fic-recs-by-mink

[fic-recs-by-mink]

In honor of getting my editing software back from the evil clutches of he who shall not be named, I went back to my roots and made this for you @gladerscake 🖤

i'll forever be annoyed i never got to wife you up cause we live so far away from each other, oh well. hope you're doing well pretty girl

[fic-recs-by-mink]

Looking for a saucy medieval tradition to weave into your historical romances? Have no fear, foot-of-the-gallows marriage is here! Basically, if a man was about to be hanged and a woman stepped forward and said “I will marry this man!” he was spared because it was was seen as like “oh, she’ll rehabilitate him so we don’t have to kill him.” Now, I heard this from tiktok, so I could be wrong, and it could just be a folk tale or something that rarely happened in actuality. Either way, it’s a cool troupe I think more people should use (and I myself will be using). I think it would work really well with Orcs and Elves!

This is such an intriguing idea! I had to try it. If you end up writing it, tag me, if you are comfortable! I'd love to see what you do with it ^_^

I keep getting Orc ideas, and I can't resist them *feral invasive Orc thoughts* （￣ ｗ￣）Ψ

Orc (Saber) x GN elf reader

Word Count: 6K

TW: discussion of hanging, bad mother, sfw Orc fluff, a bit of melancholy with a happy ending, nonsexual mention of private body parts in the context of bathing

���Goodness, what’s this all about?” you grumbled, clutching your basket closer to you as you made your way through the crowd. 

The stench of rotten vegetables and too many people lingered in the air. 

“It’s a hanging,” a helpful imp beamed, hopping on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. Why people gathered all around to watch someone die, you had no idea, but more importantly, the crowd was blocking your path home. Industrious vendors selling ale and popcorn wove through the throng to collect what coins they could from the event. In the capital, everyone had a hustle, and few left the chance to make some money at the table. 

“Out of the way!” You shouted, shouldering whoever was unlucky enough to be in your way. 

The voice of the city guardsman who was reading off a list of offenses to the crowd drowned yours out, but with a few well-placed shoves, you managed to make it to the front. You were looking around, trying to figure out how to get across the plaza, when you glanced up to see a familiar face. 

“It’s you!” you blurted as your eyes locked with the brilliant chartreuse irises of the Orc standing on the gallows. 

He gave you a wan smile, lifting his tied hands to wave at you. His straight nose was up in the air as if all the rabble around him should be fortunate to have the privilege of watching him die. The thick olive locs you remembered being long had been roughly chopped short around his ears. Still, even dressed in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, he had a regal air about him. His barrel chest was puffed, strong muscles peaking between the frayed fabric. 

“Fifty counts of robbery…25 counts of counterfeiting gold coins…seven counts of horse theft…”

The Orc you’d met before’s name was Saber. He’d helped you get your broken cart into town one rainy afternoon…, and then he’d also stolen your necklace, which you’d realized after he’d disappeared. 

“As per the King’s edict, If any citizen pledges to save this soul from the gallows by way of marriage, please step forth.” 

Though he was handsome, no one raised their hands to save him. Instead, they all booed. Judging by the rotten vegetables hurled at him, he seemed to have robbed almost everyone in the capital. 

“Aye!” you shouted, hiking up your pants to pull yourself onto the stage. 

The guardsmen’s eyebrows shot up when you’d straightened yourself.

“I’ll marry the sorry bastard.” 

“Are you sure? He’ll most likely rob you and run off. He’s better off dead.” 

“I have business with this one,” you informed him, snapping your fingers. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.” 

The guardsman shrugged and jerked the noose off of his neck, a little disappointed. The crowd wasn’t happy either, hurling insults along with their vegetables. 

“Quiet! Quiet!” the guardsman shouted after shoving Saber forward for the “ceremony.”

He took a deep breath, jerking a notebook out of his pocket.

“Alright,” he began, snorting. “State your name for the record.” 

“(Y/N).”

“Lovely elven name,” he murmured as he jotted it down. “Now then, do you (Y/N) take this here, criminal, Saber Wintermaple to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

You gave him a sharp nod. 

“I do.” 

He swung a lazy eye at Saber. 

“Do you Saber Wintermaple, take this kind elf to be your betrothed?” 

He gave you a bright smile. 

“I do.” 

The guardsman snapped the book closed, shoving Saber towards you. 

“I hereby declare you two duly betrothed under the King’s law. This Orc is your problem now, citizen. You’d better keep him out of trouble, or you’ll be up here next to him!”

He handed you the thick rope looped around the binding, keeping Saber’s hands tied, and waved you two off. The audience, bored without bloodshed, had already started dispersing, making it easy for you to tug Saber towards the road leading to the forest. 

“I didn’t know I made such a pleasant impression,” Saber said cheerfully, following you out of town.

You whirled around and jammed a finger in his face. 

“I wouldn’t describe it as pleasant. You owe me a gold necklace! Give it back, or you can work off the coin you owe me!” 

He chuckled.

“I’m fresh out of coins, little elf.” 

He scratched his chin and looked up, thinking. 

“I’m pretty sure I lost that necklace in a game of dice.” 

He shrugged. 

“You lost my only possession of any value in a game of dice?” 

You scrubbed your hand over your face, counting back from ten so you didn’t explode.  

“Maybe I should have let you die.”

Frowning, you looked over him from toe to head. 

“At least you look strong enough. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do!” 

You stopped where the two of you stood in the middle of the trail and pulled a small charm from your basket. 

“I was going to use this on my coin purse since there was a thief on the loose, but it’s probably better applied to you!” 

You looped the charm around his neck, closing your eyes to whisper the spell. A gust of spirit wind, fluffed your hair as the magic twirled around Saber. When you opened your eyes again, there was a blue thread linking the two of you that only you could see. 

“What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on you. 

“It’s a binding spell, so you can’t run off with my stuff again,” you explained.

His eyebrows jumped, and he tugged at the little talisman around his neck. 

“It won’t come off.” 

You nodded proudly. 

“Exactly.”

He took a moment to examine you carefully, tapping his chin again. 

“Interesting,” he murmured.  

“What? What does that mean?” 

He smiled and shrugged.

“Lead the way, spouse.” 

You sighed, turning and pulling him through the bumpy trail in the woods to your little home. When you’d fled your homeland to the Capital, you’d been lucky to find an abandoned cottage outside the city walls. It wasn’t massive, with only the basic living quarters, but it must have at some point belonged to someone’s Saber’s size, as the door and counters were much too high. You’d spent much of the money you earned selling charms and ointments, buying stools and ladders to reach things. 

“You poor thing,” Saber sighed as you passed through the magic barrier you’d cast to keep your home hidden from bandits.

“You don’t need to patronize me,” you huffed. “You’re the one almost hanged and run out of town.” 

He ignored you, looking around. 

“I feel kind of bad for stealing your necklace now that I’ve seen where you live. This place is a mess.” 

You examined your home, trying to see it through his eyes. Every available surface was covered in books, alchemy equipment, or ingredients. Even the chairs were covered in cast-off scrolls, books, or charms. 

“It’d be nice to have a workshop,” you admitted. “But that’s much too expensive.”

You straightened your slumping shoulders and lifted your chin. 

“No matter, you won’t be spending much time sitting down. I’ve got loads of things that need doing.” 

He gave you a sharp nod and held out his hands. 

“You’ll have to untie me if you want me to work.” 

Pulling a small blade from your basket, you sawed through the thick binding. Free to move as he pleased, he wrung his stiff wrists as he perused your living room. Occasionally he would pick something up, then put it down again, finally crouching to examine a bucket filled with water. 

“What are you doing?” 

He peered up at the leak in the roof that was letting rainwater drip through. 

“This needs fixing, or the roof will rot out.”

Pushing off of his knees, he turned to you. 

“How long have you been living alone?” 

You blushed, embarrassed. 

“I dunno, my whole life, I guess. The elven town where I came from didn’t have an orphanage or anything, so when I was old enough, I took off toward the capital. It took a while to get here…but here I am. I thought there would be more…I don’t know…opportunity here.” 

“How has that worked out for you? Living in a house clearly not meant for you and marrying a man on the gallows.” 

You gave him an indignant snuff. 

“At least I’m not a thief!” 

He chuckled, leaning against a bookshelf, rolling a gold coin on his knuckles. Your eyes narrowed on it, and you reached in your pocket to find you’d been relieved of your day’s earnings. 

“Hey! You stole that!” 

He laughed, revealing straight white teeth, and jingled the other coins in his pocket. 

“Don’t worry, I can’t get away with it, right?” 

You sucked in a deep annoyed breath. 

“I have things to do. Make yourself useful and chop some wood. It’s going to be cold when the sun sets.” 

“Whatever you say, spouse,” he replied, giving you a sarcastic salute as you dropped your basket and hurried to the kitchen to get started on dinner. 

What had you been thinking marrying a criminal? You paused for a moment, eyes growing misty. You didn’t really think he still had your necklace, did you? You let out a sigh just short of a sob. Were you really that lonely? Maybe it hurt that he’d been so kind to you, just to trick you. You should have been happy to see him hanged, yet the lingering magic that followed all elves had whispered that you ought to save him. 

But why? You weren’t in any position to support a husband. Though you’d instructed yourself on the knowledge of various potions and charms, you weren’t the only one. The city was teaming with Academy-bred alchemists who far surpassed your skill. They had access to rare ingredients and an army of assistants. You had to scrape out a living selling your wares far cheaper than the competition even to get noticed at the market. Hustling day to day, you certainly didn’t have the time or money to pretty yourself up to find a partner. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, returning to chopping tubers for soup. 

A thick THWACK, drew your eyes out the kitchen window to Saber splitting logs across the lawn. He’d divested himself of his ratty shirt, and every thick muscle was on display as he lifted the ax over his head and dropped it down again. The logs felt apart like they were nothing more than twigs under his might. 

Your eye focused on the dark, wet slashes across his shoulder blades where his jailors had beaten him. He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced up and waved. Blushing, you hurriedly pulled the curtains, returning to your task. 

Unable to get his injuries out of your mind, you felt bad for making him chop wood while he was hurt. When you’d plopped the tubers into your cooking pot, you gathered up some healing and numbing salves, making your way out the door. 

“Need something?” he asked, looking up from his task. 

“Sit down,” you barked. 

A thick eyebrow rose, and he tipped his head. 

“Why? Planning on lobbing my head off?” 

You wrinkled your nose at him. 

“No, of course not! You’re massive. How would I even go about burying your body? I can’t have a rotting corpse stinking up the place. Just sit!” 

He leaned his axe against the stump he was using to brace the wood and sat down on it. You dug in your basket, pulling out some cleanser to clean the wounds. Beside the big ugly gashes, Saber’s skin was a smooth, pretty green, the planes of his muscles sharp and defined. The first brush of your hand on his back made him jump. 

“S-sorry,” you muttered.

“‘Ts fine. Just not used to people touching me. Go on.” 

You spread the thick gel you used carefully over each angry line. 

“What do you mean? You’ve never had a partner before me?” 

He paused for a moment before he jerked his head. 

“I had a girlfriend once, but she left me.” 

“Why?” 

“Some noble offered her his hand and well…I couldn’t compete.”

He sighed. 

“She was happy to keep me on as her side piece, but I’ve got too much of an ego to be someone’s toy.” 

Your eyebrows jumped at his candor, but you just hummed, plastering clean wraps to his skin so the wounds could heal. His skin was warm under your fingers, making the tips tingle. When you were done, you found yourself tipping forward on your toes to peck the back of his neck. When you’d realized what you’d done, your ears burned, and you coughed loudly. 

“Sorry, ah…sorry,” you muttered, unsure what to say. “You’re…ah…going to have to sleep on your stomach, so you don’t make these worse.” 

He swiveled around to look at you, smiling. 

“Thanks, doc!”

“I’m not a doctor.” 

He shrugged. 

“What’s the difference?” 

“Ten years of special-”

You shook your head, realizing he was teasing you.

“I think that’s enough wood for tonight. Come inside. Dinner’s almost ready.” 

He grinned at you, his stomach grumbling, as he scooped up some of the wood he’d cut and tucked it under one arm. You wondered how much they let him eat in prison, worried he was starving. 

“What’d my sweet little spouse cook for me?” he asked. 

“Just some sweet potato soup. It’s not gourmet.” 

He frowned. 

“No meat?” 

You blinked at him. 

“You have all the money I made today in your pocket. How can I afford meat with those few coins?” 

He nodded, appearing to be thinking through the problem thoroughly. 

When you returned inside, you dipped the two of you bowls of soup, filling his twice as much as yours. You assured yourself it was because he couldn’t work without proper nutrition, not because you liked him. 

“So how far does this magic thingie let me go?” he asked as you sat down at the table. 

“Why, trying to run off?” 

He smirked. 

“No, why would I want to run away from you?” 

He chewed on a big spoonful of sweet potatoes before he continued. 

“I’ve got a cute little spouse who makes me dinner and kisses my cuts.” 

Your cheeks blew up in flames, and you choked on a mouthful of soup. You tried to retain your composure by quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. 

“A couple of miles in any direction.” 

“Wow, didn’t think you’d give me such a long leash.” 

You shrugged. 

“I can’t be right at your side every minute.” 

He gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 

“You don’t want me by your side every minute of the day?” 

Unsure if he was joking or not, you jerked your spoon at his soup. 

“Let’s…stop talking for a while. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

While the two of you ate quietly, you did your best to keep your eyes on your bowl. Every time you happened to glance up, he was watching you with an odd smile on his face. Almost like satisfaction. 

You were relieved when you finally finished and could turn your back on him to rinse the dishes. 

“You can take the bed if you want,” you called over your shoulder as you stood on your tip toes to return the bowls to the cabinet. As your arm stretched, Saber appeared behind you, plucking the dishes out of your hand and easily placing them where they were supposed to go. 

“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, extending a hand to help you off of the little ladder you were perched on. 

