#he was head over heels down for shepard from the start

[sol-consort]

Figured out how to mod the game just so I can get the captain outfit and it's so worth it.

[cherrycocaineee]

34. Dallas Winston - Please Don’t Be In Love With Someone Else

* Warning: smut! *

To everyone’s surprise, Tim Shepard was incredible with children especially when they were hysterically crying after hurting themselves. If it hadn’t been for your little brother, who at the ripe age of three enjoyed jumping off of high surfaces when he was alone for no more than a second, then no one would have seen this softer side of Tim. While everyone else was teasing the man as he placed a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle bandage on the child’s skinned knee while whispering he’d be alright, you couldn’t help the way your heart throbbed at the scene. And that’s when it started, down at the very bottom of your beating organ the tiniest, insignificant feeling of a crush was starting to blossom. It was a silly feeling, nothing that mattered at all because there were so many things about Tim Shepard you couldn’t stand. In fact, it was so funny to you, you decided to mention it to everyone, and like you’d hoped they would, they laughed about it. Even Tim Shepard, who knew there was nothing to the little crush you harbored.

“Well at least she gave you a way to get chicks!” Sodapop laughed.

And it was all fun and games amongst everyone. Tim even walked over to you, nudging your arm lightly.

“I can take you on a date,” he snickered, “get it out of your system.”

That caused another wave of rowdy laughter throughout the house. Everyone was having such a good time poking fun at your little crush towards Tim that no one, not even you, noticed the brooding Dallas Winston huffing in the corner with a cigarette between his lips. He didn’t find your crush on Tim Shephard all that amusing, probably because he was head over heels in love with you. But no one knew, not even Johnny, who Dally was incredibly close to. You weren’t like the other broads he’d ever met, Soc or Greaser; there was something warm about the way you laughed, something gentle and caring by the way you made sure everyone ate, you were friendly even when people didn’t deserve it, and no matter how many times you cried yourself into a mess, you put other people’s emotions before your own. He found you enduring, beautiful, selfless, and absolutely amazing but he’d never admit it to anyone. Which was why he was in this situation now; having to listen to all of his friends and you talk about your crush on Tim Shepard.

Honestly, he didn’t see the appeal. So damn what if Tim was great with kids, he could do that too. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. However, as the week went by, he found himself being scolded by parents of children he made cry. It wasn’t his fault they found him scary looking or that he wasn’t nice and soothing like typical people were when it came to children. He didn’t even like kids; they cried too much, there was always drool dripping from their mouths or snot bubbling at their nose, they asked for too much, and they were annoying.

A frustrated sigh left Dally’s lips as he plopped down on the Curtis’s couch. It was a Saturday, so everyone, with the exception of you, were sitting around Darry’s house enjoying their weekend and watching terrible tv. All of them turned their attention to their pouting friend.

“What’s the matter with you?” Darry questioned.

“Nothin’,” Dally huffed, not wanting to get into his failed attempt to get along with children for your sake.

“I saw you earlier,” Ponyboy stated while spooning some eggs into his mouth, “you made some kid cry and got yelled at by their mom.”

Dally scoffed, glaring angrily at Ponyboy for even mentioning his failure.

“Why’d you make a kid cry?” Two-Bit snickered.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!” Dally snapped, “I was trying to impress someone,”

It all came out before Dally could even stop himself. Now they were all curiously sitting on the edge of their seats eyeing him suspiciously.

“We didn’t know you were into someone,” Steve stated, “who’s the lucky gal?”

“You aren’t that stupid, are ya?” Two-Bit laughed, “I remember a certain someone admitting they had a crush on Tim Shepard simply because he was great with kids.”

And while the scowl on Dally’s face seemed to deepen, the gears in everyone’s heads started to turn and click at the realization that Dallas Winston was desperately in love with you. So desperate that he was willing to be around sticky, stinky kids just to make you feel something, even a little bit, for him. The few times he tried were just practice runs, he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you when he decided to do it for real.

“If you like her,” Johnny said, his voice almost too quiet to hear over the rumbling sound of old tv, “just tell her how you feel.”

“Yeah,” Darry stated, “she’s not actually in love with Shepard. She even said so.”

“Maybe he wasn’t listenin’,” Sodapop giggled.

He was listening, he just didn’t want you to love anyone else, no matter how much it was. He swore the next time he saw Tim Shephard he was going to kick his ass but that was no more than a silent threat considering it wasn’t his fault you felt the way you did. All he knew was he didn’t want them talking about it anymore, at any second, you would walk through that door and how unsettling would it be for you to find out Dally’s feelings while his friends are trying to give him advice. Dally always saw himself as prideful, so that would be an awful situation.

As if right on cue, you came trudging through the door in your diner outfit letting your bag drop to the floor beside the front door. Your face was contorted into exhaustion and a few of your hair were misplaced but you didn’t bother with it. Everyone stopped talking about Dally’s crush on you immediately.

“Hey guys,” you greeted, voice hoarse from all the orders you had to call out and customers you had to speak to, “How’s it going?”

“Great,” Two-Bit said, smiling brightly with no indication that they were discussing Dally’s love life, “How was work?”

“I almost quit today. I swore to myself if one more person smacked my ass, I was leaving,” you stated, rolling your eyes in the process as you plopped down beside Dally, “but Tim made it all better when he brought me some coffee during my break.”

There were two things to be mad at according to Dally: some prick smacked you on the ass without your consent and Tim made you feel better today instead of him. This was getting worse and worse.

Dally gripped the side of the couch, and he wished he had a pack of cigarettes on him because it would keep him from aggressively chewing on the inside of his cheek. While the boys seemed to notice, you didn’t and Dally was starting to think that you were irritably clueless of the situation in the room. And he couldn’t take it anymore, so he pushed himself off the couch and stormed out the house, slamming the screen door shut behind him. Your eyes widened at Dally’s sudden action. You had noticed that he had started acting weird all week; barely looking you in the eyes, not really saying anything to you, leaving when you showed up. It was like Dally wanted nothing to do with you anymore, which was painful really because you and Dally were close. Not as close as he was to Johnny but close enough.

“What’s wrong with him?” You questioned, turning to the boys who had grown eerily quiet.

“Well…” Steve started but was cut off by Ponyboy.

“He’s just havin’ a hard time tellin’ some girl he like her,” he stated.

“That’s why he’s been so upset this whole week? Because of a girl? Why doesn’t he ask her out or something? I’ve never seen him this messed up about one girl before.”

“These are all new emotions for Dally,” Darry stated, the big brother voice coming out, “we’ll just all need to be supportive however we can.”

And that left a question rumbling through your tired head: How were you supposed to be supportive and help if Dally wouldn’t even look at you?

You spent a little more time with your friends before you went to pick up your little brother, running a little later than you’d have liked. When you did arrive at your brother’s daycare to pick him up, Dally was standing beside the fence smoking a cigarette, looking much calmer than he previously was. Without hesitation, you approached him.

“Dally,” you called, voice sweet and welcoming as it was with any of your friends, “what are you doing here?”

“Figured you’d be late,” he hummed, throwing the butt of the cigarette to the ground, “so I came up here to watch your brother until you got here.”

A large grin spreaded against your lips, the sparkle in your eyes blinding in the sunlight that was starting to set. You didn’t even need to say thank you, though you said it anyway, because Dally could see it in your eyes that you were grateful that he was looking out for your brother when you made small mistakes like being late. You ran over to the teacher, the ends of your diner skirt bouncing with each movement you made, and apologized for your tardiness before collecting your brother.

“It was no trouble at all,” she chirped, “he’s a perfect child. Have you considered adopting him yet?”

It was a topic that was frequently discussed during pickups. With both y’alls parents being deceased, that left you as the sole provider for your brother even if you were barely an adult, but you’d rather die first before letting anyone other than yourself get custody of him.

“I have,” you admitted, “that’s why I’m working so much now. I need the money to start.”

“Well we’ll help however we can,” she said, then patted your shoulder and let you be on your way.

You carried your brother back over to Dally who was still waiting for you at the fence, a new cigarette sitting between his lips. He offered to walk the two of y’all home since the sun was starting to go down and it was dangerous for the two of you to be walking home alone. And by the time the three of y’all made it to your house, your brother was crying for something to eat. You invited Dally inside and he took up your offer, watching as you began to make your brother something to eat. His menu consisted of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich cut into triangles, they were his favorite shape and he wouldn’t eat it any other way, some carrot stick with a bit of ranch, not too much because ranch wasn’t too good for you, and pieces of strawberries cut into pieces so he wouldn’t eat the strawberry butts because he would if given the chance.

As you made your brother’s food, Dally sat across from you watching every move you made. He didn’t like kids, but he loved watching you take care of your brother. You seemed so relaxed and in the zone, that nothing else could take your focus away from taking care of the only part of your family you had left.

When you were finished making his dinner, you let him watch reruns of Scooby Doo as he ate. That left you alone with Dally until it was bedtime. Luckily you had tomorrow off so you didn’t have to worry about bath time tonight because honestly, your legs were barely staying up as it was.

“Are you hungry?” You asked Dally, quirking your head to the side.

“Nah,” he muttered, “I ate a little bit ago.”

You nodded your head.

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat,” he continued, his eyes looking up to meet yours, and you could see something desperate in them that was hard to pinpoint.

“I’m not hungry,” you said, “Just tired.”

“I can leave?”

“It’s okay for now. I still have to get him ready for bed and everything.”

The muscles in his shoulders seemed to relax as he settled back into his seat comfortably. You wanted to bring up what the guys had told you earlier, about Dally being in love with someone, but you weren’t sure how. It was odd to know that there was a girl out there making Dally feel this way, he was known for casually hooking up and dumping girls left and right. The idea amused you, so you went for it.

“So the guys said something about you being head over heels for some girl,” you started off, Dally’s eyes flickering up to you, “I was wondering if you wanted to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he muttered, averting his eyes.

You weren’t even sure if you should continue pressing the matter, you didn’t want to make him angry. You could handle his outburst but your brother would get scared and it wasn’t something you wanted to deal with tonight. So instead, you changed the conversation.

“Well I also wanted to let you know,” you changed the topic, “we’re all going to the park on Saturday. I’ll be making lunch for everyone if you wanna join. Everyone will be there, even Tim.”

A scowl appeared on Dally’s face as he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he looked away.

“I’m so damn tired of hearin’ that guys name,” he grumbled, keeping his voice down.

“He’s your friend,” you giggled, “What did he do to you?”

“He didn’t do anythin’ to me. I’m just tired of everyone kissin’ the ground he walks on.”

And now you were really confused because everyone was merely treating Tim Shephard like any ordinary friend.

“No one’s kissing the ground he walks on, Dally,” you argued, “he’s our friend. He’s welcome to join in on our activity if he wants to like anyone else we know. Why are you so mad at him?”

“Why are you defendin’ him?” Dally snapped, “You sleep with him? We all heard how you’re in love with him! How was he?”

By this time, your brother was looking at the two of you, inching himself behind the wall further but keeping an eye on y’all. But besides that, there were fresh tears in your eyes from the accusation being thrown at you. You couldn’t cry though, not in front of your little brother and sure as hell not in front of Dallas Winston. Instead, you gripped your hands into a fist at your side and glared at him, feeling a single tear fall from your face. For the first time ever, there was remorse and regret splashed on Dally’s face.

“Get the hell out of my house, Winston!” You snapped, “Now!”

You stormed past him and pulled the front door open; he came over to you.

“Wait,” he said, “let’s talk about this.”

“No.”

You grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and pushed him out of your house before slamming the door shut. You could hear the sound of his footsteps walking down the steps. Your brother, fortunately, wasn't crying, but was still scared. Smiling, shoving your tears away, you approached him and picked him up, carrying him to his bedroom to put him to bed. He kept asking you if you were okay and you promised him that you were, even though you weren’t. After reading him a bedtime story, he was knocked out, so you retired to your room and bawled your eyes out.

