#Afloat within nothing

[satorurize]

He wanted them three rounds, DC had to come help him

Pairings: Established relationship, bf!gojo, reader is AFAB, a little lovesick gojo, he's overworked :(

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, freaky!gojo, marathon sex, p in v, (multiple) creampies and orgasms, squirting, feral gojo, sex in general.

Gojo Satoru is a freak..

Rumors about him being an absolute slut is true, but there is no bigger example than Satoru who is a slut and a virgin, a walking contradiction, before he met you.

Satoru looks at you in almost apprehensiveness when you give him a soft gaze at the revelation. This wasn't a look of disappointment, it looked like....pity. And Satoru hated being pitied more than anything.

He's a little embarrassed, although you reassure him that it's something you will never care about.

"You are literally juggling too many things with barely three hours of sleep, and virginity is a social construct anyway.." You shrug, looking up at him hovering over you, his tip nuzzled between the ingress of your sopping pussy, and oh how he thought that the pity would make his cock soft but it didn't, it just made it harder. It was a little pathetic, the way his cock was so easy that mere words of care and tenderness and acknowledgement for his furious schedule has got him rock solid, with the pearls of his precum clustering on the exterior of your sweet cunt. He was that love starved.

It took everything to not give your pussy mauling thrusts already, he was never the one to talk about how he indeed wanted a break sometimes and he wouldn't even now, especially being this horny and excited that he felt like a dog in heat. He had more than a good idea of how to go on about it, he had seen it in the bad porno that never appealed to him.

"Sweetheart..just let me put it in, I feel like my cock is gonna explode..I don't want to think of a bunch of blobs that I exorcise, not very hot.." He chuckled cheekily, leaning into your cheek, looking at you with the periphery of his eyes with a lecherous gaze, planting hot, open mouthed kisses onto your jaw and neck while he ached.

"Always a brat.." You sighed, grabbing his endowed cock from the base, pushing it into your velvety walls with a look of challenge and amusement laced onto your face.

After that, all hell broke lose. There was nothing that would stop Gojo Satoru now, not even if he was to be kept caged within his infinity. He would break it, just to discern your sweet, sweet cunt.

The challenge that was plastered onto your face just vanished, your assumption that Satoru would stop just after the first round with the orgasm that hit him with the speed of light, which made him finish so fast that it was deplorable, was so so wrong. He went on, and on and on.

And Gojo Satoru was innately confident, the fact that this was his first time didn't matter. He was always explorative, always excessive. Bold of you to assume he understood the concept of moderation.

"O-oh..fuckk..Toru.." You looked up to him with your glassy, nearly red rimmed eyes from the nth orgasm of the night, your cloying moans just made him keep going. Your was pussy puffy and clit violently engorged after being fucked this thoroughly.

"U-uh-huh..yeah, you like that..fuuuck baby, look at you.." He cooed with a feral grin on his lips as he steadily moved his hips, keeping your legs hoisted up on his shoulders, getting the hang of it. His hip movements no longer uncoordinated. He had always been a fast learner. He stills his hips with a series of whimpers as he came with hot white, thick ropes into your womb, pulling out with a lewd pop that spilled the cum stuffed inside down to your ass. You moaned softly, hazy and a little disoriented as your fluttering pussy pushed it all out.

He hummed at the sight, tapping and massaging his now agitatingly red tip onto your clit, he himself could feel his brain seem afloat, reverberating to take you again even after the multiple orgasms. He was dead set.

He hissed softly with widened eyes, in surprise and amusement, a full blown throaty laugh echoing his throat when you squirted, gushing out like a dam. He vigorously rubbed his sensitive cock on your sloshing pussy, his cock unbearably hard again. He was hooked, addicted. To you.

He grasped your hips, pulling you forward which made you mewl at the suddenness. He pressed his hefty weight on your body, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. If he had a laceration on his brain from the way this image of you burned in his head, sprawled underneath him, all flushed, sweaty and a mess, just for him. He would die rather than using his RCT.

"God baby..you washed my cum away, gonna hafta, fill you up again.."

©𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

Plagarism not authorised.

m.list!

[kaidabakugou]

PAIRING: MERMAN! KATSUKI BAKUGOU X F! READER

WARNINGS: reader is a bit elizabeth swan-esque, monsterfucking, oral sex, hint of temperature play, tongue fucking, spit, blood kink, overstimulation, squirt, cum eating, nipple play, multiple orgasms, finger sucking, throat fucking w/ tongue, brief descriptions of drowning, hint of guided masterbation, fingering, knotting, breeding, marking, size kink, claiming, biting

WORD COUNT: 10.2K

A/N: this is my submission for See No Evil, Speak No Evil Collab by @vampyrsm, this fic has been in my wips for months so i’m super happy to finally be able to share it with you guys after so long and just in time before the end of mermay. hope you enjoy it and tysm for reading! ♡

Escaping the royal navy’s ship on a rowboat and wandering aimlessly through sea until you could find land, was not the ideal evening you had planned. Wanting nothing more than to be within the comfort of your chambers, enjoying a good book while snug under some warm blankets. But as the first and only daughter of the governor, your life always revolved around expectations as a demure lady. Envisioned to marry a respectable man, equally well-born or superior to your rank to forge strategic political alliances and social connections for your father. 

Which is how you found yourself en route to the Royal City to marry a commodore who was a respected royal navy officer. You had no interest in being wed for politics, you much preferred to marry out of love, but your father was insistent that you accepted the commodore’s proposal. That was until the ship was ambushed and raided by pirates, the commotion working in your favor as you took the opportunity to slither away unnoticed. 

Your clothes were wet from jumping into the water in a hurry, out of fear of being spotted, and they felt uncomfortably tight against your skin. Already starting to feel tired from rowing, but pushing through the ache in your muscles, not wanting to risk someone catching up to you. Beginning to lose hope of finding anything that could help you in this darkness, with just the light from the moon illuminating your path, only to sail over waters that seem to shine when you pass through them, bioluminescent waters that glow blue when agitated.

Stories of deadly creatures living in these waters were commonly told by sailors after they returned from long journeys across the deep sea, but no one ever truly believed that such things could exist. 

You stop rowing to lean over the edge and touch the water. The fish and small crabs swimming around you make the water shine, brightening enough to allow you to see better around you. Taking this as an opportunity to remove your wet clothes, as you lay them down behind you to dry and recline over the side of the boat, resting your head on your forearm while you dip your hand into the water, the glow emitting from your movements illuminating your features. You wouldn’t be able to spot any land in this darkness so staying afloat where you at least have some light is your best option. Exhaustion catching up to you as you feel yourself drifting to sleep, before you felt the waves shift under you, making the boat sway a little harder.

You whipped your head quickly from side to side but didn’t notice anything unusual. Staying on the lookout for a few moments before settling back down to your previous spot, maybe you were just imagining things. But it wasn’t long before you felt the same jerk of the boat, a splash resonating right afterwards making you sit up again and peek over the other side. There was a large patch of blue sparkles in the water, a long trail leading towards your boat and disappearing just under it, indicating something big had just passed through. Nerves started to creep up your spine, you had nothing to defend yourself with if a large fish decided to attack and you couldn’t use your paddles, you needed those to row into land and not risk being stuck at sea. 

Trying your best to stay still, you waited to see if whatever it was that altered the water would appear again. Wrapping your arms around yourself as your eyes darted all around. You were naked and defenseless, thankful that at least the water was still warm, expelling the heat it absorbed from the intense sun during the day. 

Your eyes drifted over to your side again, distracted by the small fish jumping up and down the water to catch some small prey flying above it, causing the water to glow more and more with each jump. But you failed to notice the large figure stalking towards you from a few feet away, only becoming aware once it reached the front of the boat when you felt it rock gently under you, as if it was being held by something.

You were frozen on your spot, whatever is in these waters with you is hidden behind the bow of the boat. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you force your body to slowly approach the front edge, hands gripping the wood as you peek over the ledge. 

A spark of color is the first thing that catches your eyes, pastel orange scales that turn iridescent under the moonlight coating a long luminous tail. Black fins at the end and protruding from its sides that sparkled a deep shade of green when they caught the light each time they rose from the water. Its center is composed of highly developed and toned muscles similar to that of a human’s physique that made your breath hitch in your throat. Trailing your eyes up to its face, you're met with intense vermilion irises staring back at you. It had the features of a human male except for the patches of scales on his skin that matched the ones on his tail. His wet blonde hair glossy under the moonshine as it draped over his forehead. Small gills adorned the side of his neck while spiky fins expelled from behind his ears, the orange on them a little darker than the one on his tail.

Distracted with the appearance of the creature before you, shocked with what you were seeing, you were startled when he slowly rose from the water to come face to face with you. Curious eyes trailing over your features as his head tilts to the side, wandering down your figure and stopping on your legs, focusing on them for a few moments before his eyes shoot back up to your face. 

Placing his hands on the edge of the boat near yours, you let your eyes drop to them. Scales covered the skin on the back of his hands and trailed up his forearms, disappearing just before his elbows. Strange webbing stretched between his fingers that looked almost transparent. And claws, long and sharp enough to rip through flesh. When you tear your eyes away from his hands, lifting your head up to look back at him, a small gasp leaves your lips as you notice how much closer he is to your face. He was beautiful, smooth soft tanned skin that glimmered under the moonlight, his fins twitching with every rise and fall from your chest, complementing his chiseled jawline. Rosy plump lips that make you lick yours subconsciously, the action not going unnoticed by him as he stares down at your lips, shiny and slick.

Mimicking your actions, his tongue darts out of his mouth to lick his lips, the wet muscle long and pale. Allowing you to catch a glimpse of his sharp teeth, the sight making your chest rise harder as you take in a deep breath, his fins twitching at the sound again. You capture his eyes again, deep pools of red throwing you in a haze as you get lost in the intensity from them, only the loud sound of his wide tail splashing against the water pulling you from your hypnosis as you take a quick peek at the long limb, finding the iridescent scales dancing under the moonshine with every movement of his tail captivating. 

The stories you've read about the man-eating monsters that supposedly lived in these waters never mentioned that such mesmerizing creatures could also be roaming in them. They told tales of hideous things that would stalk and toy with their prey, rumored to have magical powers that allowed them to control the weather to sink ships into the depths of the ocean and eat their unfortunate passengers. But you found it hard to believe that the beauty before you could spawn such chaos. A beauty so alluring that you had to retain from reaching out to touch him, feeling your hands twitch with the desire to do so, but your mind still held a hint of fear towards the mysterious soul.

Too caught in your own head, you jolted when the creature hoisted himself up into the front of the boat, his tail hanging off of the ledge, still splashing it in the water creating more and more blue sparkles around you. Making you crawl backwards into your original spot at the center of the boat, your chest heaving as fear started to sink into your skin once again, unsure of what the creature's intentions were. 

Your legs were sprawled open in front of him, when you noticed his eyes trailing down your body and settling on your exposed sex. He licked his lips again, this time at the sight of you presenting yourself to him. The action makes you jump as you quickly close your legs and bring them near to your chest, realizing your mistake. A dissatisfied grunt resonating from deep in his chest at your reaction as he gets closer to you, webbed hands reaching for your leg as he drags his fingers softly across your skin. Stroking up and down your calf before firmly wrapping around your ankle, repeating the action on your other leg before prying them open for him. 

Suddenly pulling you towards him so your cunt is right in front of his face, the abruptness making you yelp as you stare deep into his eyes, his tail swinging behind him while he stares back at you. Caressing your legs again before he rips his eyes away from yours and settles them down on your cunt. Darting his long tongue out to take a scrutinizing lick through your folds. A soft gasp leaving you both as your eyes meet again, the fins on the side of his face twitching rapidly at the taste of you before his tongue starts licking your cunt more eagerly. Soft mewls burst from your chest, the feeling of his wet, icy cold tongue darting feverishly through your folds foreign to you as it sends shivers across your body.

You've never been intimate with anyone, being taught that you needed to save your purity for marriage. The only intimacy you've experienced is the rare times you would allow yourself to succumb to your sinful thoughts and bury your digits deep inside your own warmth, letting your fantasies drift you into bliss within the privacy of your chambers late at night. You had always expected that your first time would've been one of law and order with a man fitting for your standings and one pleasing for your father. One to be witnessed by a priest to ensure your communion was pure and true at the night of your wedding. But all those thoughts were now drifting away by the currents of the sea and replaced by the creature between your legs. 

His tongue was driving you insane, thick globs of saliva dripping from his mouth and onto your already sloppy pussy. Grunts and mewls vibrating in his throat as he flicks it up and down your parted folds, webbed hands wrapping around your plump thighs as his claws dig lightly into your smooth skin, not hard enough to break through it but firm enough to leave red lines and pointed indents in their wake. 

He circled his tongue on your entrance before pushing the tip into your slick pussy. The intrusion rips a moan from you while your walls clench around the wet muscle. His eyes dart towards your face as he slows down his movements, slowly bullying his way against your pulsing walls as he stares at you, scraping his nails on your skin to soothe your nerves while he curls his tongue back and forth until it's fully settled inside you. Making you feel so full that you almost couldn't breathe, your mind clouded with pleasure as you allow this man… this creature to have its way with you.

He stays buried in you, blown out eyes looking back at your glossy ones before he begins to pump his tongue in and out of you. Starting slow and gradually increasing his speed as he brings his open mouth down to latch around your cunt and suck on your folds. Your moans echoing throughout the quiet sea for the waves to swallow as you feel a pressure build deep inside your lower abdomen, pressure similar to the one you've felt with yourself but far more intense than you could have imagined. 

Your body was shaking and a thin layer of sweat was coating your skin as heat courses through your body. Your orgasm hitting you so hard that you barely had time to register what was happening as your vision got blurry. Legs twitching as the creature between them continued his assault on your cunt, tongue lapping up your release while he continued pumping it against your silken walls. Sharp nails digging a little harder against your skin when he grips your thighs to prevent you from closing them around him, feeling the skin tear under them as blood begins to trail down along the webs of his digits whilst he continues sucking on your folds. 

Your moans turning hoarse from the overstimulation, as you feel the pressure build up again but this one was slightly different from the last. You felt… funny in a way, you couldn't really describe it since you've never felt this way before. Darting your hand towards his webbed one as you wrapped it around his, his fingers opening up for you to hold onto as your blood now transferred to your palms as well.

“Wait, I-I feel…I feel-…” you could barely finish your sentence when you felt the knot inside you burst, a stream of clear liquid gushing from your cunt and pouring down his throat as he greedily drank up your fluids, splashing from the sides of his mouth making his wet skin glisten under the moonlight. 

Your breathing was erratic, goosebumps erupting from your skin as chills ran across your body, your skin glowing with sweat and your nipples were pebbled. He slowly pulled his tongue from your warm walls, running it through the length of your pussy before licking his lips, cleaning your release from his face as he closed his eyes, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. Slowly opening them again, finding yours already staring back at him with pure bliss adorning your face while soft pants left your lips, a small cloud of air forming with every exhale as it drifts into the wind. 

You watched as he lowered himself down to your cunt again and nuzzled his nose against your clit, taking a deep inhale to breathe in your sinful smell. Closing his eyes again as if to memorize your scent before giving it a quick lick and slowly crawling his way up towards you. Nose running up the skin on your abdomen, gently breathing you in again before lapping up the thin layer of sweat from your skin. Dragging his tongue all the way up through the valley of your breast and leaning back to stare at your chest.

Erect nipples catching his attention as he brings his clawed fingers down to flick on one of them. Causing you to capture your lower lip between your teeth as you continue to watch his every move, his eyes shifting from one nipple to the other before pinching a peak between his digits. Coaxing a moan to erupt from your throat when he pulls and twists the sensitive bud, his eyes shifting towards your face momentarily before repeating the action on your neglected nipple, your back arching against his touch while more moans rip from you. You've played with your nipples before when you pleasured yourself, but the feeling of someone else touching you in such erotic ways was making your clit pulse again and your thighs to clench. 

Your eyes were glossy again from all the attention you were receiving, your mind completely clouded with lust as this creature continued pleasing you, his curious hands roaming every part of your body as he continued exploring every inch of you. Lowering his tongue down onto your nipples as he flicked it against the swollen bud, webbed hand grabbing your breast, pulling it towards his mouth as he wraps his lips around it. Sucking hard on your skin while he slowly moved his head back and forth before releasing your tit with a wet pop, threads of spit connecting his drooling mouth with your soaked breast while lustful eyes stared back into yours.

Giving your nipple a quick final lick before switching towards the other. Already swollen and a little bruised from his fingers as he darted his tongue out to lick up and down right on the center of it at a tantalizing pace while he stares up at you. The tears clouding your vision spilling down your temples as his hot tongue lapped at your chest, the contrast in temperature from his initially freezing tongue feels so good against your skin, making your pussy clench around nothing as you feel yourself getting closer to another orgasm just from the stimulation on your chest. 

Unable to resist the pulsing on your clit as you bring your fingers down onto the nub and start rubbing fast circles on it. The action not going unnoticed by the scaled man as he wraps his lips around your nipple, continuing to flick his tongue faster inside of his mouth as you arch your back, pushing further into him. The knot in your stomach bursting as soon as it builds, throwing your head back as breathy moans escape your lips while your arousal drips into the wooden floor of the small boat. You run your fingers through your messy pussy to collect your fluids, bringing your digits up to your mouth as you suck on your fingers, tasting yourself while you stare down at the creature still sucking on your nipple. Dipping your fingers back down to collect more before lifting them up to your lips again, the fins on his head flicking rapidly all of a sudden as he removes his tongue from your breast, a wet slurp echoing in the wind as he brings his face closer to yours.

His eyes staring at your fingers stuffed inside your mouth as a webbed hand wraps around yours to pull your fingers out of your mouth and into his. Eagerly sucking the mixture of cum and spit from your digits, a whine vibrating from his throat followed by a soft purring, similar to that of a cat as his eyes open and close softly, his brows rising in the center as another whine rips from his throat, muffled by your fingers in his warm mouth.

Pulling your fingers out of his mouth, he leads your hand back down onto your cunt, collecting your release again before presenting your hand towards your lips once more. Quickly parting them as you run your tongue against the underside of your digits, licking from where your fingers meet your palm all the way up towards the tips and repeating the action. His eyes never leave yours as he brings his face closer to you, his tongue meeting yours when he licks the top of your fingers, mirroring your actions as he licks from your knuckles and up towards the tips. His tongue rubbing against yours in between your digits as your hot breaths mix with each other and drift into the cold air. 

The feeling of cold claws barely digging into the back of your neck is the only warning you get before he pulls you towards him, pressing his lips against yours. His tongue dragging across your bottom lip before he pushes it past them and down your throat, lips stretching wider and wider as he thrusts the large wet muscle in and out of your throat. Thick webs of saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth as it dribbles down on your chest. The feeling of having your mouth so full making your eyes roll as fresh tears gloss over them while the sinful squelch resonating from deep inside your throat causes the muscles in your thighs to tense, wanting to rub your thighs together to relieve the ache building on your clit again, but unable to do so from the creature hovering his waist between your legs.

The lack of air is intoxicating, feeling the pressure build in your head as your  hands reach up to hold onto his muscular shoulder while your nails dig into the scaled skin, leaving crescent moons in their wake. A muzzled high pitched whine vibrating from your chest, begging him to give you a moment to breathe, to which he complies as he starts to retract his tongue from you. Frantically breathing air back into your lungs while he leans down to lick the drool on your chest, not giving you much time to recuperate as he lifts his head back up, nails digging into your nape again as he pulls you closer. 

“Wait!..”, you scream while pressing a hand on his chest, big red eyes staring expectantly back into yours as his fins flickers back and forth rapidly, noticing how his gills open and close softly on the side of his neck. 

“I need a minute Mr…”, you said in a breathy sigh as you trail off, unsure of what to call the creature staring back at you. 

“Bakugou.” Your eyes widened, your breath stuck in your chest again and your parted lips stilling, unsure if you heard correctly or if your ears were deceiving you.

An almost inaudible ‘what?’ leaving your lips as you stare at him, confusion written all over your features. 

“Bakugou”, he repeats. This time you hear it clearly, his raspy voice sinking deep into your ears as your eyes flutter. 

“You-you can speak?”, he responds with a nod as you feel his claws draw ovals on your nape, tangling with your damped hairs as you both continue to stare at each other, taking this opportunity to catch your breath while you try to calm your thoughts that are going wild with this new revelation. 

All the tales you've been told before about the creatures that lived in waters like these never mentioned anything about them being able to speak the common tongue, curiosity overtaking the better of you, wanting to know more about him and what his intentions with you really were. 

“What um- what are you?”, you ask after taking one last big breath to settle down, noticing how his eyes continued to shift down to your exposed chest with each inhale before meeting yours again.

“A merman”, he answers back briefly as he starts to untangle his claws from your nape and run them softly down the side of your neck to hook them under the thin chain of your necklace before settling on the small pendant in the center. Looking down to where his clawed fingers are holding the golden coin remembering when you first received it many years ago, back when you didn't have so many obligations and was still allowed to explore the town without limitations. 

