#and i scared the shit outta my cats And me with that damned alarm. and now i am just waiting.

[orcelito]

Super sexy me is so sexy I accidentally set off the fire alarm while baking pie shells for my pumpkin pie. And now I don't know if I should've even baked them in the first place. But well. Too late now 👍

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  Breaking the Curse

Chapter 9:  Birds and Bugs

Just because he was anticipating the breaking of the Curse didn't mean he was going to be stupid about it. There were things in his life that were important, things that he couldn't risk losing, and if a girl like Ashley Boyd could break into his shop, he had to assume others could as well. He'd disabled the camera so that he was safe, but the downside was that now he couldn't use it himself. So, his conclusion was: if it was important, it needed to be transferred elsewhere, somewhere he still considered safe. The morning after the robbery, he'd packed up Bae's shawl, Belle's chipped cup, and the long slim box that held his dagger. He'd gone home and taken those items with him. Now he had to decide what to do with them.

His house was a mess. It always had been. He had hazy memories of it being that way since his aunts died, which meant it had been that way since he'd arrived in Storybrooke. It didn't particularly bother him; he only lived in a few rooms. But it would have bothered Belle. She'd have set herself to cleaning it and keeping it organized. And so, he placed her cup nicely on a table that was more or less uncluttered, somewhere that was safe from his bad habits, a place he could see it every day, but it would appear to simply be a decoration to anyone else. Baelfire's shawl wasn't so much a shawl as it was a scrap of cloth. It looked like a rag, and when he reflected on the life that they'd lived before, he hated to admit it, but the truth was that it was a rag. He folded it as nicely as he could and then set it in a drawer in the kitchen reserved for the rags. It concealed itself.

But as for his dagger…that was going to be harder to hide. For now, it was stashed inside his pillowcase. He went to sleep feeling it beneath his head each night and woke each morning ever aware of its existence. There was something ironic and yet familiar about that. But the pillowcase wouldn't do, not forever. He needed to make alternative plans for it. Bae's shawl and Belle's cup were items he didn't want to lose. But losing the dagger was a lot more dangerous. And without magic, without the ability to constantly feel for it and be aware, he needed something much more creative for it.

He spent the next two days brainstorming ideas for where to hide the dagger and how to hide the dagger. Much like he'd found Maleficent if Regina was watching, he needed to come up with a time when he knew that she would be distracted. That should have been something easily handled, it should have been something he could rely on Dove for, but as of right now, he was having a hard time thinking he could rely on Dove for anything.

The previous night, he'd been in the shop when he'd felt the Earth shake, the power flicker, and heard the sounds of half a dozen car alarms blast to life. He'd sent Dove, who was still tailing Emma, to investigate, and he'd reported a few hours later that the explosion had been in one of the old town mines. Regina was using it as an excuse to finally shutter the mines. He'd thought nothing of it at the time. Something like that seemed too natural for it to be part of the Curse breaking. But he'd been shocked earlier today when Dove had sent him another message today. Henry had gone into the mines. Archie had gone with Emma and Graham to try and get Henry out of the mines when it appeared that somehow Archie and Henry had become trapped inside. Emma, along with half the town, was working to free the pair.

"And Regina is allowing such a thing?" he questioned through a quick text message.

"In all the confusion, I forgot to tell you. Emma Swan was the new deputy, appointed by Graham. Today's her first day."

That was all it had taken to anger him. He was paying Dove good money to watch the girl, paying him to be his eyes and ears. And he'd just "forgotten" to tell him that she'd found a job? A job working for the man that the Evil Queen shared her bed with? A job that gave her access to damn near anything and everything in Storybrooke?! If he'd had magic, Dove would have found himself on the other end of a tight fist. Fortunately for him, there wasn't magic. And he didn't dare show up at the mine site. He had a role to play. Being curious and caring were not words that were in Mr. Gold's dictionary. He couldn't show up at the scene because he wanted to watch, and he couldn't think of a reason to go down on his own.

Dove sent him messages throughout the day, messages that he must have thought he cared for. "Half the town is here working to free the boy." "They found an old shaft they're trying to use as access." "Boy and Doc pulled from the shaft." He didn't care for any of them except for the last one. "Going home," was all it had said. Going home? He nearly laughed out loud at that one. First, he'd forgotten to share crucial information. Then he'd decided to share unimportant information while being certain where the girl was. Now that she was going to be leaving, he was leaving her too. His thinking was backward. And now, to top the encounter off, he'd been sending messages to Dove telling him not to go, to keep watching the girl. Now that Henry was free, he needed to know what Regina's reaction was to her, what Henry wanted to do. But suddenly, Dove had stopped responding to him.

