#burner's lil happy trail down there...

[sparkpop]

I thought my human robot master designs for both Burner and Dyna here would fit in the P&S style and I was right!

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

House Husbands ft SatoSugu

househubby!Sato is overjoyed with his decision to shift his focus solely on taking care his overworked little wife. He feels worthless in his own line of work because regardless of his efforts, nothing ever changes. Being at your beck and call, making you happy.. It's all Satoru needs outta life and he's never felt more fulfilled.

househubby!Sugu is absolutely exhausted dealing with the internal war rampaging his thoughts, distorting his morality into a demon he can't recognize. But the unyielding love and support of his nonsorcerer wife is enough to suffocate his uncertainty. And Suguru's proud that with your help, he's able to shed all the toxic doubt and decides to dedicate his life to the woman that saved him.

househubbies!SatoSugu refuse to acknowledge the absolutely ridiculous qualms that they're putting their wants and needs on the back burner to take care of you. They constantly remind you that you're everything they'll ever desire in life; that they could only continue to witness curses bring the world to its knees long as they could always be there to keep you safe.

househubby!Sato is on pins and needles waiting for you to come home every single day. Bouncing on the tips of his toes like an anxious child, tense as fuck while pacing like a madman. "Relax, Toru. She gets in the same time every evening. Rilin yourself up for no reason." Suguru chuckles from the stove, finishing up dinner. "But she's been gone for hours and I miss heeer." Satoru whines like a brat, wholeheartedly feeling like his partners calm demeanor was nothing more than pure utter cap. "Quit actin like you don't want her home too. Listened to you fuckin your fist to that video of her in the bathroom earlier." Electric blue eyes narrowed, slender finger pointed accusingly in a sputtering Suguru's direction. "Will you just finish settin the damn table before y/n gets home!" He hisses back, shame licking warmth across his cheeks. "Fuckin creep Toru, I swear.."

househubby!Sugu consistently rescues you from a needy Satoru's overbearing 'welcome home' after each grueling work shift. Heroically puts himself in-between the world's strongest sorcerer and woman of their shared affections; effectively untangling you from the bone crushing embrace and ambush of kisses. "Seriously gonna smother her one of these days, idiot. Actin like she's gonna disappear or somethin." Suguru chastised, scooping you up in his own snug embrace and pecking your lips in adoration. Only a second in the kiss turns way too passionate for Satorus liking and he immediately despises the soft mouth moving slowly against your own, so damn sensually. "Lies! You just want y/n all to yourself." Satoru pouts listening to your tiny hums of pleasure as he stomps off to pour his tired little wife a glass of wine.

househubbies!SatoSugu make it a daily routine to lay you out after work and massage the accumulated tension outta every inch of your depleted frame while askin bout your day; coppin a feel as they simultaneously knead your stressed ridden muscles till you lay limp and aroused on the bed. "Fuuuck, y/nnn. Look so good spread out like this for us. Wanna continue to make our girl feel good.. Gonna let us play in that pussy for a lil bit?" Satoru speaks low at your ear, leaving sweet kisses down your neck and your shoulders when you nod. "Lemme and Sugu relax our perfect lil wife even more. Know you want this pipe, baby. Let us make you cum, deserve that and so much more. Can we, princess, hm? Work so goddamn hard every. fuckin. day." Print of his mouth leaving goosebumps over your sensitive skin while grippin on your love handles, lips trailing lower and lower as Suguru takes his place at your ear. "'S all up to you, babygirl. Tables set; blunts rolled.. Can go smoke and eat, maybe come lay back down after.. Rub ya pretty feet till you pass out inste-," "mmmfuuuck, Toru.. Oh! Yeees, right there.. Oh, oh- tongues so deep, Daddy." You interrupt, breathless moans loud and airy as Satoru spreads your doughy chocolate cheeks and digs inside you further. Pulling back to lap at your slick like a kitten does milk. Suguru chuckles when you shamelessly groan your pleasure all up in his face. "Play in that pussy it is then, babygirl."

househubby!Sato slipped into domestic bliss quite effortlessly. He's proud to admit his biggest worry these days is how mad Suguru gets when he forgets to separate the whites from the colors. "Dammit Gojo!" Satoru flinches from the spot between your legs, head snapping away from his video game to the rapid footsteps barging his direction from the bedroom. You continue to card your fingers through his soft hair, chuckling when a furious Suguru appears clad only inna pair of tight white briefs splotched with pink, holding a pair of your panties. "How many fuckin times have I told you not to mix colors with whites?! I gotta whole basket full of pink boxers cause you never pay attention to what the fuck your doin!" But Satoru only gives him the saddest puppy dog eyes he can muster while trying to ignore his Fallout character getting absolutely slaughtered by a Deathclaw. "I'm sorry! Just wanted to help with the chores. You know it wasn't on purpose, Big Daddy." His taunting and dramatic fluttering lashes have you both clutching your tummies in serious efforts to hold in your guts from the raucous laughter. But Suguru is less than impressed. He seethes in silence for a few moments before growling out through clenched teeth. "Both of you shut the fuck up.. Know what? Get over here and hurry up. Now.. On your fuckin knees." It was interesting start to your day off to say the least..

househubby!Sugu! likes to the play the role and has no problem keeping his brats in place. He's good at being the perfect Daddy with only one demand: utter compliance. And he doesn't tolerate disobedience. "I know that- ah ah ah. Slow, baby. Slow.. All the way down. Mmmmm.. Jus like that." Suguru tightens his grip on the soft locks, using them as leverage to control the pace of him dipping his cock in and out of his lovers throat. "I know it's confusing baby, sooo confusing to my girl hmm? He's your Daddy too. Aint that right? Oooh shit, suck it harder.. Mmm, ohhh yeaah- oh fuuuck!" Suguru huffs hoarsely, head fallin back in pleasure before he looks down and stares into your eyes heatedly, your gaze making his nut creep closer. "But I'm his Daddy, sweetheart. And it's time I- fuuuuck, 'm close! T-time to teach you both a lesson. Ready Toru?" Suguru slides a hand into your kinky y/h/c hair, yanking you closer to his hips and buss heavily into Satoru's waiting mouth. "Mmmmph!" Your poor husband struggles and chokes around the first gush, gagging harshly when Suguru slides his dick in deeper. "So bad at t-takin dick, Toru." He teases, wide tip knockin into glaring Satoru's abused throat; spurting twice more and flooding it with thick pearly cream. "Fuckin hell, Toruuuu! Oh God, Saaatoruuu!" Suguru moans filthily, snatching his cock and aiming at your pretty face. "Ah, ah- mmmnnh! Take it, take the rest of Daddy's nut, mama." Suguru's cum blankets your cheeks and lips in three milky streams. "G-good boy.. Ohhhh, my good giiirl, y/n." He praises when you and Satoru gently suck and lick at the oozing head of his throbbing cock, prolonging the intense pleasure.

househubbies!SatoSugu! try not to ravish you too often because of your hectic schedule but there's nothing to save you from their fiendish antics when you take your mini vacations. Time off with your husbands is nothing short of more work for you. At the very least, it's a very thorough and strenuous workout. They very consistently keep you stuffed: with happiness, love, and of course dick. "Toru- ah f-fuck.. Don't do this to me, Daddy pleeease!" You cry for your husband to give your puffy overused coochie reprieve but he's consistent with his denial. "Shhh, princess, shhhh. You're okay, you can take it. Gotta be quiet though. Me and Sugu both worked so damn hard to fuck this pretty chocolate lil pussy so good.. Don't wanna wake him up after all his hard work do you, baby?" He sucks and nibbles on your folds incessantly, grinning when the pressure of his thumb at your overstimulated clit makes you shriek and gasp for air. "Bullshit, Toru. Got her screamin her fuckin head off." Suguru exhales tiredly with closed eyes, scooping your trembling body closer into his side as you writhe from the intense sensation swirling between your legs; head thrashing from side to side on his broad chest. "Daddy, please! A-already came three t-times tonight. Ahhhnm, oh oh- needa a break, pleeease!" Your increasingly desperate cries raising in volume have Suguru's half hard dick filling full as he peeks down between your thick brown thighs, making direct eye contact with a sadistic Satoru. Who ofcourse gives a naughty wink, mouthing 'watch this' to an intrigued Suguru and latches on to your throbbing nub to nurse on you hungrily; pulling off repeatedly with acute bursts of suction that have you wordlessly keening as you squirt impressively allover Satoru's swollen pink lips inna messy glaze. You cum so fuckin hard, hands shooting to anchor themselves in Suguru's dark roots; plushy frame jerking erratically in attempt to twist away from the suffocating pleasure. "Fuuuck, Look at that.. Got her raining cum all over your pretty face, Toru. Gotta be the hardest our lil wife's eva came." Suguru admits, putting his ego aside. Too preoccupied with wetting up Satoru's face to notice how your husbands stare into each other's eyes, dicks pulsing and raging between their legs.

househubby!Sato despises Suguru's all work no play attitude. After an entire week of repetitive chores and errands in addition to no sex, Satoru's dying to get home so one of his spouses can drain his fat sack dry. "..need a warm tight hole to slide into. Been so fuckin pent up.. Babygirl is gone entirely way too much lately." He complains as Suguru drives them back to the house. "Well you know y/n's been workin hard as hell towards that big promotion, Toru. Left for work at like 5 this morning.. She'll probably need some rest and jus wanna cuddle after work." Suguru reminds him. Satoru manspreads with a huff, head slamming back into the headrest and groans in agreement. Well if not y/n then.. "What bout you? Been a minute since my handsome husband had a good nut. Don't you.. Need some relief?" Satoru asks, voice low and deep. Fingers slinking into his husbands hair scratching at his scalp lightly, his other hand caressing up and down his muscled thigh. Suguru gulps audibly, adam apple bobbing as he concentrates with all his might to keep his eyes on the road. "Uhhh.." Satoru's clear invitation instantly has him rock hard and remembering that last time he had the strongest man in the world on his back while you were at work. Filth spewing from his mouth that eventually went quiet and slack when Suguru held down his wrists and grinded in deep as fuck over and over. Damn, the slutty way Satoru kept rolling his narrow hips.. Effectively fuckin himself on Suguru's dick with the prettiest flush on his chest, strands of snowy locks plastered to his damp creased forehead, stiff untouched cock twitching and smearing precum between them. "Sugu? Still with me?" Satoru asks, cheeky smirk alluding to knowing exactly what's on his husbands mind. Suguru clears his throat and nods, mouth dry and parched; immediately in dire need of a drink of the tall glass of water sitting next to him. "Well? You gonna fuck me before y/n gets home or nah?" Another curt nod from Suguru has Satoru grinning like he just one the lottery, greedily groping his spouses bulge the rest of the ride home.

househubby!Sugu feels like he can only indulge his husbands despicable fantasies when all duties have either been prepped or taken care of. Therefore he feels absolutely guiltless when he's halfway to heaven and his cell rings, your parents number popping up on the screen. Satoru stares at Suguru in disbelief as he pulls away and gets outta bed. Mouth running a mile per minute to your dad while he hops around the room trying to get his leg into his pants. ".. Alright, bet.. Love you too pops.. Bye." He ends the call and turns to a disheveled frowning Satoru, reaching up to swoop his long hair up inna bun. "The fuck, Suguru-," Satoru starts but his protests are swiftly dismissed. "Don't start. They just need one small lil favor. Plus, Moms said she missed you cause you didn't come by with us last time y/n and I visited." Satoru sighs in acknowledgement and quickly chucks on his clothes, features softening considerably. "I do miss Mama y/l/n. Wanted to run a few things by her for y/n's birthday surprise anyway." He shrugs, slipping into his black nike slides. "Alright, sounds like a plan- oh! She said to tell you she's got your favorite mochi wai- Gojo, WHAT THE FUCK!" Suguru sentence abruptly cutting off, consumed in horror that Satoru just teleported them into your parents kitchen clad only in a pair of black jeans. "Christ almighty!" Your mom jumps at their sudden appearance and Suguru's exclamation, holding her pounding heart and sternly eyeing your husbands up and down. "Sup Mom, where is it?" Satoru gets straight to the point, kissing your mom's cheek and skipping off to the garage freezer when she points. "Hell is wrong with that boy?" Your mom asks the sanest of the two, already heading to grab Suguru a shirt and some socks. "So many things, Ma. How much time you got?"

househubbies!SatoSugu are both pleasantly surprised when you pull up to your parents spot after work and tell them there's something that's been on your mind for the past few weeks. "Spill the beans, princess. Can't believe you waited this long to tell us." Satoru gives his signature pout as he pulls you down to sit on the couch in-between them. "Yeah, sweetheart. You know we don't keep secrets. Tell us what's been on your mind." So you take a deep breath before you launch into your mini speech. "I love you both so much, never ever dreamed I'd be lucky enough to marry my soul mates. And I know we've talked about kids but my job has always made that impossible but today I got the promotion." Your husbands are ready to click their heels in excitement at your news but you hush sweet words with a finger to their lips. "But that's not all. I- uh. I make my own schedule now and haveso much more time on my hands that I think- um.." You stall a bit, nervous as fuck. "Y/n spit out already. Got us on the edges of our seat here." Satoru groans at your reluctance. "Honey, what's goin on?" Suguru questions with concern. "I stopped taking birth control so we can have a baby!" Your hands pop over your mouth at the outburst but your men already have that look in their eye and quickly close in on your tense frame. "That's all? So anxious just to tell us you wanna get bred tonight?" Satoru teases, gripping your hips and kissing your cheek. "That right, sweet wife?" Suguru sneers, loving how your breath speeds as they feel you up. "You want us both to put a baby in that needy lil pussy tonight?" You're only able to nod and moan as Satoru takes that moment to slip his tongue into your mouth and grope your tit roughly. Suguru watches with a sly smile as your other husbands assault evolves into finger fuckin you while inhaling your soft pretty cries. "Time to say bye bye, princess. Your Daddies need time alone with our perfect lil wife now." Suguru finally says after watching for a couple minutes, pulling you from a distraught Satoru and ushering you towards your parents. "And we're leaving your car. Tell em I'll pick it up tomorrow." Satoru demands as he sucks your slick from his fingers. You do as they say like always. And since you so sweetly asked for a baby, your generous husbands happily give you two tonight.

[scuttling]

Trophy Husband

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 2,188 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad bod Hotch, Insecure Hotch, Dry humping, Unprotected sex, a lil Daddy kink Summary: Requested by anon: “maybe some dad bod hotch smut? like where he’s newly retired and hasn’t been working out as much and the reader worships his body bc he’s been feeling a little insecure” I love some dad bod Hotch, so happy to fill this request! Link to A03 or read below!

“No, we’re not doing forced overtime again. If you want my team to put out more consults, then we need to hire more profilers.” You walk through your front door and into the kitchen, smiling when you see Aaron standing over the stove, holding a wooden spoon and stirring something that smells amazing. “With all due respect, I’m not concerned about the budget, sir; if my people are as valuable as you stated, then I expect them to be taken care of.”

