#the file name is only slightly an exaggeration

[nonexistent-introvert]

Bad mood

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: fluff, jealous Miguel, the getting injured trope AGAIN, swearing. hobie and the gang messing around, lyla playing matchmaker

A/N: i got carried away oops. He may be off character im sorry but i really think this man needs some fluff.

   “What’s up with her?” Gwen asked, watching as you stomped through headquarters with a frown. “Everyone got their bad days,” Pavitr stated, chomping on his Spiderman 2099-themed burger. “Remind me not to get on her bad side.” Gwen watched as the other Spidermen scurried out of your way. “She could match up to Miguel's bad temper..”Peter stood with an amused smile with Mayday napping in the baby carrier he had on his front. 

=========================. 

   You were not having it at all the entire week. You were busy enough with the missions you had and now, you still had to babysit a man-child. Now, you stood in said man-child’s office, watching his platform slowly descend while he kept his back facing towards you like he was in some cliche spy movie and was trying to hide his identity from you. You could almost picture him saying the iconic “I’ve been expecting you” and turned around. You rolled your eyes at the sight of him, your patience thinning with every passing second.

   “Hey! Perfect timing!” Lyla waved frantically from her side beside Miguel. Miguel grunted and groaned, waving Lyla away. Lyla popped up in front of your face and you instinctively took two steps back at how close she was to you. “Miguel’s not getting help- again.” Lyla rolled her eyes at the last word. Lyla popped up next to Miguel again, pointing at his side and the blood that was slowly dripping down from the gash. You could hear Miguel curse in Spanish and grunt before turning away from you further in an attempt to hide his injury. You simply closed your eyes, taking a few calming breaths. 

   “O’Hara. Go to the med-bay.” You stated in a low voice. “I’m fine, Lyla’s exaggerating-” Miguel stopped talking when his eyes met your figure. There was a menacing aura around you, one that Miguel will not admit scared him. “O’Hara” You warned and he shuddered slightly at the mention of his last name. You only used his last name when you were mad at him or trying to annoy him and he doubted it was the latter. You slammed the files you were holding onto the floor. “Lyla, make sure he doesn’t injure himself further. I’ll be back.” You simply said before waltzing right out of his office again. “Will do!” Lyla shouted after you. “Great! You pissed her off. Way to go Lyla!” Miguel said sarcastically as he sat down on the chair while his platform was still in the midst of descending. “Don’t push the blame, Miguel. It’s you she is mad at. I can’t believe you even managed to piss her off! She used to be all smiley and stuff and now she’s acting like you with the permanent scowl on her face.” Lyla nagged. 

   Miguel’s jaw dropped at your request when you returned. He stared at the wheelchair that you had just pushed into his office. “I can walk perfectly fine.” He insisted, trying his best to stand as straight as possible while holding the cloth to his side. “It was already a fucking miracle you didn’t bleed out while you waited for the stupid platform to descend. You still wanna tempt fate?” You asked, staring at the white cloth that you had brought him slowly turn into a crimson-red cloth. “I don’t- can’t you bring the supplies needed to treat me here? Or?” Miguel trailed off, noticing the glare on your face. 

   He sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat before he sat down begrudgingly onto the wheelchair. 

  =====

   Miguel’s face burned in embarrassment while he sat in the wheelchair. His face was almost as red as the bloodied cloth that he was still holding to his side. Judgemental glances were passed around any of the rooms that he passed while you pushed him in the wheelchair. He did try to gauge your reaction but all he noticed was your very tight grip on his wheelchair and scowl on your face. Maybe Lyla was right, you were turning out to be a grump like him. 

   “Everyone saw that right?” Pavitr’s choked on the fries he was eating, as he watched you push an injured Miguel on a wheelchair. “I- I don’t think I can take him seriously again.” Gwen found it hilarious to see Miguel in a wheelchair acting like a pouty child that had just been scolded but it was also combined with the shock and disbelief of seeing the usual stoic leader sitting in a wheelchair. “Heh, I knew he was scared of her,” Peter remarked. Pavitr and Gwen turned to look at Peter, “Hey, when she’s angry, she’s a force to be reckoned with.” He spoke in experience although Peter will never tell anyone what he did to piss you off. For now, he could only pray that Miguel doesn’t get burned in the flames of your anger.     “I’ll help!” A medic immediately came forward when you entered the med bay. Miguel stared intently at you, you sighed, he had only came on one condition. That you were the one to patch him up, you couldn’t even wash your hands off Miguel O’Hara if you wanted to. “No.” You simply said before pushing him off to a private ward. 

   “Lie down.” You instructed. Miguel did as you told, turning his head so he can watch you put on the gloves and your usual white lab coat you wore when you helped out in the med-bay. 

“Dizziness, anything yet?” You asked, the anger in your tone has simmered but is not fully gone. He recognized the tone, it was a professional tone of a doctor. “Um no-?” He frowned, “I already told you- I’m fine-” Miguel stopped again when you took the bloodied cloth from him and his suit immediately covered his skin back up. “Remove the fucking projection O’hara.” You cursed, taking the resources you needed. “You know I’m-” “Just the top.” You answered, pinching the bridge of your nose. Miguel’s suit slowly revealed his skin to you and you had to take a breath. You always forgot that he literally had muscles that seemed to be sculpted by a skilled clay artist. 

  You heartlessly sprayed the alcohol into his wound to sanitize it. Miguel’s muscles tightened as he groaned, arching his back ever so slightly at the burn. “You weren’t gonna give me a heads up?” He gritted out through clenched teeth. “I thought you would prefer to get it over with.” You stated plainly, hiding the intention that you wanted to get back at him for acting like a child.”Can’t you be more gentle?” He complained when you did your work. You gave him an annoyed look, “I could knock you out.” You suggested. “That may help.” He looked over to you, trying his best to hold back his pained grunts. “I will actually knock you out with my hands to get a few moments of silence.” Miguel remained silent as his fists clenched by his side. 

   Your fingers traced against one of his old injuries, staring at the abomination of messily done stitches you were sure Miguel stubbornly did on himself. “Fucking hell.” You cursed out loud. “I ran out of drugs” He replied sheepishly, the drug he relied on to help him close the wound instead of stitching a would hold traditionally. “You didn’t think to- I don’t know, visit the Med-bay? In the very headquarters, you set up?” You asked sarcastically.

  “It turned out fine,” Miguel argued. “Yeah? And you’re already on the verge of ripping the stitches out yourself.” You snarked. “I don’t even want to know how you managed to angle yourself to stitch this up” Your head pounded with a headache while you redid his stitches. 

  Miguel O’Hara was a constant headache you couldn’t get rid of. 

 ========

   When Miguel finally got back to the comfort of his office. He sighed in relief having argued with you about resting in his office instead of the Medbay. “Lyla!” You called out, Miguel still in the wheelchair in front of you. “Yes!” She appeared before you, chuckling at the sight of Miguel. “No missions for two weeks. And make sure he’s in bed by 10pm” you instructed. Miguel clicked his tongue in annoyance as he climbed back into his office chair while Lyla reassured you that she will keep a close eye on Miguel and will inform you if he misbehaved. 

   When you turned to leave, he held onto your wrist. His grip was firm but not tight enough to hurt you. He suddenly soothed the crease in between your eyebrows when you frowned. You looked at him in disbelief. What the hell is he up to now? “You look prettier without the frown.” He simply said with a soft look. “Are the drugs kicking in?” You asked, still taken aback at his sudden actions. Miguel cursed internally at himself, did he just attempt to flirt? He was way too rusty when it came to this.  

   “Are you mad at me?” He asked with a soft tone. You closed your eyes, “Just-rest, and leave me alone.” You sighed. “Are you mad at me?” He repeated again, this time with the usual authority in his voice. The tone he used with the other Spidermen. You looked up at him, he didn’t scare you anymore. 

   “Are you blushing?” You pointed out the pink tint on his cheeks. His eyes widened, “Vasodilation is common when you’re injured no?” He made up an excuse. Miguel smirked lightly when he saw the ends of your lips quirk up slightly. “Sure…” you said, not pushing him further. Even if he wished you did. 

   “Big boss!” Miguel groaned at Hobie’s voice. 

   You naturally smiled at Hobie as you returned the two-finger sauté he gave to you in greeting. Miguel noticed it of course, how easily your frown went away when you saw Hobie. “Oh, you left your jumper at my place dear.” Hobie reminded while you walked out. “Shit man, I’ll swing around soon for it. It’s my favorite.” You laughed. Hobie grinned, “I know it is. Even took the liberty to wash it for ya.” 

   When you left, let’s just say Hobie got the brunt of Miguel’s temper. 

======

   “Miguel!” You called out to him upon entering his office. “Yes, I am not moving around Lyla,” Miguel replied mindlessly. You laughed, in a much better mood than last week. “I’m glad to hear that Miguel!” Miguel’s head turned at record speed, his eyes widening at the sight of you, and how the usual smile you always had seemed to have made its way back onto your face, replacing the frown that you wore last week. 

   Miguel, he missed hearing his name fall from your lips. Miguel turned in his seat, “Are you feeling better?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He chuckled lightly, pressing on the screens before him. “I’m fine. Like I have always told you.” He replied, his eyes scanning your frame.

   Miguel noticed the jumper you wore over your spider suit. He also knew that it was the jumper you always wore, and it may just be the jumper that Hobie mentioned last week. “Why the long face?Mad that you’re stuck indoors?” You asked with a teasing grin. Miguel let out a huff, “You need to focus on the missions.” He stated sternly. “Am I not?” You frowned, you were pretty sure you were on track on your missions. Miguel simply shot you a glance over his broad shoulders, “I don’t think any of the missions require you to go to Hobie’s dimension does it?” He questioned with his eyebrows raised in suspicion. “What I do in between missions is none of your business Miguel.” You folded your arms over your chest in defense. Miguel tried his best to pretend that those words didn’t bruise him by busying himself with the orange screens in front of him. 

  “Is that jealousy I sense?” Lyla popped out of thin air, teasing Miguel.

 “There’s no rule stating that a Spiderman aren’t allowed to go over to other spidermen dimensions right?” 

   “I thought it was an unspoken rule,” Miguel replied, he knew about how many of the spidermen tend to travel to other dimensions for the fun of it. He understood that his headquarters served as a place of social hangout for the Spidermen and that many of them have formed friendships with each other, meaning that they spent time together in different dimensions outside of missions. He couldn’t bring himself to make it a strict rule that traveling to different dimensions was prohibited. However, it was known to be heavily discouraged and that spidermen would take responsibility for any consequences. 

   “I’m sorry.” you apologized, pushing yourself off the wall you were leaning on. Miguel closed his eyes, trying to erase the guilt he felt upon seeing the look on your face. You approached him upon seeing that his platform has finally descended. A smirk tugged on your lips as you pulled the wheelchair that was on the platform in front of his chair. 

   “I made sure he will only move around in that wheelchair and that was enough to keep him in here.” Lyla proudly announced. You bit back a smile at the pink tint across Miguel's cheeks. “I don’t think they will ever get over it.” You laughed, the cafeteria still buzzed with the news upon seeing their boss in a wheelchair. 

   Miguel was wearing a black t-shirt instead of his usual suit. Miguel naturally lifted up his black shirt for you. “It looks good.” You simply commented, trying your best to not blush at the sight of his body. “It better be.” Miguel snarled. “Then I guess I’m off work early today!” You celebrated, grinning as you pulled his shirt down, your fingertips gracing his muscles ever so slightly. 

   A look of disappointment flashed across Miguel’s face. You didn’t notice but Lyla did. “Just ask her already.” Lyla rolled her eyes. “Ask me what?” You immediately asked, A curious glint in your eye. Miguel waved his hands frantically trying to shoo Lyla away. “Nothing.” He says. 

  Lyla groans as she appears on the other side of Miguel. “He’s been dying to find out “ Miguel swatted her hologram away, “Are you and Hobie a thing?” Lyla finally forced out. Miguel’s shoulders slumped in defeat while silence filled the office. 

   The silence only filled the office for a few moments that lasted way too long in Miguel’s opinion before you burst into laughter. “Me and Hobie?-” Miguel has never felt more embarrassed than now as you kept on laughing at the fact that Miguel thought that Hobie and you were dating. “It’s none of my business.” Miguel cleared his throat. “Why did you even think that?” You questioned, trying your best to hold back your laughter. “Well, he makes you smile and laugh.” 

  “Miguel, I laugh and smile at anything.” You deadpanned. “He just seems to be able to make you happy even when you’re down,” Miguel stated plainly. “You know? Because you smiled at Hobie despite being grumpy the whole of last week?” Lyla reminded, getting impatient with the pace of the conversation. Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you realised what Miguel meant. “Oh, that’s because I was mad at you and not him.” You said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So I was right, you were mad at me.” You nodded. “Can I finally know why?” Miguel’s eyes were boring into yours. You leaned back against the wheelchair, turning your head as you sighed. 

   “Because I was fucking worried Miguel.” You rubbed your nose with your knuckles. It was a nervous habit of yours. “You were getting injured left and right and then you work non-stop to finish up on the reports. To make matters worse, you even head out for more missions afterward and refuse to let anyone help you. You’re not a fucking machine Miguel, you need the rest.” Miguel’s eyes widened, he never knew that his unhealthy work habits were noticed by you. He kept quiet until you finally met his eyes. “I’m sorry cariño.” Miguel muttered, “I didn’t mean to make you worried.” He says while his hand gently caresses your knee. 

   A mischievous glint lit up in his eyes. “No, no. I don’t know what you’re thinking but no.” You immediately recognized that look in his eyes. He chuckled lightly, glancing over to Lyla for moral support. Lyla jumped with poms-poms in her hands, egging him on like a cheerleader. “I’ll rest even better and for a longer period of time. Under one condition.” He proposed. You raised your eyebrows at him in question. 

   “You go out on a date with me.” There, he finally asked you out. 

    Your eyes widened and your hand immediately went to cover your face in an attempt to hide the blush that was creeping onto your cheeks. The wheelchair you were sitting on slowly rolled backward in your shock. Miguel chuckled, stopping the wheelchair right before it rolls away from him. “You can’t leave me hanging like this cariño.” 

   “Stop with the cariño, I can’t think properly when you call me that.” You answered flusteredly. Miguel smirked, “And why is that?” You wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face so badly. 

    “Fine, Ok! I’ll go out with you!” You shouted, standing up abruptly from the wheelchair. Your ears were turning red from how flustered you were. The sound of fireworks filled the office thanks to Lyla while you walked out. Miguel trying his best to not laugh at how flustered you were. “See you at 8pm this evening!” He shouted after you just as you walked out in utter embarrassment. 

----

Bonus: "Miguel will kill you." Gwen stated. The group was gathered around a picture that Hobie was holding, a picture of Miguel O'hara himself pouting while sitting in a wheelchair. "He won't" Hobie shrugged confidently. "Not when the photo is taken by" Hobie gestures to you, bouncing on your feet nervously while you waited for your coffee to be served. "They went on a date?" Peter exclaimed in surprise, Hobie gave him a confirming nod.

"Who on earth started this," Miguel sighed, getting more and more irritated by the second while staring at the noticeboard that was in the cafeteria. You simply laughed at the title. "What is big boss up to this week?" Below it was pictures of Miguel in a wheelchair, him sitting in his office in comfortable clothes and the last picture was a picture of him in a formal western suit with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. The same bouquet that was in a flower pot in your house now.

[604to647]

Husband Material

3.1K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: You come home drunk after a fun night out and Tim takes care of you.

This one shot is based on that Tiktok trend where girls refer to their boyfriends as their “husband” to see what their reaction will be 🤭🤭

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI pls) but it’s all fluff!  Maybe Tim gets a little handsy when he helps reader undress 🤷🏻‍♀️ (she’s into it). Drunk reader, consumption of Chinese food. Established relationship, petnames (Shutterbug, gorgeous, baby), soft!Tim. Reader wears a dress and heels (but they hurt her feet).

A/N: After writing Marine Attraction, I couldn’t shake the Tim brainrot so I decided to start a non-linear series of fluffy one-shots for Detective Rockford and his Shutterbug – the series will be called The Rockford Portfolio (… you know, like The Rockford Files but ‘Portfolio’ because reader takes photos 😁😁)

Masterlist

Photography aesthetic dividers by @saradika-graphics 😍

Tim pushes his reading glasses up his nose as his settles in under the fluffy duvet cover, two of your matching pillows propped up comfortably behind his back, ready to dive into his book.  You’re not home yet, but Tim doesn’t mind waiting up.  Since the two of you exchanged keys six month ago, he’s probably spent more time at your place than his own – he prefers the warmth of your apartment, with the soft décor and personal touches that remind him so much of you to the cold, sparse feel of his own place.  He had originally worried that you might mind that most days he comes straight here after his long day at the precinct, but you hadn’t minded one bit. 

You didn’t mind making room in your closet for his sharp, if slightly monochromatic suits among your more colourful wardrobe.  You didn’t even mind the gun lock box that sits on the top shelf of that same closet; a safe place for Tim’s service firearm where it remains for you, out of sight, out of mind.  You certainly didn’t mind the permanent home his gun holster had found on your bed post – within arm’s reach should the mood strike you to see it frame your boyfriend’s broad shoulders.  And if the little pile of police paperwork that lives on a corner of your dining room table or any of the other little ways you’ve made room for him in your place didn’t convince him, you would tease that you’d never dare keep him from reading his way through your Agatha Christie collection.

It tickles you to no end that your big bad police detective boyfriend spends all day solving mysteries, only to choose to spend his free time reading books about detectives solving mysteries.  When you shared your amusement with Tim, he had winked at you, tapped his finger against his temple and recited, “If the little grey cells are not exercised, they grow the rust.”  So delighted at Tim quoting your favourite Christie hero you had immediately attacked his face with your lips, planting breathy butterfly kisses over every inch of his handsome face, the book he was reading consequently knocked to the ground and forgotten for the rest of the evening in lieu of decidedly less bookish activities.

He’s right in the middle of a Hercule Poirot soliloquy when he hears the front door open and then your loud, breathy giggle as you bump into the foyer table; shortly after, your keys jingle when dropped in the key bowl, clinking with his own that he had placed in the same bowl several hours earlier.  Tim listens to you struggle a bit with kicking off your shoes, realizing you must finally be free of your work heels when you let out an exaggerated sigh of relief as your tired feet touch the cool hardwood.  He emerges from the bedroom just in time to see you wobblily padding towards the kitchen and grins to himself - you’re drunk.  Tim calls your name softly and when you see your handsome boyfriend smiling at you, delicious and all at home in your apartment, wearing only a wifebeater and his boxers, your eyes open wide – you were on a way to get a snack, but he’s a snack. 

“Timmy!!!!!” you launch yourself in those strong, muscular arms that you know will feel so good around your tired body; Tim catches you easily and envelopes you in his welcoming embrace, his grin only getting wider – you only call him ‘Timmy’ when you get tipsy.  You've been so excited to go out with some old work colleagues that didn’t work at your firm anymore, finally able to arrange a get-together that worked with everyone’s busy schedules.  Evidently you had a great time tonight – Tim’s glad, he pulls you in for a soft, tender hello kiss before steering you over to the kitchen where you were undoubtedly headed to get something to eat.  Sitting you down at the breakfast counter, he fetches you a fresh glass of water and two preventative Advils, and encourages you to tell him all about your evening while he heats up a plate in the microwave.

“What’s that?  You made me food?” you exclaim, giddy.

Tim chuckles, “Nothing fancy like that, Shutterbug.  I ate dinner at the precinct and brought home my Chinese takeout leftovers.  Just plated it so I could heat it up quickly for you when you got home – figured you’d want an après bar snack.”

He’s so sweet.  And thoughtful.  And hot, you smile dopily as you thank him.

“You know, gorgeous, I could have come picked you up,” Tim looks over at you from the open microwave door.

“You’re so sweet, baby!  I know you would have, but you’ve been working so hard on the Pie case – I knew you would already be working late, and I knew we would be late too with all the picture taking.  I didn’t want you to get home and then have to go out again.  It was easy enough to share a cab.  Oh!  That reminds me – I gotta check in with the group chat.”

Your fingers are still flying over your phone keyboard as Tim places a plate of steaming hot Chinese food in front of you – you smile gratefully up at him.

Tonight’s night out had been double duty for you – in addition to seeing some friends that you haven’t seen in forever, a local food blog that features your photos regularly had put out a call for cocktail photos, so your group had gone out with the mission of trying as many different mixed drinks as possible. 

As he always does after you go out and shoot photos, Tim sits next to you and listens to you as you swipe through your camera roll and happily chirp about the pictures you took: the subjects, lens choices, angles and lighting options.  He does his best to concentrate on the pretty pictures on your screen but can’t help stealing glances at your sweet face, alight with enthusiasm and joy.

Finally putting your phone down, you start to dig into your cooled down food as you catch Tim up on the rest of your night, tipsily chatting non-stop in between bites of delicious, greasy food:

“Ok remember when I told you about Vicky’s deadbeat boyfriend who she basically carried through her internship?  He apparently tried applying for a job at her new boyfriend’s restaurant??!”

“Guess what they had on the menu, baby??  A flight of spareribs – isn’t that such a cute idea?  I thought, ohhh Tim would love this, he can never choose between crispy and bbq. Ha!”

“And she ended up getting two dogs from the shelter!  Do you ever thing about getting a dog?  I kind of wish we had a dog but we’re both so busy…”

“… should have made him clean the toilets, is what I said.”

“Ooo!  Dumplings!”

“They had that Chablis we liked so much at that wine bar in New York!  I didn’t get any because we were only getting cocktails for my photos.  But no one ever has Chablis – we need to go back!”

“So then you’ll never guess what she said: I would rather eat a lightbulb.”

Your unrestrained laughter rings throughout the kitchen, eyes twinkling in mirth, thoroughly amused by you and your friends’ antics.  You’re leaning back in your chair, your feet resting in Tim’s lap as he rubs your sore feet, the very picture of happiness that Tim imagines whenever the stress and realities of his work threaten to envelope him and he needs a little light to guide him forward.

With amazement, Tim watches as you gracefully manipulate your chopsticks and pick up cube after cube of salt and pepper fried tofu and pop them in your mouth, your elegant movements belying your state of inebriation, “Sounds like you had a great time tonight, Shutterbug.”

“Oh we did!  I miss those girls so much.  It’s hard for us to find a time to all get together but when we do it’s always soooo much fun!  We just pick up like we used to when we were all juniors at the firm, it was perfect… well except for those two guys that couldn’t take a hint.  Yeesh.”

“What guys?” Tim looks up, eyes darkening, his big, firm hands stop their caressing of your arches.

You wave your chopsticks wildly in the air, as if to dismiss his concern, “Just a couple of guys at the bar that kept sending us drinks.  We kept sending them back.”  You wiggle your feet in Tim’s grip and he catches on – immediately starting to massage them again.

“Did they give you any trouble?”

“Not really.  Too laughable to be trouble – they came over before dessert was brought out to ask why we didn’t accept their drinks?  I mean?? We told them that we were drinking for work, like my photo thing, not for fun.”

“And they got the message?”

“I mean, it took a while, but yes – they kept trying dumb lines like, Work hard, play hard!” you scrunch up your face at the ridiculous memory, “I finally had to tell them that my husband’s a cop in order for them to leave us alone!”

Husband.  Tim wills himself to keep his expression neutral, as if you hadn’t said something that piqued his interest and sent his heart racing.  Husband.

“Oh yeah?  What did they have to say to that?”

“Ugh!  One of them tried to convince me that he’d be a better husband than 'some meter maid,'” you roll your eyes as you shove black bean chicken chow mein into your mouth, “Timmy, did you splurge for extra crispy noodles?!” Your delight fills Tim with pride – he doesn’t know how you can tell after the sauce practically drowns the noodles, but you always can.

He nods, entertained by your cheery chatter, “You know, everyone has to do a rotation in Parking Enforcement – it’s a legitimate part of training.  So, what did you say?”

It takes you a beat to answer, so tickled by the image of your hulking Tim in a little cap and vest writing parking tickets, “I quoted Clueless of course: As if.  My husband is the biggest, baddest detective in the LAPD.  He’s the smartest investigator on the squad and has cleared more cases than anyone else in the precinct.   And he’s a ferocious guard dog who would rip apart any one who would dare make a woman feel uncomfortable.”

“You told them all that, Shutterbug?” Tim’s half proud and half shy at your praise, and still unable to get over that you’re calling him your husband in public.  It’s making him unspeakably happy. 