A week went by and you barely left the house. Instead of dropping your brother off at daycare, you took him to the diner with you. You didn’t even go to the park with everyone like you had originally planned, and when they knocked on your door that day, you ignored them because you felt ashamed. The only one you did speak to because they had seen you walking home was Darry. He was nice enough to give you and your brother a ride home. While your brother slept, Darry asked if everything was okay and because you saw him as the parental figure you desperately missed, you told him about the argument you and Dally had at your place. Rightfully so, he was pissed off at Dally.

And when Darry saw Dally again, he let him have it.

“Are you outta your mind?!” He snapped, “If you can’t get a hold of your damn emotions, fine! But you aren’t goin’ to take it out of her. She’s too damn kind and too damn carin’.”

“I didn’t mean for it to come out,” Dally argued, “but by the time I realized what I said, it was too late, she didn’t want to talk.”

“I don’t blame her. But you’re gonna make it right. You hear me, or you won’t be welcome back to my home until you sort yourself out.”

Everyone knew that Darry was serious because he never threatened to keep anyone from his house, so Dally refused to say anything that would cause a bigger hole in his relationship with Darry or anybody.

That night, Dally went to your house, hoping that you were still awake and that you would be willing to talk to him. He knocked three times on your front door before you opened up. Seeing your face for the first time in a week almost knocked the wind out of him. Even with tears, fresh and dry, streaking your tired face, you were beautiful. He wanted more than anything to grab you and kiss you, make everything alright.

“What are you doing here?” You questioned, voice no longer filled with joy but with sadness.

“Can we talk please?” He asked, the word “please” rolling off his tongue foreignly.

You hesitated, not wanting to let him in at all, especially not while your brother was asleep. But you knew he wouldn’t stop, coming back everyday to talk to you, hell, he’d even show up at your job. You couldn’t have that. So you nodded and pulled the door open, gesturing for him to come inside. Dally walked through your door and you shut it again, locking it so that no one could get in.

“What do you want to talk about?” You muttered, your eyes never meeting him.

“About that night a week ago,” he replied, “I want to apologize for what I said and my actions.”

“Because you’re actually sorry or because Darry made you come over here?”

The answer was both but it didn’t seem right to tell you that. But it didn’t seem right to lie either.

“Both,” Dally admitted, “but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still sorry, even if Darry told me to come over. I’ve only been keepin’ my distance because I knew you didn’t want to see me.”

“And I still don’t,” you snapped out, “so you tell me why I shouldn’t kick you out.”

“Because we’re friends and because I’m sorry.”

“No. That’s not good enough. Friends don’t say the shit you said to each other. So if you want me to believe your half ass apology, I’m gonna need more. For example, what the hell has been your problem lately?”

Another thing that Dally loved about you was that you could be incredibly feisty when you wanted.

You stood there with your arms crossed over your chest waiting for an answer. Dally sighed, running his hands through his hair, frustration clear.

“Fine,” he huffed, “you wanna know? I had to listen to all of you joke about your crush with Shepard while I’m sittin’ over here dyin’ to tell you that I love you. Dyin’ to tell you how much you mean to me and how I want nothin’ more than to hold you when you cry. I can’t get your laugh out of my head, I can’t sleep at night because you wander my dreams, and hell, I pray that the next time I see you, I’ll get to see your smile or hear your voice.”

Your eyes widened at his confession. You didn’t think that this girl he had been in love with could have been you. You never thought of yourself as special like that to anyone, that and your life was filled with work, taking care of your brother, and adopting him. Yeah you spent time with your friends but you never thought you’d be someone they loved.

“Y-you love me?” You questioned, your voice not louder than a mouse.

“Of course I love you,” he admitted again, “that’s why I’ve been so upset lately. And it’s no excuse for the things I said to you the other night. I shouldn’t have been so…”

“No, you shouldn’t have. But I forgive you, Dally.”

A smile appeared on his face and he hugged you. Your head was buried into his chest and you couldn’t help smiling at the familiar smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne.

“And just so you know,” you continued, “a crush is a crush, Dally. Nothing more. Real love is more than some silly feeling of fascination.”

You looked up at him, your eyes twinkling up at his bright, brown eyes. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before he dipped his head down and kissed you. The taste of cigarette smoke touched your taste buds when he slipped his tongue into your mouth. It was familiar and welcoming. You ran your fingers up his chest and then wrapped around his neck. He gripped your waist tight, holding you in place as the kiss heated up. Pretty soon, he was shrugging his leather jacket off of his shoulder before pushing you backwards towards your bedroom which luckily the door was open. Inside your room, Dally grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head revealing your flesh. Your breasts were almost popping out of your bra and Dally was practically drooling at the sight of it. He pushed you onto the bed gently, the covers crinkling underneath your weight. You watched as he removed his own shirt, undid his belt, before climbing back on top of you. His lips attached themselves to your neck instead of your lips. His tongue swirled around the subtle flesh of your neck causing a gentle moan to leave your lips.

“Dally,” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back.

“Shh,” he whispered, grinning against you, “you’ll wake your brother up. We don’t want that.”

He pushed himself between your thighs and caused a small amount of friction against your clothed cunt. It felt like he was doing all this on purpose, to tease you, knowing that you couldn’t be loud. You bite your bottom lip hard causing a small tear in the skin. The metallic taste of blood coating her tongue. Dally unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them off of your body, revealing the pretty panties you had decided to wear. Not on purpose, you were just behind on laundry and these were what you had. That didn’t stop him from grinning at the sight of them cupping the flesh of your lower half. He bent his head down and kissed the inside of your thigh, a moan leaving his throat at the scent alone.

“Dally, please,” you muttered, cheeks burning as you felt yourself grow wetter behind the fabric of your panties.

“Needy little thing,” he said, standing back up and removing his own pants and underwear.

There was no time to be wasted, both of you were craving each other so much that y’all’s skin was burning hot to the touch. Dally pressed another kiss to your lips, his fingers barely gripping your chin as he removed your panties with one hand. He threw the set to the side and moved on to your bra, unclipping it expertly. He swore he never saw anything more beautiful than you laid out before him. He laid you down, admiring every inch of you.

“So pretty,” he hummed, his head tilting as he watched you.

Your cute, little cunt was glistening with wetness and it only made him harder. He licked the drool off of his lips. He bent your legs as he positioned himself between you. Almost immediately your legs wrapped around Dally’s muscular torso; he positioned himself against your hole and rubbed his tip against your folds.The two of you moaned in each other's mouths, your eyes squeezing shut as Dally pushed into you. He was larger than you expected, wide too. With each inch of him going inside of you, your spongy walls could feel every vein that decorated him. There was a mix of pleasure and pain and you couldn’t help but bite down on his shoulder. He hissed at the erupting pain from your bite.

When he was finally inside you completely, he stopped, letting you adjust to him. You nodded your head, giving him permission and he moved. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes, lips inches apart as he picked up his pace. The bed creaked from the sudden movement and the headboard tapped rhythmically against the wall, luckily, not loud enough to wake your brother. Your head tilted back, giving Dally full access to your neck. He latches his lips against your flesh and leaves sloppy, open mouth kisses there; deep growls left rumbled through his throat sending a vibration up your neck. It tickled, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at the sensation. Dally moved one hand to your thigh and squeezed the soft flesh.

“Fuck,” he hissed, “you feel better than I ever imagined, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you moaned, “faster, Dally.”

“Whatever my sweetheart wants.”

His pace quickened, and alongside that his thrust became harder. You could feel the tip of his cock poking your cervix. He took his hand off your thigh and placed it down on your throat, tightening his grip only enough to make you feel dazed but not enough to cut off your oxygen supply completely. With his hand on your throat, he forced you to look at him, wanting to see the dazed, fucked out expression on your face as he continued to abuse your tight pussy. Fresh tears spilled from your doe like eyes as you watched him furrow his brow, the pleasure he felt increasing with each snap of his hips.

“Only I can have you this way,” he grumbled, sweat dripping from his forehead, his hair clinging to his tanned skin, “Shepard could never make you feel like this, understand me? No one could ever make you feel like this. Got that? You belong to me.”

Normally something like that would piss you off but the way he had you pressed into the mattress with his cock practically claiming every inch of your insides made you feel intoxicated. You couldn’t even answer him when he said it, just nodding your head as drool slipped from your partly open lips.

“Look at you,” he chuckled, “can’t even speak, that’s how good I’m making you feel right now. Fuck…you’re so fuckin’ tight. Squeezin’ me so well, doll.”

By this point, neither one of you could keep your moans down. All of your senses were dulled from pleasure and lust that you felt too drunk to care even if the neighbors heard. You were just glad your door was shut, and hopefully locked.

Dally pulled himself off of you, his hand unclamping from your neck. He picked your legs up and threw them over his broad shoulders. The sight in front of him felt almost illegal: your breasts in full, plain sight, your hands sitting tiredly beside your head tangled in the strands of your unkempt hair, the glistening sheen of sweat the coated every inch of your perfect body, and he got a full view of his cock digging deep into your cunt. His eyes rolled backwards as he rolled his hips roughly, hearty growls and moans puncturing the air as they left him. He dug his nails into your skin and you arched your back at the sensation of pain mixing with the adulterated pleasure.

“Fuck,” you cried out, fresh tears spilling over, “Dally, I’m gonna-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence because he wouldn’t let you. All he wanted was to feel you cum all over him. He snuck his hand down and rubbed your aching clit in quick, circular motions as his thrust became more erratic. His eyes darkened at the sight of your body starting to shake uncontrollably, your orgasm was approaching fast and he couldn’t wait. He was greedy. He wanted the confirmation that you’d only ever cum on his cock ever, that some silly crush couldn’t compare to having him. You’d be begging for more after this was all over and that’s what he was hoping for.

“D-Dally,” you cried out, “I can’t.”

“Let go, doll,” he moaned out, “cum for me.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you were shaking as your orgasm hit hard; your body arched, your pupils as they rolled backwards, your cries and moans became silent, and your hands gripped the bedding tightly. Dally’s face screwed into pleasure, too much pleasure. The sigh of you, the feeling of you tightening and soaking him, it was all too much.

“Sh-shit,” he hissed, his movements becoming sloppier with each stroke.

Your legs fell off his shoulders and he fell on top of you as the pleasure rippled through him like unsteady waves in the ocean. He buried his head into your neck, your tired arms wrapped around him as he pumped himself in and out of you.

“Sh-shit,” he cussed again, “I-I’m cumming, fuck.”

Quickly, he pulled out of you and pumped his load right onto your stomach; breathy gasp made both of you aware of the intensity of his own orgasm. He couldn’t even hold himself up anymore when he was finished. He laid down right on top of you, the smell of sweat, sex, and anything else covering y’all’s senses as exhaustion lolled y’all to sleep.

Dally was first to fall asleep, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling into his hair before dozing off yourself.

[aceghosts]

❛ so, what do i owe this pleasure? ❜ and/or ❛ how long has it been since you've slept? ❜ for the OTP Rooney and Yorinobu

Thank you for sending these prompts in! It gave me an excuse to write some fluff, and Rooney and Yori pining for each other.

[Prompt List]

Summary: Yorinobu is having trouble sleeping, and Rooney steps into help him. (AO3 Title comes from Poets of the Fall's The Labyrinth.) Words: 2,367 words. Content Warnings: This is mostly fluff, but a warning for minor referenced drug use. Author's Note: In terms of the timeline, this fic takes place a few weeks after Rooney and Yorinobu's reunion in 2077. Also, I hope you'll forgive me for being self-indulgent and including a nod to what was supposed to be Rooney's original ship. (Lol, I say that like everything I do isn't self-indulgent.)

AO3

Taglist (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @sergeiravenov, @alexxmason, @voidika, @tommyarashikage,

@carlosoliveiraa, @imogenkol, @strangefable, @socially-awkward-skeleton,

@theelderhazelnut, @direwombat, @derelictheretic, @cassietrn, @cloudofbutterflies92.

Yorinobu frowns, swiping to the next file. Each one is dense, heavy reading not meant for someone on such little sleep. He takes his glasses off, briefly rubbing his eyes before putting them back on. “Yorinobu-sama, Shepard is here to see you.”