“There’s a couch in the living room.” 

He wrinkled his nose. 

“It’s covered in stuff.” 

You shrugged, trying to hurry past him. 

“I’ll clean it up.”

You found your feet swinging in the air as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” 

“My spouse is not sleeping on the sofa. I never thought I’d have a spouse, so I’ve got to take proper care of you.” 

He patted your butt for emphasis. 

“Are you crazy?” you snapped, only not banging on his back with your fists because he was injured. “We can’t sleep together! We just met!” 

Your body bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. 

“You weren’t concerned with that when you insisted on marrying me!” 

“They were going to kill you!” 

He flopped you down on your bed, caging you in with his big arms. His head dipped to drag the tip of his nose along the length of your neck. 

“So you do like me!” he whispered into your skin. 

“I do not,” you huffed, pushing his chest.

Though your muscles did nothing to move him, he rose so you could scoot out across the bed. You quickly scrambled into the bathroom to change into your pajamas. 

When you came back out, Saber was slipping off his pants. 

“What are you doing now?” You gasped, cheeks heating at the sight of the thick shaft hanging between his legs.  

He glanced up, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his clothes. 

“I can't sleep in these prison clothes. I'll get the sheets all dirty!” 

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. He was right. He was filthy from sleeping on dirty straw in prison. 

“Come on,” you said, flicking two fingers at him. “You need a bath. You’re probably covered in fleas! 

Fortunately, your house came equipped with one large enough to fit Saber’s big body. With a flick of your fingers, the tub was filled, and with a few whispers of a spell, the water was hot. 

“Get in,” you said. 

Making himself comfortable, he looked back at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. 

“You tryin’ to watch? Naughty little elf!” 

You let out a long sigh. 

“No, I’m just going to ensure you don’t get your bandages wet, or it will all have been a waste. Supplies are expensive,” you huffed, picking up the sponge. “Now, sit still!”

Saber smirked but let you lift each of his arms as you scrubbed him. 

“So how did your old girlfriend take it when you decided you wouldn’t be your affair partner?”

He glanced at you, eyes ever thoughtful. His long look brought heat to your cheeks. 

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” 

He shrugged, his jaw tightening. 

“She was rather smug. She spent her whole life wishing to elevate herself.” 

A long sigh slipped past his lips. 

“I could never make her happy. I lied, cheated, stole; whatever I could do…but she looked down her nose at all of it.”

Your mouth fell open. 

“I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t have to…”

He waved a thick hand, his warm palm gently landing on your head and lightly ruffling your hair. 

“Think nothing of it. It’s kind of nice to get it off my chest.” 

“So that’s why you're a crook? To make her happy?”

He smirked. 

“I was a crook. Now I’m a married man. I can’t get into trouble. I have a spouse who relies on me.” 

He pinched your chin. 

“Prison was difficult enough without knowing I was missing out on such a cute little face. Now, it would crush me.” 

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you jerked your head away, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it to him. 

“Careful, don’t jostle your bandages,” you wheezed before making your escape. “Whoever lived here before left some clothes in the chest by the door. They ought to fit.” 

You were so busy slowing your beating heart that you blew out the lantern and slid into your bed without thinking Saber would soon follow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feign sleep, when you heard his heavy footsteps approach. He paused for a moment, doing Goddess knows what, before he carefully laid down next to you. 

The mattress dipped under his weight, and your body slid into his. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as your warm forms pressed together. 

“Mind your wounds. Make sure you sleep on your side,” you whispered into the darkness. 

You felt him adjust slightly, and then a heavy arm draped over your waist. Despite yourself, it was warm and the weight felt nice. Comforting. Now that he’d used your soap, he smelled like home. His breath brushed the hairs on your neck and another arm slid underneath you to use as a pillow. You would have pulled away, but you’d never slept so close to someone before. 

Living on the street for most of your life, left you with scars. You didn’t realize how deep they’d cut you until Saber’s large body curled around yours. You felt safe. 

When you woke the next morning, the bed next to you was empty. Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, wondering where he’d gone. Had it all been a dream? 

The pile of dirty prison clothes folded and placed on top of a chest proved that it had not. 

Breathing slowly, in the meditation you’d taught yourself, you stretched your awareness out, reaching for the blue thread. Saber was half a mile from you. You wondered what he could possibly be doing. 

“Orc things, probably,” you muttered, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

It wasn’t like he could run off; there was nothing in that direction but trees. Through the window, you could see the sun up over the tree line, telling you that you’d slept much later than usual. 

Usually, you’d have left at sunrise to sell your wares in the Capital market, but it was far too late now. Instead, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started fussing with your alchemy materials. Now that Saber was living with you, you were sure you needed to straighten up so he didn’t break something. 

Walking across the room, you automatically skipped around the bucket on the floor; only the bucket was gone. You frowned, but looking at the ceiling, someone had replaced one of the boards with a fresh one. Had Saber done that while you were sleeping? 

You huffed, returning to straightening your books. At least he’s putting himself to work. 

You were trying to remember the order in which a pair of books written in ancient elven were arranged alphabetically when the bell above your door jingled. 

Since your home was hidden with magic, the bell told you someone was nearby. It was a charm you rarely used. No one had any reason to look for you. The most it had rung was when you ordered a special cauldron or tomb and happened to have the cash to have it delivered. 

Curious if a traveler was lost, you put your books down and wandered outside. 

“Morning, spouse!” 

Saber’s voice made you jump when he appeared hauling a deer on his shoulders. 

“What’s that?” 

He shrugged the creature off of his shoulders. 

“Meat!” he announced proudly. 

You nodded at him, your eyes catching on his bare chest, glazed with a sheen of sweat. 

“Where are you off to?” he asked. 

“Someone is here,” you murmured, forcing your gaze from the sharp planes of his muscles to continue down the path. 

A shadow draped over you, and you glanced up to see him looming. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m going with you. It could be someone dangerous.” 

You shook your head but continued on your way with him in tow. 

“Helloooo? Helllloooo?” 

A female voice was screaming through the trees. When you rounded the bend, your eyes landed on an expensive carriage and a beautiful fairy shouting at the top of her lungs.  Her pink hair fell in glittering curls around her shoulders, and matching wings emerged from her back.

“Damn it! Saber! Where the fuck are you?” 

“Can I help you?” you asked as you stepped through your magic barrier. 

Her eyes narrowed, but not on you. She looked directly behind you. 

“Saber! There you are!” 

She grinned, fluttering her winds and flying past you. Irritation immediately pricked your heart as the woman threw her arms around him. Turning around, you found him looking at her with wide eyes. 

“Melody…what are you doing here? How did you find me?” 

“I’m here to see you, of course. I heard you were going to be hung, but an elf saved you! I asked around the market and was told you’d been taken here. I was so worried!” 

When she cupped his chin with her delicate hand, you crossed your arms, eyes narrowing. 

“Not someone. Me.” you interjected. 

You marched towards Saber and grabbed him by the arm. 

“Saber is my husband. Who are you?” 

She wrinkled her nose at you, ignoring your question. Her hand slid down Saber’s chest despite you. 

“Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?” 

Saber’s shocked face tightened. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate ask in front of my spouse, Melody.” 

She scoffed. 

“You’ve been married…what? 8 hours? Saber, I think I more than deserve a little of your time. Especially as the mother of your child.” 

Your jaw dropped, and your hand pulled away from Saber. It was true, you’d only known him for a few hours, but a child was something he ought to have mentioned. 

His brow drew, looking between you and her. 

“What child?” 

She huffed, frowning at you. 

“Fine…If you must do this, this way.” 

She turned to the carriage and yelled. 

“Nora, bring the baby!” 

A maid climbed out of the carriage holding a small whimpering bundle. You gasped as the woman presented Saber with a little green newborn. 

Saber’s eyes popped, his mouth opening and closing as the maid pressed the child into his hands. 

“This…he…is mine?” 

Melody nodded. 

“Yes, and it’s time for you to take responsibility.” 

He glanced up at her. 

“You want to get back together?” 

She let out a cruel but trilling laugh. 

“Oh heavens no. I need you to take him. Dante hasn’t seen him yet. He thinks I’ve delivered his child. I had the maids tell him I was recovering for the past month so I could sneak him out. If he finds out I’ve been carrying your baby this whole time, he’ll throw me out on the street!” 

Anger roiled under your skin. 

“So what baby are you going to present to him?” you demanded. 

She snorted as if that were a foolish question. 

“I’ll get a baby from the slums. Plenty of mothers would happily give their child the life of a Lord’s son without question.”

She fluttered her iridescent wings. 

“It only need be a fairy child.” 

You could see the pain and confusion settle on Saber’s face. Stepping between the two of them, you gently pried the bundle out of Saber’s hands, looking at his cute little button nose and glossy baby curls. 

“Of course, we will take him, but on one condition.” 

She glanced at you. 

“What do you want? Money?”

You let out a tight chuff. 

“No. We never want to see you again. If he is our baby, he is ours. Don’t think you can change your mind and come running back here looking for him or Saber. The second you step foot in your carriage, this child and my husband are dead to you.” 

Her eyes jerked to Saber. 

“Saber. You can’t mean that. Of course, I want to see you…Dante, however, can’t know. You understand, don't you? This is everything we've dreamed about! You ought to support me!"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I grew up in the gutter, too," you hissed. "But I'd never treat someone the way you have treated my husband. He is too good for you and I won't tolerate you buzzing around us like a nasty fly."

She glared at you.

"He's my child! You're just jealous Saber and I have history!"

Saber's jaw locked, and he put his arm around you, giving her a disgusted grimace. 

“Have you named him?” he asked. 

She looked contrite but lifted her chin. 

“I…ah…it didn’t occur to me...” 

He nodded and glanced down at you, holding his child. 

“Then…I agree with (Y/N). You’ll never know his name. You’ll never see him grow. You’ll never return to ruin our peace.” 

“But Saber-” 

“Don’t say my husband’s name, either.” you snapped. “You thought you’d come here and drop all of your responsibilities in his lap and then keep stringing him along as a toy? It’s not going to work like that. You have your family, and we have ours.” 

You jerked your chin at her. 

“Make your choice. Either leave the child or be prepared to explain to your husband who he belongs to. Those are the only options.”

Her pretty face contorted into an ugly, wrinkled mask, and she lifted her skirt to turn on her heels. 

“Fine! It’s not like I want the child of a thief anyway!”  

Snapping at her maid, she hovered back to her carriage, and they disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. You smiled down at the little baby, who’d managed to sleep through the drama. 

“Saber, I know I shouldn’t have spoken for you…I just- He deserves better than to grow up with the knowledge his mother believes him to be less than. Can you imagine him living as her secret? Sneaking around to hide him? If she passed him in the street, she’d ignore him to preserve her status. He’d be heartbroken. I won’t let that happen. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I’m not sorry for it.” 

He dropped to his knees, eyes wet, and pushed his head into your shoulder. His big arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight.

“You said just the right thing,” he murmured, then turned his head to look at his son. “What should we name him?” 

You smiled at him. 

“Let’s talk it over over lunch.” 

The two of you walked back down the path together, both having a hard time keeping your gaze off the baby. He wriggled in his sleep, making you both see hearts.

“Maybe we should move,” you murmured. “Just to be sure…and to give him a fresh start.” 

He looked down at you. 

“You won’t miss this place?” 

You sighed. 

“No…this is just a house. We have a family now. He should grow up in a happy little town, not the capital…we’ll have to save for a few months, but I think we can do it.” 

“We don’t have to save. I have plenty of money.” 

You froze in your tracks, looking up at him.

“What? I thought you said you were broke?” 

He smiled down at you. 

“I meant I didn't have any coin on me. I didn’t just piss all of my ill-gotten gains away. I hid them. Follow me.” 

He tugged the two of you into the forest, walking quite a ways until you reached an oddly placed rock. Saber crouched down and uprooted a bush with a stiff jerk. Then he cleared the soil away, revealing a wooden chest. He turned the little dial a few ways until it clicked, and the chest opened with a creak. Your eyes widened at the hundreds of gold coins piled inside. He casually tugged the gold he’d lifted from you out of his pocket and tossed it inside with a metallic clink. 

“I think we can buy a nice place with this.” 

You were still completely confused. He rummaged around in the coins, producing the gold necklace he’d stolen. Standing, he fastened it around your neck with the nimble fingers of a thief.

“I thought you lost it gambling?” 

He shrugged. 

“I lied.” 

“Why did you keep it?” 

He gave you a long look.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. Something told me not to sell it.” 

“But…what about the rest? I thought you gave it all to Melody?” 

“I tried to…we grew up in the capital, in the same slums she wants to buy a baby from. It wasn’t ever about what I could provide her. She wanted to erase her past. She wanted a title…to be a lady, to be able to lift her nose at the very people she grew up with.

I started saving after she failed at her first attempt at seducing some highborn. At the time, I had this romantic dream that I could surprise her with a big house, start a business, and be the Lord she wanted so badly…but… as time passed, I realized I was already tainted in her eyes. She wanted the right blood attached to her money. It took me too long to be ready to pull away. Dante was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.” 

He tugged the chest from the ground, hauling it onto his shoulder before leading you back through the forest.  

“Even though I knew I wasn’t enough…I foolishly still loved her. I was a mess when he proposed. That’s why I got caught. I went on a bender that lasted most of a year…Fortunately, I never touched this. Maybe I held out hope since Melody still entertained my attention…but I got sloppy and ended up in jail.” 

His gaze dropped to the baby. 

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn't have ever known about him. Anything could have happened to him if you hadn’t-”

He choked a bit, a couple of tears slipping down his cheek. You didn’t push him to finish his sentence. You knew what he was trying to say. 

“What about Arel?” you asked. 

“Arel? That sounds like an Elvin name.” 

You smiled at the little baby’s chubby cheeks. 

“It is…it means ‘treasure’.” 

He stopped, bending down to examine his son more closely. The baby’s eyes opened, and you saw that they were the same pretty chartreuse as his father’s. The two of them looked at one another in awe. 