Aaron looks back at you, wrinkles his nose, and you make a motion with your hands—blah, blah, blah—which makes him chuckle.

“I agree completely, sir. That’s a great idea. If you send down the requisitions tomorrow, I’ll start interviewing on Monday. No, thank you. Good night.” You lock your phone, set your bag on the stool closest to you, and sigh. “Was it this hard to get stuff done when you were the unit chief?”

“No, it’s definitely harder now, but you make it look easy. And sexy,” he says with a smirk, and you walk over to him; he offers a taste of what he’s making—it looks like paella, and your stomach rumbles—and you lean in to take a bite off of the spoon, looking up at him and flicking your tongue over your lips. His eyes get dark.

Even after ten years of marriage, he’s so easy to get going, it’s almost unfair.

“Delicious, daddy, thank you.” You stand up fully, and he turns back to the stove; your arms wrap easily around his waist, cheek pressed to the soft, worn t-shirt that covers his back. “How was your day? Are you still enjoying the life of a trophy husband?” He snorts, muscles tensing enough that you can feel it where you rest.

“Hardly.” He was in such a good mood a moment ago that this feels like a complete 180; profiler or not, you know your husband, and something’s on his mind. You tighten your embrace, and he shrugs you off a little, and that is practically unheard of. You stand, take a step back to look at him.

“What’s wrong? You aren’t getting bored of retirement already, are you? It’s only been six months.” He sighs, shakes his head. You’re sure you look confused.

“No, retirement is fine; it’s great, actually, it’s not that.” Typical Aaron, always making you drag this shit out of him. For being so sweet and kind, he’s still not that great at being open, even though you make every effort to encourage it.

“What is it, sweetheart? Something is obviously bothering you; we should talk about it.” Another deep exhale, and he turns off the burner, moves the pan of food off of the heat, and turns to face you fully.

“I imagine you already know.” You shake your head, shrug, and he gestures to himself, to his body. You feel stupid, like there’s something you’re missing.

“Aaron, love of my life, I don’t have any idea what this means.” You mimic his previous motion, and he rolls his eyes, which you can’t stand, and he’s well aware of that. “You’ve got to give me more than that, or I can’t help.”

“You can’t help, it just… is.” He sighs, and his shoulders deflate. You move closer, to touch him, comfort him, but he takes a step back. “I know I’m not the ‘trophy husband’ you probably expected me to be. I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

You do your best to put together these cryptic sentences, the hand gesture, and when realization finally dawns on you, you can’t help it: you laugh.

Aaron turns away, and you know that was shitty, feel instantly terrible, so you reach out to put a gentle hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you, it’s just… you don’t think you’re hot anymore?” He turns to face you, looking at you like he’s tired of your shenanigans, which… after this long, he should be plenty used to them, so the look does nothing for you.

“I’ve gotten… soft, I think that’s obvious.” At that, you smirk a little, move your hands to the button on his jeans.

“Oh, I don’t think there’s anything soft about you, Aaron. Why don’t you let me put your cock in my mouth, and we’ll check again.”

“You wanted me to talk, I’m talking.” His tone is a little admonishing, and you kind of deserve it, so you stop being horny for a second and take a deep breath.

“You’re right. Sorry. So… you’re exercising less, because obviously you don’t need to be as fit anymore, since you’re not working. Am I following?” He nods his head. “Okay, and you’re feeling… insecure about the way your body looks now, because of it.”

“Yes. Especially when you, Unit Chief Hotchner, are kicking ass and looking fucking delicious doing it, and then you have to come home to me.”

It’s like a switch is flipped in you, at those words. Oh hell no.

“Hold on here. I don’t have to come home to you, I get to come home to you; every night I do, it’s like a dream come true, and on the nights I don’t get to come home to you, I dream about it. I dream about being in your arms—strong arms, always, even if they’re less defined—and I dream about making love to you and fucking you and everything in between. You: not the Aaron of two months ago or six months ago or five years ago. You.”

He looks your face over—you’re getting fired up and you know it, and it turns him on and you also know that—and then the two of you come together for a deep, desperate kiss. Your hands fist in his hair, his roughly grab your ass, and when you pull back for air he turns you so you’re bent over the counter, searches for the zipper of your skirt.

“No!” He freezes, then steps back, and you stand up, flushed. “I’m sorry, not no—just, not here.” He blows out a breath, and you kiss him softly, sorry you scared him. “It’s just that… I want to lay you back on our bed, completely naked, and I want to put my mouth and my hands on you, everywhere. I want you to see what your body does to me, exactly as it is right now. I get that that might make you feel a little vulnerable, but will you let me?” You press your lips to his again, put your hands gently on his face. “Let me, baby.”

He nods, and you take his hand, take him to your bedroom. He’s visibly nervous, so you move his hands to your body, let him strip you naked first. He always takes pleasure in this, whether he is ripping the buttons off your favorite blouse or softly mouthing at your thighs while he drags your panties down your legs, and tonight is no exception.

“So beautiful, baby,” he murmurs as he finds that zip and drags it down, helping you step out of the skirt. You kick off your heels, and he unbuttons your top—carefully, tonight—then unhooks your bra, pulls you close and kisses your neck and chest so deliciously you almost forget what brought you here.

You lick your lips, shake yourself from the haze of submission you always feel when his mouth is at your throat, and your hands flick open the button of his jeans, tug down the zipper, guide his pants to the floor. He steps out of them, and you kiss his mouth.

Your hands move up, to the hem of his t-shirt, but you do nothing. He smirks, pulls it over his head, because he knows you love that hot guy way of pulling a t-shirt off with one hand, and he happens to be a master of it. You do your best not to drool.

“Mmm. You know exactly what I like, Aaron. There’s nobody in this world who could turn me on like you, who could get me off like you.” He licks his lips, and you get on your knees, running your hands down his body as you go. “Toes to nose, you are exactly who and what I want. Don’t ever forget that.”

You start low, press your lips to the tops of his feet, then his ankles, his calves, his knees. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, but you keep moving up, slowly, until your hands find the waistband of his underwear and you pull them down. His cock springs up—this in particular is never a problem, no matter his age—and you kiss up his thighs and then rise to stand.

“Baby,” he breathes, and you lean up for a kiss, drop your panties. He grabs a fistful of your hair, takes another, rougher kiss, then releases you; you’re panting hard, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. God, he’s good. How could he ever doubt his sex appeal when he makes you this much of a horny, eager mess with just a kiss?

You guide him back to the bed because he’s too tall for you to reach everywhere standing up; you start at his right wrist, kiss your way to the crook of his elbow, over his biceps, to his shoulder. You trail your lips over his collarbone, his throat, pausing to nibble on his earlobes, to peck him on the tip of his nose.

“I love you so much, Aaron. You are and always will be perfect in my eyes. I barely even notice when you’re being a dick anymore,” you joke, and he laughs; steamy and sexy is really good, but it’s your favorite when he laughs.

You kiss down the other side of his neck, down his arm, but this time you bring his hand up and suck on his middle and ring fingers, taking them so deeply you can flick your tongue over his wedding ring. He groans, you groan, it’s really hot. Your pussy throbs.

“Fuck, baby.” You pull them out of your mouth with an innocent smile, and then straddle his legs, leaning forward to suck and bite kisses all over his stomach and hips, avoiding his cock altogether. “Oh, god, that feels so good,” he breathes, reaching for your hair, and you slide your arms up his chest, squeeze the muscles there that are softer, but still present, while you kiss wetly along his belly.

“Mmm,” you moan while you kiss, because you’re kind of… lined up tight against his thigh, and it feels really good.

You keep kissing, all over, sloppy, eager kisses, rubbing his chest and grinding against his thigh, and it’s a surprise to you both when you come, looking up at him with your mouth open and your nails digging into his skin.

“Holy fuck,” you sigh when you’re done—there’s no sugarcoating this—humping his leg, and he licks his lips, wraps his hands around your arms, and maneuvers you on onto your back, slides his cock easily inside you where you’re wet and warm. “Yes, Aaron.”

“Oh, baby. Fuck, I love you,” he groans, and he laces your fingers with his and tucks his face against your neck. You love when he gets like this, so desperate to come but so soft, so loving, and you squeeze him with your legs, push your body into his thrusts.

“Like that, honey, just like that,” you breathe, mouthing at his shoulder, your free hand clutching at his back. “Come inside me, daddy; pin me with your big body like you always do and come inside me. Love it, want it, need it.”

He moans into your throat, works his hips harder, faster, and you hold him when he comes, smoothing your palm over his skin. He looks down at you, and love shines in his eyes just like always; your heart melts a little. That’s something you’ll never get tired of seeing as long as you live.

He pulls out, replaces his cock with his fingers and brings you to orgasm again, still looking into your eyes, and he catches your last gasping moan with his lips.

You’re both tired after that, not as young as you used to be, and you pull him on top of your body again, a warm, reassuring weight; underneath him is your favorite place to be, always has been, always will be.

“Trophy husband,” you coo in his ear, scraping fingers through his hair. He chuckles softly, brushes his thumb over your lips.

“Badass wife.”

“Mm hmm, and don’t you forget it.” After a couple minutes, your stomach rumbles, and Aaron climbs off of you, returns with the whole pan of paella, two spoons, and a bottle of white wine. “No glasses?” you ask, teasing, sitting up against the pillows, and he shakes his head, wrinkles his nose.

“Nah, I like it better this way. My lips where your lips have been.” He leans in for a soft, slow, sultry kiss, and you sigh when it’s over, lean your head against his shoulder, and smile.

❤️ Taglist: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix

[ceruleanchillin]

5 Day Stay

| Or, Angel down bad for a week |

Angel x F!Reader

Warnings: language, infidelity, Angst (?), lil bit chili spice at the end

Mon:

Angel felt he was too young to consistently feel so bone-tired, yet that’s how his day had been ending for weeks now. Sometimes it was all he could do to get off his bike and make it to the door, only to have to rest his head against it to prepare to make it to the couch and collapse.

Tonight was one of those nights, and he wanted to be dead to the world until it dragged him back into it.

It was the smell of mixed spices that hit him first. It felt like he was in suspended animation, and slowly being released as different things started to register to him.

His TV was on, someone was rummaging through his kitchen, and music played faintly from his desk. Thinking back to the last time an unwanted guest was in his kitchen, he placed a hand on the holstered knife fastened to his back.

The fridge door closed, and you appeared in the window, eyes focused intently on whatever you were cooking on the stove.

He exhaled, feeling like complete shit. It only spoke to how weary his mind was that he could forget you were staying with him for the next week. Especially after the conversation that led to it.

“I don’t know Angel…really I can afford a motel for a few days.”

“Here? Rusted-through pipes will be the last thing your landlord is worried about when you bring back bedbugs and shit.”

Your eyes had widened at that, but still you brought up the thing that had been chained to your hesitation. “I mean….do you think it’s ok to do this? After we…Nails..Ang-“

He remembered a flash of irritation, more so at himself than you, when you said that. “Yes querida, fuck. If you’re so scared, I most likely won’t even be there the way things are going. Nails is out of town til’ next weekend…”

“Relax Ignacio.” you had cut your eyes at him, and he’d felt his dick jump like it did whenever you gave him attitude. “I’m just not trying to be a problem.”

Your voice calling his name brought him to the present. He caught the last part of your statement, that you didn’t know he’d be back.

“Yeah, we got in earlier than expected.”

“While you’re standing there like a weirdo, let me shame you real quick. How does a man in his thirties still have the kitchen of a frat boy?” You leaned on the sill of the divider. “You’re lucky I already knew you were sad in the kitchen. I had to bring my own tagine.”

He stepped into the kitchen, his stomach coming alive with interest. “One, I don’t know what that is, two, I can’t help it if the kitchen isn’t my preferred room of work.”

He peeked over your shoulder, but the unique pot kept him from seeing what you were making.

“Neither is the bedroom, unless that work is piling up dirty laundry.” you stuck your tongue out at him and turned back to your simmering dish.

“Ha ha. Dinner and a show, she does it all folks!” he collapsed at the table, the day catching back up with him. “Should put your ass on the club’s payroll. End the cashflow problem real quick.”

You turned to him, concern etched on your face. “I heard from Hank about that…sorry. I know now isn’t a great time for that at all.”

Things got awkward like they always did when you referenced the recent changes of his life. He wasn’t sad about getting another chance at fatherhood, this one more tangible than the last. However, he wasn’t entirely sold on everything he’d accepted along with it, and he was pretty sure you at least suspected that. It threw the previously comfortable confusion that was your relationship off track when it was touched on.

“No, it’s not.” was all he could manage.

It was quiet for a beat, the simmering of the food and quiet Neo Soul the only sounds.

“Well,” you started, turning off the burner. “At least you don’t have to eat like a ‘we got food at the house’ meme for once.”

He laughed, a genuine and needed laugh. “Ok, you know what? Keep talking about my pantry stocking skills, and I might take it personally.”

The rest of his night went that way. Anytime you and Angel got together, things were just…easy…better. You spent the evening eating in front of the TV (Angel getting all the way to thirds for what turned out to be olive chicken and roasted potatoes), trading jokes, and going over the finer points of Golden Girls. Angel learned you took it very seriously, and mocked you for being “old”.

It wasn’t until you were nodding off, and he was left with his own thoughts, that he realized he hadn’t enjoyed coming home this much since he moved in.

Tues:

Angel had dreamed he’d been back in his childhood home, but as a grown man. There was music coming from his parent’s room, and when he got to the doorway, his mom was at her dressing table. She hummed along to the soulful seventies music and smiled at him from the mirror. She said something, but he couldn’t make it out, and woke up in the frustration.

He jerked up from his position on his stomach, and slowly came to. With a grunt he wiped his hand down his face, glancing at his phone to find it was six in the afternoon.

It then occurred to him the music wasn’t just in his dream, it was coming from his bathroom. He got off the couch and followed the sound.

“Hey coma head.” you grinned at him from where you were doing your makeup.

He shook his head, trying to let go of the last vestiges of the dream, and how eerie the scene before him was.

He focused instead on the nightmare of products and alien looking tools surrounding you.

He kind of liked the mess, even if he couldn’t see the counter anymore.

“Hey hurricane Ulta.”

You made a face that was a cross between being amused and suspicious. “You sleep in your jeans and buy your shirts in pack form. Don’t act like you know what that is.”

He made a face of mock offense. “That’s so classist.”

This time you paused completely in you what you were doing and twisted your body to meet him. “Uh oh…let me find out you’re actually learning something from EZ.”

“Angel Reyes can know something about something, damn.”

You laughed, lowering your hands from where you’d been lining your eyes to avoid a mistake. “I’m only teasing you Angel Reyes.”

“Looks like you plan on teasing more than me. Some clown is gonna get his hopes and tiny dick up for nothing.”

“There’s this new club in the city that Belinda’s getting us into. It’s bad luck to buy your own drinks on the first night at a new place.” you adjusted the bodycon mini-dress for emphasis. “You doing anything?”

“Club shit.” he started picking through the products, sniffing them every so often. “Then I think I’ve got a call with Nails at some point.”