You nod vigorously, eyes wide and innocent, as if you couldn’t imagine a world in which Detective Tim Rockford and his accomplishments aren’t being praised to the sky at every given opportunity.  “I also told them that my husband is the sweetest and kindest person I’ve ever met.  And that even though he has hardened criminals scared shitless, he only ever makes me feel loved and supported, 100% appreciated and taken care of.  I love my husband!”  You look so happy you could cry, and Tim can’t help but feel his entire chest swell at how you described him to those two bozo strangers - that this is how you see him, what he means to you.  He loves you so much.

He tells you so as he kisses the top of your head, taking your empty plate to the sink and fetching another glass of water before wrapping his arm tightly around your waist and leading you to the bathroom.

From under his chin, you look up and coo, “And he’s hot too, you know?”

“Hmmmm?” Tim smiles down indulgently to find your cute, drunk face grinning at him mischievously.

“My husband.  He’s so fucking hot.  I want to climb him like a tree and sink my teeth into all his hard muscles and mark him up so everyone knows he’s mine.  Oh my god!”  You step in front of Tim, startling him with your sudden movement, the two you continuing to make your way through the bedroom.  Under Tim’s watchful eye, you walk backwards as you babble eagerly, trying desperately to make him understand, “You don’t even know how handsome he is?!?  He has the perfect nose and the deepest brown eyes.  His lips are so soft, perfect for kissing.  He is SUCH a good kisser.  OH!!! His facial hair looks sooooo good… I wonder what he would look like with a full beard.  Probably just as fucking hot as he does now.  My husband’s face is DEVASTATING!” You sigh dramatically.

Now starting to get embarrassed at your compliments, Tim turns you around gently and marches forward.  Once in the bathroom, you stop abruptly so that Tim bumps into you – giggling, you wiggle your butt into his crotch, wordlessly asking for help you don’t actually need to undress.

Tim disrobes you swiftly – wanting to help you get to bed as soon as possible, but makes sure to kiss a gentle path along the skin he reveals as he unzips the dress he watched you put on for work this morning; after he helps you step out of your dress, he dots kisses down the back of your thighs and calves that leave you shivering in pleasure.  Left in just your matching pastel floral lingerie set, you brush you teeth and start your night time skin care while Tim watches you fondly from his seat on the edge of the tub.  No matter the circumstances, you’ll never go to bed without washing your face and putting on some of the elixirs and potions that overrun your bathroom counter – Tim’s convinced they must work though - you’re radiant, stunning; if he didn’t often find himself distracted by the soft curves of your enticing body, he would never look away from your beautiful face.

“Did you know your husband has the best wife?”

You look over at him and giggle into the face towel you’re using to dry your cleansed skin, “Oh yeah?  Tell me about your wife, Detective Rockford.”

As you start to apply your creams and moisturizers, Tim comes up behind you, gently skimming his fingers up and down your bare sides, leaving little goosebumps in their wake, “My wife is gorgeous.  Prettiest woman I’ve ever met, inside and out.  She’s smart, kind, and hilarious, and I think the most considerate person on this planet.  Did you know when I first met her, she volunteered to wait and be the last to be interviewed by a grumpy detective, so that school trips and families with kids could go first?”

Your eyes crinkle at the memory of when you met Tim at the aquarium nearly a year and a half ago, “How do you know your wife wasn’t just angling to be interviewed by the hot detective?”

Tim points a finger at himself comically, arching his eyebrow at the you in the mirror reflection, Me?  Do you mean me – I was the hot detective?

You nod heartily, Of course you.

“Well, looks like my wife had my number from the start.  She’s smart like that.  Her brain is the sexiest part of her you know?  And that’s saying something because everything about her is sexy,” Tim starts kissing your neck.  His hands trail up to your breasts and he softly gropes your curves over the lacy fabric before reaching one hand between your bodies and undoes your bra clasp, his other hand ready to help you drag the bra down your arms, exposing your bare chest to the detective's lustful gaze.  Nuzzling into your ear, he whispers, “My wife is so fucking hot,” as his fondles your breasts in his big, meaty hands – rolling your nipples between his rough fingers then lightly tugging before releasing them, causing your tits to jiggle. 

You turn in Tim’s arms, your lips immediately meeting his, mouth open with an unspoken invitation he eagerly accepts.  Tim licks into your mouth hungrily and you match each stroke of his tongue with a brush of yours, every nip of his teeth with an equally playful nibble.  You sigh into Tim’s mouth as his lips press to yours over and over, mapping your soft cushiony lips and sucking them swollen to mark you as his.  He hardly allows you to take a breath, and you’re not sure anymore if your dizziness is from tonight’s alcohol, or the way Tim’s lips slot so perfectly over yours, stealing all your air.  You love it - air is nothing when you have Tim.  Moaning softly so the sound fills his mouth, you hear Tim whisper huskily, “Arms up, Shutterbug.”

“Anything you say, Detective,” you shimmy your half naked body playfully in Tim’s arms and raise your arms over your head as requested, and for a second, you can’t help but gaze adoringly at Tim’s devilishly handsome face before your vision is obstructed.

“Hey!  What th-?”  When Tim’s grinning face comes back into view, he lowers your arms to your sides and you look down at your chest.  You realize that Tim has slipped one of his oversized band t-shirts over your head to wear for sleeping.  You give him an exaggerated pout and a silly whine before pressing your now t-shirt clad body to his, your final drunk attempt at seduction.

Tim dispenses a soft kiss to your lips, nose, then forehead, “Not tonight, gorgeous.  You’re drunk.  You don’t need sex, you need water.”  He points to the glass of water he brought from the kitchen and leaves to place the drink on your bedside table so that you can finish getting ready for bed. 

Snuggling under the covers after taking three big gulps of water from your glass at Tim’s insistence, you sleepily arch you butt against Tim’s bulge, giving it a half-hearted shake, stopping only when he gives you a pinch on the bum, murmuring, “Tomorrow, Shutterbug.”  You grin at the promise and yawn, “Goodnight, Timmy,” before finally succumbing to your alcohol fueled exhaustion and passing out.

Tim wonders if you’ll remember calling him your husband tomorrow.  He wonders if you meant to say it or if it just slipped out.  He wonders what it could mean that you said it at all.  He wonders if you somehow know about the ring box that’s hidden in a pair of old sport socks he never uses at the back of his dresser drawer in the bedroom of a house that he’s hardly at anymore. 

Tim tightens his arms around you - he wonders a lot of things, but the one thing he never wonders about is how he feels about you.  Pressing one last soft kiss to your shoulder, Tim breathes in your soft scent – a mixture of perfume, lotion, home, and whispers, “Good night, Mrs. Rockford.”

[sugarcryztal]

☕️ Bitter Cold brew.

Summary: You had always hated coffee. The taste had always bothered you. That was until you started working at the agency when you started to like it…

Pairing: Dazai x GN!Reader (can be romantic or platonic)

warnings: none.

You had always hated coffee.

Ever since your first sip at a young age, the bitter taste reminded you of dirt. Distasteful. Disgusting. Revolting. How could people enjoy this

You were hunched over at your desk, you had only started working at the agency a couple years ago, hearing they needed help filing and ordering their documents. You fought the sleep in your eyes and took another sip of the coffee you had made, you stick your tongue out at the bitter taste in your mouth. The black liquid barely helped you stay awake, your eyelids heavy as you proofread another report.

That was until you heard the chime of the entrance door.

You tensed, was it an intruder? Who would be here this late at night? Were you hearing things? Was it a ghost? You slumped in your seat trying to focus on your papers again, but you couldn’t. Feeling too anxious. You decided to console yourself that no one was there you should investigate!

Tap… tap… tap…

You gripped your taser, prepared for if you were attacked. You walked along the halls of the agency, you had never realized how creepy it was until you were alone in the dark. The only thing you could hear was your breathing and your footsteps. It seemed there was no one there. You exhaled in relief, you hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until now. You walked back to the office and sat down in your desk again, slumping in your chair. You took another sip of your coffee, cringing again at how it flowed down your throat along with its bitterness.

You were safe. You were okay.

“Boo!” As you felt a chin on your shoulder you flinched, whipping your head around to meet the eyes of the other person. It was Dazai.

He had a close eyed smile on his face, giggling mischievously as he said, “Your reactions are too funny Name! Ahh how I enjoy getting on your nerves.”

Dazai was the last person you needed to see right now. You sighed deeply as your shoulders drooped and you faced back to the reports on your desk, wondering when you’ll ever be able to finish them. “Hey ‘Samu.” You said with a nonchalant tone. You had never cared for Dazai’s dramatics, how he always exaggerated everything, how he always tried to off himself every other morning, how you always had to get him out of difficult situations he got himself entangled in.

He reminded you of coffee. Distasteful.

You felt his arms loosely droop over your shoulders, placing his chin on your head, and leaning his body weight on you. Although you had a distaste for the brown haired man, you still were pretty good friends. It took a while to build the relationship you guys have. You confided in one another about certain topics, although it felt like you were only getting just a surface level of information. At least he never questioned the odd hours you chose to spend in your office filing papers.

A couple minutes pass by before Dazai speaks up. “This is boring.” He whined, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. You sighed and shook your head at his totally mind blowing observation.

“Work is work Dazai.” You sighed before stamping another proofread report, pushing it to the side. Before you could reach for another paper amongst the piles on your desk, you feel a hand grab your wrist gently and yank you out of your chair.

“Let’s go somewhere! There’s a new café just down the street. Wanna go try it?” He asked, his nose was slightly crinkled as his lips slightly curved upward. You sighed before nodding. You needed a break from work anyway, looking at reports could get exhausting.

…

You sighed as you entered the café, you sat down at a table and placed your bag in your lap. After you were settled in your seat Dazai walked off to get you guys some drinks. You slumped in your chair, exhausted from all the work you had been doing.

“Wow, you’ve really outdone yourself bella!” Dazai chimed as he placed a coffee cup in front of you. Normally you would feel annoyed at the nickname and his theatrics, but this time there was some warmth in your heart.

“Thank you, Dazai,” You said flatly as you picked up your cup with your dominant hand. It warmed your hand instantly once you touched it, as you brought the cup to your lips you felt a warmth in your other hand that was laying on the table, Dazai was gently playing with it.

His hands, that were usually cold according to others, were warm in yours. You paused before taking a sip of your drink, looking into his eyes, there was a hint of softness in them if you looked deep enough. You shrugged it off as you took a sip of your coffee.

The coffee was slightly sweeter than normal.

note: this actually took me awhile to write omg

[neuroprincess]

Hey I’m the anon who requested jjxreader! Maybe like the reader works for bau. Her and jj haye each other can’t work together etc but turns out that’s all just tension👀

Hi lovely anon, sorry for the delay, hope it's as you expected and enjoy ^^

Why do you hate me? - Jennifer Jareau/Female Reader

Jennifer Jareau/Female Reader

Classification: +18, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, bratty reader, top!JJ, rough sex, hate sex (?), fingering, oral, enemies to lovers, light punishment

Word count: +3300

Unrevised

Agent Jareau walks down the aisle of the jet, snacks and a cup of coffee in hand, this would be her breakfast on a Sunday early morning, when the entire BAU team had been called out on a case in Alaska. Frustration eating her up inside, not only that but also fatigue, the last case was closed two days before, exhaustingly long and difficult, so she barely had time to spend some quality time with the kids on what should be a few days off but criminals don't take time off and she had to call Will, her now-ex-husband, in the middle of the night so he can stay with the boys. When JJ arrives at her usual seat her tired expression turns to indignation, there, sitting exactly in her favorite spot, the new addition to the team is settled, hair slightly disheveled, wearing reading glasses and concentrating on the file folder in hand. She feels a wave of irritation as if Y/N is sitting there purposely to provoke her, it's not as if this hasn't happened before, like when Y/N openly disagreed with her in a meeting, ignored a point of view of JJ, also interrupted her, what irritated her the most was actually offering help in one of the cases even though she hadn't asked for help. But this time, she went too far by sitting in her favorite seat, strategically chosen years ago. The blonde frowns and waits for the other woman to notice her presence, which she doesn't, even as she coughs falsely and stares at her. Any remnants of calm and serenity she might have had are totally gone as she continues to stare at her. Defeated, Jennifer just sits down on the seat in front of Y/N, sighing audibly in sheer frustration at being ignored again. Then she throws the snack packets on the table, finally catching the other agent's attention.

- Hey - Y/N smiles and puts a hand between hair, taking out a wireless earphone - Bad mood, Aurora?!

Of course, JJ saw this coming, she started to be called Aurora because of her shiny blond hair and for an occasion weeks before when she slept on her shoulder during a meeting. At every opportunity Y/N uses the nickname, knowing full well how much it annoys her, she loves the "I'm going to kill you" expression she makes every time she is called that. Like the one she makes now, staring at her with a red face and dilated nostrils.

- No, I'm not in a bad mood. - JJ rolls her eyes, crossing the arms and throwing herself against the chair. - I was just trying to sit in my seat, but it seems that someone else is taking the place.

- Oh, I didn't see any names on the seat, it must have been my mistake. - the woman makes an exaggerated gesture of surprise, with a mischievous smile on her lips, then pats the seat next to her - If you like, I can reserve this place for you.

- I know you're trying to piss me off, but I'm sorry to say it won't work. - Jennifer replies sarcastically. - How can you be so annoying?

- Emily, they're fighting again! - they hear Luke shout at the brunette as he approaches, taking a seat in the chairs behind them.

- I'm just being nice. Maybe she's just not used to it. - Y/N defends herself, raising the hands in surrender.

- I don't need your niceness, thank you.

- You two are like cats and dogs, you know? - Emily comments, sitting down next to her friend, laughing as she looks at the two of them curiously - I never know what to expect when you two are together.

- True, but I guess that's the fun of it. - the newbie agent answers with a sarcastic smile, looking at JJ - It certainly adds a little excitement to the day. - and then puts the earphone back on, returning to reading the files.

- You know, it sounds like... sexual tension. - the chief whispers, pulling her face closer to the blonde's, then smiles broadly when she realizes how flushed she has become.

- Stop talking nonsense and let's concentrate on the case.

She swallows dryly trying to ignore the woman's comment, thinking how absurd it is that Emily thinks she could see Y/N this way. They hate each other and can barely stand each other's presence, Jennifer feels uncomfortable around her, a frustration with her presence, because she knows she won't come to an understanding with her and doesn't even know how to do that. In the end she attributes these feelings to Y/N's teasing attempts, her annoying personality, and how it makes her feel confused. It's a simply absurd thought. She turns to Y/N concentrating on reading, listening to something random in her earphones and biting the cap of the pen she uses to take notes. Jennifer feels something strange, a small twinge in her belly and an unfamiliar sensation running down her spine, it's something she can't control. Y/N looks, slightly, vaguely, almost attractive. She had never seen her like this, messy, so concentrated, and wearing a nice pair of glasses that bring out her best facial features. She wonders how someone so annoying can look so attractive, so she tries to dispel these thoughts when she realizes where they are going. JJ looks away and decides to turn her mind back to what really matters now, the case, so she picks up her own copy and tries to concentrate, sweeping any thoughts about under the rug.

- What the hell were you thinking? - Jareau growls opening the hotel room door for Y/N to enter, then slams the door behind them as the woman walks over to the second bed - You put yourself at unnecessary risk there, you could have hurt yourself seriously.

And is ignored by her, who just shrugs the shoulders as if she doesn't care and starts to take off the shoes, the blonde walks to an armchair in front of her, throwing herself against the furniture and sighs staring at her. Y/N rolls the eyes and finally gives her some attention, disdain in expression, she knows that throwing herself against an assassin armed with a knife was not the best idea but he was arrested, she left with just a scratch on the eyebrow, she didn't even need a medical suture, just some alcohol, pain medicine, band-aid and an appointment for tetanus vaccines.

- What are you complaining about? - she crosses the arms - I may have chosen the worst approach, but it worked, I came out practically unharmed. And you can't deny that it was a nice arrest.

- You are so childish!

- And you're very boring.

- Inconsequent!

- Shrewd!

- Petty!

- Bad-tempered. Why do you get so upset with me? Why do you hate me?

At this point the two are face to face, both exalted, inches apart, anger in their eyes dissipating in JJ's blue ones when she hears the question. She doesn't know the answer, simply doesn't have one for it, when Y/N walked through the BAU doors months ago, she picked on her from the first moment without knowing exactly why, maybe it was the annoying personality, the random conversations on the jet like Shakira's divorce, the constant bad jokes, the sarcastic replies to any comment, the mania for humming in the middle of a meeting, or even the habit of jumping to conclusions. Just like what happened in the case they just closed. Only then does she realize she is practically on top of Y/N, half leaning over the bed, staring at her expectantly for an answer to the question she has been holding in the back of her throat for weeks, and then Jareau does something she didn't expect, pushes her against the bed, and then something even more unexpected. She kisses her.

It's a shock to both of them, they're still elated and red from the little argument, mixing bitterness with gentleness, it's a bittersweet act. JJ just felt herself letting go, losing control of her own mind, as she always is around the other woman, and her body as well. All the barriers between them slowly falling down. She thinks of pulling away but before she could do that Y/N responds to the touch, hands reaching for the blonde hair deepening the kiss, merging in ardency and intensity. Tongues touch and roll, sliding inside each other as ragged breaths mingled, along with involuntary moans and intense touching. Jennifer pushes her further against the bed separating herself from her, in seconds both are naked except for the part under Y/N and JJ's fingers reach for the waistband of her pants in a hurry, ripping the piece from the woman's body along with her panties roughly, hands slide down the back of her legs and stop at the knee, opening legs further, leaving her completely exposed to her while the blonde keeps it open, squeezing her knees, staring at her pussy with thirst and desire. Excitement takes over both of them.

- I'm going to fucking ruin you. - Jennifer whispers with a serious expression on face and moves her hands to the inner part of the thighs, squeezing mercilessly - Hands above her head. Move an inch and you won't be coming tonight.

Y/N sighs in surprise at the blonde's attitude, at the same time excited, a wave of heat running through her body, wetness building up in her intimacy as she stares at her before obeying. She raises both hands above the head as she had been ordered and keeps her legs open, trying to move minimally, but it becomes an impossible task when JJ runs her mouth down the entire length of her thighs, scraping teeth, kissing and sucking the velvety skin, admiring every redness or patch of marked skin she leaves behind until she reaches Y/N's intimacy, taking her mouth to the honey pot, enjoying the taste of her excitement against the tongue. She caresses the sensitive bundle with circular strokes, which draws loud moans from the agent, she tries to keep obeying the woman but her body trembles in Jennifer's experienced hands and mouth. She hits the right places, with timing and a lusty hard-on that neither of them have ever felt before, sliding with speed and precision into the sweet spots. Not like some ex, high school sweetheart, not even with Will. It's intense, it's different, it's raw and carnal, along with months of frustration and hidden feelings.

She lets a scream die when she feels the tongue penetrate her, alternating between licking, sucking and invading her with vigor, JJ's strong hands grip her hips to keep her still, nails clenching close and leaving scratches in place, which are sure to leave marks the next day. Their eyes meet, it's a sight of the gods to have Jennifer Jareau between the legs, pleasuring her, fucking her roughly minutes after a fight over the case. After all the disdain they have shown for each other. The blonde blinks taking her mouth off Y/N's intimacy, licking her own licked lips and then biting the lower one, teasing her. This draws a moan from her, then another as JJ sucks her again, followed by many more. Y/N arches the back, the hoarse moans of her gasping breath almost muffled between the deafening beats of the heart, she knows she is close, her hands grip the sheets, she simply wants more, more and more, and when the tongue penetrates her again while the other woman sucks her greedily she finally finds freedom. With eyes closed, her breathing fast, and hands almost ripping the sheets, Y/N reaches the peak of pleasure. She moans loudly, enjoying every touch Jennifer gives her as she overcomes the orgasm she had just had.

There is a smug smile on Jennifer's lips, she faces the other sweated and ruined agent underneath her, shaking weakly, trying to pull herself together. But she feels it's not enough, not for the annoying person who made her last months a living hell, so her hands snake up to Y/N's clit, pressing and stroking slowly, making her breathe heavily again, she tries to control her moans but it's almost impossible with the merciless pace of JJ, who spares no energy in making her cum again, in less than a minute she reaches her goal. A second orgasm makes the agent's body tremble, involuntarily she closes her legs trying to regain control of her own body flooded with pleasure, she moans loudly and feels burning, watery eyes. Her body is increasingly hot and sweaty, muscles tense as she surrenders and enjoys all the pleasure that is being offered.

- So what makes you think I'm going to fuck you properly? - Jennifer whispers crawling over Y/N, brushing against her lips softly. She teases the woman as she takes her lower lip between the teeth, nibbling before leaving them, another smile forming as she stares at her with desire - You disobeyed me, but I'm going to relieve... for now.

- And if I like to be punished? - she lifts the head to face JJ, a defiant look on her face and a provocative smile on lips as she stares at her.

Jareau rolls the eyes and presses her body against her, bringing their lips together again in a hurried, sloppy kiss, then holds her by the hips tightly, lifting her onto the mattress and turns her so that she is on knees. A palm in the middle of the back positioning her correctly, JJ wants Y/N to have the legs apart and the ass lifted so that she is exposed and submissive to her. In this position she looks sexier, her curves perfectly outlined, the sight is beautiful and tempting to the woman, her gaze is full of desire admiring her beauty and submission. Just like this to get the brat under her control. Y/N is completely at her mercy and this excites her to hell.

- Ouch! - Y/N gasps as she feels the first slap being given, it hurts and she shudders, taking a deep breath without expecting the next after this one, it's stronger and the skin burns when the same hand strokes the sensitive spot, it's a mixture of pain and pleasure that makes the excitement flow between legs moistening the sheets - I think I like being punished by you - she says, voice hoarse and provocative - I'm hornier than ever, I want you inside me now. - she hums softly, looking back with eyes pulled wide with lust, her body moves with the movements of the blonde's hand, she wants more, she wants to feel inside her as soon as possible - Please, Jennifer.

- You have no right to call me that, it's Jareau, you brat. Are we clear? - JJ grabs a lock of the woman's hair, pulling back the head, bringing them closer together. Her mouth near her ear, she bites the earlobe and pulls, sending shivers down her spine - If I had a strap here, you wouldn't even be able to walk the next day. - she whispers last, not expecting to be answered.

- Yes, Jareau.

JJ pushes Y/N's head against the mattress still holding her hair, making her more prone and vulnerable with hips fully raised up. She penetrates her with ease, without pity or care she enters two fingers inside her, without giving time to get used to the stretching or the sensation she starts to move, in a fast and strong rhythm. Y/N groans loudly between sighs and strangled cries, feeling the pleasure invading her body, a twinge of pain that makes it even more interesting. JJ's hand leaves the woman's locks and finds itself on her hip again, holding her steady so she can maintain a favorable position and finds it. Her fingers slip deeper, disappearing into Y/N's desperate hole, she pulls them out completely and put them inside again in a brutal rhythm, this is maintained until the agent's body is convulsing under Jareau. Y/N's eyes widen letting out a scream as she feels the third and most intense orgasm of the night, it's pleasurable, painful and almost infamous the way it makes her feel, an explosion that brings her to tears. She spasms violently and collapses against the mattress, pulling and dragging JJ with her. The blonde lies down next to Y/N, arms pulling her to nestle there and holds her tenderly until her body relaxes overcoming this another orgasm, it was all so intense and JJ knows the woman needs this. She runs fingers through Y/N's hair, stroking the sides placing a lock behind her ear, kissing down the exposed neck. Then their lips meet in a gentle and calm kiss, slowly both their breathing calms, the newbie's skin becoming warm and relaxed, the tears drying, no longer burning. She lets out a soft sigh as their lips part slowly, as if they don't want to part. Jennifer puts her hand on Y/N's face, wiping away the trail of tears and leaves a kiss where that once belonged. Suddenly it's as if everything that had happened before has dissipated and the only thing that matters is the tight embrace they share. They let themselves go, finally surrendering to the moment.

- Aurora, so you don't hate me? - Y/N whispers, staring into the blue eyes in front of her.

- I think not, maybe Emily was right.

- About? - she raises an eyebrow, curious about what the chief could say about them besides the daily jokes.

- She said that between us there was sexual tension - JJ whispers, bringing her lips close to Y/N's again, feeling her breath - and I have to agree.

