry, tears flowing free now. ‘i can’t’ 

‘you can’ and you will for him.

‘you’re going to give me one more’ he says like you have no choice in the matter and presses the vibrator harder against you as you grab onto his arms. 

‘shhh, don’t cry. be a good girl now and cum for me again. then i’ll believe you’ he cooes.

‘show me…show me how you can’t fake it with me’

as your start to spasm, your body shaking under him, you let out a moan, half of pleasure, half of exhaustion. you grip him harder, nails leaving red scratches all over his pale skin as the orgasm takes over.

he watches, fascinated at how you’re still giving him body shaking, toe curling orgasms after this many; at how your body moves at his command. he’s satisfied.

finally, you hear the buzzing stop as he puts the vibrator away. he wraps both arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear.

‘how many was that?’

‘eleven’ you admit, not believing the number coming out of your mouth.

he smiles. god, it feels really fucking good to have been proved right 11 times. his eyes drop to the mess you’ve made—on the towel, on his hands, between your own legs and he feels extremely smug.

‘so, did you learn your lesson?’ he asks sweetly, placing a single kiss on your shoulder.

‘yes! i did. i promise!’ 

did you? well, if this is your punishment you may just have to piss him off again.

[binniesbooks]

HI FAYEEE hruuu?!?! Missed requesting fics from u uheheeu. so ermmm i watched the new txt vlog in us and holy shithffj huening got so fucking buffed rn and im legit having a huening brainrot rn😭

Soo if u dont mind, may i request a dom!hueningkai x sub!readerrr

Scenario is reader and hueningkai are only together for a few months. The boys and you went to a bar to drink and the members teased kai for being so obsessed with reader and like a "perv" type? is that what u call it IDK and reader knows kai as a like very shy type boy so its kinda hard to believe. BUT, when they get home, huening snapped and proved that he's not innocent and shit. She didint knew that huening got so strong and buff. (rest is yours to write:))

Idk if this is good enough but feel free to ignore this if u get uncomfortable with my request!!

• SWEET LIES

HK 002 .F22 2024

wc 3k

pairings slightdom!Kai x subfem!reader

warnings safe sex, slight dom heuning kai, choking, oral (f receiving), marking, spanking (+ anything else I missed)

faye's note I didn't actually expect that someone would miss requesting from me??? 😖❤️ Sorry, this took me so long to finish this too ☹️☹️ but yesss! Buff Kai! Fuck fuck fuck 🙂‍↕️

p.s. I just got home again from uni, immediately pulling out my phone to post this lolololol

It had only been five months since you started dating Heuning Kai, and each day felt like a new adventure. His smile was infectious, and his laughter was a melody that lingered long after conversations ended.

He's a sweet guy, not so shy but not so laid back. In public, he was charming, the boy-next-door type who could melt your heart with just a glance. To anyone else, including you, he seemed innocent—perhaps even a little shy.

"Kai, do you mind going with me to the grocery store after class? I've run out of stocks." You leaned a bit, whispering to your seatmate—Kai, your boyfriend.

Kai glanced back at you, giving you a reassuring smile.

"Sure, let's go later," he said, patting your head.

Eyes were always watching you. Inside the school premises, on your morning walks, in the grocery—anywhere.

You could only smile to yourself, because who wouldn't? Kai, the famous and versatile band member of your campus, started dating you. He is known to be shy among others, therefore people were shocked to see you two dating.

You held his hand, walking side by side, squeezing it thrice, silently signaling the "I love you" unknown to him.

Kai pays for your groceries most of the time. He never lets you spend a single cent, even when you insist. Therefore to at least give back to him, you often visit him with groceries and gifts too. Because even though you're independent, you feel bad that he was the only one who was spending money.

Your take on dating? 50-50.

But these days, Kai started giving you expensive gifts. He has been giving you perfumes, jewelry, clothes—anything that costs a fortune because of its brand name.

Kai is a sweet boy. The sweet and gentle type of boyfriend. Takes you on cute picnic dates to entertaining arcade ones. Kisses the top of your head, and your forehead, and intertwines your fingers. Sings a song for you, serenading you when you're sulky. --- you couldn't ask for more.

So when he invited you to one of his friends's parties, you gladly obliged.

"Y/n, do you wanna go with me to the party tomorrow night? I also want my hyungs to see you in person," he asked on one of your usual Friday movie nights.

"Mhm! Sure!" Of course, you're more than happy to go with him. Your heart flutters with the thought that he will finally introduce you to his friends.

"Kai, do you wanna change places tonight? I'll sleep on the couch, take the bed," you suggested. It is because even though Kai sleeps at your place, he never sleeps beside you. He always takes the couch. It's not like he doesn't want to, he just thought that you might not like it. But you, on the other hand, think that your boyfriend is just too pure and cute, so you never ask him to sleep beside you.

"No, no! I'm okay here on the couch. Please take the bed." Kai mutters as he pulls you closer, hugging you tight and planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Are you sure? You can take the bed tonight. I don't mind."

"No, you take it. And have a good rest, pumpkin. I don't want you to have a sore body when you wake up the next morning," he says.

"'M'kay..." you muttered.

"I love you, pumpkin," he whispers.

"I love you, Kai." You pulled away and stared at him for a while. Kai's gaze drops down to your lips as he gulps. It didn't escape your sight, you felt your heart thump a little harder. Is it bad that you want to kiss him too?

He quickly averts his gaze, pulling the pillow towards his body. "Goodnight, pretty. Sleep tight, yeah?" He smiled at you as he laid down on the couch. He watched you trudge towards your bedroom, grunting when he heard the soft thud of the wooden door.

Kai drapes his arm over his eyes, gently shoving another pillow on his lower half.

The atmosphere was electric when you arrived at the bar the next night. The dimly lit space echoed with laughter and music, a vibrant backdrop to the chaotic energy of his friends.

You felt a thrill in your chest, happy to be part of his world, to finally meet his friends. "Hyung, this is y/n, my girlfriend." Kai proudly introduced you to his friends.

You waved your hand and meekly muttered a soft hi.

"Are you sure about Kai?" one of them asked with a playful tone. He's tall, but among the five of them, you can tell he's the shortest.

"Hyunggg!" Kai pouts.

"Hey, don't be like that!" A tall and fair-skinned guy chimes. "My name is Soobin, you can just call me Bin. Nice to meet you," he added as he reached out his hand.

You smiled at him and shook his hand. "This guy is Taehyun, don't mind his comments, you won't predict anything that comes out of his mouth," Soobin chuckles, emitting laughter from the other.

"Hi pretty, I'm Yeonjun, you can call me Jjun." You might be a little judgmental, but you think he's a womanizer. Just by how he winks at you—not to mention his wink isn't perfect, both eyelids closing—and also with the aura he's giving off.

"I know what you're thinking. Yeonjun Hyung is really a womanizer," the long-haired guy cackled, receiving some scolding stare and a swat on the shoulder from the Yeonjun guy.

You sweetly smiled at them as Kai pulled you closer to himself and planted a kiss on your temple. His hand almost squeezes your side as he stays silent with only a smile plastered on his face.

"Oww!" The long-haired guy dramatically cries, making you smile. His group of friends are really different from each other, yet there's something that makes them similar.

"I'm Beomgyu, by the way," he finally adds.

"Nice to meet you guys."

As the night wore on, stories poured out—a mix of warmth, and playful banter, and teasing.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he? ”One of his friends, Taehyun, said teasingly, nudging you with a grin. You nodded enthusiastically, believing in the simplicity of your love, as you glanced at Kai who has been laughing with Beomgyu. You haven't seen this side of him yet, and it makes your heart swell. He looks so comfortable with the other boys to the point that he laughs to his heart's content.

Yet as they sipped their drinks, the tone shifted slightly. “But you know he has a possessive side, right?”Soobin, with a playful wink, chimed in. The words sent a flicker of confusion through you. You couldn’t imagine Kai being anything but sweet and loving.

“No way, you guys are just kidding! He's actually gentle,” you laughed, waving the comments away. Kai caught your gaze and smiled, his boyish charm pulling at your heartstrings.

"See?" you motioned, the two older guys shrugging with a wide grin.

The night continued, filled with games and laughter, but the whispers about his “other side” lingered in the back of your mind.

You returned home, feeling conflicted but convinced of your own truth.

Once inside your apartment, you were greeted by the comforting silence of solitude. But the peace was short-lived. Just as you began to relax, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps behind you. It was Kai, his presence instantly filling the space with warmth. The guys actually insisted Kai to escort you home as you were already tipsy.

“Hey, I'll be on the couch, okay? Just tell me if you need anything,” he said softly, stepping closer. The way he looked at you made your heart race, but memories of the night still gnawed at your thoughts.

“I had a great time tonight!” You said, forcing a bright smile. “Your friends are… different.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Different? How?”

You hesitated, weighing how to voice what was bothering you. But the flicker of darkness in his gaze made you reconsider. “They just said you have a possessive side.”

His expression shifted, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, did they?” He mused, stepping even closer until your back met the wall, the playful tension rising between you.

"But I told them you're just... cute... and gentle... aren't you?" Your fingers fiddled on the silver necklace dangling on his chest.

Yet he moved faster than you could comprehend. With a swift motion, he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you slightly off the ground, making you sit on the drawer just beside your bedroom door, as he pressed against you. There was an intensity in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.

“Let me show you what they mean,” he whispered, a low tone that sent your thoughts spinning. In that moment, the innocence you had associated with him faded into a sultry gaze that spoke volumes.

You wanted to protest, to argue that he was cute, sweet Kai. But as his lips crashed onto yours, all coherent thoughts vanished. Every ounce of confidence you had melted away, and you felt the heat pooling between you, igniting an undeniable spark.

"K-kai..." is the only thing you were able to whisper when he pulled away for a while and lips came back crashing against yours once again. You tugged at his shirt, making sure to keep yourself grounded from everything that's happening. His kisses traveled down your neck, his hands wrapping around your back, slowly unzipping your dress.

"K-kai, please..." Kai felt his cock throbbed from your strained begging voice.

It stirred something inside him. He gently pulled down the flimsy clothing that barely covered your thighs earlier, discarding it on the floor, and leaving you in your bra and panties.

Your hands quickly flew, covering your chest as you turned beet red when he stepped back a little to admire your naked figure. His gaze felt like a black hole sucking you in. "Don't let Yeonjun hyung go anywhere near you, hm?" he warns, his hand reaching out to your face, gently brushing your cheek. "I know him too well."

And it sinks in. The question of why Kai pulled you closer to himself earlier and why he was almost squeezing your side has now been answered. You nodded, your eyes looking for praise from him. And then he moves back closer to you, prying your hands off your chest as he lifts you up and marches his way to your bedroom.

"I'm giving you the chance to stop me right now, pumpkin. I don't want our relationship to go to waste just because of a drunken mistake," he sighs, his huge figure hovering above you.

You shook your head, which made Kai shut his eyes. It seems like he was trying to calm himself.

"Pumpkin-"

"Don't stop, Kai. I need you... Please..." you whined, biting down on your lower lip. It was Kai's last straw—you begging.

He moved with such dominance, guiding the pace and intensity of the moment, the way he manhandled you filled you with a mix of excitement and exhilaration. You were at his mercy, and instead of fear, an overwhelming sense of trust washed over you.

He pulls away, "You're not gonna regret this?" he asked while removing his shirt.

It's not a secret that Kai has a big body build, given that he has a huge frame. But you're not expecting this from him, the guy in front of you is so buff that you almost refuse to believe he's Kai.

He chuckled when he saw your reaction. "Should I pick your jaw from the floor, pumpkin?"

Kai slides his hand under your head before he grabs your hand and lets you touch his firm chest. "Last chance to answer. Are you sure about this?"

"Please Kai. I've been wanting to touch you. To kiss you. To make love with you." Your eyes are glossy from how happy you are. No doubt, he's really a loving and caring boyfriend.

This time, you pulled him, kissing him in the most gentle, loving, and emotional way. His soft lips felt like a cloud on yours. His warm tongue ignites a pit of fire in your stomach. His teeth biting and grazing your lips made you reeling. He pulled away with a string of saliva hanging.

He tucks your hair behind your ear, planting another soft kiss on your forehead. However, you could feel the possessiveness he’d hinted at—the way he claimed you as his, how he sought to leave his marks on your neck and chest. You were a hundred percent sure it would leave marks for a couple of days.

He was a force, the kind of passionate energy you never knew you craved. His touches were both gentle and commanding, and soon you surrendered to the pleasure, allowing him to take control. You don't mind his dominance, right? If anything, you loved it—submitting to your buff boyfriend who's taking the lead.

Your soft mewls and moans made his cock throb once again. And it looks like he's not leaving any part of your body taken for granted.

Your lips were swollen from his kisses. Neck and shoulders littered with hickeys. The soft skin of your arm is filled with love bites. Your mounds slicked with his saliva. Your waist was marked by the tight grip of his hand. Your ass cheeks are red with his spanking. Your plush thighs were marked with how his fingernails dug at your skin. Your gummy walls are clenching on his tongue.

"Kai... K-kai... Hah.. ahh..." You're spent. Yet you're loving how his slimy tongue explored your insides. You gripped his hair, and your soft sobs of pleasure resonated within the enclosure of your room.

He carefully pulled away, licking his lips as he locked his gaze with you. "Wanna know, I don't want to share the same bed with you, pumpkin? Why don't I want to use your room?" Kai tilted his head sideways with a grin.

"W-why?" you pant.

"I can't let you hear me when I touch myself at night. I can't let you see me fuck my fist imagining it's yours. I can't sleep in your room or else I might end up cumming and soiling your bed," he chuckled, his eyes full of desire.