You would visit the docks when fishermen would return from big expeditions and watch as they unloaded their ships with all kinds of things they found in their journeys, remembering how you would sneak into Mr. Aizawa’s ship to get a first look of the different animals he would import back from other lands to expand his market, until he found you one day whilst you were distracted looking at the remains of what looked like a shark, although you've never seen one before that time, you had read about them.

“You lost, little one?”, Aizawa startles you as he circles around you to cover the carcass with an old cotton sheet.

“My apologies sir, I- I just wanted to see the animals, please don’t tell my father”, you begged him as you fisted your dress with your head down.

He stared down at you for a moment before patting your head, messing up the pristine hairstyle your mother had done for you that morning, after all you were the daughter of his highest paying customer, so it was in his best interest to avoid any conflict.

“Relax…”, he breathes out whilst crouching down to your level, “... I won't tell if you don't”, he whispers while shooting you a wink, making you smile back at him as you offer him a nod in agreement. Your eyes drift behind him as they fixate back to where you were staring at the carcass, asking Mr. Aizawa what it was as your curiosity gets the better of you. 

“You don't want to know'', he says as he stands up straight, extending his hand towards the other cages below deck to shift your interests elsewhere. 

“Is it a shark?”, you ask while walking along with him, looking over your shoulder towards where its tail is still peeking out from under the cover, long purple-ish scales catching your attention before Mr. Aizawa’s hand obstructs your vision.

“Something like that”, is all he says before he encourages you forward towards the small cage with small round furry animals he calls rabbits, successfully shifting your curiosity elsewhere as you crouch down to pet the small creatures.

Later walking you out onto the docks to send you off back home safely, the sun shining against the rows of different golden chains and beaded jewelry around his neck catching your eye as he notices you staring at them. 

“You like ‘em”, he asks while crouching down to your level again. 

You nod at him while pointing at one with a skull on it and foreign figures around it, “what does this one mean?”

He looks down at the one you're pointing at before reaching up to untangle it from the others as he presents it to you, “this one is a gold medallion”.

“What is it used for?”, you asked while tracing your fingers along the designs, feeling the shape of each indentation before tracing the skull at the center. 

“Mm not sure, found it on one of my expeditions south of the Caribbean Sea… you like it?”, he asks as you meet his dark eyes, shifting your gaze towards his black strands of hair trapped inside beads of different colors and sizes matching the ones around his neck and wrists, looking down at the medallion again before nodding as you glance back up at him.

“Here…”, he breathes out while reaching up to place it over your head and secure it around your neck, “... you take care of it for me, yeah?”

“Really?!”, you ask excitedly as you run your fingers along the skull again.

“Mhm, but be careful with it, okay?, golden medallions are made of ancient aztec gold that is quite important and are very seeked out by pirates”, he warns while pointing a black nailed finger at you to which you quickly glance at before eagerly nodding again. 

“Very well, now go on before your father comes looking for you”, he says as he waves you off, quickly thanking him before saying your goodbyes as you hurriedly make your way back to the manor whilst hiding the necklace under the ruffles of the neckline of your dress. 

Aizawa watches you from a distance as he takes in a deep inhale, relieved he got rid of that little problem for the time being until destiny decides to unite you both again.

Those were simpler times you supposed, although never in a million years would you have thought to find yourself in the situation you were in right now, with a merman laying across your stowaway boat, his tail so long that is hanging off of the edge with some decent amount of length still hidden under the bioluminescent waves whilst he traced his clawed digits along your medallion, his other webbed hand caressing your sides as his eyes roamed along your body, feasting on your exposed skin. 

Feeling his mouth begin to salivate at the sight of your pert nipples as he begins to lower himself to your chest before he feels your sides tremble under his grasp making him stop as he looks up at you, noticing how your jaw is now shut tight. Tilting his head from side to side as he studies you whilst you stare back at him, your hand lightly touching the scales on his shoulder feeling their texture change depending on the direction you caress them. His fins flicked occasionally, but not as rapidly as before as if he was waiting for something. 

Another shiver ran down your sides making him tighten his grip on your hip, but his eyes never deviated from your face. You weren't sure of what he was waiting on, but you simply thought that maybe he was allowing you to catch the breath you asked for as you continued to run your fingers against his scales since he didn't show any signs of discomfort towards your touch.

He watches you as you turn your head to the side when the splashing sound of another fish capturing its prey gets your attention, his eyes darting towards your chest when you take a deep breath when you turn towards him again, finally getting what he was waiting for when he hears the sound of your teeth gently tapping against each other as you exhale, his fins twitching at a fast pace as he gets closer to you whilst his claws drop the golden medallion to tangle with the hairs at your nape again, cradling your face in his webbed hand.

“You’re cold”, he worriedly states while studying your face as you stare at him shocked, his words catching you off guard before you can actually register them, only nodding back at him as you feel another chill run down your skin. Noticing the action as you feel him gently grip your side before trailing his hand towards your elbow and down your hand, holding it in his as he pauses to glance down at it, caressing the back of your hand gently with his clawed thumb as his head slowly tilts to the side, enthralled with the smoothness of your skin compared the rough scaled texture he’s used to seeing. His eyes meet yours again as his other hand untangles from your nape and trails down your arm, now holding both hands in his whilst his digits continue to caress the back of them. 

“Get in the water with me”, he says while slowly pulling you back with him. 

“I cant”, you repelled.

“Why not?”, he asks as you watch his lips slightly turn into a pout while his fins seem to lower before flipping back up slowly making you press your lips together to hold back a smile, reminding you of a small puppy.

“I can't leave the boat and risk it drifting away”, you explain as he stares at you, hands still grasped together as you feel his thumbs stop caressing the back of your hands, causing you to look down at them briefly before meeting his gaze again. Vermillion irises studying yours before glancing around the inside of the boat, noticing the ruffled fabric of your clothes peeking behind you and fixating on your legs again. Watching how they slightly clench with each shiver before trailing up your abdomen to settle on your chest, his mouth flooding again at the sight, already feeling his tongue ache and his lips twitch to be wrapped around your nipples again. 

He didn't understand why the boat was so important to you since to him you wouldn't have a need to use it again, not after you've presented yourself to him and in his territory nonetheless, but he thought that if he was going to prove to you that he was a worthy mate, then he needed to cherish the same things that were important to you. 

Giving your hands a final squeeze before backing away into the water, he submerged himself as you quickly leaned over the edge of the boat to see where he was going, confused at the sudden change. Only catching a glimpse of his tail disappearing under the boat before you feel it move, going at a much quicker speed than the one you had when paddling by yourself, making you clutch onto the edge.

The cold breeze felt painful against your skin, making you curl into yourself as you wonder where he could be taking you, only able to see the few feet ahead of you illuminated by the moon and the splashing against the boat that activates the blue hues of the water. Closing your eyes when the force of his swimming became too much for your eyes to bear. Only opening them when the harshness of the wind no longer nipped at your skin and your ears filled with what sounded like tides rocking against the shore. To which you were correct, as you neared a small island a few feet away that seemed to be deserted from the lack of illumination, where only the shadows of the large palm trees along the coast were visible against the dark mass of fauna behind them. 

Bakugou pushed you as close to the shore as he could without risking getting stuck in the sand before waiting for you as he watched while you pulled your boat into land and secured it before entering the water with him, blue hues forming with each of your steps. Webbed hands immediately reaching for you as they trailed down your sides and onto your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his scaled waist. Gently caressing your skin as he swims around the coast towards the large rocks in the distance while staring at you when your hands reach up to touch his fins. The delicate skin felt soft against your fingertips in contrast to the scales on his body, the faint sound of low purring returning the more you massaged them as the sound blended in with the soothing crash of the waves against the sand.

“Do you trust me?”, he asked when you reached where the rocks began to disappear below the water. 

After a brief pause, you nodded in response. Even though you were still uncertain if you could truly trust him, given the circumstances he hadn't shown any deceitful signs to make him unworthy of your trust. 

He smiled softly at your approval before running his claws up your shoulder and cradling the side of your face in his webbed hand. A wet thumb caressing your temple as he gently pulled you closer whilst leaning in to meet you halfway in a kiss. In contrast to his previous ones, searing and hungry, this one was completely different. Delicate but devout as if he was trying to achieve something with it, feeling a low vibration rush through your body the longer your lips intertwined with his before pulling away with a small whine, already missing the feel of his lips against yours. 

“Now you're ready.”

“Ready for wh-”, you were cut short by him suddenly diving into the water at a great speed while holding you tightly against him. Eyes widening in terror causing panic to surge through your body as you try your best to hold in your breath while squirming in search of a release to swim back up to the surface. But to no avail, Bakugou keeps taking you both deeper and deeper along the wall of rocks before entering a small cave hidden behind some algae. Beginning to feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen as your body forces you to take in a gulp of air that causes you to panic further when you breathe in the salty water. But to your surprise the water feels like it disappears as soon as it enters your lungs and is replaced with air. The realization makes you stop your thrashing as the panic is now overtaken by confusion. Your mind ran wild with all sorts of questions until your eyes met Bakugou’s, a grin adorning his features as it became clear to you what was happening. The kiss must've been dosed with some of the power that his kind possessed and that's why it felt like your skin was vibrating when it happened.

As the nerves in your body began to die down, you took the opportunity to look around your surroundings, only to feel your breath get stuck in your throat again at the sight. The cave was blooming with life as all sorts of underwater life swan around you. Coral reefs scattered all around the area with a vibrancy of colors and a variety of formations that you couldn't begin to wrap your head around. Orange and yellow tubes standing out from between the algaes as the reef shifted to blue and violet corals that took a more circular shape as different plants danced around them. Fish of all sizes swam along the reef as they didn't seem to pay you much mind, too distracted with finding smaller prey hidden between the long algae. 

Bakugou smiled as he watched you take in your surroundings in awe, glad that the hard work that he had put into his home throughout the years for this exact moment that he'd get to bring his mate home had been worth it. Leading you towards a trail that seemed to be lit up by underwater crystals that shined a beautiful celeste color towards another cave entrance. Guiding you through the abundance of crystals and corals before reaching a clearing further in where the water pooled and you could breathe above the surface again. The cave felt oddly warm despite being hidden under the ocean and the crystals expanded all the way up to the ceiling, illuminating the entire area with long descending vines that possessed flowers that also shined bright, their reflection dancing against the water. The floor was decorated with soft moss and rare flowers you've never seen before that expelled a rich aroma you could smell even from far away.

Bakugou swam to the edge of the mossy floor before hoisting himself up onto the ledge with you in his arms. Sliding further into the clearing until his tail was completely out of the water as he settled down with his head against a pillowy sponge, shifting his body to lay you down next to him. Taking a moment to peer down at you while you sneaked a glance at his tale, now able to see it in all its glory as your eyes fixate on it. The iridescent pale orange turning a darker shade that matched the fins on the sides of his face now that it was out of the water and the humid air of the cave was flowing through his scales. Feeling his chest swell up with pride the more you observed his tail as he started to slowly flick it up and down for the light from the crystals to glide across to show you more of its beauty.

Only getting pulled away from your fixation when you felt cold claws hook along the underside of the chain of your necklace before picking on the medallion again. The golden coin catching the merman’s attention again as he drags his thumb against the foreign markings around the edge of it. 

“Where did you get this?”, he asked as he forced his eyes away from the dark eyes of the golden skull at its center to look at yours, noticing the small red lines forming on the whites of them from the salt water as he listened while you explained the story of how the medallion came into your possession. 

“Sounds to me like that old man only gave it to you because he already had his fill from it and wouldn't be needing the medallion for a while”, he argued as you watched a scowl form on his face when he peered down at the necklace again. 

“What do you mean by that?”, you asked as curiosity builds up inside of you again. To you, this medallion was just money pirates chased in order to fill their pockets with riches that didn't belong to them and waste it all on cheap ale and pay for a stay at a brothel to use women as they pleased after a long cold journey through sea. But Bakugou’s tone indicated there was something more to it than that.

“This medallion belonged to my people many moon cycles ago… it was originally used to lure merfolk to its host signifying that our mate was near”, you listened intently as he continued explaining the story behind the medallion, watching as his throat bulged and his brows frown deeper the more he talked as if he was holding back on his emotions. 

“But after pirates found out of this, they've been stealing them and using them to capture merfolk to force them to use our magic and exploit it for their own greedy desires, which is how I sensed you near my territory earlier and went to make sure those disgusting bastards were not browsing it freely”

It all made sense now as to how he found you so easily when you were in the middle of nowhere, the medallion had given your location away to him and he set out in pursuit of the intruders sailing through his waters, but must've been confused when he found you. Looking the total opposite from all the pirates he had encountered, for they were brash and smelly when you were sweet and had an aroma unlike any other that he'd ever had the fortune of smelling. Which is why instead of casting the raging tempest he had originally planned for whatever misfortunate soul had stepped into his territory, he decided to investigate you further as he was immediately enamored with your rare beauty. Something ironic for the merman, for it was usually supposed to be the other way around. But nonetheless, he was glad he didn't end your journey, because for the first time in all his lonely springs he was hopeful that fate had taken its rightful course and put you on his path, destined to meet after watching so many of his kind lose their lives on false hope and getting captured, never to be seen again. Hopeful that he had finally found his mate.

And with the way you were looking at him, he couldn't help but to believe it. Your eyes expressed warmth and love, when others had expressed disgust and mischief. This wasn't Bakugou's first close encounter with humans, he had been captured by pirates before and has the scars to prove it where their awful nets had burned his skin. But his powers were no match for those bastards, strong enough to challenge Triton, the god of the sea, if he so pleased. But war was never in his interests, for the merman only desired to find his mate and spend the rest of his days with them in the beautiful and majestic home he has worked so hard to build over the years.

Webbed fingers ran up against your arm before cradling your face in his palm, claws massaging your scalp before gently pulling you into a kiss, this one much more tender than the one on the boat as you felt yourself melt against him. Trailing your fingers against the patches of scales on his strong arm until settling on his shoulder just below his gills. A soft purring returned to his chest when he felt you deepen the kiss as you found yourself craving more of him and the same passion and overwhelming pleasure he gave you on the boat. 

Longing to feel the same bliss you experienced before, as you finally understood what all the maidens meant when you would stumble upon them talking about their intimate encounters with their partners and you couldn't help but to overhear, thinking it would help to prepare you for when your time came. And the more Bakugou delved into your mouth with his tongue, the more your body reacted to him as you felt your arousal begin to drip against your inner thighs. Although you couldn't stop but wonder how this would work with the differences of your bodies.

“Bakugou?”, you whisper as your hand slides from his shoulder down to rest against his chest while pulling back to meet his eyes. “How exactly do we um-...?”

The merman hummed before leaning in to pull you into another kiss. “Don't worry, I'll guide you.” 

Taking your hand on his chest in his webbed one as he guides it down his abdomen over smooth tangerine scales to settle just below his waist. His hand slightly pressing down on yours as your palm rubbed against the scales, feeling the change in texture when the scales shift under your touch. The rumbling emitting from his chest encouraged you as your hand began to move on its own without the merman’s guidance, causing his head to tilt back with a low groan the more you explored the slight dip beneath his scales. Watching how they slowly moved against your hand until a slit formed on his tail, running your fingertips along the edges as slick began to gather along the opening.

Your eyes flickering towards Bakugou’s face, head thrown back and eyes tightly shut making you bite your lip when you venture your fingers further whilst watching his reaction as you run them along the center of his slit, gathering some of his arousal before slowly inserting two fingers inside. Wet warmth immediately engulfed your digits the more you push them in as your thighs twitch from the breathless moans that escapes the merman’s mouth. 

Slowly pulling your fingers out to the first knuckle before pressing them back in as you started to thrust them in and out of the slick hole. Your arousal now pooling beneath you as your cunt clenched around nothing with every soft gasp and whine he made with each of your movements. A whine escaping your own lips when the merman leaned down against your ear and ran his tongue along it, occasionally sucking on your lobe as the slight scrape from his sharp teeth against your skin left you gasping softly as well. Turning your face towards him as your lips immediately linked, sloppily kissing each other as his tongue tasted every part of your mouth before slowly sinking down your throat as drool began to slip past your lips and drip down your chins, making your eyes roll behind your closed lids at the filthy act. 

Pulling the salty muscle out after wallowing in the feel of your throat tightening around him with each gag. Loving the sight of you panting before him as he runs his tongue across your spit-covered collarbones while you catch your breath, never stopping the thrusting in his slit as you begin to feel something hard rub against your digits. The slick becoming more viscous as wet sounds mixed in with your cries and gasps.

Curiosity creeps at you as you scoot down, laying kisses along his muscular chest and abdomen before settling in front of his slit. Pressing quick pecs around it as you feel the merman tremble against your touch, webbed hands reaching for you as they caress the side of your face. Slowly pulling your fingers out as you scissor them to examine the thick slick coating them as sticky strands form between your digits. Bringing them towards you as you give an experimental swipe of your tongue, lashes fluttering at the salty taste before popping them inside your mouth to suck them clean. 

Bakugou’s watchful eyes never leaving yours as his breath hitches in his throat when you lower yourself and give his slit one broad stroke with your tongue. A much louder purring emitting from his chest with each swipe before a yelp bursts from him when you dipped your tongue inside his slit. Slick gushing from it as you tried your best to swallow it all down eagerly while your fingers massaged along the scales around the entrance. 

Stimulating the area until you felt something hard poke the tip of your tongue as you lean back to press your fingers around the slit, feeling how the scales continued to shift again while you watched as something began to emerge from it whilst the merman thrashed under your touch, hearing how the fins at the end of his tail rapidly flapped against the mossy floor and the ones behind his ears flickered.

The merman's cock was an intense shade of red, long and thick with a smooth tapered tip and small ridges along the sides leading towards a pulsing knot just at the base of it. The small hole on the pointed tip leaking a white liquid equally as viscous as the one gathered around his slit, that dripped down on the sparse scales matching those on his body that adorned the bottom of his shaft as it twitched in front of you. Making you lick your lips as you feel yourself salivating at the sight. 

Ignoring how Bakugou opened his mouth to speak but the words trailed off into a moan when you lunged forward to run your tongue along the scales beneath his cock as you shifted your head from side to side to lick around his length, tongue getting caught on each of his ridges. The feel of them causing a shiver to run down your spine as you wondered how they would feel moving inside you before wrapping your lips around the tip, flicking your tongue against it as you lap up his thick release directly from the source. Taking his length in your mouth the best you could, cock too wide to fit completely inside as you wrap your fist around the rest and start pumping it slowly.  

Your other hand nestled between your wet thighs in an attempt to relieve the overwhelming tension on your cunt but to no avail, you needed more - craved more. And Bakugou could tell, desperate for more as well as his knot felt hotter than ever, aching to be buried inside you.

The claws that were gently cradling your face, now dangerously gripping your nape as they urge you forward. Lifting your head from his cock with a wet slurp while strands of slick stretch from your lips to his tip as they cling to your chest when you move further to straddle him. Legs stretching wide from his ample tail as his claws travel down your body until reaching your waist to grope the fat on your hips. 

Guiding you to sit against his throbbing cock as he urges you back and forth to grind your slick pussy against him. The feeling of his scales and ridges rubbing against your cunt makes you shiver while his tip leaks more and more with each motion. Lustful eyes staring down at how your lips part around his thick shaft, his tip nudging your sensitive clit smearing thick arousal against it as it mixes with yours causing wet noises to fill your ears the more you grind on him, gradually picking up the pace until you feel your thighs shake with the need to release, the hard knot at the base of his cock growing bigger as it stretches your lips further, the thought of it inside of you being the final push you needed as you gush all over his cock.

Your warm fluids against the merman’s scales drive him insane as they seep into his slit, the knowledge of you marking him with your essence turns him feral, urging him on with the desperate need to bury his cock inside of you and claim you the way you did him. The way only a mate can.

And he does. Flipping you both over as he rests his strong scaled arms on either side of your head, caging you beneath him while pressing his large cock against your cunt, grinding on you like before with more vigor. His cock leaves a trail of arousal along your abdomen with each yerk of his tail as it starts to pool in your belly button and trail down your mound as the wet noises resume. Your legs parting wider to accommodate his size when your abdomen twists with pleasure, craving to be plugged full of him as your eyes water with how good his ridged cock feels against your needy pussy. 

“Bakugou - ahh - please, put it in”, you whimper as your hands reach for him. 

“Thought you'd never ask”, he rasps, warm breath hitting your skin as he leans down to capture your lips. Dragging his tip down your folds to your entrance, teasing it before pressing forward, slowly entering while your tight walls clench around him. The stretch makes you whimper into the kiss as his tongue ventures inside your mouth, tasting every inch of you as it travels further in, swallowing your cries.