“You think?” you popped his hands when he got too close to the good stuff, or the things you were using currently.

“Yeah..I think.” he shrugged, only realizing how short he sounded when you winced.

He didn’t know why he got so annoyed when she was brought up around you. He wasn’t like that with anyone else, and he knew you were only trying to support his incoming changes.

“Ok..”

Awkward silence settled in before he found the words to break it.

“Why do you wanna know? You want me to be that clown?”

“Never.” you pinched his cheek, tone pure saccharine jest.

He muttered in Spanish, stepping around you to the toilet.

“Angel!” you exclaimed.

“What?! It’s my bathroom, I have to piss.”

“You better never make me angry Reyes, I could end your whole Casanova game with ease."

Wed:

“You holding on a little tight there mami!” Angel called over his shoulder with a laugh. “You said go fast."

“Shut up!” you giggled, but he wasn’t lying.

You’d asked Angel to take you to work on his bike since even though you spent so much time with bikers, you hardly got to ride one. You were going to the same place anyways. He had been all too happy to shake up his commute, but your speed challenge took it over the top.

He didn’t know how you were up so early, he personally felt like the bags under his eyes were like a PEZ dispenser. You’d gotten in at two am, and still got up with him at eight.

He loved watching you in the morning, you managed to be cheerful without being obnoxious, and it worked better than coffee for him.

He loved how much he was learning about you.

As he pulled onto the street beside the cafe you’d asked him to stop at, he felt your arms uncoil from around him. He may have pretended to shift just to make you pause and hold him a few seconds longer, but he wasn’t going to acknowledge that.

“I didn’t scream, and I’m not shaking, so you still have to buy my breakfast.” You unclipped your helmet, grinning the whole time.

You looked so pretty to him, with the sun hitting your eyes and hair just right. He could catch you at just the right moment, and you’d look so gorgeous, he struggled to believe you were real.

He cleared his throat, afraid his voice would crack if he didn’t. “Fair enough, come break my pockets then.”

You laughed, squeezing his chin and pointing out his pout. “You don’t even have to tell me once sir, I know my worth.”

Once inside, he trailed after you to the counter, using your head like an arm rest when you reached it. “That’s good.”

“Boy!” You swatted his hand away, and it was his turn to laugh at your adorable pout.

“New bet,” he stepped around you while the customer ahead of you wrapped up. “If I get your entire order just right, you buy lunch.”

“Deal.” you leaned on the counter, eyebrow raised at him in challenge.

Angel knew the best part of his day would be watching your expression go from smug to shocked out of the corner of his eye. He nailed every pastry, the iced coffee, and their preparation with ease.

The simultaneously impressed and amused barista looked to you for confirmation. She got a shocked nod in response.

“I know my worth too mama, so don’t skimp on lunch.”

“Fair enough.” You shook off your shock as you repeated his earlier words and shrugged. “Can’t complain I guess. I trained my work husband too well.”

He scoffed loudly, and the two of you went back to swapping smart ass barbs while he tried to ignore the lingering dip his stomach did when referred to him as “husband”.

Thurs:

Angel was a grown man, with years of grown man experience, yet he was sitting on the edge of his bed feeling like a teenager again.

The end of your stay was nearing, and every time he thought about you going back home, he felt weird. He was pretty sure that’s why he’d been a little snappy and annoyed easily at the club the past couple days. He just wasn’t ready to delve into that too much.

Regardless, he had to admit you had some growing effect over him. All morning, while he should’ve been resting and preparing for a charter visit, he was fighting off hard-ons thanks to you.

“Can I borrow your kitchen for the day Angel?” He mimicked your voice in a nasally mocking tone. “I’ll save you some when I’m done baking.”

He’d thought nothing of it when you asked the night before. Really didn’t even feel like you had to at that point.

He realized why when he saw that the desserts you were making for your friend’s brunch were elaborate as hell. The effort took all your attention, and unfortunately for him, his too.

You were baking a lot more than dessert and didn’t even know it.

Now he was hiding in his room, fighting off arousal he knew wasn’t appropriate. You weren’t his and he wasn’t yours.

That didn’t change the fact that you in a short silk lounge set, singing in French (how the hell did you know French?), doing domestic things in his home, did it for him.

He ran a hand over his hair, still damp from his cold shower, and forced himself to finish getting dressed. He had to be ready to face a room of dangerous bikers and prove his patched in worth. He couldn’t be thinking of weird little fantasies and parallels to his parent’s marriage.

He must’ve zoned out again, because you startled him enough to almost make him hit his wardrobe.

“Oh my god Angel try this! I think I did magic.” You excitedly thrust a red cookie his way.

Angel took the offered treat, and found it was a red velvet cookie. “It’s fucking good mi dulce.”

“Really?” You looked so hopeful, so beautiful, that he would’ve lied if the situation called for it.

“Yes, but you know you kill it in the kitchen.” He turned away to put on the flannel he’d fished out.

Now you were in his personal space, smelling amazing, and all his senses were under attack. He couldn’t trust Angel jr. at the moment.

“Baking is different. It’s a whole thing for me...I go all in.”

“I noticed your little Broadway production in my kitchen.” He kneeled down, pretending to look for his shoes as something to do while you were there.

“Don’t shame me.” You pressed your foot into his back, gently pushing him. “It makes for better results.”

‘shit.’ He cursed mentally at the contact.

Luckily, he heard you turn to leave the room. “Oh, EZ said to tell you to hurry up or pick up your phone.”

He rose up once you were gone and checked his phone. Sure enough, he had several missed calls and texts from Gilly, Coco, and EZ. He cursed aloud this time and finished getting ready, determined not to get distracted again.

Of course, his boys having to physically come in and get him when he did just that destroyed that promise.

Fri:

It had come down to the last night of your stay with him, and what he thought was a favor to a good friend, turned out to be more for his benefit.

The hell with the club seemed so far away when he was home now, and he’d laughed more times that week than he had the previous few months total.

Tonight though… Tonight had him so in his head he didn’t know if he was coming or going.

You, sensing something was going on with him, had invited EZ and Felipe to dinner. He didn’t know how you got the latter to agree, his dad had never even been in his home before, but you did it. It went over a hell of a lot better than the last time they tried it too.

The missteps that reared their head when his family tried to talk to each other at length were mitigated by you. You were the perfect buffer, able to get them to engage with you and then each other.

He saw his family in an unfamiliar, but favorable light. His father was actually enjoying his time with him in his house. He knew that night wouldn’t have happened if not for you.

Now, as he distractedly dried the dishes you’d washed, listening to you hit all of the high notes in Loving You, it hit him.

‘She should be my wife’ the thought came so quick, and was so loud he almost jumped, confused if it came from him or someone else.

“Hey dishwasher-less!” you nudged him with your hip. “Move those hands.”

“Why can’t we be a thing?” he blurted.

You dropped the silverware you’d been washing, eyes wide and focused on him. “Um..excuse m-…what?”

He knew that wasn’t the most tactful way to introduce his thoughts to you, but it was his way. Fuck…he didn’t even understand them fully himself.

“You heard me querida,” he put the dish down on the counter, turning to you. “When I stayed with you that weekend that my head was all fucked up-“

“Angel.” your tone made it a warning, but he kept going. He was never afraid of a challenge.

“I was inside you so much that weekend I forgot that’s not how I came in this world. I can’t believe I’m saying it out loud, but I felt home cause I was with you-”

“Stop it!” you hit the sink, rattling the contents.

“Fuck that!” he shouted back, startling you both. He stayed silent for a moment before speaking in a calmer tone. “Fuck that. Why can’t we talk about it? Why couldn’t we talk about it then?”

You didn’t say anything, but he saw your chest heaving with adrenaline, and realized you were just as affected by the conversation as he was.

“You just decided it didn’t matter and put it in this space we can’t touch now. It’s all fucked up!”

“Because,” you hissed. “If you remember, it was all over that Adelita chick, and I don’t know what kind of hold she has or had over you, but it was deep.”

He cringed at that, and turned his attention to the light fixture over your head, unable to meet your heated gaze.

“Whatever feelings I have for you Angel, I put them away in a place where I can still be your friend and keep things in perspective.”

“Feelings you have for me?” he latched on to the lack of past tense, hopeful.

You inhaled sharply. “You are having a baby and just got engaged. What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing..I mean a lot, but nothing to do with this. I know-“

“I know,” you pushed away from the sink and reached up to cup his cheeks. “That you’re scared Angel. You’re scared, because you’re gonna take two steps you’ve never taken before at once, and you’re trying to sabotage it.”

He shook his head, taking your hands from his face and holding them tightly in his own. “No..mi dulce, no. I’ve been struggling with this all week, longer if I’m being honest. Tonight sealed it.”

You snorted humorlessly, looking around the kitchen as if something in the room would help you get through to him. “I cook you some big boy meals, and treat your speakers to some musical taste, and you’re ready for vows?”

“Don’t put this all on me. Tell me you don’t feel it. Right here and now, to my face.”

He watched your expression soften, and let you put one hand back on his face, your thumb gently stroking his cheek. “Ok, I can’t do that, but I also can’t just fall into a situation with you either.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “We both know we didn’t just fall into anything. We sat here and let it build and didn’t say shit, and now I have to. This week just made it too real not to.”

He placed his forehead to yours, his own hands cupping your face. “Please…”

He watched you have an internal battle by your changing features before you finally leaned into him. The moment you did, his lips were on yours.

He knew it was more than just a kiss a few seconds in. Everything he’d felt that the previous week was alive and confirmed between you too. He could feel you telling him you had moments like his own.

He palmed your thighs under your sundress before grasping them tightly and lifting you up. He placed you on the counter while you two separated for air. Your chests heaved in unison, and neither of you had to say you wanted the other touching you again before it happened.

He gripped your hair, tilting your head back for access to your neck. The smell of vanilla and cocoa butter surrounded him as he worked his mark all over your skin.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you pressed yourself against his jeans.

He hated he couldn’t feel the heat he knew was emitting from your core through the thick material of his jeans, and slid his other hand up your thigh to your panties.

Your entire body twitched when he ran his fingers over you through the thin cloth. It wasn’t just hot it was soaked.

“You need me that bad mami?” he pulled away from your neck, satisfied with his work, and beginning to work at his jeans.

“And quick.” you breathed into his ear, your tone and the sensation making him shudder.

The ache against his jeans didn’t need to be told twice to find its way into your heat. He slid your panties to side and pressed his thumb against you. You jumped, whimpering your need again, and he pulled your panties way from you.

You’d gotten them around one ankle before he was inside of you, and they were no longer your focus.

You clung to each other so tightly there’d be evidence on both of you.

In the quiet, he wondered if your mind was racing with the same thoughts that his was. What now? How do we get this again?

He pressed kisses to your cheek just as he started to move. You inhaled, your nails sliding down his back. Not quite catching the skin, but enough to set him on fire all the same.

He mapped out a rhythm by your whimpers and how you grasped at him until he crafted the right one.

This was the conversation he’d needed. Every thrust from him, every cry from you, every bit of give and take to heighten the other’s pleasure. The two of you were admitting that everything that was between you was deeper, realer than you’d wanted to admit. He loved you, and you loved him, and you were engraving that on one another.

The flirtation, the way you could be yourselves around each other, the heatless jabs. Good friends was always a ruse.

Your face was buried in his neck, and when he felt dampness he knew came from your tears, he hiked your legs higher, moving deeper.

You cried out so loudly it echoed in the kitchen, drowning out the soft crooning of an eighties songstress.

“I know baby, I feel it too.” his voice was choked by the threat of tears of his own.

He’d never been here before. Not with Adelita, not even close with Nails. He was terrified. Terrified for it to end because he never felt so good. Terrified for it to end because it might never happen again.

“Angel..” your voice sounded so small, but it was strong enough to anchor him back with you. “I’m close, I’m so close.”

“Let go,” he encouraged. “Let me have it querida.”

Your body seized up with your release, his name the only thing he caught in your unintelligible babble.

You clenched up repeatedly in the aftershocks, and that drug him over the edge with you, biting your shoulder.

His vision tunneled, pinpricks of pleasure traveling up and down his spine. Your hands smoothed up and down the area, and he realized it was because he was shuddering.

He gripped the counter for support, pulling back slowly. He was searching for a way to ask if he’d changed your mind, but the act hadn’t made words for his thoughts any easier to find.

It didn’t matter, before he could even speak you stopped him. Your eyes were glazed over with tears that had nothing to do with pleasure this time.

“That was all that I can give you Angel. It’s not right, none of this is, but it’s all I can give you.”

AN:

Am I the only one who wishes she had reference photos for their home/club layouts? Lol, it’s such a weird non-factor thing, but still. From memory, I’m pretty sure Angel only has one bedroom though.

No shade, no hate but this was partially inspired by how over Nails Angel looked when she was putting her back into it….🥴

I played with a few canon-timeline things + knocked the dust off my smut writing ability (I’m going under my humiliation rock now, no calls plz)

[machinegunkissu]

Can you write little ff for the morning routine of s/o and Majima Goro please 🥺♥️

|| wholesome content  insert pleading face emoji / also i know nothing about coffee cause i do not like it so hopefully what the interent told me about pour is right ;;;;

pairing : majima goro x reader

  As the sunlight peaked in through the curtains, _____ climbed out of bed. They let a ghost of a yawn out, pulling the curtains to the side. “Goro,” they called out in a raspy, raw voice. The only response was a deep, irritated grunt. “Goro,” they called again. “You gotta get up.”

  There was a series of grunts and sighs that followed as ______ turned around, ripping the tatami covers back. The man before them curled in on himself and growled.

  “Upsie daisy, Goro. I’ll get brewing some coffee.”

  With that they were off to the kitchen unit and set out the kettle from the cupboard. They let out another soft yawn as they turned to the faucet, filling the kettle up with water. ______ began to space out a bit, still letting the thought of sleep tempt them as their eyes grew heavy. The only thing that brought them back each morning was the heavy weight of the kettle filling up. They had to be certain to not let it overflow. There had been a few mornings where this occurred and Goro, their husband, had come over to shut the faucet off, chuckling huskily. He’d mumble something about them needing to head back to bed or just ruffle their hair, smiling reassuringly as he removes it from their hands.

  With the kettle filled, ______ quickly shut off the water, moving it to the stove. They put the lid back on and set the burner on medium heat before heading off to the bathroom.

  Splashing some water on their face, they grabbed a towel and face soap, getting to work on their bathroom routine. It was pretty simple over all but kept them clean and happy. Halfway through brushing their teeth, Goro came trudging in behind them. He slumped over, hugging their shoulders as he yawned. He lazily pointed to his left eye.

  “One second.”

  ______ spit out the toothpaste in their mouth, washing out their mouth with a quick rinse and dried their hands with the towel on the sink’s side. They reached out for the black eye patch that sat near the towel and turned around, smiling up to their husband. He bent down a bit so ______ could tie it on. This was every morning. He had all capability to do it himself but he just found comfort and a lil spark of joy in having ______ do it for him every morning. They never tied it too loose or too tight. Somehow, they always got it perfectly positioned and tied.