Y/N laughs softly, feeling embarrassed and blushing, hiding face behind hands, JJ also laughs and stops her from continuing to hide by holding wrists.

- Okay, I think I agree with her too, kind of, but maybe sexual tension isn't so bad. - she smiles and leaves a lingering kiss on the blonde's lips - So, does this mean we'll stop fighting? - and asks hopefully, her heart squeezing at the sight of Jennifer's smile.

- Probably, I think I'd prefer to kiss you than argue with you. Your brat mouth is of better use that way. - they nod positively in silent agreement - But as long as you stop calling me Aurora, otherwise I'll treat you like the brat you are.

- If the treatment is like the one you're giving me now, you can bet I'll keep calling you. - Y/N jokes trying to dissipate any tension that still existed between them, but it was all gone the moment their lips touched for the first time - But I promise, if you give me a kiss, I'll behave.

The blonde moves even closer to Y/N, placing a hand on her face and caressing gently. She gives her a tender kiss on the lips, wrapping her arms around the naked body pulling her to lie on her naked chest, then strokes the agent's back and head, just feeling her breath against her, then the little sighs and a soft snore. Y/N is relaxed in her arms, a feeling of security after all that has happened, neither of them imagined that the teasing and tension in the workplace was nothing more than repressed desire. JJ admires the sleeping woman, running a finger over the small cut on her eyebrow gently, mentally noting that she would have to give her another " lecture" for this unnecessary carelessness, when the serial killer pulled the knife close to her face and the whole team saw red she could swear she was seriously injured. It had been an intense day anyway, her body feels tired, as does Y/N's, this one mainly because she is on pain medication, so Jareau is not surprised that she practically faints. She is about to do the same when feels the phone vibrate in her pants thrown on the corner of the bed, carefully she takes it and is surprised that it's Emily.

"Hi you! Looks like you had a good time with Y/N, your room is next door to mine, in case you forgot. If you guys would like company next time, feel free to call me ;)"

[gcthvile]

The Pirate and His Conjurer (OUAT AU!)

Pairing: Rumpel! Cole x CaptainHook! Jeremy

Fandom: Marvel, OUAT

Warnings: none

Summary: A treacherous trickster turns mutineer and seizes control of a pirate ship, but finds himself longing for the captain's affections.

Cole struggled against his bindings as the pirate crew hauled him aboard their massive vessel. Their raid must have gone south if they were taking prisoners, but little did they know he was more than just a simple trickster. As he was shoved unceremoniously onto the deck, Cole took in his surroundings, filing away any details that could later prove useful in a daring escape.

That's when he saw him. The pirate captain was bellowed orders at his men while scrutinizing the captured ship in the distance through a spyglass. Even from behind, Cole could sense the power and swagger oozing off the man. Then he turned, and Cole found himself drowning in a sea of piercing blue eyes.

This must be the infamous Captain Hook he'd heard tales about in taverns and ports - as daring as he was deadly handsome. Not that Cole would ever admit to being distracted by a pretty face, of course. As Jeremy stormed over, Cole schooled his features into an amused smirk.

"Well hello, Captain. I do apologize for crashing your little party uninvited," Cole purred, giving the ropes binding his wrists an exaggerated yank.

Jeremy's stoic expression didn't waver, but Cole saw a flicker of interest in those eyes. "Who are you and what are you doing sneaking around my raid?" he demanded.

Cole mulled over concocting a lie but then decided the truth may serve him better, for now. "Names Cole. I'm just a simple merchant traveling these waters when I happened upon your...activities. Isn't pillaging what pirates do best?"

Jeremy snorted. "Nothing simple about you, I'd wager. Men, take him below deck until I decide what to do with our stowaway."

The crew hauled Cole towards the hatch but not before he shot the captain a wicked grin. "I do hope we'll continue our charming conversation later, Captain. I so enjoy learning more about ambitious pirates like yourself..."

His taunt earned him a glare from Jeremy that sent a thrill through Cole's gut. Oh this was going to be fun indeed.

The pirate crew tossed Cole unceremoniously into the hold below deck. But he landed lightly on his feet, already scheming his next move. He paced around the confined space, running his fingers along the damp wooden walls inspecting for any weaknesses.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, Cole heard footsteps approaching in the hall outside, followed by the creak of hinges as the door swung open. Backlit by lantern light, the silhouette that filled the doorway could only belong to one man.

"Cozy quarters you have here, Captain," Cole greeted Jeremy with a sly grin. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Jeremy snorted. "Don't flatter yourself, trickster. I merely came to see what manner of man has the gall to stowaway aboard my ship uninvited."

He studied Cole intently, as if trying to peel back the layers of mystery shrouding the stranger. Cole met his gaze unwaveringly, enjoying their tempestuous rapport.

"See anything you like?" Cole purred, giving a little spin to put himself on display.

Jeremy's stoic expression cracked ever so slightly, a glint of grudging amusement in his eyes. "You're a tricky one, I'll give you that. But it'll take more than smiles and pretty words to earn my trust. Why have you really come aboard my vessel?"

Cole circled closer, lowering his voice to an intimate murmur. "Let's just say I'm...invested in ensuring your latest raid goes according to plan, Captain. I may surprise you yet with how I can...assist you."

He traced a finger slowly along Jeremy's lapel, feeling the pirate captain's resolve wavering under his brazen touch. Their lips were mere inches apart now, tension crackling in the heated atmosphere.

Then Jeremy blinked and the trance was broken. He grabbed Cole's wandering hand sternly. "We'll see about that. For now, stay put like a good little stowaway until I return."

And with that final warning, he took his leave, leaving Cole alone with naught but fantasies to entertain himself. Things were certainly becoming more...interesting indeed.

Days passed as The Jolly Roger sailed onward through misty waters, its captain keeping Cole locked away below deck all the while. The trickster grew bored of his confined quarters, pacing like a caged animal and imagining all the mischief he could wreak if given free rein of the ship.

Late one night, Cole heard a commotion erupting on deck - shouts and clanging steel. An ambush? He strained his ears but the thick oak door muffled the sounds of battle. Then suddenly, footsteps pounded down the stairs and the lock scraped open with a gritty shriek.

Cole tensed, ready to pounce on his potential rescuer or assailant. But it was the captain himself, breathing hard and bloodied but triumphant. "We're under attack. If you've any magic up your sleeve, now's the time to prove your worth, trickster."

Cole smirked. "It's about time. Lead the way, Captain."

He followed Jeremy topside to chaos - another pirate vessel grappling with The Jolly Roger, boarders attempting to overtake the deck. Cole watched Jeremy cut down two men with fluid strikes of his namesake steel hook before joining the fray himself.

With a flick of his wrist, Cole sent two swordsmen tumbling overboard with spectral claws at their throats. He whirled, catching another across the jaw with a spinning kick before finishing him with a fireball. Jeremy stared, equal parts impressed and wary of Cole's prowess.

Together, they fought back to back, an unstoppable force. Cole's magic gave the pirates fits while Jeremy rallied his men with rousing cries. Slowly but surely, they gained the upper hand, clearing the deck of all invaders at last.

Panting amidst the carnage, Cole turned to Jeremy with a bloodthirsty grin. "Well Captain, it seems you have an...asset aboard after all. Do with me what you will now."

Jeremy eyed the trickster, his hatred for magic warring with newfound respect kindled in battle. "You've earned your keep for now. But don't think this changes anything between us, trickster."

Cole's smile only widened as he bowed low, dripping with insincere obedience. "As you command...Captain." Their tempestuous dance was only beginning.

In the aftermath of the battle, Jeremy retreated to his private quarters to tend his wounds. But he hadn't accounted for a certain trickster also seeking him out below deck.

Without bothering to knock, Cole swept inside and locked the door behind him. "Let me help with those injuries, Captain."

Jeremy glared, in no mood for games after the fray. "I don't need your magic, trickster."

"Hush now." Cole swatted away Jeremy's protests and set to work, gently cleaning and dressing the gashes with surprising care.

Jeremy watched him suspiciously but didn't pull away, captivated as always by Cole's mercurial nature. The trickster's touch sent sparks jolting through his veins, reawakening feelings best left dormant.

Cole sensed the shift and glanced up through thick lashes, smiling slyly at the pirate captain's turmoil. "You continue to intrigue me, Jeremy. Such a stalwart adversary one moment, vulnerable as any man the next. It's...fascinating."

His hand lingered at Jeremy's rugged jaw, thumb brushing softly over stubble. For a suspended heartbeat they wavered on the precipice, thirst and reason warring within.

Then Jeremy moved, closing the space between them in a crushing kiss that stole Cole's breath away. All the tension and passion they'd kept caged sprang forth in a wild torrent, clothes hastily discarded in their fervor.

After, they lay entwined, coming down from their high amidst the wreckage around them. Jeremy felt unmoored by the trickster once more, but for the first time allowed a glimmer of something bright and perilous to take root in his guarded heart.

Cole curled against him, sated and silent in the aftermath, though scheming as always. He'd gotten exactly what he wanted from the pirate captain at last.

Aboard The Jolly Roger, rumors had begun to spread about the pirate captain and the mysterious trickster now also claiming the ship as his own domain. The crew gossiped in hushed tones about the marks they'd spotted on Jeremy's neck, or the smug smiles Cole couldn't contain.

Jeremy's first mate was the first to confront him. "With respect captain, some of the men are startin' to doubt who's really in charge around here. That magic trickster has got you under his spell, if you'll pardon me sayin'."

Jeremy glowered, unwilling to show weakness. "Cole is...an asset. And what goes on between us is none of your concern. This is still my ship."

But deep down, even he questioned how long he could keep up the charade - or resist the lure of the chaos Cole represented. Their games had grown more private and intimate lately, as the trickster planted seeds of rebellion in the captain's mind.

That night, Jeremy sought Cole out in his quarters aboard the hold once more. "Your little games have gone on long enough. The crew questions my command. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't cast you out."

Cole grinned like the cat who got the canary. "Because without me, this ship would be utterly boring, darling. Admit it - you've grown...accustomed to my peculiar brand of entertainment."

He waved a hand, conjuring dancing lights that swooped through the dank air. "With me at your side, you could accomplish so much more than merely pillaging vessels. We could plunder entire kingdoms...together."

Jeremy couldn't deny the appeal of unrestrained anarchy. And really, why should he continue to deny himself what - who - he wanted? With a growl, he pulled Cole in for a bruising kiss.

"Very well, trickster. We do it your way. But the first sign of treachery, and you walk the plank. Do I make myself clear?"

Cole chuckled darkly against Jeremy's lips. "Perfectly clear, captain. You won't regret this, I promise."

A wicked idea took form in his devious mind. He would need to fully cement his control, to stamp out any lingering doubts about where Jeremy's true loyalties lay.

The next morning, Cole summoned the crew to the main deck with a loud cracking of magic. When they arrived bleary-eyed, they found Jeremy bound to the mast, struggling in vain against the enchanted ropes.

"What's the meaning of this, Cole?!" Jeremy roared.

Cole smiled innocently. "Why, I'm merely taking the initiative, darling captain. We had an agreement to do things my way from now on, if you recall." He turned to the anxious onlookers.

"Your captain has grown soft, led astray by weakness and sentiment. But I aim to bring back the chaos and terror you pirates thrive upon! Who's with me?"

An uncertain murmur rippled through the men until Jeremy's first mate thrust forward, glaring daggers. "We don't take orders from scoundrels like you. Now release the captain before..."

"Before what? You'll mutiny?" Cole cackled. With a wave of his hand he flung the first mate overboard, ignoring Jeremy's howl of fury.

"Any other dissenters?" Silence met him, the crew cowed into submission. Cole snapped his fingers, freeing Jeremy.

"The ship is ours, my darling. Now, where shall our reign of anarchy begin?"

Jeremy surged forward the moment the ropes fell away, grabbing a fistful of Cole's shirt with a snarl.

"You've gone too far this time, trickster," he spat, blue eyes blazing. Cole merely smiled wider, thriving off Jeremy's rage.

"Come now, it was all part of the plan!" Cole cooed, untroubled by the pirate's wrath. "We stand united before the crew as their unquestioned leaders. All according to your wishes, dear captain."

Jeremy gave Cole a rough shake. "I never wanted a mutiny against my own men! He was loyal, and you cast him aside without care."

Cole's smile faded as irritation seeped in. "Loyal to you, perhaps, but not to our cause. Some sacrifice was required to cement my authority."

"Your authority?" Jeremy laughed harshly. "This was never about ruling together, was it? You planned to usurp me from the start, trickster."

He shoved Cole away in disgust. The crew watched warily, unsure who to side with in this volatile power struggle.

Cole's eyes darkened. "Need I remind you which one of us holds real power here, captain? I gave you a gift in letting you keep your petty title, but don't delude yourself into thinking you still command anything."

Jeremy went still, expression shuttering. When he spoke, his voice held a deadly calm. "We'll see about that. Men! This mongrel thinks to steal our ship. I say it's past time he walked the plank."

Cole grinned darkly, fear melting into sinister mirth as the crew closed in on him. How cute they thought a few pirates in shirtsleeves posed any threat.

With a lazy flick of his wrist, inky shadows materialized on the deck, rising into hulking forms twice the size of a man. The shadow creatures hesitated, awaiting their master's command.

"Gentlemen, I'd advise against coming any closer," Cole purred. His eyes shone with malice as he scrutinized the crew one by one.

"You there - with the gaudy earring. Let's start with you." The shadow creature lurched towards its target, seizing the man effortlessly despite his struggling.

"Please, have mercy!" he begged. Cole cocked his head, feigning consideration. Then with a scowl, he snapped his fingers. The shadow's claws dug deeper, wrenching a howl from its prey as his leg twisted at an unnatural angle.

Cole surveyed the crew's horrified faces, relishing their dread. "Let that be a lesson. Any other volunteers to cross me?” His shadows growled in warning, hovering protectively by their master's sides.

Jeremy could only watch helplessly, powerless against Cole's sorcery for the first time. Their game had taken a vicious new turn, and innocent blood now stained the conjurer's hands.

The trickster was unmasked at last - a heartless monster lurking beneath the charm. Jeremy vowed then and there he would destroy Cole, or die trying to reclaim what was rightfully his.

With Jeremy and the crew cowed into obedience, Cole had all but officially claimed The Jolly Roger as his domain. Yet despite attaining the power and fear he so craved, a festering seed of doubt lingered in his heart.

Whenever icy blue eyes met his from across the quarterdeck, full of loathing and resentment, Cole felt a pang deep in his core that unsettled him. He told himself it was mere wounded pride at Jeremy's insolence in the face of his defeat.

But in solitary moments, when no mask or bravado could deceive even himself, Cole was forced to confront an alien emotion that left him hollow and aching. He missed their games and wordplay, the thrill of anticipation whenever Jeremy would indulge one of his schemes.

All he'd wanted was control and adulation as his due. So why did subjugating the captain leave him feeling so unmoored and fragile inside? Nights were the worst, an eternity of loneliness in his chamber as strange memories drifted through his mind.

Laughter echoing through shadows. The glint of sunset on steel. A calloused hand brushing his cheek, as blue eyes looked upon him not with hatred, but...something else. Cole clutched his head, cursing his sudden fits of weakness.

What was happening to him? How could one man undo him so completely without even trying? Cole knew then he had to find some way to win back what he'd lost, and understand the bitter yearning that now ruled his every waking thought. Even if it meant unraveling the tricky game they'd played from the very beginning.

Cole paced his dimly lit cabin like a caged animal, gnawing resentment and confusion warring within. He needed answers, and there was only one person who could provide them.

With a snap of magic, Cole transported himself to the captain's quarters in a swirl of shadows. Jeremy shot up from his cot, instantly on guard at the intrusion.

"What do you want, trickster?" he spat, calloused hand flying to the dagger at his hip. But Cole held up his hands in a gesture of peace, much to the pirate's surprise.

"I come without threats or charm for once, captain," Cole said slowly. "I merely wished to...understand."

Jeremy barked a harsh laugh. "Understand what? That you've ruined any chance of loyalty or trust with your manipulation and blood magic?"

Cole flinched, the blows landing deeper than any dagger ever could. Still, he met Jeremy's hateful gaze steadily.

"Why do I care what you think of me?" he demanded softly. "Your hatred should be of no consequence. Yet...it tears at me in a way I don't comprehend."

Jeremy studied him suspiciously, seeing the rawness lurking beneath Cole's guarded veneer. For a long moment they simply breathed the same air, waves of emotion rocking between them.

Then Jeremy sighed wearily and gestured to the bed. "Sit. It seems we have much left to discuss, trickster, and daylight will reveal truths the dark obscures."

Cole went without question, hope and uncertainty stirring anew in his turbulent heart. He perched cautiously on the edge of the captain's narrow bed, feeling strangely vulnerable under Jeremy's steady gaze. A multitude of thoughts and feelings swirled within, just below the surface, clamoring to be freed.

"When first we met, I thought this was merely another game to amuse myself," Cole began hesitantly. "But somewhere along the way...something changed within me that I don't comprehend. Your hatred cuts deeper than any blade ever could."

He lifted remorseful eyes to Jeremy's stony face. "I only wanted power, yet subduing you has brought me no joy. Each rejection chips away at something vital I didn't know I had until now. I must understand - why do you haunt me so?"

Jeremy studied the trickster keenly, seeing past the mask of pride to glimpses of raw humanity seldom revealed. Yet still doubts lingered, walls erected through betrayal that could not fall so easily.

"You toyed with my crew, wounded men under my care," Jeremy rumbled. "Give me one reason I should trust your aim is true understanding, and not more manipulation."

Cole extended empty hands, pleading. "You have every right to loathe me, captain, yet I am at your mercy. Use me as you see fit to find the answers we both seek. I vow no magic or deception - only the truth, as best I can offer it."

A tense silence passed as hope and skepticism warred in Jeremy's gaze. At last he nodded once. "Very well, trickster. Let our talk begin."

Cole let out a quiet breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Now came the difficult part - opening himself up with raw sincerity, something deeply uncomfortable for one used to masking vulnerabilities.

"For so long it was just me against the world, relying only on my wits and magic to survive each day," he began. "I witnessed humanity at its worst - the greed, cruelty, indifference. It was easier to view others as playthings rather than fellow beings."

His lips quirked ruefully. "And then I met you, Captain. A man of passion and principle, yet unafraid to bend rules when it suited. You were...a challenge, unlike any I'd faced. I found myself wanting nothing more than to unravel the mystery of you."

Cole met Jeremy's watchful gaze openly. "Somewhere in our games, I stopped seeing you as a means to an end. Your good opinion became of paramount importance, though I've only now begun to understand why. When you look at me with such hatred..."

He faltered, brow furrowing as if physically pained. "It tears at something vital within me. I've never felt so...exposed. So please, if you can offer any insight - why do I care what you think?"

Jeremy held Cole's anguished stare for a long moment, weighing his sincerity. At last, he spoke.

"You care because against all odds, trickster, you've come to see me not just as a rival - but as something more."

Cole blinked, taken aback by Jeremy's words. Something more? The idea was utterly foreign, yet somehow made perfect sense.

"More?" he echoed faintly. Always adaptable, his quick mind was already discarding old assumptions to analyze this revelation from a new perspective.

Jeremy regarded him steadily. "Aye. Somewhere between our battles of will and cunning, a bond was forged whether we wished it or not. One does not crave another's approval so desperately without...affection lingering beneath."

The word hung heavy in the air between them. Cole's brows knit as conflicting emotions warred within - fear and longing, shame and yearning all tangled together.

Was it possible he'd come to care for this infuriating, steadfast pirate in more ways than intended? The idea terrified as much as it drew him in.

After a long moment Cole spoke again, voice thin and vulnerable. "And what of you, Captain? Do you think you could ever...see me as more than a rival?"

Jeremy sighed, face softening with sympathy for once as the trickster's uncertainty. Tentatively, he reached out to clasp Cole's shoulder in an unfamiliar gesture of solace.

"Much has passed between us, 'tis true. But there may yet be hope, if you prove willing to start anew - without power plays or deception." He searched Cole's face intently. "Can you do that, trickster?"

Cole let out a shaky breath, nodding. Whatever this strangeness was between them, he found he wanted nothing more than to understand...and perhaps rekindle what once was, in time.

"I will try, Captain. For you."

Jeremy searched Cole's face, seeing only sincerity in his conflicted gaze. The trickster had come far in baring his soul so openly; redemption would be an arduous road, but hope remained where before was only hatred.

Slowly, cautiously, Jeremy retracted his hand from Cole's shoulder. But instead of pulling away fully, his calloused fingers found Cole's and linked them together - an unspoken peace offering between former enemies turned tentative allies.

Cole stared down at their joined hands, eyes widening in wonder and not a little fear. But he did not withdraw, gripped by unfamiliar yet potent emotions awakened by Jeremy's small gesture of trust.

When Cole met the captain's eyes once more, Jeremy offered a small smile - the merest curl of his weathered lips, yet it lit his sharp features and warmed his azure eyes. "There may be promise of something more between us, trickster. But for now, let our talk continue in kinder spirits."

Cole nodded, returning a shy smile of his own. Words escaped him in that moment, but their clasped hands spoke volumes - of understanding gained, bridges mended, and potential blossoming where only ashes remained before.

As dawn's rosy light began to filter through the cabin's grimy windows, Cole released the nervous breath he'd not realized he was holding.

The golden light of dawn limned Jeremy's noble profile, reminding Cole all over again why he fell for this stalwart pirate. His gaze traced each weathered scar and line of strain, feeling anew the tangled mess of emotions this man alone could stir.

Without thinking he leaned in, following some instinct deeper than magic or guile. At the last moment he hesitated, searching Jeremy's eyes for permission or denial.

What he found was a quiet desire long buried beneath past hurts and suspicion. It was all the encouragement Cole needed to close the final distance between them.

His lips met Jeremy's in a soft kiss, close-mouthed and chaste yet lingering. After the anger and betrayal, such intimacy felt startling yet right - two souls seeing each other clearly at last.

Jeremy's calloused hand rose to cradle Cole's jaw, tracing the sharp angles in a tender caress as they kissed slowly, learning each other anew. No urgency marred the tender moment, only patience and fragile hope blooming where once was only doubt.

When at last they parted, Jeremy rested his forehead against Cole's, breathing the same air in a wordless communion of hearts and souls. Cole had never known such depths of emotion could exist beyond desire and fear.

"This changes things between us, trickster," Jeremy murmured. "No more tricks or power games. If you want this - want us - it must be as equals."

Cole nodded, filled to bursting with unfamiliar yet wondrous feelings. "I understand, Captain. Whatever it takes to earn your trust, your heart - I will do it."

And for the first time since arriving on this ship of scoundrels and scars, Cole felt he had truly found a home.

there we go, hope you guys like the fic! i know it's a bit long but i just had to write one for these two since we already have a lot of OUAT stories with the other couples 🥰

tags: @missstrawbs2001 @jackiequick @blueboirick @cherrysft @meiramel @purpleprincessonfyre @ask-missparker @askstevella @therealdaydreamstark @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @rooster-84 @gaminggirlsstuff

[thesakuragarnet]

The Tape

Summary: Married Pro Heroes Toya Todoroki and Keigo Takami decide to make a s3x tape.

~I’m walking s3x, pedal to the metal with the disco tech~

*inspired by an Ayesha 3rotica remix*

Takes place between 72 and 73 of PHOENIX: A Pro Hero Toya Todoroki AU

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY! S3XUAL TAGS WILL BE HIDDEN BELOW THE KEEP READING BUTTON!

Non-Spicy Tags: Hero!Dabi, DabiHawks, swearing, heavy smut, married DabiHawks, DabiHawks in love, making out, alternate universe

Word Count: 2,369 words

AO3 link

Spicy Tags: explicit s3xual content, s3x tapes, a n a l s3x, gay s3x, bottom Dabi, top Hawks, switch DabiHawks, a n a l f!ngering, grinding, feathers and featherplay, s3x tape leak

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mmmmngh~ Kei~,” Toya moans loud enough for the recording to hear as his husband slowly curls his fingers inside him. Ever since their bachelor party, Keigo’d wanted Toya to hold true to his promise for them to make a sex tape…and it’s finally happening. Rather than have a physical camcorder, Keigo was just going to save it to the laptop with the rest of the classified case files from their missions. It was a quick and easy way to make sure it was kept under wraps. 

“That’s it, baby. Relax,” Keigo croons, raising his voice ever so slightly. The plan is to keep this for any solo missions either of them take…so if they’re feeling spicy they have something to remember the other by. At least, that’s the way Toya was looking at it. They’re usually a bit more soft-spoken in bed, but, for the purposes of the sex tape, they’re having to be a lot more exaggerated. 