His length gradually pushes into you until his knot is pressed against you, your cunt not quite ready to take its size yet as he slowly starts to pull out, the feel of his scales shifting inside sends shivers up your spine, making you moan around his tongue, tears spilling from your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. His hips stop when only his tapered tip remains inside you before thrusting back in, this time a little quicker than before as the slick from your bodies makes it easier for him to slip right in. 

Drool drips from his mouth to yours as it dribbles past your lips and down your cheeks. The purring from his chest now mixing with his whimpers while the tips of his fins vibrate from the new sensations. Your pussy unlike anything he's ever felt before, tight and hot - so incredibly hot he feels he mind burst from just being inside of you, so used to the cold touch of the sea to aid him during mating season when all he had were his webbed fists. Gummy walls gripping his cock with each thrust as he increases his pace while clawed fingers guide your legs to return to his scaled waist as you wrap them around him.

Pulling his tongue out of your mouth to allow you to catch your breath as the sound of your cries fills the space. Leaning back to watch how your pussy swallows him, his length glistening with your cream as it rings above his knot, so wet and willing for him as he slows down his thrust to press his knot against you, both of you watching as your cunt starts to take it past the top, the stretch feeling so impossibly good and it's not even half way in. Slowly working your cunt around it as he salivates at the sight of your pretty pussy sucking him in - so tender and needy - gripping him tighter every time he pulls back as if begging to be kept nice and full, and who is he to deny you of such needs.

The feel of you is way too good, he might be addicted. The thought of keeping you plugged with his cock and fill you with load after load of his thick cum while his scales soak in your fluids ignites the carnal desire to finally make you his mate as he thrusts the remaining inches of his knot inside. Reveling in the hot, pulsating heaven that engulfs him whole as he groans at the feel of his scales getting soaked by a deliciously warm liquid. Watching as a stream of clear liquid gushes on him from your pussy while you arch up into him, flushed skin and glossy eyes staring up at him as a melody of whimpers flows past your panting lips and he thinks he's never seen a sight more beautiful. 

Pearly spikes flashing at you between his spit-stained lips as he smiles down at you, clawed hands traveling up your body, cupping your tits as they pinch and pull of your nipples causing you to release a whine before cradling your head by your neck, cold thumbs caressing your temples while sharp nails tangle with the damp hair at your nape. Leaning down to pull you into a kiss, slow and succulent, causing you to melt further into him as your stomach jumps with emotions. Hissing when those sharp canines nick at your bottom lip as the metallic taste of your blood fills your mouth. The merman takes a deep inhale when he gets a taste of it as well, eyes rolling behind closed lids as he swipes his tongue against the cut before parting from your lips. Watching as his eyes remain close, savoring your taste as his throat bulges, swallowing down the river of saliva that pools in his mouth.

A hint of fear pricking beneath your skin when he opens his eyes again, darkened irises staring back into yours, like a predator about to devour his prey - carnal and hungry - and you fear he'll swallow you whole, but a part of you might crave exactly that as you feel the pulsing on your clit grow needier. Your pussy clenching around his thick knot gives you away causing a devilish grin to spread across his features again as he slowly pulls his knot out of you before pushing it back in, molding you to his size as he starts to thrust in and out of you with ease the more your pussy sucks him in. 

Setting a steady pace while his arms travel towards your hands, capturing them in his to pin them above your head before leaning down to swipe his tongue on your bottom lip again. The wet muscle exploring down your chin to the center of your throat, his teeth dangerously ghosting above your skin causing goosebumps to burst on your skin at the threat. Feeling how the cold tip of his nose caresses the area before trailing to the side of your neck, lingering on the juncture of your shoulder as he takes a deep inhale against your skin followed by a deep thrust that keeps him buried inside you all the way to the base of cock before resuming his pace when he moves up to your ear. Sucking on your earlobe as you feel the tip of his tongue flick against it inside his mouth before pulling back and settling back down the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder.

The purring in his chest shifting into what could almost sound like hungry growling as the need to make you completely his overtakes him. The teeth that sink into your neck pull a scream from your throat as he plunges his cock forward, creamy ropes of cum spilling inside of you, filling you up with a hot load that pulls another orgasm out of you as your pussy clings to the knot pulsing against your gummy walls while you gush all over his scales. The flow of blood traveling into his mouth sends him into bliss as it urges him to spill more of his seed into you, certain to breed you with his litter from the copious amount that is now dribbling down your rear and pooling beneath you to be absorbed by the mossy floor. 

By the time his knot stops pulsing, you're both left a sweaty and panting mess. His fangs retreating from your neck as blood drips from the puncture to which he dives back in to swipe his tongue against it to clean it before meeting your gaze again. Noticing how his eyes have returned to the love-filled ones that first brought you here while his hands release yours to gently brush the stray hairs clinging to your damp forehead before leaning down to capture your lips again in an even gentler kiss, the taste of your blood still lingering in his mouth while he shifts his weight so that you could lay on top of him, while you wait for the knot inside of you to swell down. 

Soft touches and loving gazes as he tends to you, making sure your comfortable and taken care off as he wiggles his tail to sink against the moss, creating a bed for the both of you to rest makes you realize how thinking back on it, it was an insult to compare this to that of the maiden's encounters, for those were thoughtless with the purpose of creating more heirs to their husbands family names and earn them more obliging political images, but this was filled with love and attention that only a true lover could provide.

And although you weren't certain where your future would lie alongside the merman, you felt oddly at peace after so many years of chasing after dreams or expectations that could never fulfill your needs quite like he can as you settle against his chest, gentle claws rubbing circles against your back as the soft purring from his chest lures you to sleep. 

“Rest, my mate”, you hear the faint whisper of his voice against your hair as you smile to yourself, making the mental note to thank Captain Aizawa for the medallion regardless of his intentions if destiny ever were to set him back on your path.

[penvisions]

stages of devotion {holiday hustle}

Pairing: Holiday Impaired! Joel Miller x Expert Holiday Baker! Reader

Summary: The holidays came fast this year, but with it comes a father and daughter pair you didn't ever expect to see again.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: holiday triggers, holiday stress, baking stress, food industry triggers, family issues, minor off screen family dynamics, super soft yearning, mutual pining, sexual tension, smut, p in v, creampie, joel's dirty talk deserves its own warning, lemme know if i missed any!

A/N: so its a few days after the holiday that i announced this on. so so sorry for the tease, y'all. finally made it to my "weekend" only to get sick :c trying to make the most of the days though (within reason). love y'all and hope you enjoy this!

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

The holiday season sucks.

That’s about all you’re confident in as you twirl the piping bag in your hand for what feels like the thousandth time that morning. There’s an entire rack of pies beside you, tray after tray that needs to be garnished with cremieux and a little chocolate coin that has the first letter of your bakery branded on it in gold. Behind it are three more of the same pie. Behind that are four more of apple.

Apple and pumpkin. The only flavors you offered for the season. One hundred each, plenty enough to keep you afloat for the next month or so if you sell out. Especially if you sell out the display case as well.

Your bakery is small, just you and your friend Colbie. Something to be passed in the blink of an eye on the busy downtown street. But it was born of passion and creativity, a space you carved out in the big scary world all for yourself. You’re none the wiser of how your day will turn out as you continue to pipe the faintly black spotted vanilla over the remaining pies, moving onto fetching things out of the oven as timers begin to go off and garnish the ones already chilled from an earlier bake.

Just down the street, Joel and Sarah are strolling down the sidewalk from where they parked the car at the end of the block.

“Don’t see why the crew needs more food, baby girl.”

“Because we need to show our appreciation for them, dad. They’re working the morning of thanksgiving, for crying out loud.”

“This isn’t exactly a tax write off…”

“Dad!” The exasperated teenager nudges at his side with her shoulder, catching his ribs lightly. But he doesn’t stumble nor do his steps falter, he lets her win a lot of the time but this? He still loves how she tries to roughhouse with him only to realize that he’s always gonna have the upper hand unless he gives into her. Her pout and huff draws a laugh from deep in his chest.

“It’s true! I gotta pay for it all outta my account, not the business. We already picked up breakfast for everyone and half the men are gonna store it in their coolers for a later time.” He pivots her toward the doorway just past a large window display, squares of glass allowing for a glimpse inside a local bakery.

“Don’t you put the catering on the business card?”

“Well yeah, but their overtime for today is coming out of it too.”

“Maybe if we ask the owner, they can discount us or something?” Sarah is suddenly stopping just inside the threshold, watching with wide eyes as her father walks in behind her. The scent of fresh baked bread and flaky pastries welcomes them despite the empty lobby. “Is there a reason you’re so hesitant to use the company card? I thought the business was doing good?”

Joel heaves a heavy sigh, placing both his hands gently on her shoulders to hold her attention and give her all of his.

“Everything is fine, Sarah.” His brown eyes take in the way her own multifaceted ones gleam in the bright sunlight shining in the muted green space the lobby has been painted. Plants alive and well, live wood bar top against the window for people to sit at. “Money is my worry, but there ain’t nothing to worry about okay?”

“We can still ask after a discount, it doesn’t hurt, right?” Suddenly shy, her eyes break contact with his and turn down to her scuffed shoes. “I know that it’s new, but the therapy sessions aren’t exactly cheap or covered by the insurance.”

“Hey now, don’t go worrying about all that either.” Joel’s voice is so soft, floating through the air and sneaking into the kitchen through the siding of the swinging door. You pause in the rosette you were piping atop a cake, just little personal ones with autumnal flowers for the season. “I’m the dad, and that’s a dad thing, okay? You want to keep goin’ and that’s all that matters. Just want you to be okay, that’s all I ever want ‘cause I love you so damn much, okay?”

She nods once, still not bringing her eyes back up but she huffs out a giggle when he leans down and kisses her cheek, deliberately nuzzling the scruff on his cheek against her own.

“Besides, I don’t wanna bother them, baby girl, it’s such a small place.” With that settled they both turn back to the display cause and counter, just in time to see you approach through the window in the door.

“Joel?” There’s no hiding the smile that breaks out across your face as you push through the swinging door that leads separates the kitchen and public area. Even despite the inner turmoil you had endured after first meeting him. The will he won’t he of leaving your number for him…

“Camp lady! Dad, look, it’s her!” The excited teenager hops up and down on her long legs, arms hanging onto one of Joel’s and she jostles him. The slight melancholy of her previous words and worries forgotten with the aid of Joel’s soothing ones and your appearance. “You work here? That’s so cool!”

“Yes, Sarah, honey, I see her.” He rolls his eyes for you to see as she skips forward up to the counter. He looks good, if a little tired. His scruff is longer, body a little leaner than when you had seen him last…two months ago now. You had been so sure he would call or text, reach out in whatever way was easiest for him. And when he hadn’t…you had thrown yourself into work and prep for the holiday season. Reveling in the night you shared and taking it for what it was, not letting the lack of communication taint what had been an electric connection. His eyes are glued to you, ignoring the twirling and excitement of his daughter as she flits in front of the display case.

As you round the corner of the counter and display case, it’s obvious how busy you’ve been in the morning hours as stains darken the fabric. Reaching with a flour dusted hand, you go to shake the man’s hand but he surprises you and pulls you into a tight hug. The smell of his spicy cologne and wood shavings spurs butterflies to life in your belly and heat rise to your cheeks.

“It’s good to see ya, darlin’.” He whispers in your ear, voice all baritone gravel. He releases you just as Colbie enters back in through the front door. You see the way her eyes widen at the show of affection, she knows you better than anyone and casual touch is not something you’re a fan of. But you can tell that she immediately knows who Joel and his daughter are if the sparkle in her eye and the smirk she flashes at you says anything.

“I’m so sorry, I thought I locked the door behind me. Want me to keep it unlocked, we’ve got about fifteen minutes until we’re open.”

“Leaving it open will be fine, do you mind-“ The timer pinned to your apron tie goes off and a second later the one for the oven blares from the kitchen.

“Got it!” And she’s rushing behind the counter to slip back through the sliding door.

Joel looks like he’s about to apologize for barging in, Sarah leading him in the early hour. Coffee thermos left on the counter in the rush and his brain is working overtime without it. The pickup order she had placed with a breakfast place too busy for him to grab something there. You wave him off with a soft smile, not minding the intrusion one bit.

“My dad would not shut up about you on the way home, especially since we still have that air mattress you leant us! Thank you again so much for that, I didn’t want my dad to have to sleep on the ground with his bad back.”

“Hey now, you’re a little too forward with the embarrassing details.” Joel’s bashful words are bathed in an even tone, trying to parent his daughter but still treat her like the independent person that she is.

“So what can I do for you?” You try to fight the slight awkwardness of randomly happening across them as customers in your shop and you swear you see Joel duck his head as he roughs a hand across the back of his neck. Your causal tone and polite smile dousing the hope that had flared in his own chest when you walked out from the kitchen. “I’ve got plenty of pastries, the pies aren’t quite done yet but if you need one or two, I can add the finishing touches real quick?”

“Dad, we should get them pie! Like one each, you think? There’s five on the crew and then the secretaries too, they should get one since they’ll be waiting for us in the office. We can put the bonus checks on top with some pretty stickers! Oooh, dad we gotta stop at the art store now!”

“Sarah, honey, take a breath.” Joel claps hand over her shoulder and she beams up at him. “We only got half an hour to get to the office.”

“Oh, that’s okay! We can still do the pie each thing, right?”

“Whatever you wanna do,” He presses a kiss to the top of her head, her kinky curls flattening as he does so and earns him a grumbled ‘spent so much time on it this morning, old man’.

“So that was seven pies then?” You ask, trying to keep up with the both of them, they’ve got such an easy-going way that they communicate. Their bond obvious and their love pure as you had witnessed back at that campsite, he wants for her to have everything he can give her. It’s admirable, a good man, a good parent.

“Uh, make it ten, please.” Joel steps up to the counter, taking out his wallet from a back pocket. “Half pumpkin, half apple. So folks can pick whichever one they want.”

“Ten, got it. It’s gonna take me a few minutes to finish up, do you want a coffee while you wait?” And you swear his gaze hardens as he looks up to see the price displayed on the screen, card ready to press against the pad after you finished punching in his order on your own side of the register. The same way they had just before he had kissed you, angled toward you in front of that fire, the determination set his face in such an endearing way.

“Would be wonderful, darlin’. Just a black drip, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Hey, just so you know, ‘m sorry I didn’t call.” Joel shuffles on his feet, watching as Sarah starts up the truck and begins to dance to the loud beats he can make out through the cracked window. You had walked out with the pair to help load the bags into the extended cab of the gleaming gray truck. “I wanted to, but-“

“Life is hectic sometimes, it’s okay. I’m not gonna say I wasn’t disappointed, but I do understand.” You know he’s got a lot more going on in his life, with a child he’s raising on his own. The bakery keeps you busy, hours not quite the same as everyone. You never want to feel like you’re holding expectations for a life that just doesn’t fit into your schedule sometimes. And that included Joel, his own busy schedule not allowing for personal indulgences either. It’s hard not to feel like it’s a cruel twist of fate, that you two met only to realize the puzzle pieces of your life don’t quite match up.

“The paper, I had it. Put it in my pocket but my brother snatched the flannel instead of his own at the work site and washed the damn thing.”

“Little brother?” You tilt your head to the side, all too familiar with the chaos of sheer unpredictability one could bring.

“Yep, meddling, clueless little brother.” He’s fascinating, every little detail you learn about him draws you in closer, a pull toward the man you’ve only gotten glimpses of as of yet.

“Mine is pretty clueless too, god love him.”

“But- uh…oddly enough,” A large hand rubs at the back of his neck, the muscles of his arm straining against his flannel sleeve and catching your eye. “Mine is having a small dinner tonight, just us two, Sarah and his wife. Their twins. I know you got work today and don’t really know me at all, but I was wondering if-“

“Apple or pumpkin?” Lips pulling into a wide smile, you swear your heart is about to beat out of your chest, thudding wildly the second you realized where he was going with his explanation of his own holiday plans.

“Huh?”

“Do you want me to bring an apple or pumpkin pie?” You look up at him through your lashes, heat blooming in your chest at the insinuation he wanted you there, at the invitation you hadn’t been extended in years. Everyone always wanted the good you baked, the bread, the skills you had for the kitchen. But they never particularly wanted you around for the holidays. The family disappointment, for not being married, for not having kids, for not finishing school, for being too different.

“Darlin’ you don’t have to bring anything, just want you to come and be my date.”

And he couldn’t have said anything more perfect as you feel your throat constrict and tears well up in your eyes.

“Hey now, I mean it.” He’s shifting, hands reaching for you and you feel a little sorry for the ‘oof’ he lets out when you crash into his open arms. “Wanna get to know you, but only if you want that too. If we can carve out some time for each other.”

“Of course, Joel. That would…that would make me happy.”

“’m droppin’ Sarah off now, gotta head to the site for a few hours but I can pick you up here once I’m done. That sound okay to you?” He looks so hopefully, so happy that he can ask you in person, can ask to see you again now that he’s found you and it melts your heart. You’re sure the smile you give him is just as dopey at the one he’s beaming down at you.

“Yes, that sounds perfect. Here.” You pull away from him just enough to reach into your back pocket and brandish a business card at him. The thick cardstock is embossed in gold lettering, your name and number displayed on it proudly. “This is a little more permanent than a flimsy piece of paper.”

He pulls one of his own business cards out from his wallet as he securely puts yours away.

You continue to feel the warmth of his fingers passing it to you even hours later as you hold piping bags filled with cooled frosting, as you add frills and garnishes to pastries set in the cooler after leaving the oven a nice golden brown. And even as you feel your face heat up at the confrontation Colbie sneaks in throughout the day about your ‘gentleman caller’.

Around noon, Joel’s truck parks out front of the bakery. He’s showered, it looks like it as you see the shine to dark curls. He’s taken a shaver to his scruff as well, it’s not as long as it had been this morning.

“Please tell me you’re closed tomorrow.” Joel taps the hours displayed on the door as he steps through it, the gold lettering telling him that you were in fact not. But open at seven am sharp. Looking up from where you’re closing down the register, you hold up one finger up to indicate you need a moment.

As you continue, you can sense his gaze as it takes in the space you poured your blood, sweat and tears into. Devoted hours to manifesting and making it a reality. The case is completely empty, parchment paper adorned with errant crumbs all that he sees inside through the shiny glass.

When you step out from behind the counter, bag and keys in hand, you clock the second Joel realizes you’ve taken a moment to change as well. No longer in your dirty apron or black athleisure, but in a skirt that flows to about midthigh, tights underneath and a thin sweater. Your hair is down too, now, no longer pulled back into low pigtails and covered with a beanie for safety reasons around the kitchen.

“Darlin’, you look-“ He swallows, tongue watering as he takes in the sight of you all dolled up for him, for a date with him. “You look amazin’.”

“Just some spare clothes I had in my office. Didn’t wanna roll up to your brother’s house covered in flour and chocolate.” He’s shushing you as he ambles up, pressing his lips to your forehead as he cradles your face.

“He wouldn’t have cared and neither would I. Today is about family, no matter their shape or mess, got it? Miller households are safe places, you hear me?”

The drive over to his brother’s is short, the two of them in the same neighborhood but different blocks something that tickles you to know end. Watchful big brother, independent little brother who didn’t want to stray too far. It’s endearing, so different from you own family. Parents live upstate, brother is still in university, opting to live in the dorms instead of with you. Younger sister god knows where now, she pops up every year with a crazy tale of where she ended up for most of the time she had disappeared.

His brother doesn’t seem surprised in the least when Joel shows up on his doorstep with you at his side, his greeting a wide smile and bright eyes. His wife, Maria is just as easy going, just as welcoming. Praising you for bringing dessert and that she had totally blanked on it for after the meal in the hectic planning of the day.

The atmosphere is cozy, holiday cheer abundant despite the temperate Texas weather that plagues the state year round. Sarah is particularly excited to be helping out this year, the first she’s old enough to. A set of twins half her age run around with shrieking laughter as Joel and Tommy chase them around and keep them busy while you help out in the kitchen as well, not wanting to just show up and sit around waiting for everything to be done.

It's so different from your usual meal alone, normally just leftovers from the day before on a tray as you settle in bed and binge watch something once the bakery closes up.

It warms your heart and makes you feel full in a way that being with your family never has. From the easy going conversation with Maria, the light teasing and focus of following instructions from Sarah, stolen glances with Joel, the wide brimming smile of his brother as he realizes that the scene is a little more complete with you there now.

“Tell me I can kiss you, please.” Joe’s lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver at the vibrations that caress the sensitive skin. He’s been angling closer all afternoon, the couch cushions flattening and sloping. Pooling you closer to where his thick thighs rest, to the intoxicating warmth of his body and the heady smell of his spiced cologne. The movie credits are playing softly on the screen, everyone well fed and just now recovering to tend to things such as packing up leftovers and beginning to organize what was left.

The second you two were alone, Joel had used the arm he had slung up on the back of the couch around your shoulders to tug you in close. Tucking you into him, he used his other hand to pivot your legs into his lap. He’s kneading the skin there, over your tights. Thick fingers daring to trace higher and higher as he pulls back to look into your eyes.