  “Thanks,” he said sheepishly. He was met with a few light pats to his cheeks as he opened his mouth to yawn then. “Gah! _-_____!”

  “Hurry up, old man! The coffee will be ready before you are at this rate.”

  “Heeeeey,” Goro chuckled halfheartedly, watching as his spouse left the bathroom, off to make eggs most likely. It wasn’t the most traditional breakfast by the terms of Japan, but a few sunnyside up eggs and toast slices were more than enough for the couple. They were pretty busy people and a quick breakfast was more than efficient. Besides, neither of them minded. They enjoyed the routine of it all and found comfort and having each morning be almost identical. Their lives were far from standard and normal, primarily attributing to the yakuza affiliation. So having a bit of structure here and there was nice and grounding for the pair.

  And indeed, by the time Goro made it out to the table, both eggs and toast were plated and ready. The coffee, however, was still brewing. As he finished slipping on his gloves, he came behind his partner, wrapping his arms about their middle, grinning. “I beat the coffee pot again,” he chuckled.

  “So it would seem. But, ” they trailed off, allowing for the pot to hiss, letting them know it was ready. “just barely.”

  “Hey now. Just barely still counts,” Goro joked, releasing his spouse. He grabbed the pot, placing it on the cooled burner that had not been turned on, turning off the hot one. His spouse handed him the paper filters and grounds resting over two pairs of cups. Placing a kiss in thanks to their temple, he prepared the coffee for them both. He didn't do a lot of the work in the morning, but this was the least he could contribute.

  It was the simplest routine but it made them happy. It was what kept the pair sane in this crazy life they led. And that was enough.

[minsyal]

Headcanons for the boys s/o appearing to be a delicate lil flower but actually being filled with knives

Request: How would the boys feel about an s/o who’s some royal’s personal servant and looks delicate, but can actually take on monster camps with ease?

Revali

Revali will completely lowkey expect it

It happened as you were assisting the Princess as she made royal arrangements with the elder in the village. You trailed behind her, hands folded politely over your abdomen, staring blankly forward at the back of Link’s shoes. Honestly, you were excited. Until recently, your relationship with the Rito Champion had been kept a secret. One slip up and Zelda had caught you two sneaking around the grounds. 

The elder was politely speaking in hushed tones to the princess as Link stood to the rear of the room beside you. Revali had positioned himself near the princess but was paying them no mind. He was focused on you. His entertainment was not coming from the conversation, but instead the pink tinge that slowly crept its way to your cheeks. 

“You’re different around the Princess, you know?” Revali would comment once the Princess had retired for the night and was safely guarded in the Inn. 

It wasn’t rare for you to meet with him after dark. After all, that’s how the two of you met. 

Revali particularly took enjoyment in the different side of you he saw when you partook in your nightly “workout.” At first it worried him, he didn’t quite believe that you could handle the camp yourself. Once he realized your abilities, he was absolutely starstruck. It was love at first sight (but he wouldn’t admit that.) 

“I knew you were far more than you seem.” He’d comment as you strolled back to the village. 

“No you didn’t.” You scoffed, throwing your knife back into its holster before strapping it back in place. “You thought I was ‘delicate.” 

“Hmm.” He pondered for a moment. “No, I knew.” 

“Whatever, bird boy.” Your servants dress easily slipped over your head as the smooth fabric cascaded from your shoulders to your hips. 

Revali smirked, he was most certainly sure that he knew all along. 

Sidon

Sidon could absolutely not believe it

It was absolutely baffling when Sidon found out his father had hired a Hylian to act as a Zora royal servant. He initially found you to be so incredibly adorable. He loved the way you followed him around always ensuring he had what he needed and retrieving things when he asked.

What he didn’t expect was your ability to completely eradicate a camp of monsters that had decided the Zora River was a great place to set up shop. 

The two of you were making rounds on one of the nicer days. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the rushing water was providing a calming ambiance to your stroll. You liked Sidon, more so than many at the Domain believed. Surely there were people who saw through your ruse. Questioning eyes and harsh glares became a normal thing from the “Sidon Fan Club” that stood 20 feet away from him at all times, giggling insanely when he’d so much as glance in their direction. 

The two of you interlaced your fingers as he trudged forward. 

A horn sounded, interrupting your tranquil moment. Three lizalfos stood upon newly-constructed scaffolding near an old abandoned camp. The electricity emanating from their arrows was apparent and the quiver in Sidon’s touch didn’t go unnoticed. 

Without question, you sprung into action. Within minutes, the camp had been destroyed. Sidon stood there, wielding his rapier. 

“Oh.” The small word escaped his lips as he slashed it twice and put it away. “That was... unexpected.” 

“In a good way?” You wiped your hand down your face. 

“In a very good way!” A squeak escaped your lips as you were hoisted into the air. Sidon’s hands were placed firmly upon your hips as he swung you around. “That was astounding! Truly phenomenal!” 

“But dear, please never do that again.” 

Link

Link is like “wow that made me really nervous but I’m so happy to have this information now!”

Traveling outside of Hateno was practically unheard of for those who had lived there forever. Travelers often brought what the village needed and what they didn’t bring was grown. So for you, a Hateno native, to be coming and going from the village was truly a feat to behold. People were cautious here, they didn’t step out of any lines and always stuck to the path. It was rather boring after a whole lifetime. 

When Link arrived in the village he completely stirred everything up. The shop was seeing great profits, Bolson and Co was making bank, and the village children were telling tales that the mysterious knight brought along with him. That’s one of the things that drew you to him. 

He had partially expected it. He knew you weren’t one to stay at home selling the latest harvest of rice or wheat. You wanted to see Hyrule for everything it had to offer. You wanted to meet the Gerudo women, the Zoras, the Rito, and Gorons. Link was your ticket out, and you gladly took it. 

The first time you came across a monster camp with Link, he had instinctively crouched behind a boulder and pulled you down with him. A single finger pressed up against his lips as he motioned for you to stay quiet. Another pointed at your current position, telling you to stay put. You, though, had different plans. 

With a smirk on your face, you nodded innocently. As Link crept away, sword drawn, you did also. As he neared the first scaffolding where a particularly ugly bokoblin stood guard, you sprung into action. Within minutes, the entire camp was deserted; there wasn’t a single evil soul left in sight. 

You smiled at Link who had remained where he was, dumbfounded. 

After that, Link never asked you to stay back. After all, even if he did, he knew you wouldn’t listen. 

Teba 

Omg he has a wife wtf ya’ll

Hitting on a married man? 

You should be ashamed of yourselves. 

Kass

He’s also a married man

You want to split up his marriage? 

Shameful! 

Daruk

He’s honestly so proud and also so worried 

Because you’re so small compared to him! and he could have easily done it himself! But he’s so proud that you’re super strong and independent! 

Death Mountain was particularly hot today. The lava wasn’t quite spilling over, but it sure felt like it was. There was an odd feeling in the air. It had grown considerably thicker overnight as if something amiss was brewing. 

Daruk was up to his usual business. He had messed around the city all morning and was now rolling around the mountain searching for any straggling monsters left over from yesterday’s attack. You had perched yourself atop a peak, vaguely able to make out the smoke cloud as he disrupted the dirt below. You were, as he said, “My eyes in the skies.” He had insisted you had more in common with the Rito, who could swiftly fly to the highest points in Hyrule, than the Gorons who spent all of their time on the ground. 

Your eyes trailed him as he traveled to the east, but there was a clear disturbance to the west. A large dust cloud was collecting near one of the hot springs, the sight of nearly fifteen monsters as they marched toward the city was apparent. 

Without a second of doubt, you drew your glider and headed off. The land turned to open air as you drifted downward toward the crowd of foes. They stood no chance! There was no way Daruk would make it to the crowd in time, so alerting him would have to be put on the back burner. 

The bokoblins stood absolutely no chance to your archery skills. Several arrows later, the entire gang was gone - diminished to ash. 

Another puff of dust had you spinning on your toes only to come face to face with a worried and wide-eyed Daruk. 

“What’re ya doing?” He said slowly, eyes darting from the beasts to you. “I saw ya flying down here and... well... figured ya we’r in trouble.” An, uncharacteristic, small laugh escaped his lips as he knelt down. “But I guess ya handled it yerself’ pretty well! I didn’t know you were so handy with a bow!” 

“Ta’ think! You’ve got a lot of strength in that tiny body of yours!”

[jayyisntcool]

The Middle (Darkiplier x Reader x Antisepticeye)

Summary: Y/N runs into her favourite pair of demons.

Warnings: smoking, NSFW, Threesome

Song: In the Middle by Dodie

Pairing: Dark x Y/N, Anti x Y/N, Danti

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

"What are you doing Friday?" You questioned, looking up at demon beside you. The man smiled, twirling his knife as he jumped up on your kitchen counter, sitting back as he laughed.

"Probably killing someone, if I'm bein' honest with ya'" Anti replied, watching you as you made the two of you something to eat for dinner. After you and Dark had broken up, the two of you had gotten close. Anti was the one that helped you move your stuff out, and he kept Dark from bothering you. In return you let him stay with you when he needed and occasionally replaced the Wii remote when he got too heated in a Mario Kart race.

You rolled your eyes, "Look I'm being serious! If you want me to set you up, I have to know a day." As you talked a slight pain rang through your chest. You still weren't over Dark. Not completely anyway. And with your growing closeness to Anti you couldn't help but catch feelings. His craziness was charming, in a way. It hurt like hell to see the two people you want more than anything to love you back, go for each other instead. If it makes them happy, I'm happy. You thought to yourself, grabbing your phone off the counter.

"Look, Fridays fine, just make sure I can get in my morning cigarette." He said with sarcasm in his tone, pulling out a pack of Camels and pulling one out, lighting one and deeply inhaling.

You swallowed hard, clicking on the contact that you had debated on deleting a million times over. You brought the phone up to your ear, the phone only ringing two times before it was picked up.

"Y/N? This is a surprising phone call." Dark spoke, his voice deeper over the phone than you remembered it.

You bit your lip, taking a deep breath, "Look I'm not in the mood for chit chat. I just wanted to know if you'd come over Friday, Anti wants to see you. Wear something nice." You barely gave Dark enough time to agree before hanging up the phone, looking at Anti.

"Now that was interestin'. Still not on speaking terms?"

"No, it's not that-"

"You still like the fucker don't ya?" Anti spoke, laughing as he flicked his cigarette. "Now that's a fuckin' plot twist." You gulped, knowing that Anti would sense you trying to lie. "Settin' your best friend up with your not so passed lover. Actor would orgasm for a story line like this." The demon spoke, still laughing as he took another drag off his cigarette.

"Anti, stop, and give me a fucking cancer stick." The demon laughed, throwing a cigarette and lighter at you. You rarely smoked, it was more so social than anything. At least if you were doing it with Anti you'd get to spend time with him. You lit it and took a drag, your hand shaking.

Anti stopped suddenly, looking at you with a smirk. His eyes trailed you up and down before he jumped off the counter and approached you, blowing smoke in your face. "Ya know, Demons are kinky little fuckers. Ya' know that better than anyone, don't ya, Dollface?" He questioned, not waiting for a response before continuing, "I heard all about you and Darks little playdates." You blushed, hard. Dark was always one to please you, and he loved showing you off to some of his closer egos. The man snickered, "Maybe we could have something like that, just a lil more control, ya' think?" You took a drag of the cigarette, not knowing how, or even if to respond.

You didn't have to contemplate much longer as your hand was quickly pinned down, the cigarette falling out of your hand and Anti putting it out with his foot. Before you could speak, the demons lips were on yours, hungry and feral. You kissed back, your free hand snaking around his neck to deepen the kiss. His abnormally sharp teeth grazed you lip, biting and drawing blood. You moaned, you could practically feel Antis smirk as he pulled away, licking his lips and chuckling.

"I'm takin' that as ya' love my idea and you definitely want ta go through with it." He spoke matter of factly, grabbing your food off the stove and moving it to a different burner and turning off the stove. You smiled, rolling your eyes.

"I wouldn't phrase it like that, but sure."

[zigtheeortega]

day 24: loss | liam x mc (au)

title: disruption

pairing: liam x mc

@choicesfebruarychallenge | @bi-cookie ; @cxld-play

warnings: angst, smut, n*sfw, (18+)

word count: 5,764

song inspiration: if i ever feel better - phoenix

author’s note: first off, i’m not good at naming characters like at all, so elliott is just a placeholder bc i knew mc would look weird. second, i haven’t written an au choices fic yet, so i’m a lil nervous to post this! I’ve also never written liam before, much less smut for him, so i’m also nervous bc of that! this will probably be my only trr fic bc there are sooo many trr fics out there. lmao anyways, hope you enjoy this angsty smutty sad fic !

“We’re almost there, Elliott,” Bastien called to the backseat, startling her out of her sleep.

She rubbed her eyes and stretched, slipping her coat she’d been using as a blanket over her shoulders, zipping it up to her chin.

Lythikos had an intense frigidity to it, one that Elliott couldn’t forget. She only visited monthly for short periods of time, but the stinging sensation of the snow on her bare face never left her memory.

She checked her phone, her heart fluttering at the pseudonym that appeared on her phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey. I’m finishing up my last obligation, but I shouldn’t be longer than an hour.” His voice warmed her heart. It was the first time in weeks she’d heard it over the phone, not on television in a rehearsed speech. 

“Okay. I brought some of my work with me if that’s alright with you. I’d love your feedback,” Elliott smiled to herself, treasuring her lover’s genuine interest in her new profession.

“Of course,” she could hear him beam through the phone. “I love you.”

“I love you too. See you soon.”

He hung up, and she sighed. Sneaking around was getting so tiresome, but she’d do anything and everything for Liam.

After Elliott and her friends couldn’t locate Tariq, the wedding went on as scheduled. It took her months of hiding out in Cordonia with her best friends to get herself together. Hana stayed by her side consistently, consoling her until she figured out a game plan.

She thought she’d be able to find a solution and live out her fairytale, but she was too late. She’d never be able to fully have Liam like she wanted, but Madeleine offered her a compromise to keep everyone happy.

She’d brought it up to Elliott before everything went to shit, and Elliott rejected it. She saw being a ‘mistress’ as an insult, because she knew she could find a way out of the mess she was in.

Months later, Madeleine, Liam, and Elliott ran a tight ship with friends to keep the affair under wraps.

Elliott could only meet with Liam once a month, under the guise that he had important monthly meetings to attend at Olivia’s home. They could only meet for a weekend at best, and a few hours at worst.

They rarely contacted each other between their meetings. It was depressing, but necessary to keep them a secret. Liam had a burner phone, and Elliott had to save his number under an undetectable moniker. When they spoke, it was short and sweet, and they couldn’t use each other’s real names.

She flew to Cordonia monthly, usually having to go to great lengths to disguise herself from the paparazzi.

It was emotionally draining and everything leading up to the rendezvous was stressful and tense, but all worth it when she saw Liam’s face light up when he first saw her.

