#but also like the side of my hair and kinda from the back jus looks like a big blond mop idk

[loverboybitch]

hair unironically stressing me out . like . what do i do with it.//.

[miokki]

✦ ONE MORE KISS!

✰ synopsis ; mass amounts of smooching them right before leaving/them leaving for something

✰ character(s) ; alhaitham x fem?!reader, ayato, lyney x gn!reader

✰ warnings: slightly suggestive on alhaitham’s?!

✰ notes: guys i kinda lost the plot/went insane with lyney—i wrote him a river for what was supposed to be 400 words. also not proof read bc im too tired for that.

❈ ALHAITHAM

you eye your figure in the bathroom mirror, your pupils locked on your lips as you applied the bold red, vibrant lipstick. every angle of your lips receives meticulous attention before you smack your lips together. the nail of your pinky finger meet the corners of your mouth, cleaning up any smudges you may have left. you step back, the soles of your shoes echoing off the bathroom tiles as you take in your makeup and outfit for the day. a smile spreads upon your lips at your proud work before you exit the bathroom.

a shiver runs through your body as you leave, the bathroom being considerably warm from your presence, a sharp contrast from the coldness of the rest of your house. nonetheless, you continue towards the other side of the house-diverting your body around the odd decorations that have suddenly appeared over the many months. your eyes shift at the many tables and stand around your house, searching for your handbag, seemingly placed carelessly from late last night.

yet, there was a particularly new scent in the air as you finally spotted it. you waft it in, the smell bringing you comfort. ah, coffee.

evidently forgetting about your bag or the need to get to work on time, you make your way to the kitchen. your eyes wandering around the corner to find your lover, in a pair of shorts and a loosely fitted, black tank top. the curves of your lips turning upwards as you watch him from afar, his fluffy grey hair in front of his eyes as he sleepily sips from his mug.

alhaitham takes several moments before he recognises your presence-finding you in the corners of his eyes as he rubbed his eyes open. his hair tucked to the sides of his face before pausing when you catch his eye.

"good morning to you, too." his croaky morning voice travels across the room.

you giggle at the display. you're quick to leave your leaning spot as you step towards your boyfriend. the sound of the mug vibrates in your ear as it's placed down on the counter in front of alhaitham, seemingly waiting for your embrace.

as you close the distance, your arms wrap themselves around your lover's neck like muscle memory. the muscles in your arms receive a satisfying stretch, in which you sigh. with the little space between you two, you stare up at him— the point of your noses closing the gap between. eyes glazing over another you gaze at his crimson-turquoise eyes as he stares back into you, his gaze softer than his usual, sharp look.

"good morning, my love," you hum, your voice resembling a honey-smooth memory.

alhaitham's hand wrapped around your lower torso, one of his hands rubbing up and down your back while the other remains at rest. his body swayed to the quiet atmosphere of your home, his eyes blinking slowly.

your boyfriend eyes open once again, this time intently staring at your attire. a sudden frown now on his thin lips.

"are you leaving for work already?"

oh!

"right. unfortunately so," you voice with a bit of reluctance in your tone-your head turning away from him before returning. "um, well i had to head off in like a minute ago, so i suppose i have some time to spare."

"habibti, what do you mean you had to leave–"

before he can finish, your lipstick-covered lips are on his. the lingering, bitter taste of coffee staining his lips as your right hand leaves his neck to cup his cheek. yet alhaitham becomes the one to deepen the kiss his tongue sliding into your mouth, your tongues twining around another. you pull away from the passionate kiss, your eyes now open as you observe your haitham's expression of longing. is that puppy eyes you see?

"okayy, maybe just one more," you say, your other hand now cupping his other cheek as you pull his face towards your lips.

your first attack is his cheekbones continuing to say 'one more' before leading to his forehead and some of his cloudy, grey hair, marking him with your lips. your lips' next destination his tall nose, both the tip and the bridge. unable to hold back, your continuous giggles fill both yours and his pair of ears as your knees bend slightly from your enjoyment. meanwhile, alhaitham is bathing in the attention you're showering him with, although the growing heat against his cheeks only seems to be getting hotter.

your tiny giggles vibrate in alhaitham’s ears and in his heart as you speak, “okay, this one is the final kiss,” you declare. your tone is playful as you pull him into a kiss—a light airy one, a peck on the lips.

after, your hands slide down from his face and to his forearms, gripping them softly as you step back. you observe alhaitham, his slouched, sleepy figure is no more-now replaced with a flustered mess of a man avoiding your gaze. the rest of his body, hot and still half-asleep from your affectionate attack. a breathy laugh escapes you, staring at the many kiss marks you've stamped onto the many angles of your face.

"i suppose, my spare minute it up, how unfortunate. i'll see you when home, lovely. miss me on you day off will, ya?"

❈ KAMISATO AYATO

the light smell of rain after a shower always seemed to bring a certain amount of comfort to your soul. the world becomes a quiet place whenever it makes its entrance, humans squirm at the thought of getting spattered on without their permission. it's a fun thought, however you are the same, you are human. as you, yourself, have waited for the rain to go on its way before going out on rather cut-short list of errands in inazuma city.

even after the length of your patience no longer has to stretch, the constant, stable sound of droplets has made you rather sleepy. perhaps, you should have listened to ayato when he suggested a indoors day together, covered in several blankets and the duvet, sharing each other's warmth through the snuggling. and while you did indulge for two hours, max, you couldn't help but twitch at unsolved problems you've yet to finish. the guilt of it eating you whole as you silently rolled off your futon placed on the floor and onto the tatami mat. your footsteps light and feather like as you dressed yourself before sitting down to watch the rain.

you sigh, pushing yourself up onto your feet and turning way from the door you've been waiting to leave since afternoon. your cold feet hit the floor quietly as you make your way around the kamisato estate and into the room you and your husband shared.

your breath hitches, your body tensing at the sight of the silky, ruffled, pastel-blue of his hair. ayato's back facing away from your view, the blankets covering everything below his shoulders. perhaps it's a guilty pleasure of yours

-staring at your husband-yet it's the rare moment you stop to savour. the vulnerability of it all. the less ambitious side of him, the man who sits and has all the time in the universe for his loved ones. you love that he shares it with you, you adore it.

you take a step forward towards ayato, only for him to stir in his sleep. the sound of a soft, throaty groans eluding him followed by a series of subtle shifts in his positions. unable to keep yourself from looking, you find him continuing to move until your lover has turned himself facing you. ayato's pale complexion staring back at you as an arm escapes the covers. he reaches out, reaching to you that no longer lies by his side.

your husband resumes his seemingly agitated fusses, his breath slows as his eyes begin to open. with ayato's head slightly lifted above he squints up at you. stares up at you. confused, his hand lazily placed in your usual spot.

your lover whines, "dear, what are you doing?" you tilted your head, playing coy, "what ever could you mean, my love?"

a sigh, an unappeased one left his pink lips as his ocean deep eyes gazed at you. his pastel-blue strands of hair falling over his eyes as ayato spoke.

"i refuse to believe that you're going out, not after noon." ayato's figure more up right as disapproves of what is to come.

you only hum, "so, what if i am? and what is it you're willing to do to get me to stay?"

you slid to your knees, your knees feeling the warmth of the futon as you close the gap between the two. two pairs of eyes now level with one another, ready for a trade.

"oh? and i thought i would be getting compensation for the time i lost without you by my side. yet, you want something in return for your absence," ayato pondered.

somehow, it has become your responsibility to be as your husband's side and fairly so. he says it as if it's your duty, as if the only person in the world who can is you. and your glad your husband has a good head on him, as he would be correct. it's yours for the taking and it will always be closed for anyone else but you. that you're sure of.

"¡ suppose, i could indulge in a little compensation," you answer reaching out to ayato's chin, taking it between your index and your thumb.

and then you bring your lips quick and close to his cheek before kiss his plumb, soft skin. you pull away, yet before ayato can get another word in you kiss his other cheek, and then under his eye. your lips littering as many kisses as you can before you run out of breath.

you take a shaky inhale, your fingers shooing the hair from your face. seeing past your hand, you watch a luminescent smile seep through ayato's metal, cold exterior. his rounded cheeks painted over with pink watercolours, his eyes forever an ocean-like blue.

"there," your chest continues to raise and lower, gradually returning to its usual pace. however, with ayato your 'usual' tends to vanish with just simple touches. "is this compensation enough for you, my lord?" irony coiled around your tone.

ayato stares into you, his eyes laced with sincerity, "i believe the rightful compromise is your return, my love." your heart throbs in secrecy.

"and i will, hun. i just have to run a few errands, my mind will not rest until i have." just thinking about the return has raised a smile on your lips.

❈ LYNEY

in the many corners of teyvat the world becomes calm during evenings and nights, more bearable for some. however, not one place inside or out can replicate a fontainian night, not to par, not with the same signature. the night is soft, a comforting feeling permanently weaving itself through the dark blue. a renowned chill waves through the air as fontaine and its people are awake for an outing. while the streets aren't busy many stroll on the many streets there are to walk on, usually shopping, dining or visiting what the opera epiclese has to offer. often a show one of its kind, and tonight; lyney the magician.

in your opinion, besides trials, lyney is your favourite stage to watch at the opera epiclese. perhaps it's personal bias as he is your lover and all, yet there is a way he glows on a stage that bewitches your senses, fries your heart and mind into a frenzy of feelings. lyney was meant for the stage, whether it be big or two seats at a dinner table, he was born to be seen. that itself is a hill you're willing to die on.

however, it seems a recurring voice in your boyfriend’s head has allowed him to believe otherwise, even for a singular night. there’s hurt in your core watching it, the uncoordinated rambles leaving his pink lips and the worry in his tone making your eyebrows furrow. the bright lamp lights illuminating both of your faces, however, the intensity of them is more than enough to make you squint. yet, among the rambles you find yourself leaning against a wooden crate backstage and staring at him, his hair unnerve and frantic from constant fingers running through and his forehead shimmering from the anxious sweat.

the magician paces back and forth between two spots, the way he's twisting around in the same spot making you believe that the floorboards may give in before he stops. his thoughts racing out loud he sputters, "—how did i do this before-i swear i wasn't as nervous as last time. do you think i've forgotten something?"

"i think you're forgetting how wonderful of a performer you are, lyney," you say with an aim to comfort him.

his pitch gains height, "but your view of me is different than everyone else! what if can't manage to entertain the audience this time?"

your eyes pause in one place as you continue to follow lyney's stressful strutting. his movements coming to a stop as he plants both the soles of his boots on the ground, his toes facing you. his lovely lilac eyes solely on you, awaiting your response, hoping for a hint of reassurance. a thing that you will gladly grant over and over again.

"sweets, you know very well that you can capture an audience, even with just your smile. you captured me with it." your answer sounded with more hurt in your heart than you would put merit for. yet, you forever wish he could see himself through your own admiring eyes.

"dear, you say it as if i've taken your heart prisoner in," he trails off, his usual, playful tone slowly returning back to the world.

you push off the box, taking several steps forward, your steps causing the planks to squeak. the wood—old and beaten, unafraid of appearances and allowed to be its withered self at the expense of being only for performers, away from the rest of the world.

"oh, but you have, dear. haven't you, lyney?" there's a certain amount of swing in your step as your voice embraces a melodramatic feature.

you observe his unsure expression as you near. unsure of what you mean, unsure of what your planning mind is thinking and unsure of what you're feeling, for your mask of mist is overwhelming.

you stand close to him, only a small gap between your feet, "yet, i must confess i want my heart to be forever yours. don't hold it in the hands i've placed it in. carefully hold it next to yours as i've done with your own." your voice is soft, your fingers delicately guiding themselves to the left of his chest, a palm pressing against the frills and fabric that lay before his heart.

his hazed eyes meet your gaze as you look up, imagining the scent of lavender as you study lyney's gaze. his breath is ragged, your hand moving to the rhythm of his lungs working. your beloved doesn't respond to your request, he doesn't know how. yet, you know he'll follow, even through thin silence and a fluttering breath.

you smile, propping yourself up onto the wooden surface propped up by the wall, a large vanity of sorts. you lift a hand motioning lyney towards you.

"come, let me braid your hair," you say, the topic from before becoming something to now ponder over.

he's quick to move back into you, in between your legs as you comb a hand through his ashy blonde locks. first, a nail runs from his hairline to create a part in his hair, although most of his hair is sectioned off to the side you're not going to braid. you comb another hand through the hair, the strands soft between fingers as you section a part close to his face before splitting it into three. taking one of the outer strands, you lay it over the top of the middle strand before repeating the process several times.

"lyney, my love, could you please turn around," you request, switching hands and tightening your grasp on his hair.

your lover winces and you let out a chesty chuckle as he begins to face you with a pout. you observe the unfinished work placed on the side of his face, before eying him. a sudden urge nudges your mind, yet you indulge by placing a kiss on his cheek and then asking him to turn around for you again.