"Kai," you whimpered at the thought as you closed your eyes, imagining everything he just confessed.

"Maybe my friends were right after all, hm?" His fingers started prodding on your entrance. "Maybe I wasn't as innocent as you think, pumpkin. I'm sorry," he mutters, slowly pushing his digits in.

"F-fuck ahh... H-hah, Kai!" You held his wrist as you let out whiny moans. His tongue already made you see a glimpse of heaven. His fingers would totally let you fully see what heaven looks like. Your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your moans until you ended up cumming on his fingers without warning.

Too embarrassed, you covered your eyes as you saw his glistening fingers. Sticky and wet at the same time. You heard him let out a soft chuckle before a moan came from him.

You quickly open your eyes, only to him deliciously sucking his fingers with his eyes closed.

"K-kai that's dirty!" You quickly got up to stop him, but he only pulled your thighs and raised them up. Your ass now lifted from the bed as your back was gently bent. He dipped his head down on your sopping cunt as he slurped on your dripping cunt.

It felt dirty. Nasty, even. Yet Kai seems to enjoy eating you out. His eyes filled with lust when he opened them, looking at you as if you were his prey.

"D-do you mind if I p-put it on you?" you stuttered, suggesting to put the condom on him for him.

Kai hums. You quickly reached above, frantically pulling the drawers to grab the pack of condoms you bought three months ago, thinking you were gonna get laid.

He pulled his pants off, his girthy cock slapping on his abdomen, tip leaking from pre-cum.

Kai winces when you slowly roll the condom on his hard cock. The red tip looked as if it was gonna burst anytime. His hand clamped on his mouth as he watched you wrap him up, muffling any noise.

Kai sat on the bed, leaning on the headboard just beside you. "Take a seat," he motioned, tapping his lap.

As a good girlfriend, you gladly obliged. Straddling him and lifting your waist, sinking slowly on his erect cock.

Kai threw his head back, grunting at the tight feeling, gripping your waist and landing a spank on your still red ass. Yelping in pleasure, you forced all the way down, letting him fill your insides with his thickness. You buried your face on his neck as he rubbed your back, cooing at you.

"You're so good to me, baby, so good," he whispers.

He lets you feel the stretch for a little while before slowly bucking his hips up, thrusting agonizingly slow in you. His thrusts start slow and gradually add force and speed.

"Am I still innocent, pumpkin?" He asked as he pushed you away from his body, wrapping his hand around your neck, lightly squeezing it.

"Still your innocent and gentle Kai? Hm?" he taunts, even if you can't form any words to say.

Your mouth hangs open, gasping for air as he tightens his grip on your neck. You tried keeping your body still, holding on both of his shoulders.

"Fuck, you're sexy, h-hah..." he grunts. Your mind is hazy with his words and actions. It felt too much, that you started drooling.

"K-kai... B-baby..." Your words aren't almost heard as you were gasping for air.

"Let's do this often, yeah?" Kai suggested as he rams his cock inside your gummy walls.

@binniesbooks 2024

[elodieunderglass]

I am absolutely wild and feral over HDM (legit like, daemons fit SO well. I'm watching dunmeshi wondering where Laios' dog went) and super curious if you do plan a sequel or other fics following this AU??

(In reference to the His Dark Materials / Dungeon Meshi fusion fic)

thank you so much for this question I love this question god!!!! Thank you thank you thank you

God sorry about HDM being delayed, I’m going through hell over it at the moment. It’s meant to end a little after the dragon, then a timeskip epilogue, with special coding so that you can read it two different ways, depending on whether you want spoilers for the manga/season 2. (My idea is that you’ll click a button to reveal/hide it, and the spoiler-free epilogue will be like found poetry.)

Firstly, if you or anyone else would like to take the concepts/characters in His Delicious Materials forward for themselves, you must do this. You don’t need my permission (but I’d love a link! so I can read, scream, reblog, comment, link to it, etc. there is also the “inspired by” setting on ao3 so we can link works directly to HDM, forming a collection for anyone who reads one and wants more.) I don’t own any of it! We are all just having fun! YOU can be the sequel you want to see in the world! If your heart feels a way forward, then follow your heart!! A daemon AU is really about revealing character and I find them really inspiring, like adding a whole engine to a story idea.

If I were to write something to follow up, I do know what the sequel WOULD be! It would be a sort of Discworld novel about the slow social revolution occurring in the half-foots as a chain reaction to Bee settling as a weasel, all occurring behind Chilchuck’s oblivious and unhelpful back. Pushed into a sort of bottleneck of sparrow- and mouse-souls, and marginalised to the very edges of society, half-foots are precarious and endangered. Chilchuck is mostly eating a ham sandwich unhelpfully in the foreground, and at the end of the story looks back and sees to his bewilderment that his people have found a way forward (they don’t have a Shire or a Chosen One, but they do have a goddamn functional worker’s union and their own collective dignity.) kind of Discworld-commentary-comedy, kind of a loving argument with Tolkien, kind of Sharpe hostile-and-awkward-protagonist-POV-doesn’t-know-and-wouldn’t-believe-that-his-men-genuinely-love-him, kind of about the experience of parenting, and kind of gently warmly political BUT FUNNY so it would be ok. but feel it would be too much of a stretch of people’s patience and the original materials’s intentions to call it fanfic. Too many OCs needed to carry the weight, too little reference to the other Dungeon Meshi characters, almost too little “payoff” for what would be a full 70k word work. So maybe to let the story breathe, it would be better worked up as original fiction?

(Plus, that is actually an actual novel: if people write their own novels and manga about orc coffeeshops and dnd parties, I could just write my own too: wait but how do you know if you should?)

Anyway, that is an entirely separate kettle of weasels and my own cross to bear! If your heart cries out for a sequel the best way to manifest it in the world is to write it!

If you feel that A Weasel Heart In Defiance feels like it would scratch that itch, here is a bit that is mildly relevant to Dungeon Meshi, which is Chilchuck and Bee starting to work away from home while the girls were still small. You’ll probably see what I mean from it.

About seven of the village children, including his own three, had a snake in a wooden bucket. They didn't look up.

The reappearance of a random guy who functioned mostly as a postal service and occasionally shouted at them about bedtime - in a way that could be easily blanked out if something more interesting was happening - simply could not be expected to compete for attention with a snake in a bucket.

Chilchuck could recognise this on some level, but as his own children ignored him, he felt very hot and angry, in a way that he had never wanted to feel about children, especially his.

Bee, also rigidly pissed off, growled, "Easy, boss."

This was where Chilchuck did the only thing so far that he was proud of, in this day. He did not start shouting, even though his temper was going something like What the fuck, kids, but worse. He stopped, took a minute, and remembered he'd had this whole thing where he'd wanted his kids to love him. He rubbed his nose, said, "Remind me," and his daemon reminded him: "What do we want them to actually do?"

And he said, "The bare minimum fucking acknowledgement would be nice."

And Bee said, "Have we explained that to them? Do they know?"

So Chilchuck and Bee, hot and tired and cross and still on the job apparently, sat down on the ground with the kids and looked in the bucket. The snake, poor bastard, looked very limp and tired. Chilchuck could relate.

After a while, Chilchuck said, "Girls?"

Or more accurately, something like, "Girls! Girls. Meifleurpatti-I mean Puck-PUCK. Listen up. Mei! Fleur, I'm talking - thanks Fleur - Puck. (Ryeland, stop the baby.) PUCK. Mei, Fleur, Puck - PUCK, eyes on me - thanks, Ryeland - PUCK. EYES," which condensed in parent-speak to a single roar of "Girls!"

When he had them more or less listening, he remembered to set his voice to the more singsong cadence one used for children, instead off the deeper version of his natural voice that he used for shouting at the top of his abilities at tall people; making the choice to be patient and gentle, or at least pretend to be someone who was; and in this manner he said reasonably, "Now, your dad's been away for a very long time and missed you all very much. What do you say? What do you say when your dad comes home?"

Six children stared at him blankly, and the baby toppled gently into the bucket. He fished it out, stuck it sideways under his arm, allowed the snake to escape in the confusion, acknowledged someone's grievously injured finger, stopped Fleur from pinching, took out his pocket handkerchief and wiped Puck's nose in essentially one continuous motion.

To be completely fair, now that he'd let go of the initial anger, he could see that the kids had absolutely no idea what he'd wanted of them. Kids had practically no social instincts at the best of times. Chilchuck coming home was remarkable, sure, but beyond their influence; how were they supposed to react? What do you say to a comet? What do you say to a hailstorm? What do you say when daddy comes home?

He repeated the question, as the children had universally drawn blanks and devolved into staring vacantly.

"Good morning, Daddy!" A child chirped helpfully, setting off the rest in an automatic drone of "good morning, Daddy," in the strangely universal dreary tone of all children saying that.

"So close, Fernwise! Is it morning? What else do we think?"

Bee, fighting for order among the kit-daemons, was simultaneously washing Fleurtom's daemon, Pantoufle's, face; receiving a long rambling report of a grievance from three incoherent witnesses; and minding the baby's chick-daemon; up to her ears in parenting. She said, around a mouthful of Pan, "Speed it up, boss, you're losing them."

"Where are your spots, Daddy?" Pan asked him. He was in the form of a young ferret and scrabbled against his mother's grip on his scruff.

"My what?"

"Your freckles," Bee said grimly, and seeing he'd been temporarily disarmed - and being a valiant beast in her way - charged in to her human's defense, "Is that nice, Pan? We don't want to make people feel bad about their looks, do we?"

"Yes we do," said Fleur.

"Fleur! We've just - we haven't seen much of the sun, that's all," said Bee, taking charge, the best and most loyal soul a man could have. "They'll come back, and they're not spots."

"Mei has spots."

"Freckles."

"Grimbob has spots."

"Yes, and you shouldn't notice," Bee said. "Think of Grimbob's feelings."

"I do, I think he feels spotty."

"I'm thirsty," Puck said flatly.

"Stick to the point, kids," Chilchuck said, recovering from the fact that his usual face was apparently indistinguishable to children from Grimbob's, who had been taking puberty hard. This was surprisingly difficult to do.

Ryeland, a mildly bright spark who was older than the Chils girls, connected two dots and suddenly roared "WELCOME HOME DADDY," so six children all repeated that automatically, and Fleur added sunnily, "I missed you Daddy!"

And just as a very small piece of Chilchuck's heart was finally allowed to melt, she added, equally sunnily, "Mei didn't."

"I did a little," Meijack said vaguely.

"That's great kids, well done, we got there in the end," Chilchuck said. "Remember it for next time, okay? It makes Daddy feel better about his stupid life. Now, next time, let's remember that it's traditional to do a hug."

He realised his mistake instantly, as six children and their daemons all bore him - and the baby he'd forgotten he was holding - to the ground.

___________

[shegetsburned]

WRETCHED AND FILTHY, RIGHT? w. crocodile ⋆.˚ ᡴꪫ

── content. “sir crocodile relationship hcs nobody asked for, because i can and he’s legit my man.”

sfw

barely available during the day for you, but makes up for it when he’s actually with you. it’s long cuddly naps under the covers or fancy dates that await you whenever he does have the time.

you will never ever ever need anything. money? he’s got you covered. clothes? no, your wardrobe is getting bigger and bigger by the week. freedom? girl you can do anything you want and he’ll have everything taken care of.

allows you to sit on his lap while he’s working.

would support the shit out of whatever you’re working towards. any goal or dream you have. also, he’ll probably crush anyone or anything that would stand in the way of that. competition? you don’t have any competition, you’re the best and they’re all terrified to work against you.

he might not be at home often but trust that you won’t ever have to feel alone. he’s got you a cute little pug who keeps you company and a giant aquarium with gorgeous species including one or two caimans.

passenger princess treatment all the way.

lets you wash his hair. he’ll never admit how good it feels when you scratch his scalp and brush his hair so tenderly, applying soft-smelling cream afterwards like you know how to. it became part of his routine when he pulled you into the bathroom whenever he needed his hair done and wouldn’t allow anyone else but you.

sprays some of your perfume on his wrist before a long day at work so he can have some part of you on him at all times.

nsfw

fingers you with his rings on. the cold metal makes you flinch and it almost pinches you, but the pleasure overcomes the pain when his slender finger goes in. the diameter of his rings adds up to his already huge finger and it feels heavenly.

undoes your bra with his hook. the threatening steel of it sends shivers down your spine when it brushes against your naked back, but it’s so fucking hot for no reason and he’s seen the way you clench your jaw to contain the pleasure which only turns him on more.

fucking loves when you’re riding him.

loves mean sex. when he’s pressing his weight against your back so you take him all in and your curses are muffled by the pillow. he’s holding you down with his hand around your throat and just as you’re about to have a life-changing orgasm he pulls out, his tip teasing your entrance with no intention of going back in. your whines bring an dirty smile to his face.

constantly leaves marks. you’ve got biting marks, small scratches he’s done with his hook and red marks on your ass from his tight grip on your flesh.

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[unbearableblog]

My Christmas gift for you.

Messages (Carmen Berzatto x reader)

Summary Carmy’s actions towards the reader might eventually lead to consequences.

Word count ~2,8k

Warnings 18+, No use of Y/N (there is rarely a name but it’s just for aesthetics, you are welcome to insert your own name), action set in S2 so possible spoilers, cursing, angst, relationship problems, possible mentions of smut

A/N God this took a lot from me! Legit flew to Copenhagen haha. I am very grateful to each and every one of you who read, liked, commented or reposted and supported this! I would never think that this would happen. I hope you’re not going to crucify me over the plot. Thank you so much for waiting!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Chapter 1 (the one with departure, Denmark, and desserts)

Things were a little different at the Beef lately.

“Richie, shut the fuck up!”