“Send them in.” Anyone else would have received a sharp rebuke for disturbing him. Yorinobu wanted to see Rooney, to make up for the time that the two had spent apart. He would not make the same mistake twice. Rooney’s visit also gave him an excuse to take a needed break from searching through his father’s files. The door to his office slides open, and Rooney steps through the threshold quietly. He notes the way their eyes scan his office, searching for some potential threat. Good to know Rooney was still their hyper-vigilant self. They stride towards him as Yorinobu gets up from his chair, attempting to hide a yawn. “So, what do I owe this pleasure?” He asks as Rooney reaches his desk.

Rooney narrows their eyes, searching his face. He catches a glimpse of concern crossing their face as they take him in. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?” They ask bluntly.

“I slept last night.” A lie, but he dismisses their question with a wave of his hand. “Any updates on the Relic?”

“Bullshit,” Rooney crosses their arms over their chest, “Yorinobu, you look like shit. Seriously, when did you last sleep?”

Yorinobu loves so many things about Rooney, but their tendency to hyperfocus on a single issue causes trouble. Rooney won’t let this go until they have an answer, and Yorinobu is not in the mood. “I do not pay you to worry about my health. I pay you to find the Relic. I will not ask again-.“

“I’m not asking because you pay me,” frustration bleeds into their voice as Rooney stubbornly digs their heels in, “I am asking because I care, and it looks like you do need someone to worry about your health. Doesn’t look like Hanako or anyone else at Arasaka is doing it.”

He scoffs, anger building within him as Rooney hits a raw nerve.  “When did you last sleep?” Yorinobu notices the dark circles under their eyes, giving Rooney a semi-haunted look. What right did Rooney have to lecture him on sleep? Especially if they were getting so little themself? “You have no right to lecture me on my health.”

“Don’t turn this around on me,” They shake their head, uncrossing their arms, “We are talking about your-.”

“Do not worry,” Yorinobu reaches down towards his desk for the pill bottle in his desk drawer, some stimulants to get him through the rest of the day, until he could hopefully fall asleep, “I will make it through-.”

Yorinobu does not get the chance to finish his sentence as he starts to pull the bottle out of his desk drawer. In a blink, Rooney’s hand, the mechanical one forced upon them by Arasaka, grabs his wrist, fingers wrapping around tightly. Not tight enough to hurt him, but tight enough to let him know that Rooney is serious.  “Put it down,” They order.

“Let-.”

“No.” Rooney’s tone is deadly quiet, a grim look on their face.

“If you do not let go, I will fire you, and Smasher will throw you out.”

“No,” Rooney’s face softens, their shoulders slightly dropping as their grip around his wrist loosens, “I’m worried about you. You’ve been through a lot these last few weeks. And I’m not talking about Saburo. I’m talking about you taking over Arasaka. I know what you plan to do, and I worry that you’ll burn yourself out before you take Arasaka down. I care about you too much to let that happen.”

He drops the pills back in the desk drawer, Rooney releasing his wrist. “You are correct. I am not sleeping. Between travel and Arasaka, sleep is not a priority.” Yorinobu would sleep for an hour or two occasionally, but could not stay asleep, despite his exhaustion. More urgent matters require his attention.

“Go home. Lay down for a while. Or,” Rooney motions over their shoulder to the black leather couches in his office with a teasing smile, “You could lay down here, but I know how you feel about Arasaka couches.” He feels a warmth in his chest, touched by their attempt at a joke about his distaste for Arasaka couches.

Yorinobu relents, knowing Rooney will win this battle through sheer stubbornness. He presses down on the intercom button. “Aria, cancel the rest of my meetings for today. Tell the AV to meet me in five minutes.”

“Yes, Yorinobu-sama.”

Rooney relaxes, a weight coming off their shoulders. “Good, you need the rest.”

“You are very persuasive, and you would have dragged me back to my apartment if I did not agree,” He teases.

“Yeah,” Rooney replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of their neck in slight embarrassment, “I can be stubborn like that.”

“You are very stubborn.” A massive understatement. Yorinobu wishes that Rooney would care for themself the way they do others. When it came to everyone else, there was no limit to what Rooney would do. For themself? Rooney would brush it off, insisting that they were fine, that no one needed to look after them. He wishes they would look after themself or listen to him like they used to.

“Have a good night, Yorinobu. I’ll update you on my investigation next time; there isn’t much.”

“Good night, Rooney.”

He watches them turn away, walking a few steps. Rooney stops and turns back towards him, seemingly hesitant. “Would you like me to come with you? I know playing with your hair helped you fall asleep,” They ask, rolling their left shoulder out of nervousness. His eyes widen in surprise as Rooney backpedals, looking away from him, flustered and bright red. “I’m sorry; I overstepped. Forget what I-.”

“No,” He cuts them off, “You caught me by surprise. If you want to come, I would not say no, but please do not feel compelled to.”

“I want to,” the words rush out of their mouth slightly, Rooney relaxing, “I mean, I would be happy to.” They smile at him softly, that small smile reserved for few, reserved for him.

Yorinobu smiles back, a warm feeling in his chest. “Good. Allow me a few minutes to get ready.”

—

Rooney follows him into the apartment, like a shadow. “Go get comfortable. I’ll go put on some white noise,” Yorinobu raises an eyebrow, “Reconnected with some old friends from the Unification War in Night City. One of them swears by white noise along with some other stuff. Figure it might help you too.”

“From the Unification War?” In all their time together, Rooney rarely talked about the Unification War. He knew that whatever Rooney had seen had been horrific, having met a few other Unification War veterans.

They nod. “He was Militech; I was part of the Free States. It’s a long story; He’s an,” Rooney pauses, brow furrowing for a moment as they search for their next words, “interesting guy.”

“He does sound interesting. Do you take any of his advice?”

“I tried,” Rooney frowns, wrinkling their nose as Yorinobu holds back a laugh, “It only stressed me out more.”

“You think it will help me?”

“Can’t hurt. Besides, you know how I am,” They smile at him again, “Now, go get ready.”

Several minutes later, Yorinobu lies on the right side of the bed. Rooney approaches, shrugging off their worn black and blue leather coat. They fold it neatly, laying it on the nightstand. Sitting on the edge of his bed, Rooney takes off their boots, before sitting up against the headboard. Yorinobu lays his head in their lap as the soft rain noises play. Their hand runs through his hair, a relaxing sensation. He sighs in contentment, closing his eyes as serenity washes over him. As he drifts off to sleep, Yorinobu hopes that they’ll still be here when he wakes up.

—

Stifling a yawn, Rooney looks down at Yorinobu, relieved to see him asleep. They had been deeply concerned about him when they stepped into his office. Yorinobu looks tired and older than when they first saw him, the weight of Arasaka finally bearing down on his shoulders. Despite their duty towards V, Rooney hopes that they can help shoulder some of Yorinobu’s burdens, especially with Arasaka. Their hand continues to play with his hair, a comforting motion to Rooney. A yawn escapes them, Rooney blinking slowly. Their eyes feel heavy, their own exhaustion overtaking them. Maybe, they could just close their eyes for a few seconds. Wouldn’t hurt them.

—

Yorinobu groans, his senses coming back to him as he wakes. He feels a comforting pressure on his waist, looking down to see a familiar red and black metal arm wrapped around him. Glancing over his shoulder, Yorinobu finds Rooney spooning him, still asleep. They are frowning in their sleep, as they always do, but still sleeping peacefully. Rooney must have fallen asleep, exhausted from their PI work. He smiles softly, happy to lay with Rooney in this quiet moment. He remembers the moments the pair would spend in bed, a lazy morning to themselves. Cuddling together as they would quietly talk, which occasionally turned into something more intimate.

As if they sense his staring, Rooney awakes, blinking a few times. “Where-?” They mumble, their voice groggy. Awareness kicks in seconds later as their eyes widen. “Yorinobu, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to,” They apologize profusely, pulling away from him and sitting up against the headboard, “I don’t know what happened. I’m really sorr-.”

“Do not apologize,” He shakes his head as he sits up next to them, trying not to feel hurt, “You were asleep.” Disappointment lingers in his chest. Perhaps Yorinobu misread their signals, thinking that Rooney might still have lingering feelings.

Rooney does not look convinced, guilt on their face. Before they can apologize again, he notices the electric blue circle in their eyes, a telltale sign of Rooney receiving a call. “Yorinobu, do you mind if I take this call for a second?”

Shaking his head, he reaches for his glasses, setting them on his nose as Rooney answers. “Vik, I’m okay.” A jealous feeling rises in his chest. Who is Vik? A partner perhaps? He grabs his phone as they speak again. “I promise I’m fine. Listen, I’ll meet up with you later. I’m in the middle of something right now.” Now, Yorinobu is ‘something’, a secret to be hidden? “Thanks. I should go.”

They hang up, looking over at him. “Sorry, I had to take that.”

Yorinobu waves them off, burning with jealousy. Rooney moved on with their life, just as he had. He had no right to expect them to pine after him. Yet, Yorinobu felt jealous of Vik. He hopes that Vik is treating Rooney well, understanding how rare someone like Rooney is. “I understand,” wincing at how bitter his voice sounds, “You do not want your boyfriend to know you are in bed with another man.”

“Boyfriend?” Rooney blurts out, staring at him in shock. Realization dawns on them a few seconds later “Vik! Oh no, he’s a really close friend,” They rub their neck awkwardly, and Yorinobu senses that there might be something more to it, “That’s all, just a close friend.”

“Oh?”

They nod. “What about you? I was surprised you didn’t have someone waiting for you here.”

With Rooney back in his life, Evelyn had become an afterthought, a past situation. While he preferred his relationships casual, Rooney had been one of the few exceptions, turning his life upside down. “No, I am not seeing anyone. Are you seeing anyone?”

“No,” Rooney rolls their shoulder, slightly embarrassed, “When I returned to the military, I went on a few first dates at the encouragement of friends, but none of them made it past that,” They look down at their hands, “Truth be told, none of them were you, and it didn’t seem fair to lead them on.” Rooney looks up again, meeting his eyes. “I guess, it’s just finding someone special now.”

“Have you found someone special?”

Rooney smiles at him fondly, a warm, affectionate look in their eyes. “I might have,” They admit, “There are things that I have to take care of first. But, once I take care of that, I think I can give it a shot. Anyone catch your eye?”

Does that mean-? Yorinobu feels lighter, like he wasn’t wrong for reading into their actions. “Not until recently,” He reaches out, tucking a strand of their dark red hair behind their ear, “I would ask them, but they are dealing with something. I hope they will tell me what they are dealing with and let me help.” Please let me help. “I want to help them.”

Their cheeks flush bright red. “I hope it works out for you,” Rooney replies softly, trying to keep the wide smile off their face, “Do you need to get back to Arasaka?”

“I should.” Yorinobu would rather not. He would much rather stay here with Rooney, letting this moment last a little longer between them. “I need to keep looking through the old man’s notes, understand what he was working on.”

Rooney frowns, growing serious. “Yorinobu, if you need help with that, you know you only have to ask, right?”

“I do.” He knows that he could ask almost anything of Rooney, and they would do it for him. If Rooney were to ask almost anything of him, Yorinobu would do it. He wishes they would ask him for help, confide him in like they used to. He wishes he could truly confide in them like he used to. Another reminder of the distance between them.

“Good luck, Yori,” Their nickname for him slips out as they get out of bed, “And if you need help sleeping or with Arasaka, don’t be a stranger. You can always call, anytime.”

“Thank you, Rooney.”

“Goodbye.” They grab their coat, departing from the bedroom, leaving him all alone. Yorinobu sighs, his shoulders dropping. One day, he will convince Rooney to stay.

[reidslovely]

I wrote the 'incorrect quote' version of this last night and wanted to write a blurb based on it. I also just love normal Harry and Peter being besties because we didn't get to see it in their movie like we should have. So here take this to tickle the frat!Peter and frat!Harry itch.