“I like Arel,” he said, brushing a thick finger over his cheek. 

Arel’s big eyes grew wet, and he started to croon. 

Shock and worry bloomed on Saber’s face. 

“Is he okay?” 

“I think he’s hungry. I have some goat milk at home.” 

Saber straightened, and you had to almost jog to keep up with him, the two of you hurrying home to start your life as a family.

[fic-recs-by-mink]

╰﹒ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 !

┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗ 1K CELEBRATION ☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

CHOSEN DRABBLE: "He wakes up to the sight of you by his side, your gentle fingers inspecting the dressings on his wounds."

REQUESTED BY @sowlcat <3

W/C: 1.9K

Sighing softly, Simon entered his home that he shares with you. He sluggishly took off his muddied boots outside the door, knowing how you would scold him in the morning for putting them inside. Recalling your cute frustrated face looking at him as you cutely stomp on the ground to prove your point made him chuckle.

God, was he such a soft for you.

Fatigue washed over Simon as he stood at the door to his home. His eyes were filled with exhaustion after driving hours to see you. Suddenly, he caught himself on the wall with his hand plastered on it as if in a daze. He heaved a breath, slowly craning his neck up. He spotted the bloodied knuckles and scuffs that had marked his skin. His eyes filled with regret as he realized he would be left with scars. Nevertheless, he could not help but find comfort in the thought of coming home to you.

Closing his eyes as he felt deeply exhausted, Simon thought of you and how you would never hesitate to stay up for him. You would be there by his side to patch him up in the bathroom with a thoughtful look on your face. He didn't want to disturb you, realizing that you were still curled up in your sleep. He tiptoed his steps, careful not to make a sound as he walked toward the bedroom. You meant the world to him and the thought of waking you from your blissful slumber would never cross his mind.

"Maybe I should patch myself up first, Simon whispered to himself as he slowly eased open the door. He peeked inside, expecting to see you safely tucked away in his bed, all cozy and warm. But when the door was finally opened, he was greeted with a scene unlike any other. His heart seemed to melt as he laid his eyes on you, sleeping peacefully in his bed. All trace of exhaustion was lost as a soft grin formed on his face.

Completely sound asleep in his bed was undeniably you. Your legs spread out comfortably with a large pillow between, your arms cradling another pillow, and though he couldn't get to see a glimpse of your face, he can tell you were probably snoring the night away.

Gently shooking his head in amusement, Simon walked over to you and crouched in your side of the bed. Though he has dried blood on his hands, it didn't stop him from pushing your stray hair away from your face, careful as he does not want any of the dirt in your skin.

Leaning in to you, he softly kissed your forehead and for a moment, he closed his eyes in contentment, missing your presence from all the days he was away from you. Now he was here with you. "Love you," He whispered against your hair. "S'damn much."

Simon placed a peck on your cheek so softly like a feather's touch. He just wanted nothing else but to bury himself into the softness of the blankets and sleep in your arms. Grunting, he decided he had to freshen up first before he can join you on the bed that was looking comfy as ever.

Though, begrudgingly he stood up from his crouched position and sauntered over to the bathroom. Finally entering the shower after removing his clothes, he visibly relaxed when the lukewarm water hit his tensed muscles. It felt so good that he stood under the shower head for awhile, letting the warm water massage his sore body.

After showering, he wrapped a towel around his body and let the warm steam from the bathroom envelop him. Now feeling quite better, he approached the vanity box and grabbed the tools he needed to patch himself. Bandages, gauzes, scissors, and some antiseptic liquid were all laid out infront of him.

Simon sat at the bathroom counter and carefully tended to the various wounds he had on his body, bandaging and covering them as needed. He worked with care, ensuring that each wound was properly cleaned, dressed, and protected. Despite the pain and discomfort he felt, Simon remained focused and determined, refusing to let his injuries hold him back.

After applying the last bandage, Simon made his way to the bedroom, careful not to disturb his wounds any further. He climbed into bed beside you, settling in for a long overdue night of rest. He gently wrapped his arms around you as he spoons you from behind.

With your comforting presence at his side, Simon finally allowed himself to let go of the tension and stress that had been weighing on him for so long. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, feeling a sense of peace and comfort in your arms.

—

Simon stirred awake from the soft voice calling out his name, the soft caress of the you fingertips waking him from his slumber. He have yet to open his eyes but still, he can fell himself lying in your arms.

You didn't say anything, your eyes were filled with a hint of sadness and concern as you continued lightly caressing the bandages and gauzes on your lover's body. You woke up quite early as you expected, but it was because of the heavy yet familiar feeling of an arm enclosing your waist.

You had excitedly opened your eyes and turned to your other side to face your now sleeping Simon. You carressed his cheeks as you feel yourself getting emotional. Simon is home. You softly left pecks of your kisses in his chest, each of them filled with love and appreciation.

He could feel how much love that were pouring out of you all over again, it made his heart burst out from so much affection that he thinks were undeserving to him. He felt his arm getting slowly grabbed at and a low coo of concern coming out of you.

Simon was confused on why you had such a reaction. But then it clicks on him. The gauzes. The bandages. He was about to recoil from your touch as to hide his ugly arms away from you to see, but the feeling of a tender caress made him stop.

"Sweet thing," You whispered, your voice soft with concern as you pressed gentle kisses to Simon's wrapped wounds, your lips lingering over each bruise and cut you saw peeping out from the bandages. "You don't deserve anything like these..."

As Simon basked in the comfort and warmth of your loving touches, emotions rushed through. He wanted to let himself cry. He knew that the kisses would not heal his wounds instantly, but the gesture meant more to him than words could say.

The feelings of love and caring that surrounded him were almost too much to bear, and he could feel the tears welling up in his closed eyes. It had been such a long time since someone had cared for him in such a way, and now, as he was gently kissed and nurtured, he felt that he could finally let go of the pain. But even as the tears threatened to fall, he tried to stifle them, afraid of breaking the calmness that had enveloped him.

As you turned to Simon, your thumbs still gently carressing his bandaged hands, you were surprised to see that he was awake. You stopped what you were doing momentarily, letting the silence fill the room.

"Hi," You cheekily whispered to him, a smile gracing your lips as your heart swells with love for the man in front of you. He's just woken up, but even the fatigue in his eyes can't erase the warmth and affection that shines through when he looks at you.

"G'morning, lovie," Simon greets as he grew more soft towards you. The tired lines on his face soften as he takes you in, and you can't help but feel grateful for each moment you get to share with him. He brought up his hands and pulled you closer to him.

As your face was against his chest, the smell of him filled your nostrils with every breath, like a comforting embrace. You felt his heartbeat pounding beneath your ear. There was a comfort in his warm presence, a sense of safety that you could never find anywhere else. He was your home.

"Thank you," Simon muttered as his arms wrapped around you even firmer as if you would flee away if he didn't. His grip held you closely, as if he was afraid to let go and lose you to the world outside. He put his chin on top of your head and inhaled deeply, drawing comfort and reassurance from your presence. There was nowhere else he wanted to be, but right here with you.

Confused, you softly asked, your voice muffled against the small space between your face and his chest, "For what?"

Simon's heart skipped a beat when he heard your voice. He couldn't believe how cute you sounded when you spoke in that sweet, whisper-soft tone.

"For this?" he murmured, tightening his embrace around you and pulling you even closer, reveling in your warm, intoxicating scent. His voice was low, almost too low for you to hear over the beating of your hearts.

You pulled away from his embrace gently and put your hands on his cheeks. He looked up at you with a sweet smile and you couldn't help but return it.

"Of course," you murmur, pulling him even closer. Showering him with affection is just a normal, natural thing for you to do, especially when he is injured. "I'll take care of you, my love. Always."

And though it's so, so hard for him to admit, he's soft when it comes to you. He's always known that you take care of him, that's your role, but today he can't shake the feeling that it's not quite so simple. He tries to say no, tries to put up some resistance to your tender, gentle caresses, but the resolve is gone before it even arrives at his throat. He submits to you, like he always has and always will, as a contented smile plays across his lips.

"I will always be here for you, Simon", you continued softly as you stroke his hair. You want to make him feel taken care of, loved and protected, and it melts your heart seeing his relief as he buries his head into your chest. You know this is where he belongs, and you both feel at peace.

Your touch brings him comfort and peace, and you can feel the tension and worry easing away from his body. He leans against you and lets out a deep sigh, his muscles completely relaxed. In this moment, there is nothing else that matters. Just you and him.

Simon presses his face against your chest one last time, breathing in your scent and feeling your heart beating steadily beneath your skin, and he is at perfect peace. The two of you are finally home, together in each other's arms, and nothing will ever come between you.

A/N: ty bby for requesting this ! this ws so cute to write omg

[fic-recs-by-mink]

I stole Ghost's jacket hehehe

Yeah so, fun fact, all the canon clothes that CoD characters wear are actually based on real-life outfits. I know people expect that for their equipment, but they use real clothing brands too. Anyway all this to say that I found the brand of navy combat jacket that Ghost wears in his MWII 'Nightwar' outfit and bought it. And??? It's legit super comfy??? It's somehow both breathable and warm??? So yeah I stole his jacket <3

[fic-recs-by-mink]

Guess What I Found At The Grocery Storeeeeeeee 💚☠️💚

[fic-recs-by-mink]

for all of us who can't bear to read anything but CoD fanfiction (due to the 141's fat tits) do you have any all-time favs?

Such an awful, sick affliction. I made one of these lists a while back but couldn't find it so you’re in luck because I have plenty of favorites and I’m happy to share them (in no particular order. I KNOW I'm forgetting at least ten fics I've read and loved but I have a goldfish brain today, forgive me):

And please, read the tags/warnings. Your consumption is your own responsibility.

Neon Medusa Too sweet not to share Ghost and Red Fox Alford plea The Willow Maid Exfiltration The Arrangement Civilian Asset See no evil Squeeze me I squeak MildLimerence Mine & Yours Saltwater Metanoia to you I can admit (that I'm too soft for all of it) white flag blood on my shirt, rose in my hand totally platonic Surviving you imprimatura Dog all that's said in the lowlight birdsongs or advice and symphonies for your children Happiness songs that sound like sea foam down to the marrow roommate gaz Chink in the Armour Man-sized Hummingbird don't leave me locked in your heart Listening In Situationship-verse The Scottish Cabin in the Woods

Please leave your own recs here too! It's nice to share the love, and I don't have a lot of time to find new fics, but am always wanting to read them haha. Please recommend things to me! Bonus points if you're recommending your own fics

[fic-recs-by-mink]

I NEED A SIMONxMEDIC!READER STORY BRUH LIKE THEY ARE LITERALLY THE HOTTEST SITUATIONSHIP STORIES ESPECIALLY WHEN READER ISNT SCARED OF HIM

GAH! BECAUSE I TOTALLY AGREE WITH YOU, ANON!!!! I DOO!!!! (gn!reader)

simon with a medic reader is a relationship he begins to really open up to. because he trusts his life in your hands, in your team's hands in general, but as he got to know more about you? nobody else he'd rather prefer. with all your fussing over him, he finds it endearing instead of you scampering off and making someone else do it.

finds it funny that you deadpanned him in the face when you told him nothing scares you more than having a bunch of soldiers coming up to you with a case of food poisoning. like a lot of them. because you know the bathrooms are going to be a mess that you're going to have to deal with. and you're not ready for all that shit, literally.

the first time he grows fond of you is probably when you bonk him on the head with a clipboard when he told you he was fine after not telling you anything about his most recent injury from when he cut his leg from a smashed window.

simon probably tells you some of those blunt army jokes while you patch him up, because he likes to see your reactions to them. he can be found smiling under that mask if he manages to make you laugh. likes to say "oh, you liked that one, doc? how about this?" and proceeds to tell you another lame joke about how a brick is bad for your teeth. he tells you regardless of whether or not you want to hear them. it all started because he hated how stressed you looked whenever he came in, how you'd become more frantic when you found a new gash right after stitching up another. so he decided to take your mind off it by attempting to make you laugh. key word: attempt.

he probably starts denying all care unless it's yours. pretends like it's not his fault for scaring someone off or downplaying his injury so much that they leave him be until you come around like "what are you doing here, riley?" and he shows you his shoulder where he has a whole bullet grazing lmfao. it's never serious enough that he'd be at risk for putting off care, but it doesn't stop you from threatening to give him a whole new injury for his rashness. but hey, if it means you'll still be the one caring for him then he won't complain. sometimes even makes things up just to pop in and visit you. likes to say he sprained his finger and asks if you can kiss it better. the ONE time you did to humor him, he basically melted and let nothing touch that finger for hours so he wouldn't "contaminate" your kiss. wouldn't tell anyone why he was shooting with his middle finger instead and that was the reason why his range practice was so terrible.

if for any reason you're needed on the field, even for med evac, he becomes very protective over you. knows that you're surrounded by capable soldiers and you'll be safe, but he would prefer it if you were under his supervision instead. keeps himself by your side as often as possible and delegates orders to others so you can work without any obstacles. he makes sure your path is always safe and clear.

and simon who gets a little huffy if other soldiers are under your care and you're smiling and laughing with them too. once dislocated soap's shoulder in a sparring match because soap was playfully flirting with you. and then it made him distraught that it was timed right when you were walking by off duty and decided to go fix soap yourself. simon doesn't even realize how jealous and possessive he becomes when it comes to you. how fond he's grown of you.