Bastien pulled into the driveway behind the castle, easing up next to a side entrance that Elliott was all too familiar with – she knew Olivia would be waiting behind the large door.

She fixed her wig, pulling her beanie over the top of it, and hid her purple-rimmed eyes behind huge square sunglasses.

“Olivia informed me that you can go to the door. I’ll bring your bags in later. There aren’t any paparazzi in sight, so you’ll be safe,” he smiled at her through the rearview mirror, a sympathetic look in his eyes.

“Thank you so much, Bastien. I could never repay you for what you’re doing for Liam and I,” she replied gratefully, apology laced through the tone in her voice.

“Anything you need, I’m here. Don’t feel guilty. The only time he’s happy is when he sees you, and I’d never get in the way of that.”

Her heart swelled at the thought. She waved to him, stepping out into the blizzard.

The door cracked open, and Elliott spotted the fiery hair before her expression.

“Come in, come in,” Olivia frowned at her messy disguise. “That wig’s a mess, Elliott. If you’re gonna opt for a cheap, frizzy wig, at least hide a pocket knife in it.”

Elliott shrugged, grinning at Olivia’s annoyance. “Why should I do that when I have my best friend here to protect me?”

Olivia scowled, a hint of a smile on her lips. “You’re lucky I’m your ally.” She turned on her heel and stalked down the hallway, leaving Elliott scurrying to catch up.

Elliott had gotten pretty familiar with the underground tunnels of Lythikos over the past year. Olivia secretly renovated an unused area to make an apartment-like cluster of rooms, so that Elliott could stay safely in the tunnels with everything she needed, and she wouldn’t be bothered by anyone.

It was an ingenious idea, and Elliott had no idea how to pay her back for her generosity. Honestly, Olivia probably did it to avoid controversy, like most every noble was doing. Elliott wasn’t sure if Olivia was doing it for the sake of Cordonia’s image or the sake of her friends’ sanity.

Olivia pulled out a skeleton key and unlocked the door, turning on the lights. “I added a more comfortable bed, some more decorations, and got Bastien to fully stock the fridge, so you can cook pretty much anything you want.”

She walked over to the living room area and pointed at the T.V. “I didn’t have to get a 60 inch flatscreen for you, but I know how much you love binging horror movies that I had to help scare you somehow.” She smirked, and pulled out a few drawers from the T.V. stand. “I ordered a hundred or so movies in case you get bored. I have no idea how long you’re gonna be here.”

Elliott shifted her weight, sighing. It was too painful to stay longer than a couple of days. “I was gonna leave on Sunday like I usually do –”

“How asinine. You’re taking a 9 hour flight on a Thursday night to get here by morning, and you take another 9 hour flight back on Sunday morning? You’re wearing yourself thin for no reason, Elliott,” she shook her head at Elliott, confusion lining her expression.

“Liam usually can’t spend more than 2 days at a time with me.”

“You have other friends in Cordonia, you know that right?” She narrowed her eyes at her, crossing her arms.

“After all that happened, I can’t show my face here. My reputation is tarnished, and even being seen here is a scandal waiting to happen. It gets riskier and riskier every time. I can’t risk any of my friend’s well-being for the sake of my secret relationship,” Elliott plopped onto the couch, defeated.

Remorse flashed through Olivia’s eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. “None of this is your fault, Elliott. We know the truth.”

Elliott shook her head, a lump forming at the back of her throat. It didn’t matter that Justin and Adelaide were ousted as terrorists, and that Elliott’s friends were able to stop them from assassinating Liam and Madeleine. 

Tariq was never found, and King Constantine was killed before he could clear her name. No one would believe Bastien, and Penelope was too afraid to publicly admit her wrongdoing, so Elliott didn’t have enough evidence to be exonerated.

“Sometimes… I wish everything were different. Maybe if we’d split up and searched on our own… or if I tried a little harder…” She struggled, her throat burning, a sign of tears to come. She didn’t want to talk about this situation any more than she had to, which was every time she visited.

Her new life was pretty much an escape from the events of the past year, but she was forced to face her past trauma head on every time she stepped foot on Cordonian soil.

“Elliott…” Olivia trailed off, and reached towards her, but dropped her hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I guess I’m still seething over the whole ordeal. I’m pretty defensive since I know we’re right but no one else knows that.” She sat down, leaning back onto the couch, crossing her legs. “You shouldn’t feel like you’re risking our social standing or anything. All of us know exactly what we’re risking to help you and Liam, and we’re okay with it. You’re our…” She whispered the last word and Elliott couldn’t quite hear her.

“I’m your what?”

“...friend.” 

Elliott threw her arms around Olivia, relishing in the rare vulnerable moment. Olivia seldom showed her true feelings, but when she did, it was like watching a shooting star. It was beautiful, fleeting – a great memory nonetheless.

“Get off of me, you sap,” Olivia patted Elliott’s back with the tip of her fingers.

“Thank you for everything you’re doing. I seriously can’t thank you enough. If there’s ever anything I can do to repay you all, please tell me. I owe you a lifetime of favors.”

“Well, first, you can actually spend time with Hana, Drake, and Maxwell. They won’t shut up about you.” Olivia rolled her eyes.

“Deal. I never got to see Cordonia on my own time, so maybe you could give me a proper tour of Lythikos next time I’m here. You know, when I’m not banished to the cellar.” Elliott grinned.

Olivia laughed once, a delightful noise. “Sure, but you’ll need better snow gear. And take a self-defense class or two before you do so.”

Elliott quirked a brow at her friend, then shook her head. “I won’t even pretend to know what you have planned for me.”

Olivia stood up, and headed for the door. “You have no idea.” She opened it, and before leaving, she said, “Liam should be here soon. Let me know when he’s in the room so Bastien and I can keep watch.”

“Be careful, Liv.”

“Don’t call me that,” Olivia smirked, and closed the door.

----

Elliott spent the next hour working in her notebook, editing and rewriting paragraph after paragraph. An animated movie she’d seen a million times played in the background, prompting Elliott to hum along to her favorite song.

After another hour, she started to worry. She aimlessly flipped through the collection of DVD’s, not really paying attention to the titles.

Where’s Liam? She thought, an uneasy feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

After hour three, she read a little from a book she’d brought until her eyes started getting heavy.

She awoke to a sequence of 5 sharp raps on the door, followed by a pause, then 3 more.

Our secret knock, She thought. She shot up from the couch and ran to the door, happy tears already welling up on her bottom lids.

She fumbled with the lock, anticipation causing her to shakily rip open the door.

And there Liam stood, holding a bouquet of flowers, a bottle of champagne, and a neatly wrapped present. His perfectly tailored suit laid perfectly on his arms and torso, his muscles just barely concealed. He beamed, his eyes glistening as his eyes grazed over her face.

She grabbed him by the lapels, pulling him inside hastily. “Whoa,” he said, nearly losing balance.

Elliott blushed, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing his face close to hers. She pressed her lips softly on his, a picture perfect moment she snapshotted and tucked away in her favorite memories.

All of the anxiety she felt traveling in disguise melted away the moment she touched Liam.

“I missed you,” he murmured against her lips.

“I missed you more,” she breathed, snuggling into his neck.

After a sweet moment, she pulled back, and snatched the champagne from his hands. “What’re we celebrating, love?”

He grinned, and locked the door behind him. “It’s a momentous day, Elliott. It’s been a year to the day since we first met.”

Elliott looked at him lovingly, hugging the bottle to her chest. “A whole year?”

He nodded, setting the flowers and present on the table, and gathered Elliott in his arms, hugging her to his chest tightly. “A whole year. I know this situation isn’t ideal, but I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Elliott.”

He used a finger to tilt her chin to him, and he pressed a soft kiss on her bottom lip. “You’re everything to me.”

“I love you so much, Liam.” She giggled, shaking her head. “From waitress to mistress. Same suffix, different job title.”

His smile wavered, and he exhaled a long breath, obviously uncomfortable with the joke she’d told. “I wish you’d stop putting yourself down like that. Marriage is just a title. Madeleine and I are just business partners. You’re my soulmate, Elliott.”

She pulled back, fiddling with the top of the champagne. “I know. I just wish we didn’t have to be so secretive.”

He gently took the bottle from my hands and popped it open. “I’ve still got local historians and lawyers on my payroll, and they’ve been extensively researching Cordonian laws. I don’t know if they’ll find anything, but I’m determined to keep looking. I don’t want to lose hope.”

Elliott pressed her mouth into a line, then quirked it to the side, processing everything he’d said. “I want to be hopeful that we’ll get out of this eventually, but I’d rather just enjoy the time I have with you, baby. Stress free.”

He poured them two glasses of champagne, and handed one to her. “Of course. My apologies.”

They sat at the kitchen table, and Elliott picked up the flowers, taking a deep whiff of the bouquet. “You really outdid yourself this time, Liam.” 

The cluster of sunflowers, lavender, and white roses contrasted beautifully, and smelled even better. “They reminded me of you, so I had to pick them up.”

“Along with a gift?” She lifted a brow, challenging him.

He sipped his champagne, trying to hide a smile. “I think you’ll like it. Open it.”

She ripped off the wrapping paper to reveal a plain white box. She lifted the top off, revealing an assortment of toys on top of a lacy lingerie piece. Her cheeks heated, and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I love it,” Elliott said, nibbling at the skin on her lip.

Liam eyed her lips, a playful look in his eye. “I thought we could try something new this weekend.”

The blush on her cheeks stayed, despite her eagerness to get in bed. “I like the sound of that.”

She gulped down the rest of her champagne and snatched the lacy piece, running to the bedroom.

“Hey!” Liam called, about to stand from the table.

“I’m trying on the lingerie! Stay where you are! It’s a surprise!” She yelled through the closed door.

Elliott emerged after a few minutes, peeking her head out of the door. “You ready?”

“Beyond ready, my love.”

She stepped out, and Liam’s breath hitched in his throat. She could plainly see him shift his legs, desperately trying to conceal his bulge.

“You look… stunning. Absolutely gorgeous, Elliott,” he said, his mouth agape, eyes hungrily roaming across her body.

The strappy lace piece fit like a bikini. The bottom was closer to a g-string than a thong, and the crotch was cut out, making it for easier access. The lace was sheer, barely covering her nipples and folds. She should’ve felt sexy, but was more out of place than anything.

“This is so corny, Liam. You bought me something that you’re just going to strip off of me, and I look absolutely ridiculous in it,” She said, crossing her legs to cover the lack of cloth around her opening.

He stood from his chair and crossed the room to touch her. He laced his fingers through her hair and draped his other hand across the small of her back. He tilted her head back, kissing her neck and nipping gently at her exposed skin.

“You’re right. I want to rip this off of you, but I can’t even begin to describe to you how arousing this outfit is. You never have to wear something that you’re not comfortable in, but I assure you it’s a pleasurable experience on my end,” he breathed into her ear, tightening his grip around her waist.

“Oh fuck,” She whispered, his bulge rubbing against her, causing her to gasp in repsonse. “Please, let’s talk later, and fuck now. I need you now, Liam.”

“Say no more, beautiful.” He swept her up and brought her to the bedroom, slamming the door behind them with his foot.

He dropped her onto the bed, and shimmied off his coat jacket, hanging it on the back of the wall.

“You’re so adorable, Liam. In the midst of a heated moment, you still have the mind to hang your coat up carefully so that it doesn’t crease before fucking my brains out,” she giggled.

Liam scrunched his nose up in confusion. “I can be reckless.” He threw his coat on the ground, but after a few seconds of eye contact with Elliott, where she could tell how absolutely tormented he was, he snatched it by the lapels.

Elliott howled with laughter as Liam hung it up carefully, brushing off the dirt.

“You always manage to be right, Elliott,” he softly smiled, unbuttoning his top buttons slowly. “But I don’t mind.” His arms flexed as he rolled his sleeves up. “As long as you don’t mind that I’m a little reckless in private, that’s all that matters.”

Her heart raced as he left the room and returned with the box of toys. Although she’d committed Liam’s body and their sexual encounters to memory, she still found herself enthralled with him like it was the first time they met.

He sat on the bed next to Elliott’s lace-clad body, and tucked a hair behind her ear. “Are you okay with me trying some of the toys out on you? I want to make sure you’re completely comfortable with it before trying anything.”

She smiled, nodding. “Yes.”

He pulled a small handheld vibrator out of the box, just small enough to fit on a finger. “First things first, I want to taste you.”

Her lower stomach clenched and ached as he grabbed her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed, parting her legs. Before she could throw out a sexy quip, he had taken advantage of the crotchless design by plunging his tongue into her folds, stroking relentlessly.

She moaned and dug her hands into his hair, tugging at his dark strands. He in turn rumbled against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body.

“Liam, please,” she breathed, feeling his hand on her stomach, holding her bucking hips in place.

He knew exactly what she wanted; he always read her cues perfectly. He slid a finger into her, curling it the way Elliott loved. He moved his hand and tongue in unison, the similar paces bringing her close to the edge.

Just as she was about to release, he pulled away, slipping the vibrator on his fingers. “Is it alright if I try this out on you now?”

She nodded, her body eager for his touch. He massaged her clit slowly with his fingers, keeping in time with the laggard pace of his other fingers pumping in and out of her.

The strong vibration mixed with the pressure of his fingers sent Elliot into another world. Her eyes rolled back, and she focused on the image of Liam’s naked physique, his head between her legs… 

Before she knew it, her legs were shaking. Liam kissed her softly, and reached into the box again, but she placed a hand on his wrist lightly. “We have all weekend to play with them. I need you in me now.”

His pupils dilated even further, and he nodded, standing up to slip off his clothes. Although she’d seen him bare numerous times, it never failed to amaze her that the man whose heart belonged to her was so breathtaking. His body looked as it was crafted by the gods themselves, chiseled to perfection, undoubtedly due to his strict fitness and diet regimen.

He grabbed a condom from the box of toys, but before he could tear it open, she stopped him. “Could we… go without one this time? I’m on birth control.”

She wanted so desperately to tell him the whole truth, but she decided she’d wait until the time was right. It would sound like an irrational decision to him, but she had thought it out nearly every day since she left Cordonia for the first time.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, but… I’ll pull out. Just in case.” He looked unsure, but lowered himself onto the bed next to her anyways.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just thought,” she shook her head. “Nevermind.”

“No, please continue. Don’t ever feel like you can’t be honest with me, Elliott.” He touched her cheek softly.

“The only time we had sex without protection was our first time in the garden, remember?” She smiled softly, reminiscing.

“Of course I remember, my love. It’s one of my favorite times that we’ve been together.”

“Oh, so you’re ranking them now?” She smirked.

“Definitely not. Every time is special, but that one was even more special to me.”

“I was thinking we could kind of recreate the night.”

His eyes twinkled, full of love for the woman he could never fully give himself to. It was depressing, but Elliott pushed those thoughts behind her horniness and flipped on top of him.

“I love when you take charge, El,” he said, his voice verging on a growl.

“You’ve never used that nickname. What gives?” She tried joking, but his bare shaft pressed between her legs was distracting to say the least.

