#I will be active till morning tomorrow

[insane-twilight-fan]

Just a heads up for people I will be gone for the next week because I am going on a trip.

If you don't see me online that is why.

[fxllfaiiry]

❥ It's so sweet, knowing that you love me

★ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

★ summary: miguel knows you're pregnant, the only problem is he doesn't know how to to tell you. ─ or the time miguel found out before you.

★ warnings: fluff!! usage of many pet names, angst if you squint, miguel being a simp for his wife, pregnancy stuff, swearing, some shitty humor.

★ notes: there aren't enough dad and husband miguel fics out there so i had to write this!! icon credits: @/natashowlet

Miguel knew something was off, he’s known for days.

You’ve recently been throwing up, having odd cravings and random mood swings. At first, he thought you might be sick, you thought the same thing but now he knows it's not that. You were definitely pregnant. Everything adds up, and all of it made sense, then again he could be totally wrong. 

He made up his mind to try and talk to you once you returned home, he would surprise you with a romantic dinner and bring up the subject. He had about an hour to prepare everything. 

Well, that's what he thought, the second he got up to start preparing, you waltzed in through the door. 

“Mi Amor, I’m home.” Why are you home this early? He wanted to surprise you. 

“Mami, why are you home so early?” He says pulling you into a bear hug, usually, he would squish you completely but right now he wasn't sure that’d be the best idea. 

“What, aren't you happy to see me?” You chuckle. 

“No, no I'm really happy, I was just gonna cook you a surprise dinner that's all,”  he replies bashfully

“Aw, that's so sweet.” You threw your arms around him, placing kisses wherever you could reach. “I have the best husband ever.” 

“And I have the most amazing wife, now come on let’s go make something to eat.” He scoops you up in his arms and carries you bridal style towards the kitchen. He desperately wants to bring up the topic of you possibly being pregnant but now was not the best time, he didn't want to ruin the moment. 

This conversation could wait till tomorrow, right now he just wanted to enjoy some time with his wife.  

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Good night, Miggy.” His head was buried into your neck, his arms were secured somewhat tightly around your belly, and your smaller hands were coving his bigger ones. 

He thought about bringing up the topic right now but quickly scratched off that idea.

He was so tired from the day's activities, he could fall asleep instantly.

He could hear you slowly drifting off, your breathing calming him down and lulling him into slumber... well almost. 

Just as he was on the verge of falling asleep he heard something ─ or rather someone. 

He could hear another heartbeat. Coming right from you. He thought he was going crazy at first, but the closer he listened, the clearer it got. He was right, you were pregnant.

Holy shit. You were pregnant. He was going to be a dad. 

In all this, it occurs to him that you didn't even know yet, he would have to tell you tomorrow no matter what.

He’s so happy. He finally has another chance, he won't mess up this time. He would do anything to protect you both.

But what if you didn't want kids just yet? The topic of kids has come up before and you both want them, but what if you changed your mind? There were so many things that could go wrong but Miguel tried to push all the negative thoughts away and focused on falling asleep. 

He slept like a baby that night. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 

“So, honey, I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He avoided having the conversation all morning, now he needed to tell you. 

“What is it, Miggy?” You sit down looking at him expectantly. You could see that he was nervous, it was obvious by the way he was acting. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yes, everything is fine, mi corazón, don't worry.” How should he start? Should he just jump straight into it or start off slow? He should have thought about this before, well no time to do that now. 

He took a deep breath and it all came rushing out “I think, actually no, I know that you’re pregnant.”  

Silence. You were too stunned to speak. 

“Excuse me?” There was pure shock written all over your face, he would’ve laughed if the situation was different. 

“I heard 2 heartbeats last night, one was yours and the other one was -”

“Are you sure? I mean are you 100% sure? Maybe you heard something else?” You didn't want to get your hopes up just yet, you always wanted a baby with Miguel but if this turned out to be a false alarm you would be a little crushed. 

“I’m 9.99% sure. Bebé, if you want we can get a pregnancy test done?”

“Yeah okay, let’s do it.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

An hour later both of you stood in the bathroom. Three minutes felt like hours right now. 

You might be pregnant. This isn't some crazy dream.

“Bebé, if you don’t want to keep the baby I absolutely respect tha-” He’s still not sure if you’re happy with this or not. He was worried he messed up in some way. 

“No, I want to keep the baby but I just don't want to get my hopes up just yet. I definitely want to have a baby with you.” You wrap your arms around him, his scent calmed you down. You were going to be okay. 

“I want to have a baby with you too,” he whispers. 

You lean up to give him a kiss, your hands gently coming up to stoke his cheeks. Miguel pulled back and mutters, “I love you.”  

“Love you too.” A moment later you both heard the timer going off. This was it. 

You slowly step forward picking up the stick and turning it around. 

Positive. You were pregnant. 

“Well, what does it say?” This whole thing is making him feel so anxious. 

“We’re having a baby.” His wife is carrying his baby, this is real, he isn't dreaming. 

“I knew it! I was right.” He pulls you off the ground and into a hug, placing kisses all over your face while muttering small “thank you’s” and “I love you’s” 

“I can't believe we’re gonna have a mini O’Hara running around soon,” you giggle kissing his jawline. 

“She’s going to be just like her mother. ” Knowing a mix of you and him was going to be here soon made him feel content. 

“How do you know they're gonna be a girl, hm?” 

“Just… a small feeling.” His small feeling would be proven right 9 months later.

[drabblesandimagines]

Pink Gingham

Leon Kennedy x reader Established relationship, all fluff

It had been a long week at work. A number of your colleagues calling in sick and multiple projects in the pipeline, you’d tried to take up some of the slack with ill-advised early starts and late finishes...

Truthfully, if Leon hadn’t been away on assignment, you wouldn’t have volunteered for so much overtime.

The house still felt too big compared to the apartment you’d once shared, so the more time out of it at the moment the better, in your opinion. You’d started to feel a little off Friday morning, cast it aside as nothing that a lie-in Saturday would sort, but still found yourself awake at sunrise.

You’d got up, checked your phone to see if there were any messages – zero – showered and dressed, and taken the early wake-up call as a sign that you shouldn’t lie in today, but instead head downstairs to start on the long list of housework that had been neglected with good intentions.

You fill the kitchen sink with hot, soapy water and begin to wash the numerous glasses and cups that have built up. It must be the steam from the sink because there’s sweat on your brow by the second cup. You reason you should wait for the water cool down and take a bottle of water out the fridge, greedily gulping down half the thing before you change tact to loading the dishwasher.

After loading up the racks, you still feel too hot for what should for such a menial task. You’re feeling more akin to that time you tried to join Leon in one of his ridiculous work outs in the garage. To top it off, the beginning of a headache is now beginning to pound at your temples. You try and rub it half-heartedly away with your fingers, finally fighting back a yawn.

You check your phone again – still nothing.

It wouldn’t hurt to go back to bed, would it?

--

Your phone buzzes almost violently on the bedside table, startling you awake. The headache you had before you’d laid down for what might turn out to be an ill-advised nap doesn’t seem to have shifted, even with the painkillers you’d taken. In fact, it feels worse than it did, graduating into a horrible, constant throb around your temples.

You weakly kick the duvet off of you, feeling flush – should have got changed into your pjyamas rather than getting in bed fully dressed - and reach out blindly for your phone, holding it above your face to squint at the screen, trying to decipher what it was determined to tell you.

Two new messages from Leon.

Finally on my way home, sweetheart. Wrapped up yesterday but they wouldn’t discharge me till this morning. ETA 210 minutes.

You would’ve rolled your eyes at the acronym if it wasn’t already hard enough to focus.

And before you ask – bit bruised. Don’t recommend a prison tour…! All good otherwise x

Leon had set out on an assignment the previous weekend and you hadn’t heard much from him besides one text message a day, a sentence of more than three words if you were particularly lucky, often sweet words...

"All good."

"Miss you, sweetheart."

"I love you."

"Recycling out tomorrow!"

..or reminders about something you'd forget to do completely if he wasn't around. In fact, that’s the way it had always been if he was on what you’d call 'active duty', not just him in a stuffy suit up DC way, trailing behind the President. It's not like you’d got used to not hearing much from him, just that it was expected.

There was always that little lump in your throat when he was away, of course there was, that this would be the time you wouldn't hear from him at all and there'd just be a knock on the door, agents dressed in mourning suits.

Besides, you’d rather his focus was on coming back to you in one piece than trying to compose an update whilst shielding from bullets or something horrifying.

You haul yourself out of bed, immediately regretting it when your vision swims and you fall back down heavily on the mattress, balance somewhat abandoning you.

Probably just got up too fast, you reason, try and shrug it off. There’s there niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach that you’re not well, but you’re going to remain in denial about it. You hate being sick, will never acknowledge you’re feeling under the weather to your grave and just muster on. It’s all psychological – it’s just a headache, you haven’t drunk enough water, not after you’ve sweated the last one out, didn’t have a proper breakfast either.

You’re fine. There’s too much to do, anyway. Every single time Leon had arrived home from an assignment it had been to a clean house and a home-cooked meal keeping warm in the oven, his favourite sweatpants fresh out of the dryer after you’d convinced him to soak in the tub – worked wonders for tense and bruised muscles – and you’ll be damned if he didn’t have the same today. It’s what he deserves.

He'd beam as soon as he walked in, wrapping you up tight in his arms, pressing a kiss against your temple and you’d run him said bath, finishing off dinner to be served for when he returned downstairs. What would follow would be an early retreat to bed, sometimes for devouring kisses and more, or just embraced in each other’s arms.

Leon’s text was from a while ago, so he couldn’t be too far away. Probably be hungry as well – often running off pure adrenaline when he was fighting for his life, then had an insatiable appetite on his return – so you really should try and see what you could combine from whatever’s in the refrigerator.

Ugh – you hadn’t done a grocery run in a few days. That had been on your agenda for today, though you’re not sure you’ll have time for that now. The laundry hamper is close to overflowing, the dishwasher definitely needs running after you crammed it full after dinner last night, some rogue plates and glasses piled up besides the sink and definitely a few rooms would benefit from the vacuum being run around.

You don’t even what to think about the garbage and recycling situation.

So much for his usual welcome home deal, then.

You get up a little slower this time, rewarded for your efforts by no spots of black in your vision and carefully head out the bedroom and towards the stairs, perhaps gripping the banister a little too firm on your descent than usual.

The easiest task by far is to pop the tablet in the dishwasher and set that to run, so you do that first, though making sure to bend down slowly after the previous bouts of head rush. After it whirs into action, you grab an apron off the hook – a pink frilly gingham one, a gift from a friend – and turn your attention to the fridge and proceed to stare forlornly at the contents, hoping for inspiration to strike.

You close the door in defeat and lean up against the counter. Maybe there’s some pasta and sauce in the cupboard…? Your thought is cut off as you hear the front door unlock.

“Sweetheart, you home?” You want to think it’s the sound of his voice that makes you weak at the knees, but you’d be a liar.

“In the kitchen!” You call back, keeping yourself propped up against the counter. Usually you’d be rushing towards him, colliding into his chest for a hug but everything feels impossible.

“Hey.” He smiles, creases at the corner of those blue eyes you could stare into for hours. Though he wasn’t lying in his text about the bruises – there’s a black eye blooming, currently a rather pleasing shade of purple, and plenty of other marks and scrapes littering his arms.

“Hey. Sorry, I haven’t started dinner yet.” Leon raises his eyebrow at that, and you feel awful, but it’s not for the reason you think. “No, sorry. I mean, welcome home! I’ll just star-” You stand upright, intending to head over to the cupboard in search of something, but your step is a bit too heavy, too quick to move and your vision swims again.

“Whoa.” Leon catches you by your shoulders, holding you up. “You feeling all right there, sweetpea?”

“I’m great.” You try and shrug him off, but his heavy palms stay in place. “Are you okay?”

His brows furrow, eyes scanning over your face. “You look hot.” The concern gives way to a grin as he realizes what he’s said. “I mean, not the usual hot. Warm.”

A hand remains on your shoulder while he moves the other to your forehead, gauging your temperature, but you’ll be damned to admit it feels soothingly cool. “I’ll turn the AC on. Let me-”

“Shit, no. You’re burning up.” Leon’s eyes widen, a worried crease appearing on his brow. “How long have you been like this?”

“No, it’s just…” You pull your head back from his hand, reluctantly. “It’s just hot in here.”

He gives you a skeptical look as you try and step around him – a look that would usually be accompanied with his hands on his hips if he didn’t still have one keeping you in place.

“How long?” He repeats, his mind racing, heart pounding. It was protocol to be decontaminated after any interaction with a BOW – he’d showered and changed clothes since Alcatraz. Hell, he’d bagged up his old ones to be incinerated, just to be sure. He knows it’s not logical, he can’t have brought something back with him and it affect you this fast, but the worry still surfaces. “From before I got home or just now? Did you feel a sting or anything?”

“Sting? No.” You shake your head, scrambling for excuses. “I’ve had a headache all morning but I probably haven’t drunk enough water. And… And I didn’t have the AC on or the windows open today, it’s probably that.”

“Mm-hm.” He relaxes a little, he’d already began calculating the distance between here and the lab. “Have I told you before that you’re a terrible liar?”

“Honestly, I’m fine,” you protest, taking advantage. “I can get dinner started at least. You go relax and I’ll…!”

Your vision swims again from sudden movement, but this time it’s from Leon sweeping you up into his arms. He doesn’t even let out a grunt, even though you know he must be aching from the amount of bruises he has.

“Sweetheart, we’re barely into the afternoon. You don’t need to worry about dinner - you’re going back to bed.”

“No, I’ve got so much to do.” You lament, though you don’t fight as he adjusts his hold on you, wrapping your arms around his neck as he heads towards the stairs.

“So? I can handle it.”

“But you just got back, I should be looking after you.”

That’s the way it had always been. Leon comes home and you’re there for him, however he needs you to be. Sometimes he’ll tell you about what happened as he cuddles into your chest – likes to hear your heartbeat, reminds him of some good in the world – but you’ve failed miserably this time, not even remotely prepared.

“Sweetpea, I know you hate being sick but you aren’t going to feel any better pushing yourself, okay? Let me fuss over my favourite girl for once.”

You don’t say anything as he places you gently down on the bed, sitting up against the headrest. He goes over to the dresser and pulls out one of his t-shirts, tugging the knot of the apron strings loose before softly asking you to put your arms up above your head. It’s all gentle touches, removing the apron, coercing you out of your top and into his, shuffling you out of your jeans and pulling back the covers for you to get in.

“These the painkillers you took?” He lifts up the box from the bedside table, eyes skimming the instructions and dosage.

“Yeah.” You mumble back, nuzzling your cheek into the pillow. “I don’t remember when though.”

“We’ll hold off a couple more hours, then, before another dose.”