____

It was a dumb trend Peter had seen on tiktok, mostly with people forcing camera’s into the face of their animals. He had done it with Bashful’s family pets when they went to her hometown for the weekend, however he thought he knew a better participant other than the german shepard puppy and calico cat his girlfriend loved dearly. Someone who’d sent his head through the wall of the frat house a raging four times from laughing so hard. Someone who's gotten so black out drunk that he tried to unlock the gate from the hinges on the inside before throwing himself over it. Someone who's truly never had a coherent thought behind his eyes. 

Peter, arguably about three melon bombs in, ran down the steps of the frat house Bashful on his heels. “Stop, slow down, I don't wanna miss it.” She yelled laughing. 

Peter readied his phone with the TikTok audio before rushing to the backyard of the frat house. Harry jumped looking over his shoulder smiling at his friend who rapidly approached him with a devious joy in his run. Peter came to a halting stop in front of Harry, knocking the glasses off his face, Peter’s hand resting on top of his blonde locks as the video started. 

“You have a smoooooth brain.” 

Peter poked his head, dragging his finger across his friend's forehead. “No ridges or lumps.” 

Harry laughed, staring at his friend and Bashful covering her mouth laughing at Harry’s confusions. 

“Or valleys or bumps. All idea’s slide right off...like a water slide” 

Harry pulled his head away swatting at Peter’s hand as his friend took off running again. 

“What the fuck was that?”

“You have a smooth brain, Har, it’s okay.” Bashful teased, ruffling his hair. 

“I literally have stocks in Oscorp, Peter’s the smooth brain one here.” 

Peter walked back and sat on the arm of Harry’s yard chair. “Whatever helps you Har, I’m not the one who got stuck in a spider-man kids float and almost drowned.” 

“I wish you had.” Harry mumbled sliding his sunglasses back on. 

[writtenjewels]

Reflect

Shepard finally had the chance to look at himself in the mirror. The image staring back at him made him recoil in shock. Was this him? He tilted his head to one side, raised an eyebrow, scrunched up his nose. The image copied his every move. Still, he was having trouble reconciling the reflection to himself. What he stared at was a stranger.

There were lines in his skin. Not the kind that came from wrinkles, though that would have been strange. These lines were more like fissures splitting his skin apart. Each line had a faint glow. What the hell had Cerberus done to him?

His hair and beard proved he had been out for a long time. He had grown a beard, when usually anything more than stubble would bother him. His hair had grown out, too, all the dye long gone. Shepard brushed loose strands away from his eyes. At least those were the same gray color he remembered.

He stepped away from the mirror, turned on his heels, and headed to the captain's quarters. He knew the mission was important and he needed to get started, but he couldn't do that until he felt like himself. The first order of business was to shave off this beard.

Shepard felt much better once his jaw was smooth again. His hair needed to go next; the only person on the ship he trusted to do that was Doctor Chakwas. He found her working at her desk in sick bay.

“Commander,” she greeted. “Good, I was hoping I wouldn't have to track you down. With all the chaos, I haven't been able to run a physical on you.”

“Could you help me with this when you're done?” he asked, running his fingers meaningfully through his hair.

“I'm not a barber, but I'll do what I can.” She ran a scanner over him and typed a few things on her omni-tool. “You're in good health, Commander,” she assured him. “Your implants have taken and Cerberus has taken care to stimulate your muscles to prevent atrophy. I would still recommend some light exercises.”

Shepard nodded along as she spoke. He hesitated, before asking the question that plagued him since he saw his reflection. “How much did they change me, doc?”

“As I said, you now have some implants and synthetics. It was unavoidable with the damage you suffered.” Chakwas gave him a somber look. “But I have compared your past medical records with what I'm seeing now, and you are unchanged on the most important, fundamental level: your mind.”

“How can you be sure?” Shepard challenged.

“First of all, you're asking me that question.” Chakwas's look shifted into more of a smile. “If Cerberus manipulated your mind, you wouldn't worry about it. Second, the hair.” Shepard raised an eyebrow at her. Now there was an amused light in the doctor's eyes. “I remember how you liked to keep it short and dyed, even as we were chasing after Saren.”

The reminder embarrassed him. He knew how silly it was to care about something like this, but growing up like he did, Shepard didn't have a lot of control over his environment. He moved when his parents were stationed, and never got to have lasting friendships. Dyeing his hair was one of the few things he had a choice in back then.

And he still cared about it now. It was small, and trivial, and really didn't matter. But it was important to him. Shepard took some comfort in that.

[milkywayes]

WIP Whenever

tagged like a week ago by @serendipitys-teapot, thank you so much for thinking of me! I finally got around to it >:)

I think most everyone has already done this, but since it was a week ago maybe they’d like to do it again? lol. no pressure! tagging @gammaraydeath @kalliesa @dispatchwithlove @continuous-spec @callista-curations

from the very capricious (read: it’s been kicking my ass for months) draft of Cipher’s chapter 11. I’m making headway again and I hope I can start uploading chapters again soon on ao3! sorry for the wait everyone.

“Loitering,” he says mildly, though a bobbing mandible betrays his discomfort. “Listen to yourself. It’s not loitering… if I’m here with a purpose.” She crosses her arms. Fingers tighten around the Normandy piece that she forgot to return to the pile, sweaty in her grip. She’s probably ruining the paint job on it. “And what’s that purpose, Garrus?” “Waiting for you.” The tug at her mouth strengthens. So does the flush, which has reached her ears by now. “Intercepting, you mean.” He shrugs as if to say, same thing. “You know,” she ventures, “I’ve come to expect you to just barge right in.” “The call was… a surprise.” Garrus breaks eye contact to glance down at his omni-tool arm, then shrugs again. Sub-zero temperatures have begun creeping through the section doors at Garrus’ back, spreading goosebumps over her arms—he shivers, pushing off them and stepping around her in one stilted, stalking movement. “Had to take that one. I figured you’d come out eventually.” She turns on the spot, keeps looking at him. Tracking him. “No-comms black op?” “You could say that.” Leaning back on her heels means she gets a better look at his face; he notices, takes an additional step back to grant her the view. His shoulders point down the length of the corridor, but his head’s tilted her way, indifferent to the scrutiny. It’s odd: all this time with no answers forthcoming, and now he’s suddenly unconcerned about letting her listen in on classified communications. Holding eye contact as he does it. Every move intentional. She catalogues the angles of his face, strangely patient, offset only by the ceaseless musing and scrolling of his visor. She says, “That wasn’t just mission HQ checking in with the ground team. I don’t know Blackwatch’s command structure, but the guy’s the primarch, and he’s overseeing this personally. So either it’s of vital importance—or he’s making an exception for you.” “The thing about exceptions is they never end well. Any lapse in conviction’s a hole for the enemy to exploit—or so goes the age-old maxim.” The delivery’s joking, but his countenance is not; fingers move to pluck at the flared sleeves of his jacket, picking off lint, imagined or otherwise. “Victus loves the idea of having a protégé. I’ve found it’s best not to psychoanalyze him over it. Too risky.” Shepard, pursing her lips, has some thoughts about that. Also about Garrus, whose new-found openness appears to have hard limits—as evidenced by his answer, which wasn’t really an answer at all. She forces herself to relax out of stance. She’s been standing with her heels ground into the flooring, like this is a square-off at high noon rather than… what it is. Her finger pads dig into the Normandy’s nose, a grounding sensation, and then she’s closing the distance again. Lightly, she asks, “Scared he’d psychoanalyze you right back?”  “Absolutely.”

[make-me-imagine]

A New Experience

Plot: John wants to confess his feelings to you during Valentines, but you aren't originally from Earth, and have no idea what Valentines Day is.

Pairing: John Shepard x Gn!Alien!Reader

Prompts: "What are these for?" "Valentines Day." "Why?" + A takes B's hand to help them down steps/wall, and doesn't let go

Requested By: @gaitwae & Anonymous

Warnings: A kiss at the end. Mention of roof ledge (sitting on).

Words: ~1.2k

-

As John made his way around the Atlantis base, his eyes scouring every room for you, his heart beat nervously in his chest. Over the course of the few months you had been settling in at the Atlantis base, becoming a new team member, John had fallen completely head-over-heels for you.

He debated constantly when or if he should tell you about how he felt, often chickening out last minute. But as the Earthly holiday of love slowly infected the Atlantis base, he felt more courage than he had before.

So here he was, looking desperately for you, hoping to whisk you away to his room, where he had set up a dinner for the two of you. He got flowers chocolates, and hopefully the confidence to tell you exactly how he felt.

"Hey Zelenka!" He called out as the scientist walked past "You seen Y/n?"

"Oh yes, roof, I believe."

"Roof." John sighed out with realization. You often went out to look out at the water to relax.

Quickly making his way up to the roof, he took a few deep breaths, hoping to quiet his anxieties.

As he made his way out onto the roof his eyes moved around, before finally spotting you sitting up on a roof ledge, legs dangling over as you peered out at the water. He always felt a nervous flutter in his stomach when he saw you there, so close to danger, yet appearing so peaceful.

Making sure his steps could be heard, so he did not startled you, he walked over. Turning your head to look back, you smiled as you saw him.

"Hello John." You greeted, your own heart fluttering in your chest as you saw his familiar warm smile.

"Hey Y/n." Leaning on the edge of the wall, he looked over for a moment before looking at you "You got any plans for this evening?"

You shook your head with a soft smile "No, why?"

"Well, I thought you might join me, for dinner."

You felt butterflies in your stomach as you smiled "I'd love to."

You'd often sit in the mess hall with John or the others and eat, you enjoyed spending that time with them. You wondered if the others would be joining you again tonight.

"Great!" He said with a bright smile "You hungry now?"

You let out a soft laugh "Yes actually I am. I was planning on heading in to eat soon."

As you turned around, facing the roof, you moved to jump down. John reached out his hand or you to take as you did so, and you smiled softly as you took it.

Jumping down from the ledge you expected John to release your hand, but you were surprised when he did not, instead he smiled almost bashfully at you as he lead you inside.

You felt your cheeks and neck warm up as his hand continued to hold yours. You were not averse to the action, far from it actually, but you were definitely caught off guard by it.

As you stood in the lift, making your way down, John cleared his throat, "I think you'll like what I got for dinner."

You frowned slightly, unsure of what he meant. "What do you mean? Are they serving something unusual today?"

As you said this, John realized he had made an error. He was not specific enough.

"Oh, no, uh, when I asked if you would eat with me, I meant just the two of us, I had something special made up for us."

Your heart was now pounding in your chest, and the reason behind his holding your hand started to make a bit more sense.

You smiled at him "Oh, I see, that sounds wonderful."

He smiled at you, obviously relieved you were still happy to have dinner with him. He glanced down at your still intertwined hands and smiled to himself.

As the lift doors opened to the floor where you knew John's room was on your stomach grew tighter as you began to grow nervous. You had feelings for John, you had since you first met him.

Now your mind was full of thoughts of what this dinner was for, why was he holding your hand, did this mean he felt the same as you? The way he looked at you seemed to express enough, but you still held doubts.

Making your way into John's room, you were stunned to see a table set up for dinner, complete with candles. John quickly pulled out his phone and you watched him for a moment before he looked back up at you.

"Our food will show up son, I had the kitchen hold it while I looked for you."

You smiled fondly at him as he seemed to hold a nervous energy about him.

"Oh!" He exclaimed softly, before grabbing something off the counter, turning back around he handed you a bouquet of beautiful red flowers "I got these for you".

You looked at them in awe before looking up at John "Oh they're beautiful, what are they?"

He smiled "They're called dahlias."

As you smelled them, you looked back at John "What are these for? What is all of this for John?" Your tone was bewildered but obviously pleased.

John smiled "Valentines day."

You blinked a few times "Why? What is, Valentines day?"

As realization washed over John, he let out a soft chuckle "It's an Earth holiday, obviously, I thought you may have heard about it by now."

You shook your head "What does it mean?"

"Oh, that's- uh, well, it's a holiday for people to celebrate love, and relationships of all kinds."