"Home," he'd said. It appeared that Dove needed some reminding of his job. Fortunately for him, he knew where Dove had disappeared to. And better yet, he owned the town, which meant that he happened to have a key to damn near everything, including Dove's apartment.

He sneered at the two useless puppets he kept in his shop, Marco's parents, not that he knew that at the moment. He kept that sneer the entire drive across town. He knocked once on the door, but there was no answer. He had a key. Legally he was the property owner, and if he was worried for the safety of his tenant, he was allowed access. For all he knew, the rush of water he heard coming through the pipes could have drowned out poor Dove's cries if he slipped in the shower. That would hold up in court.

Inside the apartment, he heard nothing but water running through the pipes. The shower was running. Dove's phone, listing his messages, and jacket were left haphazardly on the kitchen counter, along with a can of beer that appeared to have been pulled from the refrigerator. That was all good. That meant he'd be back before falling into bed.

And Dark Ones did love dramatic entrances.

He took a seat across the living room and waited for his time to come. He waited patiently. Patience was his gift, after all. Finally, the moment came. The water in the pipes stopped. There was a pause and then the sound of a door opening. Barely a second later, Dove strode out of the hallway, towel slung across his waist, still wet from the shower. He took it as an opportunity to turn the lamp by his chair on.

"Shit!" Dove cried, jumping nearly six feet and making a motion for his jacket. He preferred not to know, but he suspected he had a gun hidden there. "Fuck!" he cried again when he finally realized who it was. His shoulders relaxed a bit. He stepped away from his jacket. His chest continued to heave. "You scared the shit outta me."

He ignored the language. Nothing he hadn't heard or said before himself, though maybe not word for word. He refused, however, to smile gleefully at the result of his little surprise.

"Remind me why I hired you, Mr. Dove."

"What?"

"Why do I employ you?"

"Sir?"

"You see, I've been asking myself that question all day. Why do I hire you to give me necessary information, and why do I continue to pay you when you don't tell me that important information. Information like…like Emma Swan having a job."

Dove took a breath and shook his head, looking baffled. Did the boy not even understand what he'd done? "I only found out last night, after the mine explosion. Given the circumstances, I thought-"

"I don't pay you to think, Mr. Dove, I pay you to tell me what I do not know," he growled through his teeth. He held up Dove's cell phone, the one that had his unanswered messages on it. "I pay you to answer your phone!" he roared, throwing it at him. The boy managed to catch it before it could shatter on the wall behind him.

"I'm…I'm sorry. It was a long day up at the mines. I was filthy, I needed to-"

"You don't finish your work until I say you have," he interrupted, rising from his seat. "Emma Swan is your assignment. Instead of leaving her at the mine to handle your own…business, you left when she did. Do you even know where she is at this moment?"

"She was just as filthy as the rest of us. I assumed she'd rush right home and take a shower herself."

"This isn't a time for 'assuming,' Mr. Dove. This is a time for knowing. And I need to know everything about that girl. This is a warning…don't disappoint me again." And then, with his assistant good and rattled, he set his sights on the door and-

"Is there something going on?!" Dove shouted at him before he could leave.

He turned to face him again. "Something going on?"

"This is a sleepy town, Mr. Gold. And don't get me wrong, I love my job, but working for you is usually status quo, and now all of a sudden…this girl shows up in town. Storybrooke hasn't seen this much excitement since…I can't remember the last time it's ever seen this much excitement. It's just got me thinking there might be something going on…something you're not telling me."

"I was under the impression, Mr. Dove, that part of your employment included discretion. I don't ask you questions about where you get your information, and you don't ask me questions about the jobs that I have for you," he corrected. "If I'm wrong, perhaps it's time I found a new associate. One of your cousins, perhaps."

Dove stood up a little taller, a little prouder, a feat for someone wearing nothing but a canary yellow towel. "That won't be necessary, Mr. Gold. I'm just…curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat, Mr. Dove. Imagine what it'll do to a bird. Don't make me have to track you down again, Mr. Dove. I find it tedious work, the sort of work I'd prefer to pay you for."