“You’re so goddamn pretty, baby, can’t believe my streak of bad luck.” And at the flash of guilt in the depths of warm brown eyes, you surge forward and kiss him with a ferocity that startles him. The small ‘humph!’ and the tightening of his hand around your thigh curls desire low in your middle as his tongue eagerly meets yours as you part your lips.

“Bad luck, good luck. Doesn’t matter.” You manage between deep kisses, hands threading through the thick locks of chocolate curls atop his head. “We’re here now, I’m here with you.”

“Good.” He’s swallowing the moan that bubbles up from how he presses into you, how he pulls you flush with him.

“Joel! We got a house full of impressionable kids and you’re just makin’ out on the couch with the baker?”

The deep rumble of his chuckle does nothing but make your stomach jolt as heat lances through your core. The sound hitting deep and making you bury your face in the man’s neck as he parts only his lips from yours.

“Gotta embarrass me always, huh?” He’s holding you tight still, hands gripping and knuckles straining with the effort it’s taking to stop his ministrations.

“Just keep it in your pants, we’ve got everything packed up for y’all to take home. Sarah’s tucked into the spare room, helping out this year really took it outta her.”

“That where she snuck off to?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. We can watch her for the night. She don’t go back to school until next week right? Just come get ‘er tomorrow. And you,” Tommy aims twin finger guns at you. “Are welcome back anytime, Maria really appreciated the help in the kitchen but mostly I think she just loved having another woman around to chat with. Seriously, she’s gonna offer to come by the bakery and grab lunch one day soon.”

With that, Tommy saunters back into the kitchen with a snicker of his own and some words you can’t quite make out to the woman in question.

“Well, what do ya think?” Joel moves to whisper in your ear again. “Wanna come back to mine? Or I could take you home? Whichever you want, sweetheart.”

The sudden image of you and Joel tangled up on top of your bed has you kissing him full on the mouth one last time.

“Take me home and then take me to bed.”

Giddy anticipation fills the cab of his truck, the engine ticking as he shuts it off and just sits back for a moment. His eyes find yours and you can’t help the giggle that bursts from your chest, hands tangled and fingers twisting around each other in your lap. His hand reaches and takes one of your own, engulfing it with the sheer size difference. His beautiful hands that craft houses and woodwork, his beautiful hands that raised his amazing, rambunctious but sweet daughter, his beautiful hands that held his young nephew and niece with such care. His beautiful hands that you’ve felt explore your body twice now, the urge for him to do so again so strong it makes you feel dizzy.

“I can leave if you’re nervous, darlin’. No pressure, no hard feelings.” Joel Miller, the man that he is, knew just what to say to ease your worries.

“No, no. I just…”

“Thank you, for today.” You whisper, emotions getting the better of you. “I really thought that…this year I’d be alone again. My family only ever asks after desserts, always schedules the meal late and too far away for me to make the drive. I…I really liked spending time with you and your family today, they made me feel so welcome and included. It- it was really nice, Joel.”

The trembling of your lower lip is embarrassing but you can’t fight it off as you bare your heart to the man beside you.

“Hey now, it’s okay. I got ya,” He’s shuffling closer, the console pushed up to allow him to slide across the bench seat. “They loved you, ‘m sure they wouldn’t mind seein’ you more.”

And it’s easy, the way he soothes the turmoil in your mind, begins to help heal the trauma that bubbles up this time of year.

It’s easy how he kisses you and makes you feel like the most important person in the world.

It’s easy how he let’s you guide him into your home with clasped hands and a shy smile.

It’s easy the next morning when you wake up beside him, his naked body like a furnace under the sheets as it wraps around your own. The hours posted on your bakery door correct except for the day that follows any holiday. His breath little puffs against the back of your neck as you both share a pillow, while your exhalation becomes needy as you feel an ache between your legs. Little whimpers thrown into the air with no regard to how desperate they sound.

Heat sparks through you as you recall the desire in his hooded eyes the night before as you straddled him, taking your time with lowering yourself onto his hard cock, already dribbling when he had shucked his pants off for you to see all of him for the first time. The sight of him sprawled across your bed, head thrown on the pillows and bronze skin gleaming in the low lights strung up over your bed had all but turned you possessive. The memories were too much, kindling desire and pleasure in you in such a way that should be a warning in itself that you were fucked.

You were gone on him and you could only hope he felt the same way.

Soon enough, the shifting of your thighs to relieve pleasure that tingles there rouses him.

“Woke up needy, huh darlin’?” His voice is deep velvet, the early morning blessing him with such a soothing baritone that it almost has you rolling your eyes at it caresses over your skin much like his exploring fingers.

“Mhm, can still feel you. Right here-“ And his hand flattens against the soft give of your stomach where you guided it, just below your belly button.

“Fuck, that’s so hot, you have no idea.” He’s crowding you, body shifting to press your chest to the bed, his legs tangling with yours as he kneels behind you. He hinges your hips, bringing them up to rub the length of his cock between your glistening folds. “So full a me still, holding it like such a good girl for me.”

The whine of his name from your lips has him pushing in, slowly and carefully until his hips meet the back of your thighs. Turning it into a low moan that raises the hairs on the back of his neck. Your panting is all he can hear, the clench of your walls all he can feel as your back arches and you press back into him.

“Right here, huh?” His hand is still on your belly, and it presses now, pulling a yelp from you as the pressure in your core intensifies. Your cunt gushes around him, earning you a hiss as he grinds himself against you to make a squelching sound.

“Please please please tell me we’re going to do this again.” You move on him, pulling forward a bit, knees spreading and hands gripping tight to the sheets underneath you. Joel’s answering groan is more than enough but his voice delivers your fate in such an easy way.

“Oh darlin’, we’re gonna be doin’ this every day for the rest of our lives.” And with that he moves to grip your hips so tight you’re sure there will be reddened imprints of his fingers, pulling out in a slow drag before he slams back in and sets a brutal pace.

And maybe the holidays aren’t so bad, after all.

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[myownwholewildworld]

faber est suae quisque fortunae (a "per aspera ad astra" drabble)

main masterlist | series masterlist | read on ao3 pairing: marcus acacius x emperor's daughter!reader. summary: marcus would die for you. literally. a/n: this is a drabble from a whole story i didn't think i'd write into a fic but maybe i should?? idk c': comments, likes and reblogs are really appreciated! <3 warnings: kissing, an unhealthy dose of angst. that's it really. w/c: 579 (a baby)

“You shouldn’t be here, Carissima (dearest),” Marcus’ coarse voice was just but an inaudible whisper, his dry, chipped lips moving against yours.

His warm, wounded hands cradled your face, his thumbs swiping the salty tears falling from your tired, reddened eyes. A sob tore through your throat, unable to control the fountain of mixed feelings boiling inside you, giving way to desperation.

You were certain you were about to lose him. The man who had stood by your side through thick and thin in the last few months; the only shoulder you had allowed yourself to cry on. The rock who had kept you afloat since the death of your husband, no matter how treacherous the ocean of your emotions was. Marcus had been the only true constant for the past year of your life; the only person you could rely on and bring you comfort. The only one you would trust.

And because of that, because of his loyalty and devotion to you, he was going to die a traitor. Long forgotten were his sacrifices for the Roman Empire — his whole life committed to serving Rome, his own son slaughtered to quench the thirst of Rome. None of it had mattered.

Your father, Emperor Traianus, would have his head before he could have your hand. In your father’s eyes, Marcus had betrayed his trust, having been accused of treason. Traianus had even ventured to say Marcus had killed your late husband so he could have you. Nonsense, for you knew the truth.

You nuzzled your cheek against the palm of his calloused hand and kissed the rough skin, hugging him tighter. Only leaned back slightly to study his handsome, beaten face. A split eyebrow, a bloodstain on the white of his left eye, a broken bottom lip — your fingertips traced the map of his skin, guilt engulfing you.

“I’m so sorry, Marcus. Had I known this was how it all would unfold—” your throat clamped, your lungs exhaling all air within them in a painful wail.

“I would have done nothing different, my lady. Nothing,” he emphasized, his fingers cupping your chin to tilt your head up. “I made my choice and made my peace with it too. None of this is your fault.”

Tears sprung again to your eyes as Marcus leaned forward to press a heartfelt kiss to your forehead, his soothing touch lingering for a few seconds before he kissed the tip of your nose, then your cheeks — leaving a love trail on your skin down to your trembling lips. His mouth ghosted over yours before he pecked your bottom lip asking for permission.

Sinking your fingers in the nape of his neck, you kissed him as if your life depended on it — perhaps because it did. You sought his tongue, his sweet taste soon flooding your senses. He tasted of longing, of love, of missed opportunities, of goodbye.

But not of regret. Never of regret.

“Tomorrow I’ll die, however I won’t be giving my life for Rome but for you. There’s no better death than that. Rome has taken enough from me, won’t take my last dying breath too,” Marcus muttered, his lips pressed against your ear. “My last breath is only yours.”

Bowing your head down, you buried your tear-ridden face in the filthy tunic covering his chest.

How badly you wished it wasn’t true. But it would be, because you both had been the artisans of your own fortune.

[hightowered]

and you know i gotta say. the vast majority of the people losing their shit this weekend made it very clear that they do not understand the difference between "artists who want a measure of comfort in their lives" and "the billionaires actually being targeted by phrases like eat the rich." that is such a weird thing to be so proud to announce to the whole entire internet.

it's also extremely weird to behave as though any individual is entitled to an artist's work for free. or that the audience should be the final say in determining what an artist creates. there is a major difference between the betrayal of an artist who produces art and then banks on their social capital to engage in harmful, violent, bigoted behavior (like jk rowling) and the "betrayal" of an artist who decides that they should be or need to be compensated for their work. the latter isn't actually a betrayal at all. it's just a shift.

the thing is that the watcher boys didn't invent capitalism, they didn't invent the streaming model, they didn't invent youtube or patreon. they aren't getting 100% of the money from either. their merch doesn't magically appear as if made by elves while they sleep. their videos don't happen out of nowhere and without incurring bills. they have a business which employs people, and sure, you can say they employ too many people, but do they actually? a bunch of randos on the internet don't actually know that. they don't know these job titles, or how necessary it is to have everyone there. it's pure speculation. the entire company exists within a system they did not invent and are trying to stay afloat in said system while a bunch of assholes on the internet berate them for not acquiescing to their every whim at the expense of their artistic integrity, their ability to compensate their staff fairly, and their ability to keep making art.

and jumping from "i want to continue enjoying this artist's work for free" to "i think people should be fired and the remaining employees should be given greater responsibilities and more tasks to complete" is wild to me. there's nothing leftist in that and so trying to leverage leftist jargon to prove some sort of moral superiority is fucking wild, it's disingenuous, and it's sketchy as hell. you're allowed to be disappointed. you're not magically exempt from being told you're being an asshole if you decide your disappointment entitles you to take part in asshole behavior.

"but we don't want something heavily produced and we don't want these shows" then don't watch! that's it! don't watch! you are not being held hostage and forced to engage with this content. you have the choice not to. throwing a tantrum and launching racist vitriol at steven lim and demanding he step down as CEO shows a level of entitlement and childishness that, frankly, i wish they could have ignored, but they're both kinder & more patient than i am.

anyway congratulations to watcher on their new streaming service and their gorgeous new website, congratulations to the boys on a new step in their careers and on achieving something they've made clear they've wanted for ages, thank you to the boys for all their hard work and for sharing their creativity with us. thank you too for taking such a big and genuinely brave step to no longer be beholden to major corporations and advertisers so you can make the art you want to make. thank you to steven lim for taking so many steps back to keep the company running and for doing your best in a shit economy and while being targeted by this kind of nastiness online. and thank you to the entire team at @wearewatcher for continuing to do amazing work despite being treated like shit by the fan community at large on the internet while you're trying to make a living and create art. you all deserve better than you've been shown of late and i hate that such an exciting moment got overshadowed by so many temper tantrums.

because the whole fucking point, the dream, is getting to make the art that matters to them, without being held back. i'm sorry y'all don't want the heavily produced and high quality shit but your preferences as a member of an audience are not the law by which artists should abide. they are artists and they are free to, and deserve to, make the art they want to make.

[imsobadatnicknames2]

ur tabletop takes are fucking insufferable i can't stand the constant 5e hate coming from u and ur clique what does it matter if i want to use 5e to play everying, do u want me to learn a new game for every setting? let people play what they want, u have no right to tell me what to play

Lemme screenshot something real quick.

Like. If you find my opinions so insufferable then good news! you aren't forced to look at my blog or the blog of any of the handful of intense weirdos who agree with me. Blogs that post nothing but 5e content outnumber us dozens to one, go follow those instead.

WotC has largely succeeded in getting every mainstream space within this hobby to cater to people who think exactly like you. The idea that it's okay to never branch out from d&d and you can hack d&d for any setting you wanna play doesn't need to be defended, it's the default opinion in this hobby.

Go to any popular tabletop space and the most common response you'll find to "i want to play a game set in ______" is "here's how to reskin d&d for it". Many publishers are releasing 5e conversions of their non-d&d games, or straight up ditching their own in-house systems in favor of 5e because they know they won't sell enough to stay afloat otherwise. Go to the RPG section of a bookstore and non-5e material will take up at best a tiny fraction of the shelf space if there is any at all.

You won. Your opinion is the dominant one and still you can't resist the urge to butt in on the little spaces that people who don't agree with it have carved for ourselves just to rile yourself up about the fact that people who don't share the dominant opinion exist at all.

[moomine]

backwash | daisuke

author's note: part one of a future series... the mouthwashing brainrot is real... if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) The first day on the Tulpar is short as the reader and the rest of the crew adjust to their new day-to-day life in space. While settling in, she gravitates to Daisuke, the ship's impromptu intern, during a brief but meaningful encounter

word count: 1,153

warnings: no trigger warnings! all characters are 18+

now playing: Mook - "Malmo"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 001—

My mom wasn’t happy I accepted this job. She knows —like all of us do— that space transit is a dying market. She said: “It’s all automated now. People don’t belong out there anyway.” And yet, Pony Express is still afloat, despite it all. Why did I want to go? I don’t really know. This is all I seem to understand. I mean, what the hell else am I supposed to do with this degree? With my piloting certification? This has been my dream my entire life. If you can tell me that there’s anything better, then, please, let me know. I know I’m under contract now, and there’s no backing out. I don’t plan on it. This is what I love, isn’t it?

DAY ONE—

You would never forget the feeling of the Tulpar taking off. The shaking. The back and forth of force and resistance rocking the old ship as it exited Earth’s atmosphere, launching itself into space. It was similar to riding a rollercoaster. The build up in your torso as your stomach seemed to rise, lifting up and up until it felt like it was bulging at the base of your throat. Then it fell deep into your belly, as if trying to push itself out of your body all together, tipping over the peak of a tall slope. After a moment of nausea, there was nothing. A staggering stillness as the ship settled within the embrace of zero gravity. The persistent rocking ceased. The whining of metal warping hushed to a whisper, and then into a chilling silence. The adrenaline which had built up blended with something else. Something almost euphoric.

The cockpit was a sickly green, illuminated by the various nearby screens that signaled the take-off was a success. Under the tight grip of your seat belt, you shifted in your chair, attempting to loosen the rough fabric fastens.

Captain Curly leaned into the microphone and spoke over the intercom: “All right, folks. Thank you for flying with Pony Express,” he laughed at his own joke. “You’re free to walk around and get yourself acquainted with our lovely ship. Afterall, she’ll be housing us for another three hundred eighty one days. Let’s make this haul a good one. Cheers.”

He looked over his shoulder from where he sat, a proud smile gracing his lips. It was an almost cocky expression. He appeared proud of himself, maybe even happy to get to show off in front of a new pilot.

“How was that?” Curly asked in your direction.

“Incredible,” you said breathlessly. Your eyes were still wide from the excitement.

The pilot let out a low belly laugh. His smile stretched from ear to ear. “Always happy to please.” He turned to his co-pilot, Jimmy, whose face was almost as green as the screens that surrounded you. “How about you, Jim? Doing okay?”

“Never better,” Jimmy croaked, his eyes closed as he focused on not being sick.

Curly’s smile transformed into a smirk. A rough, friendly hand landed on Jimmy’s shoulder as Curly gave it a good squeeze.

“Still acting like a first time flier,” Curly teased him, eyes flicking back to you. “Go ahead and get settled in. Make some friends. All of that good stuff. Tomorrow the real work begins.”

“Right. Thank you.” You nodded in response. There was a quiet click as you unfastened your seatbelt and stood up straight. Your legs swayed beneath you, still adjusting to the feeling of being upright again.

The walk to the sleeping quarters from the cockpit was a short one. As you ventured down the hall —drawn deeper within the belly of the Tulpar by the sound of distant conversation— the rib-like pipes groaned as if greeting you. The door opened with a low hiss, revealing a short hallway with two rooms on either side and one at the end of the hall. In comparison to the cold, metallic halls from room to room, the sleeping quarters were a warm and welcoming sight. Out-dated wood paneling stretched up the walls, the floor a tacky linoleum in a similar tone. Inside of that tiny hallway, you started to forget you were on the ship at all.

“Listen, kid.” You saw an older man, Swansea, standing in a doorway, his north-eastern accent heavy as he spoke. “It’s all right to take it easy today, but tomorrow I’m gonna need you to take this seriously. It won’t be all coloring books and cartoons out here, you understand?”

“You got it, sir! You won’t have to worry about me one bit, I’m pretty self sufficient. Y’know, my friends back home say I’m the best-” Another younger voice spoke from inside of the room before quickly getting cut off.

“I don’t need your life’s story, kid. I just need you to pull your weight,” Swansea said.

You walked down the hall quietly, trying not to disturb the two as they continued back and forth. Each door had a last name displayed on the front, with yours at the very end of the hall. As you passed, Swansea looked over his shoulder at you and offered a small nod of acknowledgement. Just past him, you could see Daisuke who stood in the middle of his room, saying something about how he would do his best.

Daisuke’s gaze shifted from the older man in his doorway to you. Although it was only for a moment, his eyes seemed locked on yours as a soft smile spread on his lips. He stopped what he was saying, and raised a hand to wave at you. A short, but sweet gesture, which you happily returned.

“We’ll see about that,” Swansea spoke up, grabbing Daisuke’s attention once more. “I’m gonna nap until dinner’s ready. Your first task is to leave me the hell alone. Think you can do that?”

“No problemo,” Daisuke responded. He raised his hands into finger guns, shooting two shots at Swansea.

Shaking his head, the older man rolled his eyes while trying to suppress his obvious annoyance. “God, what did I get myself into…”

You entered your room as Swansea entered his, closing your door behind you. The room glowed with soft, yellow light. It was small, and almost clinical, but somehow cozy at the same time. In one corner sat a twin sized bed with a red blanket and golden sheets, and in the other was a mid-century dresser. Your bags and belongings rested in a less than neat pile in the middle of the room, clearly shaken from take off.

The high of your adrenaline had fizzled out significantly. Although you knew it would be wise to finish unpacking, your head felt heavy and your body ached, yearning to lay down for a bit. You kicked off your boots and crawled on top of the scarlet comforter. Before you knew it, you were like old Swansea, napping just before dinner.

[tojisun]

https://www.tumblr.com/tojisun/738535284282638336/a-tentative-hc-of-bimboreaders-insta-acc bimboReader is a penguin lover?! I can picture her calling ‘Simmy’ in tears when she learns that penguins give pebbles as courting gifts 🥰

she is into penguins!! it’s her current fixation, on top of butterfly migration cycles (and selfcare routines – this one is sups important because it’s also meant to give simon a moment of reprieve; just the two of them enjoying a quiet relaxing skincare sesh <33)!! and ahshdhe this made me giggle sm oh this is so adorable and silly, i fear!!!

bimbo!reader mlist <3 // divider by @/plutism ^3^

simon’s focus is splintered at the first chimes of his phone, the sound ringing within the small war room and taking the attention of his squad. his captain trails off into silence, shooting a bewildered look towards simon – it’s not like simon can blame him, after all, this might be the first time he’s actually brought his phone with him during a briefing.

“what…” johnny murmurs but simon ignores him, still planting his focus to his CO as he tilts his head in silent question. john sighs before shooting simon a short nod, giving him his permission. simon turns to leave before john’s even done nodding, his quiet footsteps drowned out by the sound of john dismissing them for the day.

simon doesn’t even need to guess who’s calling him, after all, it’s only your number he’s saved in his work phone. it’s only you who can reach him when he’s out of the city. usually, though, you wouldn’t call him at this time, choosing, instead, to send series of texts about your day or sending over pictures of mittens or anything that could have caught your fancy. so receiving a call from you worries him, the ball of anxiety in his stomach ever-so expanding until he’s all choked up.

he’s barely made it to his room when simon accepts your call, your name falling from his lips with a breathless whisper.

the answering sniffle on your end does nothing to calm him down, the worry simmering underneath his veins spiking up higher. lashing out angrier.