[fic-recs-by-mink]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

[fic-recs-by-mink]

wallpaper

summary: bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 1000

warnings: fluff, nonspecific friends to lovers, this was just a dumb idea i had

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The first time Bucky changed the wallpaper on your phone, it was an accident - kind of. He sat on your couch, lazily scrolling through the photos of Alpine you insisted he looked at, because you simply couldn’t resist having a Halloween photoshoot with her while he was off on yet another mission, leaving her in your trusting hands. He was happy you were in the kitchen, because he would never let you see the smile he wore as he browsed the album, chuckling silently to himself over how elaborate these photos were. His mood swiftly changed when he swiped incorrectly, an array of different options suddenly presenting themselves to him. He swore under his breath as he tried to make them go away, but he only made it worse as the option to change your wallpaper came up. With an annoyed huff, he just kept tapping, figuring that eventually he would get it back to how it was. After a few more grueling seconds, he sighed in relief as he was once more face to face with Alpine sitting inside a jack-o-lantern candy bucket - how was he supposed to know that photo was now both your lockscreen and homescreen?

“Did you change my lockscreen?” you curiously asked when you finally sat back down beside him, taking your phone and checking it for any new messages.

“Did I what?” he asked in confusion, his head snapping up from his own phone to look at you with a scrunched brow. 

You could only laugh lightly, turning your phone to display the new photo brandishing your screen. The second Bucky saw it, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly as his face flushed ever so slightly. 

“I, uh- sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to, your phone is just - it’s different than mine.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle fondly, your chuckles growing into more laughter as you realized it was also your homescreen. “It’s okay, Buck,” you assured softly, laughing quietly as you changed the photos back to their precursors. “It could have been worse, at least it’s not an embarrassing photo or something.” 

You were too busy fixing his mistake to notice the glint that sparkled in his eyes, a smirk growing on his face as your words gave him the most incredible idea he’s had in a while. 

The second time Bucky changed your wallpaper, it was very much not an accident. You left him your phone so he could look at the photos you took on your latest trip, unpacking your bags as he split his attention between listening to your stories and scrolling through a seemingly endless array of new pictures - which he truthfully enjoyed, but he was on a secret mission for the perfect, nondescript one to choose. 

“Again, Buck?” you giggled, flopping on the bed beside him as you took your phone back. 

“What?” he asked, just innocent and clueless enough to not raise any flags. 

“You and your fat thumbs, I swear,” you mumbled under your breath, changing the photos back once more, completely oblivious to his proud little smirk.

It took three more times for you to suspect that Bucky had started doing it on purpose, but your suspicions weren’t proven correct until he took a photo of you to display.

“Did you- when- really?” you stammered as you looked between him and your phone, half annoyed and half impressed because when did he even take this photo? 

He only grinned in response, laughing about how long he was able to do it under the pretense of it being an accident before running away in a fit of giggles, dodging the pillow you threw after him.

From that moment on, it became a game for him. 

Any opportunity that presented itself, Bucky snatched your phone and changed your displays to the most embarrassing and ridiculous photos of yourself.

A sunset was changed to you mid-sneeze. Alpine was changed to you post-nap. You partying with the gang was changed to an extreme close up of your face in that very photo. Louisiana docks were changed to you mid rant as you yelled at him to give you your phone back. A cherry blossom was changed to you passed out on the couch, wrapped up in a hoodie you stole from him and drooling all over the sleeve of it. 

As time went on, you stopped being surprised whenever it happened, and you grew to enjoy it. It was a silly thing, but it was a silly thing that only you and Bucky shared. It was a special thing, a cherished thing. It was your favourite thing.

Neither of you realized how the dynamic between the two of you started morphing into something else right in front of your very eyes. It was slow. It was gradual and complex and delicate and went unnoticed for almost a whole year. 

It was only noticed now, as Bucky took the opportunity to grab your phone as you slept soundly against his chest. It had been a while since he was able to get a chance to do this, and so he eagerly unlocked your phone, already running through different ideas of what picture to use. 

He was caught off guard when the picture staring back at him was from a few weeks ago. It was the day you finally convinced him to let you drive his bike after months of endless asking. It was a photo neither of you knew Sam took until later that night, when he sent it to both of you. 

It was you, sat in front of him on the bike and wrapped up in his arms, one securely planted on either side of you as his hands rested on yours, guiding you through everything as you both gleefully laughed at the fact that you actually managed to convince him to do this. 

For once, Bucky didn’t have the heart to change it. 

He couldn’t. 

It was his wallpaper, too. 

[fic-recs-by-mink]

Big orc with a small mate who is just so small and fragile they just cry sometimes scared they'll hurt them

This is a little on the darker side, but I hope it is a bit of schadenfreude.

General Plot: You meet and befriend an orc who has a penchant for finding tall bridges.

Orc (Orion) x female reader

also, just a note, when I say "small" in this I'm saying as compared to an orc, not any particular body size or shape

Word Count: just under 3k

W: as brief as i could while still getting the message across descriptions of sa and suicide, otherwise sfw soft yandere behavior

“Damn,” Orion’s friend and coworker Joss whistled, peering across the shitty dive bar they were posted in, “don’t think I’ve seen a prettier sight in my life.” 

Orion’s eyes flickered from his drink to where Joss was looking, a table of women, your heads huddled together as you worked on your answers for the trivia game you were playing. 

“I got it!” you shouted at the guy running the game, “the answer is Oregon!” 

Orion gulped on his drink and it went down like a lump of lead in his stomach. You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in his life, your eyes glowing and your cheeks warm from smiling. The women around you were all beautiful in different ways, but his eyes focused on you and he couldn’t look away. You were so small. It almost made his eyes prickle as he considered how you could possibly survive in this world being so delicate. 

As a mercenary Orion knew the darkest dregs of the world. He’d seen pretty, innocent things like you broken and bloody in the snow when his team had arrived too late. It broke his heart every time and looking at you…something in him was moved. 

“Let’s buy the ladies some drinks,” Joss grinned, already turning to the bartender to organize a pitcher of margaritas for your table. 

You glanced up at the waiter as he carried an armful of drinks over to you and your friends. You’d never done trivia before and you didn’t go to bars, but they’d convinced you to get out of the house for once and join them. So far it had been fun, though as the waiter spread the drinks out in front of you and your friends you frowned.

“No thanks,” you said politely, pushing the glass back across the table when he got to you, “don’t drink.” 

The waiter smiled, scooping up the cup before gesturing to the two orcs sitting at the bar. 

“Compliments of the gentlemen,” he explained and the rest of your friends raised their drinks and smiled at the handsome orcs. 

They were obviously military of some kind. You could tell not because they were dressed in fatigues, but because the hair that was traditionally worn longs for orcs was instead cropped close to their heads. 

The larger one seemed to be looking at you and you held up your soda and tipped it at him with a friendly smile, before turning your attention back to the game. For some reason you didn’t want him to think you didn’t appreciate his attempt at a gift, but this was why you didn’t go to bars. Everyone was trying to ply everyone else into sex with alcohol. It just wasn’t your scene anymore. You didn’t do hookups and you didn’t drink, so…what was the point? Trivia, was your best friend's answer. 

“I’ve got the brunette with the curls,” Joss said to Orion as he smirked at your table. 

Your friends were eating up the orcs' attention, casting them wily smiles and flipping their hair. You didn’t blame them. They were good looking, with large, shining tusks and bodies any human body builder would kill for. The larger one had an arm full of tattoos peeking out from the tight black shirt he was wearing. 

For your part, you huddled down into the hoodie you were wearing and took a sip of your soda. It wasn’t like the orcs were flirting with you anyway. They were probably looking at Emily, who had long blonde hair, or Tina, who had dark flawless skin and tight, shining curls.

You didn’t notice Orion’s gaze focusing solely on you. 

“She doesn’t like margaritas?” he asked the bartender, nervously, when he returned with your empty glass. 

“Doesn’t drink,” he murmured, already moving on to his next customer. 

That comforted him a little. At least you weren’t going to be wandering drunk through the streets on your way home, but the idea of you walking home all by yourself bit at him. Orion was feeling things he’d never felt before and he didn’t even know your name. 

He was a mercenary. He wasn’t a kind, warm orc; never had been. He was good at killing. Very, very good at killing and that’s what his life consisted of, death, blood, and lonely cold nights camping out waiting for orders. 

He had his fun with girls he ran into in the odd cities he found himself in. They had a way of finding military men with money, but he’d never had a girlfriend or any sort of real connection. He’d never expected to live long enough for it to matter…but there you were. You weren’t all made up like the other girls, dressed in a bulky hoodie that swallowed you, with your hair brushed away from your face. Yet, you were the most beautiful one sitting there, chewing your lip and wrinkling your brow as you tried to think up answers. 

“Come on,” Joss said to him, throwing back the rest of his beer, “I think the game is ending.” 

The winners were announced (not your team) and you were trying to figure out how to slide past your drunk friends to escape home when the orcs approached your table. 

“Evening ladies,” the shorter one said, flexing his biceps as he scraped his thick fingertips through his short hair to the delight of your friends. 

“Excuse me,” you murmured, wiggling past your starry eyed friends and almost completely ignoring the orcs. 

You bid them all goodnight, but they are busy batting their eyelashes and circling their fingers around the mouths of their glasses. Best leave them to it, you thought as you made your way to the front door, not noticing the taller orc abandoning his friend to follow you out.

Orion didn’t have a plan. He’d never stalked a woman before, but there he was, using his combat skills to make his huge form disappear in the urban environment.  

He got more and more uneasy as you left the nice part of town and turned on to a dark street. A siren blared, startling him for a second as a cop car flew past and he almost lost track of you before he caught sight of you again fidgeting with the loop of keys in your hand and stuffing one into the door of the first floor apartment you lived in. 

Orion frowned, sneaking as quietly as he could up to your side window. Your home was incredibly insecure, he noted. With his strength he could easily pop the rusted bars over your windows out to get to you and your door was a laughable piece of plywood. 

His eyes watered again imagining your pretty face twisted in fear from some unknown attacker. He had to stop for a moment to take a breath and gather himself. Feelings he’d never felt before were bubbling up in his stomach like a witch’s cauldron, but standing outside of your house like a creeper, he had no idea how to approach you. 

He ended up keeping vigil outside of your house all night and woke from a shallow doze when you started moving around inside. Peeking through your window he could see you smoothing your hair dressed only in your panties and a little t-shirt that rode up on your waist. Compared to him, you were just so incredibly small! It still confounded him that you could survive in this awful neighborhood and not be harassed daily. 

Since it was the weekend and you weren’t hung over like your friends, you went about your morning routine and donned your usual hoodie to hit up your favorite coffee shop. An iced latte was the perfect way to start a Saturday. 

In the light of day, Orion hung back as he followed you down the street, waiting a few moments before he entered the coffee shop after you. 

The shop was busy, but there was a loveseat open and after getting your latte you took a seat on one side to drink it. 

“Mind if I sit here?” Orion asked, after he’d gotten his own coffee. 

You smiled up at his looming figure and scooted a bit to the side so there was plenty of room for him. 

“You look familiar,” you mentioned, making light conversation as you sipped your drink. 

The orc gave you a small smile. 

“Name's Orion,” he said, pleased to have a reason to talk to you, “I think I saw you last night at the bar…you were with your friends…but you don’t drink…” 

You giggled. 

“Oh yeah, they dragged me out to that,” you said with a grin, “they think I’m a hopeless homebody because I don’t like to get drunk. I’m (Y/N).” 

He smiled back at you, taking in your pretty twinkling eyes and soft looking skin. He had to hold back his tears as he looked down at you, so little in the seat next to him and tucked cutely in your big hoodie. He wondered what you would look like dressed in his t-shirt and wondered how he could possibly hold you without hurting you with his big hands.  

“That’s not a bad quality to h-” he started to say, but was interrupted by a slightly nasally voice trying to get your attention. 

You winced as you looked up to find one of the last people you wanted to see and part of the reason you didn’t drink hanging over you. Dane, a man you’d met once at a bar was holding a coffee with his other hand stuck in his pocket. 

“(Y/N)!” he said grinning, “Great to see you! I’m surprised I didn’t hear from you after all the fun we had last time…did I put my number in your phone wrong or something?” 

He reached down to snatch your phone out of your hand, as if he were going to check it. 

You winced and shrank back. 

The reason you didn’t drink was the last time you went to a bar you might have had a bit too much and Dane offered to take you home. Though his idea of “take you home” meant assault you while you were too drunk to fight back and then leave you crying on your couch with a text in the morning that said, “had fun last night, can’t wait to do it again.” 

Of course, you hadn’t told anyone as you probably should have. You were too embarrassed and ashamed, so instead you tried to shake the experience away and swore to yourself you’d never drink again. 

To your surprise, however, before Dane could reach your phone, Orion’s hand intercepted his. He could see by looking at you, you were uncomfortable and though he couldn’t possibly have known what happened, he didn’t like the man. 

“Hi,” he said, scooping up Dane’s hand into a tight handshake, “I’m (Y/N)’s boyfriend Orion, I don’t think we’ve met before.” 

Dane sneered and looked Orion up and down. The look on his face said he didn’t take the orc seriously. 

“Boyfriend?” he laughed, “that must be new…(Y/N) and I had a good time just a couple of weeks ago, didn’t we?” 

He turned his attention to you, but your eyes were filling with tears, stressed and embarrassed that he would even say something like that after what he did. You would not describe it as “a good time.” Orion growled and squeezed Dane’s hand until the bones popped, wiping the smile from his face. 

“What the fuck are you doing?! You’re going to break my hand!” Dane howled, causing the whole restaurant to look at the scene he was causing. 

Fire flooded your cheeks and you tried to make an escape, pushing past Orion, but in another surprising move, he dropped Dane’s hand and put his arm around you. In any other circumstance, you would have been a little frightened, but at that moment a warm hug was just what you needed and you leaned into him without thinking. 

“Let’s get out of here, (Y/N),” he said, giving you a gentle smile, before giving Dane a pointed look, “this place is starting to smell like trash.” 

He hustled you out of the building and led you to a small park where there were some cozy benches tucked amongst the trees. Spaced out from your encounter, you let his strength lead you without a fuss. 

He sat you down and you just sat in silence for a few minutes coming back to your senses. Orion had seen enough victims of assault in his line of work to know what the look on your face meant, so he gave you a little space to collect yourself before speaking. 