He grabs the glass that was sat beside the pills and retreats into the bathroom, where you hear the tap run for a moment before he’s back at your side, placing down the glass of water. He crouches down besides you and gently brushes some of your hair behind your ear.

“Can I get you anything?”

You open an eye. “You.”

He grins, gets to his feet and carefully clambers over you to lie down at your back, draping a heavy arm around your waist.

“Only for a bit, though. Don’t want you overheating from me.”

“Mm-hm…” You mumble into the pillow, feeling your body relax. The weight of his arm feels nice – reassuring. “Love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

It isn’t long before Leon can hear your breathing change, assuring him that you’ve drifted off to sleep. He could stay there easily, just close his eyes and nod off and though he knows you would never oppose that, the way you’d be so determined to get the house in order... A flash of pink gingham on the floor makes up his mind.

---

You wake up alone in the bed, a little confused, but clear of the awful headache. Looking for the glass of water you know that Leon left there earlier, you notice that the bedside table now holds your phone, plugged into charge. You sit up slowly – still wary of dizzy spells - greedily drink from the glass of water, feeling it slip down your throat into a particularly empty stomach. Seems like your appetite had decided to reappear.

The digital alarm clock over on the dresser shows that it’s gone 8pm and, most intriguingly, the laundry basket is now empty. Huh.

You don’t bother to dress as you head downstairs, still clad in Leon’s t-shirt. The TV’s playing on a low volume, a candle burning on the coffee table. You can hear the thrum of the washing machine from the utility and when you head through to the kitchen, you find Leon hunched over the sink, apron strings tied around his waist as he dips a glass into the soapy water. The dishwasher is slightly ajar and you can see it’s been emptied, and he’s washing everything left in the sink – by hand.

He looks over his shoulder with a hesitant smile at the sound of your footsteps and then turns, drying his hands off on the apron – the pink frilly gingham number seems to suit him a little too well.

“Hey. Not sure you should be up yet, sweetheart. You were a bit unsteady on your feet earlier. Go sit down for me?”

“Okay.” You nod, and he’s pleased that you don’t protest – putting it down to the fact that you still must be feeling somewhat lousy. He traces your footsteps as you plod over to sit on the sofa though, just in case, and watches you curl up against the armrest.

“You feel up to eating something? I ordered in some soup earlier. Can warm it up on the stove now if you like – it’s your favourite.”

You nod. “That sounds nice.”

“Coming right up.” He pulls the blanket from off the armchair – the one that’s usually reserved for movie nights – and tucks it around you, pressing a kiss on your forehead as he does.

He turns to head back to the kitchen when he feels your fingers curl around his wrist, causing him to pause.

“I’m sorry I’m an awful patient.”

“You’re not, just stubborn,” Leon corrects with a cocky grin, but it doesn’t have the desired effect as the pout remains in place on your lips, thoughts spiraling. “But so am I.”

“No, I should be looking after you. You should be coming back to everything in order. Whatever this is won’t be anywhere near as bad as what you’ve been through - those bruises look so sore an-“

“Hey, it’s not a competition, sweetpea.” He says, softly, crouching down in front of you, rubbing your thigh with his right hand. “We’re a team, aren’t we?”

“It feels like I’ve let you down.”

“Never.” He says, firmly, giving you thigh a squeeze. “Actually impossible. I’m just glad I got back in time to keep an eye on you, I just hate the idea of you feeling lousy on your own.”

The washing machine beeps from the utility and he gets to his feet, passing you the remote from the coffee table. “Why don’t you find us something to watch, and I’ll move the laundry to the dryer and get that soup warmed up?”

“If you’re sure.”

He bends down, presses a kiss against your crown.

“Positive.”

He only makes it a few steps back towards the kitchen when you call out, looking bashful.

“Leon?”

“Mm?” He twists slightly to look back in curiosity.

“You look cute in that apron.”

He gives you a twirl, ending with a beaming grin. “I know.”

---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

[retrolvr4]

I’d Fix It If I Could

Darry Curtis x Female Reader

Pt 1

Warnings- Smut, fingering, oral (female receiving), p in v, reader has female anatomy, praise, orgasm denial if you squint

A/n- you don’t have to read the first part to understand the second! Thank you all so much for all the support on my previous fic’s, I appreciate it so much 💗 Hope you enjoy this one!

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

You had fixed Dinner for Soda, Pony, Darry and yourself. The rest of the boys having gone off to other places for nightly activities. 

“I know a hot meal probably isnt ideal considering the circumstances but I hope you boys still like it” you said as you set down plates of spaghetti in front of the boys. 

“Dont worry your pretty little head, this looks delicious, thank you for making dinner darling” Darry said to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek. Resulting in a ‘yuck’ from Pony and Soda. 

You were grateful he allowed himself to sit down and let you make and serve dinner. He was always working or busy with something and you enjoyed being able to help out. 

“Y/n it looks real good and i'm always starving after work” Soda complemented 

“Yeah y/n, I've been wantin’ spaghetti real bad, thanks for makin’ it for me” Pony gushed 

You laughed and thanked them all for the praises on the simple dish. 

The four of you sat down for dinner, Pony talking about the latest book he’d read, Soda talking about weird customers he ran into all while Darry watched you adoringly, he loved how good you got along with Pony and Soda and how much you cared for them. Always asking about their days and laughing at their stories, comforting them if something went awry, and threatening to beat up guys double your size if you heard they hurt Pony. 

After the four of you had eaten, Pony and Soda headed to their rooms while you and Darry cleaned up dinner. Darry was washing the dishes while you cleaned off plates from the table. 

“I never knew a man could look so hot washing dishes” you giggled, slightly mesmerized by Darry’s biceps and his muscular figure he had built from the long days spent at work. You set the dishes down in the sink then wrapped your arms around Darry’s waist from behind, you slowly began to press gentle kisses on to his back, working your way up to his shoulder blades. 

“Doll you can’t keep teasin’ me like this” he groaned “I’m not gonna make it if you keep getting me all worked up” You felt him shiver 

“What if I want you to be all worked up” you whispered back 

“Well thankfully all the dishes are clean” He replied drying his hands off with a towel 

“But don’t they need dried and put away” you teased, continuing to work slow kisses along his shoulder. 

Darry turned himself around so he was now facing you, you laid your head on his chest and were now hugging his waist. He held the back of your head with his hands, playing with your hair and massaging your scalp. You sighed contentedly at his actions, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to be engulfed in his scent. 

You heard the creak of a door opening then the padding of footsteps down the hall. You turned your head to face who you heard, not leaving Darry’s arms. You saw Soda giving you an amused look and Pony standing behind him with a teasing grossed out face. 

“I’m gonna go meet with Steve, there’s some party he wants to go to tonight, I probably won’t be back till late” Soda told you and Darry

“And I wanna go to the drive in, I told Johnny I’d meet him there, I’ll probably be home late too” Pony chimed in

“Alright, just be safe and I’ll tan both of your hides if you're not back home by the time I’m up tomorrow morning” Darry threatened, only half kidding. 

You left Darry’s embrace to give Soda and Pony quick hugs “have fun, and call if you need anything” You said to them, both of them leaving soon after. 

“We got lucky” you smiled, heading back over to Darry “got the house all to ourselves” 

“Exactly what we needed sweet thing” Darry cooed, he picked you up, holding on tightly to your waist. Seconds later his lips were on yours, hungrily kissing you. He moved you over to set you down on the counter, still kissing you needily. 

He moved his hands down to your thighs running his fingers along them as he began to kiss down your neck and onto your collar bone. 

“Been needing you so bad” he muttered between kisses, small whimpers coming from you. You worked your hands through his hair, pulling on the strands when he would suck and gently bite on your skin. 

“Youre gonna leave marks” you said softly, not opposed to the idea but wanting to make sure he knew. 

“I want to honey” he replied, looking up at you with big eyes “want you to think about me when you see em’” 

Your stomach flipped at the sight of him, the lustful look in his eyes, the small smirk that played on his face, as you felt him gently running his hands along your thighs and hips. 

“Darry I need you” you whimpered out. 

Darry quickly picked you back up and carried you down the hall to his room, softly setting you down on his bed. He climbed on top of you and tugged your tank top over your head, his lips back on yours in an instant. He unclasped your bra with ease, throwing it to the side. 

He pulled back from you to admire your figure “You’re so beautiful my sweet girl” he praised

You blushed at his complements and pulled him back into you, kissing him slowly and sweetly, in contrast to the fast pace that had previously been set. 

You tangled your hands into his hair and he moved one of his hands to your breast, he cupped it then gently began toying with your nipple, slowly rubbing circles and lightly pinching. The sensation made you moan softly and he groaned at the noises you were producing. 

You began to play with the hem of his shirt, slowly pulling it up, hinting at what you were wanting. 

“Words baby” he said, noticing your actions

“Can I take your shirt off?” you shyly asked him 

“course you can” he replied sweetly

You lifted his shirt over his head, admiring his toned figure for a moment before you crawled into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist, and began kissing his neck, moving your way down to his collarbone. His quick breaths and grunts had you pooling with arousal, you felt his erection on your thigh so you knew you werent the only one getting worked up. 

He began to toy with your waistband, “love when you wear these shorts, they look so beautiful on you” he groaned out, you hummed in response. 

“can I take em’ off?” he asked you sweetly 

“Yes, please honey” you said eagerly, and he moved you onto your back, shimmying the shorts down your soft legs. 

Darry hovered over you for a moment before leaning down to give you a loving kiss, then working his way down your body, kissing every part of you. He stopped just below your belly button. Looking up at you with loving eyes “this okay?” 

You nodded quickly, desperately needing him closer to where you desired him most. 

He pulled your undies down and placed a sweet kiss on your swollen clit. He quickly licked up the arousal that had been forming “so wet for me” he muttered, tongue diving between your folds. 

He slowly pushed two fingers into you, you groaned at the sensation and grabbed onto his hair, it had once been cleanly slicked back but you had made a mess of it by now. 

You felt a sensation building in your stomach as Darry worked his fingers in and out of you, curling them to hit the soft spongy spot inside of you. 

Just as he was about to push you over the edge he quickly pulled away. You whined at the loss of contact and he shushed you.

“Can you wait a little bit for me baby? You’re doing so good” he cooed 

You groaned but agreed to his request.

He unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down along with his underwear. 

You nearly drooled at the sight in front of you, Darry was hard and throbbing and the look in his eyes told you he desperately needed you. 

He moved so he was hovering over you, your gaze met his and you gave him a nod to signal that you were ready. He lined himself up with your entrance and slowly began to push into you. 

You gasped at the sensation, pressure building as your body tried to adjust to his size. 

“Youre doing so good for me” Darry praised “you okay honey?” he asked, wanting to know before he pushed further into you. You nodded and he pushed into you the rest of the way. You were completely filled with him and he groaned at the pressure of your walls clinging to him. 

He began to thrust in and out of you, slowly at first but your whines of pleasure encouraged him to move quicker. He moved his face into the crook of your neck in an unsuccessful attempt to muffle his moans. You were a mess underneath him, moaning at the sensation with each move of his hips, you were frantically grabbing him anywhere you could, squeezing his biceps, scratching his back, tugging on his hair, any kind of contact you could get with him. 

“Fuck” Darry groaned “feel so good doll” he managed to get out between heavy breathes. 

You felt your orgasm approaching as pressure built in your stomach. 

“I’m so close Dare” you cried out. He quickly moved his lips to yours, swallowing your moans, he continued to thrust into you, hitting the perfect spot every time. 

You sloppily kissed him as you felt your release nearing, one of your hands holding on to the side of his face while the other tugged on his hair. He held tightly onto your hips holding you in place as he fucked you. He felt you clenching around him knowing he was nearing his release as well. 

“It’s okay baby” He cooed to you, signaling to you to allow yourself to release all the pressure that had been building. 

With a few more sloppy thrusts you were pushed over the edge, the pressure releasing as you were thrown into pure bliss. When Darry felt your walls clench around him he was soon releasing inside of you. Groaning as the two of you rode out your highs together. 

When you had caught your breath, you kissed him on the forehead, he was a sweaty mess but he looked so handsome. Both of you whispered ‘I love you’s’ and Darry praised “you did so good, you're so beautiful” 

After sweet kisses and giggles Darry stood up to go run a bath for you. You whined at the loss of his contact “I’m just gonna start a bath so I can get you cleaned up, I’ll be right back” he said with a small laugh.

You sat up and threw Darry’s previously discarded shirt on to cover up your exposed body. 

Darry was back seconds later as he had said and he raised his eyebrows at you wearing his shirt “practically swimming in that thing” he chuckled as he moved towards you and placed a kiss on your forehead. He wrapped his arms under your legs and back and picked you up to carry you to the bathroom. 

“Darry I can walk” you said with a teasing attitude

“Nope, you're getting carried” He responded and kissed your forehead. 

Darry set you down on the countertop in the bathroom and helped you pull the shirt off, he then picked you up and set you back down in the bath, now filled with warm water. 

He helped you wash your body, massaging and scratching your back in the process. 

After you were cleaned up he’d given you a clean shirt of his per your request, you told him it was still too hot to put your pajamas on and you batted your eyes at him as you asked if you could just wear one of his shirts to bed. He agreed of course, knowing he couldn't say no to you especially when you looked at him like that. 

Both of you laid down in bed, worn out from your previous activities. Darry placed a hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles along your hip as the two of you fell asleep. 

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

[angelismmm]

oohhh i love your blog!! how about some morning sex headcanons with albedo, ayato, kaeya and cyno?

⟢ a rising sunset in the east ft. albedo, ayato, kaeya, & cyno ・synopsis. early mornings, busy afternoons, it all calling for intimacy in the bright sun rays through the cracks of the curtains that spill onto the floor, and slow sensual sex at the crack of dawn, right before he goes. ・notes. ugliest and cutest color combo ive ever made, #696969 for the win tho, bro why did i ever think writing was easy without fancy ahh words. day ii: im losing it, i cant write dom albedo, its ok i tried ・warnings. nsfw, morning sex, gn!reader, dom & sub!reader, dom & sub!character, strap/cock mentioned

THE ALCHEMIST: ALBEDO ・such a sweetheart honestly! wants to make those little moments between you two at least somewhat sweet, but he can't help but whimper at the way you went so slowly up and down his cock. and damn did it feel good. probably likes cowgirl / missionary the most. probably has a lot of stamina too! could go on 'till night time again if you wanted him to. orgasms too easily though, so overstimulation with him can barely be avoided. likes to call you an angel, or just basic petnames (i.e. love, darling, dear, etc., he's really cheesy). pretty loud in bed if i don't say so myself. like dom or sub, either way he whimpers and groans a ton, gets turned a whole bunch when you moan, lets him know you like it too yk? ・oh and if you the one pegging/thrusting him from behind or what, do wtv u can to his nipples, he likes that. like a lot. tug on them, rub them, like just doing that and being the one pounding his ass and he'll fall in love, praise him while doing it, tell him he's a good boy and you are on your way to make him orgasm another time. probably real sensitive too, like i said he is prone to orgasming a bit early into sex, like after tugging on his nips for a bit he probably will come as soon as that dick/strap come inside of him!!! anyway back to srs writing, he loves praise a lot, do that and rub his nipples, he'll come untouched. more sensitive in the mornings btw ・aftercare w him is soo soft, like he'll make sure you're both showered and stuff, makes sure you're okay, continuosly asks actually, cuddles you to sleep, before he goes in the morning, forehead kiss and goes out the door feeling like a man with the greatest partner ever.