“You first, child!”

Well, maybe not so different. But they certainly were different with you. Amongst the neverending screaming, cursing, and fighting, you somehow survived getting shot at, losing the power, dealing with the IRS, and everything else that constantly went wrong with this cursed place. The amount of experience you had in this short amount of time has topped anything you've done before. You couldn't catch your breath. But that's what you do for the ones you love, right?

It's been some time since you started helping Carmen with the Beef - serving the customers on a particularly busy day, calming down Carmen, sometimes giving Richie a pep talk when he needed to keep his shit together. But mostly you just chatted with Sydney and sat in the kitchen, doing your college assignments while watching Carmen work. You could never get tired of it - he looked so professional and smart. It was his element. Well, when everything was going well.

The entire time, you were there, talking to Carmen as he prepped for the day, giving him a smile and getting one back, just watching him go on about his day and move so swiftly like a well-oiled machine. Seeing him in an apron drove you wild. You'd have to stop yourself from going up to him and touching his god-given curls or rubbing his back through his white T-shirt (but more often you failed to do so). Most of the days you patiently waited to go home and show him everything that was on your mind all day.

One time he caught you staring, mind far away from the Beef. His voice brought you back.

“Are you thinking about my fingers again?” He said while putting his arms at his hips, almost offended.

You bit your lip and looked at him with a guilty smile.

His hand went up to brush through his curls.

“You’re not gonna get any work done if you keep thinking about that. And with the way you look at me, can say the same thing about myself.”

You whine and playfully pout, not wanting to keep studying.

“Come on, princess,” he comes closer to you and whispers in your ear so that his whole voice goes through your body and his lips brush your ear “And when we get home you can tell me all about it while you sit on my ‘pretty’ cock”

Sometimes he would explain what he was doing or why things weren't going the way they were supposed to, sometimes you would share something you found fascinating in your assignment. He would always listen, even if he didn't fully understand, but you knew he was trying to. It made you feel so special - you got the whole attention of this hot 3 Michelin star chef, covered in tattoos and buff, but he looked at you with such care and softness. His muscular arms touched and wrapped around you with strong tenderness and appreciation. Sometimes you saw the same attention to the details in the food he was making - he really cared.

Everything changed after the Beef closed down.

Carmen was a little taken aback when you told him you were going to Copenhagen with Marcus. You were at the restaurant, like any other day, figuring out a thousand things that were wrong before the opening, when you heard Denmark being mentioned amongst the guys.

“Someone's going to Denmark?” you asked, turning around on your chair.

“Marcus is,” Carmen brushed off, and continued having his conversation with him.

“Wait, to Copenhagen? Why?” you felt ignored.

“Uhh, to learn everything about desserts,” Marcus answered. Carmen didn't even look in your direction.

“When? Why didn't you tell me?” you sounded excited because you were, but your heart felt like it was placed into an iron cage. Carmen knew how much that city meant to you, and to not even mention that your friend was going there felt neglectful. But maybe you were overreacting - he was probably busy, he doesn't have to tell you everything, and it surely wasn't for long anyway.

Berzatto shrugged his shoulders. “Why? It's just for some time.”

“I was actually thinking about going there too. I haven't seen my sister in a while. Maybe we could fly together? I know everything there,” you were ready to help Marcus as a bonus. You really appreciated him as a friend, and returning the favor for all those delicious pastries he made at your request would be terrific. You could also use a fucking break from Chiberia.

“For real? That would be awesome!” Marcus exclaimed with his arms, his smile releasing your heart from its prison.

“Uhh… yeah-yeah, sure, I guess,” Carmen squinted his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I- uhhh, have to go out for a minute. Umm,” he swallowed “-meet that rep for me, yeah?”

An entire work shift of flying has gone by the time you started seeing the bronze-roofed houses sprinkled like decorations on a Red Velvet cake. You made Marcus promise you not to judge the country by its airport, as it usually was surprisingly dirty. Nevertheless, there were hints of what life there was like - a burst of energy, culture, and flavour. You walked what seemed like forever through the endless white halls with blue sections, wondering how many times Carmen had been here and whether you ever crossed paths. You kind of wished he was there. Your excitement rubbed off on your friend - Marcus was beaming with happiness, anticipating your time there. He knew it was going to be life-changing.

The moment you went outside felt like you could breathe again. The weight of The Beef, Carmen, stress, problems problems problems dropped off, was left behind, and never got on the plane. Your chest wasn't encircled by snakes that only pushed until you suffocated. Your mind was clear.

You helped Marcus settle in his awesome boat, and after reading the owner's note to "keep the water in Coco's bowl", searched for the cat for like 20 minutes. Unfortunately, your efforts were fruitless.

Marcus only let you go back alone because you assured him of your safety (you gave him a speech about how it wasn't like Chicago) and experience. Still, he made you text him when you got to your sister's. The two of you were always trying to make your relationship work, but the distance didn't make it easy. That did not mean that you were going to give up - you were used to making a lot of effort for the people you love. She was ecstatic and grateful to see her little sister. The rest of the evening was spent eating, sharing your lives, and talking about your mysterious boyfriend.

“I don’t know, he’s just so… distant. He always leaves somewhere, does god knows what when he knows we don’t have much time! Sometimes it feels like I care about the restaurant more than him. Which is so weird because he was so into it before! He planned the whole thing! And I am so fucking stressed from it all! I never even wanted to work in a restaurant but I was there for him!” you expressed your pain very loudly.

“Have you thought of… breaking up with him?”

You exhale and almost completely give up mentally.

“I don’t know… it feels like we don’t have much of a relationship at all anymore. We don’t go out, all the time is spent on the opening. I swear sometimes I’m there just for our friends and his sister, I can’t just leave them without help while he’s wandering somewhere”.

You couldn’t sleep because being in bed without Carmy by your side felt plain wrong. You were also jetlagged which meant that the peaceful world of Morpheus was avoiding you like a plague. The same thing happened to Marcus, so you both were just texting about what you were doing.

“idk, i gave up and went to get some tea” you typed, a warm mug in your hand as you cozied up on the couch with a blanket.

“yeah, same shit here. bout time to get ready anyway”

Your whole house was asleep, and probably would be so for a while. It was too dark to go out for your liking. Boredom kind of crept in.

“what is it exactly u're gonna do there?”

“uhhh i wish i knew. make some things from the pics i showed u i guess”

“can i watch?” Was it too much of a request? Who even knows if you'll be allowed there?

“yeah i think so. i'd love to not have to do this alone”

You smile, finish your tea, and get up to find some clothes.

You finally reached the place and were met by a tall man in an apron. He introduced himself as Luca, and you heard a very sultry voice softened by an accent. You wondered where he was from.

“I'm Chef Marcus. That's Liv. Is it cool if she just hangs around and watches me?”

“Hi,” you smile at him.

“Hello. You could also join in. What kind of a chef are you?”

“Oh I'm not, I'm -”

“Well, with the amount of time Liv spends in our kitchen listening to every word of the CDC, I'd say she might as well be a chef by now,” Marcus only half-jokes. You give him a look anyway.

Luca prepared everything and soon he and Marcus were working. You were sitting on the other side of the table, able to see everything. Only now you were starting to notice how strong he was, you have to be, you thought, if you stay on your feet all day. His arms were also covered in tattoos that didn't seem to make sense, like Carmy's.

“So who are you?” Luca's question doesn't sound rude, just curious.

“I'm his boss' girlfriend,” you nod as you speak.

“Wow,” he seems to be thinking something, but maybe it's just him being focused on putting the peanuts on dessert, “What are you doing here?”

“Uhh, visiting my sister? It was time and I thought Marcus here could use someone to show him around. As for here, I was really jetlagged and bored.”

Luca was amazing. The way he coached Marcus even when he made mistakes was consistently calm, stern, and leading. Not once did any of you feel berated or hear his voice go louder, all you knew was to just try again. His entire presence excreted stability and equilibrium.

After an extensive lesson, it was Marcus' turn to try. All of you leaned closer to the dessert in hopes of seeing more. You held your breath as you watched Marcus carefully place a tiny piece in the clockwise direction of the dessert when in the blurred background of your vision you felt something change. Instinctively, you looked up from the dish, and your eyes met the gaze of your friend's teacher. There he was, almost lying on the table, looking at you. As if he wasn't busy right now. As if the dessert didn't matter. Hypnotized. “Got it!” Marcus smiled and stood straight up. “Great job, chef,” Luca switched back to Marcus.

Suddenly a firework of spice embraced you in its scent, making your head go round from the all-encompassing desire to taste it.

“Oh my god, are those cinnamon buns?” you had to put your hands on the counter to keep yourself up. “Yeah,” Luca stood straight. “You like them?” “They smell amazing!” you could swear you saw a quick prideful smile brush Luca's lips.

“They are her favourite. And she's very specific about'em too,” Marcus threw you under the bus.

Luca seems interested. “In what way?”

“I'm not, okay? I just believe that cinnamon buns should have a lot of sugar and cinnamon, or else they're just buns. There was this place near the park, and the pastry they sold was like 90% dough. I didn't like that at all” you defend yourself, and Marcus scoffs, having heard you rant about it many times at The Beef.

“Abomination,” Luca shakes his head.

“Exactly! I love it when there is so much sugar that it's oozing out, that's how it'd supposed to be.”

Your lighthearted banter somehow led to Luca opening up and talking about his life and experience. He also shared a couple of stories about determination, his acceptance of not being the best, and some of his failures. Soon all of you were joking around and laughing at your pasts. You felt your heart warm up to him and thought that leaving the house was a good idea.

Marcus stepped outside to check on his mom. He called her sitter as often as he could, and every time you hoped that everything would be alright. Luca was silently doing his work, kneading some dough. It was a demanding process, but so meditative, and you couldn't help but float away watching his big hands grab and squeeze the smooth dough, throwing it back onto the table occasionally, his long fingers dug into it, leaving an impression. “So where is he now?” you ask. “Who?” “The chef who was better than you. Where is he now?” you wondered if Carmen knew him or told you about him. “Well, you tell me. Apparently, opening up a new restaurant,” the chef said, as he threw a careless nod in your direction. Huh? Your heart drops. What? You let out a nervous scoff. “You're saying it was… Carmen??” Your question was met with a simple nod as he kept working. “Carmen Berzatto, the chef that was better than you at everything?” you almost spell out. Luca just takes his eyes off the dough and watches your reaction. He is also confused. “God, he really is the best?” the question sounds more like an exhale. “People keep saying it, but I guess I didn't realize” you sit down, defeated, and stare off. Your mind keeps pacing - what happened to Carmen? How did he go from being the best to being a yelling mess of chaos? Why is someone who looked up to him so calm and collected but still successful? Why can't he be like that? “You sound surprised. What, he doesn't feel like it?” He asks while kneading the dough, this time slower and a little softer. You look at him, then shake your head away and look down. You want to tell him everything about the way Carmen treats you, and how different that is from what your beginning used to be, how he doesn't appreciate you even though you spent so much time in and on The Beef, and how unfair that is, and have his deep voice tell you the answer, but you can't. That would be weird. Luca notices your hesitation. “You know, when we worked together, he would often be… difficult,” there is a pause after he says it because he is reading your face, trying to understand if he's walking on thin ice. He isn't, so he continues. “Partly why I didn't become better than him was because he wouldn't let me.” “Yeah, he shared something like that.” His brows went a little higher, and his grip on the dough hardened and stayed there. “My point is, being with a person like that can't be easy. Man, we only worked together and I already wanted to smother him, can't imagine being in a bloody relationship,” his smile makes you laugh and for a second you forget every bad thing in the world.

Later that day you wanted to call Carmen. “Carm, you free?” You wished to tell him everything - how much you loved the city, how nice his friend was, the fun you were having, and how good this was for you. Kinda wanted to beat his ass for being so mean to Luca too. “not rn, Liv, busy”

Of course.

“Olivia! Come here!” your sister screamed to get your attention. You noticed she was standing at the door, talking to somebody, so you got up and approached her. “What's up?” you asked. She closed the door and turned to you, holding something in her hands. “It's a gift from your boyfriend,” she said in a teasing tone, and you could swear that the last time you saw her that giddy was in high school. “What? How do you know?” A drop of hope celebrated its birth in your chest. “The delivery guy said it's from a chef,” the last word she playfully stretched out, so it came out a little funny, like Tina says it. You couldn't believe it. There it was, a white box carefully tied with a red ribbon. Finally Carmen realised how distracted he was and decided to apologize. Obviously, you were gone, so he missed you. Your heart filled with warmth and you smiled to yourself - you knew things would get better. You take the hefty precious gift from your sister's hands, sit on the couch, and open it with anticipation. Inside, 9 breathtaking gourmet cinnamon rolls with caramelized sugar barely fitting, leaking out of the mouthwatering, well-kneaded dough. And a note.

"You deserve all the best in the world - Luca"

I hope you enjoyed it! Part 2 might come quicker if you comment how you liked it

Snippet from the next chapters

🏷️ Tagged everyone in the comments! If you want to be excluded, just let me know♥️ @carma-fanficaddict @eternallyvenus @sia2raw @helloheyhihowdyheya @soursopsista @m1dnightsnackz @custarrds

Dividers by @saradika

[cassolotl]

UK government planning to scrap a major disability benefit

I'm only just scraping by and the government are proposing to take away PIP (a disability benefit), which would be HALF of my income wiped out.

"Reforms to personal independence payments (PIP) could include stopping regular cash payments, and instead offering claimants one-off grants for things like home adaptations." -- "Disabled people face end to monthly benefits cash", BBC News, 29 April 2024

And:

"The plans, which will be consulted on over the coming months, also include proposals to “move away from a fixed cash benefit system”, meaning people with some conditions will no longer receive regular payments, but instead access to treatment if their condition does not involve extra costs." -- "People with depression or anxiety could lose sickness benefits, says UK minister", Guardian, 29 April 2024

That's what the NHS is supposed to be doing...