“More,” Toya stutters, his eyelids fluttering as his breaths come out ragged and panting. A sultry, power-hungry smirk spreads across Hawks’ face as he fluidly slips another lubed finger into his husband. Toya’s back arches, hands turning to fists in the sheets as his throbbing cock stands up untouched, rock hard and dripping pre. 

“You’re so beautiful, Toya,” Keigo hushes, a feather gently gliding from his wings to drag up Toya’s stomach, tracing up between his pecs and up his neck until it cups the side of his face, stroking his cheek. Toya moans at the praise, mumbling his love’s name as he clenches around Keigo’s fingers. 

“I love you~ah~Keigo~fuck,” Toya groans before Hawks leans forward to connect their lips in an amorous kiss. Toya whimpers into the kiss, arms wrapping around Keigo’s neck and pulling him closer as their tongues tease one another. Keigo can’t hide his smug smile as he chuckles to himself, tracing sloppy kisses down to Toya’s neck. Toya sighs, fingers stroking through the blonde tangle of hair as his husband continues to drag his lips further down his body. 

“I love you, too, starboy,” Keigo growls against Toya’s skin before sinking his teeth into his pec. Toya gasps, his deep voice pitching uncharacteristically high as he feels his husband’s tongue teasing his nipple. Keigo intentionally curls his fingers around Toya’s prostate as he sucks, forcing a desperate whine from his husband’s throat. 

“I want you so bad, baby,” Toya begs, his husky voice sounding borderline feral. 

“How do you want me?” Keigo pants, his breath warm on Toya’s chest. 

“Fuck me…please,” Toya stammers, eyes practically rolling back into his head as he grinds against Keigo’s hand.

“You’re so gorgeous when you beg, starboy,” Keigo’s voice lilts, borderline patronizing yet full of passion. He looks over his shoulder at the laptop camera, making sure that it gets the full side view of the two of them. It’s still in position. Keigo’s feathers swirl, grabbing the discarded bottle of lube from the bedside table and promptly squeezing it onto Keigo’s impressive erection. Toya bites his bottom lip and winces slightly as Keigo slowly slips his fingers out of his hole, gasping softly when he’s finally empty. His lip trembles, and Hawks puts a feather to his lips to tenderly shush him. 

“Relax, darling,” Keigo huffs before he spreads Toya’s legs and slowly pushes into him. Toya’s moan is over-the-top and borderline pornographic, clearly overdone for the video, and it makes Keigo blush something fierce. The moment he’s fully stuffed inside Toya, the fire-Quirk-user wraps his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist, clutching desperately to the winged Hero like his life depends on it. A stream of curses leaves Toya’s lips when he feels his cock rubbing against Keigo’s abs. The subtle friction is enough to make the pleasure blaze in the pit of his stomach. He wants more. He wants it forever. 

“Fuck me, Keigo, fuck me,” Toya wails, tears pricking at the edges of his eyes from how pent-up his emotions are. Keigo’s lips curl into a seductive grin before he starts gently rocking his hips, falling into a rhythm that he knows drives his husband insane. 

“ Keigo~ah~ah~AH! ” Toya cries out in pleasure, his sharp, black-painted nails raking down Hawks’ back between his crimson wings. 

“That’s it, baby. That’s it, baby. I love it. Fuck , I love it when you say my name,” Keigo groans, picking up his rhythm as the sounds of skin slapping against skin bounce off their bedroom walls. Two feathers pop off of his wings, slipping in the space between them to tease Toya’s hardened nipples as yet another one wraps around his cock, the flexible vane applying the same pressure as Keigo’s hand would. Toya sinks his teeth into Keigo’s shoulder to stifle his scream of pleasure as he bucks his own hips, thrusting into the feather cocksleeve while simultaneously forcing Keigo’s dick deeper inside him.

“Oh, Touya ~ fuck ,” Keigo pants, his voice hoarse and rasping as he roughly grabs Toya’s hips and ruts into him even faster. 

“Don’t stop-don’t stop-don’t stop!” Toya begs desperately, feeling completely lost in love, lust, and pure ecstasy. 

“You feel so fucking good. God . I could fuck you forever,” Keigo grunts, pounding Toya at a pace that melts his husband’s mind. 

“F-f-f- Fuck ! Gonna come soon. Gonna come soon, Kei,” Toya stammers, sweating and flustered as he dissolves into a mess of horny moans. 

“Come for me, Toya. You’re taking me so well. Let go, baby. You’re mine. You’re all fucking mine. Fuck ~ AH! ”

Keigo screams as his orgasm catches him off guard, and he pumps into Toya, riding out his orgasm as he continues to rock his hips. Toya shudders when he feels Keigo’s release spreading inside him, and the sensation is enough to send him over the edge as well. Toya gasps as he comes breathlessly, and white splashes onto Keigo’s abs. Slowly, Keigo stills his motions, and, after a few deep breaths, they lock lips passionately. 

“So good,” Toya slurs, drunk off the high as Keigo softly sucks on his bottom lip.

“I love you,” Keigo sighs when he finally pulls out, making Toya whimper before they wrap their arms around one another. Toya finds himself encased in a sea of crimson as Keigo’s wings form a comforting, protective veil. 

“I love you, too, but now the camera can’t see,” Toya chuckles to Keigo’s chagrin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What I wouldn’t give to not have to do this stupid talk show,” Toya groans as he zips up the jacket of his Pro Hero suit. 

“It’s the first solo press you’ve gotten in a while, darling. Embrace it,” Keigo grins, pressing a chaste kiss to Toya’s cheek as he wraps him up in a hug from behind. 

“I’m still sore from last night, you fucker,” Toya playfully growls, lightly pushing him away. 

“Please. I’ve been rougher before,” Keigo taunts as he ruffles Toya’s hair. The fiery Pro weasels out of his husband’s grip before fixing his hair. 

“Wish me luck,” Toya sniffs as he walks out the door. 

…

…

The second Toya steps onto the set, his nerves get the best of him. The stage has neon red and white lights, making the set itself look rather intimidating. The talk show host sits in a red leather chair opposite an empty couch. 

“And now, the hero you all have been waiting for…our Number Ten on the chart…husband of the Number One Hero: Hawks…Cremation Hero: Third-Degree! Toya Todoroki!” The host announces.

‘Oh, shit. That’s me.’ Toya panics as he shuffles onto the stage, trying not to make it obvious that he’s got a slight limp. 

“God…sorry. I’m exhausted,” Toya yawns, wincing slightly at the dull pain between his legs as he shifts in his seat. The host giggles coyly before replying:

“Oh, I bet you are. Had quite the night last night, huh?”

“I’m sorry?” Toya raises his eyebrow, confused. 

“And now, for our special eighteen-plus segment! Heroes After Dark!”

…

“SIR! SIR!” Burnin’ screams as she scrambles into Keigo’s office. Her face falls when she realizes her boss is nowhere to be found.

“What’s up, Kamiji?” Keigo asks, cocking his head in concern as he flips through his hard copy case files.

“Did Toya already leave?!” She gasps, her face paling, and Keigo nods. 

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Hawks…there was a security breach this afternoon…and…and something…something…uh…got leaked to the public…”

…

Toya gulps, feeling sweat bead on the back of his neck as the reporters finish showing a censored PG-13 portion of the very end of the tape, with Keigo and Toya cuddling in bed and making out, their bottom halves covered up with the comforter. 

‘Fuck.’ Toya’s mind races as his heart thumps in his chest. 

“Our audience is actually rather surprised. In your interview after your engagement, you two said you were the top. That’s clearly not the case here,” The host chuckles, twirling a finger through her hair. 

‘Toya…you have to be very careful what you say in this interview…c’mon…be suave. Play it cool. Take a breath.’

“Well, I mean…we take turns,” Toya laughs, crossing his arms over his chest, and the host’s eyes widen. “If you want the other side…stick around for the sequel,” He teases with a cheeky grin. 

“Oh…so you two…switch roles?” The host inquires, raising her eyebrow with curiosity. Toya snorts.

“Oh, definitely. In fact, at the time I did the engagement interview, I was telling the truth. Like I said…hmm...how much money could we rake in if we started an OnlyFans?” Toya jests, deciding to take charge of the situation. The live audience erupts into laughter and claps, along with a few whistles and hollers. 

“Oooh…is this a serious announcement? Are you two going to start a subscription service?” The host chortles, leaning in closer. Toya shrugs. 

“I mean…I don’t know if Keigo would be up for that. He enjoys our private life being private. Which…unfortunately…doesn’t seem to be the case any longer,” Toya huffs, chewing on his bottom lip as he sits up straighter on the couch. 

“Now, if you don’t mind. I’d love to pick this tape apart a little more,” The host grins before pulling out a tablet and scrolling through her notes. 

“Our adult audience has so many questions. We wanna give a candid in-depth analysis today of your sexual relationship. Very few Pro Heroes have a relationship as long-lasting and as passionate as yours, let alone a marriage. The people wanna know what makes you two tick! So…first question…is Keigo as vocal in bed as you are when your roles are reversed?”

“Oh, he’s a lot worse actually. I can make that birdie sing ,” Toya smirks smugly, eyes slightly glazing over as memories flutter through his brain. 

“Oh really ? So that confident and collected hero persona just comes crumbling to the ground when you get your claws in him, huh?” The host chuckles, and Toya nods. 

“Definitely.”

“Another thing. The video itself…it was pretty tame…all things considered. Is that how your sex life normally is?”

“Pfft. Oh, honey. Missionary and featherplay just scratches the surface . We’ve got a lot of tricks up our sleeves,” Toya blurts proudly. 

…

…

“Hey, Keigo!” Rumi calls as she beckons him to join her on the couch on their kitchen floor. She’s sitting in front of the TV, playing Toya’s interview. “You might wanna come see this. Your hubby is exposing your sex life.”

“Oh my fucking, God !” Keigo groans in exasperation as he joins her, putting his head in his hands and looking through his fingers up at the screen.

“Yeah, the reason he can’t do those Speedo swimsuit calendars anymore is because my handprints are branded on his ass. That was from before our wedding…though…you could probably see at least part of that from the sex tape,” Toya chuckles on the screen, and Keigo turns fifty shades redder. 

“My image…it’s-”

“Ruined like a cum rag,” Mirko jokes, slapping him on the back, and Keigo cringes.

“Gross,” He snorts, and Rue rolls her eyes. 

“Hey, it could be a lot worse,” The rabbit hero points out as she leans back on the couch, putting her hands behind her head. 

“What’s the secret to this raw, intense sex that you two have?” The host asks the final question with shining eyes, and Keigo braces himself for a lewd answer. Toya straightens up in his seat, his cerulean eyes practically glowing. 

“Well…in all honesty…being in love. It sounds kinda silly and sappy as hell, but, it’s the truth. The intensity. The passion. The cravings. Hell, even the orgasm. Everything multiplies tenfold with the emotions of being in love. Keigo and I have been through so much together, and I feel like we grow closer to each other every single day,” Toya explains thoughtfully, catching the host off guard. The audience dissolves into “awws” as Toya continues, and Keigo feels pink tinting his cheeks as he watches his husband gush about him on live TV. 

“I love everything about Keigo. I love his smile. I love his voice. I love the way his eyes look like liquid gold. I love the way he squeezes my hand extra tight to tell me silently that he loves me. I love the way he goes the extra mile to do everything he can to help as many people as possible. He’s…he’s just…perfect,” Toya sighs wistfully, staring into the camera as if he’s locking eyes with Keigo. The Number One Hero’s feathers ruffle, and his heart skips a beat. 

“Getting a little hot under the collar, Featherhead?” Rumi teases, taking note of Keigo’s blush. He ignores her, his eyes glued to the TV. 

“So…to close us out…when can we expect that sequel you were talking about? The one where… you’re the top?” The host pries with a devious wink, and Toya runs a hand through his hair. 

“That all depends on what my husband thinks,” Toya admits, looking straight at the camera. Without missing a beat, Hawks answers to himself:

“Tonight.”

[gylaan]

I've been reading a lot of Raildex fanfic recently, which, predictably, resulted in trying to smash it into my current hyperfixation, which resulted in this snippet.

---

Waking up is a surprise.

In light of that, waking up in a hospital is considerably less so.

Beside my bed is a doctor, a balding, elderly man with a wide face that makes him look a bit frog-like. He must have noticed me wake up, because he turns to me with a gentle smile. “Ah, ohayou.”

Japanese, I identify. Meaning “good morning.” Slightly facetious, going by the high angle of the sun coming through the window.

“What happened?” I ask in the same language.

The doctor’s smile fades, but doesn’t quite turn into a frown. “I was rather hoping you could tell me,” he says. “You were found unconscious in an alley about an hour ago, but we’ve only found some minor bumps and scrapes. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Nothing.” My answer is unthinkingly honest, and I immediately regret it – for all I know, this man is in some way responsible for my situation in the first place. But no, I realize, lying about something this basic would just get me in trouble down the line; honesty will get me answers, for now. Still, I resolve to be a bit more circumspect going forward.

In the half-second or so it takes me to reach that conclusion, the doctor blinks twice in surprise. “Just to be clear, when you say ‘nothing’…” He trails off, but the specifics of the question are inconsequential.

“I suppose I am slightly exaggerating,” I concede. “I can recall a face here, a snippet of conversation there,” the smell of burning flesh, I don’t add, “things of that nature. But it’s all disconnected and stripped of context; no way to tell if or how anything goes together or in what order.”

“That’s certainly troubling,” he says, brow furrowed in concern. “And yet I can’t help but notice that you seem less worried about this than I am.”

“Frankly, I’m more surprised to have woken up than to have lost my memories,” I admit. “Which, to me, suggests that whatever I was doing, I knew in advance that it had a high chance of leaving me without memories, if not comatose or dead.”

The doctor scowls. “A girl your age shouldn’t be saying something like that so matter-of-factly,” he mutters, quietly enough that I don’t think I’m supposed to have heard it.

Something about his words triggers a surge of irritation. It’s mild, somehow worn and familiar; how often must people comment on my age for it to prompt a reaction like this? Or perhaps I’m missing something.

 Before I can ponder further, the doctor speaks up again. “Well, regardless, I’d like to schedule a CT scan to check for brain injury. In the meantime, do you at least remember your name? You didn’t have any identification when you were brought in, so we haven’t been able to find your files.”

My thoughts stall for a moment when my name doesn’t immediately spring to mind at his request. But I do find, among the scattered ashes of my memories, something that might be a name. It doesn’t inspire inexplicable nostalgia, nor do I have some mysterious attachment to it, but I decide it will have to do.

“I think it was… Carol.” And saying it aloud makes it feel right. “Yes.

“Carol Malus Dienheim.”

[iloveabunchofgames]

#JakeReviewsItch

As We Know It

by Jaime Scribbles Games, PMscenarios

Price (US): $14.99

Included In: Bundle for Racial Justice and Equality

Genre: Visual Novel

Pitch: Can love bloom in an underground bunker?

My expectations: Most of the visual novels I've reviewed have been extremely light on player input, so it's heartening that five of the 14 screenshots along the side of the Itch listing show some decision being made. They've also included a screenshot of the settings screen, which is a baffling choice. Did they envision a potential customer thinking, "I don't know. This game looks pretty good, but I'm not reaching for my credit card until I see visual proof that it has separate sliders for music and sound volume."

The developers asked for $2,500 on Kickstarter and ended up with closer to $3,000, which isn't that much money for a six-person team, but it's a heck of a lot better than your typical indie visual novel budget.

Review:

It’s sometime in the future. If fighting over scraps doesn’t kill you, the sandstorms will.

But things are looking up for Ashlynn and her mom. Or rather, down. They’ve been accepted into the underground bunker of Camden, where the showers are cold and the conversations are steamy.

In theory, at least. I completed four in-game weeks—about an hour and a half—and despite earning a few relationship points, none of the encounters with my fellow eligible bunker-dwellers seemed to be going anywhere.

My worklife fell into a similar rut. A cup of coffee in the morning, followed by a day of cleaning and filing at the clinic. There was a bit of excitement when a stomach virus hit our closed society, but two days later, we were right back to the old routine.

As We Know It is flat, repetitive, and devoid of character. Whatever intrigue there might be in the premise of love in the post-apocalypse is undone by pedestrian writing. Is there political corruption in the heart of Camden, or are good leaders sometimes forced to make bad calls? What are we willing to trade for security? The game raises big questions, but I’m not sticking around for answers.

+ Lots of choices. Most of the time it's easy enough to predict the outcome a choice will have, and it's easy to back up and choose again if you're not satisfied—helpful when trying to romance a particular character. + Outside of occasional comma splices, the writing is grammatically solid—a rarity in the world of indie visual novels. + Generally clean and competent presentation. I wasn't wowed by the audio or visuals, but everything is fine. + Big, bold character names at the top of text boxes, so it's always clear who's talking. (Okay, I'm really only mentioning this because I forgot to say something yesterday, when I reviewed a visual novel where there was rarely any indication about who was speaking.)

– Characters have personality traits, but they don't have personality. There's no life in these words. – Everyone has one pose, with changing facial expressions. Characters are drawn with slightly exaggerated features, but they're still pretty close to human proportions. The faces need to be a lot bigger. Subtly shifting eyebrows and lips aren't enough to create visual interest when most of the screen is filled with static backgrounds and static bodies. – The relationship point system is unintuitive. I'll share an emotional, flirty scene with a character and not see any change in my score. I'll bump into that character in the hallways and keep walking, and suddenly our love level has jumped up 20%...which doesn't seem to affect how we act or the things we discuss. – When welcoming newcomers to the city, the mayor talks about earning beads that can be traded for luxury items. Where's that game? How about a little life management and simulation in this dating sim? Instead, jobs are just a couple of mandatory, repetitive text boxes each day, and you're always provided with whatever you need, without any budgeting or decisions to be made. Boooring.

🧡🧡🤍🤍🤍 Bottom Line: Given the choice between life on the surface or returning to As We Know It, I'll take my chances with the sandstorms, thanks.

#JakeReviewsItch is a series of daily game reviews. You can learn more here. You can also browse past reviews...

• By name • By rating • By genre

[funnywiccanwritingcorner]

Le Joyau le plus precieux

A Lucky Luke Modern!AU fanfiction

Chapter XI - Bonding

On the shores of the Seine there was an open-air restaurant that in the evening lit up a large wrought-iron gazebo covered with a thousand yellowish lights, which reflected in the water dancing in the current; there customers sat at tables enjoying delicious dishes in a relaxed, for some romantic atmosphere. It was at one of these tables that Lucky Luke and Joe Dalton sat, the latter with a scowling face as he scrolled through the names of the dishes on the menu.

-Come on, I said I was sorry...- -Shut up, I'm choosing.-

When the detective had picked him up, he had done so by driving William's car. The problem was the driver's seat, which didn't allow Joe to see the road, and he had to resort to pillows to get the right height. And Lucky had barely managed to stop himself from laughing when he had seen him. Not that it was an exaggerated laugh, but it had been audible.

-Joe, don't be like that. I didn't mean to mock you, but at a first glance...- -I'd like to choose my dinner in peace, thank you. Ah, fine. Waiter?- Promptly this one answered the call. -Bring me a plate of salmon and cream pasta, please.- -And for the gentleman?- the man asked, turning to Luke. -The same, thank you.- -Can I recommend our vintage white wine? It goes perfectly with it.- -Go ahead.- Joe watched him leave, then leaned slightly towards his companion: -We need to talk business now.-

Not at all convinced, Lucky sighed and took some photographs from a jacket pocket: -Nat has done a great job. In addition to infiltrating the security system, he's devising an algorithm to get control of the cameras, and he's managed to get floor plans of the facility and computer files. He will guide us step by step through the mission; these are photos taken from the satellite showing the level of security outside. There are guards everywhere, soldiers for the most part.- -How do we get past them?- -I was hoping you could suggest something.- -I'll jot down a few ideas. What about Ivor?- -He still needs to tell us where his boss is. He'll stay with us a little longer, and I think he'll prove more cooperative.- -Maybe we should move him. Someone from the company might find him.- -No. Thanks to the unwitting kindness of our doorman, I now possess the only key to that room.- -That's better.-

When their plates arrived, Joe began to eat with a hasty 'bon appetit'; Lucky, however, stared at his own portion with a strange expression. -What's the matter with you?- -Uh, nothing, nothing.- He took his fork and stabbed a couple of pens, looked at them hesitantly and then closed his eyes before eating them. Dalton observed that moment without saying anything, but when the other began to cough, he asked him if everything was all right. -I-I don't like salmon...!- was all Luke managed to say before taking a sip of wine. -What? Then why did you order the same dish as me?- With a smirk and dabbing his mouth with his napkin, Luke simply replied: -At least now we're square...- Joe was stunned. His brain took a moment to reconnect everything. -What a shame, though, you lasted much longer!- -It's not a competition... I'll call the waiter back and tell him there's been a mistake.- -But it's a shame to waste them at this point.- In response, Dalton took the other's plate and brought it close to him: -I'll pay double, then.-

After such a feast, walking was a necessity. And along the river it was definitely pleasant, in the evening, to be enveloped by the golden light of the street lamps in an atmosphere that took you far away, into a space populated by dancing shadows and colourful sounds. Between one alley and another, in fact, if one moment you could hear the sounds of a television at full volume, the next there was the music of some club, and after that a brief but almost unnatural silence for that cacophony that accompanied the passers-by on the banks of the Seine.

Joe was no longer angry with Lucky, and the two were talking quietly about more and less, until the detective asked a particular question: -Are you nervous about tomorrow?- -Quite. But it's that kind of nervousness that helps me concentrate. And you?- -More than nervous... Charged, that is.- -Charged?- -Ready for action, you see.- Luke nodded, pausing in front of an illuminated shop window. It sold wigs and carnival costumes. -It occurs to me that I've worked out a plan to get you inside,‖ Joe stated, -and it will require your acting skills.- -Really?- -Simple but I hope effective.- A strange silence then fell.

A small couple zigzagged past them, laughing. Then the boy took the girl by the hand and gave her an uncertain pirouette, before continuing. This reminded Lucky, by way of a connection of ideas, of a question: -Joe, can you dance?- -What? Where did that come from?- -Yes; I mean, you must have danced.- -Really not. Not in pairs, at least, and at parties I was almost always a wallflower.- They started walking again. -Why?- -Did you get a good look at me? Who would want to dance with a man tall three feet and a stamp lying down?- -I don't see the problem, honestly.- -Really? I repeat, look at me: I can only compensate with my personality; I'm a miniature!- -I would invite you to dance anyway.- Dalton was stunned: -Are you blind or what?- -He who only looks at the surface is a fool. Frankly, after all the time I've spent observing you, your height doesn't seem like such an unwinnable obstacle.-

-Yeah? Let me tell you, then: when I was a kid my brothers and I used to have fun like everyone else our age, going to amusement parks, going out in the evenings to party, that sort of thing. Because I looked younger than my real age I received a lot of doors in my face: no rollercoaster, no x-rated horror movies, no nothing. I had to wait until I grew a beard and moustache, but still if I want to drink a beer I have to present ID. If it weren't for my temperament, I would probably be invisible.- -That's not true!- protested Lucky, frowning. -And to get back to the subject of dancing, if we went to any club I was always in danger of being crushed-- -Watch out!- A man on a bicycle cut them off, and almost ran into Joe; but Luke dragged him, grabbing him by the shoulders towards himself just in time. They fell backwards onto the pavement.

-What did I tell you? He didn't see me. It's the story of my life.- He tried to get up, but the other was holding him back: -Hey, what are you doing?- The grip turned into an embrace. Dalton became a stone statue: had he hit the concrete with his head and was he imagining it?

No. Those arms around his waist, that body against his back, were real. He turned as red as a traffic light, and even more so when the other began to speak again: -But it didn't stop you from agreeing to help me and confronting Ivor when the need arose.- Joe swallowed, but he had not a single drop of saliva. He wasn't used to such human contact from someone who wasn't family. -I'm sorry I laughed before- the ex-agent continued. -Don't apologise... You don't have to...- He noticed that the other had laid his head on his, and shivered not because it was unpleasant, but because he had a further increase in his heartbeat. A whole minute passed before the detective came to his senses: -Do you... intend to stay here all night?- he resumed, uncertain. -Pardon, actually the concrete is not comfortable!- Lucky joked, letting him go and getting back up with him. Joe stared at him for a moment, gathering his thoughts: -Anyway... No, forget it. I'm a little tired, and tomorrow's going to be a hard day.-

Dalton could not close his eyes. He gazed at the ceiling of his room with the blank stare of someone who cannot stop thinking. What had happened with Lucky Luke echoed in his mind; he felt control slipping from his fingers again. "To hell with it..." He got up to go to the bathroom and wash his face. He stared at his own reflection in the mirror: he was perfectly aware that he wasn't exactly a beauty, with that square chin and big nose, not to mention...