THE YASHIRO COMMISIONER: KAMISATO AYATO ・likes being in control, any position will do honestly, whatever you're most comfortable with. major tease & wastes 0 time, wastes 0 time is going drunk on your taste, i feel like he's more into sucking/eating you off/out, doesn't have the energy to rail the fuck out of your hole, but maybe a taste of you could give him more energy, yk? gets so drunk on your taste he almost doesn't realize you've already came and your cock/pussy is already off his mouth, will probably overstimulate you a bit too, maybe even edge you a bit after that. ・degrades you like no tomorrow, but likes being degraded when you're the one pegging/thrusting into his ass. likes being punished too, probably the type to go "i'm too tired for this" when you ask if he's your slut to purposely piss you off. will gladly bounce on your dick/strap though, absolutey goes crazy on it, please place hickeys on his neck, show everyone that he belongs to you when he goes out <3 ・loves aftercare, loves also to shower kisses on your back while you both get ready for the morning activities, and as long as you ask for it he'll get for you, makes sure everything you want and need it there for you while he isn't there, so a kiss to your forehead, and he's out the door, and those little things that you had kept your eye on but don't wanna go out anytime soon? he'll get it as soon as possible! just sit tight, and wait for him, that's all he needs from you.

THE CALVARY CAPTAIN: KAEYA ALBERICH ・god damn, he is definitely a big tease while you sleepily ride his cock, your eyes barely open, pleasure running all throughout your body, your hands on his chest, the only thing that really helped your body up, and kaeya can't help but groan, you felt so ethereal, it made him feel like he's falling in love with you all over again. he just needed this before work, just needed you this one more time, he's been almost too busy, it took too long this time for a single mission to be completed, he's glad you can help him relieve his stress! ・probably praises you immensely, and whatever position is okay as long as neither of you have to move that much. pound him while his face is in a pillow, literal praise prince, seriously loves praise so bad, tell him he's being such a good boy taking all of you in. his loud moans in pleasure echoing through the hallway, loves even more if you fuck him in front of a mirror, seeing how much of a mess you've made him, gets turned on so bad, even if it's just you jerking him off, your smooth hands running over his red tip, aa just please keep going!! ・the type of guy to call you mommy/daddy, just depends how far you guys are into it (as in round wise yes.) anyways, aftercare is a dream!! so gentle with you honestly, getting showered with him is so heavenly too, smooth talker plus showering you with affection? such a sweetheart, and if you really can't walk after like in the other headcannons i made for ayato, he'd go for errands for anything that you need, but not 'till 8am, it's still 6am, he'll stay with you for a bit. just a bit 'till he goes.

THE GENERAL MAHAMATRA: CYNO ・WAAA baby is so sensitive, literally just touching all over his cock for a bit makes him wanna cum soo bad, just say the word and he will paint your hands white <33!! his drowsy eyes could barely keep up with the speed of how fast of a pace your hands were going up and down his dick, spurts cum everywhere honestly, kinda heavy load everytime he does too. will let you dominate him in the morning, doesn't really care ・make him choke on your fingers if he's being too loud, definitely likes getting degraded, but praise isn't out of the choices. a mix of everything, really, just don't let it be related to gory stuff, makeout with him and jerk him off, and he'll be off happier than ever. sensitive all over, just seriously do anything to him, more prone to cum just by you stroking him. ・if he does end up being a dom, lots of praise and kisses, really just soft thrusts into you. the belly bulge on your tummy is really what keeps him going, seeing how much of his seed is inside you, holds your hand throughout most of the rounds too, lowkey arrives late to work because of aftercare with you. ・treats you like a queen/king, reminds you all the time how much he loves you and cares about you, that's why he doesn't go that hard during sex, wants to make sure you're comfortable, likes to hold you in the shower, just you and him.

you can tell i was dying while writing this it's kinda icky too so mb.... cg on 700 followers for me ig.......

[definitelynotstable]

Camomile pt. 11 [Ghost x gn!Reader]

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10, pt.11

AN: Another one <3 She is very game orientated and action heavy. Bare with me babes! For the plot!

Synopsis: Closely follows the “Kill or Capture” mission from mw2 (reboot). Rights to the game developers <3 Word count: 2.5k Warnings: Canon divergence, canon-typical violence, military shit, guns, explosions etc.  Ghost x gn!Reader (callsign: Rags)

Not proof-read (sorry!)

✧˚ · .

Missions came and went and you slowly but surely found yourself shaking the nerves you had returning to active duty. Trainings and drills were back full force and each night you returned to your room with aching limbs. Ghost and you had returned to the unspoken routine of drinking tea in the small hours of the morning. The Lieutenant had come to relax considerably around you and was less stoic; his replies during conversation longer and more detailed than they had ever been. 

“There’s a briefing tomorrow.” He’d begun starting conversation more too, rather than waiting for you to break the silence. 

“Oh?” You reply, not looking up; eyes skimming the pages of the book in your lap. “What about?”

When he doesn’t respond you frown, closing the book and meeting his gaze. His look is undecipherable, cobalt eyes stern. “Him.”

You narrow your eyes, confused. “Him?”

“Makarov.” The name is spat from his mouth like he’d swallowed something bitter. 

“A new lead?” The team hadn’t had one in months. 

Ghost nods, playing with the string of his teabag. “Price think’s it’s solid – Laswell too.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask, shutting the book and sitting up from where you’d been laying on the couch. You eye the Lieutenant cautiously, “I’ll know tomorrow won’t I?”

The man sighs, dropping his gaze to the table where he runs his finger over a dent. “Jus’ wanted to give you a warnin’.”

You can’t help but smile. This man. Simultaneously one of the most intimidating and softest you’d ever met. “Oh well,” you clear your throat, standing and moving to drop your now-empty mug into the sink, “thank you for letting me know.”

✧˚ · .

The briefing room has been rearranged so Laswell can video call in, you slide into an empty chair next to Soap who slings his arm across the back of it, allowing you to see past his broad chest. 

“Do ya ken what this is about?” He whispers to you as Price closes the door, you nudge him with your elbow; shushing him as the Captain starts to speak.

“Mornin’, Kate,” the man speaks to the woman on the screen.

“Morning John,” she nods back, acknowledging those behind him, “team.”

A few people murmur a hello, Ghost, who stands against the wall with his arms crossed, nods with a grunt. 

“Alright, assuming no one has breached our confidence, you all don’t know what this is about.”

You flick a glance at Ghost, he doesn’t even blink; watching Laswell with a blank expression. 

“We received intel just over 24 hours ago regarding the whereabouts of Vladimir Makarov – commander of the Russian PMC Konni Group and associate of the ultranationalist political party.” She types something into her laptop and a grainy image appears onscreen. You grit your teeth, ignoring the way Gaz and Soap look your way. 

“Though we belief the intel to be solid, it is too risky to make a move till we can figure out his intentions.” 

You swallow, almost relieved you won’t have to face the man behind your still-healing scars just yet. 

Price steps forward, “We thought you all had the right to an update considering recent events.” His eyes dart to yours before turning to the laptop in front of him.

“Instead we have orders from the General – a new HVT.” He hits a key and Laswell is moved to the side, images which can only be of the aftermath of a missile strike take over the screen. “Following our strikes against the Russian-backed Iranian forces and the recent assassination of Iranian General Ghorbrani a new player has emerged – Hassan Zyani.”

This portrait is less pixelated than the last, strong brows and a salt-and-pepper beard soften his sharp features. He doesn’t look like a murderer – though you suppose the dangerous ones never do. 

“We believe he has begun funding terrorist activity in an attempt to seek revenge on the United States for the strike which killed Ghorbrani, Shepherd wants as us to put a stop to it before it starts.”

✧˚ · .

You aren’t surprised Laswell doesn’t have much intel on Makarov. He’d only been known to Price and 141 for a short while before your capture. His motives were unclear – a grudge against Price was not a strong enough factor to kidnap and torture an SAS operative on an multinational special operations unit. It was as though he had used your capture to test something – though you weren’t sure what. 

“Wheels up in ten.” A voice interrupts your train of thought and you look up to see Ghost, decked out in his tactical gear. It’s odd seeing him in the kitchen, a place you’d only really ever seen him enter in more casual clothing.

“Thanks LT.” You reply, stuffing a handful of camomile teabags into your empty pocket. Though you drink them when you can on mission, it’d become more of a good luck charm for you to always have tea with you.

Though he’s wearing his hard-shell mask, you can tell the Lieutenant is raising an eyebrow at you. You brush past him, fiddling with the zipper on your pocket. “You coming?”

You swear you hear him breathe out a laugh as he follows you out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the tarmac. 

“I’m starting to think I need to carry out uniform inspections.” Ghost says, reaching over you to hold the door back. Wind tousles your hair as you step outside – the blades of the helicopter already spinning. 

You cast a look at him over your shoulder in disbelief only to find his eyes creased teasingly. You scoff, hitting him softly with your glove – not yet on your hand. “Cigarettes aren’t standard issue either, LT. Cigars too – Captain wouldn’t be too happy.”

If he replies you don’t hear him, the roar of the chopper drowning everything out. Soap’s waiting by the door and you give him a pat on the shoulder as you clamber into the heli. 

You’re being sent to Al Mazrah – the last known location of Hassan. It’s a short chopper ride to an airfield nearby and then a bumpy few hours in the metal belly of a military plane.

 ✧˚ · .

“All shooters have execute authority, but we want Hassan alive for interrogation.” Laswell’s voice echoes in your head, “And be advised, Major Hassan is A.Q.’s lifeline – if he is there, they will die for him.”

You, Ghost and Soap are running point on the mission with a group of MARSOC Marines ordered by Laswell to assist. A rough landing and a rushed briefing later and you’re in a chopper heading for the field. 

“Bravo team offloads here.” Ghost calls over the roar of the helicopter as it lowers to the ground, the red light casting an ominous glow as he marches through the hull of the chopper. “Alpha team stays onboard to land downrange. Both teams meet in the middle. Remember, we want Hassan alive, but this is capture or kill.”

You’re on Alpha team, Ghost gives you a single nod and Soap bumps your fist as they exit the heli. 

“Keep up, Soap.” The Lieutenant growls and Soap gives you a grin before following suit. 

The ramp closes behind and your friends are out of sight. The helicopter shakes and flares light up the sky. You make your way to the cockpit, the pilot is yelling into the comms.

“Incoming – Flares! Flares!”

The whole chopper jolts to the side and you just manage to hear someone over the radio scream “second missle!” when the world explodes around you. Fire and metal and smoke consumes you as the heli careens towards the ground. You dive forwards into the cockpit further, heart racing.

“Razor 1 going down! We’re going down!” The pilot calls and the vehicle meets the ground with a sickening screech. 

Not a single limb escapes the impact and flames sear into your vision. Something is buzzing in your ear and you hack out a cough, raising a hand to the comms.

“Alpha what’s your status?!” Ghost growls in your ear and through the haze you can hear the panic. “Alpha, how copy?”

You crane your neck, taking a quick inventory of the bodies strewn around – some still, some moving. 

“Bravo,” you manage to rasp, lungs burning. You lean over the pilot, fingers pressed under his jaw and against his neck. “Alpha is immobile. Multiple critical!”

Glass sprays as bullets spew in your direction, you lunge to the ground, swearing. 

“Shit!” You swear, comms still on. “We’re taking effective fire here, LT!”

You can hear Ghost swear back, “Alpha, we’re moving to building 1. Hold tight!”

You grit your teeth, you know he can’t just rush over to your aid. The priority is Hassan. You can hear Soap argue in the background but Ghost shuts him down. 

“Roger that, LT.” You reply, ducking as another round is sent your way. You fling a flash-bang back before popping up and returning fire.

You turn around, a young marine called “Red” has managed to pull the wounded inside and flagged the dead. You continue providing cover as he works. It’s dark out but the flames fuck with your night vision. The enemy has the advantage. You take aim at a small group in the treeline, gasping when a single bullet burrows into your shoulder. Pain flares and the impact sends you into the control panel.

“Fuckin’ sniper,” you warn the other soldiers as you push yourself up, “watch it, we’re sitting ducks here.”

“Affirmative.” One replies, from where he crouches near the now-lowered ramp.

“Alpha 0-2, Bravo 0-7.” Ghost crackles through your earpiece and you almost sigh with relief. 

“Tell me you’ve got some good news for me, LT.” 

“Building two secure,” he says by way of assurance, “We’re coming for you.”

“Roger,” you respond, signalling to the marine by the ramp to hold his fire. “Ramp’s down – we’re waiting for you.”

You stumble over to the man kneeling amongst the bodies, holding your shoulder as the figures of Ghost and Soap enter the heli. “What’s the total, Red?”

“We got five KIA and one wounded, not including you,” the soldier says, stumbling to his feet.

“Including you?” Ghost asks, as he and Soap come to stand in front of you. 

You shake your head. “It’s nothing, we need to move him though.” You say, pointing at the wounded soldier.

Ghost shakes his head, eyeing the window, gun raised. “No time. They’re here. Get your gun on that treeline.”

You catch some ammo Soap throws your way. “I’ve had my fucking gun on that treeline the whole time, there’s too many.”

Bullets ping off the hull of the heli and you return fire, struggling to see through the haze of the flames, your shoulder burning.

“Got movement.” Soap calls from your right, squinting through his scope.

“Engage!” Ghost responds, firing rounds at the figures moving through the trees.

You spot movement and move your scope to get a closer look. “Shooters at the wall!” You warn.

“You fuckin’ called it, LT.” Soap says, swearing as he ducks to reload. 

The smokey haze is impossible to penetrate and you pull your night vision visor back just as a projectile soars in your direction. 

“RPG!” Red yells, the warning useless as your very bones vibrate as it explodes agains the side of the heli. An arm wraps under yours, pulling you to your feet.

“Gun up, Rags.” He says roughly, already raising his gun. “They’re getting close!”

Your wound throbs as the butt of your rifle returns to your shoulder but you make quick work of a group of hostiles running towards the chopper. 

“We clear?” Soap asks after what seems like hours but is only mere minutes.