"So you are celebrating our...friendship?" You asked softly, worried you misinterpreted what this was.

He smiled "No, not really. Uhm, it is a holiday mostly celebrated by couples, it's a romantic holiday. And a lot of people, including me in this case use it as a way to express how they feel about someone."

Now your heart was beating faster again, maybe you did not misunderstand after all.

"And what it is you are trying to express to me?"

He smiled as he took a step closer to you his eyes grazed your face softly before he spoke "I wanted to express that I am crazy about you." As you smiled brightly at his confession, he felt more confident "And I've been a coward these past couple months having not told you and I'm sorry it took so long."

You smiled bashfully at him before you spoke softly "I have been a coward too then."

He grinned at you, as you stared at each other for a moment in blissful silence. Reaching over, he gently caressed the back of your hand before he met your eyes again "I really like you."

"I really like you too John."

Leaning closer, slowly, his eyes drifted from your eyes down to your lips. Gently, your lips met in a soft kiss, as John's hand gently drifted up your arm, before he cupped your chin and deepened the kiss.

You had a feeling you were really going to enjoy this new holiday.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Stargate Taglist: @hybrid-omegaverse, @gatefleet, @cs-please, @fandomdancer,

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

A) Curly is obviously intimidated by Tim-almost everyone is.

B) Tim cares about his stupid little brother. A lot.

C) the Shepards have an…intense way of caring for each other

So when you came around, the obvious choice for Tim was to try and scare you away from Curly. He didn’t want to see his brother get hurt. He’d do everything in his power to get you to leave his brother, to avoid damage before you can start.

Curly knew, and he didn’t like it. At first, he stayed quiet about it because Tim was his brother and could beat his ass with one arm anytime needed. But when Tim made comments about other girls? When he made targeted comments towards you?

He flipped.

Curly walked you home early on that one night. He left you with nothing but a (surprisingly) gentle kiss on the forehead and a small, “I’ll take care of it.”

and god he did

Curly went home fuming, slamming the front door off its hinges. He called Tim just about every name under the sun. He cursed and he swore and things were thrown because who the hell was he to treat them like that?

And, to everyone’s surprise, Tim just took it. And he grinned because his little brother was head over heels.

Curly, spitting and swearing, cursing Tim up and down because of the way Tim treated his S/O, throwing things and slamming things:

Tim, soaking it all in with a smug smile before finally chiming in: So you love ‘em, huh? Good for you, ya softy.

[simowis]

【story clip】 Many many years later：Memory Shard

Continuation of the previous post

*Translated by DeepL and Proofread by me.

Shepard left the port cargo room. First she apologised to Javik. Bending down, she picked up the echo shard she had struck from his hand and returned it to the pedestal. Her distant footsteps were somewhat hasty.

Javik submerged his entire hands in the pool, the cold water helping to keep his emotions subdued. The pheromones he'd released earlier - those memories of the present moment integrated before and after each mission - melted into the water, with rippling waves of water lapping at his wrists, continuing to underline reality. Reality. Yes, reality.

The Sanctuary plan had failed, he was the only one left in the present after 50,000 years, he had failed his race.

And ever since he woke up and went through so much, he'd been running away. It wasn't until now that he was finally mentally ready to face everyone, and then Shepard pushed him.

She wanted to know about Prothean's former glory, he found those memories and conveyed them to her; she wanted to know the details of the Reaper War, he transported a lot of death. She didn't want to know any more and panicked, knocking the shards out of his hands.

He was gazing at the shadows of his comrades when he was abruptly pulled back to reality. So he poured out his nightmare to her. The past that had killed his comrades with his own hands.

Word for word, Javik meticulously describes the details of the murder. As expected, Shepard's body radiates panic and guilt.

----

He shook the water out of his hands.

What he had just done was inappropriate. Those words shouldn't have been spoken. He shouldn't have infected anyone else with his nightmares, especially Shepard.

In fact, he should have been thanking her for giving him the opportunity to read the shard.

Drying his hands, Javik went back to the pedestal and picked up the shard. He was a little bothered by what he had just seen. After clearing his mind, he unleashed a little biotic energy. The memory shard began to tremble and glow with a faint light. The next moment he was back in his memories, where he was with his comrades. In a conspicuous corner, he found it: A memory shard, spinning silently on its pedestal.

A shard that existed within a echo shard.

The shard present in the memories are hidden, this is to prevent the person reading the memories from getting lost in the echo shard, like being in an endless corridor of reflections between two opposing mirrors, looping indefinitely, unable to find an exit. Javik remembered. The shard had been returned to him after 'Mirror' had been sacrificed. And soon, the husks had launched a full-scale invasion of the sanctuary, he hadn't had a chance to read it. After a moment's thought, he manipulated himself in this memory to touch it .

----

It was a compressed archive. Memory fragments overlapped, all in read-only mode. 'Mirror' seemed to be using this as a repository for her hidden logs.

He read them in order, starting at the very end, which was a very short memory:

It was pitch black. Maybe ‘Mirror’ closed her eyes. There was an intense pain at the back of her neck. Her voice broke with a lot of stray interference: "…Farewell, 'Organic'…go first…can't control it…" Her hand was shaking as she shoved the cold piece of metal into her mouth. The clip was over.

Those were her last words. Javik remembered how she died. Along with the shard, he was given an image of her remains.

He mourned for a moment, then read the previous entry, which was a slightly longer memory:

Her back tensed involuntarily, the holes in her head carapace bubbling with steam, a chill running from her heels down her spine to the back of her head. Her voice: "All infected? All females? When did this start… Victory, do a scan of me!" "……" The noise was so bad that he couldn't make out what Vcitory had said in reply. She asked again: "…predict how much time I have left before complete deterioration?" "……" Victory's answer was covered in noise. She clenched her fists tightly and closed all four of her eyes, her eyebrow carapace furrowing as she digested the message. Gradually, the forehead carapace loosened again, 'Mirror' let out a sigh. Darkness returned. This memory came to an abrupt end.

The fragments were numerous and fragmentary. Scrolling forward, Javik noticed that one of the memories took up an unusually large space. He gave it a cursory scan. It was a log of seemingly ordinary memory. It was quite possible that 'Mirror' had hidden something here. Reading it required caution and care. Every environmental detail in this memory had the potential to hide something:

But it begins again in darkness. 'Mirror' was lying on the table, all four eyes closed. The side of her cheek was pressed against the cool desk as she muttered lazily to herself, ""Finally done…" He had given her many difficult tasks before, perhaps this was a memory of just finishing. 'Mirror''s hand went to the side of the table, she tried to reach for something, but couldn't. After a few irritated gropes, she reluctantly opened one eye and then grabbed her target:

A memory shard.

Memory Shard?

Shard of shard of shard of shard… what the hell…?

He didn't have time to disengage before 'Mirror' touched the shard. A wave pulled her consciousness, wrapped with his, upwards together. Up, and up, until he was thrown into a white room and 'Mirror's' consciousness had quietly vanished. All that was left in that space was him, and a huge grey beacon in front of him. Javik closed his eyes. The rumble of Normandy vibrated vaguely against the soles of his feet; he tried to curl his fingers and felt them touch the rough surface of the shard in reality. It seems he were back in the original shard, and here was the hidden space that could only be discovered in this way.

No matter, he had remembered the location of this space.

This area, 'Mirror' had probably deliberately led him to. A tower-like beacon with a faint yellow light flickered on the lower platform, as if someone were calling out.

He couldn't help but think of how many Protheans had been corrupted by the polluted information coming from the beacon. Even in latency, the effects of indoctrination could be passed on to others through sensory communication. After the fall of the Citadel, this was the reason for the rapid disintegration of the Empire. People were forced to voluntarily give up contact with other solar systems, or be watched forever by their own kind after risking great exposure to the beacon. They have to communicating in the least efficient ways of speaking and writing, and the reliability of messages became a problem. Until… Late in his era, anti-indoctrination scans and vaccines finally became available, but resources were so scarce that only the most important could have access to them. The noise, on the other hand, was a side effect of shielding against the effects of indoctrination.

Without hesitation, Javik reaches out to touch the beacon.

No one answered. Instead there was another memory:

Someone jumped from a very high chair and stepped through a very large, old door. The view was low, he saw the unfaded roots of the baby wings on the shoulders. The owner of the memory would have been a hatchling. The stairs were wide and long, and the vision-owner climbed to the surface first, pulse pounding. One by one, his companions jumped out. Some tried to fly, others rolled around on the ground, having a great time. Perspective kept his gaze fixed on the stairs, apparently searching for someone, when his head carapace was accidentally attacked by a tiny ball of mud. He, no, it should be she, screaming at the top of her lungs in pursuit of the bad guy who had just thrown her - the one she was looking for, her best friend, her constant playmate. The two of them chased each other across the lightly sandy land, the sky was golden, and the huge moon with its two connected pupils at the equator was just peeking out. She heard her playmate call out her child's name. He'd conceded defeat, so the game of hide and seek was hers. But before she could declare victory, she was stabbed in the back. Her playmate had dared to sneak up on her with a branch. So she played the zombie and had to be knocked out. Then she climbed up and defiantly found a longer branch. This time it was her turn to be the hero. …Eventually, tired of playing, they lay on the ground, saying random nouns, pretending that was their future codename. He insisted on adding the pronunciation of his home planet to his codename. She was free to think about how glorious it would be to be an Avatar. "I've decided, you will be called -" she said triumphantly as she climbed to her feet and pointed to his head carapace.

He felt a tinge of nostalgia.

He hadn't expected to see the familiar colours of the sky again. He was a little grateful that 'Mirror' still had such clear memories of his childhood. Javik spoke the code name she had given him quietly. That naive, childish, impractical codename that belonged only to that 50,000-year-old standard year. That belonged only to his short childhood.

The yellow light at the bottom of the beacon went white.

The white debris slowly began to piece together the figure of 'Mirror', who stood upright in a salute and said:

"It's been a long time…yet, 'Organic'. Since you found your way here, I should be dead. You're having all sorts of problems with the resurrection of the Empire, aren't you? It's a shame I can't help you with my psychic. But…" she turned and touched the grey tower, "Don't worry, I've stored the souls of the people in the shard in this virtual beacon, and through it you can still call people for discussion in the way I taught you. " The image turned back, "Remember, it will help you relieve the pressure of the psychic, but you still have to give them some of your brain space. Don't call too many people at once, it will be overwhelming." At the end, she clears her throat and chants out loud: "For the Empire! Imperium Forever! Good luck to you! 'Mirror' out."

Then she disappears; it was just a scan replay.

Javik touched the beacon again and felt a list of the code names and duties of many people in the chronological order in which they were stored. He couldn't find 'Mirror', she hadn't stored herself there. It seemed she had followed the old law - a psychic could only live once. But she did keep a copy of the course material for future psychics for practice. Javik pulled his hand away from the beacon.

He let go of the memory shard and returned to the reality that was filling up with pheromones and booms. Javik dipped his hand back into the sink once more.

He needed some time to digest everything.

[ainyan]

Send me a 🤣 for a random funny scene from one of my works.

I don't do a lot of humorous scenes - mostly because my own personal humor is very dry and sarcastic, and it doesn't really come across as very funny to anyone else. But I did do one story that I thought was funny - here's the funniest snippet from it.

Under the cut for length and very mild language:

"I didn't pinch you," he repeated simply, folding his hands in his lap and meeting her eyes with a calm smile. "I'm glad you had fun last night, though, Shepard. You needed a chance to unwind, and I think that 'girls' night out' was just the thing. I imagine it was good hooking up with Jack again, hey?" She eyed him narrowly, disconcerted by the emphasis he placed on the biotic's name. He met her gaze with his own, his expression so bland that she felt her eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

"What are you on abo- oh. Oh no." Sheer panic flowed through her voice as she scrambled out of the sheets, shoving him from the bed in her haste to gain her feet. Stumbling at the sudden disorientation of being upright, she grabbed at his arm to keep her balance until her head stopped spinning – or rather, decided to spin in only one direction rather than three. Once she was reasonably capable of movement, she made a staggering dash to the bathroom. "Oh my FUCKING GOD!"