"I would still invite you to dance."

He half-slapped himself, telling himself to get his feet back on the ground and not get any silly illusions: Lucky had simply been nice, it was an easy thing to understand!

"At least now we are square."

Yet he still remembered the scene at the Indian restaurant. He looked at himself again: how could a charismatic former FBI agent be interested in someone like him? He shook his head: he had talked about becoming friends. "I'm an idiot. And he's just too charming at times. And cute... Damn!" He gave himself the other half of the slap. Back in bed, he tried to stop brooding: he had to sleep, he had a train to catch.

Cheyenne came to greet them at the station after taking her daughter to school. Advising them to be careful, she gave a big hug to her cousin and Joe, to whom she whispered like an apprehensive mother as a final recommendation to keep an eye on Lucky. Averell, William and Jack wanted to go with them, but their older brother had convinced them that they would be more useful there in Paris, not only to cover Joe from any questions from his colleagues about where he had gone, but because then William would follow along with Nat on their journey to the facility. The young hacker had equipped them with powerful but discreet ear transmitters so they could communicate, equipping them with a GPS chip to indicate their location once inside.

In the black backpack slung over Lucky Luke's shoulder was this, a square reddish leather briefcase and a soldier's uniform identical to that of the guards in the satellite photos.

Once they had set off, and found a free compartment, the two of them began to work out an itinerary: at Lucky's suggestion, there was only one bus in Nice that would take them where they wanted to go, or at least get close to it; the journey would take fifteen minutes and they would have the chance to catch it twice in the afternoon. The alternative was to hire a car, and Joe dug his heels in on that: it might attract attention of course, but it was a better option than public transport. Luke argued that it would be pointless to waste money that way, but he did it on purpose: he enjoyed teasing the other, who was right of course; he enjoyed seeing how much energy he put into defending his arguments. Finally, with a low laugh, he raised his hands in surrender: -All right, all right: car it is.-

Dalton had the impression that Lucky was making fun of him, but he got over it as he had won the argument. He looked out the window: the scenery changed rapidly, from the buildings of the Parisian suburbs to more and more wooded patches; their shades of green blended together as fast as the brushstrokes of a crazed artist. After what seemed like hours, Joe turned his attention back to his travelling companion, looking at him out of the corner of his eye: he was reading a book. He peeked at the title on the cover: "The Lost World".

-I adore Conan Doyle. Although contrary to many, I prefer his historical and adventure novels to detective stories.- Lucky's reply seemed to give voice to the other's thought, who replied: -How much time have I ignored you to the point of pushing you to read?- -About ten minutes. I thought you wanted to admire the scenery.- -Nah, I was just lost for a moment.- He composed himself again: -I didn't take you for a fan of the classics.- Luke tilted his head, questioningly. -Remember when we used to talk about stereotypical images? Mine towards you had become seeing you surrounded by piles of art history books. Instead, I find that there is also room for simple literature.- -I like to wander with my imagination from time to time.- He chuckled, closing the volume. -At least one of us is an eager reader.- -Come on, you must have a favourite genre, too.- -I don't know. But I do have a book I like a lot, even if it was a school read the first time.- The train slowed down. They were about to enter the first station on the route. -Which one is it?- - "The Count of Monte Cristo". I don't know, I find Dantes' story exciting, the way he manages to escape...-

The controller passed by asking to see the tickets; it did not take him more than thirty seconds to check that theirs were in order.

-Good. I'd say let's start putting on a touch-up.- Lucky grabbed the black backpack in the rack above his head: -Check to see if anyone approaches, Joe.- -What do you want to do?- -I'm going to prepare our cover.- He pulled out the reddish leather briefcase, which opened to reveal various latex facial prosthetics inside: noses of various shapes and colours, beards and moustaches, along with jars of make-up and modular mask moulds, which divided into blocks did not take up much space, plus wigs. -The mixture must be fresh, so the pigment powder sets better and looks more natural. That's why I have to prepare it now, at least for you- Luke explained, kneeling on the ground and arranging the necessary: -Blond or dark?- -Please?- -I need to know how to adapt the features of the mask according to what you want.- -I was thinking of an old man. White hair.- -All right, it's not complicated. I'll get to work; we have plenty of time.-

[cozylittleartblog]

wh what do you mean roulx is hottest in the kingdom(referencing the anon ask that's 'i loaf your deltarune art. it is very shape.')

anon im sorry to tell you this but at least three characters in ch1 call him hot or hunky, etc etc. which means his claim that he has "many admirers" is Not Bullshit. and i am so glad that after toby's last deltarune dev update, i now have TWO ridiculous images to think of when i have to be reminded that rouxls is. is canonically a hunk

This.

[frostedfaves]

No Space, No Time

The Honey Collection

Pairing: dark!CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha loves watching her temporary assistant squirm.

Warnings: dark!fic (18+ ONLY), strap mention, suggestive themes, Natasha once again abusing her authoritative power

A/N: I have nothing to add except that I am still taking dark!fic requests for other characters all month! see this post for details and also check the masterlist linked above for the previous installment of this collection :) let me know what you think!

-

It’s far from an exaggeration to say that the last week has been hell for you.

You have to admit that Natasha’s stunt in her bathroom was absolutely startling, but you’d be lying if you said you hated it. What you do hate is the fact that she hasn’t touched you at all since. But she has touched herself.

“Excuse me, Miss Romanoff?”

Natasha of course noticed your approach from the moment you stood from your desk, but she doesn’t acknowledge you until you call her a second time, successfully hiding a smirk at the shakiness in your tone. She slightly lowers the top half of her personal laptop sitting in front of her work monitors and makes eye contact with you, and you take it as a cue to continue.

“Sorry to bother you, but I need your signature on these forms before they go out.”

You drop the file in front of her and fold your hands behind your back as she wordlessly places her signature on each line. Once the file is back in your hands, you thank her and turn back to your desk, facing her again when she calls you.

“Yes?”

“What are you thinking we should have for lunch today?” 

She shifts in her chair, throwing one leg over the arm of it, and you try not to stare when her pants leg tightens and you notice something resting against her leg.

“I asked you a question, love.”

“Right, sorry. Um...” You cough a bit when you notice her hand running over the length. “I can never say no to pasta.”

“Perfect!” She grins as she opens her laptop again. “There’s a place around the corner I enjoy. You call in the reservation in my name and I’ll finish up here.”

You return to your desk as quickly as your slightly shaking legs will allow, looking up the restaurant and grabbing the phone to call in the reservation. As you’re waiting for someone to pick up, your eyes are drawn to Natasha’s hand grazing along the hidden strap, almost as if she’d forgotten she was doing it. You know she didn’t.

In the next hour, you’re seated in the restaurant, at one of the more secluded tables per Natasha’s request. She banters lightly with the waiter while you stare at the menu, trying and failing to read your options for lunch while your mind continues to linger on the fact that Natasha is absolutely packing once again.

“Damn it.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask while lowering your menu, and you nearly bite your tongue to prevent a noticeable reaction when you see her shirt unbuttoned enough to expose her breasts that are now covered in water.

“Just spilled a bit.”

She uses a cloth from her purse to pat herself dry, being slightly modest in the interest of being in public, but using slow and calculated motions that you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from. You’re incredibly disappointed when she buttons her shirt a bit more just before the waiter returns.

-

“Come here, honey.”

You’re pulled back into the present by Natasha’s voice as she beckons you over, and you save the document you’re working on before approaching her desk.

“What can I do for you, Miss Romanoff?”

Her expression remains neutral as she pats an empty space on her desk just beside where she’s sitting, and you hesitate a bit before rounding the desk to sit where she indicates.

“I’ve noticed you’re a bit distracted,” she says finally, and you instantly avert your gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

“Noth--”

“Look at me before you lie.”

You take a deep breath and make eye contact with her again, noticing her hands resting on her thighs again as you do so. Before you can get a word out, she speaks once more.

“These are really nice pants. Where did you get them from?” She rests her hand on the crotch area of your pants, her thumb pressing into your clit through two layers of fabric, and she chuckles quietly when you whimper instead of answering her properly. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

You nod your head quickly without thinking, beginning to grind against her hand for more pressure while she presses further and runs her thumb across the fabric in slow strokes. Her hand shifts, her fingers inching toward the waistband of your pants, and you sigh heavily when all she does is snap the waistband against your skin before pulling away entirely.

“I’d like to show you something tonight after work. Do you have plans?”

“No, I’m free.” You make a quick mental note to text your friends to cancel your dinner plans as Natasha rolls up your sleeve and begins writing an address on your arm.

“I expect you there at 7. Don’t be late.”

At exactly 6:59pm, you pass through security in Natasha’s building and take the elevator up to her floor. She opens the door as you approach it and ushers you inside quietly. She’s still wearing her work outfit, but the shirt is unbuttoned down past her incredibly revealing bra and her lipstick has been wiped away, most likely to avoid staining the glass of wine in her hand.

“Would you like one?” she asks when she sees your eyes on the glass.

“Just one. I drove here.”

Within seconds she has it in your hand, holding your other one as she begins giving you a tour of her penthouse. You admire every room, the artwork on the walls, what seems to be a custom design on all the furniture...and you try not to let your mind dwell on Natasha fucking you in the huge bed, shower stall, or secluded balconies.

“So what do you think?”

“Everything is beautiful,” you answer honestly. “But why did you want to show me this? If you’re selling it, I’m the wrong person to take over. I definitely can’t afford this.” 

“You don’t have to buy this place to live here.” Natasha guides you to the bed, lifting your hand to your mouth and tipping the wine glass to make you finish it in one gulp. “I simply wish I had someone to share the space with, a woman that wouldn’t have to worry about a single thing financially...sexually...”

“Sounds like you want a sugar baby.”

“No, I’d like an emotional attachment too,” she clarifies, placing her palm against your chin and running her thumb along your jaw. “It has to be someone willing to commit every bit of their time, love and attention only to me.” 

“That’s not a very realistic expectation, especially for someone who has family and friends, a whole life before they met you.” You try to stand but she cages you in by standing with either leg outside of yours.

“Honey, it’s a very realistic expectation for someone that wants to be a good girl for me.” She uses her tightened grip on your jaw to tilt your head down and kiss the top of it. “Take a few days to think about it.”

[onyourhyuck]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐊ᵃ𝐫𝐦𝐚. | 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐨.| (M) | PT 12.

synopsis; park areum is a small journalist who gets mistaken for a sex worker one day. she gets kidnapped and then given to lee jeno, an infamous mafia for creating war and havoc.

warnings; lower caps intended!!, this is part 12/ 20, action, fighting scenes, short love triangle, mafia romance, cursing/mature language, jeno falls in love hard, !jealous mafia jeno, enemies to lovers, smut!!, makeout scenes, gripping, degrading, praising, jeno is a bit of a dick but we been knew. park areum is a bad bitch <3.

previous part 11! | masterlink to other parts! | next part 13!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“you know when i said don’t leave my side?” areum sitting up slanted on the bed, spine lean on the head frame of the nurse bed. jeno who sat on the edge of the bed as well, clinging like a leech. areum did not mean by the phrase of ‘don’t leave’ to have jeno stick and care for her 24/7 all day.

“i did not mean that literally,” areum said bluntly.

he constantly asks if she likes this food or not, if he should make the soldiers remake it until it’s perfect; jeno wants areum to recover as soon as possible.

jeno looks at areum scoffing, “be grateful, i am a busy man.” areum rolling her eyes at the man “busy man, my ass” she said back , leaning down to take a mouthful from the soup jeno made for her to eat.

kun walks inside the nurse infirmary humming, long white coat flowing behind the graceful walk with the sharp shiny polish shoes. the man reaching for the tiny pocket where the round white glasses, putting them on as he grabs the file with areum’s name in red pen.

he gave a short smile towards areum once he looks up from the papers, “you seem to be getting better,” he congratulates.

areum hums, “thank you doc!” kun nods and glances to jeno, “why are you always here though?” he questions.

the younger man rubs the nape coughing, “areum begged me to stay,” this was the only excuse he could come up with. the girl opening her mouth, jaw dropping at the unbelievable lies. “yah yah yah, you’re lying.”

“oh really?” jeno said, areum nods back quickly replying confidently. “yeah really!”

the girl saw him leaning to close to her face, with a teasing smile he slowly mimics words that areum felt her face heat up hearing. “oh please jeno! don’t leave my side.” jeno would exaggerate with a high pitch tone to mimic areum’s voice— in reality it sounded nothing like a girl but more like a ninety year old grandfather.

areum was so distracted by jeno’s handsome features but once hearing him talk— all the attractiveness left threw the window. “i do not sound like that lee jeno,” areum bantered forward with short laughter.

jeno smiles, jesting to areum “okay then, help me out. you say it instead that way it’ll sound exactly like you.” areum softly tap jeno’s shoulder pushing him away the more he jokes back. “no you’re trying to make me say it! Not falling for that,” areum said.

kun watching the two be completely in their own world, he soon turns to the door that opens wide revealing a tan boy with a white hoodie on and shorts, beside him was a slightly taller male with light brown hair, smiling eyes connecting to areum.

“haechan, jaemin” kun said catching jeno’s and areum’s attention. areum waves at the boys but jeno only greets one boy and left the other boy out in the cold.

jaemin did not acknowledge jeno instead he walks to areum, smiling ear to ear. “how are you feeling, areum?” it was filled with such genuine emotion, areum softly smiles something that she hardly does with jeno. the soft emotions? never heard of them.

hyuck hums loudly before moonwalking backwards towards jeno, he earned himself a glare when jeno intentionally trips haechan up. why? because he felt like it. areum and jaemin are now making him third wheel so he feels completely left out. haechan just happened to be the perfect person to direct that jealousy issue on to.

“ow! what was that for jeno,” haechan whines rubbing the butt area when he got up slowly. “you annoyed me,” jeno plainly replies.

areum breathes outside the mansion feeling more freedom than she ever felt before, if only she could see jisung now. she puts the sad thoughts away, walking around the heavily guarded perimeter of the large building.

some were armed on the rooftop, some men were on the entrance watching areum like she was a little mouse awaiting to be caught by them.

the fresh oxygen inhaled through the recovering body was the perfect medicine for her. areum sits on the swing she found, taking a glance on the white bandage right hand.

her slim fingers unwrap the thick layers of the medical band-aid very slowly, observing how bad the wound actually is. once areum examines, she notices the prickling dry blood and many scars, a hollow empty hole in the middle of each finger due to the missing nail.

she wasn’t exactly sure what to feel but it wasn’t a pretty sight. a figure brought areum’s attention away from the hand, the soft boy gave a worrisome look.

“let me have a look at it, kun told me to put on the medicine on for your hand.” jaemin softly quoted their medic kun, areum without any protests let’s the boy move the hand towards him where he sat on the second swing next to it.

jaemin gently starts to spray the antiseptic on the wound, areum flinching at the burning sensation. the leo boy looks up in alert, “shit shit sorry,” he whispers, suddenly bringing lips close to blow on her fingers.

areum would hold down her tongue, flustered by this gesture she is looking at. “jaemin..” her lips slowly let out.

“is that better?” jaemin asks as he attends to her hand by wrapping it again in the bandages slowly taking the time to do it properly, he was so gentle and wholesome with areum.

she felt like jaemin was every girl’s dream guy. perfect at everything, attentive and caring. areum hums, teasingly speaking. “your future wife is lucky to have you.”

jaemin lightly chuckles, “oh really, how come?” his big brown eyes shift to areum when he finally let’s go off the hand, she starts to slowly rock back and forth very gently—.

“it’s just the feeling I’m getting, you’ll probably be the type of husband to take care of his wife every minute of the day.” jaemin hearing the girl’s explanation casts a small smile on his lips.

“no one has ever told me that,” jaemin side tracks before swinging back and forth with areum. the girl glancing to the beautiful boy under the sunlight, illuminating the features of his honey dew orbs.

she’d hum, “then i’m your first!” she exclaims happily. “you’re awfully cute areum.” he softly vows. jaemin gave her a raise eyebrow, when he saw areum blush in response, saying nothing. it’s as if the girl was looking for a way to respond but couldn’t.

“I’m not that cute,” she divulges to the man, swinging higher on the swing, breeze hitting the face blowing back the brunette locks, the boy swore he saw a princess beside him, not just an average girl— a literal princess. aruem had features resembling of a disney character, the way her bouncy bangs rest well on the forehead— eyes loop-side when she doesn’t like the taste of something, her nose scrunching up whenever haechan would pull a prank on her causing areum to be deadpan flustered; areum’s talkative lips whenever someone brings up something of interest to her.

she was in his eyes perfect, jaemin didn’t ask the world to make him cross paths with areum, he sometimes wishes he never met her; because this way aruem could live her life, live the life she WANTS. not the life she has to do.

jaemin felt slightly offended when areum does not see what he sees in her. he stood up slightly approaching in front of the swing, the girl pushes down the feet stopping the swing suddenly from swinging because the boy was coming up to her.

the boy wraps hands on the side of the swing as he closes space between areum and him, leaning down to where her face was just inches from each other, areum folding lips together in surprise, although no words were spoken.

jaemin takes a moment observing the way the sunlight was shining down on her beautiful eyes, the way her dark brown eyes, hint of yellows in it together— makes it look like a pool of warm coffee.

“if I could, I would make you mine, that’s how cute you are, areum.” jaemin mesmerised to the flustered girl.

“do you still think you are not cute?” he repeats forward, areum lightly side trails from the words he is speaking. “come on, jaemin-“

“fine you’re not cute,” jaemin suddenly said causing areum to frown. “areum you are more than that. you are beautiful, everyone wants you more than you think. you’re ethereal and captivating, out of this world.” he slowly caresses the side of her cheek lovingly with his thumb. heart running wild as if it was a marathon, areum looking up to see jaemin’s full affectionate stare.

oh how badly he wishes to kiss her beautiful pink lips right there and then. he slowly leans closer to her forehead as his hand lifts the bangs, jaemin pecking the very top of it. areum lightly tugs on the his sleeves gently in response of the small loving kiss happening.

“jaemin no one has ever said that to me,” areum admits softly in embarrassment, who knew someone could say this much things to someone so easily?

areum was met with a loving and proud smile. “then i’m your first,” he said quoting on areum’s words previously. he felt a small achievement knowing that he is not the only one who wants areum all to themselves.

from outside where areum and jaemin stood together talking, was a figure watching from their window; standing with their facial expression arching in the most unbearable upsetting emotion they ever possibly felt. gritting teeth at the sight of areum snuggling closer to jaemin, and having the boy kneel down to kiss the forehead so sweetly.

jaemin and areum were talking their entire day away until it became super dark outsider, the two weren’t aware at the time but once they did; jaemin immediately offered the idea to go back inside the mansion.

the two walk side by side down the second hallway all snickering and giggling under their breathe. jaemin gently leans towards areum slightly pushing her up the front.

the girl looks back holding back a soft smile when she felt the way jaemin slightly push forward, even the way he touches her was so weak and gentle. it is hard to believe jaemin is in the mafia and in the second in command role!

the two met eyes with jeno who stops in their way, darkly staring at the two as he looks on his expensive wide watch. jaemin’s happy expression faded the moment he knew jeno was not happy at all, the feeling of knowing what’s to come. areum looks up at the man in confusion, waiting for jeno to say something. what could possibly be the problem? the two had no idea what jeno wants.

“why the hell are you back so late?” jeno spat with brittle in his tone, areum was shock to hear this coming from the fact that they were literally behind the mansion not even out of sight from anyone. “we weren’t even out for that long.” the girl monotonously said back not understanding why jeno is acting this way, it’s ridiculous at this point.

jaemin clears his throat pushing areum on the side with his hand out protectively. he quickly switched from jaemin into a soldier, speaking out in an dutiful voice. “it is my fault, i should’ve brought her back in sooner.”

jeno cocks his raised eyebrow forward, crossing hands together, revealing the heavy muscles through the black shirt, “yeah you’re right, you should’ve done that. why did you not do it then?” words piercing through jaemin’s obedient soldier persona. he looks down clenching his fists tightly.

“i forgot sir.” jaemin replies. jeno arrogantly spat, “exactly what i thought. for someone in second in command you must think you’re something special,” he comes forward to the lighter brunette, lips in front opening widely. “but you’re nothing compared to me.” Jeno speaks in undertone, jaemin stood still and silent as a mice— searching for his inner voice to speak out. but he cannot fight with jeno.

he is his best friend even in their argument. jaemin was the first one to put away the pride, instead he stays calm. he finally nods towards jeno, “yes sir.”

areum watching jaemin take the scolding makes the man seem selfless. he was truly an angel in his past life because he has never done anything wrong as far as areum is aware.

jeno turns to areum grabbing a hold of her left wrist, “and you, you’re coming with me.”

those authoritative words created the atmosphere to thicken, areum said nothing but small protests, glancing back to jaemin when she is being dragged by jeno into his bedroom. the way jeno brings the girl in was by slipping her on the bed and then immediately shutting the door close behind him, he pulls away his watch as he sighs into the air.

areum would stand up and jeno points back to the bed, “sit back down.” his dark voice roars. areum glares, sitting back down on the bed. “what the fuck jeno, why did you bring me here?”

he doesn’t know why himself. jeno brings himself to look at areum approaching forward. “stay away from jaemin.”

the sudden question itself confused the young woman, she lets out a small ‘huh?’ before thinking back on how stupid this is. she purse her lips in a thin line, sternly speaking out in a voice that is hoarse. “no, he is my friend.”

he exclaims with a fake laugh, “a friend? areum, are you blind?” jeno points with a hand pressed down roughly on the forehead, right where jaemin had pressed the kiss.

areum quickly pushes his hand away standing up, “jeno you don’t control me, what exactly is your problem with him?”

“everything, he sucks up to you!” jeno points out watching areum stand up, the girl furrowing eyebrows to his words. he wasn’t sure why he is doing this himself, he was subconsciously letting out the inner feelings he was bottling up for a while.

areum let’s out a large sneer at jeno, “No jeno being friendly is not sucking up to someone, instead learn from jaemin because you need to use it. also, jaemin is the only one in this damn mansion who i truly like.” she walks past jeno and the boy turns around grabbing the wrist, pulling areum back in his chest.

“take that back,” jeno said clenching down the jaw, areum grits her teeth as she pulls back the wrist,pushing her own body from jeno. “no i won’t take it back.” areum spat, continuing.

“the fact that you are treating your best fucking friend this way is even more out of pocket, it makes you seem like more of a dick than you actually are.” jeno would pause staying still listening to the words that stab right through his heart; knowing deep down that she is right, he is treating jaemin like shit, someone who was in his life for nineteen years. areum sighs out, “i don’t care what happened between you two but don’t drag me into your couple quarrels.”

with her final words she walks out with the door being slammed shut, jeno rubs down his temples wondering if he was actually the mafia boss or if areum was one in disguise. the girl literally slammed down his expensive door without care, yelled at him and even scolded him in the process of doing that.

haechan runs into areum as he waves stopping midway, expression faltering once seeing a very pissed off areum walking past him, “what is with your expression?” he calls out looking back at areum.

“long story short, i just saved a relationship, someone give me a damn medal” she’d huff out in a tired voice, haechan raises his eyebrows at her. “well i most certainly won’t be surprised if they breakup then listening to your advice.” he retorts

“very funny haechan,” areum fake laughs as she then crosses arms. “it was jeno and jaemin.” she continues.

“that’s strange they hardly fight,” he replies walking away. “I’m sure they will sort it out soon, them lot are like two peas in a pod.”

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@onyourhyuck please refer from copyrighting and plagiarising my work!

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@neocrackcity second blog where i chat to followers and reblog my fics~ㅋㅋㅋ

[theperfectlovestory]

Even If It's Not

Summary: It’s always been a good day with Natasha, until Wanda found you

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader; Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Theme: Fluff, Angst

Tw: trauma, reaction to trauma, mention of death

. . .