Ghost squints through his scope, the gunfire has ceased but flares roar. “For now,” he raises an hand to his ear, “7-6, call for fire. I want air on that treeline.“

He turns to you, “Air-support’s three minutes out. Stay sharp.”

The wreckage shakes with a loud thrum and you stumble into Ghost. He rights you, raising his gun. 

“They’re launching fucking grenades!” You cry, mirroring your Lieutenant, reloading and picking off the hostiles before they can launch more.  

Out of the corner of your eye you see a man fall to the ground. “Red’s hit! Man down!”

Ghost steps in front of you are you make for the marine. “He’s dead. Keep your gun up, Sergeant.”

Tears burn in your eyes. He was so young. 

You force yourself to ignore Red’s body as you take up his position by the ramp.

“Ghost, we should fall back to the house,” you hear Soap call over the bullets and explosions.

“Negative.” is the Lieutenants gruff response, “We clear this position and push hard. If Hassan’s still here, he’s out ahead.”

✧˚ · .

“LT, I spot armoured vehicles! There’s four of them!” A marine from Bravo team calls out.

“Conserve your ammo,” the Lieutenant calls back, “Let ‘em get close.”

The comms crackle, notifying you of incoming air-support.  You send back an affirmative, tensing against Ghost who crouches next to you as the vehicles are cleared – the heat of the explosion flaring as the heli rocks,

He pats you once on the shoulder and you wince. He doesn’t notice, gesturing you to follow and you quickly reload before moving after him. The rugged roads and graveyard of exploded vehicles soon morphs into fields and you flick your night vision visor back down, the light of the flames behind you. 

“There’s a sniper up ahead, Rags you take point.” Ghost calls as you run towards the second building. 

He grips your wrist for a second and you turn, gun poised away from him as you give him a questioning look. He gestures to a body on the right, a marine. Your heart sinks. You follow Ghosts hand and where he points to the rifle in the dead marine’s grip. 

He covers you as you sling your G3 across your back, prising the weapon from the mans grip. You quickly asses it for any damage and nod to Ghost – it’s in good shape. The Lieutenant follows, guarding your six as you squint through the scope. You can see a flash from the roof, something reflective is catching the flames from the distance. The sniper. Now knowing his position you find him immediately through your scope and take a deep breath before firing. The bullet zips through the air, the silencer giving a sharp huff of air. 

“Good shot there, Rags,” Soap clasps your shoulder and you flash him a grin. 

“Not just here to look pretty, mate.” You respond, moving towards the building, covering the squad from your vantage point. Air-support opens fire on the other side of the building and you take it was your chance to enter.  Now is the hard part – find Hassan dead or alive.

✧˚ · .

Taglist

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Masterlist

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Kiss Me, I'm-

A Curtis and Honey Holiday Special

Summary- 3.2k Curtis x Plus Sized Reader. Saint Patrick's Day is in full swing at Paulie's Bar. You and Paulie play a friendly game of flip cup, that results in the whole bar getting a special holiday round of beer. As well as an opportunity for Curtis to get you all to himself.

Warnings- Dirty Talk, Sexual Activities, Alcohol Consumption, Buzzed/Drunk.

A/N- Thank you so much @mumbles411 for reading through this piece as well as all our conversations about Curtis and Honey. I really appreciate all the times you just drop a random thought and we weave whole scenarios around it. @bigtreefest thank you so much for dropping that ask in my inbox that prompted this. To all the readers, gosh you guys are incredible. Thank you!

If you happen to celebrate the holiday, please stay safe.

If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment and/or give a share.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

“You can try to kick my ass at this.” You smirked as you flicked the cap off of a jameson bottle, the top spinning across the bar's counter till Paulie smacked his hand against it to keep it from spinning onto his floor. 

“Oh girl, I know I am going to.” Paulie set down a line of red solo cups between the two of you, his eyes narrowed at your challenge. “Saint Patricks Day is a bartender's Christmas, I’m not about to let you out-flip me at flip cup.” He informed you while taking the bottle of Jameson, pouring some whiskey down the line and finishing the rest of the cups with his green beer. 

Edgar at your side scrunched up his face. “So instead of Santa, you have little leprechauns you look forward to? Just fucking creepy man, I hate those little bastards.” He shuddered. 

You laughed while bumping your shoulder against Edgar’s. “Even Lucky the lucky charms leprechaun?” 

“ESPECIALLY HIM! You know he is a scheming little bastard. You’ve seen the movies, those leprechauns will murder you just because.” 

Paulie scoffed at Edgar, setting the bottle and pitcher aside. 

“Oooh! That was such a terrible set of movies.” You glanced over your shoulder towards where Curtis was in a game of pool with Ella. “We should watch the leprechaun movie later!” The balls clanked loudly after he took his shot and straightened up, leveling you a look. 

“Honey, you taking that line of shots with Paulie, you’re gonna be out of commission tonight.” You scoffed to hide your grin, knowing he was right. After this topped  off with the green beer Paulie was serving to celebrate, you were gonna be wasted. “Okay, tomorrow then.”

Ella piped up from the other side of the pool table. “Oh, I vote sleepover and we build a fort in the living room to watch them. Curtis can make us his hangover cure.” 

“Deal.” You gave her some cheesy finger guns while Curtis eyed you, a playful gleam in his expression. 

“Remember that when I’m trying to get you out of bed tomorrow.” 

“Wait, can I crash this sleepover?” Edgar pouted and you slung your arm over his shoulder, drawing him in close. 

“The more the merrier, of course you're invited.” From behind you, you could hear Curtis and Ella debating about the best hangover cures and just how committed Curtis was to cooking for all of you in the morning. 

“Okay! Back to what we were doing… Paulie, you ready?” 

“At drinking you under the table? Sweetheart I was born ready.” He curled his fingers on one of the cups at one end, preparing. You both stare at each other trying to intimidate the other. “The one with the most flipped cups wins.” 

Curtis came up behind you at some point, his hands resting on your tense shoulders, squeezing lightly and you saw Paulie's eyes flicker behind you. “Bet’s on that Y/N gets in more shots. I know my girl, she doesn’t back down from a challenge.”

Oh did that make you tingle all over at his praise. Now you absolutely had to win.

“Prepare to lose your money Everett.” Paulie shot back but you just gave a cool smirk at the man. Edgar watched the clock above the bar and as soon as the second hand hit the new minute mark, his palm slammed down on the bar, making you leap into action. 

You were good at this game, college had taught you the efficiency of keeping calm instead of trying to rush in flipping the cups. 

Meaning while Paulie was fumbling with some of his flips, yours were steadily flipping in the correct manner, wincing whenever you came across the shots of whiskey, the beer though went down a lot easier. 

“Son of a bitch, flip.” Paulie sputtered, seeming to get stuck halfway up the line. You were laser focused, the whiskey making your eyes water with every heavy swallow. Curtis was whispering in your ear about how you were turning him on right then.

“Come’on Pretty Girl. Show them how good my girl is.” 

Between that and the burn of alcohol, you were swimming in the rush of it. The last cup flipped and you threw your hands up in victory with a cheer, just barely beating out Paulie by a matter of seconds. From behind you Curtis gave a victory yell, pulling you into him while you were still jumping and dancing in your win. 

“Ya got lucky.” Paulie huffed while Curtis reached over you to grab the Jameson bottle and took a drag off it, claiming it for himself. 

“My girl has fucking talent.” Curtis praised, his arms enclosing you against his firm chest. Warmth filled you, feeding you till you squirmed back against him, his grunt quietly muffled in your hair. 

“Tease.” He whispered, flexing his hold on you to keep you still for now. 

The whiskey as well as the rush of excitement had you floating on that feel-good sensation that you were ready to ride till it faded away. 

“Alright Y/N, how are we celebrating?” Paulie leaned against the bar after cleaning up the pile of red solo cups and the remnants of jameson spilled across the bar. 

“Beers.” You demanded. “St.Patrick’s Day demands it.” 

“How about the next round on me then?” Paulie offered, gathering up the pitchers of beer to refill glasses. 

“THE WHOLE BAR?” came a shout from somewhere in the room, you suspected it was Ella. Paulie conceded, waving over his customers to claim their free beer. 

Curtis took his chance with the rush to the bar, tugging you away from the crowd and slipping the two of you through doors leading to the back rooms and the office. You giggled as he rounded on you, grabbing your hips and swinging you up to wrap your legs around his waist. “We aren’t supposed to be back here.” You chided, teasing as your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, hovering your lips close to his. 

“Paulie is too fucking busy now losing part of his profits to notice where we are.” Curtis growled while continuing his mission to get you all to himself. Pushing open the office door with his shoulder, his hand fumbled on the lock while you crashed your mouth to his, 

Pinning you back against the door, your head banged back with a soft thud while he traveled away from your lips, grinding into you. 

“How's that whiskey treating you Pretty Girl?” 

You whimpered when you felt his kiss at your pulse point turn harder, making you tingle at the sensation. “Good, really good…” 

“Want me to make it even better?” His mouth finds your ear, teasing you enough to make you bite your lip at the loss of his mouth. 

This man knew how to drive you crazy, your body arching to press against his all that much more although he already had you pinned tightly against the door. “Please Curtis?” Your tone is aching and needy, lust filled.

“Fuck when you sound like that.” He growled as his mouth reclaimed yours, swinging you away from the door and falling back into the chair behind the office desk, while your hands reached between you two, tugging his belt open. “It makes me so fucking hard for you.” 

“How long do you think we have?” You moved to kiss along his bristled jawline, nipping at his neck while he reached around you to shake the computer mouse and pull up the bar's cameras. 

“Plenty of time Pretty Girl.” He wrapped a hand into your hair, pulling you back till you were sitting up straight and his eyes could roam up and down your body, licking his lips like you were just made to be devoured. “Get out of those pants and turn around.” His palm smacked against your ass, making a slapping sound but your jeans kept away any sting. You lifted yourself off to do as he asked, a glance over your shoulder showed him shimming his pants and boxers down off his hips. For good measure, you stripped your shirt off to drop it with your pants. 

“We’re gonna have to buy Paulie a new chair.” You giggle as you finally get one of your legs free and Curtis grasps your hips to make you back up, his touch going between your thick thighs to tighten his fingers into your panties, making them rub right up against your clit. “Fuck.” You hiss, rocking your hips enough to create friction. 

“Leather chair Pretty Girl, he will never know once I wipe it back down.” 

The image of Curtis’s ass cheeks in the leather made you giggle between breathy moans, another glance over your shoulder catching sight of him spitting on his hand and rubbing it up and down his cock. You couldn't muffle the giggles while Curtis pushed aside your panties finally and had you start to lower on him slowly, gentle bounces and thrusts working him in. “Although your ass print should be considered a work of art.” The image of framing the chair with two distinct ass cheek imprints having you laughing harder until Curtis pushed you down into his lap. 

“You're a fucking work of art, remind me to nail you up against a wall later.” He stated, his hands flexing in appreciation along the curve of your hips.

A gasp escaped you, falling back into his chest with a buzzed grin plastered on your face. “I ever tell you how much I love feeling you. Mmmhh when I first met you I said ‘Y/N, that man has a cock made to ride.” 

Curtis snorted behind you, running his hands up your front to tease your breasts in his hands, pushing your bra out of the way. “Was that before you went all teacher mode or after you left?” 

You moved your hands over his, making him squeeze harder till he was doing the exact pressure you wanted. “Oh definitely during, the whole time we were walking around and I had to ask those questions. Good thing I had my note cards or else I would have failed at being logical.” 

You felt the press of his smile against your cheek and a groan coming from him, followed by a curse.  Squeezing your cunt around him always made him a little more vocal and you loved hearing him. “Wanna know what I was thinking the whole time?” He muttered in your ear before pushing you forward to sit up, your hands landing on the desk edge in front of you and his own touch slid down to your hips. 

Digging into you like he was holding on. 

“How this perfect fucking cunt was made to take my cock.” He thrusted up hard, making you jolt in his lap and flutter excitedly. “Knowing how god damn sexy you would be when you went mindless, begging for more.” He started faster, making you bounce on him. Your hands tightened their grip on Paulie’s desk to keep you from falling forward, the jolts making your little sounds escaping broken sounding almost pathetic. “How you played sweet and innocent that day, but I knew that was just a show…”

Your head nodded, your ass slapping down onto his lap now, your body jiggling in the forceful movements. His cock pounding into you was making your eyes roll, how good it felt to feel him fuck into you over and over. “T’was Curtis, I wanted…” 

“Wanted what Pretty Girl?” He asked, his tongue and teeth sinking into your shoulder blade and kissing your flexing back. Sure there would be a mark on you, his mark and that satisfied him on a whole other level. 

“That.” 

“What’s that?” Curtis let go of your hips, to roam his hands over you, palming your breast again and squeezing till you shuddered in his hold. Your own touch flew back to grab at the back of his head, holding on. 

“To be dirty for you.” 

He hissed when your cunt fluttered again, squeezing and sucking him back in, like you never wanted him to leave. “Fuck you are, you would get down right now and suck my cock, or bend over this desk wouldn’t you? All with the office camera rolling for a video.” 

Your head nodded, tilting back with parted lips crying his name out louder than you should have. His hand at your chest slapped over your lips, muffling your cries. “My pretty little whore, we gotta be quiet.” 

You didn't care, the alcohol buzzing in your system, sneaking off with Curtis and him talking like this to you was making you stupid with pleasure. Your pants were rushed, the slap of your body against his and the creak of the leather was just adding to it all. The small office felt heated, now smelled of sex, and you couldn't stop giggling behind his palm. “You gonna come for me, soak this cock?” 

A firm nod had you grabbing at his hand still wrapped at your waist, shoving it between your thighs with a moaning yes when his fingertips pressed against your clit. A deep laugh, knowing that you needed to have that touch in order to get yourself off. “Come on Pretty Girl.” He grunted in your ear, the twirl of his fingers and the rub he was giving your clit making your heart race, the tension just before coming building, swiftly now. Like you were about to crash. “Someone is gonna come looking for us, and see you spread all out on this chair with my cock buried deep in this weeping cunt. You don’t want that do you?” The snap of his teeth signaling just how close Curtis was. 

No? Maybe? You knew it gave you a rush, which just added to the moment. “Curtis!” His name falling from you like a prayer muffled behind his palm, ready to crash into shattered oblivious pieces, falling apart in his lap where he yanked you back, the slap of his hips underneath you had his cock pushing into your squelching cunt while chasing for his own orgasm now that you came. 

Yours left you floating, giving yourself over to him to use you however he wanted while you just let yourself continue enjoying the buzz of sex and alcohol. 

“Fuck, FUCK!” Curtis’s muffled roar was against your shoulder, biting onto you with a grunt as he pulled you hard onto him one last time, warmth making you clench on him again, rocking your hips slightly with a satisfied moan of your own. Your head tilted into his, both of you panting heavily to catch your breaths when his hand dropped from your mouth and rested against your heaving chest, his palm flattening against the racing of your heart.