"h-hey!" he exclaims, pink slightly airbrushed onto his pale cheeks.

you tease some more, looking up at the clock in the corner of your eye; motioning to it, "you choose, you have ten minutes before you're out on stage."

you swear you heard a hushed huff as he faced away from you once again. lyney’s hair is at your disposal as you continue braid, your fingers raking through both his hair and scalp as you continue to intergrade more strands into the singular plait behind his ear. your eyes graze his bare skin—specifically the back his neck and shoulders. lips getting dangerously close, your breath caressing your partner’s shoulder before the two connect in short.

a smile widens on your lips as you feel your boyfriend slightly squirm under your touch. yet, you're inclined to kiss his pretty skin, leading from the outs of his shoulder to the point where his neck and back meet. you pepper many of your kisses until his skin feels feverish. until you have braided to 'til there is only a tuff at the end of the braid.

you tie the hair off, sweeping it behind his ear as he begins to face you, "thank you," he breathes out.

"you'll do great, i promise." you cup his cheek, "your nerves aren't out of the blue lyney, it happens."

you press one more kiss, this time against the plump of his cheek.

"i’ll see you out in the crowd, my love."

you only reply with a smile.

do not copy of repost any of my works.

@ miokki 2024

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: "Okay ha ha, very funny. Who stole me and Charlie's laundry out of the dryer again- Angel Dust!"

Angel Dust: "Wasn' me."

Vaggie: "Are you wearing my fucking skirt!?"

Angel Dust: "Ooooh~ it's a FUCKIN' skirt, huh? This one kept special for when Charlie jumps ya?"

Vaggie: "Que te la pique un pollo- NO."

Angel Dust: "Aw c'mon toots, we all know you have one~"

Vaggie: "Give me back. My skirt. You. Ass."

Angel Dust: "Speakin' of... is it really still YOUR skirt, Vagina, if MY ass is the one lookin' so utterly fine and fabulous in it?"

Vaggie: "YOU DONT HAVE AN ASS, ANGEL DUST."

Angel Dust: "Yeah? Then what's this beautiful thang here, hmm?"

Vaggie: "I don't know because there's nothing there for you to even POINT at, twig twink!"

Husk: "HA!"

Angel Dust: "Ugh fiiine. Since you're being nice an' usin' my preferred pronouns-"

Vaggie: "Twig???"

Husk: "Twink."

Angel Dust: "-I'll hand over the girlfriend-fucking skirt. The delicius heat from the dryer's mostly gone now anyway. Jus' lemme grab something to throw on over it first..."

Vaggie: "Seriously? THAT'S why you took it?? Dryer heat?"

Angel Dust: "Next best thing to hot bath at the end of a day's hard work, baby! A day's VERY hard, throbbing, aching work-"

Vaggie: "I will throw this spear at you. I WILL ruin your stupid hair."

Husk: "Fucking do it."

Vaggie: "YOU shut up too. You're the one who taught him this in the first place, aren't you?"

Husk: "WHAT? I don't put on your fucking skirts!"

Angel Dust: "Wha' about her non-fucking ones?"

Husk & Vaggie: "Shut up."

Angel Dust: "Touché~ Protestin' too much, me thinks~”

Vaggie: "Husk- we all know you're the one waiting for the dryer to finish so you can drag the laundry onto the floor and sleep on it!"

Husk: "That's bullshit- you've got no proof-"

Angel Dust: "Cat hair, Mr. Whiskers."

Husk: "The fucking hotel has a cat!"

Vaggie: "That smells like a bar and also sheds feathers?"

Husk: "FUCK."

Angel Dust: "Don't break yourself up over it, kitten daddy- If you hadn't shown me the joys of laundry shopping, I'd never have known how GOOD I look in this jacket."

Vaggie: "???? You- IS THAT CHARLIE'S!?!?"

Angel Dust: "Goes good with the skirt, huh? If you two had a kid, they'd fucking SLAY."

Vaggie: "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING HER JACKET"

Angel Dust: "Look- she's the only one in this fancy prancy hotel that's got the same measurements as me, at least in the shoulder, hips, and torso department! The only one who's clothes don't smell like dead deer and dusty old radios, anyway!! I'm kinda low on options here, okay?"

Vaggie: "WHAT ABOUT THE OPTION OF DON'T StEAL OUR STUFF?? THAT'S LIKE, THE EASIEST FUCKING OPTION YOU COULD HAVE!"

Angel Dust: "Orrrrr, you two could adopt me as you gay lovechild and give me some fuckin' hand me downs. Or money."

Vaggie: “OUR WHAT!?”

Angel Dust: “Fuck it, give me money an’ I’ll buy my own clothes, mom.”

Vaggie: “I. Am. NOT-”

Charlie: “-hey guys! Has anyone seen my….”

Charlie: “…uh, Vaggie? Why is Angel Dust dressed like our gay lovechild?”

Angel Dust: “HA!”

Charlie: “And did he just call you ‘mom??’”

Vaggie: “I give up. Anyone needs me, I’ll be in the laundry room, shoving myself in the dryer on the hellfire setting.”

Husk: “You’ll have to fucking drag Niffty out first.”

Vaggie: “What.”

Charlie: “What?”

Angel Dust: “WHAT”

Husk: “She was crawling in head first when I left after waking up- uhh- after getting something.”

Angel Dust: (shrieking) “AN’ YOU LEFT HER THERE???”

Vaggie: “Oh shit-”

Charlie: “Vaggie- go! Fly!! Go go go now Now NOW- EMPLOYEE IN THE INDUSTRIAL CLEANING EQUIPMENT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!”

- meanwhile, in the laundry room-

THUMP THUMP THUMP

THUMP…. Thump………… thump

Alastor: “…”

Alastor: (reaches over to knock on dryer door)  

Alastor: “Having fun, dear?”

Niffty: (flopping limply half out of dryer) (battered) (scorched) (GRINNING) “Ow pain!”

Alastor: “Quite.”

Niffty: “Heheheh… heHEHEHEH.”

Niffty: (sets the dryer to max again) “More…. PAIN!!!” (shuts door from the inside) (grins from other side with her face pressed against the glass)

Alastor: “Fascinating.”

Thump…Thump. Thump. THUMP THUMPTHUMP-

Cherri Bomb: “…”

Cherri Bomb: “…Know what? You kids have fun. I’m just gonna go, like, break into someone’s house and murder them so I can use their washer and dryer. That’ll be less fucked up than….. whatever this is.” (hefts basket of bloody laundry and bombs) (waves over her shoulder while leaving) “Bye~”

[zevrra]

JJK—

synopsis: just some random hc’s i have for the men of jjk!

tags: fluff only, the men of jjk, nanami kento, choso kamo, geto suguru, gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, hc’s, short & sweet

creator notes: will make a part 2 for this >:3

nanami !!

— is totally that “i will take care of you in every aspect” guy but i secretly think he’s pretty possessive too

— doesn’t get jealous easily

— flip flops between being a total morning person (on his days off) but the days he has to “work” he’s the opposite

— love/hate relationship with coffee bc he def drinks 8 cups of it every morning and feels gross after he does it

— the epitome of cleanliness and perfect hygiene

— like 100% he uses top of the line shampoo and body washes and after shaves and cologne!!

— ALWAYS smells good and it’s a mix of amber, some kinda wood, and probably something soft like vanilla

— feel like he’s cheap when it comes to stuff for himself but anytime it involves you, he’s buying you the best of the best

— leaves you notes all over the place whether it’s on the fridge, next to your side of the bed, sending flowers to your work space with a note attached, all just to tell you how much he cares and loves you

— willingly works overtime for you :3

choso !!

— sleeps until 4 pm every day

— a true night owl, mans HATES the sun

— feel like he’s super photogenic but hates taking photos unless you’re taking them

— would work any electronic like an elderly man

— “i can’t find the settings on this thing. where is it i’ve been looking for it for 15 minutes!” “it’s right here” “oh. how did you do that?”

— either has no scent at all or smells like iron/cinnamon/or straight up blood im so sorry skshskhkdhsk

— you both match everything from jewelry, especially rings, to outfits

— sleepy eye bags 24/7!!!

— takes a 5 minute shower but sits in the bathroom on his phone watching the loudest videos he can for 45 mins before he gets in

— loves spicy food!!

geto !!

— leaves gifts in your rooms without a word

— is the type to “i saw it and it reminded me of you so i got it”

— loves wholeheartedly. full chest, heart, mind, body, and soul

— willingly hands you his hoodie after he’s done wearing it

— quality time & gift giving is his love language!!

— heavy on quality time, he wants to sit or stand beside you and just coexist 24/7

— matching tattoos and piercings

— scary guard dog bf!!!!

— actually doesn’t mean to be but he kind of loves it a lot when other guys run away from you(him)

— his pet names for you range from “babe” to “stinky” and everything in between

— probably smells like sage & citrus

— he takes the longesssst showers ever and always invites you to them

— let’s you braid his hair, falls asleep every time you do it

gojo !!

— wants to touch you constantly!

— you’re either holding his hand or sitting in his lap anytime you two are together

— loves loves loves hugs

— gossip QUEEN! omg he’s so nosy

— “did you HEAR about this????” and it’s either the most basic information or straight up gossip gold

— always emphasizes the MY in his pet names for you

— “oh my love!” “my darling.” “hmm my princess?”

— a jealous, jealous man >:3

— loves to show you off until someone other than himself looks at you jshsjshk

— is the type of dude who acts all funny and tough in public but the second it’s just the two of you, at home, he wants to be babied and have his back scratched 24/7

— doesn’t tell you when it’s going to be chilly out so he gets to tease you as he hands you his warm jacket

— plans surprise dates all the time

toji !!

— is never caught wearing anything other than sweat pants

— wore a suit once for your first date and then never put it back on

— his love language is probably a mix between physical touch and gift giving

— has a hand always placed on your thigh!!

— his favorite season is winter and when you ask him why he just says he likes the cold

— it probably also has to do with wanting to keep you warm too

— is the type to: “i hate wearing bracelets” “ok ill just take it back” “no fuck you i’m gonna wear it and never take it off”

— literally keeps everything you give him in a box so he doesn’t lose them

— uses 13 and 1 shampoo

— calls you his old lady(affectionate) unironically

— smells like cigarettes and cheap ass beer KSHSKHS

— when he’s actually clean and sober he probably smells more like heavy wood and fire/smoke

— is a massive HEATER when he sleeps and he always sleeps on his back

— sleeps in the nude

[youronlydarlin]

warning: kinda sad ANGST, Simon losses you :( , ooc kinda?? But he's soft for you only, trust me bro

This was kinda inspired by that one part in the comics where our poor, Si holds his mums skull, n he jus'... Kinda nuzzles into it. I dunno it just bought on some sad feeling, mkay...

Simon who slightly raises the cup of tea he's drinking each time he has one, just to let you know he's relaxing. Or trying his best too, at least. Doesn't know what he'll do if he worried you from beyond the grave. Sometimes he looks at all the belongings you left behind. Saying how they probably miss you, but not nearly as much as he does.

Unlike some, Simon uses your things. He doesn't want the house to go through the pain of loosing you too. So he drinks from your mug, and sits on your chair. Reads your favorite books, but never takes out the book marks in case you want to continue reading them. He also completes your bucket list for you, and even though he's the one doing them he always whispers 'good job, to the wind, hoping they'll carry the messenge to you.

Simon who speaks to your framed pictures. He remembers each, and every memory behind them. "Bet your happy... Now it'll always be my turn to grab the 'bloody groceries.." he jests. He hopes that one made you laugh. Knowing you, you would've. It's a mystery how you always laughed at his lame jokes. Though your laugh's always been better than the awful punchlines.

Simon who passes by that cafe you bugged him to go with you to, and he feels his throat go dry. He never got to take you there because of a sudden call from Price, telling him about an urgent, albeit sudden, mission. He definitely regrets not taking you out on dates more often. There's so many shops opening that he knows you would've loved to see.

Simon who's heart breaks at how quickly the world turns without you. Everything's moving so quickly, leaving him behind like it's already moved on, and he hates it. He hates how there's less clothes to fold now. Food is served, but only for one. The taste of it is flavorless, and dry. It's times like these, that he wishes he should have took the time and learn your recipes.

But what's worse, is that your side of the bed is cold. And it'll remain that way forever. At times he'll reach for you absentmindedly. Nightmares about war traded for dreams about you, but during those dreamless nights where sleep doesn't visit he'll stroke your pillow the same way he'd do to keep your hair out of your face, and pull the covers over the empty space you once occupied. He wonders if it's cold where you are right now. But just know that he's always willing to warm you up if ever you come back.

Simon who...

Stands at the doorway. Bag slinged over his shoulder, full of everything he needs and more for deployment. He knows he can't leave without properly saying goodbye, so he fishes out his wallet, and digs out a picture of you. He holds it up to his face, and it's funny. How you're not even staring at the camera when the photo was taken. No, you were staring at him. This one's always been his favorite. So he clears his throat, and wishes you don't hear the slight shake in his tone.

"..By now you would've told me to be careful.. And I will, by the way. But, m' sorry for all the times I didn't...'

....

" I have to go now. Don't need them gettin' on my ass for 'being late.. so.."

....

"..You just rest now, ok, love? There's nothing else for you to worry about' anymore. I love you, always. Wish me, and the boys luck, yeah?.."