“shh, sweetpea,” simon murmurs, hoping he could do more than just to comfort you over a call. “c’mon, lovie. talk to me, yeah? tell me how i can help.”

“oh, it’s just,” you mumble wetly. “pebbles.”

“…pebbles?”

“mhmm,” he hears you say. “simmy, penguins give out pebbles or rocks as courting gifts!” he hears you sniffle again. “history channel said so.”

“animal planet, sweets,” simon replies automatically before he pauses, blinking.

oh.

“oh, love,” simon wheezes out, the breath coming back to him, feeling his body finally uncoil from the tension that he was carrying. he sags down to his bed and presses the back of his palm on his temple as a chuckle rasps out from his lips. “but y’r doin’ alright?”

“hmm? oh, yes,” you say, sounding less heartbroken and simon wonders if it was because your attention’s been snagged, once again, by the animal planet channel – simon could hear the familiar british narrator droning on in the background.

simon lets out a fond chuckle. “‘lright then.” he licks the back of his teeth. “tell me more about their courting style?”

he hears you gasp before a rapid fire of information is chirped to his ears, the beautiful drawl of your voice chasing away the last remnants of the worry that had choked him up.

you tell him how the documentary was upfront in saying that scientific explanation for the phenomena has yet to be fully explored, so the documentary had honoured, instead, the longstanding theory of female penguins accepting rocks as courting gifts because it shows that the male penguin knows how he can take care of their eggs. “rocks keep the eggs and their nests afloat!”

simon hums and ohh’s and ahh’s at the appropriate times, posing questions that steered the conversation to the right track when you began to mumble distractedly. simon listens in earnest because he may not really care much about penguins but he cares a lot about you. he cares about learning your interests; cares about cultivating his own because whatever his girl wants, simon promises he will learn for her.

and with the way your voice lilts in joy, well, simon knows he’s done the right thing.

(simon returns from their mission with two rocks in his person – one is a polished pebble which he painstakingly looked for when he went down to the beach. the squad insisted on coming with him although the fuckers were not of any help – not like he would’ve accepted it anyway – as they chose to just sit by the local ice cream shop and watched as simon prowled towards the shore in the middle of winter; the one he found was a beautiful hazel colour, mixed greens and browns and even a touch of blues making up the surface of the rock.

the second one he brought with him was a diamond ring.)

this is so silly i love them bad :((

tagging: @honestlyhiswife @ghostsbimbo @kenz-ee @ivymarquis @yannauauau @yaebaal @liwooa @kariiiel @loonalockley @hawsx3 @durkakakayata @littlecellist

[annwrites]

⸻ a call to arms. part nine. ⸻

· pairing: jacaerys velaryon x dragonseed!reader · type: part of a series · summary: with the war at its end, rhaenyra summons you to the red keep to choose your reward for your part in it. · tw: ptsd, war flashbacks, murder, fire · word count: 2,448

The people are screaming and great plumes of smoke rise into the sky, blocking out the sun. There is only darkness here.

Flames lick at the sides of sunken ships with sailors still trapped inside.

You can’t save them.

There is only one who you can.

The rest of them can burn.

“Jacaerys!”

You scream his name until your voice is hoarse, even it’s difficult to even try. The air here is unclean.

Everything is. Including you and the beast you ride and commit unspeakable acts upon the back of.

It reeks of the stench of burning, boiling flesh upon this stretch of sea now.

Your fault.

That is your fault.

You’d seen Vermax fall from the sky and Jace with him. And then you had snapped.

You’d unleashed Silverwing upon the enemy without reservation. Had burned ship after ship which blocked the Gullet, screaming in your grief with bared teeth like a venomous serpent looking to swallow its prey whole.

Your lover, your prince, the young man who now holds your heart has disappeared from sight.

But you know his soul has not gone quiet yet; you can still feel him within you. Buried inside of you.

Such a familiar feeling it is to you now.

One you’ll never forget for as long as you live. You pray to the Gods for as much, at least.

You know they won’t forgive you for what you’ve done here, but you plead for them not to punish him for your transgressions.

“Jacaerys!”

A scorpion bolt launches in your direction and your dragon swoops low, easily dodging it.

And the fire in your belly only grows at them trying to take you down, too.

No one here is safe. Not anymore after harming him. After killing a part of him: his dragon.

“Dracarys!” You screech , and Silverwing opens her maw and a funnel of fire shoots forth, charring the scorpion, as well as those manning it.

She doesn’t stop until the entire ship is turned into a mass of charcoal.

Tears slip down your cheeks as you begin to fear that you’ve gone mad.

You’d had something else to live for, but in this moment… In this moment, all you can think of is him. Nothing else matters. Not anymore.

“Jacaerys!”

Suddenly, Silverwing dives and dives without your command, and you don’t try to stop her, because that same draw she’s following toward something unknown, you feel it, too. Trust it. Trust her.

And then you see him clinging to the side of a ship and you could cry and shout from the relief of the sight of him.

But something is wrong.

Something is pinning him to it.

One of those same bolts that your dragon had so easily dodged is lodged firmly in Jace’s left leg, which is turned in the wrong direction.

Bile rises in your throat at what they’ve done to your beloved.

“Jacaerys!”

His head slowly rises and curls full of ash fall over his glazed-over eyes as he stares up at you.

Your dragon dives lower, her feet hanging over dark water as she flaps her wings slowly—only fast enough to keep her afloat.

You strain, reaching out a hand toward him.

“Please!” You shout with tears brimming in your eyes.

He blinks up at you and you know he’s far away within his mind. Perhaps infection is already spreading through his blood.

You won’t let him die like this.

You won’t.

You can’t.

“My sweet boy, please! My love, take my hand!”

Silverwing roars and Jace begins to reach toward you.

“Mama.”

Your brows furrow as you stare at his lips.

The words leaving them are not in his voice.

This isn’t how it happened.

“Mama.”

No, this is all wrong. This isn’t—

“Mama, wake up!”

When your eyes open, you find yourself safe within your bed, but drenched in sweat as little Maisily leans over you with a concerned look upon her young face.

“Mama,” she says, pressing her palm to your damp cheek. “Another nightmare.”

You nod slowly and wrap your arms around her, before pulling her against your breast. “I’m sorry if I woke you, my love.”

She snuggles against you.

“You have to go to the castle today,” she says quietly.

You nod while cupping the back of her head and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I know.”

“But I can’t come,” she says with a pout.

Your lip twitches. “Not today, I fear. I’m sorry, little one.”

There’s a soft knock on your bedroom door then and your eyes flit to it.

“Come in.”

The door slowly opens and your mother steps inside with a smile on her lips, if not a near-distant look in her eyes.

You understand her better now, you think.

Though, you’re admittedly not the same. She’s not a murderer. It’s not her own unspeakable acts which haunt her, but instead the death of the man she loved.

At least you do not share in that.

Alike in some ways you are, different in others.

You’re grateful that Maisily did not actually come from you, then. For you are a monster. And she is pure.

“Today is the big day,” she says softly. “Do you want to rehearse your list again?”

You sit up slowly while Maisily curls around your lap, burying her face in your stomach.

“A proper home, which I know is already being arranged anyway. Nevertheless, I will mention it. And the surety that you and Maisily will never go without again. That you’ll never want for anything,” you say, running your fingers through your little girl’s curls.

Your mother steps closer inside and wraps her shawl more tightly around herself.

“It would do you well to insist upon something for yourself,” she states, seating herself beside you.

You shake your head. “All I want is to know that both of you will be looked after for the rest of your days. That’s all I ever wanted since the beginning. And now I’m sure we’ll have that.”

She nods slowly. “I don’t imagine the queen telling you no in anything after saving the life of her son.”

Maisily sits up then and wraps her arms around your neck.

You smooth the wild curls at the back of her head.

You merely hum in agreement.

You stand silent and only your eyes roam about the room you now stand in.

All you can think about is the swords. There are so many of them.

You wonder how Aegon and his sisters were able to do it: kill thousands without remorse. With pride. With conviction.

Your body twitches and you fight the feeling to run screaming from this room in a panic down.

You need only get through this audience and then you can go home.

And then you hear it.

Click.

Click.

Click.

You remain facing forward, even if it takes all your strength not to turn and look. To watch him. Rather, see him.

The last time you did, he’d barely known who you were, he was so heavily under the influence of milk of the poppy to dull his pain as maesters tended to his ruined leg.

And then he passes you, his betrothed following closely behind.

You swallow down the lump in your throat at the sight of his polished wooden cane and the new limp to his gait.

If you had gotten to him sooner, then maybe…

You tell yourself that you did the best you could. That he may not be here at all, were it not for you.

You feel like a failure anyway.

Next is the young princes, following closely behind their brother: Joffrey, Viserys, and Aegon.

Poor Stormcloud died upon the steps of Dragonstone and Viserys’ dragon egg will forever be lost at sea. But he’s young enough that you’re sure he’ll be given another to replace it.

If Silverwing produces any clutches herself, you will offer one up to him—whichever egg he’d like.

And then the queen enters the room and all bow to her in reverence, including you.

She takes her throne and gestures that you all should rise.

Your eyes flit nervously to Jace and tears sting them at his refusal to so much as glance in your direction.

You need to accept it: that whatever it was that the two of you had—rather, what you thought you’d had—is as dead as his dragon.

As dead as your soul.

You’d been right about him from the beginning: he used you for his own purposes and has now chosen to dispose of you like waste.

You turn to the queen, knowing it matters not. You’re here for your family. And once you’ve claimed your reward for your part in the war, you’ll never see one another again.

He will go on to marry Baela and produce heirs and take the throne when the time comes. And you will long be forgotten to him.

You know not if you want for him to be to you one day.

The wounds of war you bear will never heal.

They will instead leave you twisted and broken, much like his damaged limb.

“I know little of where to start, Y/N,” the queen begins, adding a gentle, thankful smile. “Without your efforts—your part in this war—my son and heir would not be standing here with us today. Without you and my other dragonseeds, Spicetown would exist only in memory.”

You force a smile and wipe your sweaty palms against the skirt of your dress. “For the latter, we have you to thank as well, Your Grace.”

It’s true.

After you returned the injured Jacaerys to Dragonstone, Rhaenyra went near-mad with anger at the sight of her son so close to crossing the veil that shields you all from the realm of the Gods.

And so all mounted up, including her, to go and defend Spicetown.

She’d been a grand thing to behold on the back of Syrax as she served alongside you and Addam and Daemon and Hugh and more as you defended the town’s people.

Lives, homes, and shops were lost, but from what you understand, she has reallocated funds to aid in rebuilding.

The people praise her for it.

You think it is much deserved.

She bows her head slightly. “Thank you. Nevertheless, we are not here to discuss my good deeds, but instead yours, and the reward you would claim for them. For risking your life for us at the Gullet and at Spicetown. So, tell me, My Lady—for I intend to dub you as thee as well—what do you desire?”

You swallow thickly. You are to be titled now? Something you had certainly not expected… You feel yourself undeserving, but do not say this.

Her decision is made in that already.

You shift on your feet and glance quickly to Jace, who stares up at his mother, and then back to the woman in question.

“I know you assured me on Dragonstone, after the Gullet, that if we survived this war, you would provide my family and I with proper housing more substantial than what we now live in.”

She nods. “I did. I would offer you a place here, if it please you.”

Your eyes grow wide.

No.

You can’t have that.

Cannot be near, yet so far from him.

Cannot be near the reminders of this war.

“I…thank you for the offer, Your Grace. But my family and I… We wish for solitude. After…”

You glance down nervously, trying to gather yourself, ignoring the way your hands twitch and your stomach churns, making you feel nauseous. “I merely want peace. Quiet. To be left alone. I can’t…”

She interrupts, so as to lift the burden from you of trying to explain that which words have no use for. “I had anticipated you may decline. As such, there is housing just off of Rhaenys’ Hill I’ve had prepared for you. Just incase. It will be furnished and tended to however you like, to best suit you and your family. Any work you need done, I will have personally saw to.”

Your chin wobbles. “Thank—”

Your voice breaks and she merely nods her head that you needn’t say more.

“Is there nothing more I can do for you?” She presses.

You take a moment to gather yourself. “My mother. She… After my father passed, she has not been the same. To have servants to tend to and look after her—”

“Consider it done. She will want for naught and will have whatever care she requires. That burden is no longer yours to bear from this day forward.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and begin to weep, but know you must press forward for one last thing. “Maisily. My little sister. P-proper schooling. Perhaps a septa, so she might be raised correctly.”

Rhaenyra smiles. “And a septa she will have for all her lessons. And, as she grows older, if she takes other interests, say in music, or the arts, she will have tutors to guide her along in that as well.”

You bite your lower lip and nod.

Rhaenyra shifts and cradles her chin between her fingers. “Would you ask for nothing for yourself, then? Your family will be tended to for as long as my line reigns. Including your sister’s children and so forth. But what of you, My Lady?”

You shrug slightly. “That was all I wanted: to know they’ll be taken care of. And thanks to you, Your Grace, they will be.”

She gives you a warm smile of understanding. “For anything else you might need, I want you not to hesitate to request an audience with me, or to correspond by raven. You have my undying gratitude for your service to me and my cause during this war. The crown thanks you deeply.”

You bow your head. “Thank you, Your Grace, for everything. You have my family’s thanks as well.”

You lift your head and take one last look at Jace, and that is when your eyes finally meet.

It may last for only moment—you gazing into familiar orbs of brown while he looks back at you with a look of indifference, which officially shatters your heart for good—but it simultaneously feels like an eternity…and not long enough at all.

He looks away, as do you as you turn and leave the Keep for what you hope is the first and last time, never to see him again.

You wonder for the briefest of moments if you ever truly knew him at all.

You bury that grief inside of you of losing someone you love yet again, and go home to those you still have.

[biancadoes1]

Hi, I'm sorry to take up your time. But have we not been here before! One minute he ( shona and Nicola) are trying to improve his image and within hours, its all back to him and A, she must have his approval to post. Then he can put his hands in the air and says he knew nothing about it. I'm loosing the ability to stay afloat. Say something motivational to keep me going till Saint Nicola, can do something with his image. Thank you!

No offense but you’re on your own.

And who came up with the bullshit idea that Luke is controlling this girl’s social media posting? Why would he have to approve her posting when he was tagged in a picture by a restaurant anyway?

This is what makes ZERO sense to me.

No hate to you Shelly but this is the kind of fucked up mindset this fandom has right now.

Luke being fucking petty with this girl towards Nicola or Nicola being sad and running to Jake?

🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮

Please. I need people to grow up. Life is not a soap opera.

[eat-limes-bitches]

I Will Always Come When You Call

PAIRING: Female Reader x FATWS Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY:  When reader accidentally calls Bucky, he comes running to find out what’s wrong.

WARNINGS: ANGST, mentions of depression, fluff

Word Count: 1168

A/N: I disappeared from posting because, well, I had no will to write, I was in a rut. This is purely self soothing at this point because this is what I need right now. I promise that I have updates for the series soon, I just needed this first. 

Enjoy!! <3

Dividers by Rookthorne

It was the same feeling, day in, day out, the constant numbing sadness for a loss that never happened. The monsters that emerged from the deepest parts of her mind and wrapped her consciousness in toxic thoughts. People always said the same things, “Get some air, it won’t do you any good being cooped up.” “Take a break, you’re just burnt out from working too hard.” That was her problem, she wasn’t working. She couldn’t. It's hard to do anything when you barely have the will to get out of bed, let alone work. She stared at the glowing numbers from the clock on her nightstand, indicating she was, once again, still awake at an unreasonable hour. She glanced at the dark screen of her phone that was resting on the bed next to her. Why was it there again? Oh, right. She was gonna call him. The corner of her lips twitched upwards at the thought. Bucky had always been there, they had been there for each other. After everything that they went through together, with Thanos, the Flag Smashers, his amends, they were together through it all and now that everything had calmed down, she was struggling to stay afloat. Unlocking her phone, her thumb hovered over the call button. What was she gonna say? “Hey Buck, I know it's 2:30 in the morning and nothing is wrong but I need you.” She shook her head. It was stupid, if either of them were to call the other at this time it should be him. She had no reason and no explanation as to why she was feeling this way. 

Letting out a groan she leaned back and thumped her head against the headboard closing her eyes as she sunk a little deeper into her mind. “Doll? Are you ok?” Her eyes snapped open and down to her phone. Shit, she accidentally hit the dial. “Y/N are you ok? You’re worrying me sweets.” She shook her head slightly, “Yeah, sorry Buck.” She quickly hung up, cutting off whatever it was that Bucky was about to say, and throwing her phone to the other side of the bed. She hated feeling like this, this hopelessness that seemed to seep in through every pore on her skin and settle deep within her bones, like how a chill sets in after getting caught in the pouring rain. She was so deep within her mind that she didn’t notice the man that entered her flat. She didn’t hear him calling out to her and asking her where she was. Eventually the door to her bedroom opened, causing her to snap out of her trance in alarm, only to relax again when she saw Bucky standing there with a worried look on his face. 

“God, there you are. You scared me to death, sweets.” He murmured as he crossed the room to sit next to her on the bed. She stared at him with a puzzled expression on her face, tracing her eyes across his features. His hair was messy, shoes missing, probably at the front door, dressed in a pair of sweats and a dark blue t-shirt that highlighted to worried look in his eyes. She continued to stare for a moment before she finally spoke, “You came..” Bucky blinked, confusion coloring his features as he replied, “Of course I did, you called.” She froze at his words, surprise seeping into her eyes as she looked at him, trying to decide if he was serious when he broke the silence, “What’s going on, darling?” She shook her head, looking away from him, “I- I honestly don’t know, and that’s the problem.” She melted as he placed an arm around her, pulled her into his side, a gentle sign for her to continue. “It’s just- god I’m not okay.” She leaned to rest her head against his shoulder as she struggled to find the words, “I.. I’m just not myself. My jaw hurts from grinding my teeth, I can’t sleep at night, not because I’m not tired, no, I’m exhausted. It’s like I’m too tired to sleep. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time. I’m spiraling, and I couldn’t even begin to tell you why.” Once she finished, Bucky let out a sigh and pulled her further into his embrace, as if holding her would shield her mind from the toxic thoughts that tried to take her from him. “Doll, you should have told me sooner.” He scolded softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She shrugged, “I didn’t want to worry or bother you. You’ve come so far in your own healing that I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

 Bucky shook his head, “Y/N, look at me.” He placed hid flesh hand under her chin to raise her gaze so that she was looking at him, “You mean the whole fucking world to me, do you know that?” She tried to look away as color flooded her cheeks but he wasn’t having it, “I think of you every day. You’re my first thought when I wake up and the last one before I try to go to sleep. I want to help you, and before you even start with the whole, ‘you don’t have to help me’ bullshit, I want to help you.” He paused, moving the hand under her chin to thread his fingers through her hair as he looked over her weary face. “You don’t have to do this all on your own, my love, let me help.” 

His words were a soft gentle caress against the opened wounds on her soul, something she didn’t realize she needed until she had a taste of it, and with the sugary sweet words filling the holes, the negative began to suffocate, trying desperately to escape but when entrapped in his honey coated words, they just died out. She nodded her head before she spoke, “Ok…ok.” “What do you need darling, not tomorrow, not in an hour, right now, what do you need?” Bucky asked. She traced the intricate lines on his vibranium hand that was situated around her middle before she spoke, “Can you just, hold me? Just for a little bit? I haven’t been able to sleep well for three day a-” Bucky cut her off by pulling her to lie down with him, tucking her head into his chest before reaching over and turning off the lamp on the nightstand. He wrapped his arms back around her and pressed kisses along her hairline until he reached her ear where he whispered, “Get some sleep sweets. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Wrapped up in Bucky’s warmth it wasn’t long before her eyes began to grow heavy, still she managed to move her head back to look over Bucky’s face as she whispered, “I still can’t believe you came.” Bucky leaned forward pressing his forehead against hers replying quietly, “I will always come when you call.”

[runninriot]

Pining Idiots

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 28

prompt: pining | rated: T | wc: 1.000 | tags: post vecna, mild angst, feelings realisation, love confession, friends to lovers, best friend Robin Buckley

   "You are both so stupid. Hopeless and stupid." Robin throws her hands in the air, frustrated and all out of patience.

Steve must've heard her say those words about a hundred times already but still, he can't find it in him to believe that there's even a flicker of truth within her reasoning.

If Robin were right, Steve would've caught Eddie by now, apparently stealing glances at him. Because there's no way he'd miss Eddie's dark eyes lingering on him, not when Steve's own - for whatever reason - are constantly locked on the guy. He feels naturally drawn to Eddie, has this weird connection to him he can't really explain. But contrary to what Robin is trying to make him consider, he doesn't accept that it's... love.

They're friends. Good friends, maybe even the best. Grown so close over time that now, barely a day goes by where they don't spend time together. Always attached at the hip, somehow even worse than he is with Robin. And yes, Steve gets that it comes off strange for any outsider to see them cuddling and touching and kissing each other goodbye on the cheek without shame. That's not what male friends do, not usually. But fuck that, it's nice.