“I don’t know, I thought it was cute,” he shrugged. “I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”

“No, I love it,” she breathed, and began grinding her hips against his. His grip on her hips tightened, and she leaned forward, kissing him deeply.

He grabbed his dick and rubbed his tip against her opening, teasing her. “You’re a tease.”

He pressed his hips upwards, entering her. Her body shuddered with pleasure as her walls adjusted to his size.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, as her hips moved lazily against his.

“It’s so weird hearing you curse, King Liam,” she whispered in his ear, kissing his neck.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. “I’ve never been aroused by a title before, but I have to say that ‘King Liam’ sounds delectable coming from your lips.”

He moved his hands to grip underneath her ass, lifting and lowering her the length of his shaft. She mewled in response, her legs tightening their grip around his middle. “I’ll call you whatever you want as long as you speed it up,” she purred.

He picked up the pace, deepening his thrusts. All of her worries of the future were a fading blip, her sole focus on pleasuring and being pleasured by Liam.

Before she knew it, he’d flipped her, raised her hips, and pounded into her from behind. “Oh,” she cried, her guttural moan muffled by the thick down pillow.

He sped up, his skin smacking against hers relentlessly, the sounds of ecstasy filling the room. She turned back to gaze at him through half lidded eyes, and was met with Liam’s sultry concentrating face. She’d seen it many times before, when discussing security issues with Bastien, but never in this context. 

She felt herself getting wetter and wetter at the sight of him getting off inside of her. She was the one pleasuring him behind the scenes. She was the one exploring parts of him the public would never see, much less Madeleine. She got to see a side of Liam that not a single soul would ever experience. It gave Elliott a new sense of security, despite the harrowing situation they were in.

He reached into the box again and grabbed a handheld vibrator she hadn’t seen before. “I’m close, my love, and I want to make sure you’re there with me,” he panted, before switching it on.

He tried handing it to her, but instead, she guided his hand between her legs. “Oh fuck, El,” he cursed, sweat trickling down his clean shaven chest.

He leaned over her, keeping his fast pace, and placed the quivering toy between her folds. She arched her back in response, pushing herself further into the pillow.

The sensation of the vibrator mixed with getting fucked brought her to the edge quickly, and she released, her body convulsing beneath Liam’s. She shrieked his name, clutching the sheets. “Oh, Liam, fuck.”

He quickly followed her, his pace becoming more jerky as he came with her. “Fuck, I love you, Elliott,” he shouted. The deep commanding bass of his voice reverberated off the stone walls.

When they could finally move, Liam plopped next to her, spooning her while peppering soft kisses across her neck and shoulders.

She couldn’t have imagined herself anywhere else in that moment but Liam’s arms.

----

After they cleaned up, Elliott threw on a robe and flopped onto the couch, turning on the TV to browse through channels.

He sat next to her shortly after, clad with sweats and a plain t-shirt. “This might be a terrible time, but we need to discuss something rather difficult.”

“That phrasing definitely scares me, but go ahead,” she joked, turning the TV off.

“We’re being pressured to pursue producing an heir,” Liam shook his head, pain and regret dripping off of his every syllable.

“Wh… What?” She forced out. Her knees wobbled, the air knocked out of her lungs. She knew it was coming, but not this soon after the wedding.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his hands balled into fists at his side.

“Why? You just got married! I thought we’d have a couple years at least!” she said, her voice hiking up an octave.

“With Constantine passing away and the terrorist attacks, there’s still some uneasiness within the people and nobles. They’re not sure that we’re still stable as a country. It’s more for the benefit of our image than anything. Trust me, I’ve held off as long as I could.” He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Are you going to have to fuck her?” Elliott’s voice quivered, her breath unsteady. She didn’t know if she was ready for the answer.

His eyes widened. “No, Elliott, I would never. We don’t have feelings for each other like that. The public doesn’t need to know that we’re not having intercourse.”

Elliott’s chest loosened a bit, but she was still cautious as she waited for him to continue. “We’re either opting for adoption, or artificial insemination. There’s not a fertility issue with either of us, but we’re both not capable of sex with each other. It just can’t happen.” He held her gaze, pleading with her to understand.

“I–I can’t continue this if you’re going to have a child with her, Liam. I’d be a homewrecker. I can’t let you be that kind of dad to your kid,” Elliott shook her head, tears freely falling.

His jaw dropped, and he staggered back. “Elliott, my love, I–”

“I know you love me, and I know that I love you. I know that life is going to be so fucking hard without each other, but I can’t do this to your future kid,” she sobbed, sinking into the couch. “You and Madeleine may have consented to our relationship, but your child didn’t sign up for this. Imagine if they found out about us? He’d think so little of you. I can’t have that.”

Her shoulders shook, her breath heaving in and out of her lungs shakily. She was experiencing a loss like she’d never felt before. She could stay with the love of her life in order to satiate her desire to be with him, but at the expense of horrendous guilt, knowing she could possibly break a family up and warp Liam’s future child’s perception of him.

If they stayed together, and the public found out about them, he’d be painted as the bad guy, even though Madeleine encouraged the affair. She’d throw him to the wolves, and he’d be absolutely obliterated by the press.

There wasn’t a winning solution to this problem. They were going to have to do what was best for everyone else, instead of what they truly wanted.

“I’m so sorry, Liam, but I can’t do this. I love you, but I can’t do this anymore,” she repeated and the excruciating pain in her chest continued.

“Elliott, we can figure it out, I know we can–”

“We can’t, Liam! This is it! This is the last time you’re going to see me!” She shouted, her voice trembling and unstable.

“We can still be friends,” he said softly, kneeling next to her trembling form on the couch. “I still want you in my life no matter what, Elliott.”

Anger flashed through her disjointed train of thought. Before she could gather them together, she unleashed her momentary rage on him.

“You’re really that selfish, Liam? You’re that fucking selfish that you could want to maintain the picture perfect life and get everything you could ever want, while keeping me on a short leash? To be there for you emotionally, physically, sexually, but I get nothing in return?” She stood up, pushing an accusatory finger into his exposed chest.

“I have to work under a pen name because of everything that happened. You can’t even Google my government name without reading about how much of a whore I am. I risked my whole life and career to be with you, and you didn’t have the decency to publicly defend me. You just sided with everyone else except for the woman you supposedly ‘love’,” Elliott continued, pushing a tormented Liam closer and closer to the door.

“I have to fly back home when you’re done with me and leave all of my closest friends. This is my real home. I have people who love me and care for me here. I fell in love with Cordonia, its people, and you. But I’m pretty much a prisoner in a dungeon every time I come over,” she rolled her eyes, refusing to shut her mouth and let Liam speak. “All for sex. All for a quick fuck and less than 48 hours of your time before I’m shuttled off back to the cold, heartless city of New York.”

Liam opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Elliott suddenly cackled, cutting off any attempt of him speaking.

“I forgot to tell you that I landed a book deal with a huge publishing company in the city. They want a few novels out of me. They loved my first rough draft of my book so much that they offered me a multi-book deal,” she smiled, shaking her head.

“That’s incredible, baby–”

“I was excited to tell you and instead all I can think about is how by the time I get my first book printed and released, you’ll have a kid. A family,” Elliott walked away from Liam, and sat at the kitchen table, taking a long swig from the champagne bottle.

After a long moment of silence between them, Liam finally spoke. “I know it seems like the universe is fighting us tooth and nail. I know that this situation is the worst we could be in. But Elliott,” he sat down across from her and lifted her chin up with his finger, “You’re the only woman I’ll ever love, and I won’t give up on this unless you tell me to leave you alone.”

“You know I don’t want to tell you to leave me alone. That’s the last fucking thing I want to do, but that’s how it has to be. You’re being selfish right now, Liam. You’re allowed to be selfish sometimes. This whole situation was selfish, but I guess it was okay since Madeleine okay-ed it,” she took another deep drink from the bottle. “But your child is completely innocent. They don’t deserve to be caught up in your selfish decisions.”

He flinched, and his form deflated. “I think… you might be right, El.” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes glistening. “I guess it was absurd to think this affair would last forever.”

She smiled sadly. “It was fun while it lasted.”

“I’ll always love you, El. I’ve always been truthful about that. You’re the only woman I’ll ever love.”

She leaned forward to cup his face in her palm. “I’ll never love anyone the way I love you, Liam.” She took another gulp of the alcohol. “I guess now that you’re confessing, I’ll have to confess, too.”

His brows furrowed as he waited for her to continue.

“I have an appointment with my OBGYN next week. I’ve always wanted one, but I’ve been seriously contemplating a hysterectomy for months now. Since you married Madeleine, really.”

“What? Why?” His eyes widened in surprise.

“I can’t see myself with children, but I can with you. You’re the only man I could ever picture having children with,” her eyes filled with tears. “It’s not a punishment to myself. I just know in my heart I’ll never want children again.”

His eyes brimmed with tears threatening to spill. “I’m so sorry, Elliott.”

Her chin wobbled as the truth of the situation finally set in. She was no longer his, and he was no longer hers. The crown disrupted the fate of the lovers, and there was no amendment.

----

[asocier]

interaction guide for emile! 

last edited: april 6th, 2021

          emile ... my sweet baby boy. he’s an extremely friendly muse all around, and while he seems like he’d crumple at the first sign of danger, emile has surprisingly good fight or flight instincts. there’s a part of him that can work well under pressure, so when the world literally is on fire, emile will unexpectedly take charge and call the shots. of course, that’s when the pressure is really on — for the most part, emile is extremely non-confrontational and is perpetually stuck in a loop of ‘what am i doing with my life?’ as he wakes up everyday to a job he doesn’t care for. he makes the best of things, however, and finds pleasure in the simple things. he especially loves being out in nature, so that’s where he’ll truly be himself. in terms of his love life, he’s trying — that’s all i can really say on the matter. he’d be a good boyfriend, though, once things get serious; my sources have confirmed this. 

          supernatural plots — boy howdy, does emile befriend supernatural beings easily! i’m not sure what it is, but he really has a history of forming meaningful relationships with those who aren’t human, and it might just stem from the fact he thinks they’re incredibly interesting so long as, you know, they aren’t trying to kill him. so throw your magical girls, your aliens, your monsters, your non-human muses at emile because boy howdy is he down for the shenanigans and the adventure that comes alone with befriending these muses. he will absolutely literally be so fascinated by them and not give them grief if they’re nice to him !!! if they try to kill him, boy howdy will he be ready to run for his life because emile is already scared of everything and now he gotta run to save his ass. 

          family friendly wholesome plots — emile + children is literally one of the best things on this blog. i say this for like two other muses on this blog too but c’mon, emile and kids literally get along so well, how could i not suggest this possibility too in an interaction guide for him? he’s one of best babysitters and would love to interact with young muses, even if they aren’t small children but still quite young. even tween/teenagers might get along with him ( though if they’re going through some angst, he’s gonna be ... a lil awkward )

          nature/camping/plant plots — i mentioned that emile loves being out in nature, and this has long been the case since he was young. i make fun of him by saying he’s like an overgrown boy scout just because he has so much knowledge about the outdoors and camping from years of doing things like hiking. he also has a green thumb; really loves himself a nice plant. so here are some plots where your muse: 

needs a camping/hiking buddy and invites emile ( pre-est relationship most likely )

meets emile at a campsite ( first meeting type of plot ! )

is a camp counselor at a summer camp and emile is your co-counselor/head counselor and yall gotta take care of all these fking kids together for a whole summer 

works at a plant nursery/floral shop and they always see emile come in bc he hoards plants and loves to buy fresh cut flowers, either for himself or his sister, alison bc she loves flowers too 

just ... talks to emile about his plants casually or asks him for advice on why their plant isn’t doing so well 

needs a new trail mix/energy bar recipe and asks emile ( a neighbor? a friend? someone who is also looking at recipe books in a book store? ) if he has any

          art/photography/music plots — like his sister, emile dabbles in a lot of hobbies too and he shares a lot of those with alison. the biggest differences lie in the fact that while alison favors watercolor painting or body art with acrylics, emile prefers sketching with paper/pen and paper. similarly, while alison mainly plays the piano, emile plays the violin. photography is something both siblings share, though emile likes to take pictures of landscaping in addition to portraits. here are some plots where your muse:

needs a photographer for their *insert special event here* and hires emile 

needs a violinist for their *insert fancy event here that requires live music* and hire emile

asks emile for violin lessons 

wants to play pictionary with emile and that’s how they learn that emile can draw really well

          “what even is emile’s romantic life” plots —  my boy really tries to fall in love, okay. he tries, but it’s not that easy for him when you take into account how he’s not really out of the closet to a lot of people in his life and how he generally just has terribly luck with romantic relationships in general. this started back in high school, and it really doesn’t do much for his self esteem when it come to dating. it kind of puts dating on the back burner for him, really, especially since he isn’t in the best place in his life at the moment to find a serious relationship, but he still likes to try and go on dates once in a while, and he’s trying to learn to embrace the fact he isn’t straight. so here are some plots where your muse: 

bothers emile a lot about why he doesn’t have a girlfriend and plays matchmaker/tries to teach him how to talk to girls because that’s what you think the problem is 

gets set up on a blind date with emile and it either goes really well, or it goes really badly. plot twist: you two used to know each other somehow ( high school, community college, work before one of yall left the office, camp a while back, ect ). 

plays a supportive role in helping emile discover his sexuality ( can be in high school or afterwards ). your muse can either be super helpful or super intrusive and it makes emile suffer but, you know, your muse has good intentions. this “help” can be your muse sharing their experiences with emile, taking him out to lgtbq+ spaces to help him embrace this side of his identity, assuring emile that it’s not wrong to like the same sex, ect. they could also just take a balls to the wall crazy approach if that’s more their style, up to your tbh

          miscellaneous plots — here are some more random ideas in case you’re feeling stuck still! i’d like to remind everyone that my wishlist tag is always a great place to look too if you aren’t feeling what’s in the guide. i hope that the guide gives you an idea at least as to how you might approach a muse and what plots work well for them!

your muse offers to find emile a better job because they can tell he’s not loving his current job, so they offer him a helping hand. similarly, your muse offers to help emile go back to school because they wants to see emile succeed and be happy doing something in a field he actually cares about.  

office plots — your muse works at the same law firm as emile and shares an office space with him. please talk to him because emile needs a friend at work to make his job more enjoyable :’) 

high school plots — emile does have a high school verse like most of my other muses do. the bulk of what happens in high school involves emile discovering he’s not straight and being bullied for it for nate and cedric. on top of that, he’s witnessing his sister go through a really bad relationship, but with how secretive she is with things, it’s hard for him to intervene. there’s a lot of avenue for serious plots in this verse, but as with alison, lighthearted high school plots can also happen with emile! teenagers aren’t just full of angst, after all. sometimes we just need some shenanigans.

community college plots — instead of university, emile attends community college for a couple years to obtain his associates so that he can work as a legal assistant. he works odd jobs to keep himself afloat, and for the most part, he’s just vibing. 

werewolf verse plots —a post explaining the basics of this verse can be found here! in this verse, emile is considered a beta and spent his whole life practically raising his sister, alison. growing up, the siblings did not belong to a stable pack, and as such, they pretty much spent most of their life kind of living how they wanted. emile in this verse is just vibing, too. he’s not looking for a mate or for drama, he’s just trying to make sure his sister doesn’t get herself into trouble.           i’d like to re-emphasize that this is not a true omegaverse even though i do categorize muses as alphas, omegas, or betas, mention bonding between werewolves, nesting, heat/rut, and the use of suppressants to control the severity of heat. the description of these topics, however, are very tame as the focus of this verse is not unhealthy power imbalances or plotless smut. this verse exists bc werewolves are cool, and also because the idea of bonding between partners is where i find the most interest since true bonding really embodies the “to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death” sentiment in marriage vows except even to a more serious degree. so yeah — werewolves. have your werewolf meet mine. it’ll be fun. 