He gives a light kiss to your photo, and it's as if you're with him when he steps outside the door..

a/n: This was a challenge to write, and I don't know what to feel about the results. I'm just polishing my english, I guess. M'not good at writing angst, you can probably tell, also my grammar feels off on this one, again. English isn't my first language, sorry. So please correct me on any mistakes I've made! But putting all that aside, I hope you like this more than I do! And, always remember that you are loved, and cared for! Have an amazing day, my darlings!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

[san8ny]

nearby.

an: SFW with fluff, but there is some underlying hinting to Abby’s conflicting attraction to you; not an original trope obviously, so credit to the authors who’ve done this before.

It wasn't that serious.

'It wasn't that serious', is what they told themselves at first, as they looked at you, seemingly feeling like discarded toys a child leaves once they acquire a newer one— a better one

they were utterly absorbed in envy at how much she paid attention to you,

how she would call you over in the languid mornings, sun barely risen, to brush your tangled hair with a wooden-paddle while everyone else gets a headstart on their chores,

Or maybe, how she would click her tongue and swipe the pads of her thumbs across your sticky supple cheeks when you return from the trees during Maple Syrup season,

Abby Anderson truely had favorites, and it was clearly obvious who it was,

Though no one complained, she was growing seemingly aware at the odds you were becoming with your ranch counterparts,

“I just..god, it’s annoying, y’know?” you mutter to her, lifting your head up from where you lay in the grassy terrain, a small place you and Abby would relax in before attending to the crops, “Like, they weren’t always like this, Harriet was so much nicer and Opal actually use to talk to me.”

Abby hums, tying up her horse before easing herself onto the ground near where you lay, “I think you’re overthinking it.”

“You always say that.”

“Am I ever wrong?”

You smile as you drop your head back down, closing your eyes, “Kinda wish you were.”

Abby chuckles at your words before carefully lifting the brim of her hat and placing it on your face, providing shade to some degree, “Mm.”

After some quiet moments with the rustling of the trees and the Cicadas ticking amongst them, you find yourself peering up from the hat and staring at where Abby rests her eyes,

She had to have been one of the prettiest girls out there by far and the kindest ones,

Long dirty blonde hair, firm blue eyes that softened whenever she conversed with people to contradict her ‘tough guy’ persona, little dottings of freckles that would come and go—everything about her was pretty to you.

Albeit, you and her didn’t get along at first when you arrived on the ranch, but she warmed up to your willingness to befriend her in a way that didn’t feel like smooching, it was genuine.

it also, wasn’t far along the road where she would find herself falling for the very traits in you she previously found annoyance in,

the way you’d look at her in blatant confusion when she insults you with terms you’d never heard about as a city-dweller,

“I think i’d rather you call me a bitch or something..” you’d say with several blinks as she sizes you up,

Abby was humored with your presence around her, but it also gave her a sense of comfort.

You were soft around the edges the southern sun had wilted hers.

While you stare at her through the little peeking spot under the cowboy hat ridge, she cracks an eye open— “You have a staring problem.” She says, yawning as she turns onto her side to face you fully,

“Nu-uh.”

“Yuh-huh” She mocks, groaning as she stretches and sits up, “How long have we been here ‘gain?”

“10 minutes, i’d say? Give or take.” You shrug, copying her actions. The afternoon heat consumes you as you unbutton the top buttons of your flannel, “Not even June yet and it’s burning.”

Sorry, were you speaking?

Abby was too focused on watching the dribble of sweat traveling down your neck to the swell inbetween your tanktop-clad breasts,

“Abs?” You say in slight confusion when she doesn’t give you some small, likely smart-assed retort back.

Her eyes quickly flicker up to yours, blinking before shaking her head, “Y-yeah, yeah. Heat’s ‘jus getting to me too” She coughs out, “Let’s head on down to the roots.”

“Right.” You nod before standing up, “ I CALL DIBS ON THE TURNIPS!”

Abby groans as she watches you race towards your tethered stallions, “C’mon, those are my favorite!”

Though, when you’re not looking, she’s giving you the smallest of smiles,

How she would ever say she loves you romantically without ruining this relationship you both had tugs at her heart-strings,

but until then,

she was content with whatever you threw at her.

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Bro, infinite darkness Leon is plaguing my mind I’m being so fr rn. So my req is like DomInfiniteDarkness!Leon and like this reader who rlly sarcastic and bites back and shit like that and the plot is (porn 🫶 obvi) that he asks reader to ride his face (after a few days of sexual tension) and like she’s taken aback at first but then she’s like ‘he’s hot tho’ (not rlly I can’t think of a better response, u can choose) so she rides his face yeah, and he has this grip on her thighs that she can’t even try squirming away

And omg, there should be like this one part when he’s eating her and like she grips his hair and he goes feral and sucks harshly as a motion to continue the grip on his hair, also the stubble that he has should like graze her poussay and like she clenches bc of it and Leon notices 😮‍💨🤭🤭

Leon just gives pussy-eater vibes, is it jus me? 😭 anyways in not asking this anonymously bc I need this shit so bad

If u wrote anything similar, I’m sorry 😭 😭

Tyyyy ♥️♥️♥️🫶🫶🫶🫶

( I had to, he’s so fine)

ID Leon is a plague in my mind he never goes away. I was actually writing a request super similar to this so i hope the other person who requested this sees this!! I honestly don’t think it’s that good but i try my hardest FOR YOU GUYS. I made the reader plus size deal with it and if you hate it so much just block it out with your mind okay because i needed to write a lil something for me in this one. Sorry i haven’t been posting much writing i hit little blocks sometimes and feel like my writing sucks but nothing a little sleep couldn’t fix!

Disclaimer!!! This blog is 18+ only! If you are underaged please don’t interact with my posts thank you!!

mentions of afab slighty plus size reader x ID Leon!!

Warnings: Angsty kinda! Mentions of yelling, holding guns and close to death experiences. Leon forces reader to sit on his face, he’s kinda rough with her

word count: 2,826

Heavy. Your arm hanging from the metal that had been broken not even seconds before. Though you and Leon had far to many disagreements he was still your partner. Just the way his head tilted up and his hand gripped at your wrist you knew he was so angry that you would throw yourself so close to death just to save him. The metal beneath you made a loud creaking noise as you gripped at Leon's hand, your other arm folding over to pull him up onto the platform with you.

“You have a death wish?”

Leon yelled as he tried to carefully crawl up next to you as you let go of his arm. You leaned back on your arms, catching your breath, your eyes followed Leon standing up, his hand reaching down to help you off the floor.

“That must’ve really bruised your ego huh, kennedy.”

Mascara caked a bit under your eyes due to all the running and the tank of water exploding all over you. Your hips swayed side to side as you put your hand up waving goodbye to Leon, yelling something about how you’d see him next week.

——-

Leon’s jaw tightened watching your hips sway, the way your soaked shirt clung to your body. You were his rookie once, he trained you from the ground up. Once your promotion hit you never let Leon talk down to you again, and he hated it. Snarky comments about his aim, about the way he talks, how he looks in his suits.

His body screamed at him for relief, preferably whiskey. The bar was quiet and he couldn’t help but thank the god he didn’t necessarily believe in. His fingers traced over the rim of his glass in front of him. The man had too much trauma, a troubling past and current that just weighed on him so heavily that it made everything he does difficult.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Your silky voice snapped him from his day dreaming, his chin tilting down as his eyes traced every dip and curve of your body before he brought the glass to his lips, the liquid stinging his throat as he tilted the glass against his mouth. You wore that pretty black dress you had been wearing back in Grahamas office, but of course you had to change when actual shit started to go down. It hugs your hips and thighs so good, your plush legs crossing over each other as you sat down staring at your partner.

“You okay?”

For once you seemed genuinely concerned for him, Leon’s head nodding as the bartender poured more whiskey into his glass. Your delicate hand reaching forward and pulling the glass from him. Leon sighed turning himself to you in full, his hands reaching down to unbutton his jacket that held it to his center.

“What.”

A smirk quickly grew on your lips as you took HIS whiskey down your throat, your nose scrunching as you pushed the glass back to him. He was so tired of your bratty demeanor, it’s so unprofessional, so unclassy. Your hands reached out to fix the collar of his white button down as you still processed the burn of the alcohol.

“I worry about you sometimes.. Anyways, I was looking for you then Claire told me you were rambling about desperately needing a drink.”

Leon couldn’t help but admire the way your hands moved when you spoke, your eyes rolling at the mention of his small drinking problem.

“Drinking everyday is bad for your liver Leon.”

Leon groaned at your lecturing, his hands coming up to shush you.

“Fuck you..”

He grumbled, causing your mouth to drop open. Honestly you were offended. For once you were really concerned about the man which was rare from either of you because if you weren’t working, you were fighting.

“You’d like that too much, old man.”

———-

“Cmon Le.. Let's just have one more drink.”

Leon’s hands held at your waist as you stumbled into him. So while you lectured him for drinking so much you downed shots one after another right in front of him. Leon watched you ramble all night, the night he was supposed to spend for himself. After he pulled the both of you outside, you shivered pointing to your car, you hand grabbing for your keys in your purse.

“Okay bye Leon.”

You slurred as a whistle left Leon’s lips, his much taller frame coming in front of you to catch you yet again. Your hands nudged at him, trying to push him off you as you whined about it being cold and how you wanted to lay down. His hands worked at his jacket, shrugging it off and reaching for your arms and slipping it onto you.

“Stop talking and walk, let’s go, you're not driving.”

You were an idiot. Leon’s head shook in disappointment as the two of you began your walk down the street in silence. Even through your drunken fog you could see he was upset with you, your hands playing with the long sleeves of his dark blue suit jacket. He did have his moments where he got genuinely upset with you, like when you had accidentally stabbed him during training, or when you stepped in front of him and Chris during a mission to take the damage of a blown hit. You didn’t belong in this field and he had no idea how you even made it this far. He reached into his back pocket pulling his keys out before he pushed open the door, turning himself back to you.

“Inside.”

His palm rested against your lower back as you stepped inside his home, your eyes adjusting to the lighting change. Leon pulled the jacket off of you and threw it on his couch before he leaned on the counter staring at you. Standing in the middle of his living room. His annoyance was making you sober, playing with your fingernails as he glared at you. His back turned to you as he pulled a glass from his cabinet, turning on his faucet to pour water into it. You flinched as he slammed it in front of you.

“Drink.”

A laugh left your lips as you reached for the glass, taking a sip. But Leon didn’t seem to find it as funny as you did, his hands resting on the beautiful marble counter.

“Lots of one word responses tonight huh.”

You asked as you finished off the glass of water, your hand rubbing your stomach. He was in his own world, it was shocking he cared as much as he did.

“Yeah, goodnight.”

Leon mumbled as he pulled the glass into his sink, pointing to the blankets on the couch. Watching his figure walk down the hall made your skin crawl. You wanted to tell him how scared you were today, how you almost lost him. How he didn’t notice the bruise on your right shoulder from almost breaking your shoulder saving him.

————

A loud thump of a pillow hitting your face shook you from your sleep, your hand reaching for your gun as you sat up.

“Oh calm down. Let’s go Grahams called.”

Leon spoke as he handed you your shoes. You yawned, pushing your heels on before running out the door after him. It’s your favorite time of day, even though you have a violent hangover and it feels like you are going to puke with every step you take trying to catch up to Leon. Out of breath finally walking beside him you push your neck forward, nodding with that stupid smug look on your face that Leon hated.

“You clean up really nice Leon, what straightener do you use?”

How could you be so bitchy at eight in the morning, Leon’s eyes rolled, his lips pressed together as he got into his car, you not falling too short behind. Out of all the people in the department he didn’t understand how he ended up with you as his partner.

——-

“What?”

Leon stood next to you, him and the president sharing a glance as he sighed.

“Listen, Leon told me what happened yesterday and we decided collectively it would be best for you to go work for another agency.”

Your jaw grew tight, it felt like your teeth were being grinded down and your cheeks were flushed a deep red in anger. Your head snapped to Leon, your eyes squinting at him. How could he file a complaint about you saving his life? He is lying directly to the source but you had no proof he was lying which is what made the situation so much worse.

“Fuck you.”

Your words smacked Leon in the face, your body purposely shoving into his shoulder- and hard too. The sound of your heels clicking filled the hallway, your anger building in your chest as you stormed out the back door. This was your life purpose, being an agent. When your younger brother had died at the hands of Umbrella you tried working your way up to demolish it all. None of it mattered anyways because when you met Leon and Chris your life had completely changed. Even though you and Leon had too many unsolvable problems, you thought he still cared? Now you were left jobless, clueless. You looked down at your phone as it buzzed in your purse ‘Leon’ Flashing on the screen.

Stupid son a bitch.

————

Loud banging on your door woke you up, your eyes fixing on the clock on your nightstand. Three in the morning? Sitting up quickly you pulled your handgun from your dresser, tip toeing into the living room area of your flat.

“Who is it? I have a gun!”

When not at work your self defense skills were beyond poor, the banging stopped, the sounds of shuffling were heard before a small thud was heard against your door. Peering into the small eyehole of your door, there stood Leon. His eyes squeezed shut as he rested his palm against your door, you immediately swung the door open causing Leon to fix at his posture.

“Jesus christ Leon, what the fuck?”