Without another word, he left to go back to his car. But he didn't get far, barely halfway across the parking lot before he heard…crickets! Crickets! The sound caught him off guard, and for a few moments, he couldn't understand why until, off in the distance, he heard the clocktower chime the hour, a noise that was still foreign to him, and he realized. There had never been the sound of crickets in Storybrooke before. Coincidence? Like the mines? Or something more?

Angry as he was, he felt himself smile as he opened his door and slid into the driver's seat. First the clock, then David…now there were crickets. What next, he wondered. What next…

[hainethehero]

13 Reasons Why Season 3... A Monty and Winston Post...

Dressed in dirty, ragged jeans and an old plaid flannel, complete with a duffel bag and several bruises adorning his body, Monty de la Cruz had never felt so out of place in this world. He stood amongst a swarm of Hillcrest's finest students, a red cup in everyone's hand and music blasting as the sun began to set. There's a huge pool, girls in bikinis and guys half naked, grinning and flirting and having the best time. And all Monty can think about, is how he seems to be staining the happy picture.

But he's been looking for Bryce.

His Dad had come home drunk- a typical weekend at the de la Cruz's, and had immediately started a rampage, first at Monty's mother, and then eventually him. Monty could usually just take some hits before the man passed out but tonight, he'd just kept waling on the boy with any and every object he could find. And Monty decided he needed to leave for the night... or at least a couple nights.

Bryce usually let him stay over when things like that happened. But now, the boy always seemed to be ignoring his calls.

A group of bitches pass him, obviously drunk but they still screw up their noses at him and scoff. He turns around and tightens his jaw, fist clenching hard as he begins to panic. He's not getting help anymore, Bryce cut him off- the bastard. He had nowhere to go and barely enough money for two nights at a motel. Jesus fuck how was he gonna-

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

He rounds on the person who'd spoken and immediately pauses, mouth hanging slightly open.

It was Winston, the boy he'd messed with a couple times.

His defense mechanisms come up. "What does it look like I'm doing here, Williams?"

The boy raises a perfectly groomed brow and gestures at Monty's duffel bag with his half-filled cup.

"Definitely not having a good time. You headed somewhere? And why are you bleeding?"

Monty frowns and touches his face where Winston had pointed out. His fingers come away from his right temple with dark blood. He wipes it off and shakes his head, casually.

"Its nothin', alright?"

Winston seems unimpressed. "Sure."

Monty screws up his face and rolls his eyes. "Look, whatever man, you seen Bryce?"

Winston instantly looks displeased, his grey green eyes assessing Monty seriously.

"Bryce? Why're you looking for him?"

"None of your business Williams. Have you seen him or not?"

"No." Winston finally answers, drinking down the last of his alcohol. One of his friends come up to them and gives Monty a scornful look.

"Dude c'mon, Jax is here."

"Yeah in a minute Red."

The corner of Monty's mouth twitches, and he snorts. "Jax?"

Winston nods. "He's sort of an Alpha male around here. One of them anyway."

"And what, you're his bitch?"

"No." Winston answers with a smile. "But he's interested."

Monty scoffs, his bag still swung over his shoulder. He doesn't know why that thought irritates him so much, but it does. Who the fuck was this Jax? Why the fuck was he interested in Winston? Why the fuck was Winston putting himself out there for some other guy? A voice in his head reminds him that he's not with the boy or whatever. And that he needs to calm down.

"I gotta get outta here." He grunts instead, pushing past Winston to leave.

"Hey- wait..." The raven-haired boy calls, hastening after him, tossing the cup into a trash bin on the way. Monty keeps walking.

"Hey," he calls, hand gripping the boy's shoulder so fast that Monty rounds on him with a growl, causing him to freeze. He holds both hands up, assuming a much less threatening stance.

"I'm sorry."

Monty barely looks affronted by his actions however. He just seems incredibly uncomfortable and desperate.

"Whatever."

Winston shakes his head. "No, look- ...do you... d'you wanna go back to my place? Y'know, to chill? I- you- you can stay with me until Bryce shows up I guess?"

There's a subtle change in Monty's expression that almost makes Winston hopeful. The hardened lines of tension on his face gradually soften into something much more calm and his eyes don't have as much heat in them. Now, he just looks tired. Exhausted. And beat into the ground like some discarded piece of garbage that had been rolled over by several cars on a highway.