“You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to…but I’m a good listener if you do,” he said quietly, brushing a loose hair out of your face. 

You looked so small and helpless in front of him and he focused all of his will into not scooping you up and carrying you off, keeping you locked up so tight no one could ever get to you again. He could snap you like a twig with just a flick of his wrist, no wonder some horrible man thought he could take advantage of you. 

Without meaning to you let out a sob and the whole story came spilling out. It took all of Orion’s mental fortitude not to respond with anger. That wasn’t what you needed right then. Instead, he pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin and rubbed soothing circles on your back while you cried. 

Despite his fear of smooshing you, he managed to squeeze you just gently enough to reassure you without hurting you.

“This wasn’t your fault,” he said, realizing why you didn’t drink, “men can be disgusting. No one should take advantage of someone while they are intoxicated…it’s just sick.” 

After you’d had a good cry, you exchanged numbers and Orion walked you home promising you everything would be okay. Even though you weren’t sure you quite believed him, something about him felt safe so you let yourself feel comforted and spent the rest of the day resting in your pajamas trying to keep your mind off of it. 

That only worked for a day, because the next morning as you were flipping channels you saw a familiar face on the television. It was Orion. He was being interviewed by a news reporter. You hurriedly turned the volume up to hear what he was saying. 

“I saw him climbing the railing,” he said evenly into the microphone the reporter had shoved in his face, “but I was just too late…I couldn’t get to him in time to save him.” 

His face was oddly blank considering the warmth he’d shown you the previous day. The camera centered back on the reporter. 

“Depression has taken yet another victim here on the St. Anne’s bridge. It seems the security cameras on the bridge were not functioning when the event occurred, so there is no video record. Officials are promising to put more cameras and safety measures in place to stop tragedies like this from occurring. If you are experiencing thoughts of harming yourself please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline. Simply dial 988. Dane Andrews will be remembered as a…” 

You muted the television and blinked as images of the man who assaulted you flashed on screen. Dane is dead. You didn’t want to celebrate someone’s death but for some reason it put you at ease. You’d never accidentally run into him again. He’d never have another opportunity to taunt you. You couldn’t erase what had happened but it felt like you’d gained some closure. You were so focused on that, you didn’t even consider that it was a bit odd Orion was the last person to have seen him before he jumped off of the bridge. 

You hurriedly pulled out your phone and texted him. 

I saw you on the news…want to come over? 

It was only a few minutes before he responded. 

Be there in ten. 

You quickly put on some proper pants and brewed a pot of coffee while you waited for him to knock on the door. When it finally came you found yourself smoothing your hair and glancing in the mirror before answering it. For some reason you wanted to look some kind of way when he saw you. 

You opened the door to the Orion you remembered, not the cold emotionless one on TV. He gave you a big smile and to your surprise he had a bouquet of peonies in his hands. 

“For you,” he said, holding them out to you. 

Despite the somber mood of the morning, you smiled back, letting him inside and hurrying to the kitchen to find a vase for the pretty pink flowers. 

“It’s crazy what happened to Dane,” you said as you poured him a cup of coffee, “I guess even people like him have their own inner demons.” 

“Mmm,” Orion said, noncommittally as he sat at your kitchen table and took a sip, “I hope you feel a bit safer…” 

His eyes followed you as you got a cup and poured yourself some coffee. Of course, he had no intention of telling you, Dane did not kill himself. He had thrown Dane off the bridge after making sure he regretted ever laying a finger on you. He knew just what to do to make it look like the damage had been caused by his body banging on the rocks under the bridge, not Orion’s fists. 

You sighed. 

“You know I feel a little bad for saying this, but I really do feel safer,” you admitted, your gaze meeting his gold irises. 

He smiled. 

“Good,” he said, “you deserve to feel safe. Nothing like that is ever going to happen to you again.” 

Sitting down next to him at the table you fiddled with the handle of your mug. 

“You can’t be sure of that,” you murmured into your coffee, “things happen all the time.” 

He pulled your chin up to look at him, cupping your cheek gently. He knew he would have to be gentle with you always and he looked forward to holding you even closer.  

“While I’m around they won’t happen to you,” he stated.

You had no idea why, but for some reason you believed him. Your cheeks flushed just a little and your heart fluttered. 

“D-do you plan on sticking around?” you asked quietly. 

“I don’t ever plan on leaving you,” he said and you swallowed thickly.  

If it were anyone else those words would have been frightening, but Orion had cast some kind of magic spell on you with his kindness and you only felt safe and seen. 

You raised your much smaller hand to place it on his larger one against your cheek and looked up at him. 

“I think I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 

[fic-recs-by-mink]

I really liked Orion and was wondering if you could write about him kidnapping reader.

(Sfw please)

I've been wanting to do something soft 🥹

Orc (Orion) x fem reader

Word Count: 3k

W: kidnapping, some creepy behavior, light violence, and some kissing, sfw fluff

Find the previous part here

You stretched your shoulders as you glanced at the clock on the wall. It was finally 6 and time to head home from your job as a dental assistant. It had been a long day of coaxing little kids to open their mouths for X-rays and calming the poor children that hated the dentist, but you had some leftover Chinese food in the fridge that you were in a hurry to get home and devour. Unless, of course, you got your usual visitor. 

“Hey, (Y/N), I saw you walking home from work the other day,” your boss and one of the pediatric dentists, Aaron, mentioned as the two of you collected your things. “I can give you a ride home if you want.” 

Aaron seemed like a nice guy, but you didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness. 

“I’m okay,” you said. “I walk home everyday. It’s good for my health.” 

He frowned, seeming put out at your refusal. 

“Come on, let me drive you,” he pushed. “It’s dangerous for you to walk alone in the evening. I’d feel terrible if something happened to you.” 

You gave him a smile and waved away his concerns. 

“Really, I’m fine,” you said, but Aaron wasn’t happy with that answer. 

“There have been a string of muggings on your street,” he insisted. “Come on, let me give you a ride. I’m just concerned about your safety.” 

You were sure you didn’t need a ride, but Aaron seemed insistent and you didn’t want to sour your work relationship by appearing ungrateful for his friendly concern. 

“Okay,” you finally agreed, exhausted from a long day and not feeling like fighting with him. 

He brightened up at that and seemed giddy to lead you to his car. 

Aaron drove an expensive sports car, which he was eager to show off. 

“What do you think?” he asked you, demonstrating the heated seats and dynamic driving features. 

You had absolutely no interest in cars, so you just nodded politely until he was done and pulled out of the parking lot. He put on some music and you leaned back into the comfortable seat, trying to enjoy the ride. It was nice to be off of your feet after a long day’s work, even though you felt uneasy sitting next to Aaron. You rested your eyes for just a moment but when you opened them, it seemed like Aaron wasn’t going in the direction of your house. 

“I think you’re going the wrong way,” you informed him and he gave you an easy smile. 

“I know,” he said. “I figured you’d be hungry so I’m taking us to one of my favorite spots.” 

You frowned, not sure what to say. 

“I really can’t afford to eat out, Aaron,” you said, trying to figure out how to politely turn him down. “I have some leftovers at home…” 

He shook your concerns away. 

“Don’t worry about it. Dinner’s on me,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to have some time alone with you so we can really talk. We work together, but I feel like I hardly know you.” 

His words made your stomach twist. He wanted to have time alone with you? Aaron was good-looking enough, he had blonde hair, blue eyes, and was quite tall, but you weren’t interested in getting to know him beyond casual chatter around the office. 

“You really don’t have to do this,” you tried to argue, but he wasn’t listening, instead tapping the steering wheel with his fingers and humming along to the song on the radio. 

While your thoughts churned over how to get him to take you home, your phone buzzed. 

Where are you? 

It was your friend Orion. Since you’d met him out with your friends one night, he’d been coming by a lot. Instead of going out on another tour with the mercenary group he had worked for, he took a private security job in the city and often stopped by your house for coffee or meals. 

You had a huge crush on him. Who wouldn’t? He was enormous, with verdant skin and an arm full of sexy tattoos. His face was the picture of rugged masculinity. His jaw had sharp planes and his tusks were white and shiny.  Since he wasn’t with the merc group anymore, he’d let his hair grow out a little longer and it was always messy in a way that gave you post-sex hair vibes. You weren’t a particularly good flirt, but you tried your best to show him you were interested with little touches here and there. 

It was hard to tell how he felt about you. He was very protective, but he wasn’t pushy like other guys you’d been with. Every time he came over he was incredibly polite. You’d watch movies together or make him dinner, but he never tried to kiss you or touch you more than casually. You were desperate for his kiss, but too shy to make a move. What if he just wanted to be friends? It would be humiliating. Plus he wouldn’t come over anymore if you made things weird and you didn’t want that. You’d gotten used to having dinner with him at least three times a week if he wasn’t working. You’d even started stocking extra food because he ate a lot. 

My boss is taking me to dinner. 

He didn’t answer right away, instead, you watched the dots showing he was typing flash for a few moments before he finally responded.

Where? 

You glanced up at Aaron to find him looking at you. 

“Who’s that?” he asked, his thin lips curving into a frown. 

“Oh, just a friend,” you replied. “So where are you taking me? I’m starving.” 

He seemed pleased you were interested in where you were going and brightened up. 

“The Whisk and Ladle,” he said. “It’s a great place. You’ll love it.” 

You balked when he said the name. 

“Aaron, that’s expensive!” you gasped. “I’m not really dressed for-” 

You were still wearing the scrubs you wore to work, printed with little mice wearing sunglasses. You were dressed to work with children, not go to a five-star restaurant. Again, he waved your concerns away. 

“Nonsense,” he said. “You always look beautiful. Let me treat you.” 

You nodded, quietly, feeling more and more uncomfortable the closer you got to the restaurant. If you’d have been a tougher woman, you’d have made a fuss, demanded he take you home or jump out of the car, but you were worried about losing your job. Money was tight and you didn’t have any savings to float you until you found something else. You needed to make Aaron happy so he wouldn’t find some excuse to get rid of you. 

After a few minutes, you texted Orion the name. Some little part of you wished he would come to save you from what was about to be an extremely awkward dinner, but you were sure he’d never do that. From what you knew of him, he was strong but an extremely measured orc. You never saw him upset or out of control. 

When you arrived, Aaron was sure to help you out of the car, and as you walked inside he had his hand on your lower back until it slipped down to cup your bottom. Instinctively you took a step away, but he didn’t seem to notice as he spoke with the hostess. Weirdly, he had a reservation, as if he’d planned this date long before he offered to give you a ride home. 

You were seated at a pretty table with a white tablecloth and a small centerpiece of roses, which was very pretty but entirely too formal for your liking. Looking over the menu, your mouth fell open at the prices. A Cobb salad was $30! 

“Get whatever you like,” Aaron said, smiling at you from across the table, “it’s on me.” 

You gave him a tight nod, trying to force a polite smile on your face, but the idea of him spending this much money on you made you uncomfortable. When the waiter arrived, you ordered the cheapest thing available and water. He took your menus, and Aaron turned his attention to you. 

“I’m thrilled you decided to join me, (Y/N),” he said as if he hadn’t set all of this up without your knowledge beforehand. “I’ve always admired you. You’re incredibly beautiful.” 

“Uh…thanks, I guess,” you murmured, wishing you were anywhere but there. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, leaning in to get closer to you. 

“Sure,” you said. 

He gave you a conspiratorial smile. 

“I always intended on asking you out. That’s why I hired you,” he explained. “I love coming to work every day and seeing you.” 

You immediately frowned. While you were sure he intended that to be flattering, it was incredibly creepy. He hadn’t hired you for your experience? He just wanted to date you? 

You were thinking of something to say when there was a commotion at the front of the restaurant. 

“Sir! You can’t come in without a reservation!” the hostess was yelling and to your surprise, Orion was marching across the dining room looking pissed off. His dark eyes immediately found yours, and you hoped he read the relief in them. 

“Orion!” you gasped, looking up at him. 

He glanced away, glaring at Aaron. 

“Excuse me,” Aaron said, indignant. “You’re interrupting our dinner.” 

Orion ignored Aaron and turned his intense gaze back to you. Your heart skipped in your chest, and your cheeks burned. The look in his eyes was a mixture of ravenous hunger and complete outrage. 

“Did you agree to this dinner?” he snapped, and your mouth went dry. 

Unable to form words, you quickly shook your head with a tight jerk. 

“He just brought me here,” you finally managed to squeak out. “I-I wasn’t planning on-”

He cut you off raising a large hand, looking back at Aaron. 

“You kidnapped my woman,” he snarled. 

Your eyes popped at the words “my woman.” Did Orion consider you his? 

Aaron shrank under Orion’s gaze. 

“I-I would hardly say kidnapped…” he stammered. 

Orion growled. 

“Did he touch you?” he asked. 

You tried to lie and say he hadn’t, but your face told him something different. 

“It was just a little touch,” you peeped when it was obvious he could tell the little shake of your head that you gave him was an untruth. 

Before you could finish the last word, Orion clocked Aaron in the jaw with his meaty fist. His chair toppled over and he lay sprawled out on the floor, unconscious. 

“Orion!” you squealed again, but he wasn’t listening. 

He scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder, marching back out of the restaurant while all the guests watched in shock. The waiters and the hostess jumped out of his way as he passed. 

“Orion! What are you doing?” you asked as you bounced on his shoulder. 

Instead of answering, his chest rumbled with a deep noise that released butterflies in your stomach. 

He opened the passenger door to his truck and carefully set you inside, buckling the seatbelt over your chest before he shut the door. Then he hopped in the driver’s side and peeled out of the parking lot. 

You stared at your friend, eyes as big as saucers as he drove through the darkening city. 

“Why did you do that?” you questioned. “You could get in big trouble! He might get you arrested!” 

He snorted. 

“For protecting my mate from her sexually harassing boss? Doubt it.”

You blinked at him. Mate?