Leon’s body pushed into your flat, slamming the door behind him. His hands grabbed at the gun in your hand, laying it on your counter. Your lower back smacked against your couch as he towered over you, his hands reaching down to hold at your face before his lips smacked into yours. No alcohol? Leons teeth nipped at your lip, pulling a low moan from you before you put your hands out pushing him away from you

“What are you doing?”

Leon’s chest heaved as he stared at you, you still looked so sleepy, your pretty nightgown resting so beautifully on your thighs. Your hair was a mess and now your lips were all puffy, he couldn’t fucking stand you. Leon’s hand ruffled through his hair as he looked down the hall to your room, your bed sheets a mess. Leon’s hand gripped your upper arm, walking down the hallway with you in his hands.

“Leon! Stop! Look at me”

Pretending you didn’t like the way he touched you was a joke, and you knew Leon could tell just by the way you reacted to his touch. A whine spilled from your lips as he shoved you down onto your silk sheets, your fingers reaching down to fix your nightgown that had flown up. The sound of Leon’s knees hitting the floor echoed through your ears, your upper body lifting as you watched him lick at his chapped lips. His head shook at the sight of your glistening folds in front of him, your thighs squeezing together as you stared down at the man. Stammers of protest left your lips as Leon’s fingers dug into the flesh of your meaty thighs, of course he was strong but you didn’t know he was this strong. A deep groan emitted from his chest as he lifted his hand, his tongue running across his fingers. His eyes finally met yours, his fingers slick with his spit rubbing small circles on your clit.

“Not so much to say now, huh?”

Oh. Your heart dropped as you remembered the paperwork you had sent in placing a complaint for him. Talking about how unprofessional he was, how he drinks on the job, and stuff about his personal life in general, your lips shook as your mouth opened, a moan ripping from your throat as Leon's thick fingers pushed into you, your hand reached down grabbing at his wrist but he pushed it off to side as he rose his way up your much smaller body. His other hand gripped at the inner part of your knee, locking it beside him as he pushed his fingers into you.

“God you piss me off, Grahams was so mad at me you know? But unlike you I didn't lose my job. You had me with your little comments but I swear if you try something like this again, I will do more than fuck you stupid, Do you understand me?”

When did Leon get the capability to be so fucking mean? Your head nodded up at him, his fingers drawing from you. Leon’s head shook in disapproval as he pushed himself off you, laying down on his back.

“Sit.”

Great. Back with the one word responses. You sat up confused as your hand reached down to cover your exposed self. Your gaze shifted to Leon who looked so pretty sprawled out onto your black silk sheets. His pupils were blown with lust.

“Sit?”

Laughter came with the question as Leon tilted his head to the side to admire you tilting your head back as you laughed at yourself. His hands tugged you towards him, making you lose your balance. “fucking brat.” He mumbled as he dragged you onto of him, your body sitting on his chest.

“Sit on my face. I know you’re not stupid.”

Leon spoke up to you as he pulled your hips towards his face but you pushing yourself back made his eyebrows raise.

“Leon, I'm going to kill you..”

You sat up slightly trying to take more weight off his chest. You weren’t the skinniest but Leon knew that you were always a bit self conscious about your weight, and the amount of times he has caught you has been extremely surprising. One look down at him changed your mind, he was looking at you as if you were the only person in the word, his tongue continuously licking over his lips, you let out a shaky breath before you brought yourself forward grabbing at the headboard. Hovering over his face still too scared but Leon’s hands reached up, pushing you down onto his face.

“Leon!- oh-”

Screams of worry turned into soft cries of pleasure, Leon’s hands reaching back to cup at your ass in his hands, somehow pushing you further into him. Your eyes finally fluttered open, staring down at Leon who seemed to be enjoying much more than he should. Never did you imagine Leon’s face so deep into you, your thighs pushing against his cheeks, the scruff on his face scraping your soft skin. His eyes opened hazily, staring up at you as he pushed his tongue into you, his hands still rocking you into him.

“Leon wait!-”

You cried out as a boiling burn started to build in your stomach, your body going to crawl off of him. Leon’s arms wrap around your thighs before you’re flipped over, his thighs laying over his shoulder as he laps at your folds on long strokes. Your hands reach down, grabbing at his soft hair. Leon moans out, vibrating your entire body as he uses his fingers to hold your folds open. He’s sucking at your clit so fucking good, your hands trying to push him away as he hold you’re hips down. He could have this view forever, the way you’re crying for him and the way you taste so good in his mouth. The amount of times Leon has wanted to force you down and suck on your pretty little clit was too many to count on his hand.

“Fuck!”

Your scream could probably be heard from all the flats around you as your orgasm flashed through your body, causing tears to drip from your eyes. A cry left your throat as Leon sat up, his fingers gently rubbing small heart shapes on your clit with a big smile on his face. He looked so beautiful, your slick covering his chin and his lips swollen from sucking at your folds for so long.

“Le.. s’ too much.”

Leon shook his head as he leaned down, sloppily pressing kissing on your lips, your own taste filling your mouth before you screamed out at the feeling of Leon once again pushing his long fingers into you.

“Jus’ give me five more of those pretty.. I'm enjoying this too much.”

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for @qwertynerd97; a bit more of "congratulations, it's a metaweapon!" behind the cut.

“Beta!” Alpha snaps too, but Beta just disappears out the door without so much as glancing back at a single one of them. Match glances towards Superboy, wondering, again, what the hell she’s thinking. What she knows–or thinks she knows–that no one else here does. 

Maybe not no one else, Match thinks briefly, still looking at Superboy. 

Superboy still looks furious, is the thing, his fists clenched at his sides and TTK tangling his hair. Match doesn’t feel any trace of it coming out any further from him, but . . . 

The “nerves” comment is definitely still in his head. That comment, and how quick Beta was to head for the door. That’s all. 

Superboy isn’t on record as having done anything that violent before. It’s almost definitely a bluff. 

But it also seems like a very specific bluff, so maybe it’s not. 

“The project isn’t going anywhere,” Alpha says, glaring at the door Beta left through like it’s somehow the problem. “Spence, get Superboy either contained or dead. Subject Match, you–” 

“You’re not in charge of him!” Superboy barks, clenching his fists tighter. “And if you give him one more fucking order, I’ll make you fucking regret it!” 

“He is, in fact, in charge of me,” Match says in exasperation. Alpha and Gamma are a majority against Beta, so it’s not as if he’s going to ignore them just because she’s giving contrary orders to theirs. He is wary of why her orders are so contrary to theirs, but it’s not his place or position to wonder. Not his concern. 

“He is not,” Superboy says. “He's just a prick who thinks he can enslave you!” 

“It's not slavery if I don’t have free will,” Match reminds him dubiously. Superboy scowls at him and folds his arms. 

“Really, ‘cuz you sure sound like you’re picking who you wanna listen to right now,” he says. “Seems kinda ‘free will’ to me.” 

“I'm not picking. I'm only meant to listen to the Agenda's orders,” Match says, exasperated again. He was made to listen to the Agenda's orders. They made him to listen to them. There's not another option.

‘Don't be a brat about this,” Superboy says, his scowl darkening. “Or, I dunno, I'll ground you.” 

Match stares blankly at him. He cannot even fathom the logic behind that “threat”.

“I need a bigger gun,” Spence mutters. Match doesn’t point out the lack of functional weaponry in the room. It’s screamingly obvious, for one thing. He does wonder where Spence thinks she’s getting that “bigger gun”, though, and why Alpha didn’t order him to contain or kill Superboy. That would make more sense, given the weapons issue. 

Or it should, anyway. 

“Good luck with that,” Superboy says dubiously, then looks at Match again. “We’re going home now.” 

Match–pauses. Frowns. What the fuck does he mean, “home”? 

“Those aren’t my standing orders,” he says reflexively.

“Have you eaten?” Superboy asks, frowning back at him in–is that concern? That cannot be concern. Even Superboy cannot possibly be that stupid. “Did they feed you anything?”

It’s been about five minutes of actual consciousness and Match is already having the weirdest and most ridiculous existence that any metaweapon has ever had, he’s pretty certain. Actually, he’s definitely certain. What is wrong with this idiot? 

“This is idiotically off-topic,” he says. 

“Maybe we could get takeout or something on the way home,” Superboy says, frowning to himself now. “Do you know what anything tastes like yet? Is that a thing?” 

Match's standards for “weirdest and most ridiculous” are definitely being tested. 

“I wouldn't trust your assessment of my necessary caloric intake and nutrition if my entire existence depended on it,” he says dubiously. 

“Maybe we could get you a smoothie,” Superboy says, still frowning. “If you haven't had solid food yet, I mean. Probably be easier on your stomach or whatever. I was not smart enough to start with smoothies, it sucked.” 

Match stares blankly at him and strongly considers just killing him now, orders or not. Is this what existing is always like? Because this is stupid. Like . . . so, so stupid. 

He didn’t ask to exist, but he especially didn’t ask to be based off a fucking idiot. 

He’s seriously questioning the Agenda’s judgment in gene donors, at this point. Really, they didn’t have any better options for this project? 

Match finds that hard to believe and frankly he’d like to see the shortlist. 

Purely Kryptonian DNA is too complex for current human technology to reproduce, he knows, but they could’ve made him from . . . he doesn’t know, Supergirl, at least. She’s also a Kryptonian-based genetic experiment with very useful powers, and also telekinetic. And a shapeshifter with a berserker form and the capacity to turn invisible, on top of that. Those make for a much more useful powerset than just tactile telekinesis on its own, which is much more utility-based. He’d have been much more useful having been cloned from her. 

. . . not that Match would be any version of “himself” if he’d been cloned from her, obviously, just . . . 

That would’ve produced a better-suited clone for the project. That’s all. Obviously. So that’s what the Agenda should’ve done. 

Obviously. 

“It was whatever,” Superboy says, looking a little embarrassed. Match looks at Alpha and Gamma, really hoping to get the kill order already. That’s what he was made for, after all. He’s a weapon, not–“Anyway, I know better now, so I’ll make sure shit like that won’t happen to you, okay?” 

Match is not that, definitely. Not something that needs . . . whatever, exactly, Superboy seems to think he needs. He’s a superior specimen; an upgraded version. Superboy is just scrap DNA, now that he exists. 

He doesn’t understand why Superboy doesn’t understand that. 

It’s blatantly obvious to everyone else in this building, after all. 

. . . or Match thought it was, before Director Beta told him to leave with his “father”.

He still doesn’t understand why she did that. 

[nothingbutnowhere]

Hockey player au! John "Soap" Mactavish headcanons

Note: extremely suggestive of ghoap and a little hint of ghoap x reader if you are so inclined to read it that way (she/her used)

...

Defenseman. Loves getting dirty in the d-zone corners, double teaming opponents and getting his stick in there, but still good at penetrating the o-zone and he's not afraid to drop down and hammer it in. The puck that is. (these are all things I've heard on broadcasts of NHL games, the innuendos that the play by play guys use are insane).

Menace! Absolute fucking menace!!! Mean bastard on the ice, intense in the locker room during games. Sass and tough guy act during media availability, all part of his rugged charm. But practice with the boys? He gets silly. Watch out! You could be getting pranked.

Backcheck, forecheck, paycheck. Heavy hits along the walls, BIG open ice hits, and killer hip checks (my personal favorite). Throws the type of hits everyone is always arguing about on twitter 🙄 He can be found in front of the net pushing and shoving opponents around. If you want a stick in the back he's your guy. Many, many a player has ended up in a headlock, getting a face wash after the whistle. On the shorter side for a hockey player which broadcasters always bring up but you'd never know by just watching him on the ice (they just hate a short king (anything under 6' is short in the NHL)).

He'll fight anyone, including the refs because that was a terrible icing call he absolutely had the guy beat! No he was onside! Tripping?! He dove!

Constantly dropping the gloves and getting into trouble. He'd be an enforcer if he wasn't a damn good player too. It's a good thing the players union keeps the fines low.

There's a whole YouTube page dedicated to his fights and hits with paragraphs of arguments on the legalities in the comments.

Scar on his chin from a skate cut during a game. Very scary in the moment because it bled a lot. Needed a ton of stitches but no major damage. 

Has more points than you'd think for a non-offensive defenseman. He really is good in the corners and swiping pucks off sticks, popping them out to the offense. Many goals have been scored by a Soap takeaway and a stretch pass to spring Gaz for a breakaway.

He'll tackle his teammates during their or his celly. He really truly cares about the boys. It's evident in the way he plays, how intense he is on the bench, and the helmet kisses. Wait, what? Yep, hockey players will sometimes show physical affection via helmet or even a kiss on the cheek. Not often, but it's all very sweet 🥹 Drives hockey twitter wild.

Chews on his mouth guards like they owe him money and he can extract it by destroying them.

Oh, you wanna fuck with Ghost? You're gonna have to go through him first. Will go feral on a guy for so much as breathing in the direction of his goalie. Ghost appreciates him very much. Probably. The bond between a goalie and his defensemen is so special, something you'll hear (in not so many words) from Soap himself. At the end of a win he'll have the longest head bonk to Ghost. Saying what? We'll never know cause neither of them will ever be mic'd up.

I say this for Gaz too but THIGH. This man's thighs are tree trunks. Rucks up short shorts on purpose. For the media. And the guys. Ask twitter and they can provide many examples.