“We should sneak in here more often.” You snickered while pushing up to sit, Curtis sliding his hands around your waist and following up to hug you from behind, letting his face press against your shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, I know where Paulie hides his office keys for when he starts locking the door.” He muttered, pressing kisses across the top of your back to the other shoulder. “Move that mouse, see where he is.” 

You leaned forward to shove the mouse enough to take off the old school screensaver, peering at the grainy screen. "Still at the bar, busy too. Looks like Saint Patrick's Day really is his Christmas.” 

“Good…” Curtis gave a push to have the chair roll back away from the desk a bit. “Turn around so I can hold you proper for a few minutes before we go back out there.” 

“Does he really have cameras in here Curtis?” Your eyes bounced around, searching. You certainly didn’t want Paulie seeing this on video. 

“No Honey, I helped him set them up and he just has one facing the door, not inside.” His lips pressed against your shoulder and then helped you to stand, your legs a bit wobbly and twist around to sit back in his lap, the leather chair giving a groan once more, making you break out in a giggle. 

Nothing was gonna ruin your mood tonight, not even knowing the chances you were gonna have a hangover could kill the high you were feeling right now. His arms wrapped back around you, palms brushing up and down your back while you tucked yourself in against his chest, silence filling the room. “You know I am really looking forward to tomorrow.” You tucked your face on his shoulder, letting your hand rest against his chest, playing with his chain, your fingers twisting in it. 

“Mmhh, is it the fact you are making a fort on the living room floor with Ella and Edgar to watch Leprechaun? Or the hangover cure I’m supposed to make you guys?” 

“Both.” You lifted your head, finding his lips with yours and giving him a slow affectionate kiss. “I love you very much. For much more than you making me feel really good in Paulie’s office, which he is gonna be pissed about.” You were sure to point out as his grin grew, his arms tightening just a little more to keep you in close to him. “Although I do feel really really good, and that's only a little bit from the jameson.” You rambled on and Curtis couldn’t help his reaction, his head tipping back and a deep chested booming laughter sounded, making you feel so happy to see him happy. 

Maybe you were more than buzzed. 

“I'm glad that it's seventy five percent me, twenty five percent whiskey?” Curtis ventured a guess, catching your chin in his forefinger and thumb to tilt your mouth back to his. 

“More than that, like ninety-ten.” You mumbled against his lips, the two of you teasing each other with soft playful pecks. “But i'm definitely drunk now.” 

“Mmh, I can tell Honey.” His answer was softer now, sighing against your lips. “I love you for giving me these moments in life.” His touch lingered on your face, cupping your cheek and this kiss was moved from your mouth up to your forehead, giving you a whole other satisfying sensation, one that curled into your heart. His gaze fell back to the computer screen with a soft shit under his breath. “Incoming Honey.” 

Right behind you was a pound on the door. “You two better not be fucking in my office!” 

You squealed, hiding against Curtis as if Paulie was gonna come barging in, which he wasn’t, he knew better. “Busted.” You loudly whispered while Curtis muffled his laughter once again. 

“Give us five minutes…. TEN!” Curtis shouted, watching the camera to see Paulie storming back towards the bar, sputtering. 

“I need to bake him some cookies to apologize.” You said solemnly as you too watched the camera’s with a twist of your head looking over your shoulder. 

“You do that Honey so I can taste test them.” He gripped your chin to turn you back to look at him. “Kiss me Honey? I’m-”

You didn’t let him finish, your lips pressing to his, cutting off the last of his words.

[kisses4lao]

please some vampire bi-han? 🙏🏻

You guys just can't get enough of the vampire writings smh y'all need Jesus(it's me, I'm Jesus and I'm writing this for you because I need it too)

Tw/cw: THIS ISNT GONNA BE AN NSFW BC I ACTUALLY WANT TO MAKE THIS FULL OF STORY!!! IF YOU WANT AN NSFW VERSION, PLEASE ASK ME!!! OR DONT IDC, you guys know the drill by now cmon (highly influenced by Angel from BTVS SUE ME IDC HES HOT)

Not proofread

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your relationship with Bi Han is a lot more complicated that it would be with Kung Lao or Raiden. He'd often times only visit you at night, and he'd only stay for a few hours.

It all started when you were walking home. Alone, in the dark, not a good match for a young woman. This was proven correct by you almost getting hurt in an accident, but luckily Bi Han was there to save you.

You begged and pleaded with him to tell you someway you could make it up to him. If it wasn't for him, you'd be dead! You thought you owed him your life.

After a few minutes of your back and forth, you saying he deserved something while he said he didn't need anything, you settled on taking him out for coffee.

You guys sat at that cafe for nearly 3 hours just talking. Talking about everything you guys could think of. At the end of the night, which only ended because the cafe was closing, he walked you home.

You didn't think much of it, you'd known each other on a first name basis by now and he just wanted to be nice.

Or at least, that's what you thought. He would show up every night after that, the exact same time, the exact same way, asking the exact same thing. "Would you like to join me for coffee?" Those words would ring in your head in the morning, he just kept coming back, asking the same thing over and over.

You didn't mind it, but at the same time, you found it odd. This man you knew for only 3 hours would come to your house every night, take you out for coffee, pay for everything, take you back home, and wouldn't talk to you again till the next night. Something about him was off, very off, but you didn't know what.

It's not that you didn't feel safe around him, you did, but there was something he wasn't telling you. You knew he wanted to, he just couldn't.

One night, he told you he was a private investigator, even going as far as to show you his official badge. You wanted to know more about it, considering most of the time he'd just ask about you and not talk about himself much.

He went on to say that he'd usually investigate disappearances, murder cases, and even paranormal activity sometimes. Bi Han continued by saying he'd often take care of the source of the crime before the police got to it, somehow always finding out inside information.

You were completely intrigued. You wanted to see him in action, but he said that would be too dangerous for you. He gave you his business card and walked you back home, telling you to swing by his headquarters tomorrow morning and he'll tell you everything you need to know about him.

He said it in such a serious way it sent chills down your spine. This was an offer you couldn't miss. You got up early just to be there on the time you agreed on, walking into I nearly organized office area.

Oddly enough, however, all of the blinds on the windows were completely closed. You thought this was extremely odd, wondering why, but before you could go too deep into thought, you could see Bi Han in the corner of your eye.

"Care for some coffee?" He says with a playful smirk as he points to the full coffee pot on his end table.

He had given you a small tour before taking you to the lower part of the building. "This is where I live, train, sleep, shower, everything. Call it a basement, I call it home."

To be fair, it was a finished basement, completed with rug and hardwood floors and even a spruce ceiling, at least he has taste.

He showed you around even more and ended the tour at his bedroom. "This is my bedroom. I like to keep it simple, but the bed is comfortable, I swear. It's memory foam."

He smiles at you before taking you to the small couch in his living room. He sat you down, and turned to you with a very serious look on his face.

"Y/n, there's something I've been keeping from you. Something I need to tell you. We've known each other for a while now," it's true. You guys have been seeing each other for coffee for the past 4 weeks. This is the very first time you've ever seen him in the day time, odd considering he'd never missed a day of taking you out.

"I know this is gonna sound insane, and I have proof, but I need you to trust me." He let out a deep sigh before continuing, "I'm a vampire."

You just looked at him, in complete disbelief. Not for the reasons you should be, though. You were wondering if he was joking or not.

"Are you being serious? Do you genuinely expect me to believe that?" You said as you chuckle into your hand a bit. He face only grew more serious as he took your hand and led you upstairs, going to the side of one of the windows before opening the blinds and letting you see as his hand began to sizzle. He let out a small gasp of pain as he pulled away, hand now smoking because of the heat.

You were in shock. You still didn't completely believe him, however. "Maybe you just have a skin condition, that doesn't mean anything."

You didn't want to believe the man that you had been talking to for so long was a FUCKING VAMPIRE. it was hard to come to terms with really.

He walked over to you slowly, holding up his hand as the smoldering wound miraculously healed in seconds.

He grabbed your hands, taking them in his as he makes eye contact with you. His gaze softens as he can see the uncertainty in your eyes.

He opens his mouth slowly, showing his retractable fangs. That's it. You were convinced. You gasped as he let go of you, letting you have your space.

"I know this might be a lot to take in, but I hope this doesn't change anything between us. I still care about you."

You genuinely don't know how to feel, conflicted by someone you thought you could trust. How did he go so long without telling you about this? It honestly hurt you to know that he was keeping this from you.

"I think we should have some time off from each other. I need a bit to process this, it's a lot to take in all at once." He could hear fear in your voice, and it broke his heart knowing he was the cause of it.

He nodded his head, watching as you left the building. He leaned back on his desk, wondering what he could've done better, wondering what he could've done to make you feel more safe.

He was going to make it up to you somehow, he just knew you needed time. He was patient, but after waiting so long to make you his, his patience is wearing thin. Very thin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: boom shaka laka

[bagdaddyb]

A Weems request!!!

So reader is a teacher her and Larissa are married and have a adopted one of the nevermore students maybe some fluff with the kid and on parents weekend Morticia is confused on why there is some random kid clinging to the Larissa till it is revealed that she has been married for years now and has a family

Thank you if you get to it or find it interesting!! Love your work!!💚🤍

Little Apple

Warnings: None pretty fluffy, unedited 

Authors note: Reader is not a teacher omg I suck at remembering the details of the request, Im so sorry anon I will rewrite if you don't like it

"But mooooooom."

Larissa couldn't help the smile on her face as she gave her son an amused look.

"Your mother will be here tomorrow for parents weekend and if there is even one scratch on her little apple we will both be in for it. I don't know about you but I want to enjoy the weekend with your mother not get scolded for all of it."

A laugh left the young siren boy's lips as he listened to his mother knowing just how you could get when it came to him, still remembering the time you made an old woman apologize when she accidentally brushed past him in the store when he was six and that was only a week after he had been adopted.

"Fine I won't go, but Wednesday will not be happy."

A sigh left the tall woman as she sat in the chair next to her son.

"I'd still rather it be her than your mother."

Another laugh left her son at that before he stood and embraced his mother in a tight hug, always one for physical affection from his parents he often hugged Larissa anytime they encountered one another. A pleased chuckle left Larissa's lips as she hugged her son in a tight embrace smothering him with kisses, laughter echoed in the room as the boy struggled to get away.

"Stop it mom."

A bright smile shone on Larissa's face as she ran her fingers through her sons hair.

"Alright off to bed your mother will be here around eight."

Nodding in agreement her son grabbed his backpack as he headed towards the door having been with his mom since classes let out.

"I love you Atreis."

"I love you too mom, sleep well, actually get some sleep."

......

“She said no.”

Wednesday’s face remains neutral as Enid’s face drops.

“Awww but I was actually looking forward to hunting in the woods.”

Enid whines out as she falls unceremoniously back on her bed.

“No matter we will only be gone a few hours.”

Shaking his head Atreis held firm.

“Sorry Wednesday I have to agree with my mom on this one, my mother will be here in the morning and I’d rather have a happy weekend.”

An eyebrow raised on the usually stoic girls face.

“Your mother? And here I thought Principal Weems preferred a life of solitude. Very well then we will postpone our activities.”

Atreis’s face contorted to one of confusion but nonetheless he turned leaving Ophelia hall for his own dorm room. A spark of excitement coursing through him at the thought of seeing you tomorrow.

......

Larissa's smile was blinding as she stood at the quad entrance welcoming all the parents that had come to visit their children. Nothing could contain her elated mood as she eagerly looked past every head awaiting yours to pop in the crowd. As she raked her eyes over the crowd for a forth time she suddenly felt a collision from her right.

“Good morning Mom.”

Atreis said as he hugged the white haired woman tightly. Looking down with a soft smile Larissa’s focus shifted for the first time in the past half hour.

“Good morning darling, did you rest well?”

Atreis only hummed in response with a smile enjoying the familiar feeling of his mom’s fingers running through his hair.

“Good morning Larissa.”

Morticia Addams voice catches the principal’s attention causing her to look up.

“Ahh Good Morning Mrs. Addams, so glad to see Wednesday’s parents could make it.”

“Anything to see my little storm cloud.”

Gomez pitched in with a smile, one Larissa returned in kind.

“Tell me Larissa do you always let your students cling to you in such a way?”

Atreis had only just let go of his tight hug opting to stand close to his mother as they waited.

“My students no never that is highly inappropriate. This is my son Atreis.”

A perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifted at that.

“Your son?”

Before Larissa could respond Wednesday appeared next to Atreis stealing everyone’s attention.

“Mother, Father.”

“My little viper, I knew I felt the winds get a little colder.”

A slight smirk appeared on Wednesday’s face in response, a beautiful hum flowed through the air notes of high and low that formed together to create an enchanting tune. Wednesday and Morticia observed the smiles that spread on Larissa’s and Atreis’s faces before looking through the entrance of the quad. A pathway seemed to form straight through the crowd your ethereal presence filling the room as you hummed your familiar tune calling to your son. You were a force everyone felt enter the room, there was something about you, a power an aura who knows but it called attention. Demanded it. Your smile was blinding, beautiful yellow dress flowing in the wind as you approached the entrance bright siren eyes glistening in the light.

“My loves.”

You said in greeting causing both bodies to move your direction. Your son collided with you first, tight arms wrapping around you as he buried his head into you, your familiar scent filling his nostrils. Larissa was merely a step behind wrapping her arm around your side before meeting your lips in sweet kiss.

“Hello my love.”

You release a happy hum as Larissa briefly puts her forehead against yours. Once she lifts you look down at your son bending to kiss his head before you pull him away from your body.

“Stand up let me have a look at you.”

Atreis did so proudly standing straight and even puffing his chest a bit for you.

“Aye my little apple how fast you grow. You look healthy, such a handsome young man your hair is getting long.”

You say as you run fingers through his tresses.

“I like it.”

Atreis smiled happily at his mother before Larissa cleared her throat catching your attention.

“Darling this is Morticia and Gomez Addams, old classmates of mine.”

Your razor sharp gaze is redirected to the family you only just now realize is hovering in front of you.

“My apologize it has been many moons since I last saw my family. Where are my manners, I am (Y/N) Weems. Larissa’s wife.”

You say as you nod in greeting.

“Wife? I was unaware you were married Larissa. That’s.. wonderful. How long have you two been married?”

“Going on thirteen years now.”

You said with a bright smile, one Morticia seemed to fakely return. 

“Mother I’d also like to introduce you to my friend ....”

“Wednesday.”

You finish for him with a bright smile.

“My son talks about you often, I do enjoy the stories of your ‘adventures’ together.”

“Anything he’s said is a lie I’m far worse.”

You only continue to smile as you speak.

“I would hope so.”