Standing naked by the bed, Kaidan tucked his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, grinning broadly as he watched her shadow in the bathroom, easily able to picture what she was doing from its frantic movements. "Something wrong, Shepard?" he asked cheekily, and was rewarded with a view of her middle finger. "You just said you didn't want to do that."

"What the fuck is this? Lips? RED lips? Why did you let her do this to me, Alenko?" Tucking his tongue in his cheek, he mulled over his options, then sauntered towards the bathroom, careful to keep himself – and the more tender parts of his anatomy – out of her immediate reach. "Shit, shit, shit," he heard her muttering as he approached. "I sure hope Chakwas knows how to remove this crap. Oh man, oh man, who knows?"

Running his tongue over his teeth, Kaidan leaned to the side to catch a glimpse of his lover standing with her back to the bathroom mirror, legs splayed and one hand braced against the wall above the toilet as she stared down the line of her back. He knew exactly what she was seeing in the mirror – from his vantage, he had all too good a view. "I don't know, Shepard. I think it makes a statement."

"Alenko, kiss my ass."

"That would be the one. At least now, I know exactly where to do it."

When she flipped him off again, he decided it was as good a time as any to take her suggestions to heart – starting with one, and finishing with the other.

Send me an emoji for a snippet from one of my works!

Thank you for the ask!

[spectresbase]

Naughty November Day 16 + 18

Belated up load of some tweetfics. Forgot about Thankgiving when doing my math, so ended up merging a few days together. These combined themes were: Corruption - Business People - High Heels - Religious - Redhead - Muscles Enjoy the preview and read the rest below: Pulling her mouth off his cock with a sloppy *POP* Miranda arched her back, bending backwards to grab her own heels as she thrust her chest towards him. Just in time! Cum erupted from his head, ropy strands arcing out to splash in sticky ribbons squarely between her breasts.

Battles between cults were hardly uncommon, but rarely were they fought like this. Disguised, Xenerah let the enemy acolyte she'd been fucking slump in exhausted defeat and checked her people's progress. Her satisfied smile glistened with cum. Another temple had been converted.

Locked out of the fun but not out of earshot because Allura, the bitch, had left her mic on the whole time, Mira was in a state. By the time 626 returned to the ship, she was face down on the couch, fingers blasting her soaked twatt in a futile attempt to sate her need.

Linda was the UNSC's top scout, but even the best could get unlucky. Her bad luck dropped her right in the middle of a gang of naked Brutes. Killing them would be loud and alert the enemy. And it was shame to let those massive cocks go to waste. She'd subdue them another way.

Not everybody would like a lover able to lift not only them, but them and the bench they were sitting on. Ben wasn't most people. Looma curled the wooden platform, each set bringing Ben and his dick up into kissing or sucking range. Most fun Ben had ever had working out!

What started as a simple dare has spiraled into something Aether neither knows how to control, nor has any desire to. His addiction to cock has led to him deepthroating anybody who asks, caring more about getting to gag on their salty cum than he did about even his own reputation.

The bet was simple: If Lina made it across the bar in ballet heels, the bar cleared her tab.

If she overestimated her balance though and fell, she had to finish her walk on all fours, subjected to catcalls and insults. Considering how wet the idea made her, she won either way.

The ink hadn't even dried on the contract before Bruce Wayne had Emma Frost up on his desk, ripping her shirt open to nip at the slope of her breasts while she worked his belt free. Their sex was raw, aggressive and selfish. Just like the negotiations had been.

Mara's red gold hair fell in a curtain around Prelan's face, blocking out all but her as she leaned down to kiss him. Her hips ground against his in the slow, supremely self satisfied rolls of a woman coming down from a mighty climax and eager to enjoy every last aftershock.

You'd been a loyal cleric for over a decade. A stalwart servant of your god who'd taken pride in your faith. And all it took for you to abandon that faith was the slap of Remiel's divine shaft as it landed atop your upturned face. You were his long before he entered you.

When Spartan-058 failed to report in, a team was sent to find her. What they found instead was discarded Mjolnir armor, and a helmet recording showing the snipers not so slow decent into a Brute cock slut, culminating in her bathing in a shower of cum as she renounced the UNSC.

Heels weren't a common sight among Quarian culture, and it took Tali a little while to get the hang of walking in them. Shepard's reaction when she strutted into his cabin though made every embarrassing trip and fall more than worth it.

His cum soon sprinkled the boots.

With Lilo away at camp for a few weeks, Nani had to find something to occupy Stitch's time or else he'd do nothing fuck her stupid.

Maybe she could use that.

Counting the cash, she smirked as Kalani screamed and squirted all over the van's floor. Another satisfied costumer.

She was adept at countless interrogation techniques, yet you were fairly certain that the slow crushing of your head between Natasha's thighs had a lot less to do with getting information than it did with the heat you felt growing against the back of your neck.

When they'd started spitroasting her, all Cass was thinking about was escape. As climax after climax wore away at her self control though, she started to think less of freedom, and more of just what she could do to keep this Nightkin hard until Six eventually 'saved' her.

The buisnessman who'd hired her for the night hadn't so much as touched Mercy. Not even a finger. They'd been too busy emptying his balls into her high heels. Now, as she tipped the shoe back to drink her the creamy load, his fingers started to stroke anew.

Sue stripping out of the elegant gown and designer bra without stumbling in her heels was the second most impressive thing Johnny had seen that night.

The first was the way she was balancing on just one of those heels as she fucked him in a standing splits against the door.

Going undercover as a Nun brought back memories of just how repressed life in a convent could make a girl. Leia Mayson'd never been quite this horny, but there'd been times she hadn't been far off from the trio of sisters all eagerly slurping their way along her massive cock.

After admiring each other's muscles in the Gym, it wasn't long before She-Hulk and Thor took their admiring glances back to the bedroom for a different kind of workout.

Floors cracked and walks splintered under the power of their combined lust. The hotel sued for damages.

It hadn't been a direct path, or an immediate one, but by the time Shepard's coup put him in the Illusive Man's chair, the hero the galaxy knew was gone.

Two fingers in Miranda's cunt, he reviewed the report she held while a collared Maya Brooks and Aria licked his cock clean.

[mtreebeardiles]

The Odd Trio, pt 1

Also over on AO3!

In the end, he blamed the boxes. 

Little changes here and there over the course of months had been easy enough for Shawn to ignore, to see without seeing, to hear without listening, clinging to the idea that if he just refused to acknowledge the problem, the problem would go away. Illogical and he knew it, but admitting he knew it went against the rules of the game he'd made up inside his head, so he ignored that, too. Turned a blind eye to all of it really, from the slow emptying of shelves, to less and less groceries being bought, to longer interludes where Evvy and Kaidan spent more time on the planet down below. 

It started with the announcement that they were house-hunting. Shawn ignored this. Then came house-buying. Shawn ignored this, too. Then came a date set, a time to go with the place, circled in red marker on the calendar that glared at him every morning when he made his coffee.

He pretended he didn't know what it was for. 

But the boxes had the audacity of blocking the front staircase. Neatly stacked, clearly labeled, undoubtedly a nod to Kaidan's far superior organization skills, and it hit Shawn like a shuttle to chest. He stood there, frozen on the steps, fingers tight around his mostly-empty cup of coffee, all thoughts of what he intended to do once he got down to the first floor of their apartment flying from his head and replaced with a sense of dread so intense he wondered if maybe he'd throw up. 

This isn't happening. 

The boxes continued to block his path. 

They're not really leaving me here all by myself.

And technically… they weren't. Shawn knew that. Knew he wasn't the only one Evvy was leaving the apartment, knew their more recent roommates were staying put just as surely as Shawn was. 

But Joker and EDI weren't Evvy and Kaidan; it just wasn't the same. 

Shawn turned on his heel and marched back up the stairs, head buzzing with so much white noise that didn't start to clear until he'd pushed his way into the master bedroom, and only then so that feeling of dread could take center stage again. All the things he'd been ignoring were hitting him one after the other -- the walk-in closet, empty of most of its clothes; more boxes in the bathroom, tops still open to hold whatever odds and ends had been left for these final days. New bedding, crisp and stiff and it made Shawn's skin crawl as he plopped down atop it, right across from a very startled Everett. 

"Uh, Shawn? You…okay?"

"You're actually leaving?"

Evvy blinked at him, frowning. 

"…yes?"

"Like…actually, though?"

The frown deepened. 

"Shawn, we've talked about this -- we showed you the pictures of the house. It's on the calendar."

"Yeah, but…"

His brother watched him, bafflement at war with a growing concern. Shawn didn't like that; he didn’t like to see Evvy worried, or in pain, or broken down. 

And that's all this place ever does to him. 

That, at least, Shawn hadn't been able to ignore. 

It had started slow, but once it began it showed now signs of stopping. Everett's recovery had been long, painful, and arguably ongoing even to this day. But he was up and about, had some of his old energy back, ventured out more and more. He was visible again, noticed and noted, and he'd maybe had a handful of peaceful weeks before the bullshit started to come out in waves. 

A hero's welcome wherever he went, slowly easing into questions he knew Everett had answers for as surely as he knew he didn't want to give them. Was he returning to active duty? Surely the Savior of the Galaxy had earned enough accolades for several promotions, to assume command on a bigger, broader stage. And if not that, then perhaps he'd find his niche in the Council -- surely he'd be an overwhelming favorite should it come down to an actual vote this time. Other suggestions, other speculations less common, but all had the same underlying message: what was Everett Shepard going to give to them this time? What part of his heart, his soul, his body, and his mind was next for them to consume, what role would he find himself in to let them take, and take, and take some more? 

Because taking more from Everett Shepard had always been a given -- and no one had expected him to finally say no.

"He's retiring? He's not even thirty-five!"

"Nah, I don't buy it. He'll be back out there before you know it, setting records straight and making sure humanity gets its due after all this bullshit."

"He can't just give it all up -- what a fucking waste that would be! What's he gonna do, stay home and sit on his ass all day, watching TV? Work some regular ass job? Please."

Fame came with a lot of expectation, Shawn discovered, and Evvy's had always been soaked in blood. 

But time marched on; Evvy didn't re-enlist. Showed zero interest in the Council. Hero worship slipped so easily into open contempt, and as the galaxy began to piece itself together its politics turned as toxic as ever. Some blamed him for the war; others blamed him for Earth being hit first. Some were convinced the danger wasn't past, and insisted he do something about it. Insisted, really, that he owed them all something: owed them for their own pain, their own losses, their own shredded sense of normalcy. Receipts gathered only to be thrown in his face, what-about-isms running rampant, criticisms for the choices he'd been forced to make throughout the war. After all he'd done, all he'd orchestrated in the name of giving them all a chance, and it wasn't enough. 

It would never be enough. 

You can't take this from him, too. 

Even if the idea of not having him around so much made his chest hurt and his eyes smart. 

"Shawn?"

"Could've given me more warning, you know."

Evvy's frown inched from concern to outright disbelieving. "…Shawn, we talked about this months ago."

"Yeah! Well! That's hardly enough time for someone to consider life-altering events!"

"'Life-altering --' what? You're still living here!"

"Without you and Kay! With Joker and EDI! What if we don't get along!"

"They've been living here for nearly a year!"

"With us, and now it's gonna be just me! What if they try to change things --"

"--like what?"

"I don't know! What if Joker decides to sit on the right side of the couch? That's my side!"

"The apartment has like five couches, Shawn."

"And the right side of each is mine."

"I'm sure it won't be a problem."

"And I like the cupboards arranged a certain way! And the shelves! What if he decides on a whim that Kaidan's method is out and his own dumb system is better!"

"I don't think anyone would accuse Joker of being particularly 'whimsical.'"

"He better not be," Shawn muttered darkly. "I don't have the patience for that shit."

Evvy's lips twitched, curving ever so slightly upwards and he shook his head. 

"You're allowed to say you'll miss us, Shawn. It's okay."