[mowseries]

Allies Obstruct

=INTRO C: COLLAPSING PEACE=

((Courtesy of @codedhopes & @sirensniper))

<<—Previous——————Table of Contents——————Next—>>

{Meanwhile, in England…}

[It was a peaceful evening as Jack and Kate entered the quiet flat.

The siren sniper gave a smile, her eyes hidden by the sunglasses she typically wore in her Civilian form.]

Kate: An’ here we are! Welcome to yer new digs.

[The recovering newbie fighter awkwardly made his way into the living room, looking around in awe.]

Jack: Man, it sure is nice to be out of the hospital…

[It was much nicer than any place he had lived before he joined up with Greater Dusk, that was for sure.]

Kate: Rent’s been paid for a couple months, so it’s all yours.

Jack: What? Aw, geez, Miss Eight—you didn’t have to do that—

Kate: Aw, maybe not, heh. But yew deserve something nice after all that happened. Give ya some time to let things calm down.

[Since he wasn’t sure how to respond to that, he just followed the tall assassin as she gave him a run-down of the place.]

Kate: This here’s the sitting room, Ah’ guess… bedroom’s over that way; careful about the shower, they have it kinda like a large version of a sink sprayer, real easy t’ get water everywhere…

Kate: -Walking into the kitchen- It’s all pretty small—but that’s standard for somethin’ in Britain.

[Inside the kitchen, there was a large box on the table.]

Jack: ? Uh—what’s in there?

Kate: Oh, just a lil’ somethin’ t’ get ya started. -Grins-

[Jack put down his suitcase.

Despite being a member of a (in)famous (and now banned) battle team, he didn’t really have many belongings. Only the changes of clothes that had been foisted onto him as part of the contract of being a team member… which he hadn’t been allowed to read before signing, of course.]

Jack: -Puts such thoughts aside for now- Let’s see what we’ve got here…

[Kate looked on with a relaxed smile, biting down on a dart as the clumsy combatant fumbled with the wrapping paper. She let him figure out a way to open it on his own; she was just enjoying the downtime.

It was something she didn’t get very often, with her job. Nor had she ever really had anyone other than family to spend it with. But Jack—Jack was different than the others.

As the sponsors were wont to say, he was “a good”—and he deserved nice things.]

Jack: Geez, whatever’s in here has some weight to it—!

[He heaves a large hiking backpack out of the box, looking more than a little surprised.]

Jack: A backpack?

Kate: -Gleeful ping- Yeah, that’s part of it, fer sure.

Jack: Looks like—is that a sleeping bag tied at the top?

Kate: Yup!

Jack: -Inspecting the outside- Wow, it comes with a water bottle and a compass…

[He unzips one of the compartments.]

Jack: Man, you really stuffed this to the gills. Poncho, first aid kit…

Jack: —!

[He pulls out something in clear plastic wrapping, with “Nighthawk Industries” printed on one end.]

Jack: AW SWEET COOL GOGGLES.

Kate: -Amused smile-

[He IMMEDIATELY puts those on—they fit rather nicely once he adjusted the strap—]

Jack: Dude—

Jack: These are like, perfect fit—

Kate: David had ‘em custom made. They’ve got lotsa functionality. Good for protectin’ ‘gainst rain an’ wind, a’ course…

Kate: -Puts her hand to her hip, grinning like crazy- But beyond that…~

Kate: Go look out the window, why don’cha?

[Jack glanced out the window in the kitchen, and Kate abruptly turned off the lights.]

Jack: !!!

Jack: ...? What's this—

Jack: —! OoooooOOHOHO THIS THING HAS NIGHT VISION—

Kate: Bingo~

Jack: So THIS is what the world looks like to you at night! (I feel so damn BADASS—)

Kate: -Turns the light back on- Neat, ain’t it? Lady Ky made those for ya—I put her contact info in yer phone in case you’d like another job of hers…

Jack: …? Uh… -What phone, we don’t have a— - Wait a minute…

[He eagerly starts digging through the rest of the backpack, pulling out the stuffing inside it as he went.

The top of the backpack was a nicely pressed set of casual clothes, shrunk to be airtight to pack in as much as possible. Underneath, there was a small bed roll, some blankets, and a travel/camping pillow.]

Jack: I’m surprised you didn’t put a whole tent in here, too…

Kate: Pup’s still workin’ on something that will fit but be spacious when you pop it out. He says you should just get a Spinarak an’ teach it Secret Power, an’ it’ll be even better than a tent.

Jack: Heh…

[Going through the pockets, he pulled out some maps, a small radio, a burner phone, and a wallet.]

Jack: ? -Peeks inside the wallet, curious-

Jack: !!! (That is—! A lot of gift cards! And–and cash, too?) You… -Kind of speechless-

[The sniper strode over and put her hand to his shoulder, giving a reassuring smile.]

Kate: One of these days, you’ll get outta here, Jackie. Be ready for a new life, what with GD not around anymore. That’s fer you to use t’ get around… pick out a nice ride of some kind, maybe, have a bit t’ eat an’ enough fer somewhere to stay… just until ya get yer footing. It should be good for a couple months once ya get stateside.

Jack: All this is…? (This is for me…?)

Kate: Our gift to you. | } Or… most of it, anyway. Still one more thing from Felix—he said it was important, but he’s still asleep… though his friend Piers is there t’ look after him. Ya might think of stopping by—it’s an easy shortcut to an’ through the Wilderness between worlds.

Jack: Wow, Miss Eight, I…

Jack: Honestly don’t know what to say…

Jack: -Gestures to the gifts all over the table- This is… -Gestures around the living room- All this is… man, it’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me, ever.

Kate: Aw, it’s the least we can do! Yer a good man, Jack, an’ well-liked. ‘m only sorry we didn’t get all this to ya sooner.

[She walked over to the freezer and pulled out a gallon of ice cream. Jack’s eyes lit up when he saw it—but even moreso when she opened the fridge and brought out some steak.]

Kate: Let’s forget talkin’ fer a while an’ eat. M’ starved.

[Jack was more than happy to oblige, and Kate leaned back against the wall as she ate an ice cream cone with her one hand.

It was so nice to see Jack in such good spirits and properly well off after all that he’d been through. Ever since she first got to know him, she’d wanted to help—she’d grown more and more concerned for him the more he talked about Greater Dusk, about the way the team had treated him. She’d grown convinced he was in a dangerous situation, but even she couldn’t have anticipated what happened next.]

Kate: (Hmmmn…. The finals…. Still don’t have a good enough answer on what those crosses were. Malware of some sort, that’s for sure, but…)

[It was a grim prospect that required further investigation. It may not be her world, but she’d grown to care for the people in it.]

Kate: (Coding like that could cause a lot of damage.)

[She squinted behind her sunglasses, narrowing her eyes in distrust.]

Kate: (Whatever mysterious “provider” Jack said Blade was talking to is -probably- stateside… just like Blade is, that damn bastard…)

[Jack had told her that Blade had turned up dead.]

-=-=-=-=-

Jack: They....They sent it back to CherryDyn for them to look over what went wrong with him.

Jack: ....They said they found nothin', so they patched him up and kept him in for observation.

Jack: ....Then...

Jack: .......

Jack: He's dead, man. Dead.

Jack: .......

Jack: I...they told me he was...

Jack: Freakin' tortured…

Jack: ......

Jack: -turns away-

-=-=-=-=-

[…Kate, however, didn’t buy it for a minute.]

Kate: (That’s too convenient… Something isn’t right, here…)

Kate: -Broods- (That worm isn’t going to escape justice THAT easily, no sir…)

[…She was almost tempted to see to it herself, when she did come across him. But no—he had too much to answer for, and she would have to keep her head high and not sink to his level by turning away from doing the right thing.

Didn’t mean she couldn’t have the satisfaction of imagining otherwise.]

Kate: …

Kate: -Frowns and sighs internally- (…Look at me.)

Kate: (Off of work for once, and saddling myself up with another “case” that needs someone who cares…. Maybe Sis is right. Maybe I am a workaholic…)

Kate: -Finishes off the ice cream- Jack— do me a favor an’ make another cone, please…

Jack: Yeah, sure thing—

[She rubbed what was left of her right arm thoughtfully as he prepared seconds for her.]

Kate: (Not even on a job an’ I’m out there thinking like a killer…. Gotta try to remember not to let myself grow that bitter at the world…)

Jack: …Miss Eight?

Kate: Hmm?

Jack: I’ve been… wondering something…

Kate: -Accepts the second ice cream cone- Yeah?

Jack: I don't know how to word this right, but...

Jack: ...Stuff like this is kinda your thing, I know, but...why go through all this for me? I mean—I'm not anyone THAT important, and on top of that, I'm a Cherry…

Kate: …Well…. Ya… ya always treated me like a person. Not very many people do. -Looks away in thought- ‘m just Fighting Mighty Eight to them— or Artemis, herald of death. Or just a pretty face with lots of money to burn.

Kate: That means something to me.

Jack:  ...Really, huh... (I guess, with what she does…)

[There was silence for a while as Kate finished off the second ice cream cone. This time, she seemed satisfied.]

Kate: Thanks for the help, Jack. I could do it myself, but it’s awfully messy, heh…

Jack: Oh, no problem.

Kate: -Turns on the faucet to wash her hand- Well, this was a nice evening. It was good to see you settled in.

Jack: Oh—are you headed off?

Kate: Yes.

[She wiped her hand on a dishcloth as best she could.]

Kate: Stateside.

Jack: Wh—You're going back to America? This soon?

Kate: I have some investigating t’ do, Jack…. Ah’ don’t think this is over yet.

Jack: -Internal groaning- (Agh, she’s probably right…)

Kate: Things may have died down, but… somethin’ is wrong over there, Ah’m sure of it.

Kate: -Turns to face him- Y’ need t’ lay low for a while, too. I hate t’ leave at a tahm like this, but the longer it waits, the colder the trail gets. You should be safe here from any prying eyes of this world—but just in case…

[She walks over and places something on the table.]

Jack: A… is that a taser?

Kate: -Momentary twitch of a smile- (…Figured you’d just hurt yourself with pepper spray, so…) Between that an’ yer Combat abilities, you should be able t’ hold yer own long enough to call for help. -Points over at the cell phone- Either ping somebody or—couple a’ contacts in there, just a call away.

Jack: I...um.

Kate: Yes?

Jack: Look, I appreciate the gesture, Miss Eight, just—do I really need this thing, I mean, it's a little much—

[The Mighty Number works her dart over to the other side of her mouth and tilts her head just so, giving the CDN a look that said otherwise.]

Kate: ....

Jack: …Right, stupid question—

Jack: Thanks, I guess...

Kate: Hmm hmm. Yer welcome. Ah' better git goin' nao.

Kate: Stay safe, Jack Parker.

Kate: I’ll be in touch when I figure things out.

Jack: M'kay. Don't go do anything too crazy, alright?

[She gave a characteristic grin, slowly fading away from sight. There was the rattle of the front door, and then she was gone.

Jack takes another fresh look around his new home, rubbing the back of his head quietly as he sinks down into the couch. He couldn't help but wish Miss Eight would've stuck around a little more, but it wasn't like he could stop her.

She's got her mind set on things for his sake, too.]

Jack: (…Guess I better start looking over this stuff…)

<<—Previous——————Table of Contents——————Next—>>

[gripefroot]

Safe House

Bucky’s eyes are squeezed shut as your practiced fingers rove over him - a stream of curses starts to fall from his lips with an answering whimper from you. He won’t be able to hold back much longer - he can’t - he - 

A shove, and a snap. He bites his tongue, drawing the irony taste of blood as his eyes water, and your hands leave his shoulder. 

“Ow,” he whispers, eyes burning with unshed tears. His left ear is ringing something awful - it’s fortunate you’re on his right, because otherwise he’d be full-on deaf to whatever you’re saying. 

“One injury fixed, a dozen left to go,” you tell him wearily. Bucky lifts his head from the back of the chair he’s been sitting backwards in - he tilts his face back to observe you leaning on one foot against the doorway to the tiny living space, lips pressed close together and your usual smile absent. You look about as fantastic as he feels - meaning, not at all.  

“Your turn,” he grunts.  

“Don’t remind me.”  

Bucky pushes himself tenderly to his feet - his movements are slow and laborious, but yours are, too - it had been quite the mission, and while the sustained wounds are worse than usual, he supposes he should be grateful you’re both alive, and that Stark had had a safe house nearby. Not that Stark will appreciate the blood, dirt and other nasties your boots and his have dragged in. 

Limping to the counter, his eyes focus and unfocus on the half-spilled bucket of first aid supplies. Wiggling his right fingers, much better now that his shoulder is back in place but still sore - Bucky glances back at your face, and picks up some gauze and hydrogen peroxide. The bloody nose and fat lip are definitely the worse looking, but from the way you’re cradling your left calf, he can guess what he needs to go for first.  

He limps back to the rickety chair as you gently lower yourself to sit - collapsing with a groan and a wince.  

“Should’ve taken your pants off first, babe,” Bucky sighs. “I can’t work around them.” 

“Take them off yourself.” With your eyes closed, head leaning back slightly - you’re clearly half-out of it with pain. Dropping the supplies to the ground, Bucky pulls out his only remaining knife, (and he hopes Hydra appreciates the quality of the knives he’d left behind in the rush to escape), and slides the blade beneath the torn and bloody gash on your leg to slice off the fabric at your knee. It sticks to all the blood, and gently he pries it off.  

“I hate this,” you mumble after a minute, when he’s finally gotten the garment off the stab wound, pooling around the top of your dirty boots.  

“I know, babe,” Bucky says sympathetically. “But just think - you can take revenge on me next. I think I broke a few ribs.” 

“I don’t wanna take revenge.” Your words slur slightly slightly. “I wan’us to be happy together.” 

“We will be,” he assures you. “If we get better quick, this safe house is pretty private…” Bucky trails off, grinning to himself although he knows you can’t see. You do give a snort, however, and then wince. 

“I’ve already taken one pounding,” you muse, as he dumps some peroxide on the gash - it froths, and you nearly yelp, eyes shooting open. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Bucky apologizes quickly, already mopping up the liquid. “It’s a shallow cut, babe. You got lucky.”  

“I sure don’t feel lucky.” 