A couple minutes later, Winston makes good on his offer and takes Monty back to his house. His parents were gone, as usual and he had the entire place to himself. He's grateful and he can tell that Monty is too, the way he just sinks into Winston's bed, clothes and shoes still on. His eyes flutter shut for a minute as Winston shuffles about here and there, doing random things in particular.

The next time Monty comes to, it's still night, but Winston's in different clothing and he himself, is dressed in nothing but his boxers. He frowns, nearly shooting off the bed in apt confusion.

"The hell...?" He mutters, yawning while he frowns at the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Hey," Winston greets, causing Monty to nearly lose his shit.

"The fuck- Jesus man, scared the crap outta me."

A genuine flicker of worry flashes across Winston's face for a moment before he offers the Latinx an uneasy smile.

"I made dinner."

"Dinner? Damn, how long was I out?" Monty groans, stretching lazily like a house cat.

Winston gives him a funny look and swallows hard before speaking. "Monty, you've been out for a day."

The brunette glares at him but his eyes become unfocused. He looks more scared than angry and that irks Winston.

"What? What d'you mean a whole day?"

Winston shrugs from the doorway, arms crossed. "I mean, you've been at my house since Saturday night. It's Sunday now."

Monty looks over to the alarm clock on the nightstand and frowns as the red, glowing, 8:46PM glares back at him. A feeling of dread snakes down his stomach and he buries his head in his hands, perched on the edge of the bed like some kind of worrying statue. Winston approaches him gingerly, moving to eventually stand between the boy's legs, gazing down at him sadly.

"Before you passed out, you told me that... you needed some painkillers. And I asked you if they were for the bruises. And you said maybe. So I gave you two, and then you asked for more. Said that you wanted to OD... then you passed out."

Monty's fingers don't lose their punishing grip on his hair. He keeps pulling until Winston's gentler hands remove them, replacing them on his hips instead. He feels the boy's grip tighten, his nails digging into soft flesh- hisses but doesn't remove the boy's hands. Instead, he cards his own fingers through Monty's short hair, soothing the disturbed strands, petting the boy easily.

"My Dad was on a rampage Saturday. One of his usual, drunken terror-tantrums. Came after me with a hammer, I didn't have a choice. Grabbed some clothes and cash and got the hell outta dodge."

Winston tries his best to conceal the horrified look in his eyes but he can't seem to bring himself to it.

"That's why you were looking for Bryce. You were looking for a place to crash." He surmises instead, heart breaking as Monty buries his face in his stomach, holding on for dear life.

"He used to let me stay in his Grandfather's lakehouse just behind the main mansion... guess he cut me off."

"Why?" Winston asks out of genuine curiosity.

Monty scoffs, voice muffled by the boy's t-shirt.

"Cos I'm a monster."

Winston screws up his face in abject confusion. "According to Bryce... who was charged for raping multiple girls..."

"He's seriously trying to change y'know." Monty mutters defensively, not even sure why he's still protective of Bryce's image. He guessed it was the desperate boy still inside of him; still afraid to lose it all. Afraid that if he didn't have all the help he got from his friendship with Bryce, he would surely fall into ruin at the merciless hands of his father and eventually end up in jail or dead.

"Okay. But what makes you a monster?" Winston urges, his soft voice oddly calming.

Monty closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I've done things, Winston."

"What kind of things?"

"Terrible things. I'm the typical mean jock at every high school and no matter how much I try to be a good person... things- ...things never seem to work out that way. I can never change. As long as I'm trapped in that house with my Dad, I know it's only a matter of time before I turn out to be just like him."

He's sobbing by the time he's finished, tears soaking into Winston's shirt. The boy just holds him tighter, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, telling him that it would all be okay and that he was there.

"There's good in everybody. Trust me." He murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of the brunette's head.

"Not me... how can you even say that? After what I did to you at that party-"

"You were in a bad place then. I don't hold it against you. I would never do that."

"Why?" Monty demands through gritted teeth and he's finally staring straight into Winston's eyes this time.

Winston frowns for a second. "Why wouldn't I hold it against you?"

"No- why d'you care? Why d'you even give a shit about my sorry ass?"

The boy thinks hard for a moment, biting his lower lip before grinning slightly. "It's a nice ass."

The amused snort from Monty seems to be in complete contrast to the tears streaming down his face but it doesn't seem weird. It looks... right.