"Pssh, yeah, right, this isn't about missing you it's about Joker's terrible taste in movies…"

"Shawn."

He bit at the inside of his lip, but forced himself to meet Evvy's eyes. His brother scooted closer, resting his hands on both of Shawn's shoulders and giving a little squeeze. 

"You're going to be okay," he said. "And it's not like you can't come visit, yeah?"

Shawn stared at him a moment, that awful feeling of dread twisting him up inside. 

He pushed it back down again.

"…yeah." He dropped his gaze, swiping impatiently at his eyes. Everett sighed, giving his shoulders another squeeze.

"C'mere."

He gave a tug and Shawn didn't resist, letting his brother pull him into a hug. 

"You're gonna be okay, Shawn," Everett murmured again, holding him tight. "Trust me."

And Shawn didn't answer, his throat too tight and the words too hard for him to find, so he just held him right back. 

Held him tight, and hoped that he was right. 

[ryosmne]

Three brats??

Dad!Sukuna x f!reader

So this is basically a comfort fic, featuring dad! Sukuna because the brainrot was too much. Ok so, the reader and Sukuna have a son together, yes their son is Yuuji, I know this is usually the single father Sukuna trope, but I wanted to give it a go, feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for brainrotting with me @likeab-o-s-s cause this is the reason this exists. That's all from me enjoy reading.

Warnings: none really, just family, heartwarming fluff.

The air was crisp and fresh, unusually refreshing for the beginning of summer. Parents were already gathered outside the daycare, Yuuji, y/n's and Sukuna's son attended, patiently waiting for their kids to run in their arms again.

Sukuna arrived a couple of minutes before the final bell on his motorcycle, he took off his helmet, leaned back on his bike and waited for the familiar little pink head of hair to come wobling to him.

The three mothers next to him, scooted a bit closer to him to get a better look nothing he's unfamiliar with and no one can blame them, Sukuna is a sight for sore eyes. Leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, extenuating his board shoulders, exposing his tattoo covered skin, v neck white t shirt, allowing his toned chest and even more of his tattoos to show and a simple black pair of pants hugging his muscular thighs in the best of ways.

In the past some of the bolder ones had mustered the courage and asked him if he was a single father since they had never seen his son's mother, but with a laugh Sukuna brushed them off telling them how his lovely wife was a working parent and her schedule just didn't match the daycares. Maybe the very unconventional wedding rings they got weren't the best idea in this situation, even though they were extremely beautiful and unique.

"I really admire the work you put in the little guy" Sukuna's gaze met a woman who attempted to strike a conversation, oblivious to what she had meant by her statement he replied, maybe these three minutes would pass faster talking about normal things and not stressing about work.

"Don't we all put work on our kids?" He spoke calmly with a slight smile that he always wore when talking about Yuuji.

"Yeah, we do, but it still must be hard I can't imagine what you're going through" Sukuna's mind went to the worst scenario. Was Yuuji a trouble maker at school? He is a very well behaved child, both him and y/n made sure to teach him proper manners and how to be polite, that couldn't be it right?

The bell rung, and kids made their way out of the daycare, Yuuji in the blink of an eye was hugging his father's leg, exited to see him after the hours he was gone. In a swift motion Sukuna put Yuuji's little backpack on his own back and scooped the boy up in his arm.

"Yuuji's a pretty good kid, hes never been difficult" Sukuna smilled again resuming in the short conversation with the woman next to him. "Single father's like you don't get the credit they deserve". She spoke again smiling sadly down to the little pink haired boy who seemed too fixated on the earrings his father was wearing.

Sukuna finally understanding what this whole thing was about, chuckled, this had happened before after all, he should've known.

"I'm not a single parent, speaking of that your mom said she has a big surprise for you after dinner" he said directing his attention to his son again, the woman next to him quickly fumbled an apology for missundertanding, to which Sukuna replied to with a simple 'dont worry about it'. He placed Yuuji on his bike, put on both his and his boys helmet and drove off.

Y/n was still stuck at work, thankfully her husband would cook dinner tonight cause overtime was killing both her and her mood, good thing she finally had a day off tomorrow.

Y/n checked her phone to see how close she was to going home only to find a text that Yuuji's teacher had send her that was obviously meant for her husband.

Hello Mr Itadori, this is Mrs Laura from the day care. I was wondering if you wanted to get launch with me after school tomorrow, you can bring little Yuuji too, I'm awaiting your response, have a nice night.

What the hell was that? Well y/n's number was in Yuuji's contact information, she chuckled at the words displayed on her screen but she couldn't really blame the teach, Sukuna was a walking temptation, she knew that first hand, hell she fell head over heels for the dangerous looking guy who hid a heart of gold under his hard exterior, but the teacher could at least check who the number belonged to.

Y/n run her last errands and made sure to pick up Yuuji's surprise before heading home, she even tipped Sukuna off so their son wouldn't know what hit him.

Y/n made her way inside the family house, tossing her keys somewhere on the living room couch.

Yuuji immediately after hearing her car in the driveway came rushing down the stairs, jumping around her like he always did when she came home.

"Mom, mom you're home." The happiness was evident in the boys face, his smile was wide when y/n dropped to his level to pick him up and spin him around

"Yes I am little devil, did you give your father hell like we agreed?" She spoke in the happiest of tones with Yuuji still in her arms. Another set of arms engulfed her frame making her halt on spinning the little boy.

"So you're telling him to be a little brat now huh?" Sukuna's breath tickled the side of her neck and ear as he rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. "Welcome home love" he spoke again giving her jaw a ghost of a kiss.

"Daddy is the food ready" Yuuji spoke from y/n's arms, Sukuna only laughed at his son's appetite, and directed both him and y/n to the kitchen where he had already set everything up.

"Mommy, what is a single dad?" Yuuji asked in the middle of dinner in typical fashion of his, any question he had from something he heard through the day would always come up during dinner.

"Well Yuuji, single fathers are the fathers who raise their kids alone." The young boy seemed to think about his mother's words before speaking again. "So its just a daddy ?" Yuuji asked again with his eyes growing a bit sadder, his mother nodded, and Yuuji's eyes started to water.

"Baby what's wrong?" y/n asked. "Hey buddy what's going on?" Sukuna was growing quite concerned too. Yuuji burst in tears leaving his seat, climbing up his dad and hugging him tightly. Sukuna was rubbing his back to comfort the young boy and y/n's hand was stroking the kids hair in an effort to calm him down. "B-but why did that lady c-call you that, is m-mommy l-leaving?" Everything seemed to click for Sukuna, y/n was still confused but in the calmest sweetest voice said "Yuuji, baby look at me, I'm not going anywhere ok?" And the boy left his father's arms and clung on to her like his life depended on it.

Sukuna cracked a few jokes and lightened Yuuji's mood so he could enjoy the rest of his dinner, which went pretty well, he was his smiling adorable self very soon after his parents reassured him that none of them were ever leaving his side and the boy was now drawing with crayons in the living room. He seemed to have completely forgotten about the surprise his father mentioned when he picked him up.

Y/n and Sukuna were doing the dishes in the kitchen, each one talking about their day, Sukuna explained the awkward conversation he had at the daycare that sparked Yuuji's sadness, y/n took a turn in talking about how her son's teacher, basically asked Sukuna out on a date but messed up and texted her. "How about you set up a date and you show up? I mean it's you she texted right?" Sukuna joked "Babe, that's cruel" y/n chuckled at her husband's mischievous nature.

"So you've got everything ready?" Sukuna asked. "yeah who'll bring him over?"

"You do it I'll keep Yuuji busy."

Sukuna joined Yuuji on the couch. "What are you drawing little brat?" Y/n heard him ask their boy in the usual sweet tone he had with him. She made her way down the basement, where she kept the surprise since she came home. Yuuji was going to love this, Sukuna was too, she knew she was already in love as well.

Y/n climbed the stairs quickly, and snuck up behind her son, who was occupied by his dad, she gently tapped the boys shoulder.

"A PUPPY" Yuuji announced exited making sure his voice was still soft not to scare the eager dog that his mom brought to his arms. Yuuji gently held the puppy that was licking his face as he was in a fit of laughter and excitement. Sukuna was as exited as his son and y/n had a huge smile on her face too. Their son had begged and begged for a dog ever since his best friend, Megumi got a black German shepherd puppy. Of course y/n and Sukuna wanted to comply to Yuuji's request right away, but they took time to teach little Yuuji everything there was about the responsibility of owning a dog. They took him to dog cafes and shelters, so he would be the perfect little dog owner, they taught him patience and responsibility beforehand. Sukuna visited the local shelter and decided with y/n on a white Shepard puppy that Yuuji always pointed out in your visits because 'he looks like Megumi's puppy they can be friends like we are' who can say no to that little adorable devil?

The puppy momentarily left Yuuji's arms to lick Sukuna's face. "Now we've got two little brats and a big one in our house." He laughed, enjoying the moment.

Y/n was admiring her son and husband as well as the newest member of the family with a smile plastered wide on her face, life was indeed beautiful.

The next day, both Sukuna and y/n were waiting for Yuuji to finish school, since y/n had the day off. Sukuna had his arm protectively around her because this time, others were staring at what was his, but he was proud to show her off to everyone, even in a place as mundane as his son's daycare.

[fiannans]

Something Blue (Mass Effect, Shakarian)

Title: Something Blue Fandom: Mass Effect Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1,018 Rating: E (Explicit) Pairing: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Summary: Shepard has a few surprises for Garrus on their wedding night.

Read on AO3.

The reception was finally starting to wind down when Shepard and Garrus made their excuses—greeted with much good-natured teasing by their friends—and retreated to the privacy of the honeymoon suite.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Shepard made a beeline for the enormous, turian-sized bed that dominated the main room. The luxuriously soft mattress sank beneath her weight as she lowered herself onto the end of the bed gratefully and slipped off her heels. Wiggling her cramped toes, she sighed in relief.

Garrus watched as she leaned back and stretched her arms over her head, his eyes filled with tenderness and affection. The slender gold band on his left wrist gleamed in the warm light of the lamps scattered around the room. Shepard touched the matching band on her ring finger, turning it slowly. Warmth spread through her chest and her eyes pricked with tears as she recalled the words etched in neat, cursive script on the inside of both bands. A memory and a promise for the future.

No Shepard Without Vakarian.

“How are you feeling?” Garrus asked.

“Tired,” she exhaled, closing her eyes, before looking up at him with a smile. “But happy.”

“Not too tired, I hope,” he said, giving her a meaningful look.

“Oh?” She tilted her head to the side, her voice light and teasing. “Did you have something else planned for tonight?”

With a mock growl of impatience at her attempt to play coy, he tugged her to her feet. Pulling her body flush against his so that her breasts pressed firmly against the hard surface of his carapace, he murmured in her ear.

“What do you think?”

A shiver ran down her spine and her nipples hardened in anticipation at the unspoken promise in his question. She was saved from having to try to formulate a reply by him changing the subject.

“Have I told you how much I love this dress?” he asked, fingers drifting across the bare skin of her back and leaving goosebumps in their wake. One hand slid over the curve of her ass and gripped her buttock, squeezing it firmly through the silk.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice today, yeah,” she replied, a little breathlessly.

“Well, I do,” he said, subvocals rumbling so low it almost sounded like he was purring as he nuzzled the side of her throat and nipped gently at the skin below her ear. “But I think I prefer you out of it…”

He slipped his talons under the thin spaghetti straps of her dress and eased them over her shoulders. Without anything to hold it up, the smooth silk slithered down her body like water and pooled at her feet, leaving her standing before him in nothing but a lacy blue g-string.

His brow plates lifted in surprise at the sight.

“It’s an old human wedding tradition from Earth,” she explained, feeling herself blush under his curious stare. “Kasumi told me about it. Wearing something blue on your wedding day is supposed to bring good luck.”

“Nice,” he said.

“I figured a little extra luck couldn’t hurt. Besides…” she smirked at him, “I’m fond of the colour blue.”