“And you’re extra lucky because you’re here with me, and my excellent nursing skills.” With all the blood cleaned away, the cut really does look better - Bucky tears off some gauze with his teeth, and starts winding it around your calf.  

“What nursing skills?” you ask with amusement. “Outdated tips you flirted out of the nurses during World War II?” 

“And what’s wrong with that?” Bucky asks indignantly. Tying off the gauze into a tidy knot, he yanks it tight - and you laugh and give a strangled cry at the same time, your hand flying down to swat his away. Your eyes are bright now - but a little too bright, he judges. Reaching up to hold your chin in his hand, he frowns as he watches the pupils of your eyes widen and shrink - and he sighs.  

“Let me find some pain meds,” he says, and stands back up. Immediate mistake - his middle insides scream at the treatment, and his ankle throbs.  

“Bucky - ” you start, but he shakes his head as he gnaws on the inside of his mouth. Gotta take care of you first. He fumbles at the counter for...yes, that looks right, and there are bottles of water in the refrigerator. Bucky slumps back to you, passing them over and pointedly ignoring your narrowed look.  

You take the pills, and drink half the bottle. Then pass the rest to him, which he downs in three seconds flat.  

“You again,” you tell him, and grip onto the edge of the kitchen counter to hoist yourself to one foot.  

It goes back and forth for nearly an hour. You wrap his bruised and protruding ribs, he gets ice for your nose and lip, you bind up his ankle, he finds applesauce and tins of miniature wieners in a cupboard, and you wipe all the dried blood on his face from his burst eardrum. Your gentle touch is almost distracting from all the pain, and Bucky tries to focus on that, instead. It sort of works. Mostly doesn’t.  

A buzz on the counter - the burner phone. You’re closest to answer it, and listen for a minute with a pinched expression as Bucky curls himself over the back of the chair with a wince.  

The safe house stinks like mothballs. The carpet is outdated, and the air conditioner squeaks. But it’s safe, or so Bucky assumes.  

“Ok, thanks Stark.”  

Bucky rolls his head back to you - half your combat gear still hanging on, and the other half discarded onto the floor (and not in the fun, exciting way, either) - as you set down the phone.  

“They’ll be extracting us in four hours,” you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “He didn’t think this safe house would ever be used, so there’s no vehicle available.” 

Bucky groans, holding out a hand for the tin of wieners - you pass it to him, and he tries very hard to be grateful for something to fill the gnawing hunger in his gut. He gets hungrier when he’s wounded. It’s just a fact.  

“Gross,” you say. 

“I’m hungry,” he says plaintively. 

“So am I, but not that hungry.” A flicker of a smile - that’s good - and Bucky grins back as best he can as he slurps up the last wiener. “I never thought I’d say this,” you tell him after a moment. “But you should really put a shirt on. You look terrible.” 

“Wow, babe.” 

“Just being hon - ” 

“Shh!” Bucky stops chewing, tilting his head to the side as his eyes widen - glancing around the teeny kitchen, into the sliver of living area he can see - little padding steps, and he stands heavily from the chair, setting down the tin as quietly as he can. 

“Oh, come on,” you mumble softly behind him. “Not now.” 

He has that knife, which tightens in his grip as he limps over towards the front door - a single shaft of sunlight is coming through the crooked frame, and before he can do more than yelp in surprise -  

A flap at the bottom of the door flips open, and an orange tabby cat streaks inside with a yowl of surprise to see, well, people.  

“A kitty!” you coo. 

“Get out,” Bucky growls at it.  

“Oh, be nice,” you say in a scolding tone, and before he can scold you back into sitting down, you’ve hopped on your good foot into the living space, and immediately the cat pads over to you, meowing as if in complaint of Bucky’s inhospitality. “I didn’t know there was a caretaker here,” you croon at the cat, reaching down to stroke its ears. Bucky listens a moment longer, and then slides the knife back into his belt.  

“Some caretaker,” he snaps. “This place stinks.” 

“It’s nondescript,” you point out, lowering yourself gingerly onto the ratty couch. Immediately the cat leaps up beside you, and crawls into your lap.  

“It’s gross.” 

“It’s better than walking back to New York.” 

“Fine. But I’m leaving a bad review on - what is it?” 

“Yelp,” you offer. 

“Yeah. That thing.” Another glare for the cat, and Bucky turns sit down as well. On your left, because his ear is still ringing painfully.   

It stinks. The entire situation stinks. Can’t even pounce on you like he wants - no one else is around, and he can’t even take a full breath or walk straight. His head lolls against the back of the couch, and Bucky sighs at the ceiling.  

“What else did Stark say?” he asks peevishly.  

“Not much.” You’re quiet for a moment, fingers buried in the cat’s fur as you shift your weight to stretch your wounded leg out. “Didn’t even say thanks for planting that virus on that Hydra server,” you sigh. 

“Typical Stark.”  

“You did great back there, by the way,” you tell him, and he glances over to see your smile - he stomach does a funny turn unrelated to his broken ribs, and he grins back without thinking.  

“Thank you,” Bucky says with unnecessary grace. “So did you, babe.” 

“Ugh, I got stabbed.”

“All the best agents get stabbed.” 

“You didn’t.” 

“Not today,” he says fairly. “But I did get an entire desk thrown at my head. That’s gotta count for something, right?” 

A tired laugh. “Right.” 

Absently Bucky reaches over, and starts scritching the kitty’s ears. It pricks up its head, and regards Bucky curiously. “Don’t get any wrong impressions,” he tells the cat severely. “I’m just checking for electric bugs or cameras.” 

“Sure, Bucky,” you say.  

The cat stands, and crawls over the couch to Bucky, planting its paws on his thigh to reach up and sniff at his chin with interest.  

“Ugh,” Bucky wrinkles his nose as he pets down the kitty’s neck. “Gross.” 

“I like cats.” Your tone is conversational as you continue to scratch its back. “Maybe I’ll get one, someday.” 

The cat licks at one of the bruises on his cheek, and Bucky groans. “Ew.” 

“You’d better watch it,” you tease. “If you keep complaining too much, I’ll know for sure that you’re secretly hiding your deep and abiding love of all felines.” 

“Not even funny, babe.” 

“It’s pretty funny.” Your head is resting against the back cushions beside his, and Bucky leans over with a smile. “You’re always pretending to be gruff and tough,” you say softly. “But you’re as fluffy as this cute lil kitty.” 

“Don’t tell anyone.” Bucky sticks out his lower lip, and you giggle. The cat starts at the sound, and leaps back into your lap, nuzzling into your elbow.  

“That you’re one of the best men I’ve ever known?” you ask, quirking brow. “Okay, Bucky. Whatever you say.” 

A warm, glowy feeling is spreading through his chest - again, not from the rib situation, and he doesn’t have the words to reply to you. After another minute, you scoot lay on your back lengthwise, your injured leg propped up on Bucky’s lap as the cat snuggles into your side and closes its eyes. Carefully he unties the laces of your combat boots, and tosses them away.  

“I’m gonna rest until the team comes,” you mumble with a yawn.  

“Okay. I’ll keep a lookout in case this little menace here turns out to be on Hydra’s payroll.” 

A snort. “Okay, Bucky. Whatever you say.” 

And a few minutes later - it’s just snoring in the little shack of a safe house. The kitty’s tail twitches, your lips fall open with deep breaths, and Bucky passes out cold and completely forgets his promise to be on guard.  

Oh well.  

[avengeultrons]

Title: Love was made for Me and You(Reader x Bucky Barnes) 

Summary: The anti-Valentine’s Day reader decides to plan something special for their hopeless romantic of a boyfriend. 

Word Count: 1547

Warnings: It’s just really cute OKAY

A/N: My lil heart really can’t take a romantic Bucky but here it is anyway… I’m deceased. Here’s the song I was listening to, originally sang by Nat King Cole but I loove the Frank Sinatra version. I hope you enjoy!!

–

You always said that you “didn’t care about Valentine’s Day”. It was obviously just another commercial holiday for companies to make more money. Excess, mushy gushy things weren’t your cup of tea. What’s the point?

Bucky Barnes felt a little different. Being the hopeless romantic that he was; he loved the holiday. Everything about it, really. All he wanted to do was spoil whomever he could. It was a whole day celebrating love! What’s not to like?

Most people would wonder how you ended up with such a lovey dovey boyfriend. Hell, that’s what your best friend Natasha asked on the daily. That’s what she asked you on February 14th, while the two of you were relaxing at a small cafe away from Stark Tower.

“Nat, we’ve gone through this already. James just loves differently than I do,” you rolled your eyes at her over the steaming cup of coffee in front of you. She pretended to gag as you said it, glancing out of the coffee shop window at the people passing by.

“You just called him James?” Natasha laughed lightly, watching a pink blush dust your cheeks, “So, what are you gonna do for Valentine’s Day? Nothing?” she leaned forward on her elbows and raised an eyebrow at you.

“I may not like the holiday, but I’m not selfish,” you gave a huff and slurped at your coffee to hide a smile forming on your face, “I’m making dinner.” You thought the idea was genius; you’d be making Bucky so happy, you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

Natasha snorted, shaking her head in disbelief at you. Her fiery red hair fell out of her ponytail and into her face as she did so, “You really do love him, huh?” she giggled when your cheeks turned scarlet, taking that as her answer.

“You’d better let me know how it goes, Y/N. I do not want to have to find out from Steve, like when you two started dating?” you laughed lightly at her, the nervous excitement already bubbling up inside you.

You had so much to do before Bucky came home from being out with Sam. Being with Bucky for a whole day was the last thing that he wanted to do, but you and Steve managed to convince him somehow.

It had been almost a year with Bucky; yet every moment you spent together felt like you’d been together all of your life. You’d never felt that way about anyone before; it was a scary and daunting feeling, really. All you wanted to do was make him happy, so if making a homemade dinner and sipping on expensive wine with rose petals around the table while being dressed in your Sunday best made him happy; you were going to do it.

“I don’t know what to do next! What do I do?” you were on the verge of screaming at Steve over FaceTime, the stress of the day taking its toll on you. The noodles were boiling away in salted, bubbling water, the sauce was cooking on the burner opposite of it. Boxes, utensils, and ingredients littered the counters and made you want to pull your hair out. Lasagna was harder to make than you thought, and the recipe you found on Pinterest was proving to be useless.

“Calm down, Y/N. All you have to do now is layer the lasagna,” Steve chuckled lightly, kicking his feet up on the coffee table in front of him, “It looks great,” he tried his best to reassure you, Lord knows you needed it.

“This is a mess,” you shook your head in disbelief at him as you layered cheese and pasta with sauce, “The things you do for the people you love,” you weren’t thinking when you said it, which made it even more shocking. You’d never said the ‘L’ word about Bucky before. Of course it was true, but were you ready to admit it to him? Would he even feel the same way?

Steve- who was casually sipping on a beer at the time that you said it- sprayed the fizzing alcohol, his eyes widening in surprise, “What? You just said it? You do? Natasha!!” he yelled for Natasha off the screen, a huge smile on his face.

Natasha sauntered over casually, her own eyes widening as Steve retold the events that had just taken place. Unbelievable. Your life wasn’t some television show!

“Could you two be quiet for, like, two seconds?” you huffed, practically dropping the pan of lasagna into the oven. The fate of your dinner was in that cooking machine’s hands now.

“You really love him? Oh, this is the greatest Valentine’s Day ever. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when you say those three magic words,” Steve teased, staring dreamily off into the distance. You groaned, pouring yourself a much needed glass of wine.

“Of course I love him,” you said simply. Even as you said it; your heart fluttered. The words “I love you” weren’t just words you threw around like confetti. Saying it out loud was a huge step for you; it made a giddy smile dance across your face.

“Okay, this is quite possibly the best day ever,” Natasha remarked, peeking over Steve’s shoulder until her face was taking up the majority of the screen, “My two best buddies, in l-o-v-e,” she sang as she spelled the word “love”, a groan escaping your lips with Steve following in suit.

“How does that song go? Love was made for me and youuuu,” Steve laughed as him and Natasha broke out into song, singing L-O-V-E by Nat King Cole.

“Okay, I really have to go now,” you couldn’t help but laugh at the two of them, “You’re so annoying. I’ll talk to you guys later!” With that; you clicked off of the video chat. Somehow; you weren’t feeling as stressed. You’d be able to get dressed without having a heart attack, so it seemed. But now; you had that song stuck in your head.

“Y/N? Y/N, I’m back!” Bucky’s voice traveled through the apartment, a smile making its way to your face. You dropped the remainder of your trail of rose petals near the dining table and placed a box of chocolates on his plate, “Sorry I couldn’t come home sooner, Sam wouldn’t let me go,” he groaned, which only made you laugh, “Where are you?”

“I’m in here!” you replied, smoothing the creases of your dress. Butterflies started to flutter wildly in your stomach as you heard his footsteps inch closer to the dining room.

“What are you doing in here? Oh,” Bucky’s voice faltered and a smile made its way to his face as he saw you with a wide smile adorning your own features, “What’s all this?” he raised an eyebrow and inched closer to you, his hands behind his back as he took everything in.

“I know how much of a hopeless romantic you are, so I thought I’d do something special,” you beamed, “Do you like it? Oh, you don’t like it. I knew Natasha and Steve were teasing me for a reason,” you looked down at the floor while your cheeks grew hot from embarrassment. Bucky laughed lightly and reached a hand out to you, tilting your chin up gently.

“I love it. It’s quite amazing, really. Thank you,” he smiled, “I know how much you are not a ‘hopeless romantic’ and usually can’t stand the holiday, but I couldn’t help myself,” Bucky placed a pizza box, a box of your favorite chocolates, and a bouquet of pink roses into your hands, “The pizza is heart shaped, by the way. I hope you like it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of everything; you both did the opposite of what you enjoyed for the person you loved. Bucky laughed, too, “I love it!” you squealed, sniffing the roses, “Gosh, I love you. I-I’m sorry if that was a little straightforward but it’s true and I-” before you had a chance to feel self conscious about what you had just said, Bucky pressed a kiss to your lips. Well, lots of kisses really.

“I love you, too,” he said breathlessly, an airy smile adorning his features. You laughed lightly and placed your Valentine onto the table behind you before wrapping your arms around Bucky’s neck. You pressed another lingering kiss to his lips, unsure of the last time that you’d been so happy.

“What’s burning?” Bucky pulled away from you with an eyebrow raised, your eyes widening in fear. The food!

“Shit,” you mumbled, running off to the kitchen, “The lasagna!”

What you took out of the oven wasn’t lasagna anymore, but rather a block of burnt noodles and blackened cheese. You sighed loudly and turned to face Bucky, an apologetic look on your face, “It’s okay. We still have a heart shaped pizza, remember? Pizza, expensive wine, and chocolate?” Bucky smiled apprehensively as he proposed a new plan, a seemingly better plan.

Your shoulders dropped in relief, thankful that he wasn’t the least bit upset. With a nod, you took Bucky’s hand as he led the way to the table. This was a Valentine’s Day tradition you could get behind.