Turning back to your wife your smile remains.

“Well my love, I’m starved shall we eat something?”

Larissa goes to open her mouth in rebuttal, wanting to greet all the parents as they came in but with a quick sharp look of your eyes that response dies in her throat.

“Of course dear.”

Another small smirk appears on Wednesday’s face as she takes in the scene before her. Walking away with her own family she can’t help but think she might like come to like you.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Barou and Aryu as pets‼️‼️

I would ask for ahidpu or karasu but karasu is prob/def crow and i feel like shidou would be a cockroach for obvious reasons :>

U can do them if u still wanna tho

Thxx Bye bye :))

Send them in, I may surprise you ;)

Shoei Barou - Lion

-When Oliver asked you to come to practice you thought about various reasons why your presence should have been needed: maybe Barou doesn't feel well, maybe he needs some support, maybe he needs to calm down...all the reasons spin around Barou.

-And you were right, the focal point is Barou, just...something more unusual.

-"Look at him (Y/n)! Isn't he the cutest?" Snuffy shouts, a lion on his hands mane present but not fully developed, eyes as sharp as the finest katana; yeah it was totally your boyfriend.

-"Take care of him, probably tomorrow he will be back to normal" Oliver tells you, face and arms full of scraps, but smile is plastered on his face; someone got it rough...

-Actually taking care of lion Shoei was easier than you thought??? He keeps himself clean and try to bother as little as possible.

-Too bad he has his moment of anger where he shows his teeth, activating your fight or flight instinct (the flight always win).

-At least he has the decency to recognize the mistake, letting you ruffle his mane (he also purrs but it's better to not let him know)

-At the end he falls asleep on the bedroom floor, your hand patting his head 'till sleep took over.

-"Your house is dirty as fuck, I can't stay together with such a pushover" The awakening was traumatic.

-Worse part? You can't even tell him to fuck off, his teeths are still sharp. Best part? He still has cute ears and the tail wagging at each compliment you say to butter up his ego, making him do your house chores.

Jyubei Aryu - Black persian cat

-It all happens when you were visiting a nearby temple, you were prying and puff! All of sudden your beautiful boyfriend turned into a cat!

-A nearby priestess laughed at you "The yokais of this forest love to trick cute couples, don't worry everything will be back to normal tomorrow."

-So after recovering from the shock you went back home, there you finally started to appreciate your boyfriend new form.

-I say finally because Jyubei wanted the compliments way sooner during the travel back home.

-He keeps his drama queen attitude, you never heard a persian cat meowl so much. Why your photo album isn't full of him?? He has been striking the best poses ever.

-You didn't open a Insta account for him because you didn't want to spend your day taking photos; you preferred much more to pet his soft tummy; he liked it way less, his hairs must be perfect!!

-Loud meowls apart you spent a cute afternoon with your furry ball <3.

-"Mh, good morning my dove." Jyubei stretches out, long limbs falling from the couch you've slept on together.

-You feel something soft near your leg, then hips...does he still have the tail?

-You turn around, not only the tail, but also cat-ears! You can't resist that much cuteness, not when his beautiful face is so near yours!

-Your lips meet his ones, while your right hand scratched his fluffy ear.

-The meowl he let out was the best harmony your ears have ever heard; standard Jyubei, either beautiful or nothing.

[agaypanic]

in honor of August 1st being National Girlfriend Day (and majority of the world not getting that it's for girls to celebrate their female friends) I present: you taking bree out on a special girl day and Chase planning a whole day for you (his gf) and being confused.

The minute you get to school, you can see the couples being extra and you think it's funny/slightly annoying that the world doesn't recongize that this is a day for the girlies. You immediately give Bree her coffee order and wish her a "Happy National Girlfriend Day." At first she thinks your mocking her but then you tell her that the day was meant for female friends not romantic gfs. You tell her that you planned a whole day together and you agree to spend the day laughing at the couples instead of Bree moping. You guys hang out for the rest of the morning and don't see the guys till later in the day.

Chase gives you your favorite flower and a very affectionate hello, and tells you he's been looking for you all day. He's being extra affectionate but he never explicitly says "Happy National GF Day." You either don't catch on or you just want to mess with him. By the end of the day Chase is a little annoyed that more of your attention has been going to Bree. When it's time to go home, Chase overhears you tell Bree "I'm going to home to change but I'll see you at your place!" When you say bye to Chase, you do the whole gf thing but you don't mention seeing him later.

You dress up all cute for you and Bree to take a walk down a street full of cute stores, grab a nice dinner, and go to a fair/festival. When you get to the house, Chase answers the door and is floored by how good you look. He brings you in, tells you how gorgeous you are, and smothers you in attention. After you say hi (and return his affections ofc) you call out for Bree. This is Chase's last straw because why is his gf spending more time with his sister than him on national gf day. you laugh and ask him if he knows who created the day or what it's really about.

"Hey Chase, honey, smartest man in the world, do you know what today is actually about?" and he's like "...yes that's why I brought you a flower, and Adam helped me make an actual bouquet, and I already asked Mr. Davenport if I could take the car and have a later curfew tonight?" So you educate him and he's like "...oh well everyone was talking about doing special stuff for their gfs" but he looks so cute and he did plan the whole day, "well how about tomorrow, we go spend all saturday together instead of just a nice evening☺️" and he gives you a pouty little "fine 😔"

Bree finally comes out and you guys start heading out. You say a quick bye to Chase but he quickly gets off the couch, "Can't I at least get a goodbye kiss?" But Bree goes "Nope," and starts pulling you outside. "Sorry babe, she was my friend before you were my boyfriend!"

This is crazy long and probably full of grammatical errors but I like leaving my thoughts where I know that someone who is stil active in the fandom will actually see them.

-🎀

i got nothing to add to this one lol

[bamber344]

Cracks In The Façade

prev

masterlist

posting this now because i can't be F'ed waiting till tomorrow morning tbh...

We've got a Steve and Vivienne double POV special! it was my first time inside both of their heads so I hope I've done them justice!

CWs: references to previous torture (beating, cutting), gun whump, minor medical whump, caretaker who is just doing her best fr fr, references to past gaslighting, living weapon whumpee

enjoy!

Cracks in the Façade

Detective Steve Matthews sighed, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling it away from his chest to allow some airflow. It was a blisteringly hot day, and he’d rather be anywhere other than where he was right at that moment; standing in the sun outside of a convenience store that just got held up. The perp didn’t get very far, thankfully. Seven had been patrolling nearby and took the man down before he could make it across the street. Now Steve was just here to take statements and collect evidence in the summer heat. Or, more like he was there to supervise the beat cops as they did all of those things under the direction of another detective while he just stood around sweating. As if Captain de Vygon would actually let him lead his own investigation.

At least he didn’t have it as bad as Seven did, though. It couldn’t have been cool in that intimidating black armour, and he knew that the captain was breathing down her neck just as hard as his – probably even harder. Ever since those SWAT officers were killed a week ago, Seven had been moving differently; almost gingerly, as though she was hurt, or so Steve had noticed in their few encounters. It rose warning flags in the back of his mind. Something just wasn’t right about that whole situation. Steve didn’t trust de Vygon’s integrity at the best of times; he wouldn’t put it past him to beat his volunteer superhero for a mistake, especially one so extreme. The real question was, why would Seven put up with it? It just didn’t sit right.

Well, what was he going to do about it, anyway? He wasn’t a hero. He was barely a cop. Seven was an adult woman and a borderline supersoldier. He’d seen her flip a grown man over her tiny 5’3” frame and break his arm with ease. If she had a problem with how things were going behind the scenes, she could get herself out of it. The Union would take her in no questions asked if she wanted. It was probably just in his head.

Right now, the woman was standing some distance away, seemingly spacing out while staring through the window at the mannequins on display in a woman’s clothing boutique. She seemed to have relaxed some now that she wasn’t on active duty, antsily twiddling her fingers together as she examined the clothes. Steve walked over to her. He had nothing better to do, after all.

“Thinking about buying something?” he asked.

Seven jumped a little before turning to him. “S-sorry?”

“Are you thinking about buying something from here? You seem pretty fascinated by what they got on display.”

Seven looked at him, and then back to the mannequins, wringing her hands nervously. “Um, I don’t have any money. I was just… looking.”

No money? That was odd. Though, perhaps she just meant she didn’t have any on her. It didn’t look like her armour had pockets, to be fair.

Steve shrugged. “Still, you work hard. You should treat yourself. Why not come back after your shift is done?”

Seven stared at him, and though he couldn’t see her face, he could sense the confusion in her body language. She looked back and forth between him and the boutique a few times. “Uh… O-okay…”

The more Steve interacted with her outside of combat scenarios or de Vygon’s presence, the more he felt like there was something seriously weird going on. Her apparent personality just didn’t match the front she put up whenever she was working. If he had to guess, he’d say she almost felt like… like a sheltered kid or something. Where the hell did de Vygon find this girl?

A memory flashed through his head, but he shook it off. He’d heard it enough from the precinct counsellor; it was just a hallucination induced by stress and a lack of sleep, nothing more.

The awkward silence stretched on. Steve sighed. “Well, whatever. Do what you want. I’m gonna head back to the scene; I think the boys are almost done with the evidence.”

He turned and started walking away, hearing Seven’s footsteps following along behind him. He approached her because she’d looked a little lonely, standing there staring at the store like a puppy with a toy it couldn’t have, but now he felt bad about interrupting her privacy and ruining her quiet moment.

They got back to the scene. Steve busied himself catching up on the evidence that had been logged, while Seven milled around, as she was wont to do at crime scenes. A few days after her first appearance, a couple of fleeing perps returned to a scene that she’d already left and ruined some evidence before the police could stop them. Ever since then, she’d made a habit of sticking around to ensure everything went smoothly, unless there was another pressing issue that required her attention.

It was a few minutes later that things went awry. A loud crack echoed across the street and Seven flew backwards. All of the officers dove for cover and Steve was no exception; throwing his car door open and hiding behind it. There was a shooter, and if they had managed to knock Seven off her feet, they had to be packing some serious heat.

Steve glanced around. Seven was on the floor, but she was still moving. According to de Vygon, that armour of hers was bullet-proof. He hoped for her sake that was correct. She lifted her head, trying to get up, but another shot ripped through the air and sparks flew from Seven’s helmet as she was forced straight back to the ground.

Steve drew his pistol, taking a deep breath. He peeked through the window of the open car door, looking up at the roof of the opposite building. The sky was blindingly bright, but he could just about make out a figure perched on the edge. Light glinted from the scope of the sniper rifle in their hands.

One of the other officers returned fire and the figure startled, backing up and taking their rifle with them. A huge pair of dark wings unfurled from their back and flapped, lifting them from the roof with improbable speed. Steve took aim and fired a few shots, but none of them met their mark. The figure was too fast, ducking and weaving through the air until they were gone from sight.

“Seven, are you alright?!” Steve asked, jumping out of his hiding spot to check on her.

Seven groaned, lifting her head again. The glass on the front of her visor was cracked, but it didn’t look like the bullet had gone through. Most likely, it ricocheted off the edge. He couldn’t tell where the first shot had impacted, but the woman didn’t seem that much worse for wear, if a little winded. “Y-yeah… I’m okay.”

“Come on, we might still be able to see them from the roof!”

Steve turned to the other officers. “Put out an APB! We’re looking for someone with huge black wings and a sniper rifle! They won’t be able to hide!”

The authority in his voice surprised even him, but it spurred the officers into action, scrambling to communicate with dispatch to organise a manhunt. With that out of the way, he turned back to the building the shooter was perched on, running towards it. Seven was back on her feet by now, right behind him.

She cleared the building in a single jump, disappearing over the edge of the roof. Steve wasn’t so blessed with augmented abilities, and as such had to painstakingly climb his way up the fire escape, activating muscles he probably hadn’t used in years. He was definitely going to be sore by tomorrow morning.

Finally, panting and gasping from exertion, he reached the roof, but it was too late. The winged person was nowhere to be seen. It was just their luck that their suspect would be able to fly. Still, they’d find them in time. There was no way someone with such an obvious power could hide themselves for long.

Seven was looking at the floor, where the shooter had been perched. Scattered around the area were a dozen long black feathers, no doubt left by their wings. Once again, Steve was hit by a memory he’d been trying to forget, of a night roughly eighteen months ago, where he’d seen an impossible sight that subsequently nose-dived his career.

~~~

It was a little past one in the morning on a cold winter’s night, and Steve Matthews was returning to precinct 23 to pick up some case files he needed to look over. It had been a long week, and exhaustion was clawing at him like a feral cat, trying to drag him to bed, but there was still work to be done. He promised himself that once he got back to his apartment, he would sleep and go over the files in the morning, and that assurance gave him the strength needed to keep going for these last few hours.

It was when he was just about to enter the precinct that it happened. The glass door flew open and Steve froze as he came face to face with the two girls running out. They froze in turn, staring him down. In the dim light from the street lamp, Steve could just about make out their appearances, and what he saw shook him to his core.

One girl was older; clearly an adult, and the other was probably in her early teens, if Steve had to guess. They were both dressed in identical black thermals and had shaved heads. The older one had a large pair of wings sprouting from her back, the feathers puffing up in anticipation. Both girls had the exact same face; one that should’ve belonged to a dead woman. The younger one’s eyes held a cocktail of fear, sorrow, and pain. In her older sister, there was only rage.

A small twitch of her feathers was all the warning he got before the older one was wrapping her arms around the teen, beating her wings against the cold air and disappearing into the dark sky, leaving Steve alone to contemplate the impossible thing he’d just witnessed.

~~~

Steve remembered how hard Captain de Vygon had tried to convince him what he’d seen wasn’t real. He remembered all of the counselling sessions he’d been forced to go to, all the cases he’d been forced to drop because of his supposed ‘unstable mental state.’ According to de Vygon, of course it had been a hallucination! Why else would both girls have had the face of a dead superhero? Rosalyn Garcia-Holmes was one of the most famous superheroes Tombguard had ever seen, and Steve had even met her a handful of times before her death thanks to his niece. It made sense that his brain would pick out her face to put on the actors in its mysterious play. It was all just in his head. Steve had even started to believe it himself. Now, however…

Steve looked over at Seven. She came from precinct 23, just like those two mystery girls. What face hid underneath that visor of hers? Why was everything about her so weird? Just what exactly was de Vygon doing underneath the precinct?

Seven was still staring at those feathers. A thought occurred to him; a pit opening in his stomach. If those girls had all come from the same place, there was every possibility that they knew each other. And now, one of them had just shot Seven with clear intent to kill. Regardless of what else was going on behind the scenes, that had to sting.

“Did… Did you know who that was?” he asked carefully.

Seven hesitated, but ultimately shook her head. “N-no. Captain de Vygon has spoken of a girl with wings before, but I don’t know who she is.”