Mic'd up status: You cannot. Under any circumstances. Mic this guy up. You'd have to bleep the whole thing for broadcast. Shorsey levels of explicit, he's gotten unsportman like conduct penalties for it. He and Gaz are a dangerous duo when it comes to chirps.

Hockey hair status: Excellent. Mohawk is 10/10. Starts a new trend with the kids. Absolutely does warmups without his helmet to show off the flow. (Could also see him with a mullet 100%). Ends up with so much facial hair during the playoffs

Roster pic: kinda bad :( why does he look surprised? Why is his face so red? His hair is fucked up?? They didn't even fix his trademark look?! Where the fuck did they just pull him from to take this photo??? (I love when players have shitty roster photos idk it's so funny to me)

WAG status: only recently in a serious relationship. She's sweet and pretty, instantly good friends with the other WAGs and taken under their wing since this is all very new to her. Surprisingly, has dark hair (most hockey WAGs seem to be blond??). Posts a lot on social media, generally seems to be having a great time. Always seems like Ghost is in the background of pictures of her and Soap? Hmmm.... Don't ask twitter about that.

...

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

More hockey au: Ghost | Soap | Gaz | Price

Note: WAG stands for wife and girlfriend or the plural, used to refer to sports guy's significant others. Yes it is heteronormative.

A/N: I didn't factor nationality into this. There have been very few Scottish-born NHL players and all of them were raised in Canada. Do with that what you will. I'll never actually write fics for this, but I have headcanons. I know a moderate amount about hockey and next to nothing about cod so apologies. Completely unserious. Just some silly little thoughts :) plus letterkenny reference!

[r0s3s26]

Match up for @cryingwhilereading your match is…Mirio Togata

<3 I think you and Mirio would be like the funniest couple ever

<3 Always bouncing off of each others energies and have the same joke going on for ever

<3 Water+Fire duo goes crazy (he’s a cancer)

<3 I don’t think he knows much about music and kinda would just listen to whatever is popular at the moment or on the radio

<3 When you introduce him to more artist he gets hooked

<3 I think he would like calming RnB/Hip-hop

<3 Like Igor and Blonde

<3 Long night drives listening to music>>>

<3 Will give you all the attention ever

<3 When he loses his quirk and is on leave from school he would have a lot more time for you and would spend all his recovery time with you, making up for all the time he has lost

<3 I don’t think he gets super jealous but when he does it's always like “Like Hello I don’t think we have met im Josi’s BOYFRIEND” or passive aggressive remarks with a big’ol smile on his face

<3 But I do think he is just generally protective of you

<3 Like at first its small things like opening car doors for you, moving so your on the inside of the side walk, etc

<3 THEENNNN it got to be more

<3 Like not letting you do things by yourself sometimes cause he is afraid of you getting hurt

<3 Cause after night eye died he was scared he was going to lose you too and you are the best thing in his life

<3 So you did have to ease him out of that and show him that you are strong and can also take care of yourself

<3 I saw that you have curly hair(twin) so obviously he has to do you hair

<3 Has the step by step down to a t

<3 Learns how to do certain braids and up-dos for dates

<3 Sometimes won’t even let you do his hair

Drabble:

You were waiting at the Zoo entrance for Mirio, looking at the time on your phone seeing how late he is, 10 minutes. He isn’t usually this late for dates so you start to get worried and send him a quick text

Jozi: Hey Mimi(funny nickname I thought of) I jus wnted to know ur eta to the zoo

Mimi<33: Hi sweetheart sorry for the hold up I had to get my surprise for you

Jozi: A surprise??

You turned your phone off again and started pondering what the surprise could be. You didn’t ask for anything recently? So you’re left curious what Mirios gift could actually be. About 5 minutes go by and you see Mirios' car pull up and park near the entrance you were standing at. As you look over there you see a flash white get out the backseat, then you see Mirio get out of the driver's side and lift this blob of white up into his arms. He is walking closer and you see that it's actually Eri! You look at Mirio confused for a second before he pulls you in with his free arm and kisses the top of your head “Hi my sweets” he says into your hair “I'm sorry for taking so long, Eri’s babysitter canceled on her so she is our plus one today” he looked down at her and smiled, and then looked back at you “If that’s ok with you?”. You looked at both of them and then started to smile softly at them “Yea, it's ok”. Mirio turns to Eri and motions her to you, “Hey Eri this is my girlfriend Jozi, she's super nice and so much fun to hang out with, and I think you two are going to be the bestest of friends” He said with smile that could save anyone just from looking at it. Eri looks at you and then with her other hand takes yours and starts to hold it “Do you like pandas?”.

(Authors Note: Im so sorry this out so late, my life has been uber busy right now:(! But I hope you enjoy it<3)

[vintageshanny]

Officer Presley and the Librarian - Part 11 - Beyond a Reasonable Doubt

Content: Fluffy smut, smutty fluff, mention of side effects from medication, mention of pregnancy, 18+

This picks up right after the last chapter in fall of 1974. Catch up here:

Officer Presley and the Librarian series

You woke up the morning after Elvis’ karate demonstration to a cold spot next to you in the bed and a low voice murmuring from across the room where the door to the bathroom was slightly ajar. You didn’t want to intrude but also wanted to make sure everything was okay, so you slipped out of bed, shivering in your thin nightgown, and tiptoed across the room, your bare toes sinking into the plush carpet. Holding your breath the best you could, you leaned in to hear the hushed conversation Elvis was having on the phone.

“No, ya need to find somethin’ else, I ain’t takin’ this one…no, I don’ wanna do that…cuz I’m gettin’ married in a few days an’ my dick ain’t workin’ right!” his voice suddenly raised in frustration. “I-I-I don’ care that I’m almost 40, that’s not the reason!” He paused and then continued quietly again. “It’s been great, man, I’ll tell ya for sure, like a 20-year-old again, and all of a sudden this mornin’ I got nothin’ cuz of this stupid medication…”

You quietly hurried back to bed and pulled the covers over yourself, knowing Elvis would feel embarrassed to have you listen in about his health problems. You’d noticed, of course, that he was taking quite a few medications and had pill bottles lining the bathroom counter, but he always told you it was nothing for you to be worried about. For all his vulnerability in your most intimate moments, you sensed there were certain things he didn’t really want to be pushed on. You wished he would just let you help shoulder his burdens.

You closed your eyes and tried to breathe evenly as he came out of the bathroom and shuffled slowly across the room, wincing the slightest bit each time he had to put pressure on his bandaged toe. “Baby? You ‘wake?” he whispered softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Or should I say babies?” he added, a crooked grin dragging one side of his mouth upward. You gave a little yawn and rubbed your eyes, hoping he’d believe that you’d still been asleep. He had a hint of suspicion on his face but just rubbed his knuckles tenderly against your cheek. “Ya hungry, sweetheart?” You turned your head to nip at his fingers. “Hungry for you, baby,” you teased, reaching over to brush your fingertips lightly over the fly of his silky pajama bottoms.

Elvis caught your hand in his and moved it to the side, clearing his throat nervously. “Uh, baby, I-I-I think we should e-e-eat first,” he stuttered out. “It’s okay if he’s not ready yet, I can help-” you started to offer as you reached back toward his lap, but Elvis interrupted, his eyes turning stormy. “W-w-were ya listenin’ in on my phone conversation? That was private!” You could feel your eyes welling up as you bit down on your lip nervously. “I’m sorry, baby, I just overheard what you were saying and then I wanted to try to help make you feel better about it,” you explained, still fighting back the tears.

Elvis’ face softened as he pulled you into a hug. “H-h-honey, don’ c-c-cry, ‘s okay,” he murmured into your hair as he held you against his chest. “I-I-I jus’ feel kinda embarrassed ‘bout it, I guess.” You buried your face in the hair escaping from his pajama top and kissed his soft skin. “Elvis, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.” “W-well, I w-w-wanna take care of ya, like a real man, I have ta satisfy my baby.” You could hear the nervous pounding of his heart as he tried to explain, his stutter coming out stronger than usual. “Baby, you always satisfy me,” you said softly as you slipped your hand into his and gave it a little squeeze. “And there’s proof of you being a real man growing right here,” you looked happily down at your belly, and a faint smile crossed his face.

“I think you’ve been stressing yourself out too much, and that’s just adding to you not feeling right. Why don’t you take off your pajamas and lay down and let me give you a massage?” you whispered, giving another kiss to that enticing triangle of chest that was peeking out. “Oh, naw, baby, I don’ want ya lookin’ at me when I can’t perform for ya,” he said, a blush creeping over his exquisite features. “I know you’re used to having to perform all the time, but you don’t have to do that for me,” you said, looking directly into his deep blue eyes. “I love you exactly the way you are. Now let me relax you, I can feel how tense you are,” you ran your hands over his strong shoulders.

“Okay, mama,” he relented with a little sigh. Then he looked up shyly and half-whispered, “Can ya turn around while I get undressed?” Knowing what a big deal it was for him to feel so vulnerable, you didn’t push him on this sweet, strange request, as if you’d never seen him naked before. You just stood and turned your back until he told you he was ready. When you turned back around, he was lying on his stomach with the sheet pulled up to his lower back. You tried to ignore the tingle you got from seeing the way the sheet draped itself perfectly over his round, muscular butt. You climbed up on the bed and hiked your nightgown up a little bit so you could straddle his back.

Elvis let out a low groan as you massaged his shoulders and started working your way down his back. You leaned down to kiss an old acne scar and heard a soft contented sigh escape his lips. “You were right, sweetheart, I really needed this,” he breathed out as you continued to knead your hands down his back, pressing soft little kisses to each blemish and freckle on the way. You slowly pulled the sheet down lower, glad that he didn’t protest, your nether region clenching at the sight of his bare, sculpted backside. He stayed relaxed as you worked on the muscles there, but you couldn’t resist a little taste of him. As you gently parted his cheeks and slipped your tongue into the crease, he moaned out loudly and tensed a little bit, his thigh twitching underneath where your arm rested on it. “Sorry, I just wanted to give some attention to every part of you,” you soothed as you rubbed his hips and he settled back into a relaxed state.

He continued to release little moans as you rubbed down his legs. The wiry little hairs tickled your lips as you kissed his upper thigh. Massaging all the way down to his calves, you could feel the desire mounting in your core. Your hormones seemed to be in overdrive lately, but you tried to stay focused on keeping Elvis relaxed. Once you reached his ankles, you gave the bottom of his foot a little tickle, causing him to squeal out with laughter. “Mmm thank ya, honey, that was really nice.” “I’m not done yet, it’s time to turn over,” you said, giving him a nudge. Elvis sighed a little bit but didn’t argue as he rolled over onto his back and rested his hands behind his head, trying to fight the shame of having his softness exposed to you so openly.

You picked up his foot and massaged it before kissing his bandaged big toe. “Poor widdle baby, we gotta get your toesies awl better,” you whispered in baby talk. “Will mommy kiss my widdle sooties?” Elvis responded with a cute chuckle. You kissed each of his other toes and continued your journey upward. You could feel Elvis’ whole body trembling as your massaging hands approached his beautiful manhood. Your fingers traced through his pubic hair, across the seam of his balls, and danced over his velvety soft foreskin with the lightest of touches. Little Elvis twitched just the tiniest bit but stayed covered in his warm blanket. You gave him a little kiss and leaned your cheek against him as you whispered, “I think you’re just perfect. You get all the rest you need.” Despite his embarrassment from this whole situation, Elvis let out one of his deep rumbling laughs. “Sweetheart, are ya whisperin’ sweet nothings to my dick right now?” You blushed and smiled. “Well, he deserves to hear it. He worked so hard to give us a family.” Elvis smiled and pulled you up close to him, your arms wrapped around his broad hairy chest, the soft swell of his belly calling out for your loving caress. “I s’pose he did.” He looked at you, suddenly overcome with emotion, his eyes brimming with tears. “I love ya so much, baby.” “I love you too, my sweet man,” you leaned down and kissed his perfectly sloped nose. “Do you feel more relaxed?” He nodded and then grinned slyly. “Okay, woman, ya had your fun, now let me take care of ya.”

“Baby you don’t have to-” you tried to protest but he put a finger to your lips. “Honey, I could feel ya gettin’ wet when you were sittin’ on my back. I know ya need to be taken care of. Let me do this. Take your panties off and come sit here on my face,” he instructed with a big smile. “Okay daddy,” you whispered, suddenly feeling bashful. “Oh, look who’s blushin’ now,” Elvis teased as you removed your panties and pulled your nightgown up around you so you could lower yourself over his face. He wasted no time in licking your soft wet folds, making you whimper immediately. You gripped the headboard for balance as he used his long fingers to spread you open and dip his tongue inside you over and over again, occasionally moving his lips to suck on your clit while he penetrated you with his fingers, hitting that magical spot. “Oh, God, Elvis,” you moaned out, looking down at where his face was getting slick from all of your arousal. “Mmm,” he groaned right into your pussy, the vibrations sending you over the edge. “You taste so good, baby,” he mumbled as he licked the cum off of you, your thighs trembling on either side of his head.