Genuinely absolutely terrifying.

Can anyone living in the UK join in with an (hopefully!) overwhelming cascade of unique emails to their MP opposing this? WriteToThem.com makes it very quick and easy.

They're proposing to replace it with one-off grants that the individual can apply for, which is absurd and horrifying, so feel free to point out how that won't work as well!

Here's what I'm writing, and do not just copy-paste my letter/email, because that makes it less legit. Do your own thing, even just one sentence telling your MP that you're opposed is enough if that's all you can manage. Whatever you want to say is what your MP needs to hear.

Dear [MP's name], Today I learned that the government plan to scrap PIP, and maybe replace it with something like a one-off grant application process, before the next election. ("Disabled people face end to monthly benefits cash", BBC News, 29 April 2024: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cn0ry09d50wo) PIP is about half of my income (about 44%). I don't spend it on occasional large purchases, I spend it on countless things that are more expensive for me than they are for other people. PIP is in place to acknowledge, as it says in the above article, that disabled people's lives are more expensive than non-disabled people's lives by hundreds of pounds per week. ("Previous research from Scope suggests households with at least one disabled adult or child face an estimated average extra cost of £975 a month to have the same standard of living as non-disabled households." That's £225 per week, and the maximum amount of PIP you can get is £184.) So firstly, it could be argued that PIP doesn't even cover the additional expenses of the average disabled household. And next, the cost of implementing an alternative system would be worse for disabled people, totally unsuited to its purpose, and more expensive to run. Worse for disabled people: Currently PIP acknowledges that being disabled takes a lot more work to maintain a comparable standard of living, and as it's an amount of work that the claimant cannot sustainably do, they are given money so that they can pay someone else to do it. These costs are distributed across all living expenses, in addition to occasional one-off purchases of e.g. mobility aids. Having to apply for one-off payments for expenses would be more work on top of that, so if the disabled person isn't able to do it (which is very likely) they will either have to work less in their day jobs in order to spend more time applying for one-off grants, or they will have to also apply for one-off payments to pay someone to apply for more one-off payments. This is self-evidently a waste of energy and time, and totally impractical, as well as being counter to the entire point of disability benefits. It would also be extremely undignified for the disabled people, and arguably against human rights (right to private life and dignity), to have to justify each purchase to the government. Totally unsuited to its purpose: One off-grants are not suited to ongoing higher expenses such as having to buy more prepared food (e.g. carrot batons are more expensive than raw carrots and go off much more quickly). Does this policy assume that disabled people's PIP is only for things like wheelchairs and walking sticks? More expensive to run: The system for PIP applications is already fairly backlogged, in that my last application took over 6 months to complete. I was awarded PIP for 10 years. If every application for a one-off grant had to be accompanied by an application of a similar scale that wouldn't be workable, so presumably an initial PIP application like the current system's would still be required to qualify for the system in the first place, and then following that, numerous smaller applications for money (e.g. for taxis, pre-chopped veg, painkillers, specialist clothing, etc.) would be carried out per person per month. The disability benefits system would have to be scaled up significantly, and it would be much more expensive. It is far cheaper to give people a set amount of money based on their needs; it's the same money that you would be giving them in grants anyway, but without having to process each purchase/one-off application. I implore you to oppose this proposal. It is blatantly unworkable to the level of absurdity, but more importantly it is inhumane. I look forward to your reply detailing your stance. Many thanks in advance. Yours sincerely, [My name]

But, again, if you can't manage anything long or complicated like that, your best is good enough. Even if they're not all perfectly written and detailed, we want to bowl them over with sheer quantity of emails.

[usedtobecooler]

follow me down | steve harrington x reader

a/n: one tiny conversation with @loveshotzz caused a fire to be lit under my ass yesterday, thus this debauchery was written. it's good to be out of the smut slump! 2.3k words.

tw: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MINORS DNI, gloryhole, dubcon, blowjobs, reader has a vagina, alcohol and drug mentions, anonymous sex acts, dirty talk, pet names, rough oral sex, masturbation, no protection.

Maybe this was a terrible, awful, bad idea, but as you sit on your knees in the darkened bathroom stall, you can't shake the nervous thrum of excitement vibrating through your entire body at what's about to take place.

This wasn't what you came out with your friend to do tonight — the plan was to go to this new kink bar on Main, party together and maybe take somebody home, if you were interested enough.

The drinks went down way too easily, the bass of the sensual music flowing through you both as you danced together, grinding up against one another without a care in the world. People were staring, of course they were, two hot women in latex in the middle of a sex club? It was inevitable.

Happening upon the secret bathroom was no mistake, your girlfriend pulling you in through the door and laughing in delight as she showed you, multiple private rooms behind blood red doors, slick grey door knockers adorned on them.

"It's all legit, I promise. No creeps, the guys on the door know better than to let them in here, especially Eddie, he would never," she'd assured, "let loose, babe. Put that talented mouth of yours to good use. I'll be in the next one over."

You eye up the stall, draped in red lighting, creating an aura. Taking in your surroundings for the next who-knew how long, with wide, curious eyes.

The hole in the wall itself was quite wide, clearly meant to be there as the plaster is perfectly cut in a circle, cute multicolored sparkles frame it alongside sharpied numbers and lewd messages.

There's a little box at your side, full of various single-use items you may need or want — disinfectant wipes, gum, breath spray, condoms, lube. You giggle, pleasantly shocked by the attention to detail that the club put into it all.

It's clear that this is what these stalls are meant for, to live out the deepest of fantasies in some sort of safety.

It's almost comforting, makes you want to go ahead with it even more, as you sit patiently waiting for somebody to enter the stall on the other side. Busying yourself with using a disinfectant wipe, cleaning any part of the stall that you think you'll come into contact with.

You're so preoccupied that you don't even notice somebody else has entered the room, until you hear the stall door next to your own click shut. Jeans so tight they almost look painted on ghost past the hole in the wall, nervous hands rubbing at the material.

"What the fuck is the etiquette in here?" The guy laughs, to himself mostly, no other greeting, and it's almost endearing. The nervous lilt in his voice obvious.

"I was expecting you to come in here and just shove your dick through the hole, to be fair," you giggle, picking up your drink and taking a sip, "nice of you to talk first, though. Hi, I guess?"

"Hi," he laughs back, breathlessly. You watch as he shuffles around on the other side, nothing more than a thigh and hand in your eyeline, the side of a zipper. Tighter fitting in that area than usual.

"So, do you wanna do this?" You ask, just for confirmation, veins thrumming with nerves and something akin to excitement, "I think I know the answer already, your jeans are, uh, very fucking tight."

"Shit, yeah. You— you're sure you're okay with this, right?" The man's voice is high pitched, whiny and a bit desperate, the clink of his belt against the stall wall enough to shock you, "I just— I don't do this, ever. But my friend he, he gave me these pills 'n I'm just so fucking horny, and you're, well. You're here and offering, God, I wanna."

You clench your thighs together, teetering between both knees as you get comfortable, "I'm okay with it, promise. I wanna, too." You confirm, voice lilted and dripping in desire, "Can you at least tell me your name, though? Wanna know who I'm moaning for."

"Oh, shit," he grunts, shuffling a little so you can see the tips of the auburn loafers he's wearing under the frame of the stall, "I'm Steve. Fuck, dunno if I should've used my real name but, who cares, right?"

Steve.

"Okay then, Steve," you gasp breathily, squeezing your thighs together once again, relishing in the relief it gives the dull ache on your clit, "wanna drop your pants and show me what you're working with?"

You sound far too confident, so confident that you shock yourself. Your hands shake, brain foggy still from one too many tequila shots and bubblegum flavored cocktails. But, Steve's right there and unzipping his pants in your eyeline, your bleary eyes zoning in on tan, slender fingers that you suddenly wish were inside of you.

"Can you— are you okay with me telling you what to do?" Steve asks cautiously, pulling open his jeans and getting ready to drop them. You bite at your glossy lip, the way the denim hangs almost frames the thick bulge in his tight black underwear. You store the picture in your memory for later.

"I like being told what to do," you admit, soft and sweet, "sometimes my brain gets all fuzzy when I'm into it, and I need to be reminded how to act, y'know?"

Steve lets out a strangled noise, a soft chuckle echoing in the room immediately after, "I'll remind you, honey. Don't worry your pretty little head about that."

Your confirmation, the air of arousal in the small space, suddenly has Steve flipping like a switch. You watch with wide eyes as he tugs down his offending clothing covering his thighs, pushing the layers down to his knees, out of his way. His cock springs out, weighed down by its own sheer size, thick and cut.

"Christ," you mutter, your mouth watering, and you desperately grab for the drink you carelessly abandoned at your side, swigging the last of it for a bit of courage. The burning of dark alcohol settling deep and warm in your gut.

You stare unashamedly as he grips the base of his dick, strong fingers wrapping around it, somehow looking dwarfed now. Your jaw already aches and he hasn't so much as pushed the tip past your lips.

"Open wide, honey," Steve's voice drips in sex as he coos his pet name for you, domineering and strong, a very different version of the man who came into the room just minutes earlier, though you can't say it's not a pleasant change.

Your mouth hangs open, tongue lolling out over your bottom lip, putting on a show for the man who can't even see you. You shuffle a little closer, going cross eyed as the wet tip of Steve's cock slides through the hole. You tentatively flick your tongue against the weeping slit, getting a taste of him in your mouth, before wrapping your lips around the head, gently suckling on the salty skin.

"Jesus-fucking-Christ," Steve groans, sighing blissfully as you start up a steady rhythm, allowing saliva to pool on your tongue and help glide your way along his thick shaft, jaw unhinging as if on autopilot for him. The clean, musky taste and scent of him driving you fucking insane, your hands coming up to touch the wall at either side of your head as you bury in further, choking yourself on him.

You know you're sickeningly wet for it, for Steve. Your core runs hot and aches as you lick and suck every inch of his cock you can get to, whining high in the back of your throat as his salty pre slides down your throat, coating your tastebuds in him. It's almost embarrassing how much you enjoy it, losing yourself in making him feel good.

"Y'r so good at this, baby. Fuck me," Steve's forehead thumps against the stall, jolting you slightly, has your rhythm faltering momentarily, teeth grazing ever so slightly down his shaft. He groans, loud and unashamed, punches his hips forwards until you're moaning around your mouthful, vibrations shocking the prettiest sounds from his lips.

"You're rough, huh? Hands on your knees, like a good girl," Steve grunts, rocking his hips into the stall and pushing deeper into your mouth until he's hitting your gag reflex — your throat tightens automatically at the intrusion and he moans, animalistic and needy.

Your hands move on instinct, coming to rest on your thighs, just below the hem of your dress. Your fuzzy head does the work for you, relaxing your jaw and throat for the impending assault. Your panties drip with arousal, eyes rolling into the back of your head, the idea of being used like this doing unspeakable things to your body.

Strong, tan hands wrap around the top of the stall, gold rings glinting in the low mood lighting in the room. You whine, loud and unabashed when you see them grip the plaster. Mind racing at the thought of those hands all over your body.

"Bet you look so fucking good with my cock down your throat," Steve groans, tiny little grunts escaping him as he punches his hips forward in sharp thrusts, "you feel so fucking good, holy shit. Good fucking girl, taking all of me like this."

You know you look obscene — saliva running down your chin, lips raw and puffy, eyeliner and mascara smeared down your cheeks from the tears that spring from your eyes. Your throat feels wrecked, stuffed full on Steve, and you finally show yourself mercy, hand running under your dress to run over the seam of your cunt.

The slick noises of fluid soaked skin crescendo in the room, filthy and disgusting in the most delicious way, erotic and adding to the senses that get you closer and closer to the edge. Your fingers slip deftly over your slick cunt, working at your clit until you're choking on a sob, body alight with how good you feel.

"You crying, baby?" Steve coos, rocking into your mouth again, tears pooling below your top lip, adding to the salty mixture in your mouth, "You're lucky the walls between us, if I saw you crying I'd only go rougher, I'd break you."

You wail, fingers slipping from your pussy as his words rattle in your ears. Your tongue flicks over every inch of him you can get between the harsh thrusts, swallowing him down and mapping out every bit.

"Can hear you fucking yourself in there," Steve comments, and you can't find it in you to even feel embarrassed, not when he's rammed so far down your throat that you're struggling to breathe and gagging, "so fucking hot, wanna watch. Wanna pull on your hair and fuck that tight little throat harder."

Your knees ache, your jaw feels like it's splitting, whole body alight with the pleasure-pain that courses through you. It's like nothing you've ever felt before.

Steve chuckles, an animalistic noise tearing from him when you suck a little harder, chasing his cock as he tries to pull out. Your core burns hotter with every passing swipe of your fingers on yourself, chasing your high so desperately that you can't find it in you to be mortified.

"You close, honey? You've gone a little stupid on my cock," he comments, tutting at you, "if this is how dumb you get on blowing me, I can't wait to see how dumb you get when I'm buried deep in your pussy."

You whimper, tears spilling down your cheeks as you shudder through your orgasm, your cries muffled with Steve's cock. Your fingers work on your clit until your hips shake, slick drips of your creamy release sliding down your inner thighs.

"Perfect little slut," Steve grunts, hips beginning to stutter in their rhythm, a constant stream of steady praises spewing from his lips, "can't believe you came sucking my cock, I'm a fucking stranger. I'm gonna cum, y'r making me cum, holy fuck."