Her voice was slurring a little. Steve frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I-”

—

“Did you hear that?” Brianna asked, craning her head around despite the fact that she wouldn’t be able to see anything, anyway.

“Hear what?” Viv replied. They were sitting together on a rooftop, enjoying a lunch break from their patrol. Not that there was really much to be patrolling for, especially not for a support hero and rescue hero, but it was a good excuse for both of them to get out of studying for a while, and enjoy the warm summer’s day. That reminded Vivienne that Maddie was probably about due to be dragged out of the house again, as well. Rosie would kill her if she let her wife rot inside all summer, and they hadn’t really done anything since Rosie’s death anniversary aside from hang out and play video games together.

Brea frowned. “Sounded like gunshots. Over in that direction.” She nodded her head down the street, her shoulder-length braids swishing back and forth with the movement.

“Should we go check it out?”

Brea shrugged. “If you wanna. I’m not too keen to get caught up in a fight or something, though.”

“We’ll just have a look from a distance,” Viv said. “If it’s something we can help with, maybe we can step in, but we’ll see.”

“Alrighty then, sounds good.”

The two of them stood up and Viv took Brianna’s hand. In an instant, the scenery changed and they were about two kilometres down the street. Brea shuddered - she still wasn’t very used to teleportation - as Viv looked around. There were a few police cars parked a ways away, and she could just about make out two people on a rooftop nearby.

“So?” Brea asked. “Anything interesting?”

Vivienne squinted. “A couple of cop cars, and… I think that’s my uncle? And that new hero that works with the police, too. They’re on a roof. Doesn’t look like anything dangerous is going on anymore.”

“Y’know, I’ve been wondering what that new hero’s deal is. I’ve heard a lot of weird rumours on the radio. What’s her name again? Seven?”

“Yeah. Maddie and I met her a couple weeks ago. We didn’t really get to chat though, because de Vygon showed up and swooped her away. Wanna see if we can say hi?”

“Might as well. Not like we’ve got much better to do. Just… warn me before we teleport next time, please? I know I can’t actually see that we’ve moved, but something about the way the air pressure pops just throws me off.”

“Sure, sorry about that.” She took Brianna’s hand again. “You ready?”

Brea took a deep breath and nodded. Vivienne focused on the empty space a few feet away from her uncle. She did a countdown for Brea’s benefit and as soon as she reached zero, Viv flipped the switch in her brain and the space that she was focusing on appeared under her feet. She turned her good cheer up to eleven and announced herself to the two police officers.

“Hey guys! What’s-”

Seven whipped around and a wave of darkness spilled from the seams in her armour, barrelling towards the two of them. Viv stumbled backwards, waving her hands.

“Wait, wait! Friendly!”

The wall of shadow stopped inches from her face, dissipating into the air. Seven didn’t drop her combat stance though, watching them through her visor like a hawk. Speaking of which, her visor looked seriously messed up. The opaque glass was spiderwebbed with cracks, coalescing at a point near her temple. Also, it sort of looked like there was a hole in her armour, right above her heart. What the heck happened here?

“I-it’s just me! You know, Vivienne? We met one time? Oh yeah, and this is Brianna, she’s my friend. Hi, uncle Steve!”

“Yo,” Brea said.

Steve sighed. “Hello Vivienne. This is a crime scene, you can’t be here.”

They must have startled Seven something fierce. Her whole body was shaking. Viv frowned, ignoring her uncle.

“Are you okay? You don’t look well.”

The woman finally dropped the combat stance, putting a hand on her chest. “D-detective… I… I think the first shot pierced my armour…”

Steve whirled around. “What?! You said you were okay!”

“I- I thought… The shock must’ve… It… It hurts.” Her voice cracked into something almost like a sob at the end. Vivienne’s gut wrenched.

“Uncle! There’s a first-aid kit in your car, right?”

Steve blinked, taken aback. “Y-yes, but-”

“Brea, get her to lay down. I’ll be back soon!”

“You got it,” Brea replied.

Viv turned to Seven. “You can trust us, alright? I know first-aid; I’m studying to be a nurse right now. It’s going to be okay. We’re gonna fix you right up. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Seven nodded shakily. “O-okay…”

Vivienne jumped into action, grabbing her uncle’s wrist and teleporting him down to where the police cars were milling. He barked some orders at the other officers as they made their way to his car, relaying the situation and telling them to inform Captain de Vygon while Viv opened the trunk and grabbed the first-aid kit. She wasted no time teleporting them back to the roof-top, pleased to find Seven already lying on her back. Brea was holding her hand, speaking softly to her.

“Do you want to take your helmet off?” she asked. “You might be able to breathe a little easier without it.”

Seven shook her head. “Not allowed to let anyone see my face…”

“Well, I’m blind, so I won’t be able to see it anyway. If you’re more comfortable with it on, that’s fine.”

Seven reached a hand up, and for a moment Viv thought that she would get to see the face under the mask, but all she removed was her mouthpiece. Her lips were chapped and dry, and the surrounding skin was discoloured with fading bruises. Her bottom lip looked like it had been split recently. She and Steve shared a look. Clearly, he was thinking similar thoughts.

If Seven never took her helmet off when she was out, where had she taken those hits?

Viv tried to ignore it. That wasn’t important right now. She knelt down at Seven’s side, examining her abdomen.

“We’re gonna have to remove your chestplate to get a good look, Seven,” she explained. “Don’t worry, help is on the way. We’re just gonna make sure you’re as well as you can be until they get here.”

“Latches ‘re under the armpits,” Seven replied, slurring slightly. Without the electronics in the mask obscuring it, her voice was soft. It had a rough sort of cadence that reminded Viv a little bit of Rosie, only without the hispanic accent.

Viv followed her instructions, finding the latches and pulling the chestplate off. If the state of what little she could see of Seven’s face had shocked her, then she definitely wasn’t prepared for the state of her bare torso. She sucked in a breath, and heard her uncle curse quietly.

Below her armour, Seven was wearing nothing but a sports bra, leaving very little to the imagination and filling Vivienne with some very conflicted emotions. On one hand, Seven was fucking sculpted. She looked like a goddamn greek statue, and the sight of those sweaty planes of muscled, tanned skin were leaving Viv a little breathless. On the other hand, it looked like someone had used her abdomen as a punching bag, leaving a tapestry of colourful bruising across every inch of aforementioned skin. What was even more concerning than that, however, were the two sloppily stitched-up cuts intersecting each other on the upper-left side of her belly. They were too clean to be anything other than intentionally made, and clearly the patch-up was far from a professional job. Vivienne didn’t know what to think about any of this, but it was giving her a distinctly bad feeling.

She pushed all of those thoughts down. Now wasn’t the time. Seven was her patient, and right now all that mattered was finding and assessing the damage from the bullet she was presumably shot with. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to find at all. A large patch of blood had saturated the cotton of her bra right above her sternum, surrounding a very obvious hole.

The fact that she was still conscious and alive meant that the bullet had most likely been slowed down enough by her armour to be stopped by her sternum, but Viv doubted that the bone remained entirely intact in the process. It was a marvel that she was still able to move about in the way she had. Either Seven was very used to pain, or she was still bursting at the seams with adrenaline. Based on the state of her body, it was probably a mix of both. The only certainty was that she needed a hospital. Until professionals arrived, Viv and Brea would just have to do their best for her.

Step one was to find the bullet. If it was deeply embedded in the bone, there wouldn’t be anything they could do for her now aside from slowing the bleeding, but they might be able to remove it themselves if it just impacted the surface. There weren’t any major blood vessels in that area, so they could probably do most of the patch-up work on site.

“Brea, can you check how deep the bullet is?” Viv asked.

Brianna nodded, moving her hand closer to Seven’s chest. Two of her fingers disappeared, turning into thin wisps of smoke that then drifted daintily down onto Seven’s body. The smoke wafted around searchingly until it found the hole, sinking into it and examining the interior painlessly.

“It seems like it’s just below the surface of her skin. Doesn’t feel like it’s fragmented or anything. We shouldn’t have any problems removing it here.”

“Cool,” Viv replied, pulling on some gloves from the first-aid kit and searching for a pair of tweezers.

“Don’t worry,” Seven muttered. “I’ve got it.”

Vivienne was about to protest when blackness began to seep across Seven’s skin from the shadowed edges of her armour. It travelled like a liquid, remaining flush with her body as it slipped under her bra and amassed in the bullet hole. Seven tensed up, balling her fists and clenching her teeth, clearly trying to power through the pain of whatever she was doing. Viv was a little too distracted by the mouth-watering sight of her tensed abs to question it. After a few seconds, Seven relaxed, her body deflating with a sigh as a flattened, gore-covered bullet rose from the hole, lifted by a pillar of shadow, before being discarded and rolling away down the side of her chest, leaving a trail of red on the cotton in its wake.

Viv blinked. “Where the hell did you learn how to do that?”

“‘s not the first time I’ve had to pull shrapnel out of myself,” Seven replied.

Well then. Just another thing to file away under the ‘weird and concerning things about this new superhero’ tab in her brain.

Vivienne took a second to get her brain back in order. This next part was important.

“Alright, well… Are you okay with me lifting your bra so we can patch up the wound?”

Seven waved a hand that flopped limply back to the ground. That wasn’t a great sign. “Go right ahead.”

Viv took a breath and ripped the metaphorical band-aid off, lifting the garment and looking only at the bloody wound on her chest, refusing to let her eyes drift anywhere else. Time to do her thing.

“I know I said we’d do our best for you here, but you should really go to a hospital just to be safe. The risk of infection here is pretty high,” Vivienne explained as she gently rubbed the wound down with an iodine wipe. Brea kept hold of Seven’s hand, whispering comforting nothings to her to distract her focus away from the pain Viv was no-doubt causing.

Seven shook her head. “N… No hospital. Not allowed.”

Oh boy. It just got worse and worse with this one, didn’t it?

“Do you at least have some sort of medical facility you can go to?”

Seven nodded, so at least that was one less thing for Vivienne to lose sleep about. She pulled out a bandage and placed it over the wound, deciding it was safer not to stitch it up here in case she missed anything that the actual doctors would need access to treat. With that done, she pulled Seven’s bra back down into its place.

“Well, that’s about all I can do for that right now. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Viv asked.

Seven let out what was probably supposed to be a considering hum, but it ended up sounding more like a groan. “Mm, I dunno… Thanks for your help, though. You guys’re nice. And you’re really pretty, too.”

Brianna barked out a laugh as Viv’s insides got caught in a vice. “O-oh. Um, thank you.” She could feel her face burning with an obvious blush. Stupid redhead genes. 

“What about me?” Brea asked, smirking.

“Yah, I meant you, too,” Seven clarified. Her voice was slurring a lot now. “I really like your… your face. ‘s nice.”

Brea was trying to act cool, but Viv could still see her dark complexion deepening from the blush on her cheeks, too. 

Steve - who had walked away once Viv removed Seven’s bra for the sake of her modesty - made his way back over to them. “Seven, do you have a concussion? You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Oh, uh… Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Viv groaned. “Of course you do. How do you even know?”

“My visor can check for it… That bullet hit me in the head pretty hard, so the first thing I did was get it to check.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Steve asked.

“A lil’ bump‘s no reason to stop working.”

“We should take your helmet off to check. It might be pretty serious,” Viv said.

Seven shook her head again. “Not allowed.”

“Seven, I’m not kidding! You could be in real danger and we’ve had no idea this whole time!”

Steve sighed. “It’s fine, Vivienne. You’ve done good. Her medical team will take care of the rest. Speaking of which…” he trailed off, glancing over the edge of the building. “Looks like the cavalry’s here.”

Everything moved quickly from thereon. A group of people ascended up the fire escape with a stretcher and carefully laid Seven out on top of it. They were about to make the painstaking journey down when Viv just offered to teleport them. It would be dangerous taking her down the fire escape, and the quicker Seven got some proper medical attention for her head, the better. It wasn’t long before she was bundled into the armoured van and driven away to wherever her supposed ‘medical centre’ was, leaving Vivienne, Brianna, and Steve alone on the roof.

“Yeesh,” Brianna said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. “That girl has issues.”

Steve shook his head. “Everything about her is just… giving me a bad feeling.”

“I’ll say,” Viv replied. “Did you see the state of her torso? Those bruises were awful! Not to mention the cuts…”

“I’d suspected something like that. The way she’s been moving recently, it was obvious that she was in pain. And I’d bet good money that Andreas de Vygon had something to do with it. He practically has her on a leash.”

The name made Vivienne’s blood boil. That man was truly scum. He’d tormented the Union for years, harassing and slandering her and her friends. Why any superhero would choose to join him was beyond her. That being said, the more she learned about the mysterious woman, the more it seemed like it might not have been a choice after all. 

“There’s gotta be something we can do, right?” Brea asked, voicing Viv’s thoughts. “If de Vygon’s mistreating her, surely there’s someone we can tell about it to get her out of his hands?”

“He would just cover it up,” Steve said. He let out a breath, rubbing his face with weary exhaustion. “Look, the only thing I know for sure is that that woman is strong enough to take down the entire precinct if she wanted. If she had a problem with how she was being treated, she could get herself out of it. De Vygon might have influence, but he’s just a normal man when it comes to power. Seven could easily kill him if he angered her. We’re probably just looking too much into it. Those injuries could easily just be from combat training or something.”

Vivienne sighed, looking out over the city in the direction Seven’s medical team had left in. “I hope you’re right, uncle. I really, really do.”

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue

Even in the midst of a concussion and a broken sternum, Jordyn can't help but be a hopeless lesbian

Viv didn't really get as much introspection into her character as I would've liked but that's just because she was so focused on Jordyn that there was no time for that. Chapter was ballooning a lot as is. I'm sure she'll get more later :)

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought! Comments and reblogs very appreciated :)

[rqsser]

for yet another au created by @pinksiames and i…

—

“Please, Bucky?” Gale begs from where he sits on his bed. John is sat on the floor opposite to him, leaning against his wardrobe with a book that definitely is not reading.

Gale is asking his boyfriend to go out with him to do whatever, run any errands that a seventeen year old might have or go and play laser tag. Typical teenage activities. He just needs to get out of the house; he hates sitting in his room and doing nothing.

See, John doesn’t exactly enjoy being in public places where he’ll be spoken to by strangers. Even if Gale doesn’t necessarily talk to anyone but John, it’s not his favourite thing to do. Curt invites Gale out to a party, and then John is pleaded to go with him. It’s not as if Gale has no other friends, he just really prefers his boyfriend to anyone else. Which is mainly the reason John agrees to go, but even that’s rare.

Right now, Gale is in an old, beaten tank top and plaid pyjama pants. He looks rather childish with his bare feet swinging in the air and his hair sticking up every which way. His habit of staying out till late hours and dancing wildly shows with the muscular curves of his biceps. His eye makeup is smeared down his cheeks and mostly gone from bordering his eyes, he looks like he just woke up. John thinks that his heart may explode.