Once you stopped shaking and caught your breath, Elvis helped you move back down beside him, snuggled into his chest, your favorite spot to be. “You always take such good care of me,” you said as you tenderly wiped his face with the bedsheet. “You weren’t the only one who liked it,” Elvis said, looking pleased and pointing downward. You saw Little Elvis, not fully hard, but definitely wanting to rise up for some action. “He likes it when you feel good,” Elvis said with a proud grin. “I like for him to feel good, too,” you laughed and cupped him with your hand. “Oh, baby, I can’t wait ta make ya my wife.”

As you lay together in a state of bliss, Elvis asked, “Have you told your job you’re not coming back yet?” Your heart dropped a little bit as you admitted, “Not yet.” “Well, you should do that right away, baby, they’re gonna need to find someone amazing to replace you,” he smiled over at you and kissed your forehead. You just nodded and wished that these nagging doubts would go away once and for all. You hadn’t actually had a discussion about quitting your job, but it didn’t surprise you that he expected it now. As you felt Elvis’ chest rise and fall underneath your head and thought about all the love he’d shown you and how much he’d let his own guard down, you decided you should have no more doubts. You loved him completely and eternally.

Tag list: : @be-my-ally @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @powerofelvis @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @doll-elvis @artlover8992 @richardslady121 @everythingelvispresley @raginginkedslut @msamarican @pebbles403

[dollygirl808]

A Dead Man's Home

Childhood best friend! Simon "Ghost" Riley x Nurse!OC Ava

(Emotional, hurt/comfort, injury, breaking and entering, angst? Romance? Kinda.)

While this story is SFW, please be respectful and know that my blog as a whole is not, and is 18+ only. It's also possible that if I make this a series it'll contain smut. Thanks!

Big Masterlist

Ava gasped, falling back into the door she just closed as she saw him- just sitting there, apparently napping. Naturally, she screamed.

The man startled awake, a gun appearing in his hands as he shot up straight and pointed the gun at her, pretty blue eyes meeting hers. And then he relaxed, dropped the gun which bounced off the cushion and skittered under her coffee table. The masked man leaned back on her couch, hissing under his breath and pressing his hand into his side, which was currently bleeding through his black shirt.

There was a nice black leather jacket thrown over her dining chair, and a pair of heavy black combat boots that she almost tripped over.

"What're ya screaming for?" He asked, grimacing when speaking agitated his injuries. "Jus' me, love," He told her like it was obvious, thick British accent making her head reel. First his eyes- so familiar yet so different. Then his voice.

"W-what?" She took a stuttering breath, feeling her knees grow weak as she stared at the man currently bleeding out on her couch.

Then, slowly so as to not cause too much pain, he lifted his hand and peeled away the torn, bloodsoaked balaclava and revealed his face. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

"Si.." The tears welled up immediately, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as her voice trailed off. She felt rooted to the spot, unable to take a single step closer. His face is plenty recognizable in the dark of her apartment anyways, and there was a little light peering through the closed curtains.

Whatever face she's making must be ugly, twisted in disbelief and heartbreak and relief all rolled into one- she's always been an ugly crier, he told her so plenty of times. She must look so silly right now because he chuckled, low and deep, although the movement makes him grunt in pain again.

"Hey love," Simon rasped, chest rising with every heavy breath.

"Si... S-simon?" She asked, voice breaking off into a near silent whisper, the tears already gathering at her hand pressed to her face.

"Yeah. 'S me love,'' He told her, and that's all it took.

Ava burst into sobs, crumbling right there in her spot by the door to her knees, both hands pressed tight to muffle her opened-mouth wailing.

"Shit-" Simon cursed out, forcing himself to his feet and limping over to her. He kneeled in front of her, bruised and gloved hand hesitating before softly touching her hair like she was a wounded animal, as fragile as porcelain under his blood stained palm.

The single featherlight touch is all it took for her to throw herself at him, falling into his chest as she took them both to the ground despite his groaned protest of pain, crying into his blood-soaked shirt and clenching the fabric between his fingers like he might disappear again.

This isn't exactly what Simon expected when he came here, half delirious from blood loss, clumsily prying open her window out in the open where anyone could see. Really, she should get a security system, it was way too easy to break into her house. But that could be talked about later, after they've both calmed down and had some time to talk.

He could feel his own emotions swell, his nose and eyes burn. But he doesn't cry, no- he's far too gone for that, committed too many crimes, killed too many people. A single tear is all he allowed himself, pressing his cheek to the top of her ginger curls, letting the single droplet soak into her hair. He knows she felt it, too, but she doesn't say anything.

She's too busy cursing at him and hitting his chest and arms, and crying into his shirt and clinging to him, but she knows.

Ava sat up, half straddled over his waist from where she tackled him, cute puffy cheeks all angry and pouty as she glared down at him through teary eyes, and she slapped him. Hard, right across his face.

"You- you fucking asshole!" She sobbed, using the sleeve of her blue nurse's scrub to wipe at her teary face, but even as she tried to stop the waterworks they just kept coming.

Simon grabbed her wrists when she started pressing the heel of her palm into her eyes, pulling her hands away from her face with just one of his. His thick, scarred thumb swiped away a tear on her cheek, looking up at her with such longing as he did it. And she can't help but smile, lean into his touch as disbelieving little giggles bubbled out of her.

"I know. M' sorry Ava," He told her, voice reverent as he looked up at her as a thing to be cherished, treasured. And she was, to him. The closest thing to family he had was right here, in his arms.

"Don't Ava me!" She snapped at him, hitting at his thick muscled chest, and he let her, although it lacked any real venom or aggression. "You died! You left-!" The tears welled up again, and she hiccuped out another sob, cutting herself off.

"You left me, Si," She whimpered out, bottom lip quivering as she blinked at him through tears, fingers clenched into his black shirt again.

He swallowed thickly, barely able to meet her gaze, "I know.. 'M really sorry love." He wiped at the fresh salty tears on her face then rubbed his thumb against her cheek, and it didn't take long for her to melt into his touch again, un-clenching her hands and resting them against his middle just where his shirt was bunched up around her thick thighs.

"I missed you, so much Si- you have no idea."

"Missed you too, love," He breathed out.

Ava went to scrub at her face again with her sleeve, only to see blood on her scrubs that wasn't there before. She stared at it, blinked, then blinked again as if it would go away.

"....You're bleeding," She stated, chocolate eyes shifting from her bloodied sleeve to his face.

"Yea," He nodded once, concise, just agreeing with her statement.

They stared at each other for a moment, both silent for different reasons, Simon because he didn't have anything else to say, and Ava because she was praying for the strength not to kill him a second time and wring his neck.

She settled for smacking the side of his head before scrambling off of him, rushing to her bathroom for her first aid kit.

"Ow- what was that for?" He huffed, sitting up and dragging himself to leave back against the couch, not having the energy to stand up again.

He flinched from the bright light when she flicked on her living room switch, "For letting me squish you under me while you bled out, you moron!" She scolded him, dropping to her knees once again, this time with a white box that had the medical symbol on it.

She slapped away his hands with a click of her tongue as he tried to lift his shirt up, then pressed a thick pill into his palm and handed him her water bottle as she lifted his torn shirt for him, gingerly unwrapping his hastily-done bandaging.

"What'dya do that for anyways?" She glanced up at him as she tore open a disinfectant wipe, just to be safe. As he was about to speak she pressed it to his wounds, making him hiss out in pain. It brought a small little smile to her face.

"Little sadist," He sighed fondly, "Did it cause I missed you," He smiled softly at her despite her sadistic little revenge, eyelids all droopy as he leaned his head back against the couch cushion.

It made her heart skip a beat again, her breath stutter as she prepared her suture needle and thread. "What're you looking at me like that for?" She huffed out, tucking her chin to her chest as she stared pointedly at his wound instead of him.

"Like what love?" He asked, tilting his head to the side to look at her more.

"Like you're about to bleed out, that's what you big brute." She fished out her phone from her pocket, tossing it at him.

"You'd never let me bleed out love," He teased with a charming smile, somehow still managing to be stupidly attractive even with blood splattered on his face. He caught her phone easily, and raised an eyebrow at her in the form of a question.

"Use the flash, can't see shit on the floor," She told him, and set her emergency kit on between his legs as she half laid over his lap and half on the floor to get a better angle.

"Don't know yer code, love," He turned the phone to face her so she could unlock it.

"It's the date you told me you were joining the military." He hummed, barely noticeable pause before turning it back to face him as he put the date in- he remembered of course, the first time he broke her heart, when he said he'd be gone for months on end, only coming back every once in a while.

So, she spent the next hour properly patching him up, plucking him in the thigh or stomach whenever he let the light move. There were only two wounds that needed to be stitched, one gnarly jagged tear across his side that she couldn't even make a guess as to where it came from, and the other on his thigh, dangerously close to the femoral artery.

The rest of his wounds are mostly big, ugly bruises that must hurt like a bitch, and possibly a few broken ribs. When she tried to make him go to the hospital he put his foot down and refused.

"Simon," Ava sighed out, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I just don't understand, you could be seriously hurt, I'm not a doctor, I can't diagnose you," She told him, exasperated.

He sighed as well, blinking slowly at her. "Love- I'm dead. Y'remember that, don't ya?" He asked, poking his thick finger at the dog tags around her neck, the ones with his name on it, "Can't go to the hospital. They'll find my death certificate and it'll cause trouble."

Her face softened into a mournful little smile, the stinging of oncoming tears making her lip quiver again at the memory. It nearly made the corner of his lips quirk up in a smile, that was a trait from their childhood that he missed seeing. She always looked so cute like that, cheeks all puffed out, nose red with her bottom lip in a pout.

"I just... don't want you to die on me again, Si," She murmured, curling her legs under her as she scooted closer to him on the couch.

"You won't love, promise," He vowed to her, his expression almost adoring as he stroked his thumb over her cheekbone, then his hand fell down to her neck and slid into the hairs at the back of her neck.

"C'mere," Simon pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her as she buried her face in one of his old shirts, the gray fabric stretched thinly over his thick muscled form, barely fitting him anymore.

When she handed it to him with a defiant blush, she threatened to kick him in the ribs if he ruined her favorite sleeping shirt. He huffed a laugh into her hair at the memory, and she nuzzled closer, burying her nose into his scent. Even if it was tainted by bloodshed and gunpowder, it was still him underneath it all. Her Simon.

---

Ava felt herself drifting off, when suddenly her world shifted as Simon hauled her up into his arms bridal style, making her squeak at him indignantly to be put down.

"I just stitched you up, you stray mutt!" She hissed at him, heat rising to her cheeks, "I'm too heavy and you're too injured to be carrying me Si!"

"Yer not," He rolled his eyes like what she said was a ridiculous, unfounded rumor with no truth to it, a smirk tilting the corner of his mouth, "Now where's yer bedroom?"

A furious blush spread across her face, "Put me down!" She wriggled like a worm on a hook to get out of his grasp, but despite having to limp from his injury and likely having a few broken ribs, he didn't so much as falter in his hold on her. In fact, he completely ignored her as he began limping down a hallway in search of his current objective.

"Stop squirmin'. Won't help you," He chuckled, amused as he opened a door, found it to be a bathroom and kept looking.

Ava whined, pushing her face into his shoulder, "This is humiliating Si," She mumbled.

"Love, 'S just us. Now are ya gunna hide or help me?" He prompted, tilting his head to look down at her with his pretty blue eyes.

She pouted, and refused to look at him as she pointed to the slightly ajar door of her bedroom. The man just hummed in acknowledgment and limped his way over, pushing open the door as they shuffled through, and he sat with her in his arms still.

When she squirmed and complained, he graciously allowed her to sit on his lap instead. "D'ya work tomorrow?"

She shook her head, "No, thankfully. I have the weekend off."

"Good," He sighed out, and promptly fell back onto the bed. "Let's sleep in tomorrow."

She had gotten changed into a t-shirt and shorts earlier when she let him borrow- or have, his old shirt back. And he was just wearing that and the boxers he wore when he came in, his pants being ripped and blood-soaked. As well as uncomfortable for sleeping in.

She crawled off of him, careful not to put any pressure on his wounds, and laid down as she usually would, covered pulled up to her chin.

"I never consented to you sleeping in my bed," She told him.

Simon cracked an eye open, looking over at her, "Want me to sleep on the couch, love?"

Ava pursed her lips, glancing away before looking back at him, "No," She admitted, voice quiet. He hummed again. He did that a lot, actually.

"You can cuddle with me.. I guess."

He smiled, "Thanks love."

It took him a few more minutes to move again, thoroughly exhausted, but eventually he dragged himself next to her under the covers, his least injured arm tucked under her head with his other wrapped around her soft stomach from behind, pulling her into his chest with only a small squeak of protest.

He pressed his nose into the nape of her neck, taking a deep breath filled with her smell, forehead pressed against her curls up in a bun. "Missed you," He mumbled against her neck, voice filled with warmth and pure adoration. Her breath hitched.

"I- missed you too," She told him back shakily. It was hard to keep her composure when he used that tone with her, so raw and exalting, hot against her skin.

"G'night love," Simon whispered into her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the skin there.

She breathed deeply, closing her eyes, trying to will her heartbeat to slow down, "Goodnight Simon.”

---

Thee end, that's all for now. Idk if ill write more because I wasn't supposed to start any new series bc I have too many in a cod fandom alone (7 now if you include this one) but you can have it and enjoy!