There were different rules for the Fairyfolk when it came to mates. They defended them so fiercely a new set of laws had to be drawn up to protect this “cultural difference.” Every human knew not to touch a Fairyfolk’s mate. You shook your head, trying to sort through what was happening. 

“Where are we going?” you asked, as he was not going in the direction of your house. 

“Home,” he said. 

You blinked at him. 

“My apartment is the opposite way,” you argued, but he just pinned you with a look. 

You drew your brow and crossed your arms, pouting. 

“Orion! Why aren’t you talking to me?” you asked. 

His face softened, and he twisted his hands on the steering wheel, taking a big breath before he answered you. 

“I don’t like that he touched you,” he said. “No one touches you but me. You’re mine.” 

Your mouth fell open just a bit before you forced it closed, swallowing a lump in your throat. 

“Yours?” you asked and he nodded curtly.   

“B-but…you never said…” you stammered. 

“Not good with words,” he grunted. 

“Oh,” you said, your mouth forming a surprised O shape. 

You turned away from him, looking out the front windshield at the darkening city slipping by. 

“Where is home?” you asked. 

“You’ll see,” was all he would say. 

You folded your legs under your body and leaned your head against the window, tired. Your heart was pounding and a slight tremor left you vibrating against the seat. Where could Orion be taking you?

At some point you must have dozed off because when you woke the truck had come to a stop and Orion was opening your door. 

“Where are we?” you murmured, your words a bit slurred from sleep. 

He unbuckled your seatbelt and took you in his arms. 

“Home,” he said. 

You peered through the darkness to find you were no longer in the city, but on one of the mountains that surrounded it. Over your shoulder you could see the city lights twinkling in the valley like stars. In front of you there was a beautiful cabin home. It was two stories with full pane glass windows and a wrap-around porch. 

“This is where you live?” you gasped. 

You’d always assumed Orion had some flat in the city just like yours. 

“It is where you live, too,” he corrected. 

Your eyes widened on him as he took you up the front steps and unlocked the door. 

“I can’t live here!” you argued. “I’m too far away from work!” 

He chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. 

“You will not go back to work,” he told you, setting you on the couch and turning his back to you so he could put fuel in the woodstove. 

“But…how will I make money?” you asked. 

“You don’t need money,” he said. “I have plenty of it.” 

“But…but…” you stammered, trying to wrap your head around the situation. 

Was Orion claiming you? Did you want to be claimed? 

The door of the woodstove clanged shut and he spun around, his smokey eyes on you. He lowered himself to his knees in front of you so you were eye to eye. 

“I’m not sure I understand-” you started to say, but were silenced with his lips slanting over yours. 

Your whole world swung upside down as he kissed you. Electricity shot down your spine, energy sparkling at the apex of your thighs. You breathed a wispy sigh into his mouth and the large fingers of one hand clutched the nape of your neck, holding you to him. This was the kiss you’d been desperately pining for and it was more than you could have ever imagined. 

When he pulled away, he pinned you with his inky gaze. 

“You’re mine, got it?” he rumbled. 

You whimpered and nodded, your thoughts muddled and his rich, spicy scent filling your lungs. He pulled you to him again, this time his kiss was more hungry and needy. You felt his smooth tusks against your cheek and his stiff tongue licking your bottom lip, wanting entrance. You parted your lips for him, letting him explore. He licked and tasted you while your fingers dared to creep up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle underneath his shirt. At your touch, he let out a deep rolling sound. 

Though Orion was eager to get your clothes off of you, he knew you were delicate, both inside and out. He adored your soft spirit and vowed never to crush it, so instead of taking you to bed and ravishing you, he rose to get comfortable on the big couch, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around your warm body. He smoothed his large hand over your hair, tucking your head under his chin. 

He lamented waiting far too long to claim you, not wanting to frighten you and scare you away, but he couldn’t tolerate some other male hovering around. You belonged to him whether you knew it or not and it was well past time to claim you for his own. 

Completely oblivious to these thoughts, you sighed into his chest, listening to the gentle boom of his heartbeat, and feeling like you’d come home. 

[fic-recs-by-mink]

Lime-sized

Simon 'Ghost' Riley / fem!Reader

Summary:   Simon finds out his girlfriend is pregnant. He's determined to be the good father he never had.

Content:  civilian girlfriend, established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, Ghost as a dad not just daddy, so much fluff, some mild sexual undertones

Word Count:   1.7k

Notes: Okay so this request could have gone two ways: either Ghost knows or doesn't know about the pregnancy. But I thought it would be kind of strange... like in a maybe-she-cheated-on-me way if she didn't tell him (because why else wouldn't she, realistically). I decided on making him super happy/fluffy/anxious with anticipation instead 🫶🏻

Two months ago, everything had started with a nervous phone call, a teary-eyed confession, stunned silence. She'd been trembling as she clutched the pregnancy test in one hand, phone pressed to her ear in the other.

Simon had been dead silent for several endless moments, and more tears had gathered in her eyes, because god damn, now was probably not the time, why had they ever thought it would be okay not to use condoms-

"Pregnant?" He whispered, oceans apart but his voice as close as though Simon was right beside her.

"Y-yes," she whispered back, staring at the little screen that read 3-4 weeks. "I think so."

"And you took only one, yeah?" He said, voice gentle. Hopeful. Was it because he hoped this one had malfunctioned, or because he wanted it to be true?

"Yes, I only had one at home, for-" emergencies, she almost said, but that felt wrong. Because despite the bad timing, a tiny flutter of excitement jumped around her belly at the prospect of having a child, Simon's baby. "Just in case."

"Alright, sweetheart," he exhaled on the other end of the line. "How about you go to the shop, and buy a couple more from different brands so we can be sure, hm?"

"Will you stay on the phone with me, Si?" She whispered, and he hummed in agreement.

They pointedly didn't talk about the potential baby on the way to the supermarket, with Simon giving her a rundown of what he'd been up to in the last week (probably highly censored for her sake) and her trying not to crash the car with all the nervous energy running through her.

She bought different ones, all the way from cheap to expensive, pink to blue, and chucked in some chocolate bars and crisps for good measure. Either way, she was most likely going to cry on the sofa tonight.

Simon's calm deep voice never left as she took the tests one after another, all lined up on the bathroom counter. They waited together, tense with anticipation.

"They're positive," she said, staring. "All of them."

"Oh, thank God," Simon groaned, and his voice was a little muffled as though he'd pressed his face into the pillow. 

Now, two months later, things had drastically changed in every single way one could imagine. For starters, they'd been forced to not only talk about money but also the fact that they didn't have a shared flat, let alone enough space for another tiny human. 

Simon wanted to buy a small house for them, but the thought of him spending that kind of money made her uneasy. They'd argued about it several times already, and he'd only given it a rest when she agreed to casually go to a couple listings in their preferred area during the upcoming months.

Not only was their shared Amazon account flooded with parenting and pregnancy-related guidebooks that Simon downloaded to his Kindle religiously, but an avalanche of parcels had started overflowing her living room as well.

XL packs of diapers, a crib, swaddling cloths, pacifiers, toys, a night light. All of it was delivered by increasingly familiar postmen, with her resigning to the fact that Simon was losing his mind.

"Honey," she whined into her phone one evening, pulling out a series of zoo animal-themed bath towels. "It's not even here yet!"

"She isn't here yet," he corrected her with a clearing of the throat. "And once she is, you'll thank me for being prepared."

"You don't even know if it's a girl," she groaned, folding the newest purchase away with an eye roll. 

"Of course I do," Simon replied with so much conviction that she almost believed him. "I was the one who-"

"Produced her?" She grinned, and he huffed a breath of amusement. 

"Yes," his voice was dark and smooth as silk, suddenly making her mouth run dry. 

"I miss you, Si," she whispered, playing with the drawstrings of her pyjama bottoms.

"Not long now, then I'll be home with you. Be a good girl and take care of yourself and my daughter until I'm back, yeah?"

It made her thighs clench a little, and judging by the knowing smile in Simon's voice, he knew exactly what he was doing to her and her hormones. Good lord, if she'd known that he would embrace being a father like this, the baby fever probably would have struck her way sooner.

"I don't want to wait," she pouted, and Simon chuckled.

"I know darlin', I know."

She was standing on tiptoes, trying to see over the crowd of people gathered around the double doors labelled arrivals. Many had come and gone already, but she knew that Simon often got stuck in additional security screenings and customs - so while the long wait sucked, it gave her some more time to gather herself.

When she'd stood in this exact spot three and a half months ago, she never would have guessed that it would be the last few weeks where it was only the two of them. 

No matter what happened from here on out, there would always be something that bound Simon to her, that spoke of the love they had for one another: a child. 

And while her boyfriend was hellbent on it being a girl, she secretly hoped for a mini version of him. One she could hold and adore whenever his daddy was away, whose dark brown eyes and pale lashes would surely steal everybody's heart in no time at all. 

She wondered if it would be a quiet kid, perhaps a bookworm or an animal lover? Would she be the one to teach them how to swim? Was Simon going to take his alleged daughter on the back of his motorcycle to school, just to show off? 

Smiling and stroking her stomach absentmindedly, she almost missed the tall frame of her boyfriend as he squeezed himself past a group of elderly men, looking for her. When Simon spotted her, he made a straight line towards her, and people hastily stepped out of his way when it became clear that he was ready to go straight through them if he had to.

Under normal circumstances, she might have been a little embarrassed by all the curious and irritated glances that fell on them, but then Simon was right there, yanking his facemask down.

He was beaming so widely, that the scar bisecting his lower lip and chin disappeared almost entirely from being stretched so far. 

Simon scooped her up in his arms, uncaring of the heavy backpack he was still carrying and then twirled her around a few times, face buried in her neck and shoulder. She laughed, trying to hold on, overwhelmed by the completely uncharacteristic display of affection but pleased regardless.

"Look at you," he smiled as he gently lowered her back to her own feet, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You're glowing." 

"I think that's just something they tell pregnant women so they feel better about the whole thing," she grinned, accepting the quick kiss he pressed to her mouth and nose.

Simon rolled his eyes, grabbed her hand and steered her towards the airport exit.

"I don't think she's really in there," Simon frowned, examining her stomach from all sides. They were lying on the sofa, with her only in sweatpants and a bra while Simon was draped over her legs, face practically squished into her tummy. "It's so quiet. And you don't look any different!"

The accusation in his voice made her snort, and she gently carded her fingers through his curls. He put his ear back to her stomach, breathing deeply.

"What, do you expect her to say hello daddy, please don't disturb my nap time? The only thing you're going to hear is my stomach growling from being neglected so much."

Simon's head whipped up so fast, she would have scooted back in fright if not for the heavy weight between her legs. 

"Are you hungry? Why didn't you say anything? We can have snacks before dinner is ready-"

Grabbing his head between both hands until she could squish his cheeks together and shut him up that way, his girlfriend stared into Simon's eyes with an exasperated smile. She leaned forward and kissed his puckered lips for a moment, then released him.

"Si, while I would never say no to snacks, you need to relax. I'm not starving, and the baby isn't either, because that's what you're really worried about, isn't it?"

The guilty shake of the head and half-hearted denial made her roll her eyes and pull him closer again. Simon rested his head on her chest, arms wrapped tightly under her back. They lay there while listening to the early October rain knock against her living room windows.

"She's the size of a lime now, did you know?" He mumbled. "And we'll be able to hear her heartbeat during the scan tomorrow. At the end of the first trimester babies usually-"

Sighing happily, she wiggled a bit deeper into his embrace and listened to Simon's deep voice as he eventually launched into a detailed list of questions he had prepared for the doctor already. 

And it felt amazing to know that the man who possessed her heart in its entirety, who had carved a space for her in his life full of violence and death, could be so tender, could change so much for the sake of their family. 

"I love you, Simon," she interrupted him, and he blinked, turning his head so his chin rested on her sternum.

"I love you too, honey," he smiled. "You okay?"

"Never been better."

Not me staring at my positive covid test like... this was not what we just wrote about, body. 😭

But still: Blushing, kicking my feet, giggling. I absolutely adore writing these tough men be super soft for their significant other - and I always headcanon Ghost to be like that in private. How chatty and excited he'd be, now that he'll have a family, I- 😭

My other COD writing can be found in this masterlist, as well as my shorter COD headcanons. 🫶🏻

I hope the person who requested this liked it, and that everybody else found something to smile about as well! Stay safe, until next time. - A✨

[fic-recs-by-mink]

hc's that may as well be canon <3

Metagame 141 where the cod games are in the cod universe

Soap posts tiktoks of ghost and everyone thinks he's just a really accurate cospayer

[fic-recs-by-mink]

seeing simon’s face for the first time.

simon was anxious to show you what his face was. he swore to himself the next time he opened himself to someone would be during his autopsy. until he met you.

you changed everything. his whole life began to revolve around you. he adored you. he constantly worried if you felt the same. simon’s a confident man, he wasn’t ugly - far from it, but he worried about what taking off the mask symbolized.

late at night, you two stayed up in bed, talking mindlessly. simon had promised to show you his face tonight. you waited patiently for him. you knew that no matter what simon looked like, you would love him.

as the conversation dulled, simon took a deep breath and silently slipped off the mask. you stared at his face in pure awe and adoration. he was perfect to you.

immediately, you nuzzled your nose against his, pressing your lips onto his, savoring the taste and feel of his lips. simon drew your body closer to him.

as you pulled away, you don’t know when you teared up, you babbled your next words, “si..”

“yes, lovie?” he whispered.

“i never would’ve guessed you were blonde,” you choked out through tears.

simon simply chuckled in response, kissing you once again.

i’ve studied and practiced my english for YEARS and NO ONE told me gargled was not a term for speaking. /nm

masterlist! | requests are open. | comments and reblogs appreciated.