Summary: it’s always been a good day with Natasha, until Wanda found you

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader; Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Theme: Fluff, Angst

Tw: trauma, reaction to trauma, mention of death

. . .

It was one fine day, like all the others for the past year. You woke up early, sunlight warmly casting on your face as it peaked through the opening of the curtain. You can hear birds chirping in the background, making you smile

You blinked the sleep away from your eyes, raising a hand to your mouth to cover the incoming yawn. As you move, a warm arm enveloped you, and you smiled at the sight of her

This side of her only coming out when it’s just the two of you

Your beautiful redhead sleeping soundly in your arm, head tucked comfortably in your neck. An arm and a leg on top of your body, clinging to you like a baby koala

You always can't believe that the famous Natasha Romanoff, feared by friends and foes alike in the battlefield, is one hell of a clingy sleeper

You turn your head gently, glancing at the clock on your bedside table

Time to wake up. No work today but you wanted to get some groceries to fill your stocks

You tried to gently wiggle your way out of Natasha's hold, silently cheering when you got out of bed without waking her up. Natasha's soft giggle prove you otherwise, making you pout

"I'll go back to sleeping then" she huskily said before hugging your pillow and burying her face in your smell, curling herself on the bed

You watched her body relax as she falls deep in slumber once more, smiling softly at how peaceful she seemed to be

"I'm going grocery shopping, want to come?" You asked Natasha in between bites, she looked up at you from the file folder she have

She's still doing reports, doesn't mean your on mission vacation, paperwork will do themselves as well

"I'll be wherever you are, detka" she smiled, sipping on her coffee "just let me finish this one and we can go"

You nodded, collecting the plates in front of you, Natasha pursed her lips, debating on wanting to wash the dishes herself since you cooked or finishing the report fast so you can go

You smiled, kissing her cheeks before taking the dishes on the sink. You hummed softly as you finish it up, Natasha, smiling while she listens. Whenever you are around, her paperwork doesn't feel as much a burden as it usually does

Done with the dishes, you went up to your room and changed into more appropriate clothes. As you put on your shirt, Natasha entered just fast enough to see what color of bra you are wearing underneath

She grin, standing behind you as she held your waist, kissing the side of your neck softly, innocently

Yet her intentions are far from one

"Nat" you warned as she nibble on your ear, she continued, right hand going up inside your shirt, your stomach now in full view of the mirror in front of you "we have to go" you moaned as she suck on the right spot under your ear, whining that you need to leave and she's messing up your hair...

"We can go a bit later" she answered, eyes meeting yours on the mirror "we can't, we have a reservation at that restaurant you like"

She grunted in your neck "I am not liking it very much right now" she muttered and you chuckled. Stepping forward before facing her

You pressed a gentle hand on her cheek "Come on, we rarely go out"

She looked at your eyes for a bit before giving up "fine" she softly answered, taking the hand in your face with hers, just as gently

. . .

"Can you pass me one of those bell peppers" you pointed at the container with 3 pieces of what you need. You smiled when Natasha picked one with just the right mixture of red and green. Small things like this are what you love about her. She only asked once and then remember it forever

"Is there a reason why you choose a combination of both and not just the green or the red?"

You thought for a while, blinking at the question you can barely remember the answer "I've always just done it because my mom does that too but I think it's because it's the most perfect condition to either store it or use it immediately"

Her mouth made an 'o' shape, signaling her understanding of the topic

"Oh detka, strawberries" her eyes sparkled as she put at least three packs of it in your cart, you giggled "isn't that too many?"

She looked at you, disbelief in her face "Do you know how much you devour them?" She asked and you chuckled "They're like your favorite thing in the world, you even prefer them more than my lips" she pouted, your fond smile never left your lips as you pulled her in for a kiss

"Now I know you are exaggerating, there is nothing more I love than your lips" you squint "well maybe except for your eyes"

You continued pushing the cart as her cheeks gets dusted in pink, you added a few more, items from the fridge isle before going on the dry goods

You passed by a small and portable fondue fountain, you eyed it along with the chocolates on the side

"Do you want that?" She asked, looking over your shoulder

"I'm interested," you hummed, "but is it worth it?" you sighed "we won't be able to use it as much when we get back to work"

"We can bring it there then and the boys and Wanda can have their fun, Wanda likes chocolate" at the mention of your bestfriends name, your eyes lit up

Now slightly more convinced

She leaned closer, whispering things you can do with the melted chocolate on the kitchen table. Your face blushed furiously as you hit her in the arm but despite that, you took a box and a bunch of carefully picked chocolate

She chuckled, eyes hooded with the thoughts too dirty to be even thinking about in the middle of the grocery aisle

You then looked around some more. Your list has been fulfilled but you opted to roam around to get some snacks or check new things the store has. Natasha obediently followed. Checking the items too and getting some that interests her

Mostly snacks

After you are satisfied with your purchase, you go to the cashier to pay. You will opt for a self serves but they only allow 20 items below, and your cart is obviously more than 20

The cashier greeted you with a smile, you doing the same. Making small talks to try and make the day easier for the kind worker. Natasha smiled admiringly at how easy you are to have a conversation with

The cashier is all smiles even after you paid and left

"I have always admired the way you do that" she said as she help you put the bag on the trunk of your car

"Do what?" You asked, tilting your head

"Talking to people, making them feel comfortable"

You nodded, humming as you continued with your task "It wasn't always as easy, but it comes with the job"

"I refuse to believe that you weren't always rainbows and sunshine" she argued and you chuckled

"Darling, I'm an introvert, the mere mention of conversation terrifies me" she looked at you dumbfounded for a second and you did the same just with an amuse smile instead

"Guess you learn something new everyday even when you are technically, already married" she muttered, closing the trunk "what else don't I know about you?"

She opened the door for you and you got in, making sure to shake of the bottom of your shoes to remove at least a bit of dust on it, Natasha smiled at the gesture

She closed the door once you are settled and got on hers, doing the same as you did before starting the car, making sure it's heat up properly first before starting to drive

You sat in silence for a few second as you think of things she doesn't know yet "well, I used to date guys" her eyes widen, looking back at you then back on the road

"Really?" She asked "what changed?"

"Nothing" you shrug "I just didn't realize I was into girls, the norm is being straight after all, but the first kiss I had with a guy was nothing compared to my first kiss with a girl"

She hummed, "and when was your first kiss with one?"

The conversation flowed seamlessly in your head, every smile and chuckles and groans she responded you with was embed in your memory

. . .

As per your usual arrangement, you and Natasha arrived at the restaurant at different times. Wanting to keep the surprised of seeing each other dressed up beautifully, knowing full well it’s to please the person who will be sitting in front of the other

You arrived in your newly bought shiny short dress with a lot of skin showing but still very decent. You’ve done your hair perfectly that it frames your face and your make up is a bit fiercer, bolder. You wanted to surprise Natasha, show her a different side than the usual girl-next-door

Her brow lifted up, lips in a side smile of surprise. You look edgier than her tonight and it’s making her feel all kind of things in her stomach

“Of course, I can’t go losing you to competition now” you smirk jokingly

She pulled your chair for you and you sat down, she leaned down and gave you one more kiss, not being able to resist the temptation of your red and plump lips

“Competition?” she chuckled, sitting down “We are married, detka, you already trampled all over them”

“Well, you never know”

The dinner continued with all playful banters, giggles and Natasha’s flirting techniques that you admit, did something to you. Not because of the lines, but because of who and how she’s saying it

 Along the lines, someone approached your table and that stopped you from talking to each other. You looked at the person and was surprised to see Wanda

“Wanda?” You called, standing up slowly as you take in her appearance

She looks tired, defeated, broken

“Y/n” she muttered, looking at you with sad eyes “Where have you been?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, lips into a gentle yet confuse smile as you held her arms “I’m on a break, but you know where we live”

“We?” She asked and you nodded “Yeah, with Natasha…are you okay?” you tilt your head to get a closer look on her face “Y/n…” she said, biting her lips “Natasha’s gone”

Your hand gripped the woman tightly as your mind reeled “Wanda…what are you saying?”

“She..” Wanda’s lower lip trembled, her eyes tight shut before she sighed, meeting you with her tired green eyes “She’s gone…she sacrificed herself for the world…don’t you remember?”

A chuckle left your lips, devoid of any humor. You stepped back, hands crossing on your chest “That’s a cruel joke, Wanda” you took a deep shaky breathe “I was just with her the whole time, she is literally right there” You pointed at Natasha who smiled at you like nothing is happening

Your brows furrowed and you were so focus on Natasha that you didn’t notice Wanda’s hand raised to your temple, eyes red and red wisp of energy flowing at the tip of your fingers

Your eyes widened in horror as the Natasha in front of you, smiling as lovely as you remember, slowly turned to ash, pieces of her flowing in the air. Your shaking hand covered your mouth to stop a scream that will never come, stuck in your chest like a painful rock that wedged itself in your lungs

Wanda moved further in your brain

You were back with Natasha in your dining room, eating breakfast and before she could kiss you, she disappeared again into ashes. The same thing happened to when you are on the grocery, before she can put the strawberries in your cart, her body flew away in the air, and the contents of the package spilling on the floor, strawberries roll on your foot as the scene changes again

This time, it’s Natasha and you sleeping on the bed, her arm and leg draped on your body. She tucked her head closer to your neck, this scene that you’ve been watching for the past year that brings you love and warmth and comfort now gives you dread

And pain

Your breathing has become shaky and erratic as you tried to forget the scenes before this one where she all but disappeared into thin air. As if noticing your discomfort, Natasha opened her eyes and called your name

“Nat” you managed to croaked despite the lump in your throat as tears well in your eyes

 Instead of asking the usual ‘are you okay?’ though, she smiled sadly, her face change to that time that happened a year ago

 Her hair in a braid, face white with worry and fear but she remained brave, determined “You’ll be okay” she whispered, hand caressing your face “You will be okay, my love”

 And then, as if the gods have cursed you to a life of loss and pain and suffering, you again, had to watch her disappear. Ashes taken by the wind, her smile never faded, not then, not now…and the three words you never thought would be the last, echoed in your memory

 You stood in front of Wanda, shoulders shaking from crying. Wanda pulled you close to her as she let you cry, whispering reassurances that she will always be by your side and yet, you can’t say the same

 “Wanda, you need to move on as well” Wanda’s tears started the moment yours stopped, you pulled away from her, but keeping her at an arm’s length “You deserve to be happy”

 Your face looked so peaceful despite what you just did, the scars from the battle scattered across your face and yet, to her, you were beautiful still. She pulled you closer to her, her body trembled before you and she watched, and felt, and embraced the feeling

 She whispered in your ears before your body truly disappears, just like Natasha’s “I thought I’m ready to let you go” she sniffed “But I was wrong”. Red magic surrounded the whole area once again, just like from when she arrived in the house you bought for Natasha and you

 "Even if you didn't choose me in this world too, I would just gladly be beside you. As long as you are here, I wouldn't care."

 And once again, you open your eyes. Natasha comfortably cuddled next to you as your lips turned into a satisfied smile…

 . . .

 A/N: "Even if you didn't choose me (don't love me) in this world too, I would just gladly be beside you. As long as you are here, I wouldn't care." (Credit to my wonderful angsty friend @my-wandering-rabbit for crushing my heart with this wonderful line and the title of this story)

[felix21im]

"Ice Cold", a Leon Kennedy x reader fanfiction

As an Art and Design student all you want to do is just knuckle down and finish that one goddamn piece you've been working on for months. Too bad your time is constantly stolen by your Waiter job with minimal pay, but hey, at least the tips are good if you unbutton your shirt that one more time.

Masterlist

Chapter 1: Bourbon

“That’s gotta be moved over like two inches to the left.” You muttered to yourself. Your eraser ran across the sketches and removed the pencil lines that you had created earlier. Studying interior design was one of the best ways to secure you that internship you’ve been working so hard for.

“Yoo hoo!” A whistle was heard from beside you, your fellow colleague and best friend tapped you on the shoulder, pulling you out of your study-induced trance. “You’ve got another table to serve. They literally just sat down so make sure that you greet them.” You let out a sigh, laying your latest drawing to the side. On the way to the table you check your hair in a mirror before putting on a smile. You can see two middle aged men talking while looking at multiple files placed on the table. You walk toward them. "Good evening, is there anything I can get for the two of you?"

The larger man with the shorter hair began to speak for the both of them. “Two bourbons please.” He said simply.

“Will they be with ice?” You ask, beginning to write down their drinks order on your small notepad.

“Yeah I’ll have ice in mine please.” The one with longer hair requested with a polite point and a smirk. The other man simply shook his head at the question of ice. You smiled at the two of them as you turned around. A few minutes later you return with both of their drinks and put them in front of them, being careful not to spill anything over their work-stuff. They both thank you with a small nod before you go around to your other tables. A few hours pass and people come and go but these two men still sit at their table, talking, drinking and taking some notes. You went over to their table a few times that evening to refill their drinks or bring some small things to nibble on, but you couldn't find out what they were talking about. It seems that as soon as you went over to them they changed the subject. “A super secret mission.” You chuckled to yourself as you stood at the bar, packing your study materials away. You can’t clean a bar with books and paper all over it.

While cleaning you heard someone clear their throat and you looked up. In front of you stood one of the men, the one with longer hair. “Oh my, excuse me. Can I help you with anything?” The man chuckled lightly and looked at the mess in front of you. “My friend over there and I wanted to get another drink before paying. But it seems you are quite busy here.” You looked at the mess and then at him and you couldn’t stop yourself from checking him out. It seems he noticed it, but didn't say anything. “I’m sorry for that, it won’t happen again. I’ll deliver your drinks to your table right away!” The man nodded and went back to his friend, sitting directly opposite them but also facing the direction of the bar. You let out a small sigh before putting the books away and preparing the drinks for the men. The man never said what drinks he wanted but considering the two of them have only been drinking bourbon, bourbon was a good choice. Before starting you tightened your apron, greatly exaggerating your waist, although you could barely breathe you knew that it made you more attractive to patreons. The patreons liking you equals more tips. While making the drinks you made sure to add enough ice in the second drink, so they just might forgive you for your behaviour. As you placed the two glasses on your serving tray you noticed the long haired man give you a small smirk. You went to their table once more and put the beverages in front of them while smiling at both of them. You also left a bill on the table before heading back to the bar, the echo of your shoes making you feel anxious as you walked, causing you to begin holding your tray in both of your hands in front of your stomach. On your way back you heard one of the men say something, which made the short haired one shake his head. You were wondering if they talked about something you did but didn’t want to be rude and ask them about it. It was pretty late already so only a few other people were still at the restaurant. You wanted to get home at some point that night so you hoped that the last guests would be leaving soon. Just as you thought that, you saw the two men you were serving get up and leave the restaurant. Before going through the exit door the man with longer hair looked back at you and gave you a wink. You let out a small laugh and shook your head. You went to the table they left from to clean up and collect the money. You noticed a small note with something written on it. A phone number, you realised. “Call me ;)” was written beside it. You looked around and put the piece of paper in your pocket with a light smile on your face. That smile quickly turned into a shocked face though as you noticed a massive tip laying next to the bill. You didn't even know what to do, so you just stood there looking at the money. As you looked at the flurry of green bills you could hear footsteps behind you and soon your coworker stood next to you, also looking at the money.

“Well, someone seems to like you”, they laughed “Maybe those apron and shirt tricks you do work too well.” You shook your head and left your coworker standing there as they chuckled at their joke.

A little while later the restaurant was empty thanks to the closing hours, and you cleaned the last tables. But before you had the chance to leave as well, you saw the door opening once again. “I’m sorry, we’re closed!” You looked up and saw the long haired man standing in the doorway. Other than just his hair you could instantly tell it was him, the fancy suit helped a lot. “Did you forget anything? I actually think you left too much money when you left with your friend.” You picked up the cash that was placed in an envelope under the bar and began to get the money out of it. “I can give it right back to you, if that's why you came back.”

The man shook his head and slightly chuckled. “No, the tip was meant to be like that. I was actually wondering..”, he stepped closer toward the bar you were standing at. “..Why didn't you text me yet.”

You had to laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe I didn’t have the time yet because I had some work to do and you left that note like ten minutes ago!” You chuckled yet again. “Trust me I was going to call you!”

Now it was his time to let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, I'm sure you would have. Anyways, now that I’m here again and it seems your work is done, how about we get your favorite drink together?”

“I mean we are closed…” You raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms over your puffed out chest. “But I’ll let you get a drink this one time.” He seemed satisfied with that answer so he sat down on one of the bar chairs, followed by him tapping the empty space next to him. “At least let me make your drink before I sit down!” You playfully rolled your eyes and began pouring liquor into a shaker. You noticed him looking at his phone after receiving a message from someone. “Someone at home is missing you already?” You asked jokingly as you placed your fruity, yet strong, favourite drink on the bar.

He shook his head. “Not at all. Just my.. Colleague asking what I'm up to.” He put his phone on the counter. You went around the bar and pushed a glass towards the man and sat down on the empty stool beside him. “I never got your name. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” He smirked as he took a sip from the drink. “Not bad.”

You chuckled as you pointed at the name tag that was attached to your shirt. The man looked at you dumbfounded. “Well, this is awkward now. Doesn't seem like a fair trade anymore.”

“I’ll just hope that you were being respectful and you didn’t want to look at my chest.” You winked and couldn’t contain your laughter as you did up the buttons on your shirt, hiding the “money makers” as your best friend would call them. The man looked at your chest for a moment as you did up your buttons before quickly looking away. You could see his face get a little red, although you weren't sure if it was a reaction to what you just said or the alcohol finally showing effect. He cleared his throat and seemed to want to change the subject. “Ehem..the name’s Leon S. Kennedy, by the way.”

“Ooo S. Kennedy huh? Am I going to have to guess what the S stands for?” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you talked.

“Go for it.” He laughed and took another sip of the drink.

“Uhhh… Steven?” A head shake. “Sam?” A no again. ”Sexy?” A chuckle but still a no. “Ugh I give up!”

“It’s Scott.”

“Scott, huh? Sounds kinda cute.” You laughed as you looked at Leon and then the clock behind him. “Even though we haven’t spent much of an evening together we’re going to have to call it quits, I have to lock up now.”

Leon turned around to look at the clock. “That’s a shame.” He turned back to face you. “Y’know I’ve got some drinks back at my place if you’re interested.” He raised his eyebrows as he asked for the date to continue.

You thought about the offer for a moment, you didn’t have any classes in the morning so maybe it would be fun. “Wine?” You asked and he replied with a nod. As the two of you stood up from your stools you quickly paced around the restaurant making sure everything was perfect. The lights were off. All of the switches were off. And finally the security alarm was turned on. You shuffled Leon along as you left the restaurant, making sure that he wasn’t trapped in there when you locked the door. “Alright, that’s everything!” You placed your keys into your work bag and slung it over your shoulder. As the two of you walked to the parking lot you looked down at your phone and secretly texted your roommate saying you were going to be out much longer than anticipated and that your location was being shared with them. Just in case.

Leon fished his keys out of his pocket and tapped a button on the car keys, causing a nearby car to light up. With the size of that tip that Leon left an expensive black sports car belonging to him shouldn’t have been a surprise. “Woah! What car is this?” You asked, not knowing anything about cars apart from the fact that most of them have four wheels.

“It’s a Porsche Nine-Eleven.” He replied. “It’s my favourite.”

“Your favourite? Meaning you have multiple cars?” You questioned. “Can I borrow one? I don’t even have a car.” You chuckled as you opened the door to the luxury car. Leon chuckled too as he got into his seat and tapped a few buttons on the dashboard. The entire car began to roar as it’s engine was turned on, making your entire body shake. Making your entire body heat up. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?” You asked.

He chuckled. “It’s because your heated seat is on. I can turn it off if you would like.”

As the car traveled you looked out of the window and when turning to your left you noticed that the lights in the car softly lit up Leon’s face as he drove the car. Showing off his sharp jaw and slight stubble.

After a twenty minute drive you step out of the car onto the gravel driveway and you hear the stones crunching underneath your feet. Leon walks up beside you and leads you up the stairs to the front door. Reaching into his front right pocket he pulls out his keys and unlocks the double doors, allowing you to walk through before he did so too and then close the door behind him. “Woah! You have such a cool house!” The large modern chandelier reflected onto the marble flooring in the entryway. Leon kicked off his shoes and pushed them over to the side of the wall, prompting you to do the exact same. “You have no idea how much I hate these shoes, they are so uncomfortable, especially when you wear them for twelve hour shifts without sitting down.”

“Why on earth do you wear them if they hurt you?” He asks as he takes off his jacket, hanging it up on a coat rack beside the door. He reaches out his hand to take off yours as well, to which you respond with a smile. You turn around and he carefully takes it off of you, followed by him then placing it on the coat rack next to his own.

"I don't have much to choose from when it comes to clothing. Just in general our work uniforms aren't really the best of the best."

Together the two of you went into the kitchen and you sat at a bar stool, leaning on the counter. As you waited for Leon to fix you up a drink you noticed just how empty the house has been so far. “Wow it’s quite empty, going for the minimalistic vibe huh?”

Leon shook his head as he placed two wine glasses down on the counter, both with ice. “I just haven’t gotten around to decorating this place yet.” He poured both glasses full and sat then leant on the counter in front of you, placing your drink next to your hand. “I mean I’ve only been here for like 3 years but I’m a busy man.”

You picked up your drink and almost dropped it after hearing that response. "Three years? You must be reaaally busy if you didn't have time for at least some decoration. What are you doing all the time anyway?" You took the drink and a small sip before standing up with it still in your hand. Leon looked at you kind of confused, but following you nevertheless. You walked around the kitchen, then the other rooms. You were talking nonstop about the stuff Leon could put on the walls, the floor or just anywhere really. He couldn't even say anything because it seems you were in your own world already planning the entire interior design of his house. Leon was following you through all the rooms as if he was actually visiting you and not the other way around. While planning the designs for Leon’s home you realised just how excited you were to do this officially as a job in the future. Creating your own interior design company and being your own boss was something you had in mind ever since you were a child. After who knows how long you both finished your drinks and also the house tour. You ended back at the kitchen where you started and both sat down on what seems to be the only chairs in this humongous house. Leon went away for a few seconds before returning with yet another bottle of what appeared to be some expensive wine. “You’re not just trying to get me super drunk so you can kidnap me, right?” You asked him jokingly, but also slightly worried. After all, what were you doing here in a complete strangers house?

“If I was going to kidnap you I would have done it already, buttercup.” You gulped but shrugged it off after looking at Leon, who smiled at you. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad being kidnapped by him. He's got quite the nice home after all. Leon stopped you in your thoughts as he handed you a glass of wine. "It's really good, trust me. Nothing against your favourite drink, but still very tasty." You took a little sip from the wine and looked at him with big eyes.

"Wow. This is actually really good. I've tasted many different brands of wine but never one like this. You do know your stuff, huh?"

He let out a small laugh which also made you smile. You didn't know if it was the alcohol but you suddenly felt really hot sitting so close to this handsome man. "Anyway, what are you doing besides working at that restaurant? I saw some school books at the bar earlier, were they yours?"

You nodded lightly. "I'm currently studying Art and Design but I needed some money to even afford all that stuff. So that's why I ended up at that restaurant." He looked at you, maybe even a little sad. But maybe you just started imagining things.

"You don't have any family that supports you or anything?"

You shook your head. "That's kind of a difficult topic. My parents aren't really what they used to be after.. well, let's just say some inconveniences." You took another big sip, showing Leon that you didn't wanna talk about it anymore. Even though he wanted to ask, he stopped himself before ruining the whole evening, or well, night. You sighed and looked at him. "On our tour I think we missed the bathroom. Mind showing me the way?" He nodded and led you through the house. As you were in the bathroom Leon went up to his workroom and picked up an envelope. He went downstairs again and hid the filled envelope in one of your jackets' pockets. After a while you rejoined him in the kitchen looking really tired. "Leon, I don't wanna sound rude but I’ve had a long day and I think I really need some sleep. Do you mind calling me a taxi?" He saw just how tired you were so he didn't try to make you stay any longer. He grabbed his phone, called you a taxi and gave you some money for it.

You wanted to decline, but Leon didn't want to argue so you had no chance but to pay with his money. "I brought you here in the first place so the least I can do is pay for your ride home", he said. You both then went to the entrance where Leon helped you put on your jacket. After that you both sat down outside on the stairs waiting for the taxi to arrive. Neither of you said a word, but it wasn't a weird silence, you both really enjoyed each other's company and after a few moments of sitting on the cold stairs a car arrived. Leon brought you to the door and you told the driver your address. You gave Leon a small wave as the taxi began to drive off...