"You're an idiot, Winston Williams."

Winston grins cheekily down at the boy before growing somber again.

"But I'm your idiot, right?"

Hazel eyes glisten up at him, carrying the emotion of a thousand heartbeats as Monty nods shakily, unused to such tenderness.

"Yeah of course. Mine."

The raven-haired boy can't help the stupid giggle that bubbles from his throat as he lowers himself to press a gentle kiss to Monty's bruised lips. The brunette closes his eyes and sighs into the liplock, giving himself a break as all the tension releases from his body. The gash splitting his brow didn't even bother him that much anymore.

"And what am I?" He asks the boy, just out of curiosity, because his restless heart and soul could never truly be sure of what was affection from tolerance. "To you?"

Winston considers him for a moment, that endearing smile still on his face as his eyes sparkle. He settles in bed, with Monty curled up against him, head on his chest, idle fingers playing with his t-shirt.

"You're-" He starts but then pauses when those hauntingly beautiful eyes blink up at him, hopeful. Then he smiles and kisses Monty on the forehead.

"You're everything."

[izzy-b-hands]

Fictober 2019, Oct. 30th, “I’m With You, You Know That.”

Fanfiction

Fandom: The Pacific

Pairings: Eugene “Sledgehammer” Sledge/Merriell “Snafu” Shelton

Rating: T (for mild description of a PTSD dream, though I don’t really go into any detail, so maybe this is a bit strong of a rating??) 

Warnings: See above in rating, but again, I don’t go into detail, so I think this should be safe for p much everyone!

736 words

Just sweet, boys leaning on each other to feel safe in this one. 

For the most part, he woke up at the start of any nightmares Eugene had. But he’d been feeling sick, sleeping heavier than usual, and now he woke to Eugene already deep in the throes of one.

His eyes were shut, but he was shouting at various enemies that weren’t there, limbs flailing, sweat dripping off of him, and tears rolling down his face. 

“Gene,” Snafu tried to wrap an arm around Eugene. “You’re okay. All good and safe, I promise.” 

Eugene stopped thrashing, instead clinging to him like a drowning man. 

“I’m with you, you know that,” Snafu soothed softly, holding Eugene tight until his shouts turned to whimpers and muffled sobs. “Just you and me, here in our room. We’re safe. Us, and the cats, and the dog, only ones in the house.” 

It was another ten minutes before Eugene was back, pulling gently away from him, eyes glittering with tears.

“Hey,” Snafu said gently. “You okay?” 

He knew he wasn’t, but it was always better to ask and pretend the answer was yes. It was a small thing they did for each other in those moments, but it was important. 

Eugene looked exhausted, and curled up close to him. 

“Okay. We can talk about it whenever you’re ready, if you want. I can talk for both of us for now,” Snafu said. “Hell, you know that already.” 

That got him a small smile from Eugene.

“What can I talk about...gotta be somethin’ good. Only good things right now. Say, I ever tell you how nervous you made me, first time we met?” 

Eugene shook his head.

“Well, I sure was. You walk into our tent, and take my breath away like that. Got me yellin’ at myself in my head, ‘Snafu, you can’t fall for the first gorgeous guy that wanders in.’ And then you had to go and be all adorable, standin’ there, greener than the grass after a storm, and I...” he sighed. “I was so damn nervous with those butterflies in my stomach I got from lookin’ at you, that all I could think to do was be an ass. Not an excuse...but I didn’t wanna say something stupid and make you think I was...I don’t know...” 

“That’s what that was all about? Tossin’ your shit all over,going ‘taken’, ‘taken’, ‘taken’?” Eugene laughed softly. 

“Yeah,” Snafu snorted, and shook his head. “Lucky you even gave me the time of day after that.” 

“Was kind of intriguing, in a weird way,” Eugene replied, sitting up beside him.

“Oh, I can imagine. ‘Hey this guy is an asshole; I can’t wait to get to know him better’,” Snafu laughed. 

Eugene smiled. “Somethin’ like that, I guess. I was already scared as all get out, being there, wantin’ to find Sid, then I meet you...” 

“What?” 

Eugene shook his head and chuckled. “And I couldn’t get outta my head how you looked. Even though you were covered in muck and sweaty-” 

“Such compliments! Was it that or the oozing wounds on my foot that really turned you on?” 