[fic-recs-by-mink]

you my friend have mastered Loki’s character, i have nothing left but applause for you. this is beyond s tier, this is absolute brilliance

Fighting Fair

~10,400 words of Loki… fluff? This one is a bit more intense, warnings below. Sneaky and protective Loki, and a bit of ruthless ler!Loki, a bit steamy too 👀 

Rating: PG13 

CW: Killing/death, mention of torture and drugging, injuries, sexual tension, swearing

“Please, Loki,” Thor urged his brother. “She will surely die if not rescued. We must go now.” 

Loki’s chest surged with an unusual anxiety the second Thor spoke your name. The Trickster God didn’t need convincing to come rescue you, he was simply unsure if this were an elaborate ruse to lure him out from the safety of the Avengers Compound, where he was successfully concealed from former allies he betrayed to his brother and Midgard’s vigilante crew.

It would have been an impressive feat, if an enemy had been able to perfectly mimic how Thor soars behind Mjolnir and lands with a mighty crack and a fist to the ground, right down to the singed grass in his radius. If they’d managed to replicate that, it would be very impressive indeed. Besides, how could they know who the one person was that Loki would leave the safety of this place for? There was something in Thor’s voice that told the younger Asgardian you were not being used as a pawn against him; you were in genuine and grave danger. 

Keep reading

[fic-recs-by-mink]

this inspires me !! hit all the corners like a DVD screensaver i am in LOVE with this !!!

Little Wonders

Pairing: Loki x female!reader Summary: You’re by Loki’s side his whole life, and vice versa. There is not a doubt in either of your minds that you love each other. Together, you can weather any storm.  Warnings: a behemoth of a fic! (11.6 k words); brief mentions of blood; some angst but mainly fluff; not proofread; childhood friends to lovers trope ahead! A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this, nonny! I was in the zone the entire time I was writing this, and it may be the most fun I’ve ever had with a oneshot, which is really saying something! It’s certainly the longest one I’ve written! Longer than any chapter I’ve written too, for that matter. On one of the days I was writing this, the song Little Wonders by Rob Thomas popped into my head and the lyrics just felt like they were talking about this story (some of them even made their way in at the end)! I am inordinately proud of this fic, so please validate me with some comments and reblogs. Hope you all enjoy!

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02​ @nilavey @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @silver-lupines​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​ @what-a-flammable-heart​ @marvelouslovely​ @laurenandloki​ @fallinallinmendes​ @sophlubbwriting​ @mooncat163​ @lokislittlesigyn​ @wolfish-trickster​ @electroma89​ @jgun2001​ @toe-vind-ek-jou @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson​ @theaudacitytowrite​ @patches-of-mist​ @nicoistrying​ @geminiwolves​ @funnyexel​ @nectav​ @50svibes​ @dryyoursaltyoceantears​ @bison-writes​ @magicandheaven @keepingitlokiii​ @captain-asguard​ @laufeyiison​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

The first time Loki took notice of you, you were both children. He’d been scolded rather harshly and, somewhat embarrassingly, you had been around to hear it, inside the servant passages. He’d scowled when you’d slunk out of there, quickly wiping away his tears. Though you knew you were breaking the rules, presenting yourself in front of one of the palace residents—one of the princes, no less!—you couldn’t help but try to cheer him up.

Being young, even a few years younger than Loki, you’d thought that by being quiet enough, you could avoid detection. He couldn’t help but chuckle as you snuck around the room, carefully sliding a plate of truffles toward him on his nightstand. Then you began to hurriedly sneak your way out of there.

“Wait!” he called through sniffles.

Keep reading

[fic-recs-by-mink]

just started listening to troye sivannnn i rlly like his music

anyway i almost got sick because this was super fluffy and just plain awesome ;) kudos, op

lost my mind in a wedding gown {Dream}

Summary: Now everyone knows. Now everyone has an opinion. Sometimes you just want to make impulsive decisions with the one you love because you love them, without worrying what the world will think.

A/N: 5431 words. sickeningly fluffy. seriously, it gets so sweet its kind of gross. i love this universe, and yes there will be a part 4, which will be the final part. please let me know what you think. idk how i feel abt this fic, please gimme feedback if u have any :)

Warnings: heavily implied nsfw.

{ Idiots-To-Lovers 'verse } | { 3 / 4 }

How did you get here? In the grand scheme of your life, what moments lead to here, to standing in Dream and Sapnap's kitchen at three in the morning in your pyjamas, frozen where you'd been looking through the cupboards for something to snack on. Sapnap stood in his doorway, also dead still, gaze locked with yours, his monitors alight behind him where he was still streaming.

"Do you actually live here?" He asks, finally breaking the silence, bewildered by the whole situation with exhausted amusement heavy in his voice, "why are you in my cupboard?"

"There's no labels," you pointed out, slowly closing the cupboard again, "what are you playing?"

And while you'd only come out to grab a snack because you couldn't sleep, you end up joining Sapnap for the end of his stream, chattering away with him as he played Valorant.

"I'm not gonna say some gross, cutesy shit on Sapnap's stream-" you said around a yawn while chat was asking why you were up at this hour.

"Glad to hear you've learned some self control," he smirked, focused on the game in front of him as you leaned on the arm of his chair, your head on his shoulder.

"I was refraining for their sake, not yours," you sniped back with a grin of your own, which had him laughing, "I was too tired to be a menace about thirty seconds ago but I feel a burst of energy coming on."

"Hey, don't be all cute and gross and torture my chat just to get back at me," he warned, "that's violates the Geneva Conventions you know." A long pause follows, and for the barest moment he's worried that he's genuinely upset you in your tired state, and he casts a glance at you, trying to gauge your reaction, only to see your face all scrunched up in thought.

"You okay there?"

"I don't wanna get cancelled because people clip that out of context and think I commit war crimes," you huffed after a moment, realising too late that since you'd spoken it into existence, people were almost definitely going to start jokingly cancelling you for war crimes. Sapnap, on the other hand, who hadn't been expected anything like that response, barks a laugh, grinning from ear to ear.

"Anyway," you say loudly, "Dream's been editing for the past few hours and I didn't want to distract him while he was in the zone, but I..." you made a hesitant hum in the back of your throat, turning to press your forehead against Sapnap's shoulder, even if he didn't have a facecam on, you felt as though you needed to hide your embarrassment, "I was having trouble sleeping alone, okay?"

"So you try and steal my food and decided to bother me?" He says, tone holding nothing but affection for you, thankfully deciding not to tease you for your sappier admission.

"Naturally," you grin, faint embarrassment alleviated, moving your head back to rest on his shoulder as you watched him play.

"You're more of a cat than Patches sometimes."

As if to prove his point, you reach out and swipe at the empty water bottle at the edge of his desk, knocking it to the ground, grinning from ear to ear.

With the stream, however, there's confusion online over the next few days, casual observers coming out of the woodworks wondering when you'd moved in with the boys. Many of your followers corrected them kindly, but it had still sparked something in your mind, an idea, a concept you were hesitant to bring up.

You haven't been keeping count, persay, but you and Dream had been together for more than a few months now, had been close friends for years before that, and as like Sapnap liked to point out whenever he was in a petty mood, you did practically live with them already.

Still nervous when you finally bring it up, you're met with a grin, with a laugh from your boyfriend as he points out that you've been paying rent on a place you're pretty much using as storage, which was dumb when it's not like their house is small, it's not like there's not room for you. Heart beating in your throat, you realise he's agreeing, something in his eyes saying we should have done this sooner.

And you're quiet about it online until it's all said and done. Going radio silent for the week in which you're moving, you still don't quite believe it's really happening. There's a moment where you're standing in your kitchen, taping up one of the final boxes full of your belongings, while you can hear Dream and Sapnap trying to logistically work out how they were going to get your sofa through your door and into the elevator, when you find yourself overwhelmed with love and appreciation for them. This was really happening, your life was moving forward; you're actually moving in with your best friends, one of whom happens to be your boyfriend. Part of you had never expected to get here.

"I think I had a dream like this once," you tell them with a slight frown, "weird," and you leave it at that. You don't tell them that they'd broken your sofa trying to fit it through the door in your dream. It didn't matter now. Perhaps you'd been afraid that moving meant changing who you were to fit in with them, though now you see that couldn't be further from the truth.

"Now it's your turn, Gogy," you can't help the contented little sigh that escapes you as you flop back onto your sofa, gazing up at the roof of your new-but-familiar bedroom you now officially shared with Dream. George, giving you a fond smile through the screen of your phone, jokingly asks if there's even room for him, "a whole spare room is waiting for you," you assured. There's something fond in his smile, thinking aloud about how long it would be until he's properly able to come over and join the three of you. Soon, is the only conclusion he can come to, soon, but even so, it doesn't feel soon enough.

However, until George does arrive, you'd been able to commandeer the spare room, that had originally just been for storage, for your gaming set up while you looked into nearby cheap office spaces.

"Yeah, I moved some thing in my background," you gave a little chuckle at the start of your first stream after your move, to which the chat was up in arms with confusion.

[THE WHOLE BATHROOM DOOR? YOU MOVED THE WHOLE BATHROOM DOOR???????] one donated, which had you cackling with laughter, not able to keep up the ruse for the first five minutes of being live. As if on cue, however, before you can even answer them, the door opens.

"How the tables turn; now I can bother you when I'm bored and you're streaming," Sapnap told you, and you don't even have to look at your screen to know that chat is already connecting the dots.

"Hey, that's my job," Dream shouts from the living room.

"You do that anyways," Sapnap rolls his eyes with a good-natured amusement, "but now they've got a facecam, you guys can't be gross on their streams anymore." There's a beat of silence, before both yourself and Dream point out that you'd just turn off or cover your camera for him.

"You guys are the worst," he tells you both, matter-of-factly as he strides into the spare room and rests his chin on the top of your head, looking at your set up and giving a wave to your camera. Chat spams his name, excited, while all you can do is roll your eyes, trying to fight back your own grin.

"You know my menacing of you and your streams is just gonna get worse now that I officially live here, right?"

"I'm aware, I've made my peace with it," his grin is all teeth and he gives you a firm pet on the head before he leaves, citing that there's a grace period of one stream after moving in before he starts to bother you properly in return.

It's not as if much changes, you'd practically already been living there after all, now your knicknacks were scattered about the house, and your clothes joined Dream's in his wardrobe, and there was something about the sense of home that filled you whenever you would wake up to light streaming through the window above you, and Dream's arm curled around you.

"You live here now," is what he says, voice a raspy whisper, still half asleep, the first time he catches sight of you smiling, almost disbelievingly, at him in the morning light. His eyes are barely cracked open, face half-pressed into the pillow, but there's a grin on his lips that is both sleepy and happy, and you curl up close to him, kissing him gently on the nose.

"I live here now," you murmur back, and tuck yourself close to him, closing your eyes but unable to stop smiling as you let yourself drift back off.

Our room. Our apartment. The phrases make you giddy every time you think of them, every time you say them, even on stream, which just endears you further to your audience, if that was even possible. Unfortunately, on the other hand -

"It's not- can you guys not speculate about what is and isn't too fast in my personal relationships?" Dream huffed an irate breath through his nose as he tried to focus on what he had be building in Minecraft, "I don't know how long you've been here, but here's a short timeline; we've been together for months, and have been super fucking close for years before that -" his phone buzzes, interrupting him.

[you okay babe?] You've messaged from the other room. Taking a moment, he takes a deep breath to try and placate his irritation at chat being weird and invasive. There is something that grows warm in his chest, however, that you're still watching him stream but not wanting to interrupt despite your proximity.

[can you come in here?] he replies quickly, and in moments, you're quietly opening the door, crossing to him without a word, pressing a warm kiss to his cheek. Even that is enough to ease the tense set of his shoulders; you stay quiet, don't make your presence known, but you remain in the room, sitting cross-legged by his chair with your forehead braced against his knee as you scrolled through your social media feeds. Occasionally he'd gently place his hand on your head, a silent moment of contact and thanks, and in turn you'd give the faintest hum of acknowledgement, and press a quick kiss to his knee.

Of course you're also getting similar comments, though your fans are surprised at the restraint you'd been showing. Dream's outburst on stream seemed out of character for someone who usually puts far more thought into how he responds to his audience; you, however, are a well documented creature of impulse.

"You should really pay me to be your PR team," Sapnap jokes when the topic comes up during an impromptu Discord Podcast; Dream and George's laughter fills the call for a few moments, but none of you seem inclined to disagree.

"You're my impulse control, there's a difference," you snort a laugh of your own, tucked up in your gaming chair on the other side of the apartment, "and only when it comes to Twitter."

"Should I be offended that you run your potentially controversial tweets past Sap before you run them past me?" Dream jokes, to which Sapnap himself was quick to shut him down.

"No, because you would have absolutely okayed 'just say you wish you were me and move on' they almost tweeted last week -"

"Yeah because it's true," Dream fired back, and you felt a warm and vaguely selfish pride bloom in your chest.

"What was it in regards to?" George asks, still half-laughing.

"Does it matter?" Both you and Dream and answer at the same time, much to your collective delight, while the other two groaned.

"You guys make sense together but that is not a compliment," George cackles, and you very kindly tell him to fuck off, "love you too, Y/N," he coos.

"The minute you land in the US it is on sight, Goggy," you warn him, though the fondness in your voice betrays your aggressive intent; you feel his absence in the moments you feel the most affection for him. There's no doubt in your mind that he'd fit easily into your life, and into this home, just as you had.

Living with Dream and Sapnap, for the record, is actually easy. You'd been worried, considering your sometimes scatter-brained nature, but if there's something that requires a reminder, or some sort of problem, they talk about it. Actually talk. It's... refreshing. It's somehow better than you'd been expecting. Communicating, huh, who would have guessed. To be fair, as everyone liked to point out, you'd practically been living there before it had become official anyways, so it really shouldn't have been a surprise that you'd fit so seamlessly into life in the spacious apartment.

Though your impulsive nature still sometimes got the better of you.

"Wanna go somewhere."