He enjoys the physical contact. Likes to relish in the other man's warmth when their bodies are pressed together on the couch, one arm around the other's shoulders, or a hand resting on the other's thigh. He likes the familiar scent of leather and cigarette smoke that clings to Eddie's hair and skin, enveloping Steve's senses whenever they're close. Eddie's presence calms him, makes him feel less on edge. After all those years of fighting Demons, it's a blessing to feel at ease.

Eddie is good for him. And Steve knows he, too, has an impact on Eddie. That he's less fidgety when Steve is near. That whenever the healed wounds start to phantom-ache, Steve's hand atop his shirt soothes his body's memorised pain.

They're each other's lifeline, something to hold on to when the turbulent waters of nightmarish dreams threaten to pull them down. This... trauma bond they share, this friendship, keeps them both afloat. But that's all there is to it.

They are not the pining idiots Robin says they are. Apparently too afraid of their feelings for each other, unable to acknowledge that there is something more between them. Emotions allegedly written all over their faces – Robin says it’s obvious, but it’s not.

This isn't love.

It can't be. Steve cannot let himself fall for this ridiculous idea. Because once he goes down that path, once he starts listening close to his heart in search of the truth, there will be no going back.

And he's not ready to lose what he has. Because inevitably, that would be the result of him breaking down the walls he's built to keep his own emotions in check.

Steve cannot love like a normal human being. He is too much, wants too much, gives too much - his love is smothering. All-consuming.

He'd only push Eddie away.

   "Why don't you just ask him?"

Robin's words rip him out of his thoughts and he blinks at her confused.

They're still standing in the kitchen, their friend's voices coming from the other room.

   "You know, if you don't believe me, why don't you ask him if it's true? And if it's not, well. You got nothing to lose. 'Cause you're not in love with him anyway, right?"

He doesn't miss the teasing tone, knows she's testing him, trying to break through his thick skull because she knows that he's lying to himself. Knows him better than he knows himself.

   "And what if you're right?" he asks, seemingly catching her off guard with his question.

   "What if you're right and he does love me back. What then? You really think I won't fuck it up again this time? That I won't ruin it again?"

It hurts to say out loud, to admit that his worst fear isn't rejection. It's the thought of having himself to blame for when it doesn't work out. As always.

And it hurts even more when Robin's face suddenly softens, eyes full of pity when she takes his hands in hers.

   "Babe. It wasn't your fault. Nancy- wasn't the one for you, that's all. You were both meant for someone else, and you-" she squeezes his hands for emphasis, "You could have all those things your stupid, big heart is yearning for. Your person is sitting right there, probably already losing his mind because you've been gone from his side for too long."

Robin laughs but her eyes are glassy and Steve can feel a tear making its way down his own face.

Fuck her for always hitting him right where it aches the most. Where her unforgiving honesty settles and sticks and makes something warm spread in his chest.

   "I know he loves you. And, as dreadful as the thought is because you two are going to be the worst couple ever, I hate to see you both suffer over nothing. Just talk to him. Tell him how you feel."

She pulls him into a hug, holds him tight while he lets his tears fall unrestrained. It's relieving but scary, because she is right.

   "Hey, uh, everything okay?" Eddie's voice suddenly breaks through the silence, startling them apart.

   "Glad you're here," Robin says, "Steve's got something to tell you." And with that, she leaves, a big grin on her face that only grows wider when Steve huffs out a wet laugh, mouthing 'I hate you' at her.

   "Stevie, are you okay? Have you been crying? What's wrong?"

Steve melts at the softness of Eddie's words, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

   "I- I think I'm in love with you, Eddie."

After a moment of silence, Eddie's lips curl into a smile.

   "Oh, well. If you're sure, let me know. I've been dying to finally kiss your pretty mouth.”

[ageofevermore]

UNDER THE MISTLETOE

SUMMARY — when you believe your girlfriends to be dead, the last thing you want to do is celebrate christmas without them. and when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home, oh baby, baby merry christmas

Christmas had never felt so lonely. Your favorite time of year had never felt so despondent. You used to love the scent of fresh pine as it melted into the air and made the entire house smell like winter, but now it made you queasy. You used to bask in the sight of mistletoe hanging from door frames, waiting beneath it for the lips of your lovers to find their way home and encapsulate you in a picturesque snow globe moment, but now the very sight of it made you dizzy and clammy and sick. You avoided the holly and ribbon that decorated banisters and you threw away the gingerbread cookies somebody had left sitting on the kitchen counters. You had never felt so disconnected from the jouissance of December 25th, but you had also never lost all connection to your girlfriends who were off risking their lives for the greater good.

Seventeen days. It had been seventeen days since their comms went offline and nobody had heard a single word from them since. Everyone was somber, everyone felt hopeless, but nobody was as affected by the loss as you. You couldn’t find it within yourself to roll out of bed, or to mingle with your friends who were thankfully alive and well but Tony and Pepper still sang Christmas carols as they made dinner, and Bucky and Steve still watched old movies on the couch while reminiscing about the holidays in the forties, and Sam and Rhodey still decorated the tree with candy canes and popcorn garland because they believed that everything would turn out alright in the end. They believed Wanda and Natasha would find their way home, but you had never gotten so lucky. You had never gotten back the things that you lost.

You always told them that if anything were to happen, it would destroy you. You always told them that they were your entire world; your entire purpose. They never believed you. They always thought you were stronger than you were. They always saw the best parts of you, even when all you saw were shattered edges and a broken heart. Now they were thousands of miles away in a snow covered little town, and you were all alone in one of the most beautiful cities in the world barely clinging onto hope. Were they still alive? Were their bodies still warm and soft and careful? Were they still together, unaware of the fact that everyone back home was holding their breath expecting the worst? For seventeen days, all you managed to do was think about the worst. Afterall, nothing good ever happened to you. You were the harbinger of death, even if they tried so hard to change your mind.

When Steve knocked on your door, you let him think you were asleep. You let him stand outside on his own with a plate of decorated sugar cookies, trying his damndest to keep you afloat in the center of this storm that shattered your once stable ground. “It's Wanda and Natasha. They’ll be alright.” He was so certain, so hopeful. You hated him just as much as you hated the sparkling lights that Tony hung up outside. Even with your bedroom lights off and the curtains drawn, those red and green lights still brightened up your bedroom. Even with the comforter over your head, you could still see their faces as they boarded the quinjet thinking they’d be home in only a couple of days.

The winter months had brought inches of snow to upstate New York, covering the frozen ground in fresh white powder that crunched beneath even the gentlest of footsteps. Your heavy coat and fiery red knit mittens could only keep out so much of the brutal cold that made even Tony’s teeth chatter as he watched from the patio near the landing strip, but you couldn’t feel anything besides heat as you hugged Natasha around the neck and let Wanda’s wandering hands hold your waist.

“It’s Christmas. Do they really need you for an intel mission? I thought that was Maria’s job.” You mumbled petulantly into Natasha’s neck, not intending on letting go anytime soon. She knew that, Wanda knew it just as well. The redhead's hug was familiar, homely – but nothing you said could get her to stay. She had a ledger to wipe out, and no matter what light you saw her in, she’d always believe her hands were stained with red and it was her responsibility to do everything she could to right her wrongs. The wrongs she’d never had a conscious choice in, but still haunted her in the middle of the night when she was most vulnerable.

“Maria deserves one Christmas to herself, detka.” Natasha wistfully kissed your head, smoothing back the baby hairs that whipped around in the harsh winter wind and fell in front of your eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered against your hot skin, but the embrace was fleeting as she pulled away and straightened out the wrinkles in her stealth suit. The snow made crinkling sounds as she took a step back, and let you have a moment with Wanda, hating the way her nose burned and her eyes watered as their departure time grew closer and closer. After everything that happened, the chitauri and Loki and Thanos and Dreykov, she never thought saying goodbye to you would be the hardest thing she had to do.

“Why do both of you need to go?” You whispered to Wanda, letting her pull you in close to her heart when she saw that your shoulders began to tremble and your hands blindly reached out for Natasha, desperately wishing you got just one chance to be a normal couple. They wished the same, but there was nothing any of you could do about the fate of the world resting in the hands of the Avengers. That would never change, even if all you wanted was to be normal citizens for one Christmas season.

“We’ll be back soon. I promise.” Wanda kissed your lips so softly, you could barely feel her against you. Your covered hands did their best to cling to her, but she was stronger, and with sadness in her deep green eyes she forced herself away from you with one last gentle kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You sniffled, letting yourself fall into Natasha one last time before she boarded the jet behind Wanda. “Be safe, please.”

“Always am. I love you, don’t give Tony too much grief.” She knew how you could get when they were both away on a mission together, especially so close to your favorite holiday, but it was only a six day mission, she was sure you could handle that. Six days and they would be back in one piece, ready to decorate the tree and hide presents in every nook and cranny of the compound that they could think of.

“I can’t make any promises if he insists on putting up the Iron Man inflatable again.” Despite the sadness in your heart, you manage to crack a joke that has Natasha smiling. You love the way she smiles and how her eyes light up like Christmas lights, but it’s over too soon, and before you can find a reason for them to stay, the quinjet is taking off and your entire heart is flying away into a battlezone.

The bedroom you’re supposed to share with Wanda and Natasha is the only space in the compound left untouched by Christmas, and you’re eternally grateful for the lack of reminders that tonight's Christmas Eve, and your heart isn’t with you. The empty pit in the bottom of your stomach feels like it’s only growing bigger the longer you go on without any confirmation that they’re okay. You can’t stomach the optimistic banter that fills the common room when you're around, and how your friends hold onto hope that they’ll find a way home like Christmas miracles are something you deserve. You know the truth, you’ve seen the truth too many times to believe in such fairytales, and despite their luck at evading death, your girlfriends aren’t invincible. They’re human, just like you. They’re breakable and they’re killable and at the end of the day there’s only so much that they can take until they crumble. You wish that their teammates would remember that. You wish the world would remember that Earth’s mightiest heroes have families too.

There’s another knock on your door all too soon, but unlike Steve’s, it’s not as passive, and whoever’s so desperate for your attention doesn’t relent even after you make no sounds to indicate that you’re awake or even alive. You haven’t used your voice in days, having had no reason to as you’ve avoided everybody to the best of your abilities, but somehow you manage to find the strength to send them away, but even that doesn’t dissuade the persistent person outside of your door who only knocks louder and more urgently. It’s enough to make you want to cry, just wanting to be left alone, but nothing ever goes your way.

With light footsteps, you throw your bedroom door open, glaring up at whoever decided they needed your company. Tony’s bashful expression doesn’t melt your anger the way you hope, and impatiently you wait for his explanation with your arms folded across your chest. You’re wearing one of Wanda’s shirts, drowning in the oversized t-shirt that was one of the first she’d ever had after moving in. It smelled like her when you put it on, but six days is a long time, and now the only thing that clings to it is your tears. Natasha’s pajama shorts are tied around your hips, two sizes too big but the only comfort you’ve had throughout this entire experience. They’re a deep shade of red like her hair and the softest shorts you’ve ever felt, but nothing is softer than the way her hands grip at your skin in the middle of the night when she needs you close. Nothing will ever be as comforting as having them in bed beside you.

“It’s Christmas Eve.” Tony states the obvious, scratching at the stubble growing out of his chin that he hasn’t bothered to shave away. Pepper doesn’t mind the scruff, but your heart aches knowing that Natasha would’ve had some kind of comment about his graying features.

“No shit.” Your response is dry, and your voice is hoarse, but you can’t find it within yourself to tolerate his intrusion to your depressing quiet that is just barely keeping you together. “Did you need something?”

“Pepper thought you’d want to join us for a movie. Just one.” The sincerity in Tony’s voice is a rarity that only a few lucky people get to experience, but you can’t find it within yourself to give him the time of day. He’ll never know what this feeling is like, and for some reason that only makes you angry as your eyes slit into daggers.

“No, thanks.” You’re about to slam the door in his face when you hear a commotion out in the common room and Maria anxiously calling your name, the echo traveling down the festive hallway that makes you want to throw up. There are wreaths on every door, and in the center of the hallway is a red-berry stock of mistletoe, taunting your lonely lips that haven’t felt the kiss of your girlfriends in almost three weeks.

Almost too quiet to make out, Maria’s voice is shrill as the commotion in the common room only amplifies, but what followed wasn’t anything you would’ve expected to hear after seventeen days in the dark, but the second your brain processes what Bucky shouts, you’re fleeting to the source in seconds, side stepping Tony and practically tripping over yourself with an evident lack of grace as your limbs fly around wildly. “The comms are online!” Bucky’s words repeated over and over again in the front of your head like that godforsaken Christmas carol Tony had been singing all day, but everything became quiet the second static crackled out from the speakers of the laptop Maria was feverishly typing on, trying to secure the line Wanda and Natasha were supposedly on the other side of.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to look at anyone besides Maria as you all gathered around the couch and watched the woman work at a pace you’d never thought was imaginable. Your tired eyes bore into her soul despite her fixation point being the laptop screen, but you knew she could feel your desperation. Your entire body was crying out to have some relief, to be told that this was real, that somewhere out there, Wanda and Natasha weren’t separated and alone, that they were alive and ready to come back home just in time for Christmas. Nothing good ever happened to you, but they had, and you couldn’t afford to lose them now. Not when you had come so far to fix what had been broken a million little times over.

“Nat!” Maria shrieked when the static cracked and the faintest hint of a voice filled the silent room, so still that you’d know if a pin dropped and hit the hardwood floors. Another whirl of static almost deafened Steve and Bucky, but Maria was quick to adjust the frequencies and bring the voices of your girlfriend home, even if their bodies were five thousand miles away. “Nat! Maximoff! Can you hear me?”

With hardly any patience left in your agonizingly numb body, you reached for the laptop with the little strength you could manage, feeling your knees tremble the longer you stood on your own two feet. Maybe it was the lack of food and water, maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was just the sheer exhaustion you felt both mentally and physically that reduced you to nothing but a pile of bones and skin. Whatever was the culprit, it had you feeling like the world was about to collapse around you if you didn’t hear their voices. You only had this to hold onto, you couldn’t bear to see it get taken away after all these days.

“Nat.” Your voice was soft, trembling and hoarse just like it had been when you greeted Tony, but there was a thickness in it that held nothing but adoration for the redheaded woman that so bravely risked her life over and over again. “Natty, can you hear me?”

The static cracked again, and just when you were about to lose hope, just when you were about to chuck the laptop across the room and drown yourself in a bottle of whiskey, that silky voice you loved so much cut through the static and called out to you. “I can. Clear the land-” The static broke apart her words, it filled the room with a horribly deafening sound, but all that filtered through your mind was that they were alive. They were alive and they sounded okay. That was all you could ask for.

“Nat. Nat. Hello?” You bellowed, keeping the laptop away from your face knowing that it always sounded clearer from a distance. “Wanda?��

“H-h-home.” That was all you could make out before the signal was lost completely and the connection died again, but unlike before, your world didn’t feel so dull. There was an energy in your veins that hadn’t been there before, and with reluctance, you handed the laptop back to Maria bearing a smile nobody had seen in almost three weeks.

With the news of your girlfriends coming home, you finally took in the sight of the common room. You had missed all the little things that Tony had added this year, so stuck in your head on the few occasions that you ventured around the compound. There were the typical Christmas decorations that he pulled out from storage every December, like the fake snow on top of the mantle and the customized stockings with all of your names embroidered on the top, the ten foot tree that was adorned in warm yellow lights, and the annoying train that circled the tree on a loop, but there were little nutcrackers all in the Avengers costumes on the mantle as well, and a picture you’d never seen before of all of you together last Christmas, smiling and laughing and looking so at peace, it almost felt like a normal family celebration had you overlooked the cuts and scrapes on Sam’s cheeks.

Your girls were coming home. Maybe Christmas miracles did happen.

⋆*:･ִ ࣪🎄ೃ࿔

A snowstorm had drifted toward upstate New York in the hours you spent waiting by the door for Wanda and Natasha, curled up into yourself just trying to keep warm as snowflakes turned the frozen ground white just like it had on the day of their departure. Something about it was sweet, but another part of you dreaded the sight of fresh powder like even the thought of it would make this entire nightmare start over again. Stubbornly, you’d decided to wait by the window for the quinjet to arrive, not wanting to miss their arrival by any means, but the mug of hot chocolate you’d made to keep your insides warm had gone cold in minutes and as the harsh wind blew in, your porcelain skin became raw and red. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago, not wanting to impede on your intimate reunion with the two women who you yearned for desperately. You appreciated the sentiment behind their actions, but the loneliness that had crept into your bones was only amplifying as the minutes ticked by so agonizingly slow. It was almost three in the morning when the first flickers of light came from off in the distance, followed by the unmistakable sound of a plane landing in the backyard. Bolting from the common room and leaving your snowman mug of cold chocolate on the side table to rest, you shoved the patio doors open with little regard for how you might snap the hinges, racing to see your girls emerge from the quinjet in one piece. Your naked legs weren’t protected from the cold, and your sock clad feet grew wet in seconds as they stomped over the snow, but you couldn’t even begin to register the feelings as you looked expectantly at the large black and sleek airplane.

When the gate began to lower to the ground, and wisps of red hair became visible in the darkness of nightfall, you wasted not a single second before you raced into their company and threw your arms around the first woman you could reach with all of your might. It was Wanda that earned your embrace, and the Sokovian woman returned your hug with the same intensity, her nimble fingers running through your hair and working apart all the knots and tangles that had formed over days of being left unbrushed. You wailed into Wanda’s chest with little grace, throwing your dignity somewhere out into the snow without care of who was watching from their bedroom windows. As you fisted the neckline of her stealth suit and dug your nose into the warmest crevice of her neck, your eyes searched for your second lover who was only inches behind your entangled bodies.

“N-Never do that again.” You sobbed desperately, reaching a trembling hand out for Natasha to hold, wanting to feel the both of them against you. “Promise me you’ll never do that again!”

Deep down, you knew that was something they couldn’t promise. No matter how much it would mean to you to never have to sit alone in the dark wondering if they were even alive, this was the only thing they knew outside of your love. This was the only thing that helped them sleep at night. It would be cruel to ask them to give up the one outlet they had for all of the trauma and pain they kept inside. You could never ask them to give this job up, not until they were ready to do it for themselves, but for tonight, beneath the stars and the sunflakes, they agreed.

“I missed you so much.” Wanda admitted as she laid innocent kisses to the cold skin of your neck, her warm body doing its best to keep yours from freezing as you shivered in the cold in only a thin pair of shorts. Her wandering hands found a home on the back of your thighs, and she smoothed her palms over your skin until they didn’t feel so cold anymore, but she could only help so much as the snow came down around you like a shaken snow globe. “Let’s get you inside, moya lyubov.” Her voice was thin as it carried through the open field, just loud enough for you to hear her, but it still made your heart skip a beat after so many days of painful silence.

Reaching a hand out for Natasha to hold, you linked your frozen fingers with the redhead and let your other girlfriend lead the way inside, leaving the quinjet to be dealt with at a later date, preferably by somebody else. They knew you wouldn’t be letting them out of your sight for the foreseeable future, and selfishly they didn’t mind your clingy behavior that always reared it’s head after a mission. Your girls yearned to feel wanted, to feel like they truly belonged after so many years of being treated like they were replaceable. You gave them everything they never thought they would have, and even after six years together they questioned what they did to deserve you or each other. You were all alike in that way, always willing to shell out comfort and reassurances but unable to internalize for yourself to believe. One day, the three of you would believe that you deserved to be happy, but for right now, you had each other to lean on.

When you made it back into the compound and Natasha closed the patio doors behind you, the scent of pine and cinnamon hit you in the face like a brick. For the first time in eighteen days the lingering essence of Christmas didn’t make you queasy. The kitchen was dimly lit with electric candles, ribbons and bows hung on every cabinet door like a Hallmark card, and in the center of the island were gingerbread houses Tony and Steve had spent hours competing over, decorated with stale vanilla icing and crushed up candy canes. The warmth from the furnace circled around your trembling body in a tight embrace, making your skin burn as it was forced to adjust to the rise in temperature in only seconds, but you welcomed it with a light heart and gleeful eyes.

“I felt so lost without you.” You whispered, leaning back into Natasha’s chest, letting her arms slink around your waist and keep you close to her despite her desperate need to shower and slip into comfortable clothes. You didn’t mind the weapons digging into your back, or how she smelt of sweat and blood, just glad to have her back home for your favorite day of the year. “I meant it when I said I wouldn’t be able to handle anything bad ever happening to you. I know this is your job, but it doesn’t scare me any less when shit like this happens. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t afford to lose the only happiness I have.”