“Shut it,” Eugene teased. “Anyway! But there you were handsome and shirtless to boot and...couldn’t get you outta my head. Glad I got to know you better, I know that much. Would have missed out on living my best life, if I hadn’t.” 

It was a combination of seeing Eugene happy again, and the overwhelming sweetness of his words that left Snafu almost breathless, with only one word that he could manage before he kissed Eugene. “Same.” 

As he pulled away, Eugene sighed. “How close is it to the alarm going off?” 

Snafu peeked over at the clock. “...you don’t wanna know.” 

“Shit.” 

“Yeah,” Snafu said. “Tell you what, you try and sleep some more, and-” 

“Can’t sleep,” Eugene said bluntly. Not harshly, but strongly enough to make it clear he didn’t want to be talked into trying to lay back down again. 

“Early breakfast then?” 

“It’s what, three in the morning?” Eugene smiled. 

“Was gonna start it at four thirty, after I got up. No harm in startin’ it a little bit early.” 

It confused the hell out of the cats and dog, but ultimately no one questioned the early breakfast and overall start to the day. 

Getting to watch the sunrise with Eugene, while he smoked his pipe and looked too comfortable and adorable for words? That was just icing on the cake.

[kfawkes]

Could you write some married eggsy and reader pretty please?

[MARRIED EGGSY AND READER!!!! Oh man this is gonna be so much fun. I feel like… I want to make a bunch of these little shorter ones for this. Cause I always go SOOO fucking ham with my Eggsy x Readers for some reason and CREATE SO MUCH EXTRA LIKE WHY AM I LIKE THIS hahahah. This one is much shorter by comparison, and super fluffy with some smut as well because I couldn’t help myself. Hope you like!

Pairing: Eggsy X Reader

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Cursing, some smut? Yeah some smut!

—Read on Ao3!]

If there was one thing you knew about yourself, it was that you did not want to get married. Ever. Getting married, having a family that whole… thing. Let’s just say it was a lot. Just, not really your cup of tea so to say.

It wasn’t that you disliked children or dating. It was that you could never imagine finding another human you loved so much you wanted to spend the rest of your life with them. It was hard enough for you to share your bed and living space with someone else… How could you actually be expected to share your entire life with another person?

The truth is you couldn’t. You never thought that would change either… But there were a lot of things you used to ‘know’ about yourself before you met Eggsy.

Before you met that cheeky son of a bitch, you’d have said you would live your life out with 20 cats and be completely content with that– more than content even. That you’d spend your youth galavanting and breaking hearts. Or maybe you’d live in France and learn how to make wine while writing a book or something just as dramatic and starving artist like.

You had a lot of ideas about what your life would be like, where you’d end up… the things you’d do. And you can honestly say that this was the last thing you expected.

But here you were… married and very much enjoying it.

To Eggsy fucking Unwin of all people and if there was one thing you could say about being married to a man like that?

It’s that it was fucking amazing.

Maybe being married to someone else would have been the hell you always imagined, but being with Eggsy was pure perfection. He fit you like a puzzle piece and there wasn’t a day that passed where you weren’t laughing your ass off with him. There wasn’t a night where you two weren’t wrapped between those sheets, pressed warm skin to skin… and there wasn’t a minute where you weren’t incandescently and utterly in love.

Every day with Eggsy was just like a dream, and you really did know how cheesy and awful that sounded… If 16 year old you met the married you now, they would have probably slapped you and laughed in your face.

Okay, they definitely would have– 16 year old you was a total bitch.

But you’d just hit that version of yourself back and tell 'em how fucking wrong they were. How in a few years they’d meet someone that could fill that hole and would make every bit of darkness disappear. You’d tell them they were just scared of love and commitment… But that once that person came along– everything would be alright. That they’d know and wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore.

That you weren’t afraid anymore.

Good thing you got to skip that part though, because current you was very much enjoying the married life and all of its benefits. One of which was a very handsome husband– that was not in bed right now with you…

“Baby?” Your voice was croaky from a night of sleeping and… other things. You eyed the empty space beside you as you rub your tired eyes drifting into consciousness.

When you slid your eyes to the clock it read 8:03 am. Eggsy was usually asleep well past 10 on the weekends. So… just where was he?

“Eggy?” You called again as you slipped from your covers being sure not to disturb JB or Prince from their slumber at the foot of the bed.