[bees--in-my--bones]

Mission: New Asgard

Character: Loki x reader (completely gender neutral. There are zero indications of the readers gender, no pronouns at all. Note that this is written from the perspective of a woman, though, so if something is too biased, please let me know!)

Summary: You are assigned to help integrate the Asgardians to Midgardian society, but your mission ends a whole lot different than you expect.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 5,493

A/N: My second fic! The title is supposed to be a play on the Mission: Impossible movies, but I've never actually seen one, so sorry if it's wrong lol. Now that I officially have more than one fic, I'm gonna make a masterlist, so that will be coming soon. I hope you like the story!

You rapped your knuckles on the office door that had been left slightly ajar. “Director Mackenzie? You asked to see me?”

“Come on in, Y/N. Elena was just leaving.”

You opened the door and nodded at Agent Rodriguez as she made her way out. She gave you a curt nod in return.

Alphonso Mackenzie, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., leaned back into the chair behind his desk and gestured for you to have a seat. “And for the last time, Y/N, you are one of my most trusted operatives. Call me Mack, please.”

You sat down. “Sorry, Mack.”

He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a file folder stuffed to the brim with documents, which he dropped onto the desk between you, the loud thwap resounding in the small office.

“I have a mission for you, Agent. A few days ago, the planet Asgard was completely destroyed.”

“Asgard?” you interjected. “Like where Thor is from?”

He nodded. “You’ll find all of that and more in these files. Thor and his brother Loki have set up a colony in a small town in Norway. We need you to supervise the integration of the Asgardian people onto Earth. This is the first known mass migration of aliens that our planet has ever seen, and we need to be keeping a close eye on this, or it could go sideways real fast.”

You pulled the files closer and began to flip through a few pages. “I thought Loki was a bad guy. What was it? 80 people in 2 days? Plus the invasion of New York. Why are we letting him back here?”

Mack sighed and rubbed his temple. “I can’t personally vouch for the man, but Thor claims he was being mind controlled. According to Thor, Loki eventually broke free of the control and killed the guy who was behind the whole thing. Some alien named Thanos? Tony Stark himself seems okay with this New Asgard business, and you know how paranoid he gets. So for now, we observe, not attack.”

“Gotcha,” you said. “When do I leave?”

“As soon as you can get your stuff together and get out of here. Say the word and we'll start prepping a Quinjet.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you said, standing up and grabbing the files. “I’ll let you know as soon as I get an idea of my timeline.”

“Thank you Agent L/N, and good luck.”

------

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, barely making a rather sharp turn. When you finished this assignment, you were going to have to have a talk with whoever designed these roads. Despite the unsafe driving conditions, though, you sighed in contentment. You were back in the field, this is where you belonged.

You pulled a van loaded to the brim with various tech items mixed in with your personal possessions down a bumpy road, coming to a stop before a small, rustic-looking, seaside town, where two men and a woman stood for you. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. You turned the key and shut off the van, trying to get a read on each of the people standing before you.

The buff blond man was clearly Thor. You recognized him from the news and the files you had read. Next to him was a tall woman with dark hair who had wan air of confidence about her. You had never seen her, nor did S.H.I.E.L.D. have any data on her. The third man was lanky, but clearly still fit, with dark hair that fell just past his shoulders. He was clad in green and had a demeanor that made you shiver. This was Loki, scourge of New York and would-be king of Midgard. But Thor and Tony Stark had vouched for him, and that would have to be enough for Y/N L/N, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.

You exited the van and heard Thor call to you. “Welcome, newcomer! Our scouts observed your vehicle approaching our home!”

You walked briskly towards the group. Game time. Put on the 'no time for your shit' face and get to business. Coming to a stop in front of them, you began to speak. “My name is Y/N L/N and I am here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D., the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division of the American government. We have been granted permission from the government of Norway to oversee this colony's development. This is an unprecedented situation on Earth, and as such, we have written new protocols. I am the agent assigned to this case, and I will be supervising the construction of New Asgard and its integration into Midgardian society.”

Thor furrowed his brow. “I was under the impression that S.H.I.E.L.D. was controlled by Hydra.”

You nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. The previous incarnation of S.H.I.E.L.D. was corrupt, but we are a hardy breed, so to speak. A much smaller branch has survived, and deals with various situations across the world, aliens being one of them.”

Thor nodded. “Then we welcome your presence here with open arms.”

Loki scoffed. “You are too trusting, brother. This so-called agent could be anyone. What cause do we have to believe this story?”

You turned to him. “Loki, God of Mischief, Chaos, and Lies, correct? You of all people should know, am I lying?”

He stared at you, long and hard, before shaking his head. “No, I suppose you aren’t,” he admitted.

“There’s that then,” you said. “Now, I will need to ask the three of you some questions regarding yourselves, if you don’t mind.”

-----

The strange woman was first. You had been given a small shack to conduct your interviews out of, the woman stared at you from across the table, looking for all the world like she had somewhere better to be.

“Name?”

“Brunnhilde.”

“No family name?”

“I am a Valkyrie. I have no blood other than my sisters.”

“Right,” you said, “You lived on Asgard then?”

Her face took on a sour look. “A long time ago. I’ve spent the last few centuries on a different planet, Sakaar.”

You scribbled the information into your notepad. “What do you do then? If you were gone so long, why are you back with the Asgardians?”

Her chest puffed with pride. “I am to be the new King of Asgard. On the Summer Solstice we will hold a coronation. It will give the people enough time to accept the transfer of power from Odin’s bloodline to me, and for me to learn how to lead.”

You nodded and took note of it. “Congratulations,Your Majesty-to-be. I believe that’s all I need for now, but I expect we will see a lot of each other over the months.”

-----

Thor. The large man sat across from you, seemingly happy to be there.

“Thor Odinson, correct?” you asked him.

“Yes.”

“And I hear you're passing on the title of King to Brunnhilde?”

A dark look came over his face. “I have learned recently that my family has done many wrongs by Asgard. As long as I breathe, I will fight for Asgard and her people, but I do not believe it is my place to rule. Brunnhilde loves the people and has a talent for leadership. She will be a much better King than I.”

“A very noble decision, Thor. Thank you very much, and please send your brother in on your way out.”

-----

“Name?”

“I believe you know who I am.”

You sighed. “It's a formality, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Friggason.”

“What?”

“I prefer Loki Friggason.”

You nodded, and made the necessary changes to his file. “Noted. Anything else I should know about?”

“Just a warning,” he said, leaning forward, his voice dangerously low. “I am the God of Lies. The truth is a luxury I will afford no one, especially your little government. The God of Chaos is an enemy you do not want to have.”

You raised an eyebrow, and wrote a single word in your file, exaggerating each syllable as you wrote it out. “Dra. Ma. Tic.”

Truth be told, you were a little scared, given this guy’s reputation, but you would be damned before you let your exterior crack.

Loki scowled. He seemed to do that a lot. “You mortals think you are so funny, do you not?”

You shrugged. “I’m delightful.” You slipped your papers into your file folder and stood up. “See you around, Friggason.”

You left, leaving Loki slightly aghast that you had managed to get the last word in.

-----

You walked calmly out of the hut, then quickened your pace as you made your way back to your van. Loki, as much as it pained you to say, had been intimidating, and your heart was beating a mile a minute.

You opened the door and climbed inside, shoving your paperwork into a filing cabinet, which you promptly locked. You turned to your computers, fiddling with the buttons, atttempting to establish your connection back to S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters.

"It's quite rude to walk out on a prince, you know."

You jumped and whipped around to see Loki standing outside your van.

"What the hell!"

"I said-"

"I know what you said, Your Highness," you interrupted. "But you scared the shit out of me. “

"Many apologies," he said as he hoisted himself up to sit on the edge of the van, his insincerity clear. "And I grant you permission to refer to me as Loki."

"How generous," you muttered, before going back to your instruction manual. Technology had never been your forte. You chose being a field agent over a scientist for a reason.

The both of you sat in silence for a while, you working slowly through the instructions that Fitz, a S.H.I.E.L.D agent much more qualified in machinery than you, had given you.

You glanced up at Loki, half expecting to see him sleeping against the van's frame, only to find his gaze resting on you.

"Can I help you?" you asked.

He just laughed a bit, like staring at you had been the most normal thing in the world. "I am watching you, Midgardian, lest you sabotage the society my brother is trying to build."

"I never took you for the loyal type," you said, putting away your things. "I'm gonna have to ask you to get outta here though."

“Why?”

You gestured to the twilight outside. “It’s late. I’ve had a long day. I’m going to bed.”

Loki strained his head slightly, attempting to peek into the van. “Where do you plan on sleeping?”

Not breaking eye contact, you grabbed a cord on the wall and yanked, and the rusty old pull-down bed flopped out with a loud groan. The rickety old thing was probably going to give you back problems by the time you were done here, but such was life. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s money was usually spent on more pressing things than upgrading amenities for field agents.

Loki’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “You are not sleeping in that. We’ve built a larger house for Thor, Brunnhilde, and I. You’ll stay in one of the guest rooms there.”

You shrugged. “It’s not too bad out here.”

“Mortals,” he said under his breath, almost indecipherably, before speaking again, at a normal volume this time. “I insist. Whether I like it or not, you are a guest of Asgard, and you will be treated as such. Besides, that bed looks seconds away from collapsing.”

You nodded, trying not to betray your confusion at the combination of his kindness and rudeness. “Thank you, just give me a second to lock up.” You grabbed the pieces you had been fiddling with, then paused, your hand hovering over the satellite dish. “Actually, if you’re just gonna sit there, you may as well make yourself useful. You can teleport right?”

Suspicion crossed his face. “Yes?”

You held out the device. “Hop up to the top of the van, there should be a little cord. It’ll fit into this port here,” you said gesturing. “Plug it in for me, please?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You ask a god to do your bidding?”

You scoffed. “You’re not a god, you're an alien. And I just asked for a favor. You’re free to say no, but I’m exhausted, and as much as I would like to put off climbing on the roof off until tomorrow, I need to send a check in to headquarters ASAP.”

He begrudgingly reached out and took the dish and you watched as his form rippled green and faded away. You heard shuffling on the roof for a moment, then silence, before the Asgardian reappeared in front of you.

“If that’s all, Midgardian?” he said.

“Thank you, Highness,” you said, ignoring his tone. “And thank you for offering the room.” The monitor beeped a confirmation that your signal had connected and you punched in a code to let S.H.I.E.L.D. know you had made it to New Asgard. You grabbed the bag you had packed and hopped out of the van, waiting for Loki to follow suit before closing the doors and locking the vehicle.

You offered him your arm. “Shall we?”

He brushed past you, rolling his eyes at your mock-politeness.

“Alright then,” you muttered, “This is gonna be fun, isn’t it?” Taking one last look at the van behind you, you moved to catch up with the Asgardian walking briskly away from you.

-----

Loki had not been talkative on the way to the house, and after being curtly shown to your room, he quickly left. You had settled into a decently sized room complete with a desk and a small bathroom attached. Undoubtedly, the house was a far cry from an Asgardian palace, but it was much larger than needed for three, even four, people. Surprisingly, you got a sound night’s sleep.

You woke to rambunctious laughter, and, wiping bleariness from your eyes, got out of bed. You stood in front of a small mirror on the wall and attempted to make yourself look slightly less like you had just woken up. Moving to your bag, you put on clothes that were much more professional than the old sweatshirt you were currently wearing.

Finally satisfied, you stepped out of your room and followed the sounds of conversation into the kitchen, where you found Brunnhilde and Thor joking at the counter while Loki sat at a dining room table, reading a book.

Seeing you, Thor broke into a smile. “Y/N! Loki had told us you would be staying here!”

You returned the smile. “Thank you for letting me stay here, Thor. I really appreciate this.”

The large man set a plate heaping with food on the table and gestured for you to sit. You did, glancing at Loki as you took the seat across from him, but he made no move to acknowledge that you were there. Brunnhidle began to speak. “We will be building fishing boats today down at the docks today. Will you be joining us, Y/N? We could use an extra set of hands.”

You nodded. “I don’t mind helping out. I have a few things to take care of first, though, so I’ll meet you all down there.”

Thor clapped. “Excellent! We’ll make an Asgardian out of you yet!”

You laughed softly and finished your meal as Thor and Brunnhilde began to tell you the plans for the day.

------

After breakfast, you ran up to your room to grab your laptop and then met the rest of the group on the stairs of the house. “I’ll see you guys in a little while,” you said, waving while walking in the opposite direction.

Thor and Brunnhidle branched off from you, but Loki, still silent, walked beside you towards your van.

You looked at him quizzically, but he seemed to have no intention of indicating why he was with you, and not with Thor and Brunnhilde.

Finally, as you approached your van, you caved and asked. “Why are you with me instead of your brother?”

“I’ve consulted with Thor. I will be supervising you for the remainder of your stay here.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “I’m supposed to be supervising you guys!”

“You are a stranger,” he replied, “and there’s something about you that I don’t trust. I have harmed Asgard many times over, and I don’t intend to let you get away with hurting these people any more.” There was an edge to his voice, that you had to admit, scared you.

After a long moment, you sighed. “Fine. I could use an assistant, I guess.” Which was apparently the right thing to say, because it made him clearly flustered.

“I am no one’s assistant, I am a prince of Asgard,” he argued as you turned away from him, partially to unlock your van and partially to hide your laughter.

You hopped up into the vehicle and grabbed a folder and tossed it to Loki, who was still sputtering about his status behind you. “Scan those in, would you?” you said gesturing at a machine in the back corner of the van.

He huffed but snatched the folder from your hand and went to fiddle with the machine.

You glanced over. “Do you know how to use that?”

“Yes,” he snapped. “This is primitive technology compared to what I have seen in my travels.”

You shrugged. “Okay.” You turned to your computer and queued up a call to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ. “I’m gonna need you to be quiet for a second,” you said, right before Mack’s face popped onto the screen.

“Y/N! How’s Norway treating you?” he said with a smile.

“Colder than I thought, but not too bad. They’ve given me an actual bed to sleep in. You really need to update the beds in these vans,” you joked.

“I’ll let the budget committee know,” he replied. “I trust Thor and Loki are being cooperative, then?”

“More or less,” you said before stepping to the side, putting Loki in full view of your webcam.

Mack’s eyes widened. The change was subtle, but you could tell he was surprised. “That’s Loki.”

“Yup.”

“In your van.”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“His Highness has deemed me untrustworthy, and decided I need a chaperone.”

“Right,” said Mack, suspicion in his voice. “Well you know the drill. Weekly check-ins, and don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any problems,” he said, looking at Loki.

“Gotcha, Mack. Talk to you next week,” you said, turning off the call. You turned to Loki, who had yet to even turn the scanner on. “You don’t know how to work that, do you?”

He glared at you and did not reply.

“Come here, Your Highness, I’ll show you. It really isn’t that hard.”

“You know the honorific loses its value when you say it so sarcastically,” he said, while watching your motions intensely, memorizing the steps to work the machine.

“Sorry, Highness.”

-----

The two of you walked down to the beach shortly after, meeting Brunnhilde and Thor at the docks. You were allotted supplies and miraculously, you and Loki ended up caulking the same boat.

Great.

The silence was deafening at first, until you decided to break it.

“You know I never would have assumed that someone of such status would be out here doing the dirty work,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

He grimaced. “I owe Asgard a debt. I intend to repay it, however I can offer service.”

“A very noble stance from Loki, God of Mischief.”

He grinned and looked up, meeting your eyes. “I find that one can be noble while still being quite mischievous.”

You felt your face heat up, and ducked your head, looking down at your work. He had smiled at you, for the first time, and what he had said had sounded almost like flirting. Why had that made your stomach turn in such a strange way?

“Oh my,” he laughed. “Seems that the Midgardian is finally speechless.”

“Just trying to hold my tongue around my betters, Highness,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Now let’s get to work before Brunnhilde has our heads.”

-----

Finally, late that afternoon, the work was done, and the New Asgard armada of fishing boats was ready for a celebratory launch. You and Loki stood in the crowd, watching Brunnhilde give a speech in front of the flagship, which really wasn’t much larger than the rest of the fleet. Loki leaned over and whispered to you, “You know, back in the day, the Norse would give a human sacrifice to the sea god to ensure safe passage.”

You wrinkled your nose, put off by the suggestion. “I think I prefer the more English tradition,” you replied, watching as Brunnhilde smashed a bottle of champagne against the hull of the ship.

Loki sighed. “Such a waste of perfectly good champagne.”

“I’m sure there's plenty more alcohol around here somewhere,” you said as you walked over to your boat, preparing for her maiden voyage. You hopped in and offered Loki your hand to help him in. He hesitated, but he took it.

“What should we name her?” you asked.

“What?”

“You know,” you shrugged, “We have to give our ship a name.”

Loki seemed to ponder it a moment before deciding. “How about The Midgardian?”

You put your hand on your chest in mock flattery. “Aww, you named her after me, didn’t you?”

He laughed. “It’s a fitting name. She’s lackluster and hardly even worthy of being called a boat.” His words were biting, and maybe you were imagining things, but you could have sworn you heard the playfulness in his voice.

You laughed and tossed him an oar. “For you, Highness.”

“Many thanks, Midgardian.”

The two of you followed the rest of New Asgard, rowing out to sea. Suddenly, you noticed a small sprig of water in the bottom of the boat. “Loki,” you said, the fear dawning on you, “I think the boat is leaking.”

He turned to see the small leak coming through the floorboards. “Okay,” he said, suddenly serious, “Don’t panic. Let’s turn around.”

You switched the side you were paddling on, beginning to move the boat in a circle. Before you could completely orient yourselves, the floorboards cracked, and a large chunk of wood detached from the boat. You yelped as the water came flooding in.

Loki swore. “Can you swim?” he asked you, speaking quickly.

You nodded. All S.H.I.E.L.D. agents knew how to swim.

“Then jump!” he said, and you did, without a second thought. Your boat was sinking fast, and there was no way you were going to make it back to shore dry.

You hit the water, and a second later, heard Loki behind you.

“Swim towards Thor’s boat, he can get us-”

You missed the rest of his sentence as you were pulled away from him.

You fought the current that had taken hold of you, but your panic was making things worse. In the confusion, you lost control, and dipped under water. The ocean filled your mouth. Breaking the surface again, you choked out most of the water, trying to stay calm and find a way out, but every second you were being pulled further out to sea. Falling under once again, you were prepared to accept your fate when a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around you and pulled you into calmer waters.

You gasped for air as Loki held you against himself, allowing you time to recover.

“Wha- How did-” you began, once you could speak.

“Don’t talk, just breathe,” he said. “I am a god, I can overpower currents much easier than your mortal bodies can.”

“Thank you, Loki,” you said.

“You are welcome, Y/N.”

A larger boat pulled up next to you, Thor leaning over the side. “Brother, Agent Y/N! Take my hand!”

Loki helped you onto the deck of the boat before climbing over the side himself.

You flopped onto the deck, panting. “Rest in peace, SS Midgardian.”

-----

Later that night, you and Loki sat together watching the fire crackle. Thor had brought you a hot drink, and after plenty of fussing ensuring that you were okay, had left to do something leader-ish with Brunnhilde.

Suddenly, a loud scuffling at the door broke the silence and a series of thudding footsteps made their way toward you. Upon seeing your company, Loki sighed, exasperated. You turned and saw a large figure that appeared to be made out of rock alongside a smaller, insect-looking creature.

The large one began to speak, his gentle tone in contrast with his threatening form. “Hello. Um, I’m Korg and this is my friend Meik. We came to apologize for the whole boat thing. Thor put us in charge of wood collection, so it’s our bad, really. Sorry.”

“Oh, um, that’s alright,” you said, still processing the fact that there were two very large, very strange-looking, aliens in the living room. “You couldn’t have known the wood was rotting, and no one’s dead, so we’re good.”

“Alright, cool,” said Korg. “No harm, no foul, yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Right then,” he said, scooping up Miek. “We’ve gotta get going. Thor put us on clean up duty for the next week.”

“Thank you, Korg!” you called, but he was already out the door.

Loki let out another sigh. “Idiots.”

You turned back to him. “I had no idea there were other aliens here! How many species came with you?”

“Just Korg and Meik. And unfortunately, they are around a lot.”

You settled into your armchair. “I’m gonna have to document this.” But even as you said it, you could feel yourself drifting off.

-----

The next day you woke in your own bed, slightly embarrassed at the implication that Loki had carried you there, but he never brought it up, so neither did you.

The next few weeks were filled with collecting information and helping with the construction of New Asgard to fill the rest of your time. Always, of course, accompanied by Loki. In a strange way, you were becoming friends. The two of you never exchanged a single kind word, but your actions said otherwise. Before long, it seemed less like Loki was breathing down your neck and more like he was genuinely relaxing around you.

“Hey, Mack,” you said, beginning your weekly call-in, Loki now sitting beside you instead of hiding in the background.

“Hey there, Y/N. How’s it going, Loki?”

“Quite well, thank you, Director Mackenzie.”

You stared at him in shock. You had never heard Loki use honorifics for a Midgardian.

The rest of the call was uneventful, and as soon as you hung up, you whirled toward Loki.

“You were polite!” you said, your tone accusatory.

Loki sniffed. “I do have manners, you know.”

“You called him Director Mackenzie.”

“And?”

“And I can count the number of times you’ve used my real name on one hand. It’s always ‘Midgardian’ this ‘Midgardian’ that. You know Mack’s a Midgardian too, right?”

He rolled his eyes. “And you call me ‘Highness’ in that terrible mocking tone of yours. The disrespect is mutual.”

You sighed. “Fine, we’ll call a truce. I’ll call you Loki, you call me Y/N, deal?” You stuck out your hand, waiting for his response.

He seemed to be considering his options, before he settled on his choice. “Deal.” He grasped your hand firmly within his and shook it.

“Glad we’re on the same page, Loki,” you said, leaning back into your chair.

“What now, Y/N?” he asked.

You shrugged. “I dunno. Brunnhilde and Thor don’t have anything going on, and I’m done with what I need to do.” You started clicking around on your computer. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“I’ve heard of movies, but never seen one.”

“You’ve never seen a movie?” you asked. “I guess that makes sense. It’s basically just a recorded play. You’ll love it.” You pulled up a movie. One of the lesser known perks of working for S.H.I.E.L.D.: free Netflix. “This is one of my favorites,” you said as the opening credits rolled.

“I suppose you aren’t giving me a choice then?” he asked.

“Nope,” you replied. “Now be quiet and watch.”

-----

Later that night, you were in the kitchen with Thor, cleaning up after dinner. The two of you worked in comfortable silence until suddenly-

“Are you and my brother involved romantically?”

The plate you were washing fell into the soapy water with a splash.

“What?”

“I have never seen him willingly be around a person as he is you,” Thor explained. “And he has changed. He is happier than he was before Midgard.”

You shook your head. “He doesn’t- I thought he was just ‘supervising’ in case I tried to kill you all.”

“Hardly. The man just has no clue how to adjust to a more… domestic lifestyle. He wants to be around you, he just does not know how to express that.”

“Huh,” was all you managed to say, not looking up from the dishes.

Thor let out a small chuckle. “One day you two will figure it out,” he said so quietly you weren’t even sure he said it.

-----

More time passed, you and Loki still spending your days together. Before you knew it, the Summer Solstice was here, and you spent the morning preparing.

Rushing around your van, alone for once, you scrambled to get your work done quickly before Brunnhidle’s coronation began.

Finishing up you glanced at your monitor when you saw a message pop up.

Alphonso Mackenzie: I forgot to mention it in our call this week, but you’re coming up on the six month mark, and there seems to be no complications with Asgard’s transition, so we’ll be pulling you back to HQ. We’ll sort out the details in next week’s meeting.

You felt a sinking feeling in your chest, which was quickly replaced by determination as you began to type your response.

-----

You hurried to Loki’s side, panting slightly, making it to the coronation just in time for Brunnhidle to make her entrance.

“You’re late,” he whispered.

“Shh,” you said. “They’re starting.”

-----

After every great coronation comes an even greater feast, and the Asgardians spent the rest of the day revealing and celebrating their new leader.

Surprisingly, you had seen very little of Loki. That wouldn’t last long though, because as the sun dipped below the horizon, your closest friend in New Asgard appeared from the crowd and said nothing as he led you to a private space away from the partygoers.