One, two uneven thrusts later, and Steve's hips shove forward for a final time, cock kicking up on your tongue as he releases inside of your slackened mouth. Your brain and gag reflex barely cooperate, some of his load sputtering out from between your lips as you struggle to swallow it all.

Steve's loud when he comes, moaning so unashamedly that it echoes in the room, and you're so sure that your friend in the next one over will hear him, maybe even the one over from that, too. It's mortifying how attractive you find it.

There's an awkward silence once all is said and done, his spent cock slipping from your lips once you're sure he's finished. The sounds of heaving breaths and clothes shuffling are almost deafening in your ears, as you sober up from what could be considered a mind melting experience.

Steve zips his jeans up on the other side, awkwardly chuckling, "Uh, thank you for the best blowjob I've ever had in my entire life, stranger."

You bark out a hoarse laugh in return, shocked by the casualness of it, though it's so endearing — and inflating for the ego, "Thanks, Steve. It was a pleasure getting to suck your dick."

Steve laughs for real that time, breathless and almost incredulous, "I don't know if this is, uh, kink etiquette or whatever but, I'm in this ridiculous black satin shirt. Hairs high enough that you can see it through the crowd, or so my friend says. Come find me out there?"

You're shocked into silence for a moment, brain running on overdrive, trying to comprehend the invitation to actually go see him, after all of that. You feel ridiculous, how could you be prudish after sucking off a stranger?

"Or not?" Steve asks, with a deflated little huff.

"No!" You awkwardly shout, cringing internally, "Uh, I absolutely would love to, Steve. I'm in a black latex dress, I have a red pentagram necklace on, it's hard to miss."

"I'll see you out there then, honey."

[axeoverblade]

Ayo can I request a platonic 1610 miles x older fem reader. Like she acts like an older sister to him and she visits him in his dimension. Bonus if his parents love her.

Dynamic Duo

1610 Miles x Platonic fem! reader

Synopsis! Miles never really cared for having another sibling until he met you

MASTERLIST

Genre: fluff, just fluff.

Warnings: mentions of dead sibling, foul language

Word count: .7k

Authors comment: THIS WAS THE CUTEST THING EVER IM CRYING. Two posts about Miles in one cause why not? ENJOY <3

Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade

•when you first met Miles you two clicked immediately

•He reminded you of your late little brother

•even though it made you sad at first to be around Miles cause of the nostalgia of it, you grew extremely fond of him over time and vise versa

• Bad habit of calling him youngin and he gets SO PISSED

• “what’s good youngin” “I’m not even that young shut the hell up”

• would get in trouble often with Miguel because you two “weren’t using your watches properly”

•apparently traveling dimensions to have ice cream together was against the rules

•still did it anyway

• he tells his mom about his friend “who left town” who was like his big sister and indirectly how much he admired you

•he would never ever tell a soul he looked up to you even though it was very obvious

•like bro legit mimics half the things you do unconsciously

•You notice it but don’t say anything

• you are so unconsciously over protective

• like you sometimes forget he’s a spiderman too

• he does the most stupidest things to impress you like a younger sibling does

• “Hey y/n look!” *cue Miles hanging upside down from a bridge doing stupid dangerous poses* “Miles! Get the hell down before you kill yourself” “But ’s cool right?” “…that’s besides the point”

•INSIDE JOKES!!!!

•or just those understanding looks you two give each other when you both see something stupid

• randomly pop up in his dimension to surprise him

• you two swing around the city together for the fun of it

•He rants to you constantly about his home life, finally feels safe enough to speak about everything that’s going on and how he feels to someone

•calls you when he has anxiety attacks. even though he would never outright say he’s having them, you know

• call it big sister senses

• always change the subject to something you know calms him and suddenly he’s laughing telling you about something that happened a couple of days ago when he was on duty

•Makes you happy he has an outlet he feels safe talking to because you know he can't do that with anyone else.

•HE STEALS ALL YOUR THINGS

• “yah so then-is that my jacket?” “…noooo?” “Miles I swear I'll kill you that’s like the fifth one this month”

• Always wants to be around you

•like lil bro is always just around trying to hang out with you or go on your missions when he can cause he thinks it’s cool to see you in action

• he even copies your moves for when he fights villains

• You finally met his parents

• at first they were very skeptical of you but after seeing how you two interact they grow very fond of you

•asks you to visit more often and cook for you whenever you do come

•you three talk about Miles whenever you think he’s not listening (he is) and how proud you are

•both you and his parents get on his ass about random stupid things he does

•legit tag team him all the time and there’s nothing he can do

•you visit so much you have a little bag of things in his room for when you come over

• you have your own personal relationship with his parents. They see you as one of their own and you see them like a second pair of parents

• they have their own nickname for you

• you are so close they add you to the family gc

• you and Miles bicker all the time about the stupidest things

• “shut up that’s why I’m the favorite kid” “you’re not even their kid!” “Your just proving my point further”

•you act like a real siblings. Like you would give your kidney for him but if he asks to borrow your charger? Hell nah

• overall he genuinely loves you and really appreciates you and you can say for the same for him

•will always be there for each other just like real siblings because in a way, you two are and always will be

©axeoverblade

[copperbadge]

Hello, Mr. Badge, I seem to remember that you once posted about your processes and systems for staying organized in life with Excel spreadsheets etc. I’ve been struggling a lot with depression and executive dysfunction issues and don’t want it to impact my work.

Do you use the same processes at work? I get overwhelmed with the amount of documentation we have and the exceptions to the rules in our processes.

I'm so sorry you're struggling! It's really rough, and the more complicated the task feels, the more fraught it seems, the harder it is to even get a start. I feel that hard.

As for organizing work like my home life....well, it's sort of the same. I don't make a strong distinction between life and work simply because a lot of what needs organizing in my life IS my work, so it's tough to talk about them separately.

For example, I use Google Tasks to build a to-do list each day, but that to-do list starts with "stuff I'll do before work" then "shower" then all my work stuff, then "evening" and then all the stuff to do after work, ending with "7pm chores" (because I have a lot of stuff to do right around 7pm, which I need to post about elsewhere). Then the stuff I've pushed off to next day is below that, and that just bumps up the next morning. What's important isn't really how I keep the list, but that I keep it in a way that is constantly accessible, and I've trained myself to 1. put everything on it, even stuff like "grocery shop" and 2. check it whenever I feel lost. I don't find google calendars very helpful, however, so while work makes me use one for meetings, everything else goes on a calendar I made in Google Sheets that I'm just super used to by now.

It sounds like you're having a fairly specific issue, which may not even be related to your mental health (though assuredly the mental health issues aren't helping). If you have a lot of confusing documentation and exceptions in the stuff you do at work, that can be legit stressful even for someone who isn't dealing with other stuff, so I just want you to know that this may not only be a You Problem. My problem is usually the opposite, in that I'm often the first person doing something, or the only person who's done it in a while, so there's no documentation at all. But when I do have documentation I often will simply rewrite it.

After all, just because you have a handbook doesn't mean you have to use it. You can copy it over into another document and make yourself a step-by-step guide and/or a checklist. Like, I do our holiday cards every year, and my "HOLIDAY CARDS" document says "Here's the first thing you do, here's the second, do this before going past that, check this before asking for that". Literally at one point the document says "Stop. Before you go any further, do this step. Even if you don't understand why, do this step" because in the past I've disregarded that instruction ("Why on earth would I do it this way?") and lived to regret it.

Making the guide really, really sucks. Often it will take me four or five passes at a project before my guide is comprehensive (this is my fifth year doing the holiday card project and the document still has some steps missing at the end). But once you have it, it's invaluable, and often in the past I've found other people want my guides because they're fairly clear and precise about what needs doing when. For example, you might say, "Open the file and move column B to in front of column A. NOTE: THERE IS ONE EXCEPTION, THIS IS THE EXCEPTION." Or "Once you've saved the file, save a second copy to your backup folder so you can go back to it if you delete something you shouldn't. Stop and check: is this file from before or after October? If after, remember, you have to also rename it." If you find that there's a mistake you make frequently, figure out what would stop you from making it and add that in.

(We had a guy at work whose last name was VERY long and Italian, and so when I was working phones he got a special entry in the directory document I made -- the first line was all his directory info and the second line was just the phonetic pronunciation of his last name. He found out, which I had never intended him to do, and lost his shit laughing. "No wonder you're the only one who gets it right!")

So my recommendation to you is to create your own handbook, your own templates, and your own way of doing things and just slip that back into the system you have at work. Draw a diagram by hand if you need a flow chart. My approach to all my organizational issues has always been "What would make me do this correctly / prevent me from doing that thing wrong / remind me what to do / make it easier for me to start".

I think of this nowadays as the "Take the cupboard doors off" school of organizing, because to really make full use of my kitchen in a way that I liked, I had to take some of the cupboard doors off. It looks messier and kind of cheap, but it's actually a much more organized system now, and who's in my kitchen other than me?

[earlycuntsets]

gerard wrote the intro to this graphic novel in 2006. just got a paperback copy and wanted to share my scans!

transcription:

In 1998, I took a comedy writing class at SVA in New York City. It was my senior year as a cartooning major and I had started to tie up all the loose ends of what credits I needed. Thal year i tried everything from surrealist literature to acting, I even gol to play the devil for my final exam... a part that made me realize I loved performing but that I had a problem being serious. Any part that I excelled at was way over the top or insanc.. so I decided I was funny. I figured I would try my hand at comedy writing. I wasn't funny.

At least to everyone else in the class, save one person... That day the assignment was to take a classic work of literature and make a joke of it. I decided to take Mark Twain's "The Adventures Of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn" and write a short story exactly as Mark Twain would but add one single moment where Tom, while on a raft floating down the Mississippi River, describes the summer breeze getting him excited in a certain way. No one laughed at this... except a guy wearing an Avengers T-Shirt. Not the comic book Avengers, but the classic 60's spy show Avengers, something I took notice of that day. Over lunch break I leaned over and broke the ice with a particularly inappropriate subject to see if this guy was legit. He was.

This began a love affair between, in my opinion, the only two people in the class that were actually funny. The next few weeks saw us pushing the envelope of what would make each other laugh. There was nothing sacred, nothing we wouldn't try to tie a punch-line on. I had never laughed so hard in my life and we became fast friends, writing for an audience of one.

Jon and I have been friends now for 9 years. We have seen each other at various stages of our lives, through numerous relationships and turmoil, and have sat up until 6am talking about zombies and Asia Argento every single time I have come off the road. He is like a brother.

All of these stories are true, and all of them have happened to all of us ...Jon and Nick are just more honest about it. We have all fallen in love, we have all had people fall out of love with us, but the stories in Heartbreak paint these moments with such authenticity it makes you remember all of the glorious self-deprecation. The blood and guts and the long drive home alone... the years spent aimlessly searching for someone.

Heartbreak is a snapshot of those years. It isn't pretty and it isn't glamorous... but it will make you laugh- at these guys and at yourself. At the things we do to be loved, at the depths we will sink to get someone to say those three words back to us.

And that, my friends, is funny.

-Gerard Way

Seattle 2006

[miryum]

"The Red Arrow"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Mp/n: mispronounced name W/n: wrong name N/n: nickname

I combined two episodes- just a heads up

Y/n stood next to Cass behind the two-way glass, carefully watching a redhead sitting in the interrogation room. Jason stood silently in the corner. The redhead was a burly man, feet thrown up on the metal table, causally singing. “What’s going on?” Y/n scrunched her nose.

“Picked him up on more than a dozen counts of identity theft,” Cass said. “His name is Roy Harper. Ever seen him?”

“Nope. Although, I will admit, he’s one of the hotter perps. Definitely smash.” Jason grunted at Y/n’s words.

From inside the interrogation room, Roy sang, “Cassandra…. Cassandra…. Caaaassandraaaaaa…. oooooh yeah….” Y/n snickered and Jason couldn’t hold back a smirk.

Ignoring Roy, Cass said, “he said he wanted to talk to a Mp/n or W/n L/n. Whatever.”

“Why would he want me? And, should I change my name to W/n L/n? Cause it sounds super badass.”

“He said he has some info about someone with arrows?” Cass shrugged. 

“Arrows?” Y/n’s eyes widened. She muttered to herself, “he knows the Red Arrow.” She grabbed Cass by her shoulders and demanded, “listen to me. He specifically said he knows someone who uses arrows?”

“Yeah. I literally just said that.”

“Right, right, sorry.” A laugh bubbled out of Y/n. She practically ran into the interrogation room, Jason following on her heels. He wasn’t about to let her be alone with a criminal. Cass sighed and marched after them.

“So, I used to work in a pawn shop,” Roy explained after introductions. Y/n sat forward, hanging on to his every word. “Chill hours, absent boss, perfect place to snag jewels and stuff. Uh, not that I’ve ever done that,” he hurriedly added. Cass’ jaw twitched. “Anyway, this guy came in a lot, selling rubies.”

Y/n gasped. “Just like the Red Arrow!” she exclaimed. 

“I mean, we called him Miguel, but whatever.” Roy shrugged. 

“I’ve been chasing this guy for six years!” Y/n turned to look at Jason and Cass, explaining her passion for this random thief. “He always steals red rubies from high tech jewellery stores and spray paints a red arrow before he leaves, hence the name. He never left any evidence and he’s never been caught on camera. He’s a ghost!”

“Super ghost,” Roy whispered, eyes gleaming.

“Super ghost!” Y/n yelled out, agreeing. 

“Before anything else happens, we need to know this guy’s legit,” Jason said. “Describe him.”

“Uh…” Roy hummed. “Mexican dude, maybe 5’8”? He has this pointy little beard and always wears a purple tie.”

“So would you say he looks sort of like,” Y/n whipped up a drawing of the man Roy was describing. “This?”

Roy winked. “There‘s that sexy motherfucker, Miguel.”