After kissing and offering them both soft pats you placed the first shirt you could find over your chilled skin; one of Eggsy’s button ups. After you found your slippers you made your way from the room with a yawn and long stretch. Once you reached the base of the stairs you could smell and hear the soft sizzling of bacon echoing in the kitchen.

“What you doin’ up… get back t’bed, yeah?” Eggsy threatened teasingly with a smile slipping from the corner of his lips as he flip each piece of bacon on the skillet; extra crispy, just the way you liked it.

“What am I doing? What are you doing? Is Eggsy Unwin actually cooking right now? Where is my phone– I need to document this, Merlin’ll never believe me if I don’t…” You teased back as you made your way towards the coffee machine, he’d already had your favorite mug sitting next to the fresh pot. But of course he did.

When you looked back to him the face he held was one of the cutest you’d seen him wear; and you’d seen that man make a lot of faces over the years. Eggsy was focusing so hard that his brows were lowered into a fine line with his tongue poking just slightly out of the corner of his mouth. He didn’t realize the flour decorating his forehead either and you couldn’t help but smile and wonder how the fuck you got so lucky?

“Gonna make me say it again, Mrs. Unwin?” He repeated with a wink as he check the waffles in the iron, then the pan cooking eggs.

“Course I am. When have I ever made anything easy for you?” You smiled walking closer to him holding two cups of fresh coffee. Eggsy grabbed his mug– an orange T-Rrex in a suit of course, then wrapped his free arm around your waist; pulling you closer.

When you felt him against your chest, that same wave spread over you and for a moment you weren’t in your kitchen anymore. You were somewhere else entirely and you were reminded yet again that Eggsy really was it for you. The one everyone always told you you’d find…

You’d had that very same feeling ever since you met him, and now even after 2 years of blissful marriage, you still had it– stronger than ever.

Every. Single. Time.

“Never.” With a smile he kissed you finally. Softly at first, but with more feeling as the seconds passed; and damn did it feel just as good now as it did then. “But, I ain’t jokin’ luv. Be a good girl an’ get up there, will ya?”

“What are you gonna do to me if I don’t? Are you going to punish me, Mr. Unwin?” You whispered innocently in his ear as he lifted you to the bar, placing himself between your thighs like clockwork.

Eggsy pressed the tip of his tongue to the bottom of his teeth as he raised a brow, eyeing you like you were the meal. The look he held behind his eyes was fervent, almost desperate and all of a sudden you couldn’t have him soon enough.

He slid his hand between your legs, running his fingers over you softly as he whispered. “If that’s what you want, luv.”

You pressed into him harder with eyes closed, feeling each soft motion bringing you closer to release… Each movement done perfectly and just when you were about to—

“Ah, shit!” Eggsy yelled pulling from you as the fire alarm began blaring loudly in your ears. “Exactly why you should be in bed, innit?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, pulling your hands to cover your mouth bashfully. “Typical. Blaming me for your almost burning the house down…”

“You ain’t gettin’ outta this one, babe. Everythin’ was perfect ‘til you got down here, wasn'it?” By the time Eggsy finished both dogs were at his feet, barking softly at the noise. He signaled towards them then back to you with a playfulness behind his eyes and in his tone. “Now you done it.”

The alarm settled, and the both JB and Prince slunk back upstairs to continue their slumber in peace. When you looked to Eggsy again, you held that same fevered look from before as you leaned back on the bar with head tilted slightly. “Am I in trouble then?”

Eggsy narrowed his eyes as he turned slowly towards you. He pulled his bottom lip in tasting you on them as he stepped forward with a fire behind his eyes. When he reached you he placed both hands to your hips and pulled you into his quickly.

“That what you want, Mrs. Unwin?” He whispered in your ear as he slid a hand up the back of the shirt you were wearing, pressing his nails lightly across your skin.

“Every day… for the rest of my fucking life, Mr. Unwin.” You wore a wholesome smile as you wrap both arms around his neck staring into those gorgeous azure eyes dotingly.

“That’s a pretty good answer, babe.” Eggsy smiled kissing you again as he pulled you closer getting lost in every inch of you. Paying no attention to the lingering smoke, or the smell of blackened bacon…

It was just you and it was just this.

And if there was one thing you knew about yourself, it was that you didn’t know shit. You may never have wanted to get married, or be madly in love… but here you were and now that it was yours, you weren’t letting go. Ever.