Wanda’s gentle hands cradled your face as Natasha held onto your body. They cherished your tender heart and all the broken pieces that made you the woman that they loved. “We will always come home to you. No matter what may happen, or who might come for us, you are worth fighting for.” Wanda’s red lips laid the softest kiss on the tip of your nose before Natasha was leading you down the halls and toward the bedroom, sparing a glance at the common room that illuminated a gentle glow as the Christmas tree remained lit in the farthest corner from the entryway. The fight wasn’t worth it anymore. Not when they had so much to lose. Maybe now, in snow soaked stealth suits bearing bruises and cuts and the blood of the enemy, they could finally find peace within their broken hearts to give this up.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, dorogoy.” Natasha’s husky voice sent shivers up your spine as Wanda closed your bedroom door gently, not wanting to disturb the rest of the compound anymore than you already had. Natasha’s fingers worked at pulling your shorts off, and then your top, discarding them on the floor to be dealt with later. Wanda didn’t need to be asked to grab you a change of clothes, already scouring through the closet until she found the matching pajamas you’d ordered a month ago. Two days ago, you laid in bed alone, staring angrily into the dark closet wishing you’d never even ordered them. You hated the reminder of what you didn’t have, of what you might never have again, but in this moment, you knew it was the right call. As Natasha laid kisses from the lobe of your ear, down your neck, and past the blades of your shoulders that were tense from nights of restless sleep, you knew you didn't regret a single thing that led up to this moment.

Wanda was the first to get changed, slipping into the red and white checkered pajamas set with ease and leaving her stealth suit in a ball on the floor to be dealt with later. Her callused hands replaced Natasha’s on your bare waist when the older redhead peeled away to change her clothes, you melted into her rough hands, sighing in content when she began to work out the knots in your back and shoulder blades. “Did I ever tell you your fingers are magical?” You practically moaned when she hit a sensitive spot between your shoulder blades, wincing away from her touch before you sank back in. She giggled, letting her lips dance across your neck softly.

“Once or twice.” She teased, but just as quickly as she coaxed you into her grip, she was pulling away and helping you get dressed, only pausing when her green eyes caught sight of something hanging from the ceiling. With your shirt halfway over your head and your shorts hanging off your waist yet to be tied, your eyebrows furrowed as she twisted in her grip and looked at her.

“What?” You asked breathlessly, letting your fingers dance along her cheekbones. The bed rustled as Natasha climbed in, and seconds later you heard her beautiful laugh as she looked up toward the ceiling.

“Look up.” She hummed, and Wanda took that as an invitation to settle a finger beneath your chin and tilt your head upward toward the ceiling. Despite the lack of Christmas in your bedroom, one single stock of mistletoe hung from a string, hardly visible in the darkness of midnight that engulfed you like a warm blanket after days of feeling like a punishment.

“Mistletoe.” You mused gently, letting your lips crash against hers in a passionate embrace that you had so desperately longed for. Climbing into bed to share the same passion with Natasha, your forehead rested against hers heavily as you panted for breath. “Remind me to thank Tony later.”

Your girlfriends laughed as you settled into bed, four arms hanging off of your body as you were sandwiched in the middle, finally at peace after three weeks of agony. “Merry Christmas.” You whispered into the dark as sleep took over.

Wanda kissed the back of your head and Natasha kissed your hand, both entirely content with this simple little moment that was entirely deserved. “Merry Christmas, detka.”

[hihhasotherfixations]

Can you make a Drabble of reader telling price she has a teen from a previous relationship and the teen doesn’t trust price with their mom.

Why of course UwU Hope it came out like you wanted!

CW: fem!reader, no further warnings

Word Count: 1825

Dating in his late thirties wasn’t a thing Price was used to. Nor was it something he ever expected to happen. But you? You turned his world upside down.

It had been a casual thing. Price and you, both a little unsure, seeing each other every other week. Sure, deployments sometimes got in the way, but it was consistent. It was nice.

But casual slowly started to change to something more. And now, you had invited him to your house. For dinner, and to come meet your son.

Price knew of your previous relationship and divorce, the two of you had spent several nights at dinner tables bashing the things your ex did - much to both of your enjoyment. So he knew about your son. He was fifteen now, right around that age where everything parents do are wrong and unjust.

But you had explained your son was not like that. He was kind, a complete mama’s boy. He was your rock and your life and everything Price heard about him made him gain an appreciation for the kid.

Surely if he was like that, meeting him wouldn’t be a problem, right?

Well, that was the attitude he’d went into this dinner with. And he was sorely regretting not preparing more thoroughly now.

He’d been called away on a mission last minute, getting back into the country literally an hour before he had to be at your house.

So now here he sat, hair still damp from his quick shower, clothes the fastest thing he could find - a crumpled dress-shirt stuffed into maroon pants - and an overall flustered look to him.

After all, he just flew across the continent twice within 38 hours.

He’d tried to be casual, tried to introduce himself well to the kid. You seemed to approve of everything he’d said. But judging from the scrutinising stare down he was currently getting, your son didn’t think the same.

“So… Do you know what you wanna study after high school?” Price asked, trying to keep the conversation afloat, but it’d felt like a sinking ship for the last twenty minutes.

In response, the boy just shrugged and Price hummed, rolling the pasta on his plate with his fork a bit, trying to think of anything to say.

“Lew.” You sighed at your son.

“What?” He huffed back, twirling the salt shaker on the table. “It’s a stupid question. I don’t know yet. Of course I don’t.”

At that, Price watched as you turned a little more stern, looking at the kid. “Then you can say that politely. Come now, John tried his very best to be here today.”

Glancing at you, Lewis scoffed, giving Price a brief glare that made the military captain tilt his head in both confusion and intrigue. After all, he did nothing wrong as far as he knew.

“Sorry to have brought uncertainty.” He decided to speak up, getting the teen’s attention. “It’s sometimes a bit dodgy with my line of work.”

What was supposed to be a lighthearted comment meant to shed light, instead caused Lewis to glare at Price, slamming his fork down “You gonna leave my mom behind too then?” He spat and you gasped.

“Young man, that’s quite enough!” You started but Price then held up his hand.

“I get it, Lewis.” The man sighed. “Trust me I do. It’s been something your mother and I have talked about a lot.” He started, clasping his hands together in front of himself, elbows on the table as he put his thoughts into words. “My work is… well, shifty.” He sighed. “I’m not a fan of it, but it is what it is. I can’t guarantee that I’ll always be around, that I won’t ever disappear with minimum notice.”

Lewis’ jaw clenched as he listened. But Price kept going, because the kid was fifteen, and he didn’t feel like sugarcoating it. He was smart and old enough.

“But I can guarantee this: I will always keep your mother - and if you wish, you - in the loop. I won’t just leave. I’m not that kind of man.”

Crossing his arms, Lewis leaned back in his chair. “What kind of man are you then? Military big shot?”

Chuckling a little at that, Price looked at the boy. “Tell me this, do you trust your mom?” He motioned to you at that and, confused, Lewis nodded.

“Of course, why?”

“Then trust her that she won’t date some pompous asshole who can’t see beyond his own rank.”

Pursing his lips, Lewis had nothing to say to that, grumpily looking down at his plate instead.

“Kid-“

“Don’t call me that!” He snapped and John shut up. Almost instinctively, his military commander side wanted to rear up, scold him for yelling at his senior, but he restrained himself, instead looking at the angry teen. “You can’t just barge in here, into mom’s life, and expect me to take it laying down!”

Hearing that, you leaned forward onto the table. “Lewis, we’ve talked about this. You agreed to this dinner, you cannot act like this!”

A frown was on your face, almost borderline angry - something John hadn’t ever seen before.

But Lewis didn’t budge, now looking at you. “I won’t stop, mom! It’s obvious, I mean look at him!” He angrily gestured to the brunet, making John’s brows furrow.

“What about him?”

“Don’t make me say it out loud!”

“Lewis.” Your voice was hard and concise.

“He’s not good enough for you!” Lewis then yelled, a silence immediately falling.

Hearing it, Price clenched his jaws, a tightness forming in his chest as he then looked over to you. You held a frown, looking at your son.

“Lew…”

“I’m not hungry.” Without another word, the boy shoved his plate away and got up, storming off.

Speechless, you went to open your mouth, to get up to chase after him, but Price stopped you by placing his hand over yours, his eyes calm, hiding the hurt as he just looked at you.

“Just let him go. Speaking from experience, it’s best to let him cool off and gather his thoughts.”

Conflicted, you looked at him. “I- I don’t get why he’s being like this…” You said softly and John squeezed your hand, a loaded sigh leaving him.

“It’s a big change for him. You can’t blame the boy.” He said, pulling his hand back as he glanced to where Lewis left. “Admittedly, I didn’t think it would go like this. But I also didn’t think he’d accept me into the dynamic instantly. Just don’t take his words to heart right now.” The captain spoke, turning his head back to face you as he then gave you a kind, little smile, the lines around his eyes crinkling gently.

Sighing, you nodded as you placed your head in your hands.

“Dinner’s great, by the way.”

At his sudden comment, you let out a startled little laugh that made John’s heart flutter.

- - - -

Sitting on your porch with a cigar, Price looked out at the night sky. After he stormed off, neither you nor him had seen any sign of Lewis. It truly did put a damper on the evening.

Smoke gently exited Price’s mouth before being picked up by the wind and blown away.

Behind him, the door then opened and he glanced back, his eyes widening a bit as he saw Lewis standing there, a sour expression on his face as he kept his eyes firmly to the ground.

“Hey.” He muttered and Price took the cigar out of his mouth.

“Hi.” He replied, analysing the teen. He didn’t seem entirely thrilled to be here, possibly sent out here by you. It made the captain want to scoff a chuckle. But he didn’t and instead patted the spot beside him where he sat on the stairs of the porch. “Wanna sit?”

“I don’t like-“

“I’ll put it out.” John shushed, holding the cigar away a little. It made Lewis look up, however.

“Aren’t those crazy expensive?”

Chuckling a little, Price crossed his ankle over his knee, pushing the cigar into the underside of his boot. “Yep. But that’s okay.”

Tentatively, Lewis walked over, sitting down besides the man.

“I have to… say sorry. For what I said.” He mumbled and John turned his head, a kinder look on his face, almost serene.

“By your mother?”

Pursing his lips, Lewis turned to look at Price, only to see an amused twinkle in the older man’s eye.

“Maybe.” He instead grumpily mumbled and John just huffed in amusement, turning to look forward as he leaned his elbows on his knees, absentmindedly starting to twirl the extinguished cigar in his hands.

“I get it, Lewis.” He started, his eyes focused on the night sky and his voice soft - almost as if he didn’t want to break the serenity of the night. “Your mom? She’s a wonderful woman. Kind, generous, sweet.” Looking down, Price then focused on his cigar. “You probably don’t want to hear this, but I really like her. And I think she likes me too. I hope so, at least.” With that, he turned his head to the teen.

Lewis was looking at him, a conflicted expression on his face.

“I don’t want to come in here to play family, kid. I’m not your dad and I won’t pretend to be.” He said and then glanced at the door. “I just want to give her what she deserves.” He nudged his head towards the house.

“What I said about you not being good enough…” Lewis mumbled and John sighed, now turning to face the teen.

“Don’t bother. Honestly, you may be right.” He hummed, leaning his head back into the porch railing. “I won’t say I’m a perfect man. Far from it. But what I said at the table is true. I will always try to do right by her. And you too - if you’ll let me.”

Contemplating, Lewis looked out from the porch.

“Why mom?” He said after a moment and Price looked at him.

“Because she’s the first one in a long time to give me a chance. Despite my job and what I’ve done.”

At that, the teen angled his head, taking the brunet beside him in. “Really? What have you done?” He asked, a hint of a smile on his face.

Seeing it, Price huffed a chuckle, pocketing the dud cigar. “That’s classified, I’m afraid.”

“Lame.” Lewis scoffed, but there was no animosity in it and Price smiled to himself.

“Tell you what.” He said, sitting upright and looking at the boy. “You give me a chance and I might tell you some stories.” He held out his hand.

Looking at it, Lewis seemed skeptical at first, glancing at the peace offering. But then he sighed and reached out, shaking hands.

“If you hurt my mom I will kick your ass.”

Laughing, John slapped the kid on the shoulder. “If I do, I’ll let you.”

[mo0nfairy]

Ughhhh I neeeeeed part 3 of our guard puppy leon😭😭😭

That was so so good.

Like are you an angel??? How can you write so beautifully??

part 1. part 2. part 4.

tw :: re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, guns, explosions, being knocked out, parasites, some obsessive!ashley too.

⸺ eeeek !! ur too sweet! i've been having lots and lots of thoughts about this batshit-insane puppy dog. so, ask and you shall receive ~~

through trial and error (and leon's incessant suggestions to just go home together. you disagree with his suggestion and he can never say no to you, after all), you find ashley hiding in the church. and the immediate liking she takes to you is bridging on the cusp of creepy. what's even creepier is your guard-dog's reaction to such. you appreciate the sweetness the two have for you and how it helps keep you afloat in this absolute hellhole, but something still stalks in the back of your head...

you can't trust leon. you have no idea why, but with every ledge he helps you over or with every drop he catches you from, there is that looming shadow that lurks within you. it's a sense of dread that hangs heavy in your stomach, almost like hanging over the hill of a rollercoaster. there's alarms that blare whenever he gets too close, all that seem to be warning you to get as far away from this man as you can. and for why, you cannot tell. he is kind-hearted, brave, and has saved you from practically every abomination known on planet earth. so, why don't you trust him?

maybe it's the look in his eye. how his gaze for you is practically seeping with sunshine, but whenever he looks at the squeaky mouse on your hip, there's an uncanny shift towards something much darker. (ashley breathes within a mile radius of you and leon literally becomes the gif ^^). his perceptible distaste towards her goes further than his expressive eyes, unfortunately. it's "accidentally" dropping her when she jumps from the ledge, stifling a laugh at her pain only to immediately go red with rage when you help her from the ground. "falling over" and nearly knocking ashley head-first off a ledge; tending to a splinter you got while she tries to avoid being kidnapped by literally 73 los ganados.

ashley's dislike towards the man her father sent to retrieve her is perceptible, too. and her liking to you is even more evident. she'll cower in your embrace when leon shoots his gun a little too close to her ear, smirking at him over your shoulder when she sees how enraged it makes him. she'll interlock your fingers with hers due to being “afraid,” outright refusing to let go from thereon out; she'll ramble about her awesome life as the president's daughter, how astonishing she finds you to be, and how many riches she has (and how she can provide for you *cough, cough*). it's all so bewildering — you have all somehow managed to survive countless near-death experiences and yet, both of them are nothing but daisies and rainbows when your attention is on them.

most importantly, it is so fucking overwhelming. you wonder if their suffocating clinginess is the worst thing you'll actually face in this hellhole.

you're so caught up in avoiding the affections of these two and surviving in the process, you almost completely forget about your memory loss. you have history with this man, whomever he may be. and during trips to the merchant and the shooting range, you think he'll enlighten you on these forgotten pieces while you take a second to breathe. but, he never does. he either glares daggers into the girl at your hip or thoroughly checks your body for wounds you fruitlessly assure him don't exist. so, you guess you only have yourself and your goldfish-like memory to rely on.

all you can remember is his sweet soul, baby-face, and, rather, unconventional displays of affection. and you assume that this is how far the iceberg goes. just you and this lovesick boy in raccoon city. together. but oh, how wrong you were.

the three of you later find yourselves in the amber storeroom. you trace your fingers upon the crevices of the large hunk of amber in front of you, watching in disgust as the parasites within squirm like dying cockroaches. the topic of escaping this nightmare soon arose. you want to make it to luis' laboratory for the purpose of curing ashley of her infection, despite having to separate for a short period of time to retrieve the proper materials. leon just wants to get himself and you out of here, to where you'll live happily ever after in each other's arms.

"it's not too to turn back, you know. if we make it to the lab, we can save ashley, leon. we'll only have to seperate for a second, it's no biggie!" your suggestion falls on deaf ears, much to your dismay.

"not a chance. you're stuck with me to the end." you feel your heart drop at leon's response. the saying unlocks something within you, something you knew you never wanted to come out. it hits you like a train; dread permeates your entire being. you're stuck with me to the end.

an unfamiliar voice then fills the room. before you even have a picosecond to process the additional presence and leon's previous statement, you feel his hand on your arm, to where you're then swung behind him. you see the saddler from your stance over leon's shoulder, giving his whole villain monologue. you managed to derive only one piece on information from the cloaked creature before you: we are all fucked.

black veins travel up the neck of the blonde in front of you. he then falls to his knees, gun clattering onto the floor. ink-black strings spread upon ashley's face, the white of her eyes morphing into a sinister red. the color stiffly frames the green hue of her irises. sobs rack through her body; you hear a whimper of your name escape her mouth. an unseen force causes her to bend down and grasp hold of the gun, the atmosphere overwhelmingly intense. and as if she were a doll, the force pushes each foot in front of the other. closer to you.

you take a cautious step away from her, only to feel your back hit a surface. you turn to meet the chest of someone adorned head-to-toe in white cloth, ragged ropes tied around their waist and neck. their purple, ghastly hand the clutches onto your wrist like a lifeline, the pain causing you to hiss in response. you try and pull away with all of your might, but their inhuman abilities overpower your own. before your bones can crack beneath the sheer force of their strength, a gunshot permeates. your ears ring, thus using your eyes to identify the sudden intrusion of sound. the figure before you is now adorned in blood as it cascades down their once-white cloak. ashley persevered and fought through the infection seeping through her veins to save your life, but you’re too busy staring at the scene before you to realize.

"no... please! please, don't make me!" the force of the saddler returns, however. and the devastated voice of ashley only comes out in a quiet hum, with your hearing still disoriented from the gunshot.

this leaves you here, where you never thought you'd be. while you're gaze is locked on the body ashley brutalized, you're taken by surprise when you feel your body whipped around completely. her arm snakes around your neck as if you were prey, the other pressing the cold surface of the gun's barrel to your temple. you thrash and fight, but your efforts are merely pathetic in comparison to her newly supernatural power.

"we don't need another foolish lamb in our way. sweet child, do not resist!" his voice feels like a chill traveling up your spine. faint and ghostly, but all-too terrifying in the same breath.

you can feel ashley cry in your ear, begging the monster in front of you to let you both go. closing your eyes, you pray to whatever almighty being truly exists that you'll soon wake up back in your bed. then, you'll enjoy your breakfast and pantomime to your cat about the insane dream you just had. but, ashley's hyperventilated breaths still fan against your face and her grasp on you is still air-tight. as much as you wish it wasn't, this is your reality. and, inevitably, you will most likely die in the embrace of the girl you fought tooth-and-nail to save.

leon still clenches his body in agony; his gaze remaining locked to the ground beneath him. his attempts to fight against the pain with every sliver of strength in his body were futile. but, in a flare of clarity, leon is fortunately able to overcome the immense pain momentarily. his blue eyes, wide as dinner plates, frantically search around for you. and the scene he finds behind him causes his heart to sink into oblivion.

"no!" the sheer anguish in his cry is enough to grasp the attention of every presence in the room. 6 years. 6 years. he has been waiting over 2,190 miserable days to be with you. and as i stated before, like hell will he let you slip from his grasp again.

leon scrambles to his feet. but, before he can bring you into his tenacious embrace, kill everything that moves, and vow to never ever let anything like this happen to you ever again, that same force stops him within his stance. his hands halt inches from your face, so, so close, as he desperately reaches out to you. leon fights and resists, despite the agony swimming in his black-colored veins from doing such. he must get to you, no matter how much pain and suffering he must endure.

you are everything he could ever need; you are the very definition of his existence. his sobs rival those of someone overcome with grief and he is terrified of the fact that it may be him momentarily. so close to happiness, but now all alone. once again and forevermore. you can only watch in trepidation as he shakes with pure terror, muffled cries of "take me instead" and "please, anyone but them!" escaping through clenched teeth.

with the faint click of ashley's dainty finger, she pulls on the trigger. there is nothing.

silence hits the room like a tsunami. you're alive, but you don't dare let yourself hope. waiting for the other shoe to drop, it never falls. ashley's grip on you relaxes, to where you rip her arms off of you and practically throw yourself across the room. anywhere far from the insanity caused by this horrid infection. the two people you survived hell with are still under the trance, however. miserable cries protruding through the quiet; bodies shivering like someone who has been thrown into a winter lake. their eyes peer to their side, desperate to move their heads to look at you and ensure your safety.

you're still attempting to process what had just occured when you suddenly hear rumbling echoing in the distance. something soars through the sky, landing right at the feet of the saddler and his minions. chaos pervades as an explosion waves through the room, causing every piece of matter to ascend into the air, including yourself. you’re flung into the wind, where you then land harshly against the unforgiving ground. you cough into your arm in an attempt to rid your body of the smoke satiating your lungs.