He himself arrived at Gale’s house when he was still asleep. For once, the blonde hadn’t tired himself out at someone’s party and stayed in for the night. John knows because the two of them were calling all night. So he’s dressed, partially. He’s also in pyjama pants, but is wearing Gale’s hoodie that he’d left at John’s last time he was over. It fit him quite well by some miracle.

“I am not going out with you, Gale,” John repeats for what feels like the hundredth time. “I’ll go out and have a nice dinner, sure, but not to some stupid party that you won’t remember come tomorrow morning.”

Gale whines and lets his head fall back, like a child. “But it’s more fun when you’re there! What if some guy hits on me and I have no proof of boyfriend?” Gale challenges him, enticing John with the chance of flaunting his Gale.

John glares at him. It’s a low blow to feed into his issues with jealousy and possession.

“Gale…” John starts, but Gale is already up off of his bed and rummaging through the pile of clothes he has on his desk chair. Of course he won’t take no for an answer, especially on the weekend when he doesn’t have to worry about waking up for school.

He thinks that it’s on purpose, when Gale finds his tightest shirt that ends barely at his hip bones. When he puts on his jeans that make his ass look amazing. John watches from the floor, coming to terms with his fate of fighting off horny teenagers who want a piece of Gale. He doesn’t blame them for wanting, though.

It’s like a ritual witnessing Gale Cleven getting ready for the day, colour matching his outfit and checking what looks good with what. John doesn’t understand fully, he just throws on the first thing he sees and at least checks to see if he looks stupid or not. Gale though, he spends minutes carefully lining black eyeliner around each beautiful eye and sometimes even puts on some lipgloss. Though that’s usually when John is promised a good night.

John stands with a groan and shucks off his pyjama pants in favour of something he left here from last time. Which happens to be an old pair of basketball shorts. He thinks he looks okay, compared to Gale he looks like shit.

“So hot,” Gale whispers in his ear as he looks at them both in his floor length mirror. John rolls his eyes and cards his fingers through his own curls.

“Says you.” He tugs on Gale’s dyed-black locks and snickers at the low noise that he gets out of it. Time to go and fight off guys who try to sneak a hand up his boyfriend’s ridiculously tight shirt.

[drabblesandimagines]

Re WIP tag game. I'm sorry, what? You have two Leon WIP fics and you're saying I have to choose one to ask about? This is too hard! 😩 A'ight..."Your Phone Buzzes Violently" sounds like an interesting intro. So let's go with that!

Oh, I have, like, five WIPs for him? Sorta ridiculous. (and Dove...!) Here's a snippet! x --

Your phone buzzes almost violently on the bedside table, startling you awake. The headache you had before you’d laid down for what might turn out to be an ill-advised nap doesn’t seem to have shifted, even with the painkillers you’d taken. In fact, it feels worse than it did, now developed into a horrible, constant throb, needling at your temples.

You weakly kick the duvet off of you, feeling flush – should have got changed into your pjyamas rather than getting in bed fully dressed - and reach out blindly for your phone, holding it above your face to squint at the screen to decipher what it was so determined to tell you.

Two new messages from Leon.

You'll forgive it.

"Finally on my way home, sweetheart. Wrapped up yesterday but wouldn't do the debrief till this morning. ETA - 235 minutes."

You would’ve rolled your eyes at the acronym if it wasn’t already hard enough to focus.

And, before you ask, bit bruised. Don’t recommend a prison tour…! All good otherwise x

Leon had set out on an assignment the previous weekend and you hadn’t heard much from him besides one text message a day, a sentence of more than three words if you were particularly lucky, often sweet words... "All good." "Miss you, sweetheart." "I love you." "Recycling tomorrow." ..or reminders about something you'd forget to do completely if he wasn't around. In fact, that’s the way it had always been if he was on what you’d call 'active duty', not just him in a stuffy suit up DC way, trailing behind the President. It's not like you’d got used to not hearing much from him, just that it was expected.

There was always that little lump in your throat when he was away, of course there was, that this would be the time you wouldn't hear from him at all and there'd just be a knock on the door, agents dressed in mourning suits. Besides, you’d rather his focus was on coming back to you in one piece than trying to compose an update whilst shielding from bullets or something horrifying.

-- Just a lil' taste! x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

[whispering-ways]

•♡✷ matched hearts (pt. 1) ✷♡•

✷ summary: shinsou downloads a dating app and starts talking to you

✷ pairing: hitoshi shinsou x reader

✷ tags: no warnings, just fluff!

✷ notes: slanted texts indicate actual text messages (purple is shinsou, white is reader) :)

Shinsou wasn’t a big fan of dating apps. He wasn’t even a big fan of talking to the people around him nevertheless new people. It’s not that he didn’t like people, he liked his friends of course, it was just hard to maintain a conversation with people is all.

But seeing all the couples on campus did honestly make him feel a bit lonely, leading him to download Hinge. He honestly never took it seriously; it was fun to swipe through profiles but he never took the time to have any sort of deep conversation with anyone. That is until he saw your profile.

He’d seen you around UA a couple of times and thought you were pretty, but Hinge let him see you in a whole new light. Apparently, you really liked crocheting, which he found interesting because he always wanted to learn how to do it, but never quite found the time to actually learn. You were a huge movie buff which was yet another plus since he was too. You also seemed to be really smart; UA didn’t just choose any old student to be part of the Department of Support after all. Something about you just carried this bright aura that pulled him in. Soon enough he was liking your profile and sending you his best pickup line in hopes of talking to you more.

You’d just gotten home from a long day of tinkering with a new gadget you’d been working on recently when you saw that someone liked your Hinge profile. At first, you were going to ignore the notification; you were way too tired. But even after you took a shower, ate dinner, and took a melatonin gummy, it seemed like you’d never be able to fall asleep. So you opened up Hinge, thinking that if you were going to be up, you might as well look through some profiles.

That’s when you saw that Shinsou liked your profile. You didn’t know him too well, but you had seen him pop into the support department a couple of times. You definitely thought he was cute, but you’d never really gotten a chance to talk to him since he mostly just talked to Mei when he needed repairs. But his pick-up line?

“‘Is your name yarn? Because you’ve got me all tangled up in your stitches’?” you said with a laugh. It was for sure one of the cheesier pick-up lines you’d been told, but still pretty sweet. You thought about it for a second and then decided to reply. I mean it’s not like you were falling asleep anytime soon anyways.

Lol that’s really cheesy, but you’re in luck bc cheesy pick-up lines are my fav :)

After a few minutes, you thought you wouldn’t hear a reply back till tomorrow morning so you started scrolling through Instagram. But after looking through a couple of posts, you saw that Shinsou sent you a reply back.

Haha, well I’m glad you like it. How has your day been?

Its been a little tiring tbh, I’ve been working on this one gadget for who knows how long and I just can’t seem to get it to do what I want it to do lol. How’s yours been?

This time the reply was instantaneous.

Tiring as well. I’ve been doing nothing but training all day today. What sort of gadget are you making?

That surprised you; most people thought making gadgets was boring and didn’t want to know too much about it. But as you gave him more details about what you were building, he seemed genuinely interested. It was refreshing, to say the least. That question lead you both into talking about your careers and the passion he had to be a hero was evident. It was inspiring to see how much he cared about quirks that were looked down on in society. To you, it was certainly admirable and made you want to work harder in your own career.

Shinsou thought your dedication to the support department was amazing. It was good to talk to someone who was equally as ambitious as he was, but not actively trying to be competitive, which was a big issue between students in the hero industry. As the night carried on, the both of you kept texting about anything and everything.

There was just something so comforting and natural when talking to you. It was just simple. Before you two knew it, it was 4 am and you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. You’d felt yourself drifting off a couple of hours ago, but the conversation was just too good for you to end it then. You and Shinsou said goodnight and you hoped that this wasn’t the end of the both of you talking.

When you woke up the next morning after talking to him, you were greeted with a text from Shinsou which immediately put a smile on your face.

Good morning. I hope you have a nice and hopefully less tiring day :)

It was simple, but sweet and lead you both to continue talking throughout the rest of the day. It had been now about three days since your initial conversation and you both had been texting the entire time. Getting texts from Shinsou had now become one of the most delightful parts of the day. Whenever you saw a notification from him, you felt a wave of giddiness flood through you.

Shinsou, although he didn’t want to admit it, also found himself grinning at your daily texts. Every time he heard the chime of his notifications, he secretly hoped it was you texting him back. And while he knew he shouldn’t be so quick to answer, he couldn’t help texting you back instantaneously. You were one of the only people he enjoyed talking to after all.

It took a lot of courage out of him, but after an hour of hyping himself up and drafting out the text in his mind, Shinsou finally asked you out on a date.

Would you happen to be free this weekend? I’ve really enjoyed talking to you and I’d like to take you out on a date if that’s okay with you.

When you saw that text, you squealed and threw your phone on your bed in excitement. After a moment, you realized that you’d actually need to settle yourself and reply to him.

I’d love that! Are you free on Saturday around 11am?

Shinsou’s nerves instantly settled; he was absolutely elated reading your last text. He took a minute or two to think of some places he thought you’d enjoy and then sent his reply.

Yeah, that works for me :) there’s a cat cafe nearby UA, would you like to go there?

That sounds lovely! I love cats, so thats acc perfect!

Great! I’m a big cat fan myself. I guess its a date then ♡

Soon after you two had set up your date, you both said your goodnights. But you were far too excited to fall asleep any time soon. You were already laying in bed, planning your outfit, and thinking about how you wanted to do your makeup even though the date was two days away

. A couple of blocks away, Shinsou was thinking about the date too. The more he'd talked to you, the more he truly felt this connection with you. It just felt like kismet. All he was hoping for now is that you weren't any different in person.

You spent most of the night thinking of different scenarios of how you thought the date would go in hopes of calming you down enough to fall asleep. However, it did the exact opposite, the lovely thoughts keeping you awake. After a while though (and with the help of a melatonin gummy), you were able to fall asleep and you dreamt of your date the whole night.

[edutainer2022]

I'm in a very complicated (non)relationship with faith and religion. Loss, grief, and war do a number on that. And I'm in a weird mood (also insanely busy). I would assume the Tracies too have a complicated (and different for each) relationship with faith and spirituality, in their line of work. It's Easter time. So here's a little Earth and Sky piece centered around that time of the year, memories, fears, and love, of course. All blatant parallels with religious symbolism are all on my agnostic self, I mean no disrespect whatsoever!

EASTER

Christmas was easy. Approachable. Christmas was always about family and snuggling, comfy pijamas and Lord of the Rings rewatch maraphons, and gifts for everyone, cinnamon, cocoa, decorations and garlands. Christmas was manageable even after Mom. Then after Dad. Never the same, but manageable.

Easter was weird... In their childhood Easter was always a whirl of colors and activities - egg die on every surface besides the eggshells, egg hunts on the farm and ranch, chocolate prizes, bright baskets, and laughter. And Mom. Always Mom at the center of it all, orchestrating and directing the colorful chaos. Mom told them stories. An Irish Catholic, Mom made a point to go to mass on Easter morning, although she didn't insist they go with. They usually did, dressed in Sunday best, even Gordie on his best behavior. There would be waffles and ice-cream on the way back from the church, and sprinkles in John's hair. With Mom gone the colors muted. The whirlwind stopped. The spring lost its promise. It felt almost a blasphemy to celebrate a resurrection after a loss they suffered. Scott tried to uphold the egghunts for Gordie, who barely remembered his with Mom, and for Allie, who didn't, but it fell flat.

Dad never much discussed spirituality with them. An astronaut, a war veteran, a widower, he held certain cards close to his soul. They grew up with boundless belief in scientific knowledge and answers to be pursued by scientific methods. If there were no answers this side of known universe, that meant the science was yet to catch up. They all helped with catching up a lot. As much as they grew up with boundless belief in each other (that and an elaborate array of superstitions, given their respective specializations). And a firm conviction Mom was an angel up in heaven, watching over them. It all made sense when a brother's comms were silent in the danger zone or a brother's hand was limp and cold over hospital covers. Unbeknowest to them, through the endless night alone in outer space, their father always had but one prayer: "Look after them, my love! Keep them all safe as I can't!"

In a rare arrangement of circumstances, they were all at the farm for Easter weekend, for a change. Some issues needed to be dealt with the estate. And it was an unspoken opportunity to visit Mom's grave. (And Dad's headstone over an empty casket, right next to her). Virgil found Scott at the backporch, seated on the stairs overlooking the meadow. Alone. As he suspected he would. Virgil would have been happy to just plop down and sit it out with biggest brother shoulder to shoulder till dusk, giving him room to just be and a friendly ear, should he want one. Scott had been in a mood all day, maybe all week. So much so even John was worried, who didn't get to observe Scott in his natural brooding state up close often. Biggest brother was obviously not forthcoming with any conversation starters. Virgil took his chances and nudged a flannel clad shoulder to his right. In their childhood home Scott always dug out old, broken in flannel, albeit in blue.

"I think about going to Mom's church tomorrow morning. You wanna come with?"

It was a multi-layered invitation and Virgil knew it. It would imply quality time away from the general mayhem for just the two of them, a chance to gather one's thoughts and to connect to Mom in a way that was special to her, even a chance to bring home a decent breakfast from the diner in the town, across the church. They would then all pack up in two cars, make a trip to the cemetery, pay their respects, and have an Easter dinner all together as a family. Virgil nudged his brother's shoulder again, looking up with hope. Scott's gaze was still far away.

"You wanna go to Easter mass?"

Virgil felt self-conscious suddenly. He loved the music and the spirit of celebration. Generally loved the idea of connecting to something bigger. Connecting to Mom. He tried another angle.

"You don't believe?"

Mom did - left unspoken over the evening meadow. Scott hummed at that, blue eyes finally landing on his brother. The sadness there left Virgil breathless.

"What? Whether a guy could resurrect in three days? I don't honestly know if I believe that, Virg. But I do believe one could die for all of himanity."

Dad did - another silent echo over the meadow.

That, right there, was Virgil's deepest fear. That one day Scott would leave him behind, crying and helpless, on the sideway of his own via dolorosa, dragging a crucifix through the dust and grime of a danger zone. By Dad's unspoken command.

"Please go with me to Mom's church tomorrow! We can have waffles after."

That was blatant food bribery (aka a tried and true way to get Scott to go to concerts and art galleries). But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Scott responded with an amused chuckle and lifted an arm to invite his brother into a hug. Virgil didn't need to be asked twice. Scott's old flannel shirt smelled of old machine oil from the farm tractor, fabric softener and the inextinguishable odor of his very first, hideous aftershave from way back in basic training. Virgil closed his eyes against the steady heartbeat. "My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from him."