Taglist: @cringeycookies

[abbysbasement]

i want to run my pussy on abby's hammer like a cat in heat i need her to make fun of me i want to suck on her tongue spit everywhere i do not care amen

AN; this is that shit that makes you embarrassed to look at mirrors after you write it. I gotta go... repently shamefully for this... if you know what I mean.

content tags: MEAN dom!Abby, assplay, object insertion (r!receiving, anal, yeah...) spanking (r!receiving), degradation (abs calls the reader whore, slut, bitch, etc.) , humiliation, name calling, affectionate pet name used in mean ways, mindbreak if u squint and tilt your head, strap on penetration (r!receiving), messy/dirty sex? public sex, nobody walks in but reader has thoughts about if someone did. spit kink but not in the mouth. abby and the reader and kinda nasty dirty and unhinged but are deeply in love and there IS aftercare!! started as an informal headcannon, somehow we got to paragraphs and thousand-word counds

WC: 3.1k

proofread?: yes \ no \ barely

tl;dr: abby sluts you out for being bad, you become very well-acquainted with a hammer.

just want u to know that you’re sick (lovingly) and I had to get in peak porn writing position to pump out this reply… no pun intended.

first of all we would have to fight over the hammer but that’s neither here nor there let’s unpack mean, condescending dom abby who loves to tease and make u cry.

I know I said Abby wouldn’t like fucking in public but I also love going back on my word and maybe this is one of those times where she gets super frustrated with you and decides to take u down a peg. she’s forever the doting, loving girlfriend but she knows she’s created a spoiled brat, nd sometimes u just push her too far; running your mouth too fucking much, using your body to rile her up right before her next assignment, and leaving her high and dry, the way you flaunt everything around the stadium, traipsing around in short little skirts, or a paper-thin button up, the hard baby buds of your nipples greeting everyone you talked to. hell, even the one time she caught you going commando at your job, flashing her little slips of your wet pussy as you passed her items over the consignment desk.

if you wanted to be a loose, disrespectful whore, she could play that game too. if she had to punish you into being good for her again, it was a low price to pay.

she’d tell you she had something to show you in the woods outside the stadium, ‘just something for you and me, mouse.’ of course, she’d give you one last chance to make it up to her, to prove that you’re good. but you’re too cocky, wandering hands trailing over her skin, down her chest, cupping that space between her thighs to feel the fat strap she was packing, just for you. Feigning dropping something on the ground to grind your hips against that hard, imposing bulge. She’d play nice, just for a second, looking down at you from your place on your knees. You had that innocent face plastered on, the slightest pull of a smirk playing at the corner of your mouth.

“hi, mam-“ you started, but she shushed you, instead using her palm to push up your head gently, the telltale sign of your favourite ritual. you opened your mouth hungrily, fanning out your tongue in that pliant, pretty way that she loved, letting her know you were all hers. For a second, it softened her; you, happily on your knees, that look of sheer devotion painting your face, waiting to be molded, created in her image. but it was never that easy, and you recoiled as a heavy spray of saliva drenched your face, sticking to your skin and dribbling from your stuck-together lashes. You blinked it back, vision obscured, hands moving away to wipe it causing a filthy smear on your visage.

Your play at aloofness was the last straw, and you found hard fingers tangling their way into your hair and forcing you down in a different position, the pit of her lips and her hot breath beating the side of your face.

“you take me for a fucking joke, cunt?”

“No mama, never— jus’ playin’ a little bit—“

you’d pout, craning your neck to look at her through fluttered lashes and teary eyes. Her jaw was clenched tight, forcing her words through gritted teeth. Eyes dark and predatory, looking over you like a piece of meat. A trail of fear cobbled down your spine and Abby walked it, shoving your mid back down to get you exactly how she wanted you. You were arched up with your tummy and breasts pressed down into the grass, the soft globes of your soft, plentiful ass poking from your flipped-over skirt, knees scuffed by the soil. you were sure that your face was caked with mud or would be. Your cunny wet your panties easily from the excitement of it all, dripping from that pit of terror and sheer animalistic arousal that only Abby, your one true owner could unlock. The slick ran down your thighs, filthy little drips painting your skin that made her own cunt boil internally. From below, you could see the woman who towered over you crack a crooked smile.

There she was.

“Didn’t I say that if you make it hard for me, I’ll make it hard for you?”

You nodded, silently, shamefully. Abby was cruel, palming your ass violently, kneading it, a rage that had been simmering for weeks boiling over in one moment, and you were the frog who didn’t notice the temperature rising until it was too late. “Better brace yourself, dumb fuckin’ whore.”

You wanted to press your luck. to tease just a bit harder, to say ‘for what?’ with the hopes she’d squirm, get out of her body a bit, see if you could brat your way into getting just a little bit more. But before you could open your mouth to let out a cheeky quip, a sound something like the swing of a knife in the wind cut through the silence, and a forgiveless, merciless blow dented your little ass. Your body shot forward against your will, every muscle in those damned delicious arms working overtime to knock you off balance. You knew you were severely fucked, that Abs would have you walking funny for days after how you behaved, that she had no plans of going easy on you.

“Mam- mommy, mommy,” you started, babbling like a fool, nose running and mouth awash with drool as you took your punishment, warm flesh being peppered with harsh smacks that reddened your beloved dom’s palm and indented your skin with hot spiderwebs. She didn’t respond, but you could hear heavy breaths and grunts of exertion pushing out of her nostrils. Your pussy was still leaking, panties nearly translucent from how ruined the fabric was. she was sure to leave a couple of blows there, too, your bitty clitty fighting its way out of its cloak of protection, unwittingly making it a prime target for the abuse your ass was under.

The cloth was removed from you, and abby silently marveled at your redness, the juiciness of your drooling snatch, and how your nub pulsated like it had its own mini heartbeat. she gripped it best she could, wetness making her fingers slip before she could catch good traction, and pulling the bundle of nerves towards her slightly. You were squeaking, moaning, guttural, and animalistic as you fucked your hips in her direction, the pinned hands still captured in her large fist slapping and clawing at any flesh it could find, even the still sensitive globes of your asscheeks. “Ple— fuck, please mama, be niceeee.”

“Fuck are you crying for? You’re a fucking faucet down here, we both know you need this.” water from your eyes dripped down, inky black marks rolling over your nose and into the dirt beneath you, marring your pretty face. your pussy was drooling though, and the rough treatment was exactly what you had been needing. she was always too busy with patrols, or supply runs, or any of the stupid vanity projects Isaac would spring on her at the drop of a hat. she’d feel remorseful about it, trying to placate you at night with lazy rubs to your clit or skating her tongue through your slit, but it wasn’t enough, and all you needed was to get taken down the way you deserved.

like this.

“open up those legs.” she said it like you had a choice, ha. “needa get you ready to take my cock. I mean, that is what you came out here for, right?” you wanted to say a lot, yes mommy, I’m a whore, yes mommy, I’m addicted to your dick, yes mommy, I’m a needy cockslut who has to have it every night lest I lose my fucking mind. but you were already gone; already in that soft, stupid, braindead space where you happily existed as her favourite hole and nothing more, so all you could do was force a weak nod.

but that wasn’t enough for mommy, never enough for mommy. her disapproval came down in the form of her hard, dirty boot on your ass, jostling you, enough to shock you back to life and give you a little scare, but enough to not hurt her baby too bad, because that was unforgivable. she angled her knee over, the tread gripping your ass and splitting your lips apart to reveal the ruby red of your hidden jewel. you could hear the telltale flick and jingle of her utility belt flipping open. there was only a second to exist in confusion before you hissed, keening unintentionally at the feeling of cold metal persisting against those red-hot folds between your thighs.

It was… whatever it was, but it drove you insane; slight bumps, divots, irregularities working every moan and scream out of you, tapping you like a leaky faucet as Abby tormented your hole. That damned work boot kept you open as she took her time, sometimes dipping the unknown attacker into your hole only to let it pop out as she fucked her arm back and forth, up and down, veins pulsing from the exertion. You were insane, fully broken without even feeling her cock in you, being painfully teased, barely fucked with the cold steel she had summoned.

She had fucked you with a lot; grinding on her pistol while she raked the clip through your hole, some shitty keepsake Issac had gotten her to celebrate her first 100 confirmed kills that was just the right size and girth for an anal dildo. fuck, even detached the quiver of her crossbow so that you could grind and get off like a good little girl in the front of the Jeep while she filled up the boot after a supply run.

But you couldn’t pick this one.

Abs was always good to you, a little mean sometimes, but this was just another way she was good to you, devoted to making your slut pussy feel the way it needed to. She was mean, however, when she left you empty and whimpering at the lack of stimulation as she pulled her arm away, dropping her foot and leaning over you as she brought the weapon of m(ass) destruction to your face. “you run that fuckin’ mouth enough, can use it for useful shit too, right?” She started, rough and imposing. “Get your new friend nice and clean for mommy.”

it was… a ball-peen hammer, flat on one side, rounded and fat on the other, and dripping with your nectar from end to end. You shuddered with excitement. She was so fucking dirty, so fucking sick for this, and you were impossibly turned on by it. you needed more. Your lips formed an O instantly, taking the less girthy head into your mouth, moaning at the taste of your own sinful juices coating your tongue. if anyone came upon this sight, if a passing group of scars came by and blew your head off, It didn’t matter, nothing mattered right now, the two of you could get ambushed at that very moment, and you would die happily as mommy’s perfectly debased whore.

she released the grip on your arms, pulling your head up by your hair to fit more of the tool in your waiting, happy mouth. you lapped it all, wetness leaking down your neck and between your pert breasts. Your saliva ran lengthwise down the handle, Abby’s palms being coated in the slick, drippy and sticky. You whined as she took it back, pouting immediately with disappointment. you could hear something muttered, a nonchalant ‘calm the fuck down’ and then the telltale drag of zipper teeth as Abby forced her cock free, dragging the fat head through your folds.

“Want me, mouse?” she said, tone almost sweet again as she fucked slightly into your waiting pussy, just the tip and nothing more. It was almost enough to make the waterworks start again, what felt like hours of evil teasing, toying around with your body like it was a game. She slipped in deeper, then pulled the sheathed inches completely out, biting the fat of her bottom lip as the diamond lines of your wetness stayed connected in thin air. you were fucking gorgeous, and she could take you right here and now, give you all the dick you needed, and melt your brain until you needed to be carried home.

But she wanted to drag it all out, wanted this to be the punishment. You could take all of the receiving, even if the cruel and unusual, but the anticipation, the not having is what killed you; and she knew which ticks would force you to lose it.

you were stumbling, babbling, everything swimming through your head too fast. Your exploited cunny was pulsating, the air blowing between your netherlips making everything so much more sensitive, making your brain even foggier. A thick, adept thumb flattened against your folds, dipping in to collect some of the sacred liquid and smearing it against your inner thigh. Her fingers drummed the fat of your butt impatiently. “So you’re gonna make me take you home? That what you want?”

“No!” You shrieked, on the verge of tantruming. It was too much, enough to wake you up, at attention and ready to take what she was willing to give. “No, no, I mean— want you! need you mama. So bad.” You swirled your hips around for emphasis, grinding against nothing, searching for anything to put out the fire she set inside of you. “On your elbows for me, then.” She said, waiting for you to comply in order to drop your head back down. She hummed in appreciation at your unwavering obedience, enjoying how much you were willing to degrade yourself for this, before she spread open your pussy lips and bottomed out all at once. “Goood fuckin girl, Mouse.”

The fire never got put out, it was quite the opposite, as though your whole body was alight from each nerve ending as she pounded into you with that body made of sheer muscle. She pressed forward, repositioning you with no hands and deepening your arch until she had the proper leverage to hit that fucking spot. She grabbed your hand from behind, guiding you to split your own pussy apart for better access.

Abby loved you for shit like this, how you clenched as you approached a peak, how that sloppy white ring would collect on the blue of her dick. You needed to be fucked like this, to be reminded what happens when toys step out of line and give their owners problems, and she had no qualms with destroying your brain and rebuilding it piece by piece. She could die in this pussy.

Another bead of spit rained against you, a large gob deep in your asshole. She worked you, effortlessly, snapping her hips to batter your cunt every time, using you completely for her twisted desires, moving to slip her thumb into the taut ring for a better grip. You were on cloud nine, barely forming words, sounding like you were speaking in code. Just loud, loose moans ringing from your throat. Yeah, you were sure you’d have to get put on recess for a couple of days to survive the mental effects of this cock.

“Relax for me, babe.” she whispered, softly and sweetly removing her thumb from your tightest hole before the sensation was replaced with something larger, more foreign, cold and hard, and —shiiittt

Abigail Anderson was a fucking crazy person, pushing the ball tip of the hammer into your quivered hole, letting the handle rest on your back as she continued destroying you with no mercy. “Aww, my lil’ Mousey got her very own tail.” She teased, jiggling your ass with her free hand as she watched the brown handle tap against your back in time with her thrusts. You whimpered, and she wrenched your head back up with a firm palm on your neck to meet your eyes. “When Mommy tells a joke, Mousey fuckin’ laughs, right?” She growled into your ear, punctuating her anger with a harsh slap to your already bruised ass and a rough thrust, pounding your secret spot and sending you closer and closer to your orgasm.