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Dream looks away from his monitor for a moment to where you're laying on the floor of his office, eyes closed and arms flopped out to the sides.

"Both?"

You're bored, an itch between your shoulder blades that isn't really there. It's a discomfort you can't shift, like you're going stir crazy. It's been a month, and it's been great, but sometimes you just need a change of scenery.

"People have been asking me to visit them and I keep thinking about it, but I kind of just want to... go somewhere. Without having to make content, you know?" Then, cracking your eyes open for a moment, you look to where he's gazing down at you with slight confusion, "you don't have to come, I just wanted to keep you up to date with where my head's at," you tell him, "in case I do just take off. Run to California for a few days."

"Run?" He gives a faint smile.

"It's only a bit further than my old apartment," your lips stretch into an amused smile, and he huffs a faint, disbelieving laugh.

"Don't run to LA."

"Only because you asked nicely," you snorted, though there was something genuine and fond in your eyes. A question, an invitation; Dream's smile grows wider.

"Road trip?"

Something in your heart lights up at the suggestion. You've never been more quick to agree.

The morning you leave for LA, Sapnap tweets out a video he had taken as he was seeing you and Dream off, with the caption [roseduo decidedly not taking the braincell on their vacation. good luck.].

The video itself is of Sapnap's face as he tells Dream specifically to not do anything stupid while you were gone.

"Too late, my dude," comes your instinctual response, and there's a moment in which his entire expression reads exasperation, right before he flips the camera to catch you using both thumbs to point at yourself in the passenger seat, while the driver's side is empty. Then after a beat, as the boot of the car slams and Dream's laughter can be heard, you deflate with faint embarrassment, as if your brain has caught up with what you've said without thinking, and you bury your face in your hands with a groan. The camera flips back around, but now Sapnap is trying to hold in laughter of his own.

"That tracks, have a good one, guys," and the video ends.

You'd announced your vacation as more of a two-week hiatus from Twitch and YouTube, but hadn't given much more information beyond that, if only to preserve some form of privacy. The first two days of your trip, you even keep yourself off of Twitter, only going on Discord to message close friends; it's the freest you've felt in a very long time.

The tail-end of Summer is a glorious time for a road-trip, you decide, windows down and warm air whipping past; all that matters is this single moment, the way you look over to see Dream singing along to the radio beside you.

You'd spent so long adoring him from afar, only to find out just how close he really was; when you think too hard about it, it all starts to overwhelm you. How had you made it here? How was this your life?

He glances over to you; you've gone quiet, he's asking if you're okay. You look back out the window, soaking in the moment as best you can.

"I had a dream like this once;" you tell him over the radio, the noise of the wind whistling past, "pretty sunset and everything," right before the car crashed; you leave that last part out. Perhaps it had been you worrying about moving too fast. Perhaps you were terrified that this good thing would end suddenly, and go up in flames. But Dream rests his hand on your thigh and gives it a faint squeeze; he tells you he loves you, easy and genuine, and you tell him you love him too, wearing a bright smile as excited butterflies fluttered around in your stomach. You turn up the music.

But still, you can't shake the thought that everyone else seems to be voicing, focused on it in a way you hadn't anticipated. Chancing a look at Twitter, you find yourself frowning as you sit cross-legged on your hotel bed for the night.

"I'm tired of being told I'm insufferable," it's the most serious you've been in a long while. Dream, stretched out on his side beside you, looks up from his own phone, propping his head up with his hand, assuring you that he doesn't think you're insufferable. Huffing with frustration, you lay back beside him, looking up at the ceiling. Turning to his, your expression is forlorn, "I wanna be nice to you online without being called gross; everyone else is weird about us now, and I miss..." scrunching up your expression, you look away, even now as a faint embarrassment hums through you, "I miss being gross and cute with you and not being treated like a fucking criminal for it."

"We're adults," you huffed, right as Dream curled an arm around your middle, pulling you closer, "we're allowed to be in love," though as you say this, you remember reading through the comments of the video Sapnap had posted several days earlier, "we're allowed to fuck, you know?"

"I am very aware," you can hear that he's holding back laughter, which, upon reflecting on the words that you'd spat with such vitriol, you can't help but laugh yourself.

"I'm tired of everyone else thinking they know better than us," his voice, as he agrees, is quiet and warm. Carefully, he shifts until he's looking down at you, an arm braced either side of you. Just the sight of him like this has your anger fading fast. You reach up to gently take hold of his cheek, "I knew you'd be part of the rest of my life one way or another from about," he considered for a moment, crease appearing above his brow as he remembered, "the third time I spoke to you? Maybe?"

"The rest of your life?" Voice softly awed, you're surprised when a blush begins to creep up his cheeks beneath your hand.

"Something like that," he mumbled, "I can't remember why, but I was talking about how I was waiting to hear back about these tryouts I'd been at, football back when we were all in high school, and you didn't even know me, but you called me a man of many talents, and then did the single most impressive burp I'd heard to that day, before you said that they'd be stupid to not put me on the team," his face scrunches up as he appears to be recalling your exact wording, still amused by the details even now.

"You remember that?" You asked, voice and smile both full of affection as you leaned up to meet him, kissing him gently as a warmth, a fondness spreads throughout your chest.

"Of course I remember that," Dream exhales a little breathlessly, laying back out beside you; when you look at him, there's that crease in his brow again, that faint irritation that you know is never directed at you, "it's what pisses me off about people saying we're moving too fast; I've loved you either platonically or romantically for years, at this point I'm pretty sure I'm making up for lost time." With that, you press your face into his shoulder, love and adoration blossoming so bright within you you're not sure how you're managing to contain it all.

"You romantic motherfucker," you mumbled, all kinds of abashed as the tension broke, and his fond laughter lit up the room, "I felt like the biggest dork in the world, and there you were, a potential footballer, getting roasted by George and Sap in Minecraft on an almost daily basis. I could not get a read on you, I just thought you..." pressing your lips together for a moment, you lifted your face to rest your chin on his shoulder; like this, when he turns to you, you're almost nose to nose. It's clear that he's intrigued by your early impression of him, "I was a weird teenager, Dream."

"I know, I was there," he smirked in an attempt to subdue his laughter.

"And you were still so fucking cool and nice; I had such a crush on you, man."

"And how'd that work out for you?" He teased, however your own words had triggered a realisation in the back of your mind, and your whole expression lights up with shock as you sit bolt upright.

"How have I been deadass in love with you for years without realising?!"

The abruptness has Dream bursting out into laughter, endeared with how thoroughly you're cursing your past self, though as he sits up properly, gently holding your cheek with one hand, his amusement softens to a gentle fondness at the sight of apology in your eyes.

"Probably the same as what happened with me; became kind of a constant truth that you ended up forgetting about it; we were kids, it's not like we knew how to properly deal with feelings like that, they just... were. And we're friends, so a lot of that love was platonic too, the same way we love George or Sap, you know?" And it's strange to hear him so concisely put into words the indescribable things you're feeling.

"Sounds like you've thought about this a lot," you muse, and to your surprise, his smile turns a little sharper, a little self deprecating even.

"Yeah, well I saw one of the stops on our trip and had a stupid, impulsive thought," he shrugged.

"You know I love stupid, impulsive thoughts," you raised your eyebrows, already invested.

"It's possibly too stupid. Possibly. It seems like a terrible idea, maybe even a little spiteful," he warned, though he's already pulling out his phone. You sit a little straighter, every word he's saying only serving to entice you further, "you know where we're staying on Friday?"

"Nevada?" You frown for a moment, and he waits for it to hit you. A moment passes, then - oh!

"Do you wanna get married in Vegas?!" You hissed with barely concealed glee at the suggestion, clutching tightly at his free hand. It was absolutely an impulsive, stupid, terrible, and spiteful idea; of course you're already in.

"I'm not saying we should get married in Vegas, but also..." he too was trying and failing to contain his excitement at the suggestion, though he did attempt to school his expression into something more serious, "one, and most importantly, I love you and I have for... you know, as we've just talked about, a very long time, but two, I do think it would be very funny to get married in Vegas." He's actively giggling; you've pretty sure you've never been more in love than in this moment.

"One, yes, obviously I love you so fucking much, but also, two, you're right, it would be hilarious," you're nodding emphatically, beaming from ear to ear. Your lips on his are enthusiastic and messy, full of joy and delight, and you find yourself babbling about how perhaps one of you should officially -

"Marry me? I mean, will you -" he's stumbling over his words but can't stop grinning, and you're pushing him back against the bed, kissing yes across his jaw, down the column of his throat, though he's quick to join you back in the moment, pulling your shirt over your head.

There's a giddiness that accompanies the next few days of the trip, a smile that doesn't leave either of your faces. As the days pass and you put more thought into it, you realise your list of reasons as to why this is actually a bad idea grows shorter and shorter. The initial exhilaration of the idea, of the proposal, has worn off, but you're still excited rather than at all hesitant. His words play on your mind more than the thousands of other comments you've received before; you've been in love with him in one way or another for almost as long as you've known him. This isn't too fast, if anything this is making up for lost time.

Somehow you manage to keep quiet about it, even to close friends. For all that they care, you know they don't understand, don't see everything leading up to this moment, they'd try to talk you out of it. Your reputation as a creature of impulse had given you the reputation of being rather thoughtless, enough so that even those close to you forgot that that wasn't the whole truth. Except you never felt like that around Dream. Impulsive, yes; genuinely stupid? No, despite what many liked to believe.

"You still down for this?" The day of the wedding, you find yourselves in a jewellery store, perusing their selection of wedding rings. When he asks this, sincerity in his voice, you turn to him without hesitation, leaning in and kissing him softly.

"I've put a lot of serious thought into it, and though teenage me might be surprised that we're getting married in Vegas, I think somehow they always knew that you'd be in..." you swallowed hard as you looked him in the eyes, overwhelmed at your own sappiness, voice going soft as you correct yourself, "that you'd be my future." The salesman very kindly gives the pair of you space as Dream pulls you close to him.

The ceremony is exactly as cheesy as Hollywood had lead you to believe, much to your delight, though somehow that doesn't detract from the moment you both say 'I do'.

The bed in your hotel is heart-shaped, covered in rose petals, the two of you had spared no expense or trope. At least you make good use of it. And the sofa. And shower. And several other spots in the expensive and beautiful and aptly named Honeymoon Suite. You get your money's worth.

"I think this means LA is our honeymoon," Dream muses over a delicious room-service breakfast the following morning. With a faint huff of laughter, you realise he's right. You've still got over a week left of your vacation, though since you were self employed, you could always take a few more days, if you'd really like to luxuriate in LA.

"Dude, we're married," you mutter with a faint grin from where you're lazing back on the bed with only the sheets for modesty, gazing at him in the morning light.

"We're so married," he agrees, leaning back, away from his tray of food, to kiss you sweetly.

"I kind of don't want to tell anyone," voice soft, you can't help but give a contented little sigh, "not even any of our friends, not until we get back to Florida."

"Just us," he agreed faintly, grinning against your lips as his hands find your bare skin beneath the sheets.

As far as anyone else is concerned, you and Dream took a vacation. He takes photos of you lit by sunset for you to post online - "Wait could you see the ring in that shot? I don't wanna take it off, I'll just put my hand behind my back or something." - and the two of you continue to bully each other on Twitter, and interact with your friends and fans like nothing of real note has happened.

There was paperwork you'd have to fill out, red tape and legalities that come with marriage, but as you're speeding down the highway, you look over and see his hands on the wheel, his ring understated and perfect on his finger.

The world could call you insufferable for being in love, you are the happiest you've ever been. The world could say anything they liked about you, you wouldn't care. Through sheer, dumb luck you'd finally acted on your feelings for each other all those months ago, and you don't think things could have worked out better.

At home, Sapnap hugs you both tightly the minute you step through the door, asking how the trip went. You and Dream had spent so much time theorizing how to break the news, but all of that seemed to have left your heads at his questions. Looking at your now-husband, you raise your eyebrows, while your housemate looks between the two of you with mounting apprehension. Dream nods for you to take the lead. There's that giddiness again, starting in your chest, every time you think about your reality -

"We got married," you're trying not to actively show how overjoyed the single sentence makes you feel, especially not when Sapnap looks like he doesn't quite believe you, blinking rapidly as he looks sharply to Dream for some sort of clarification.

"Legally and everything," and Dream holds up his left hand, an action which you mirror. It takes several seconds before Sapnap's eyes seem to bug out of his head.

"For real?!" And thankfully, he sounds delighted, pulling you both in for another, tighter hug this time when you confirm, again. "Of course- driving through Vegas, of course -" he's rambling, stepping back with a wide, proud smile, "guys," he enthuses. Something about his reaction had you breathing a sigh of relief; you'd been so worried that he'd reprimand you, not trust either of you to have thought this through. But you find yourself remember that he has known you both as long as you'd known each other, he and George had known the two of you had feelings for each other before either you or Dream did, part of him must have known this was coming.

He's a little smug to know that he's the first person either of you had told, though as soon as you get to your room, you and Dream call George to give him the news. His reaction, just as Sapnap's was, was full of pride and joy for you both.

Tomorrow, the paperwork would begin, and you would get back to creating content, but this afternoon, you unpack and unwind from somehow the biggest two weeks of your life, kicking the door closed when you're finally done.

Sitting on his bed by the window you can't help but grin out at the sunrise, soaking up the moment you find yourself in. Dream sprawls out beside you, on his side with his head propped up, something adoring in his gaze.

"I had a dream like this once," you tell him faintly, stretching out, flopping on your back on his bed, the afternoon golden where it pours through the window from the outside world. Reaching up, the gold wedding band glints in the sunlight from it's place on your finger. Beside you, Dream reaches out into the sunlight, his hand by yours, his gold ring being your perfect match; he makes a noise of interest in the back of his throat, and you lower your hand to your chest as you turn to look at him, your smirk sharp, "yeah, we were wearing less clothes."

{finale: don't think i'll ever get enough}