“This is a composite sketch from ten interviews I've done,” Y/n said in awe. “A perfect match.”

Cass wasn’t satisfied. “So all you know is what a bunch of other idiots have said over the years. Big whoop. Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Roy sat back and his teeth flashed as he grinned. “I know how to get in touch with him.”

Y/n gasped and emphasised, “Roy Harper!” Jason clicked his tongue, unimpressed.

“Ah, Brown. Just the woman I was looking for.” Captain Wayne stopped by Stephanie’s desk, looking down at her. “Clark has accepted an offer to teach at the University of Florence for the next six months.”

“Oh, I love Italy,” Steph said, still unsure as to why her Captain was telling her this.

“Clark and I belong to the Park Slope Racquet Club, where we've established a squash doubles dynasty.” Bruce explained, “we've taken home the trophy two years in a row. Unfortunately, he’ll be flying to Florence this year during the tournament. I remember you told me you played in college…” he trailed off and glanced at Steph hopefully.

“Three-time intramural champion at Sarah Lawrence,” Steph said proudly. “Would have been four, but senior year I played Lord Farquaad in our school's production of ‘Shrek.’”

Wayne hummed, unsure of how to respond. “In any case, I would be honoured if you would take Clark’s place so that I could still compete.”

Stephanie blanched, yet offered a thumbs up. “Absolutely! I would love to do that!”

“Fantastic,” Wayne said.

“Yup! That is great. This is great.” She slowly stood and manoeuvred over to Dick’s desk before collapsing in a seat next to him. “This is terrible.”

“Why? You’ve always said you wanted more quality time with Wayne.” Dick set down his pen.

“No, not like this,” Steph shook her head. “Squash brings out my competitive side. Breaking racquets, cursing, excessive use of the bird.” Her eyes widened in fear. “One time, just to psych a guy out, I locked eyes with him and ate a squash ball.”

“That's not possible.”

"I can still feel it rolling around in me, Dick.”

“Look, the point is to have fun,” he tried to reassure her. “So just relax and have fun.”

“Right, right, right, yeah. I mean, it's just a game. It's fun. There's no need for Wayne to see me unleash the beast.” She laughed nervously. “Okay.”

“The burner phone that Roy uses to contact the Red Arrow is at his house.” Y/n pressed her hands together and pointed at Captain Wayne, a hopeful look plastered on her face. “He's agreed to help us catch the Arrow if…. We drop all charges against him,” she said quickly, almost as she hoped her superior didn’t hear her.

Captain Wayne sat behind his desk, analysing his detectives. “How many rubies would you say this Red Arrow has stolen?”

“Fifty-eight, that I know of.” Y/n said, “but the real number could be in the thousands!”

Wayne squinted at Y/n. “You’re not very good at maths,” he stated. Turning to Cass, he asked, “what are the charges against Harper?”

“Thirteen counts of identity theft, but I’ve been chasing him for more than a month.”

“A month?” Y/n scoffed. “I’ve been chasing the Red Arrow for more than six years. Do you know how many months that is?” 

“Seventy-two,” Wayne answered instantly. 

Y/n pursed her lips and murmured, “Ten…? Five and seven… and four years… wait, months?”

“Do you need a maths tutor?” Captain Wayne asked. “Because the department will provide one.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Y/n muttered.

“I’m on the fence,” Wayne admitted, returning to the matter at hand. “Cain, you caught him. It’s your call.”

“Cass,” Y/n turned to her friend, practically begging. “This guy is for real. One thousand pushups.”

Cass’ eyebrows shot up. “One thousand pushups? Alright. I’m in.” She shrugged. 

“What’s one thousand pushups?” Bruce asked.

Y/n explained, “we were in the academy together and hated the drills. So now, when we're on a case, if one of us says one thousand pushups, it means ‘I'm so sure I'm right that if I'm wrong, I'll do one thousand pushups.’”

“It’s a pact we made,” Cass added. “It means ‘trust me.’ And I do,” she added with a smile. 

Wayne nodded. “Make the deal.”

Y/n cheered, “yes! I’ve got you now, Red Arrow! Wow! It feels good to say that in front of actual people instead of the mirror. Okay! Let’s grab the burner, contact and catch the Arrow, and become police legends.”

Later, Roy stood in front of his house, flanked by Y/n and Cass, the latter in her signature leather jacket. “Babysitter’s car is here,” he said. “They’re home.”

“Babysitter?” Y/n scrunched her nose. “You have a kid?”

“Yeah,” Roy beamed. “Little girl called Lian. Can I take my cuffs off?”

“No,” Cass deadpanned.

“Lian doesn’t know I’m a criminal!” Roy protested. “She thinks I own a construction company.”

“Why stop there?” Y/n shrugged. “Tell her you’re an astronaut.”

“Nah, man,” Roy shook his head. “Space is scary. You saw what it did to Matt Damon. I don’t wanna staple my skin together.”

“You got a point.” Y/n shot Cass a look. “Come on, Cain.”

Cass huffed and rolled her eyes. “You can play-act with your daughter for three minutes until we get the burner. One false move and I tase you in front of your daughter,” she threatened.

“Geez, dude. Harsh,” Y/n sucked in a breath. She mouthed towards Roy, “Don’t worry, she loves me too much to do that.” Roy nodded back dramatically. 

He unlocked the door and a small voice shouted out, “Daddy!” A tumbling mess of toddler came barreling down the hall and into Roy’s arms. Y/n cooed, heart melting. Roy grunted, picking Lian up and spinning her around. 

“Hey, baby! How you doing?”

“Good! Lois and I were playing Veterinarian.”

“Ooh! Sounds fun. Where is Lois?” Roy looked around.

“Cleaning up!” A voice shouted from down the hall. 

“Why aren’t you at work?” Lian asked. “And who are they?” She pointed at Y/n and Cass and Roy gently reminded her it’s rude to point. 

“They’re my coworkers!” Roy snickered, “Cass is a director on my board of directors and Y/n is my financial planner.”

Y/n winced and hummed, “yes. Stocks and numbers. Money. Very important. Did you know that four twenty-five dollar bills equal a hundred dollar bill?” Cass simply sighed and rubbed her temples. “Speaking of which,” Y/n said, noting her friend’s expression, “we should find that phone. So we can get back to building… buildings.”

“Right, right.” Roy let Lian down and said, “it’s in the spare bedroom.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Y/n volunteered. “Cass can stay here with Lian and Lois.” Cass glared at her, but agreed. 

Roy led Y/n through the house, waving to Lois and asking about Lian’s day. The spare bedroom was filled to the brim with toys and stuffed animals from Lian and memorabilia from Roy’s younger days. Roy dug the out burner phone and presented it to Y/n who quickly typed out a message. “Back in the game,” she narrated. “When can we meet up?”

“Ooh, you’re good at this criminal thing,” Roy commented. “If you ever wanna quit your cop thing, I could use your intelligence.”

“Aw, thanks man. How long until he usually responds?”

“Like, ten minutes?” Roy shot her a look. “Chill, dude.”

“I can’t chill!” Y/n bounced up and down. “I've never been this close before.”

“I gotta admit, your enthusiasm makes me want you to catch him.”

Y/n placed a sincere hand to her heart. “Thank you.” She noticed a pile of DVDs in the corner. “You still have those?”

“Yeah. I robbed a store a couple years back and kept my favourites.”

Y/n crouched down and scanned the titles. “Goonies, Princess Bride… The Sandlot! Dude! You have the best taste in movies!”

“Gotta have the classics,” Roy said. “Yes, ma’am, the American stories of promise and inspiration.”

“Inconceivable,” Y/n muttered, grinning.

“I’m not sure that word means what you think it means,” Roy said in a stilted accent. 

“Hey, you guuuuys!” They crowed together.

“Hurry up, Benny! My clothes are going outta style!” Roy quoted. 

“They already are!” Y/n cried back, both giggling. 

“Hey,” Cass stepped into the room. “You guys having fun?” Lian gripped onto the detective’s hand, smiling brightly. Cass’s eyes screamed, 'Cause I’m not. Her hair was decorated in braids and she looked as if she wanted to rip them out. 

The phone suddenly chimed and Y/n practically dropped it trying to see the Red Arrow’s response. “Parking lot on Flatbush and Vanderbilt in 15 minutes. Let's go.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Roy held up his hands. “Cain looks like a dirty criminal. But you,” he pointed accusingly at Y/n who still wore her GCPD jacket, “look like a cop, man. You can't go over there like that.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “...What'd you have in mind?”

A couple minutes later, Y/n stepped out of Roy’s house wearing a striped shirt and jeans with a white suit buttoned in the middle, sleeves rolled up. Y/n giggled, a moment away from breaking out into laughter. “I don't look like a cop now.”

“No, you look like Backstreet Boys meets Jonas Brothers,” Cass said.

Roy laughed, “Burn!”

Y/n shook her head, “Nah, that's not a burn, that's cool.” As they walked to the parking lot, she commented, “Not gonna lie, the suit is kinda growing on me.”

Cass grunted, glaring out the parking lot. “There’s no one here. L/n…” 

“A thousand pushups,” Y/n said softly. Cass took a slow, deep breath and nodded once. 

“Incoming,” Roy hissed, eyebrows up and hands in pockets. “Who the hell are you?” he cried to the man walking towards them, very clearly not Miguel. “Where's Miguel?” Y/n frowned and eyed Cass. 

“He hadn't heard from you in a while, so he sent me to make sure everything was cool,” the man said, shrugging.

“Apparently it's not,” Y/n muttered, kicking the pebbles at her feet. She had been so close. 

“Who are they?” The man nodded to Y/n and Cass, glaring.

“They're with me,” Roy said. “This is the buyer. Rosa Santiago.” He gestured towards Y/n.

The man shook his head. “I don't know ‘em, I don't trust ‘em.” He stated his terms, “He meets with you alone or it's off. I'll text the address.” 

The man walked away, not giving them another option. Once he was out of earshot, Y/n groaned, “Come on! I promise you this: they have not heard the last of Rosa Santiago!” She shook her fist at the back of the retreating man. She pivoted to face Roy and Cass and announced, “Okay, it's worth the risk. We send him in alone.”

Cass argued, “no, we don’t! Something doesn't smell right to me.”

Roy shrugged. “Could be my dad's suit. He died in it.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “He died in it?! Wait… this is a man’s suit? Why does it fit me so well…?”

Roy’s burner phone pinged and he said, “they just sent the location.” He studied his phone and exhaled loudly. “Man, this dude is cautious. If I show up one minute late or I'm not alone, he is done with me.” He pursed his lips and said to Y/n, “this is your last shot.”

Y/n shook her head and picked at her skin. “I can't let the Red Arrow get away.” After a moment of contemplating, she decided, “put a wire on him, get a tactical team in as backup.” She begged Cass, “please, it's the only way.” When the older detective didn’t look impressed, Y/n tried to convince her. “Harper and I know this guy. You have to trust us.”

Cain scoffed. “Do I? One of you is a criminal, and the other one is dressed like a knockoff of fucking Steve Harvey.” She poked her tongue in her cheek and decreed, “it's over. I'm ending this now.” She sighed. “Sorry, Y/n. Truly, I am.”

Y/n stared at her and couldn’t help but cross her arms. ”Seriously, Cain?”

“Yeah.” She repeated the words Y/n had promised earlier, “one thousand pushups.”

Y/n’s chin jutted up. “Well, I raise you. Two thousand pushups.”

“What?” Cass frowned. “That's not how this works. I said "one thousand pushups.” You have to back me up, L/n. That's the pact; end of story.”

“Well, I break the pact,” Y/n said abruptly. “Cass, I hope you understand how serious this is to me.” She whined in a deep voice, “Can't you read between the lines, man?”

“Don't quote Die Hard.”

“Sorry. But we're still sending him in alone.”

Captain Wayne wore shorts and a t-shirt, something Steph was still getting used to seeing. She, however, was on the sidelines, fiddling with her racquet. “You ready, Brown? Psyched up?”

“No, why?” she asked. “Do I seem psyched? 'Cause I'm definitely not. I- I just want to have fun!” She ran a hand through her hair.

“And to win,” Wayne reminded her slowly. 

“Hey hey hey!” Steph shrugged dramatically, pulling at her shirt. “If we all have fun and don't throw any racquets and don't eat squash balls, then we're all winners.”

“What?!”

“Nothing. I'll serve.” 

The game started with Stephanie serving and after a couple hits, their opponent called, “out.”

“What?” Steph shouted. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Then, as if a switch flipped in her head, she gave a high-pitched chuckle and gritted her teeth. “That was... fun. That was a fun call. You're a real��fun guy, fun guy. This is fun! This is fun! Right?” Her knuckles turned white on her racquet.

Y/n prepped Roy Harper in the back of a police van. “We need evidence, so get him talking,” she encouraged him. “Ask questions about money, jewels, specifics.”

Roy clenched his jaw and shook his head. “I'm getting kind of nervous, man. This dude is for real. You sure you have everything covered?”

“Yeah. There's a guy on the back door, eyes on the side door, and two dudes on the corner. You'll be fine.”

“What about choppers?” Roy asked. “Do you have access to choppers? With snipers and rockets and shit?”

“No one has rocket choppers,” Cain deadpanned.

“Although that does sound amazing,” Y/n added, eyes lighting up with the possibilities.

“We got eyes on the Arrow.” A voice announced through a walkie talkie. “He's a block and a half away.”

“You ready?” Y/n asked Roy.

Roy nodded. “You and me, N/n. We were born ready.”

“Yeah! Go, Roy, go! You got this! Show me your game face! Whoo!” Y/n hyped him up as he exited the van, clapping him on the shoulders. Once the doors had closed behind Roy, she turned to Cass and stage-whispered, “his game face makes him look constipated.” 