You tried to force a giggle, but the sensations from your battered pussy warped the sound into a ragged moan, and you tried to whine, beg, sputter your way into her favour. All you could manage was the stupid repetition of ‘Mousey has a tail, Mousey has a tail!’ until it broke down into just ‘tailtailtailtailfuckkinnnntail’ and until that melted into nothing, just a cheap sob and a scream running through the forest as your orgasm ran through you in the form of floor-sprinkling rivulets and a clench around mommy’s cock.

You wanted to fall but she wouldn’t let you, wanted to cry but she didn’t let you, and then, everything was gone and she was around you, strong arms holding you up, steady hands wiping the dirt from your face, soft lips kissing you everywhere in spite of the dirt on your face. “Got you, Mouse. You’re okay, you’re with me.” She whispered, running a reassuring palm through your hand, moving down to massage the back of your neck.

“Wanna lay down?” She said, motioning to her pack. She always brought a blanket, clean clothes for you, water, snacks, her gun, so that you would never have to hold one with her around. She tried her best to unfurl the fabric with one hand, laying you down and wiping through your poor, swollen kitten with a cloth damp from her canteen. She redressed you, fresh panties, one of her tee-shirts, tented by the hard pebbles of your nipples sticking out. She spread out next to you, letting you find your way to the crook of her neck, to that chest-to-chest position you loved because you could feel her heartbeat like it was yours. she still loved you, of course, would kiss your cheeks and soothe the bruises she left behind and remind you what you have is a forever thing, but that sometimes you need the bad with the good. You were such a bad girl, too whiny and needy for your own good, a spoiled little monster *she* created, but she loved you because of it.

Yeah, she fucking loved you.

[woooyeahbaby]

a morning with kaveh (ft. alhaitham)

kaveh x gn!reader

warnings: swearing (reader says shit), reader jokingly hints at going to cheat with alhaitham?? idk they just say he looks nice n’ it bothers kaveh, i’m tired and kinda forget what kaveh is like so possible ooc kaveh?

a/n: good morning i love kaveh sm (also if anyone is seeing this from search or whatever if you like my writing i take requests please request please put your hands in the bars of my enclosure)

waking up next to kaveh is beautiful. the large, colourful blanket that he’d picked out for your bed splayed over his body, all the way up to his chest. you could see his collarbone gently poking from his skin, in the spots that his long blonde hair wasn’t covering, that is.

speaking of his hair, it looks absolutely gorgeous in the orange glow of the sun peeking through the curtains. not to mention his brown eyelashes! you could even see a few faint freckles across his face in the lighting.

his pink lips look gorgeous, yet dry. you should probably remind him to put on some chapstick once he wakes up. or maybe you could put some on, and share it with him through a kiss. you smile at the thought.

you glance at the clock, seeing what time it was. nine am, on the dot.. ah, it’s saturday, alhaitham is home. probably awake already, sipping coffee and reading some book. maybe you should wait to wake kaveh up? no, he needs to wake up eventually…

you place a hand on his shoulder, softly grazing it along his arm. up, down, circles on his bicep.. not working.

“kaveh,” you mutter. “gotta wake up.”

he whines, hearing you, but not quite registering what you said. he flips his body so he’s on his back, placing the arm you were stroking to his side. now his chest is fully revealed, and you know how sensitive he is when you touch him there.

you place a hand on his chest, gliding it across wherever you wanted. he takes a deep breath, opening his ruby eyes slightly to glare at you. he may be beautiful when he’s sleeping, but he isn’t quite as graceful when waking up.

“lemme sleep, please..” kaveh mumbles, shutting his eyes again.

“alhaitham is up, he’ll be upset if you sleep too much longer. how ‘bout i make you some coffee, hm?” you ask, still rubbing circles on his chest.

“fine.” he nods gently. so cute. you think.

after looking at your gorgeous boyfriend for a few seconds longer, you decide to finally get up from your bed. you get dressed, then brush your hair once you get over to you and kaveh’s vanity.

you exit the bedroom, making your way to the kitchen. you see alhaitham at the counter, seemingly making his second cup of coffee.

“oh, good morning, y/n.” alhaitham greets you, a soft smile on his face.

“good morning! kaveh’ll be up in a bit, he’s being stubborn.” you giggle.

“of course he is.” he chuckles a little, sighing. “i’ll be in the living room.”

you nod, proceeding with making your boyfriends coffee as your housemate exits.

once it’s prepared, just how he likes it, you return to your bedroom, seeing that he’d gone right back to sleep.. of course.

“kaveh, your coffee.” you say loudly, placing your hand on your hip.

“jus’ come cuddle…” kaveh groans.

“i’d love to, but no. come on, get up.” you’re starting to get a little annoyed, despite how adorable he was being. still, no response from kaveh. “alhaitham is looking reaaaaal nice today..”

“i’m up!” he darts up, messy blonde hair falling over his shoulders. “you always say that to get me up!”

“because it works, now get dressed. and put on some chapstick.” you remember your thought from earlier.

“yeah, yeah…” he mutters, doing as he’s told.

you walk out of the bedroom, cup still in hand. you go to the living room, sitting next to alhaitham and placing the mug on the table.

“have you brushed your teeth yet?” the grey haired man asks, not looking away from his book.

“oh, shit.” you stand right back up, heading for the washroom.

you brush your teeth, hoping that by the time you’re done kaveh will be in the living room. once you’re done, you make your way back to the living room.

“would you please tell him to put a shirt on?” alhaitham sighs, looking at you with an exhausted expression.

yeah, kaveh was shirtless. it didn’t bother you, of course, and neither did it bother alhaitham, you knew that. so you didn’t know why he was asking this, but because he’s the one letting you and your boyfriend stay here, you agree to help him.

“kaveh! shirt!” you shout, sounding like you’re commanding a dog.

he sighs loudly, stomping back to the bedroom. a few seconds after, he walks back out, his casual white shirt now covering him.

“archons, you’re weird.” you roll your eyes, sitting back on the couch.

“you love me.” he mumbles, taking a sip of his coffee.

[teknikolor-walters]

This has a cut on it because it's REALLY self indulgent and I'm embarrassed<3 also it's kinda long. But whatever cowboy wives be upon ye

"Fuck-! God, Bug, what the hell?"

Bug didn't say anything. Everything was happening too fast. Cassie was covered in blood and so were their hands (the hands holding the calculator) and their face was bloody and it hurt. Everything smelled like blood.

"Jesus Christ, I think you broke my nose. What's wrong with you? I've housed you for three years now, and this is how you repay me? A broken nose? Fuck you."

"I'm- I'm sorry- I'm sorry, Cassie, I didn't mean to- My- my face hurts and you charged at me- I panicked-"

"I don't CARE about your sob story, Bug. I'm not letting you leave me like this. And for what? People that don't even love you? Don't be ridiculous."

"Cassie, please-"

"Please what? Let you abandon me here? Let you waltz off to your partners without a care in the world as I tend to a broken fucking nose?"

"I don't- I- I'll come back, Cassie, I'll come back for you. Okay?"

"Bullshit."

Bug knew Cassie was right. He also knew that he couldn't stay here and his face hurt in the same way that it did when Ty would punish him.

"I love you Cassie. I really do."

"I love you too, Bug, that's why you need to stay-"

The time travel hurt more than it usually did.

---

"Hey, Fox, C'mere." Jessie kissed her wife quickly on the cheek. "Ah'm sure it's gon' be ok. Ah'm sure wherever our Bug is, they're doin' alright. They're real resilient, y'know. It's gon' be okay. Ah love you."

The two of them had just gotten back from Walters Base, asking if they knew where Scarab had disappeared to. They didn't.

B0UNTY sighed. "Ah love you too, Capybara. 'M jus' a bit worried."

In truth, Jessie was also worried. Scarab had been gone for two days now. It had never known him to just disappear. And with how badly Cicada had been doing, and how poorly B0UNTY had been handling Scarab's disappearance- Jessie felt like it was watching H1VE crumble around it.

Yee couldn't let that happen. H1VE was one of the few things keeping haw from missing haw's own time period. It was her home. So Jessie tried her best to throw on a smile and make sure everything was okay.

"How 'bout we throw on a movie an' relax? Ah think snugglin' in mah Fox's arms t'night is jus' what ah need."

B0UNTY smiled and nodded. Jessie tried to ignore the way he held onto her as if he was scared he was going to lose her too.

They had just started the movie- a shitty western, something to zone out to -when there was the unmistakable feeling of time travel. Nothing changed in the room, but it could feel it. It sat up and looked over.

There Scarab, her wife, her Bug, stood, in the middle of the living room, shaking like a leaf and holding a calculator. They didn't have their cowboy hat on. There were two fresh cuts on their left cheek and the side of their neck. He was crying. Jessie nearly started crying too.

"Beetle?" Yee heard B0UNTY ask from behind haw.

Jessie ran forward, crushing Scarab in one of haw's infamous bear hugs. She felt Scarab tense up in her arms, then relax.

"Capy... Bara? Jessie?" He asked hesitantly, leaning into the hug. The southern accent was gone entirely. He sounded so much like Cicada without it, but Jessie knew instantly that she was it's Beetle.

"Bug! Oh, Lovebug, we missed ya so much, ah love ya, so much." Jessie continued to whisper sweet nothings into her hair as she cried harder.

B0UNTY ran over too, and the three of them stood there for awhile, holding on to one another.

"'m sorry," whimpered Scarab. "'m so- so fuckin' sorry."

"Fer what?" asked B0UNTY.

"Ya didn't do anythin' wrong." Jessie added. "Ah promise."

"No, no, no, no, you don't understand." Scarab was hyperventilating now, and the panic was clear in their voice. "Cas- Cassie's gonna tell Ty, it's all my fault, he said he'd tell Ty about H1VE if I left and I ran anyway, I'm sorry-"

B0UNTY cut haw off. "Hey, Beetle, look at me. It's okay. We ain't mad. Ty tries doin' anythin', an' ah'll kill'im, alright? We've got each other now. He cain't do anythin' to us. We're cowboys. Who the hell told'ja that, anyway? I'll kill 'im too."

It was obvious that he was trying to keep the anger out of his voice. Nonetheless, Scarab's breathing slowed. Jessie slipped it's cowboy hat off and put it on their head. They smiled.

"How 'bout we go an' get that cut 'f yers cleaned up, alrighty?" asked Jessie. "Then we can ask questions 'bout where've ya been."

After they were all cleaned up, relaxed, and fed, they laid together on their shared bed. Scarab nuzzled himself right in between Jessie and B0UNTY, laying his head right over her heart. Yee ran a hand through her hair.

Scarab made a noise.

"You doin' ok, Cuddlebug?"

"'m jus' glad'ja ain't floatin' in the pacific ocean. Ah missed y'all."

Jessie laughed and kissed her on the head. "We missed ya too. But yer here now. Get some sleep, mkay? Ah love you."

"Love you too."

[racketballz]

I've got a question about your art (that I love so much it's killing me !!!), anyway. So, when you're coming up with your ppg/rrb, did you first come up with your concept before searching for inspiration or did you first looked for inspiration before coming up with your concept. By concept I mean, the way your wanted to draw them and by inspiration, I'm talking about... what inspired you (you even posted pics about it, like butch's haircut is 50's etc).

Jumpscare ahead but it was jus the natural progression of things and then I was staring at all of them and then I started to come up with a concept I could stick which is what the reference sheet it for!

I think this is the first time I drew him ever and I basically like took what the show had! It looks very UH BAD and I drew it like 2 times and I wa slike this looks dumb LMAO

And then this time lasted for a whilE there are maybe like oof 10 drawings with his hair like this emo situation I think because I wanted him to match buttercup?? Because I was kinda drawing her hair a little like that but tbh it was a default hair at the time because it’s an emo hair cut easy to draw

BUT THENNNNN I was thinking of them playing sports and he naturally needs to get hair out of his face so I gave him a headband! And then the pushed back was borned

SWIFTLY AFTER THIS I DIDNT DRAW THE GUY very often because I was stuck like something wasn’t sitting right with the design for me so my style changed quite a bit because I was drawing other stuff and my art got like really “messy” and sketchy so I was able to draw looser lines and I did a yearly beach greens at the time and I pushed his hair back and long hair isn’t functional for a guy like him so I gave him an undercut! When I first drew this I stared at this picture for a long time because I liked it so much

The concept of them going to the beach besides the anime beach episode that happens in TEF it also reminded me of like the 50s of a bunch of kids spring break-ing and just like having a good time idk how to describe but that stuck with me for a while and of course the beach chapter is like one of my favorites for this reason!

But then I started messing around with the concept at this point and butches hair turned into a pompadour with like a fade situation it’s a good shape it doesn’t get in his face for when he’s fighting but it does get messy and hairs come out in the front.

I combined aspects of the original design to make not too round because he’s a sharp guy so I added spikes in the back some hairs that simple don’t stay down I ran into some issues later on because I can’t do a pompadour shape from the front so I tweaked some stuff after the reference sheet even further but I enjoy drawing him the side because I think that’s where he looks cutest lol

Fake apologies for rambling butchs hair is my favorite part of my designs other than those mole 🥲💚