“I’ve hardly seen you all night,” he said, as soon as the two of you had a moment of relative silence.

“I know,” you laughed softly. “It’s been strange to not be around you.”

Your smile fell and you looked up at him. “Look, Loki, I have some news, and I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about it.”

His expression turned serious and he led you to a small bench, where the both of you sat. He stayed silent, waiting for you to speak.

“I got a message from Mack today. They want me back in America.”

Loki’s entire demeanor changed. “What? You can’t go back. There’s still so much I- so much supervising to be done here.”

“That’s where the part I’m unsure of comes in,” you said. “I talked to Mack, and the specifics still need to be discussed, but if we can get agreement from all parties, he wants to create a new position at S.H.I.E.L.D. I’d be the first permanent Asgardian-Midgardian liaison that S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever had.”

His face broke into a grin and he clasped your hands into his. “That’s wonderful! Why would I have any problems with that?”

“You haven’t always been my biggest fan,” you said, nudging his arm gently.

He was silent for a moment, looking for the words. “Maybe not at first,” he began slowly, looking you directly in your eyes, “but now, I’d argue that you are closer to me than anyone else.”

You suddenly became all too aware of his hands resting on yours, and the closeness of his face to yours. “Loki…”

“I hate to admit it, but after a long talk with Thor, I’ve realized that I’ve grown quite fond of you, Y/N.”

“I guess I’ve grown fond of you too, Your Highness,” you said, smiling softly.

“Oh, Midgardian,” he said, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice as his face drew nearer.

You didn’t remember which of you closed the gap, only that it was the most magical kiss you had ever had.

A/N: Thanks for reading! :)

[shig-a-shig-ah]

GOOD CLEAN FUN

» pairing: chisaki kai x fem!reader

» cw: noncon, somnophilia, oral sex, medical kink, needles (brief mention) 18+, minors DNI.

» a/n: Quirkless AU! This was written for the BNHA Degeneracy 9 to 5 Server collab.

» wc: 5k

» ao3 mirror

Dentistry is a disgusting profession. It makes Chisaki's skin crawl, the poor care people take of themselves, and he frequently regrets being pushed into this family business of staring down filthy gullets all day, though he takes sadistic pleasure in refusing to be gentle with the worst of his patients. Why should he be, when they obviously have such disregard for their own health and hygiene? No, in those cases he takes great satisfaction in ripping the rot out by the root with nothing but pliers and his own brute strength.

Some days, though...some days there are patients like you, who make it all worth while. Patients who are clean.

You make yourself such an easy mark too, though Kai had expected as much after Kurono so slyly told him that he'd probably want to take care of the new patient in room two personally. Hari wasn't wrong; you're trembling when Kai enters the exam room, staring wide-eyed at the tray of neatly-arranged stainless steel instruments next to the chair in which you're reclining, fingertips gripping at the armrests. You're chewing at your lip too, as though your nerves weren't already apparent enough, those perfectly white, straight teeth digging into your plump lower lip in a way that's practically obscene. Even without a closer look Chisaki can tell what good care you take of that cute little mouth, and it's enough to send his cock twitching.

He takes a seat on the stool next to you as he introduces himself, careful to keep the excitement from his voice and to squint his eyes just right so that you'll know he's smiling even behind the surgical mask he wears, the one that both protects him from those much filthier than you and keeps you from seeing just how cold that grin really is. Your own smile is much more obviously forced, but he likes that you try - it's endearing that you're working hard to be brave even when you look close to tears with anxiety. Of course, he also likes that you're scared, likes that extra little bit of power over you, and that it will make all the easier for him to take advantage, because he's already decided he has to have you.

It's impossible for you to remember how or why this dentophobia started. You can only remember being dragged kicking and screaming to the dentist as a young child, your mother scolding you for refusing to behave. As you got older you managed a little more self-control, but while you can force yourself into the chair, you can do nothing to stop the way you shake and your heart races. It's only made worse by the obvious annoyance you face when practitioners have to deal with you; you know they think you're stupid or immature for this reaction you can't control.

The man before you, however, is smiling sympathetically, gold-flecked eyes crinkling with concern in a way you appreciate. He's handsome even with half his face covered, all bright eyes and perfect dark hair, and your cheeks heat up when he asks if you're nervous. You force out a meek nod, and he chuckles softly.

"No need to be self-conscious. It's a common fear," he says. "But we do offer sedation, if that's something you're interested in. It can help with the nerves."

Your brow furrows slightly. It's not an option you've been offered before, hadn't even realized it was a possibility. "Sedation? Like, put me under?"

"No," he says, chuckling softly again as he turns to the monitor by the chair and starts scrolling through what you assume is your file. "Nothing as severe as that, at least not for a routine cleaning. Just a little nitrous oxide to help take the edge off."

That you have heard of, but always thought it was only used for more intense procedures. "That's laughing gas, right?"

"That's the colloquial name for it, yes. It'll numb you some and help you relax. Although it might make you a little giggly, as the name implies. Some of my patients even enjoy it." Your face heats up again when his intense gaze lingers on you, not just with embarrassment this time, and a small titter escapes you.

Chisaki can't believe his luck with you, if he's being honest. You're exactly his type, and as he expected your dental records are flawless - never so much as a cavity. He's confident too that you'll accept what he's offering with as anxious as you are, and your reaction to his presence. He's not surprised by that; Kai knows the effect he has on people when he tries. Probably he doesn't even need to go through the great lengths he does to get people like you into a compromising position, but he enjoys the process. It's easier this way, with access to medical records so he knows what he's touching, and an army of sedatives to ensure he's perfectly in control of these encounters.

You only deliberate for a moment before nodding and giving him the answer he knew you would. "Okay, I guess I can try it."

The smile he gives you this time is actually genuine as excitement blooms in his gut. "I think you'll find it really helps," he says, daring to rest one hand on your forearm briefly. Even through the thin latex of his gloves, he can feel that your skin is soft, and he feels another pang of anticipation. Then he stands up. "I have to supervise the sedation, so I'll take care of your cleaning and exam personally. I'll be right back and then we can get started."

Your chest is still tight with anxiety as he situates you, arranging a strange mask over your nostrils and instructing you to breath deeply through your nose, but once you catch the scent of that slightly sweet gas being pumped into your lungs, the effects are almost immediate. The tension in your chest abates, your whole body going light and tingly, and suddenly you can't remember what you were ever so afraid of. When Chisaki tells you to open wide, you don't even hesitate, doing so immediately and sticking your tongue out slightly, making an exaggerated 'ahhhhh' sound and then giggling a little, though you couldn't say why.

"I can see it's working already," Chisaki says. He's unable to keep the breathiness out of his tone this time, but he trusts you're too distracted to notice. The way you'd opened so obediently, and the sight of your little pink tongue poking out lewdly has his cock hardening already, and he's only barely begun. He can't stop himself from reaching out, pushing that wet muscle back into your mouth with one finger, letting it linger on your tongue a moment longer than necessary to feel the heat of it before pulling away, but you only giggle at the slightly inappropriate act.

Despite his straining erection begging for relief, Chisaki still has a job to do, and he works with well-practiced efficiency as he goes through the process of cleaning your teeth. The anticipation is as much a part of this as anything else, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the buildup. He's not a masochist by any means, but these little self-denials are gratifying, only serve to make the end result that much sweeter. Still, he can't help but find himself occasionally distracted by the way you laugh every time he gives you an instruction to open wider, or tilt your head, noticing the way your chest bounces slightly beneath your tight top, and how you lie with your legs slightly spread, so inviting.

Normally he waits until he can render patients like you truly helpless before he touches them, recommending elaborate procedures that they don't realize are entirely unnecessary, but then again most patients don't request or accept sedation for such routine procedures as this. He reaches over to the tank of nitrous oxide, increasing the dose slightly and watching as you slump a little more in the chair, and then he reaches out to trail one gloved hand up your thigh and over your clothed center.

You've barely felt anything this whole time, aware of him working at your teeth but not really registering it, too overwhelmed by the way your whole body feels pleasantly tingly and numb, and it's only after he's ceased fussing over your mouth that you start to notice another sensation, a building tension between your thighs that makes you squirm, a small whine escaping you. Your eyes, closed to defend against the bright overhead light, flutter open, but you can't see him hovering over you anymore.

"We're almost finished," Chisaki says calmly when you whimper again as that slight pressure continues to build. "I just need to enter some notes in your file, and then finish the actual exam."

From out of your line of sight he can see the way you're frowning, your cheeks puffing up slightly with discomfort and arousal, obviously confused. He presses his fingers more firmly against your clothed cunt, palming himself through his pants with his other hand. It's bolder than he'd usually be, but for once he's struggling with restraint, just can't bring himself to wait until he's found some excuse to render you more wholly unconscious in his chair.

"I just...I feel a little funny," you whimper, and then giggle again.

"That's normal," he says, continuing to massage your sex, noticing the way your hips twitch when he strokes over just the right spot. "Some people feel numbness, or a little pressure. As long as nothing hurts, there's nothing to worry about."

You nod, letting your eyes fall closed again. You can't quite help your thighs from twitching; it's a strange feeling, the knot tightening deep in your stomach even as you feel so numb and tingly, and when it intensifies further you feel a stab of shame as you realize exactly what's happening, that you're going to cum even as you try to hold yourself back.

Kai knows it's risky, that all you'd have to do is turn your head and open your eyes to see his straining arousal, but he can't stop himself from working his pants open as quietly as possible and stroking himself properly as he watches the struggle on your face, the way you bite at your lip and obviously try to ignore the sensation, apparently ready to believe this is some spontaneous reaction to your drugged-up state and not his fingers working over you.

Despite the fact that you try to resist the sensation, the tingling in your body intensifies around your clit until your legs are shaking, the walls of your cunt fluttering around nothing and a mortifying whine escaping you. Through your giddiness, however, the humiliation is short-lived, nearly forgotten the moment you find yourself giggling at your own orgasm.

The sight of you quivering as you cum, entirely unaware of his hands on you, only further erodes Kai's patience. "I just need to take one last quick look," he says, and then without waiting for your response he's releasing his cock momentarily, using gloved fingers from both hands to pry your mouth wide again. You squirm slightly when he forces those fingers deep in your mouth, but he removes one hand just as quickly, returning those spit-soaked fingers to his throbbing shaft and fisting himself more urgently. If you can hear the faint wet sounds the action brings, he trusts that you won't question them.

Fuck, and he's close already, the sight of your pink tongue lolling against his fingers only sending the coil in his gut tightening further, and he shoves his fingers a little deeper towards the back of your throat, feeling the muscles there spasm as you gag at the invasion.

"I'm sorry if this is a bit unpleasant," he says shortly, too caught up in the way you look with his fingers probing your mouth to maintain that congenial tone. Even through the gloves he can feel the heat and wetness of your mouth, and it sends shivers down his spine. "This should only take a minute. You have a small mouth - it's difficult to see with your tongue in the way."

He presses his fingers further, not sure why he's explaining himself when you're so obviously unbothered. You're only nodding, spit running down the side of your chin as you salivate around his fingers. On most anyone else he would find the sight nauseating, but seeing your innocent face so debased only spurs him closer to his release. He squeezes his length more tightly, letting the spit-slicked palm of his gloved hand rub over his tip with every stroke, the fingers of his other hand continuing to invade his throat while you simply lay there and take it, and when you finally let out a moan of real distress at the feel of his fingers in the back of your throat, it's enough to send him over the edge, his cock spasming and hot spurts of cum shooting into his gloved hand.

The moment his cock stops twitching he withdraws his fingers from your mouth, stripping off his fouled gloves and tucking himself back into his pant before you can so much as open your eyes. When he turns back to you again, you're staring at the ceiling, grinning slightly with shiny, wet lips.

It takes a few minutes for your head to clear once he removes the mask from your face, and by then you only have the vaguest sense that anything about the experience was strange, and even then it was still vastly more pleasant than any of your prior dental experiences, albeit embarrassing in a slightly different way than usual.

Chisaki waits for you to seem cognizant before drawing your attention to the monitor by the chair. His boldness in touching you did little to truly satisfy him, only made him more eager to fuck you properly, to feel the heat of your tongue against his cock instead of his fingers, and to bury himself in that cunt that responded so sweetly to his touch.

"Your teeth are mostly in good shape," Chisaki says. "But I'm afraid you do have one small cavity. Here, see?" He points at one of your x-rays on the screen, a perfectly healthy tooth but he's confident you won't notice that, that you don't know what to look for, and sure enough you're only nodding, eyes wide. It's adorable, that fearful look on your face. He almost wishes there were a way for you to keep that expression when he has his way with you. "It's only a small one. But I'd recommend a stronger sedative for it, if your nerves are that much of a problem."

"Stronger?"

"It requires an IV," he explains, "and you wouldn't be able to drive yourself home afterwards. You'll still be conscious, technically, but you won't be aware of much."

The idea of having your tooth drilled into already has you quaking, the last traces of your buzz gone, and you agree at once. "Okay. I guess I can ask my roommate to drive me." She probably won't mind; you two do each other favors fairly regularly.

Kai's glad to hear you don't mention a boyfriend. It wouldn't matter in the end, if you had one or not, but the idea of some other man's hands on you still sends a jealous, possessive stab through him. He prefers to believe that he's the only who's touched you, that there aren't others out there tainting you with their filth.

"Great," he says, giving you another one of those reassuring smiles. "Let's get you scheduled."

***

It's a matter of days before you're back again, Kurono having conveniently found a 'cancellation' in the schedule to slot you in. He knows all about Kai's proclivities of course; they've worked together for years, well before Chisaki took over Overhaul Dentistry from his adopted father, and they've known each other even longer. Hari's stayed to watch Kai's little indiscretions once or twice, though he's more prone to lurking outside the door to listen shamelessly, knowing full well that Chisaki has no interest in sharing and would never permit him to touch what he considers his.

Chisaki is practically shaking with impatience by the time you arrive, has to take a few deep breaths to steady his trembling hands before placing the IV and pumping you full of Propofol. He's not sure he's ever been this excited about a patient, but this time around the eagerness has been killing him. He's always considered his libido healthy but not excessive, but he's stroked himself off more times in the last few days that he usually would over the course of a month, waiting for this.

You blink slowly, counting backwards until your words trail off and your eyes fall closed, and then Kai stands up, taking in the sight of you limp before him. You wore a dress today, a summery little thing that buttons from top to bottom, almost as though you'd known what you were coming here for.

He's already hard, his erection straining against the constricting fabric of his pants, but he ignores it for now and focuses on undoing those buttons, savoring each additional glimpse of skin. Your underwear is simple, white cotton panties with a hint of lace around the edges, and a matching bra. He likes them, simple and clean, just like you.

One gloved hand lifts to cup your breasts, kneading that soft flesh and then finding the bud of one nipple and rolling it between his fingers, sending it hardening. He watches your face as he does so - you're not entirely unconscious, but you won't react much, and you certainly won't remember this. Your brow is furrowing just slightly under the attention, and when he moves to toy with your other nipple he hears the faint sigh you let out, takes it as encouragement to shove that garment out of the way and reveal your pert breasts, licking his lips at the sight of the slightly darker skin of your nipples, and the way they've puckered under his attentions so invitingly. He bends and takes one in his mouth, laving his tongue over that stiff peak, biting down lightly.

A little whine escapes you this time, and the sound sends spike of heat through his cock. He knew you'd be responsive to him after the last time, but you're already exceeding his expectations. He tips his head slightly, staring at your mouth, those slightly parted lips.

He's never felt compelled to kiss anyone, all too aware of the filth present in even the cleanest of mouths, but as he stares at your lips he's surprised by the urge to do so. And he knows the risks are minimal, spent more than one of the last several evenings reading through your medical records, giving them a much more thorough evaluation than the release form you'd signed probably warranted. But he couldn't help himself, and now he knows that you take good care of the rest of yourself just like you do your mouth.

He leans forward curiously, encouraged when your lips press just a little back into his, even as your eyes stay closed. He lets his tongue snake out to trace over your mouth, probing between those lips, and you let another soft whine, though your tongue doesn't respond to his. That's okay; it's more enjoyable that he'd have expected and he deepens it anyway, relishing your taste, minty and sweet - obviously you'd prepared yourself for him. He grasps one of your hands and brings it to rub against his cock, panting as he ruts into your palm.

When he finally breaks the kiss, he's equally parts disgusted and aroused by the thin strand of saliva that connects your mouths, staring at it in fascination until it breaks.

That uncharacteristic impatience rears its head again, and Chisaki fumbles with his pants, letting his cock spring forth. He wraps your hand around it briefly, savoring the feel of your small, soft hand caressing his length, and then he moves on just as quickly. It only takes the flick of a switch to lower the chair down so that you're at waist level, and then he's tilting your head towards him, pressing the tip of his cock against those spit-slicked lips. You surprise him by poking that pink tongue out just a little, and for a minute he simple brushes the head of his glans back and forth against it, relishing the soft brush of your wet tongue, and the pleasant jolt it sends through him.

"You're a little tease, aren't you?" he whispers. Then, he pushes forward into the hot cavern of your mouth, swearing under his breath at the feel of you. You gag reflexively when he bumps against the back of your throat, but he only pulls back briefly and surges forward again, one gloved hand coming to rest in your hair gently, holding you in place as he fucks your mouth.

It's not tight without you actively sucking, but it's hot and wet, and the velvety texture of your tongue against him is more than enough. Despite trying to be gentle at first, he finds himself thrusting more roughly as his excitement grows at the sight of his length disappearing between your sweet lips, stroking your hair when you gag harder.

"Shh, now," he scolds to your unresponsive body. "Be good and take it."

It's almost as though you're listening - your head tilts back slightly to accept more of him, your throat contracting around him, and before he can help himself Kai's hips are bucking, his balls tightening and his cock contracting as his load spills down your throat. When he pulls away he can still see the last of his seed coating your tongue, and he spreads it around with his gloved fingers, entranced by the sight.

He adjusts his clothes a bit, not done with you just yet, and then circles around towards you feet. His gloved hands wander up along your thighs, squeezing at that soft flesh, and then tug you down towards him - mindful of the IV still buried in your arm - until your legs dangling off the edge of the chair. He spreads them a little, running one finger over your clothed slit. There's a damp spot at the center of your panties, and his eyes fix on it with great satisfaction.

"You really are eager, hmm?" he murmurs, letting the pad of his thumb hone in on your clit, the outline of that puffy bead visible through the damp cotton. You let out the faintest of whimpers, your hips tilting into his touch slightly, and Kai lets out a shuddering breath before bending forward and burying his face between your thighs, letting his lips move lightly over your covered cunt, catching your clit between his lips to tease your barely-conscious form, earning another soft whimper. His cock is swelling again already at those little sounds, and the scent of you.

Forcing himself to pull away, he works your panties down over your hips and off completely with eager fingers, his eyes fixing on your bare cunt. Your positive to response to his touches is all the more visible now, glistening strands of wetness coating your folds. He uses his thumbs to spread you open, circling your clit with two fingers as he stares at your entrance and letting out a throaty groan when he can see your hole clenching around nothing.

The sight of your perfect cunt so greedy for his cock is entrancing, and he repeats the motion. You're not the first person he's done this with and you certainly won't be the last, but oh, you just might be his favorite, so eager for him. He'd known you were special after that first encounter, but your response to him now is better than he could have imagined a few days ago.

He slides two fingers into you, scissoring them gently to ready you for his cock. He can hear the way your faint breathing has sped up, the skin across your chest darkening slightly as you grow flushed from his efforts, and when he removes his fingers they're coated in your slick. He stares at them curiously, tempted again by new desires, and then slides them into his mouth, savoring the taste of you, sweet and quite unlike anything else.

The throbbing in his cock is growing unbearable, and though there's a part of him that wants to draw this out, wants to savor it, there's even larger part that's desperate to feel that tight hole clenching around him. He shifts you again slightly, bringing your hips to rest at the end of the chair, the contours of the leg rest making your back arch nicely, those perfect tits even more on display, and he takes one in hand as he aligns himself near your entrance, pinching at your nipple hard enough to make you whine.

There are condoms in the pocket of his sterile white lab coat; he's normally vigilant with the protective measures, loathe to expose himself to any unnecessary risks, both hygienically and in terms of leaving evidence behind, but he's tempted to forgo that now. The notes from your last yearly doctor's visit stated you're not sexually active, and he thinks it must be true, that an innocent thing like you is too sweet to lie. Of course, because of that you're not on birth control either, but even that doesn't bother him like it should; it excites him even, the thought of his seed taking root and the surprise that would bring.

He runs his bare cock over your damp slit experimentally, groaning at the unadulterated sensation, and that's enough to convince him to abandon his usual precautions. Kai thrusts forward into your wet heat, letting out a strangled moan. Your cunt is so tight, so hot around his length, and god, it's so much better when he can feel it all, the intense wetness of your cunt creaming around him and every tiny ridge of your velvety walls. The way you whimper when he forces himself into you makes him wonder if perhaps he didn't prepare you quite enough - your walls are fluttering around his cock, obviously struggling to accommodate him, but it's not until he's nestled deep inside, the head of his cock kissing your cervix, that he pauses to let you adjust.

You squirm a little - small, feeble movements - and Kai relishes each slight shift of your body, watching your lips twitch. It's obvious you're trying to speak, but in your drugged up state all that spills forth is barely audible nonsense, tiny whines with a pleading undertone. He reaches forward to stroke your hair from your face. "You're so needy," he scolds, "but don't worry, I'll take care of you."

With that, he pulls out until just the head of his cock is still trapped in your cunt, and then drives himself forward roughly. Your limp body bounces back at the force of his thrust, your tits jiggling slightly with each of his movements, a sight he adores. He lets his fingers circle your clit again, can feel the way your cunt immediately clamps down around him in response, as though you're trying to draw him even deeper, and he gladly obliges you, slamming himself as deep as possible every time. You whimper more loudly than you have yet, and he can just make out your eyes trying vainly to flutter open, never quite succeeding.

"You take me so well," he pants, the feel of your slick walls gripping his cock so tightly has his balls tightening again, and he slows a little, trying to prolong the inevitable, not ready to be done with your sweet pussy just yet. He leans forward clumsily latch his mouth around one of those erect nipples, sucking and nibbling, noting the response brings, you throaty noises coming more quickly, the slight twitches of your hips growing more violent.

"So well," he murmurs again. No one's been this responsive before; he's lucky, honestly, if he can ever coax his patients to orgasm, but your cunt is flooded, obviously ready to cum for him, and it's enough that he loses the last of his restraint, rolling his hips furiously, railing against your cervix with every thrust in a way that's sure to leave you aching once you're fully aware again, but he can't bring himself to care. He wants to feel your release, feel you gripping his cock more tightly if such a thing is possible, and wants to fill you up with his seed.

"Are you going to be good and cum for me?" he asks breathily, and after another minute your body answers his question, your cunt clamping down, a quiet, high-pitched whine issuing from your throat as you hole constricts. Another few stuttering thrusts and his own cock is spasming, pleasant throbs radiating through his core as he drives into you one last time and cums, swearing at the almost unbearable tightness of your cunt around him.

For a moment he remains buried there, relishing the last throes of your orgasms and the way you're still occasionally pulsing around him. When he pulls out, he frowns at the distasteful mess his cum makes as it leaks out of your gaping hole, but it's accompanied by a shiver of satisfaction at the evidence of how he's claimed you for himself. Still, he moves on almost immediately to cleaning up, slipping on a fresh pair of nitrile gloves and tucking himself back into his pants before digging out a handful of papery dental bibs and using them to clean away the mess he's left between your thighs. Of course, there's nothing he can do about the evidence he's left deep inside, but even that he still finds titillating, the thought of his cum dripping out of you even after you've left, of your cute, confused face as you try to understand.

You barely stir as he goes about this process, only occasionally shifting slightly or mumbling a little, and by the time he's replaced your clothes you're lying still, the tiniest frown is on your lips. It's almost as though you know your time together is coming to an end, and you don't want to go. Chisaki glances from you to the needle in your arm, and the still half-full bag of Propofol suspended from the IV stand. Now that he thinks about it, he supposes there's no real reason to rush you out of there.

"Hari," he calls out, and he's unsurprised when the door to the exam room opens almost immediately, knows how Kurono likes to listen. The other man looks at him questioningly, gaze flicking between Kai and your sedated form reclining in the chair.

"Yes, Kai?" he asks, raising on pale eyebrow.

Chisaki smiles behind his mask. "Cancel the rest of my appointments for the day."