Y/n leaned over the audio transmitter and muttered, “we meet at last, Red Arrow. For six years I've tracked you. And today I'm taking you down.” She said into the microphone, “Roy Harper, can you hear me? Say something to test the wire.”

“Hey, Cain, after we put the cuffs on this guy,” Roy waggled his eyebrows. “I'll be free for dinner. And I’m sure Lian would love another playmate. What do you say?”

“The mic works,” is all Cass said. 

“Miguel! What's up?” 

Roy called out and another voice filtered through. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Roy rambled, “let's talk about jewels. I’m working at the shop again. I can deal with anything you want. Red jewels, blue jewels, one jewel, two jewels. Jewels are really great, aren't they? Real pretty.”

“What is he doing?” Cain asked in disbelief.

“Talking about jewels,” Y/n said as if it was obvious.

“You know what else is great about jewels?” Roy continued, “The way they look. They’re just so pretty.”

Cass shook her head. “That's it. I'm calling it.”

“No!” Y/n shrieked.

“Move, people, we're going in now.” She banged open the door and the other officers ran onto the scene. “On your knees! Hands on your head!” In the basement where the deal was going down, they surrounded a man who was Mexican, maybe 5’8”, had a pointy little beard, and wore a purple tie. He was clutching a thick briefcase and nervously complied with their demands, dropping the briefcase.

“Gotcha, Red Arrow,” Y/n’s chest bloomed with excitement and pride, having finally caught her prize. “Wait, where's Roy Harper?”

“Uh, he went to the bathroom.” The man stammered, unsure if this was all a trick. “I- I'm just here to cut his hair. I don't know what's going on.”

Y/n hummed, “A likely story, Red Arrow…” She bent down and opened the briefcase, revealing scissors, razors, and other supplies. “But you actually do have a lot of hair products.”

“He's gone. He ran,” Cass confirmed.

“Why would he do that?” Y/n exclaimed. “He helped us catch the Red Arrow. That was the deal. This doesn't make any sense unless…” Her mouth fell open and she realised, “Roy Harper is the Red Arrow.” 

As Y/n stood there, shocked, Cass immediately jumped into action. “Put out an APB. Seal off everything for a 20-block radius.”

The audio transmitter beeped and Roy’s voice said, “Yeah, don't bother looking for me. I'm in the wind.” He made a ‘whoosing’ noise into the microphone.

“If you're close enough for me to hear you, you're close enough for me to catch you!” Y/n called back.

“Nah, I got a relay set up, sister.”

“So if you're the Red Arrow, who's this dude?” Y/n asked.

“Well, a couple of years ago you were getting really close, so I started telling all my peeps that if they ever get caught, they should say I’m Mexican, 5’8”, have a pointy beard and always wears a purple tie.”

Y/n nodded stoically. “So then you hired a guy who matched that exact description….”

Roy laughed. “No, no, no, no, no, no. That's my barber, Miguel Barragan. He gave me the idea.”

Miguel was cutting Roy’s hair and commented, “you know, if you can't come in, I do house calls. You just text me a location and I could be there in half an hour.”

Roy beamed. “Good to know.”

“You know, you should actually use him while he's there. He'll give you a crazy good fade. Lian says he… layers her hair? I don’t know.”

“I get crazy good layers from my current barber, thank you very much.” Y/n deduced, “So you dragged us over here, went in there, pretended to talk, and then snuck out the basement. Am I right?”

Roy squealed. “The basement connected to another basement! Which connected to a garage, which is where my boy picked me up with Lian.” 

“Your boy? Oh, that guy from the meet-up. He works for you.” Y/n rolled her sleeves up and tugged at a strand of her hair. “He pretended to be spooked by me and Cain in the parking lot to make sure we let you go to the next meeting by yourself.”

“Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding! You win a prize!”

“You lied to me, Roy Harper,” Y/n whispered dramatically, somewhat hurt and somewhat impressed.

“You brought your daughter along?” Cass mumbled. 

“Gotta be honest, I'm pretty disappointed right now,” Y/n shook her head.

“Sorry it had to go down this way, L/n.” To his credit, Roy sounded a little sad. “Maybe we could've been friends in another world.” He paused then cackled. “If I hadn't just fooled you like a little- Lian, cover your ears- bitch!” An engine revved in the background. “Bitch!”

Y/n shouted back before the line when dead, “You use that mouth to kiss your daughter, Harper?!”

“Brown.” Captain Wayne approached his teammate after a particular gruelling and unfortunate match. “Is everything okay, uh, with your brain?”

“Yeah yeah. I'm great,” Steph said. “I am having… a lot of fun.”

“Yes, I’m sure, given as you’ve said that one hundred and forty three times today.” Wayne pulled her aside and reminded her, “you do realise that if we lose this next match, we're out of the tournament?”

“Yes, but the important thing is we had a good time.”

“No!” Wayne yelled. ”The important thing is that we win the trophy! I promised Clark before he left for Italy that we would do that.” He sighed before admitting, “do you know why I chose you as my partner?”

“Because I'm the most athletic person you know?” Steph’s voice ended in a high pitched question. 

“No, otherwise I would chose Todd. I chose you because of an article I read in the "Sarah Lawrence Phoenix" about a young woman they called ‘squash's unhinged lunatic.’” He pokes her in the chest for extra measure.

Stephanie swallowed harshly. “I- I haven't a clue what you're talking about, Captain.”

“According to that article,” Wayne said, ”that lunatic was 27-0. I need her on my team. I need you… to unleash the beast.”

Steph’s eyes grew wide and she inhaled sharply. Captain Wayne’s smile was just as sharp.

“Whoo!” Steph paraded into the court. “You butternuts ready to get squashed?” Their opponents stared at her and she mocked them. "’Huh? What? Duh?’ That's gonna be you guys while I smoke your butts, because Brucie and the Beast don't even give a what.” She sang the last word and waved her arms dramatically.

Bruce repeated stoically, ”we don't give a what.”

“Unh-uh. Whoo! Let's do this.”

The matches went on, and with the Beast unleashed, Stephanie and Bruce won every single one- not without earning a reputation.

“Boo-ya-kah, suckers!” 

Whenever someone called her shot out, Steph had a few choice words. “You kidding me? Are you kidding me?”

But when they won a point, she was enthusiastically crazed, even to the point where she slapped Captain Wayne on the butt. “Way to go! That's it, baby!”

Y/n approached Cass’s desk. “Hey,” she mumbled. “So… I went back to his house. Unsurprisingly a dead end.”

“I have a lot of work to do, L/n,” Cass said firmly, standing up to leave.

“Wait. I want to say something.” Y/n sighed and began, “we've worked together long enough to know that you hate apologies. So, I just wanted to ask you to join the Roy Harper case. Officially, as partners. I wanna catch this guy and I can't do it without you.”

“No, you can't,” Cass agreed.

“Now I believe I owe you one thousand pushups.” Y/n grimaced.

Cass gave her friend a small smile. “I don't care about the pushups, Y/n. I care that you didn't honour our pact. I've always trusted you, and when you went against me, it made me feel like you don't trust me.”

“I know and I'm sorry. It won't happen again,” Y/n promised.

“No, it won't. Now get down on the floor.”

What?” Y/n yelped. “You just said you didn't care about the pushups!”

“I changed my mind.”

Taking a long breath, the detective said, “Fair enough. A pact's a pact.” She nodded at Cass, knowing she couldn’t back down. Y/n shed her jacket, stared Cass in the eye, and stooped to the ground, beginning to honour her deal. “One, two, three…”

“Two hundred and sixty nine…”

“Heh. Sixty-nine.” Damian chuckled as he sauntered by, snapping a picture of his best friend. “I’m using this for blackmail,” he shouted back at her.

“Okay!” Y/n gave him a weak thumbs up before going back to her pushups.

“Five hundred and thirteen…”

Jason walked past her, calling out, “Night, L/n.”

“Night. Five hundred and fourteen…” she panted.

“Hey, Derek,” Y/n greeted the night janitor. Derek waved back. “One thousand…” she did one more pushup before whining the rest of her sentence. “Is so many pushups! I'm never gonna make it.” She shouted out, “What am I at?”

Captain Wayne marched by. “Nine hundred and one.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“You said two thousand, remember?”

“Argh! I should've trusted you, Ca-a-a-in!” she sobbed loudly, a stripe of sweat staining the back of her shirt. 

“Clark, there's something we'd like to show you.” Stephanie and Captain Wayne day in front of his computer, face-timing with Bruce’s husband, Clark.

“Ta-da!” Steph held up the trophy proudly.

“Ah, magnificent.” Clark said from Italy. “The trophy is ours! I look forward to getting number four next year.”

“Actually, we've been banned for life from all future tournaments.” Wayne sucked air in through his teeth, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, geez. What happened?”

Stephanie popped back into screen. “My fault, Clark.” The bruises on her arms and legs confirmed her words. “I snapped the second-place trophy over my knee and threw it in a toilet.”

“...Oh, my.”

“Yeah.”

“But the important thing is, we had fun,” Bruce smiled softly.

“Yeah,” Stephanie agreed.

“I don’t want to do it,” Dick said. “She’s not my problem.” 

“She’s literally your problem,” Steph rolled her eyes. “You’re her sergeant.”

“And as your sergeant,” Dick said. “I command you to take care of L/n.” 

Stephanie glared at him. “You’re abusing your powers, Grayson,” she whispered ominously. “Get Todd to do it!” 

“Todd’s already taken care of her,” Dick nodded to Jason who had placed a doughnut and a cup of coffee on Y/n’s desk and a blanket over Y/n’s sleeping form. He had attempted to place a pillow under her head, but when he tried, Y/n had grumbled and whined. Jason didn’t want to disturb her, so he just left her on the floor. Every moment or so, Jason would glance down at Y/n to make sure she was still sleeping peacefully and a loud noise hadn’t roused her. 

“They really are idiots,” Steph muttered. 

“Yeah,” Dick sighed. “They are.”

[sorrowsofsilence]

Deeper • Ruffilo

Pairing: Nicholas Ruffilo x FemReader

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut (18+, unprotected PnV pls wrap it before u tap it, slight breeding, inside orgasm), alcohol, swearing, jealousy, teasing. Legit just smut but with some plot lol

Prompt: you know what they say, bassist string it deeper.

Authors note: I’m so fucking tired but I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I am a literal puddle. Also this ended up being way longer than intended, oops :3

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @th4t-em0-k1d @lans-angels @dsireland86

Well, you know what they say, bassists do it deeper.

Ruffilo was never a fan of social situations, or people he didn’t know. If he could stay at home and away from the public’s eye, he would. He’d be happy just living with his best friends and some cats, as he was extremely shy; but he was also very needy.

Nick was always fighting for your attention; especially when you laughed a little too hard at one of Folio’s jokes, or a sarcastic comment of Jolly’s. He’d wrap your fingers through his, pulling at your arm so you would sit next to him, tugging you gently away from whoever else you were talking to. Sometimes he got jealous of all the attention you’d receive, especially when out in public; but if anything he despised when you talked to Noah. You were definitely waaay too flirty with him- in Nick’s opinion- but he’d never tell you he thought this because you and him were just friends. Noah played into the teasing you gave him; even though he knew Nick had a thing for you.

It was Halloween, Noah’s birthday; all the boys plus a bunch of friends were celebrating in their Los Angeles home. Nick’s leg bounced anxiously as he sat at the kitchen table with a drink in hand, waiting for you to show up. He exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes staying fixed on the front door as he took a sip, nearly spitting out the vile red mixture. Vodka cran my ass tastes more like some sort of disgusting pink Whitney mix. He thought.

Nick’s mind began to race, thinking about you. You were an hour late, something that rarely occurred because you were always extremely punctual. He wondered where you were; his comfort person. His anxiety was rampant at the amount of people in their house. All he wanted was to see you, so you could tell him everything would be okay; but also because he was head over heels in fucking love with you.

Folio and Jolly were off playing a game of definitely rigged cup-pong, while Noah jumped through various conversations with each guest, thanking everyone for showing up to celebrate his birthday.

Nick took another sip, hand shaking in anticipation as he watched various couples dance through the kitchen, the music loud, echoing through the walls. He readjusted his Jedi- robes multiple times, tugging on the fabric nervously.

Finally, the front door opened, and Nick had to stop himself from standing up immediately at the sight of you, ready for you to hold him in your arms. You waltzed into the house, the thick-heeled boots you wore thumping against the ground, following the beat of his heart.

You smiled when your eyes met his, your dark burgundy lipstick parting, radiating against your skin; his heart pounded heavily. His eyes fought the urge to skim across your body, particularly across your exposed thighs, as the short black skirt you wore rode up dangerously high. He was practically melting in his chair, pants beginning to tighten at the thought of bending you over the counter, taking you from behind.

“What’s up Anakin,” you said, your own eyes glancing across his robes, grinning at his nerdy costume. Nick was always such a dork for Star Wars, but he was your dork.

Nick smiled, relief evident on his face that you were here; but the lingering lust he felt towards you crawled through his skin. His throat began to tighten, and words fumbled. He grabbed his cup, swallowing the remaining vodka-Whitney-cran or whatever the fuck it was, eyeing your every move as you made yourself at home, navigating through the kitchen with ease.

You placed your grocery bag of snacks and drinks you brought in the fridge, closing the door with your heel before cracking open a cooler, and taking a sip as you turned towards Nick. He loved how comfortable you were here, in his house, as if it was your own. Where you were meant to be.

“Hey,” Nick nodded, the corners of his mouth turned up. “Freddy Kruger.”