“It suits you,” he told her with a chuckle, running the tip of his talon along the waistband of the garment in question. “You should wear it more often.”

Crouching, he hooked two fingers under the sides of her underwear and pulled it down, inhaling sharply when he revealed her bare cunt. Normally Shepard went for a more natural look, only giving her pubic hair a trim now and then to keep it neat, but since it was a special occasion, she’d decided to shave it all off for something different and surprise him. Judging by the expression on his face, it had worked.

“Another human tradition?” he asked, voice a little unsteady.

“Something like that,” she said, suddenly nervous. “Do you like it?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, “I think I need to test it out first.” And he leaned forward and traced the tip of his pointed tongue lightly between the lips of her pussy, flicking it over her clit.

Shepard hissed and grabbed his shoulder to steady herself when her legs threatened to give out at the feel of his tongue on her hypersensitive skin. With the hair gone, every touch and sensation seemed heightened. She was already dripping wet and Garrus hummed with pleasure when he teased her folds apart gently with his talons so he could taste her properly. He lapped at her cunt, nose bumping against her clit, then dipped the very tip of his tongue into her entrance, making her gasp.

She continued to lean heavily on him, legs trembling, as he pulled his tongue out and then pushed it back inside her, deeper this time. With his hands on her knees, he urged her to spread her legs wider to give him better access. His long, flexible tongue slid in and out of her easily, fucking her with a skill and expertise no human tongue could ever match.

When he added one finger, blunted talon easing into her carefully, that was it. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she came, shuddering. Garrus held her up, letting her ride out her orgasm before he scooped her up, carrying her easily to the bed.

He laid her down on the cool, crisp sheets and quickly shed his suit before stretching out naked on the bed beside her, looking smug. Shepard turned her head to smile at him, her heart rate and breathing gradually returning to normal.

“So,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “What’s the verdict, Mr Shepard-Vakarian?”

“Hmm,” Garrus said thoughtfully, pretending to think it over. “I don’t know, Mrs Shepard-Vakarian.” His mandibles twitched and he shot her a wicked look that sent a fresh jolt of desire through her. He moved down her body, nudging her legs apart so he could lean down between them, and very slowly and deliberately breathed over her wet cunt, making her gasp.

“I should probably do some more research before I decide.”

[wrathbites]

The many times...

Shepard and Alenko were in close proximity, and the one time they did something about it (in other words, welcome to the “Into Darkness” vampire verse, and in typical fashion, no, I’m not starting at the beginning of it lol)

~

1/?

He’s trapped in a cocoon of dark energy, not quite a stasis field but definitely the threat of one, Shepard’s presence a layer of frost biting down to the bone.  Kaidan inhales, ready to flare, when the hand over his mouth tightens and Shepard’s breath ghosts over his ear.  So close, too close, much too close.

“Listen,” he whispers and Kaidan has no choice but to obey as someone passes underneath.  An even tread, gone sharp and intent, heels an impractical clack across the floor.  Miranda, it must be, still riled from their argument and on the prowl for him.

Too bad the actual hunter aboard snagged him first.

She makes two trips up and down the hall before slowing directly below, likely noting the biotic snare above her head — but Shepard hisses, a hair-raising, nerve-jangling warning that has Kaidan trying and failing to slide a barrier between them, smothered again by Shepard’s field, and she moves on without a word.

Peace at last, except for the vampire pressed up against his back, blocking him from dropping down from the... crawl space between floors?  Maintenance shafts?

“Figured you could use an escape route, Alenko,” Shepard says.

“You... heard that, huh?”

“Only all of it.  The joys of a vampire’s heightened senses.”

“Do I even want to know what else you can hear?”

Silence, broken only by his own breathing, then a thoughtful hum and the faint crackle of the not-quite stasis field pulling back, dispersing.

“Your heartbeat, slowing now.  A bit dangerous, don’t you think, around a vampire?”

“Oh, fuck off,” he snaps back and Shepard laughs, a sound Kaidan feels everywhere they touch — almost.... everywhere in such a tight space.  He barely has time to register Shepard moving, the scrape of a latch coming loose, before he’s falling straight down, too quick to brace for —

Until he’s upright, all of a sudden, not a thump or bruise to be had, Shepard in his face and hands steady on his shoulders when he staggers.

Fucking vampire reflexes.

“You all right?”

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

Shepard grins, fangs and all.  It’s nowhere near as frightening as it probably should be.  “You’d be bored if I wasn’t, Alenko.  Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes around here.”

“And it has to be you?” Kaidan asks, stepping back.  A move mirrored.

“Why not?” Shepard replies, then: “Lawson’s in the observation lounge.  Might want to find a different haunt for a while, Alenko.”

Kaidan slams to a halt mid-step, biting back a curse, then about turns to head in the opposite direction, aware of those grey eyes tracking him.

Fuck Cerberus.  Fuck their bullshit.  And especially fuck the vampire damn determined to give him a heart attack by popping out of the ship’s many nooks and crannies like some demented jack in the box.

[prettylightsbigcity]

Day 11 - Family

Dec 5, 2021 Simon, Baz, Shep, Penny, Niamh, & Agatha head home after a night out dancing. Post-AWTWB. Rated T for mild references to drinking. Read below or over on ao3.

***

Simon

We stumble to the tube platform, draping our arms over each other’s shoulders, giggling about nothing and shushing each other more loudly than we were laughing in the first place. At some point, Agatha announces that she’s “absolutely fucking finished” with her high heels, and plops down on the kerb to unbuckle them and take them off. Penny tries to convince her that she can’t walk eight more blocks barefoot, but Agatha is determined. The two of them going head to head is frankly terrifying, but thankfully Niamh steps in and diffuses the whole situation by offering Agatha a piggyback ride. Agatha hops up gamely, her tiny skirt riding up a little further than I think she’d prefer. Baz steps in smoothly, taking off his blazer and draping it over Agatha’s shoulders like a cape. He winks at me and leans in close as he whispers in my ear.

“Can’t have your eyes wandering to anyone except me tonight, Snow.”

“As if,” I snort, rolling my eyes and snaking my arm around his waist.

We walk a few more blocks before Shepard declares that we need a break, and almost everyone agrees immediately. Shep leads us all into a McDonald’s like the Pied Piper, and we order a truly staggering number of burgers, milkshakes, and chips. We crowd around one long table. There aren’t quite enough seats, so Shep pulls Penny down on his lap, and Baz stands behind my chair, leaning down and twining his arms around my neck as he rests his head against mine. I can smell the rum on his breath. When our order is called, Niamh and I head up to the counter to collect the trays and bring them back to everyone else. We fall on the food like hungry wolves; even Agatha is stuffing her face, a blob of ketchup dripping onto her chin. It cracks me up.

“Aggie,” I chuckle, “you’ve got a little something, right there,” I say, indicating my chin. 

“What?” she asks, snatching a napkin and wiping at completely the wrong spot. 

“C’mere, gorgeous,” Niamh tells her, grabbing her jaw between her thumb and forefinger. 

We all groan as Niamh leans over and licks Agatha’s chin. Penny chucks a straw wrapper at them, and we all join in, balling up napkins and flinging little packets of condiments at the two of them. Niamh looks ready to give in, but then Agatha grabs her around the neck and snogs her senseless, raising her other hand to give us all the middle finger. Her nails are red and sparkly. 

 Baz

The staff at the McDonald’s ask us to leave. They’re polite about it, but there’s no doubt that they’re fed up with us. I can’t blame them; we’re all three sheets to the wind, and at one point, Shepard started singing at the top of his lungs and tried to stand on a table. We pulled him down, but still… it wasn’t his finest moment. 

It’s two more blocks to the train, and Niamh is getting quite red in the face carrying Agatha. I squeeze Simon’s hand and then release it, sidling over to them. 

“I’m tapping in,” I whisper to Niamh.

She looks like she might argue for a moment, but then she nods and stops stumbling along the sidewalk. 

“Let go, Ags,” she says, and Agatha, who seems to be nearly asleep, releases her grip from around Niamh’s neck.

I’m ready for her, and I catch her in my arms as she slides off of Niamh’s back like a wet noodle. Unfortunately, she still had my blazer draped around her shoulders, and it slips off and tumbles to the ground. Niamh reaches down to grab it, and I nod my thanks. I hoist Agatha up, getting a better grip under her knees and shifting her so her head falls against my shoulder. Niamh drapes the blazer over her sleepy girlfriend.

“Thanks, Basil,” she says quietly.

“Don’t mention it,” I reply, “now, let’s catch up to the rest of these ruffians.”

I stride forward quickly; Agatha’s weight is hardly a hindrance for me. Niamh falls into step beside me. 

 Simon

We decided to go back to Shep and Penny’s flat, partially because it’s the least number of tube stops, but also because they have the most space. When we get there, Shep can’t get the key in the door, and we’re all piled up in the hallway, trying not to fall into another laughing fit. “Open sesame!” Penny declares dramatically, and the door flies away from Shep’s blundering fingers and smacks against the wall inside. 

“Oops,” she giggles, and Shep rolls his eyes.

“Baby, I thought we said no drunken spellwork,” he says, stepping into the flat and inspecting the wall for damage.

“Pssssshhh,” Penny says eloquently, following him inside and waving her hand for the rest of us to follow. 

We all tumble into the familiar living room. I shrug out of my jacket, plonk myself onto the sofa, and tug Baz down too, half on top of me. I sneak my hands under his shirt as he tries to wiggle away, pinning him close to me. He sighs and relents, slumping down and nuzzling his cold nose against my ear. 

“Babe, can you let my wings out?” I whine.

“Get Bunce to do it,” Baz murmurs against my neck, distracting me with tiny kisses.

“Penny!” I yell.

“What?” she screams from the kitchen.

“Crowley, I hope you lot put up silencing spells on this flat,” Niamh says, dropping down on the other end of the sofa.

“Agatha asleep?” Baz asks.

“Yeah,” Niamh nods, “she’s in the spare room. Sorry, that means you two are stuck with the couch.”

I shrug; Baz groans. Penny storms into the living room with a tray of tea in her hands.

“Simon!” she squawks, “why were you calling me?”

I pause.

Why was I calling Penny?

“Wings,” Baz whispers helpfully. 

“Oh yeah! Can you let my wings out?” I ask.

Penny finishes setting down the tray on the coffee table. She marches over to a bookcase, frowns, and turns round to walk in the other direction.

“Looking for something?” Shep asks, appearing in the doorway with Penny’s little black handbag dangling off of one finger.

“Brilliant!” Penny cries, snatching the bag.

“Woah there, not so fast,” Shep retorts, grabbing her around the waist as she tries to make her way back to the sofa, “what did we say about casting while intoxicated?”

“S’barely casting,” I protest, and Shep relents, letting Penny pull him over to the overstuffed armchair in the corner. 

He sits, and Penny promptly deposits herself on his lap, opening her handbag and digging through it like a woman possessed. A compact goes flying in one direction, her glasses case in another.

“Snow’s right,” Baz pipes up, lifting his face from where it had been resting against my collarbone, “she already did all the difficult magick; now she just has to ring the bell to undo it.”

“Aha!” Penny exclaims triumphantly. 

She pulls a little silver bell from her bag and holds it out in front of her.

“Wait—” Shep starts, but it’s too late.

Pen rings the bell, and my wings explode into existence, tearing through my t-shirt and knocking everything off the end table next to the sofa.

“Oops,” Penny and I say in unison. 

Niamh starts laughing so hard that she snorts, and once Baz joins in, I’m a goner. A moment later, all five of us are all howling, holding onto our aching sides as tears run down our faces.

“What in Merlin’s name…?” 

Agatha is standing in the doorway, wearing Niamh’s flannel and rubbing her eyes as she glares at us all. Penny takes one look at her and cracks up all over again, and the rest of us can’t help but follow suit. Even Aggie joins in. 

“You’re all completely mental,” she grouses, but she’s chuckling as she comes over and sits on the rug at Niamh’s feet, laying her head in her lap. 

These are the best kind of nights, I think as my face starts to hurt from all the smiling, this is my family.