He maintained eye contact, your E/C eyes lingering in his, the glint in them playful, as if you knew what you were doing to him. The cut-up red and black striped sweater hung cropped across your body, leaving one shoulder exposed, a variety of fake slashes drawn into your skin. The faux-clawed glove was placed on your non-dominant hand, and a brimmed felt hat was placed on top of your head.

“Do you like it?” You asked, giving a slight twirl, and as you turned Nick swore he could see the bottom outline of your cheeks. His face flushed as he shifted in his seat, eyes turning to the floor, becoming very interested in the wood.

“You look fantastic,” Nick said.

You smiled as your face warmed at Nick’s words, even if prompted. Taking another sip of your cooler you hoisted yourself on the counter, sitting on top of the faux marble, the top cold against your thighs.

Nick’s silver eyes glanced up at you through his lashes, before he stood up, grabbing himself another drink.

“You drunk yet?” You asked him, and Nick shook his head in response.

“I was waiting for you, plus, I didn’t want to participate in folio’s rigged version of cup pong. Who plays it where if you miss the ball you drink?” Nick pressed his lips together, before going back to the punch bowl to fill his cup.

“The hell is that?” You nodded towards the bowl, curious about what sort of Halloween-themed drink was made.

“Some garbage Jolly mixed up.” Nick looked into the cup, shrugging before taking another sip. His eyebrows furrowed in disgust, squeezing his eyes shut.

A laugh escaped your lips, “Let me try.”

Nick walked towards you, your legs parting slightly as he stood between you, careful not to get too close, reaching the cup out for you to grab.

Instead of grabbing the cup you leaned forward, placing your lips against the plastic, prompting Nick to feed you the liquid. He tilted the cup, eyes watching your lips intensely as you followed his stare. You took a big sip, coughing after you pulled away. The alcohol flowed down your throat, burning at its strength.

“Jesus, that’s fucking gross,” you covered your mouth briefly before taking a chaser of your drink. You chugged the rest, letting your legs swing as they dangled off the counter, Nick still standing close to you, the heat radiating off of him.

You leaned to the side, tossing the can into the recycling as Noah turned the corner, his eyes brightening into a drunken smile as he swayed towards you, open arms.

“Y/N!” He yelled, the bass of the music pumping in the background.

“Noah!” You immediately jumped off of the counter, being engulfed in his embrace. Noah’s hands trailed down your back, dangerously close to the bottom of your skirt. “Happy birthday you nerd!”

Nick watched as you two hugged, his chest tightening as Noah’s hand rubbed up and down your body.

The two of you swayed, Noah, leaning all of his weight into you in a drunken state. You smiled into Noah’s hug, squeezing him. As you pulled away, you readjusted his Leaf Village headband, a sly smile playing on your lips.

“You’re such a dweeb,” you pushed Noah’s shoulder, and he smiled staring down at you, “and you’re so drunk already.”

“Nahh ” Noah wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you against him, “you’re just not drunk enough. Time for some shots!”

You laughed, agreeing as Noah reached into a cupboard for a bottle of tequila- something he knew was your favourite. Noah filled two shot glasses, before you wrapped your elbows around each other, taking two shots of alcohol together in a ritualistic fashion.

Nick averted his eyes as his breath hitched, refusing to watch as Noah held you to his side after the two glasses rested back on the counter.

Your head rested on Noah’s shoulder as you hiccuped from the alcohol, eyes looking up at him. Noah began to sway back and forth to the music, pulling you along with him, before swinging you around. You laughed with Noah, smiles beaming against each other. You followed Noah’s body but watched Nick the entire time.

Nick didn’t look at you, eyes fixated on his cup that he took another drink from, swallowing every drop of liquid. You sighed, shrugging Noah off of you before walking up to Nick, and wrapping your arms around him. He stiffened at your touch but put his arms around you.

“Aw Nicky, are you jealous?” You teased, reaching up to run your fingers through his long dark hair. Your chest rested against his own, and you could feel his heart vibrate against yours. You tried pulling his body to dance with the music, but he remained put, placing his arms across your back, hand holding you against his chest.

“Thanks for the drink No-wah,” you smiled cheekily at him.

Noah grabbed a beer from the counter, “anything for my baby girl.”

Nick was jealous. He was jealous at how easy you and Noah got along, and how you were ready to be in Noah’s arms at any second, but he didn’t know that you knew this got under his skin.

You knew flirting with Noah made Nick jealous, and you loved how possessive Nick always got once you went crawling back to him. You wanted Nick to be jealous, and you wanted him to want you.

Both of you desired each other, but neither was brave enough to make a move.

“C'mon,” you grabbed another cooler from the fridge for you and Nick, bending over slightly in his direction so your ass was barely exposed to him.

Standing up you sauntered towards him, hanging him the can before grabbing his hand. Feeling the warm feeling of the alcohol start to pulse through your veins, you tugged him along the house, walking past the crowd of people before you walked into the living room.

You wrapped your fingers in Nick’s inked ones, holding him close to you.

The living room was packed with people, the only spot available being on the couch; for one person.

You motioned for Nick to sit before inviting yourself to sit on his lap. Nick’s breath caught in his throat in surprise.

You wiggled to get comfortable, and Nick placed his arms across your torso, holding you still against him.

You knew he wouldn’t be able to contain his excitement if you kept moving.

Folio and Jolly’s cup pong game was going on in front of you, and as you brought the can of alcohol to your lips you couldn't help but let a sly smile play at your lips as you thought about teasing the man beneath you.

You pushed into his lap, wriggling your hips along to the music.

“Sorry Nicky, trying to get comfortable,” you said playfully, chugging the can of alcohol before placing it on the coffee table.

Nick’s fingers dug into your hips, attempting to hold you still against him; but he hardened beneath you, a quiet groan heaving from his throat as you shifted along his lap.

“Y/N,” Nick warned, letting a hand go as he grabbed his can, drinking the entire thing to give him the liquid courage.

Both of you felt the buzz of inebriation, allowing the warmth to consume you. Pretending to be invested in the game ahead you leaned back, placing your back against Nick’s chest, letting his hands roam the top of your thighs.

“What are you doing,” Nick asked through gritted teeth, but his heart raced in anticipation at your actions.

You dug your hips into him, feeling the music. No one would be paying attention to the two of you, everyone, including yourselves, would be too drunk to notice.

Sitting up you spun your body so you were straddling his waist, legs parted on either side of him. Your skirt was so short it rode up, exposing the underwear you wore beneath; but only for him to see.

Nick swallowed harshly, eyes glazing over in infatuation as he watched you, your lip finding its way between your teeth. Placing your arms around his neck you eyed every expression, glazing over every detail of his face as Nick flushed. As your body swung back and forth gently, you gained the courage to lean forward, placing a gentle kiss on Nick’s lips.

Nick stared at you, almost in shock. He wasn’t sure if this was a prank, or if he was already so far gone that he was lucid dreaming.

Nick's hands glided along your thighs as they gripped you from behind, squeezing gently. You had kissed him, and his entire body was on fire.

“Kiss me,” you said in a hoard whisper, almost desperate, waiting for Nick to respond to your first move.

Nick was hesitant and nervous as he pulled himself closer to your lips, brushing over them gently, before closing the gap between you.

You sighed into his mouth, relieved as Nick reciprocated feelings, allowing yourself to relax into his touch, body heating as his hands roamed behind you, squeezing gently at the skin.

You deepened the kiss, pushing your lips firmly into his, closed-mouth kisses opening with each wave, allowing your hands to roam into his hair, tugging softly on the strands.

Nicks's body convulsed below you, and he pulled away, staring up at you with awe.

“Want to go upstairs?” You asked, and he nodded eagerly as you crawled off of him. Nick grabbed your hand hastily as he pulled you behind him, the journey up the stairs feeling like it dragged on forever.

The music pumped below you as Nick closed his bedroom door, the sound dampening ever so slightly, the floor shaking with the bass.

Nick immediately shoved you into the wall, lips all over yours in desperation, devouring you, years of pent-up need coming out full throttle.

His hand roamed up your body underneath your torn long sleeve, granting himself access to all the curves he’d dreamed of touching. The number of times he touched himself, fantasizing about your taste, left his knees weak as he let his mouth explore yours, finally.

You moaned against Nick's lips as he fondled your chest, his hands searching very crevasse of your being through years of missed opportunity. You moulded into his touch, feeling excited as your abdomen vibrated in complete want for the man holding you against the wall.

Nick's fingers lingered underneath your skirt before pulling it up gently, grazing between your panties before roaming back up.

You moaned against the subtle tease, eyebrows furrowing as you pulled away from his kiss.

“Nick, please, don’t tease me,” you whined, pressing your forehead against his own.

Silver eyes bore into you as his lips tugged up into a sly smile, “if you don’t like my teasing, why are you moaning?”

Nick’s fingers roamed between your legs again, gently pressing where you needed him most and a feral sound escaped your lips, leaving you embarrassed. Nick stared at you with lust, almost in shock by how you were reacting to him. Nick allowed his fingers to glide between your body and underwear, feeling between your folds. His already hard body pulsing even deeper as he felt how soaked you were; all for him.

“Please,” you said as he touched you.

“Please don’t stop Nicky,” you whispered as his hand dipped between your layers. Nick planned to make her soar, but first, he loved hearing you beg for him, and only him.

“What do you want,” Nick's lips brushed across yours, this unknown confidence sending his hormones to the moon. The woman of his dreams was wriggling beneath him, desperate for anything he had to offer.

“I need you,” you said, pulling his face into yours again, allowing your tongue to explore his mouth, tasting all of him. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t even walk.”

Nick almost melted at your words, his heart beating so fast in disbelief. You want him to pleasure you.

He nodded eagerly, pulling you towards his bed, and tossing the Star Wars bed sheets aside. Nick pushed you into the bed, on top of you with all of his weight, allowing himself to dominate over your body.

Kissing down your neck your hands roamed across his back, and finally, he stared you down.

“Are you sure you want to do this Y/N? Because there is no way we are just fucking friends after this. You’re mine.”

You shuddered at Nick's possession, nodding, “I’ve always wanted to do a little more than kiss.”

Nick blushed, kissing you again before letting his lips trail down your neck, sucking on the delicate skin that lay between your neck and collarbone.

“You’re mine.” He said, marking what was his property before turning your body so you were above him.

“Ride me until your legs start shaking from the pleasure. Let me fuck you so deep you can’t even think about anybody else ever again; then I’ll flip you over and drill you to finish it off.” Nick growled, and your eyes widened at this needy side of Nick you’ve never seen before, but you were ready to give him anything he wanted.

Nick pulled off his robes, leaving his body exposed for you, you pulled off your sweater, showing off your chest and Nick's eyes devoured you, absorbing everything you showed him. He’d dreamed of this moment and what you looked like many times: but even his mind couldn’t come up with anything as beautiful as the real thing.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous,” he worshipped you allowing his hands to follow your curves once again. He pulled up your skirt, exposing your lower body as he moved your underwear to the side, positioning himself below you.

“I can’t believe you wore a skirt this small with no fucking shorts,” Nick mumbled, preparing himself.

“I wore it just for you,” you smiled, before closing the gap and pushing down onto Nick’s body, your arousal gliding you smoothly along him. Both of you groaned in disbelief, Nick relishing in how good you felt wrapped around him, his body finally reaching every part of you.

Your mouth opened widely as Nick filled you, a squeak of shock tugging at your throat as Nick squeezed your sides, pulling you up and down to get you to move.

You slid up and down his body with ease, hands on his chest for support as you road him, rolling and grinding deeper into his body, Nick hitting every point possible. Nick wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest as he began pounding into you from below, putting all of his effort into fucking you.

“Moan for me Y/N,” Nick begged, “show everyone who’s fucking mine.”

Nick's hands gripped the back of your head, fingers tangled in his hair. Every ounce of his body vibrated as he fucked you, his hips slapping against your thighs as you straddled his lap, taking everything he offered. He gave you his everything, never fucking anyone as hard as you, wanting to make you feel good.

Nick couldn’t believe how fucking beautiful you were as you cried out his name, the syllabus rolling off your tongue in complete satisfaction; and Nick knew that he would cum at any moment. He slowed his pace, wanting this to last forever.

Your nails dug into Nick’s shoulders as you clung to him, taking him well. Nick hoped you were loud enough against the music so Noah would hear; he wanted him to know that you finally got what was rightfully his.

You moaned Nick’s name as your stomach churned, nearing your release; Nick repeatedly hitting your spot over and over. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, your body turning limp as you screamed, shaking and convulsing against Nick through your orgasm.

Nick pushed into you, and you swear if he fucked any harder he’d be able to split you in half with how deep he penetrated.

“Where can I come?” Nick asked, on the brink of his climax. Y/N’s skin stuck against Nick’s chest.

“Fuck, inside of me,” you cried, pushing yourself against Nick’s hips, the only sounds filling the room were the sound of fast slaps and a string of moans fighting against the bass of the music below.

“Oh my god Y/N I’m going to I’m going-“ Nick’s fingers dug into your back, tearing your skin as he shook below you, twitching inside through his orgasm. You kissed him deeply, moaning against his lips in complete satisfaction as his release filled you, taking over your body.

“Fuck,” your head swung back, a wide smile parting your lips before you looked down at him, still sitting on top of his body.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you moan,” Nick smiled, satisfied as he rolled you over, pulling him into his chest, “it was fucking music to my ears.”

You chuckled, nuzzling against his chest, “So, friends off?”

Nick joined you, his throat vibrating as he laughed, “Oh yea, I’m ready to move to the stage where we can fuck whenever we want. Oh, and I can take you to dinner and we can hold hands.”

You smiled, holding yourself closer to him, “Deal, but only if I can suck you off next time.”

———

Who’s next, folio or jolly? ;)