"sorry, bad traffic! one combat chopper, compliments of hunnigan!" you hear the eccentric voice, the mention of hunnigan, the whirring of a helicopter and finally smile to yourself for the first time in what feels like years. help! it’s finally here!

a substance trickles down your forehead and down the expanse of your face. you bring your fingers to your skin, only to find the digits to be adorned with warm blood. following the trace, you soon realize during the pandemonium of the eruption, something had hit you square in the skull. fuck.

you hear a shout of your name before everything goes dark.

[peggyao3]

Relic - Pt. 14 "A World in a Grain of Sand"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧ Dreams are messages from the deep ✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: Third person POV, she/her AFAB FMC, explicit sexual content, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum and big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, plans within plans, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced abuse, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable/ Emotional/Possessive Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, murder, teaching the universe about feminism, female rage, Frank Herbert would frown, No actually he would kneel in front of me, putting the science and the porn in sci-fi, angst with a happy ending

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

A/N: Giving you the eyebrow 🤨 because no one seems to have picked up on a tiny, little, important detail that was to be found in the last chapter, or at least no one mentioned it 😌 Finally I can write what I really crave to write. IT'S SCIENCE TIME 💖

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist | Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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Day 31

"I have one last question, little slave," Vladimir Harkonnen drones from his afloat position, a celestial body of massive dimensions in front of the somber backdrop of his throne room, black within black with only a single glow globe illuminating the back of him. He prefers to shun the black sun these days, as glorious as it may be, it brings out the myriad of spider veins beneath his frail, aged skin.

"Yes, Lord Baron?" The unremarkable slave's voice echoes from below.

"What is this… ancient piece of metal in my dear nephew's toy's room?"

"I believe you must know more about it than I do. I assume you had it examined before it was unloaded and brought inside?"

"Naturally!" Vladimir raises his voice. The slave with her bowed head can't see the way the aged Baron squints to get a clearer picture of her. Afloat as he is, she is little more than a splotch of white against black, and an unwelcomely blurry one.

The examination had revealed a human shaped mold, cushioned with gel pads, thick tubes for coolant, a recycling system with residue nutrient solution, solar panels for energy harvesting. No traces of radiation or explosives. It almost seems like the metal box is exactly what the sisterhood had made it out to be. A hibernation chamber for a fossil from another time. However, it wouldn't be the first myth created by the Bene Gesserit.

"I know you are looking for something substantial, my Lord, and so was I," the slave speaks after the Baron's elongated pause. "But I'm afraid the truth is as embarrassing as it is mundane. I've come to believe that she keeps it close out of raw sentimentality. She's a sentimental creature, that woman."

Lilia has always loved danger and the long, twisted inkvine scar on her shoulder from girlhood days is just one proof of that. Perhaps that's why she so effortlessly serves the Baron velvet lies.

"Ah-h-h, like my Feyd-Rautha then. It doesn't surprise me," the Baron drawls, lungs expanding with a raspy heaviness to each intake of air.

In all his years as Giedi Prime's sovereign, Vladimir Harkonnen has never learned that the promise of a kind embrace outweighs the threat of violence tenfold and that a spark of human goodness can sway a servant's loyalty quicker than a snap of a whip.

"She calls it her sarcophagus," Lilia adds with a tiny scoff that doesn't go unnoticed by the Baron now that he has lowered himself and sinks back into the much more comfortable seat of his throne. The intimidation tactic has fulfilled its purpose.

He bellows. "So, she's got good humor too! A pity she's not a boy. I could have borrowed her sometimes."

The obedient set of Lilia's shoulders and her lowered gaze don't betray the noxious clench that has her stomach convulsing. Perhaps this is the only advantage of being a woman in the Harkonnen palace pyramid.

Day 45

The lack of color that had once bothered her into the throes of a slowly crawling depression is now a pleasure. The blackness of her abode has come to serve as the perfect desktop for columns of text and equations, formulations and simulations and hand-written notes that have her mouth moving and her eyeballs racing.

Her sarcophagus leeches the day's sun, side panels open to give way to rotating cooling fans. The Central Processing Unit of the computer that makes up half of the machinery inside buzzes from the strain she puts on it.

Astronaut M2-84 has finally come home and picked up the work of her own, chosen destiny.

Talking to God, Mikhail had whispered to his wife, is what the Lady is doing. But what she really does is think, read, calculate. Engineers born on the cusp of the astronautic age don't have their oily hands in tool boxes. Most of the time, they tell machines how to build other machines, and to do so, one needs to understand the laws of physics. 

This is how Feyd-Rautha finds her each night. Sometimes sunken against the cushions of her bed, or slumped over her desk, staring at the wall with dancing pupils. And other times, like tonight, she sits right by her Sarcophagus, shoulder pressed against the humming metal. She claims the connection between computer and chip is quicker this way.

Silently, Feyd's stride carries him across the room towards his precious engineer. Movement catches his attention at the right and the sight he finds causes a slow tilt of his head.

One quarter of her bed is filled out by a misshapen form, tucked under duvet and whalefur. Glugo lies prone on its stomach, limbs folded tightly against its covered body. Only one front arm-leg peaks out and cradles her plushie against its innocent pug face. Something glossy-white with small handles on each side is held in front of Glugo's mouth by tiny face-hands with liquid sloshing inside.

She has tucked Glugo in like a toddler. And, from the looks of it, she has printed it a sippy cup.

Feyd-Rautha feels all sorts of warmth filling out his chest. If because he wants to be tucked in like a toddler, or because his only friend is finally receiving the gentleness it deserves, or because of a different reason entirely, he can't tell. He raises his hand to wave at Glugo who gurgles softly in return, one tiny face-hand unlatching from the cup handle to wave back.

Glug glug glug.

"You're losing weight." Feyd approaches his beloved slowly. "I don't like it."

"One second, I'm at ninety-eight point five. Seven. Ninety-nine."

"Have you found out anything interesting today, my darling?"

He is long past asking what exactly she's doing, why they aren't simply figuring out a way to get his uncle to take his shield ring off so they can get a blade between his ribs. Or rather a sword, to pierce the obscene, fatty flesh costume he calls his body.

"Your spice—" His darling slurs with a concerning jump to her pupils.

"I don't take spice anymore." Feyd tilts his head and squats down before her, lifting his hands to cup her cheeks.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. Ah, wait, what do you mean, not anymore?" Finally, her eyes regain focus and her arms fill with tension, fingers moving up to encircle Feyd-Rautha's strong wrists.

"There's my darling," he smiles with pretty, full lips and glinting teeth, stroking her cheeks. "So, what about my spice?"

"Not your spice in particular." Her hand flings out to gesture at the universe above. "Your spice shares a few molecular compounds with the medication I took to prepare for the cryo sleep." 

Feyd-Rautha's features slip into disbelief, a fresh frown carving deep into the smooth expanse of his forehead.

"Why does this surprise you?" She wonders.

"Spice is unique to Arrakis. Power over the spice means power over everything. How could you have had spice back on Earth without sandworms?"

"First of all, spice, much like anything else, is just protons, electrons and neutrons. With the right tools, you could, in theory, synthesize any molecule."

"And you have such a tool in your Sarcophagus?" 

"No! God, no." She laughs out loud and curls her arms around Feyd-Rautha's shoulders in a much needed embrace. Her very eyeballs ache and her spine feels calcified from leaning against the sarcophagus.

To him, it must seem like the solution to just about anything might be hidden in her cryo pod or in her precious chip, but it really holds only a fragment of the technological advancements of Old Earth. The last generation before mankind had embarked to the stars was an ingenious one. They had to be, and their knowledge is safely tucked into the 80 Billion terabyte hard-drive of her supercomputer. She may not have all the tools, but the knowledge to build them — in theory.

She taps the top of the cryo pod and hums. "Building molecules from scratch is not like building houses out of toy blocks. You need to accumulate tremendous amounts of energy in a lab environment to trigger complex chemical reactions."

"You've already built a chair from scratch, and a gun. And now a sippy cup for Glugo?" He states with an incredulous rasp of his voice.

"I couldn't bear seeing it drink from dog bowls anymore. And it struggled so much with cups and glasses, Lilia had to change the sheets twice because the poor thing kept spilling everything."

"You… You are fascinating, my darling." She doesn't miss the spark of arousal that lets Feyd's eyes half disappear under a fan of long lashes. "My point still stands, you've built other things before."

"Yes, but the materials were already there, I just had them pressed into the shape I desired." Feyd tilts his head and she cradles his jaw, stroking across the plushnes of his cheeks. "Were you not taught about chemistry?" Slowly, he shakes his head. "Ah, well, I will explain it to you another time then."

Feyd slides his mouth into her palm, groaning softly. "You know so much. How is it possible that you had spice 24 millenia ago?"

"Not spice. I said my pre-cryo medication shares a few interesting enzymes with spice." She slides one palm around Feyd-Rautha's nape of the neck and softly brings their foreheads together. "My people also used to think their own civilization was the pinnacle of all that has ever been. It was unthinkable that maybe the Aztecs or Sumerians were more advanced. That's how you are too. 

   You think spice is unique to Arrakis and the technological advancements you have derived from the Holtzman effect are the peak of what is achievable, because it suits you so nicely. But human evolution has never been a linear incline. You have fascinating medicine, Gholas and space travel… But who knows, maybe my people were smarter than yours. Maybe our engineers and chemists were smarter."

"You know so much," he moans again and she knows better than to keep boring him with details. One day, when the many other fires in his heart have settled, she can stoke his interest in science. Feyd is smart. He will come to be fascinated by it. 

"This universe is devouring itself because there is no innovation," she softly murmurs. "No one dares to go further, look further, break out of the pattern. Maybe they don't want to, because the consequences scare them. Mentats only do as their Lords bid…"

When Feyd's lips close in on hers, with half-lidded eyes and a dreamy stare, her ramblings subside into grateful, blissful silence, choosing to welcome his tongue in her mouth instead.

Day 59

"Silence!"

The Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam's voice ripples in the shape of a waveform pattern across the engineer's interface, recorded many decades ago by Baron Harkonnen himself and transferred to the House archive for research purposes.

Other lines of the same encounter, she is certain, were deliberately removed. Such as when the Reverend Mother, then a young woman, had ordered the Baron to hold still so she could mount him and steal the seed out of his body that would sire the Lady Jessica.

She only knows of this story because of Feyd-Rautha, and what it had cost him to learn it, she doesn't even want to know.

"Silence!"

She can only imagine that Piter de Vries' research on the matter might have consisted to a considerable amount of snide mockery, going by Feyd's recountings of the late mentat, hence why the files were so perfectly abandoned and ready for her to pick apart.

Carefully, she separates the impressive cluster of different wavelengths that make up the audio fragment, finding portions all the way from the high-frequency to the low-frequency audible spectrum, some even so low that they are no longer perceived as sound by the human ear.

The astronaut remembers how the Reverend Mother had tested her in an archaic show of deference, forced onto her knees with her hand in a box while the older woman addressed the pain receptors in her brain via an inaudible wavelength. She may not have moved her lips, but that doesn't mean she didn't cause the air molecules to oscillate.

Technically speaking, this renders the mysteriously omnipotent sisterhood into little more than ventriloquists. That image of demystification offers at least a little comfort to the humiliation provided by the memory of searing pain in every nerve.

She reclines in her chair, swallowing against the dry itch in her throat while she strings together a few fairly simple lines of code.

Curiously, the voice doesn't affect her physiology when played from an artificial source, such as the micro speaker soldered onto her chip's tiny board.

She can only assume that by manipulation of the larynx, wielders of the voice can propel pressure waves in a way that a speaker can not. How exactly this forces the human brain into submission, the engineer cannot tell, but she doesn't need to, to tinker on some offensively simple counter magic to the Bene Gesserit's seemingly almighty tool of control.

Noise cancellation is as simple as letting a speaker emit a sound wave with the same amplitude but an inverted phase. The sound waves cancel each other out in destructive interference.

As much as this scientific victory entices her, it frustrates her endlessly that all of the side research she picks up to take her mind off the real problem bears more fruit.

"Refreshments for you, my Lady!" Lilia's voice snaps her out of her brooding thoughts. The maid slips through the door, bringing a tray of fresh fruit and the stimulating citrus drink that her Lady has come to enjoy as of late. "It's been three hours, it's time to take a break."

"Ugh, three? Felt like one." That explains the dry throat. The relic arches her spine and presses her knuckles against her closed lids until tiny flashes prickle across the dark.

Lilia's footsteps close in at her side along with four other pairs of hand-feet. She sets the tray down on the desk.

"And have you made any progress today, my Lady?"

"Not with the one thing that matters, but yes." She reaches for the pitcher but finds her hands gently shooed away by Lilia who insists on pouring the glass for her, tiny bubbles fizzing in the lemon water.

"Oooh! Have you thought about these visions, my Lady?" The handmaid's ears perk up with interest, enamored with the story of how Feyd and her Lady had gotten to know each other in dreams ever since she had indulged her.

Lilia regards the phenomenon of their getting acquainted with the eyes of a romantic. For the engineer however, this is the only topic that frustrates her more than finding a workaround for the Holtzman effect to get past the Baron's shield.

"Dreams, visions, I don't fucking know. I don't even want to think about them because they drive me fucking crazy." The engineer reaches for her glass and drinks with big gulps, making the maid flinch by how forcefully she slams it back down.

The crescent shaped scar she herself had created on Feyd's clavicle when grappling for his blade is the same that had decorated his skin in their lucid dreams. So, visions? But the topics they had discussed during their shared nights are events of the past. It defies logic, it's paradox. The thing that scares her the most, however, is the fact that the Baron's abuse was still real in those dreams. If they truly were visions of the future, does that mean her research is in vain and he will live?

There is no phenomenon that can't be explained, not even prophetic dreams. But not by her, and not yet.

"Sorry," she apologizes and rubs her temples, finding Glugo staring at her with big, milky eyes, one hand-foot clinging to Lilia's skirt. The engineer's heart softens at once and she leans towards her insecure looking friend. "Aw, I'm really sorry, I didn't want to scare you both, my poor, little— Aw!"

Glugo curls four out of its eight limbs around her calves and rests its chin on her knee, pearly eyes aimed unerringly at the pitcher of sparkling drink on the desk.

"That's citrus," she explains. "I don't think you'll like citrus…"

One of the Tleilaxu creature's oily-black hand-feet clutches the table's edge, another incessantly reaches for the glass container.

"Okay, fine, but just a tiny sip. Where's your cup?"

Glugo glugs cluelessly, looking at Lilia for help. Still, both women are uncertain if the being has any grasp on human language, or if it simply recognizes a question by the inflection of one's voice. 

The handmaid locates Glugo's cup in the folds of the duvet and quickly washes out the remnants of pink liquid over the sink in the bath before filling a finger of citrus inside. The creature's hand-feet tippy-tap on the tiles, reaching for the shiny container to take its first curious gulp.

Glugo's pug face puckers into a scrunched up grimace at once, face-hands releasing the sippy cup with an indignant noise.

Glurgh!

Day 93

It is a few weeks later, while Feyd and Mikhail are out brawling, that she figures it out.

"M'lord, I really am sorry," Mikhail laments, his flesh stripped of color as the black sun roars down on his bare torso. The na-Baron and he are prowling around each other in a tight circle, unarmed aside from their fists.

"You told me already." Feyd-Rautha's grating voice cuts through the sweltering air. The training ring's roof is retracted, giving way to blazing white skies and a heat that Giedi Prime's life forms have adapted to. "Five times. Another time, and I might just cut out your tongue."

"Ya know I had to take yer Lady to them bath chambers. Baron commanded it, and I can't just—" 

"Shut up, boy!" Feyd's boots crunch in the sandy gravel, shoulders rolling. He is stronger than Mikhail, rounded arms and pectorals contrasting a powerful, slender waist. The guard's physique is more wiry, taut muscles stretched across visible ribs. The glorious sun brings out an overabundance of gray scars.

"Boy, eh? Ain't any older than you, my Lord!" Feyd is surprised, tilting his head at the deceptive edges of the guard's features that make him look closer to 40.

"Fine, then shut up, brother!" Feyd bares his teeth and clenches his fists hard, veins rippling across his forearms. "What are the rules?" 

Mikhail's fist springs forward and punches Feyd-Rautha in the guts. He nearly doubles over, groaning in pain. Spit drips from his open mouth into the sand. 

"Rules?" The guard quips and aims his elbow for the na-Baron's nose. Feyd dodges with a semi-graceful dive to the side, taking the blow to his ear instead. He tastes blood on his tongue.

This man is bold. He has no manners. Feyd likes him. 

Mikhail is smaller, thinner, but he fights like a mongrel, like someone whose ferocious survival instincts have carried him from across the svart valta all the way to the royal palace in Barony. And Feyd struggles.

And by the black sun, he loses. Few things have ever excited him so much. After nearly an hour of grappling in the scorching heat, Feyd-Rautha finds himself on his back in the gravel, panting for dear life, ears ringing from the last punch square across his jaw. He barely hears Mikhail's voice when he praises that he had fought well, but he feels the brotherly smack on his sandy chest, right on top of a wicked bruise.

Every bone and muscle burns when he drags himself to his personal bath chambers. It was, undoubtedly, the best fight of Feyd-Rautha's life.

"Lilia! I've got it! I fucking got it, do you see this?!"

Pixelated particles give way to a bullet that cuts through them like a harpoon through water.

"What, my Lady? See what?" The maid dashes into the bedroom from the antechamber with flying skirts.

"It's so simple, I'm so stupid." The relic has jumped up from the desk, fingers twisted like claws around the back of her chair while her chest heaves with laughter and a threat of tears. Lilia, of course, cannot see the baffling results of the simulation on the engineer's interface.

The Lady lurches over to the cryo pod, leaving the tilted chair swaying and falling down on the tiles with a bang. She mutters something along the lines of 'must build it', before her voice dissolves into foreign, ancient tongues and a shiver runs down Lilia's spine. Her voice so alien, her ways so enigmatic, she truly is a relic cracked open, pouring her forbidden knowledge into the world. 

But she is also a human and Lilia feels her Lady's voice and shaking body teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown as she snaps open several compartments of the sarcophagus.

"You figured it out, that's wonderful!" This barely gets the engineer's attention, so she curls her fingers around the woman's shoulder, gently forcing her away from the compartments. The relic slumps down with her back to the sarcophagus.

"I need to build it. I know there's laser diodes in there, I only need to—"

"Please, my Lady, you need to breathe deeply. Why don't you explain it to me first?" Lilia squats in front of her, holding her wrists in her warm hands. Her Lady is trembling, her breath too shallow and fast.

"It's so simple, I could build it in an hour."

"Please, do me the favor," Lilia insists and brackets the woman's trembling knees between her own. Finally, her Lady exhales a long sigh and lets her head sink against the humming metal.

"Alright," she agrees and starts with a jittery voice. "So, you're aware of what the Holtzman effect is?"

"Ah, yes, I think so?" The maid hadn't really known the term before her Lady had started rambling about it. "Shields and heighliners?"

The one discovery that has shaped the entire human universe and kept it shackled since then, and the average commoner barely even knows its name. The relic doesn't hold it against Lilia. In a world where “eat or be eaten” takes on a literal meaning, the last thing to worry about is science. So, she wills her voice into calmness. If she's going to try and explain it, she at least wants to do it well.

"The Holtzman effect is responsible for the four major technologies that have made the world into what it is today. The first one — shields. No fast-moving object can pass through a shield, so guns like these?" She points towards her nightstand. "They've been useless for millennia. That's why you've resorted to close combat weapons."

"I was wondering why you went for a gun and not a blade." Lilia tilts her head. Close combat weapons are all that she's ever personally encountered. She knows that lasguns exist and that each Great House has an arsenal of atomic warheads, but every soldier has a sword on their hip, not a gun.

"Melee weapons seem so…" The engineer struggles to find a corresponding word in Galach. "Medieval to me. Archaic. Warfare on Earth was nothing like this."

"What was it like?" Lilia whispers in awe, noticing her Lady's shaking abate second by second.

"You could obliterate entire cities within the blink of an eye. A million different ways to set a home on fire and kill a population from a thousand miles away. It was terrible." Which is why what she has discovered is just as terrible.

The relic continues. "The other three technologies derived from the Holtzman effect are suspensors, glowglobes and space travel. You know why I was in that metal coffin here?" She taps against the sarcophagus. "Because a journey within our own solar system would take several years. You however can travel to the other side of the universe within the blink of an eye, through a quantum tunnel."

Lilia has never left the planet, but to imagine trade and travel without space-folding almost strikes her as ridiculous. All of humanity, reduced to just one, single planet. The cradle of mankind. The thought humbles her.

"And all four of these are based on one single effect?" Lilia considers herself an intelligent woman, but she doubts she can understand what took her Lady weeks to figure out.

"The essence of the Holtzman effect lies in how subatomic particles interact with each other."

"Subatomic?"

"Any type of matter is made of smaller building blocks. This metal for example is made of all kinds of molecules, which are made of atoms, and every single atom is made of protons, electrons and neutrons. These are called subatomic particles. Protons and neutrons make up the nucleus of an atom, and you can imagine the electrons orbiting the nucleus almost like planets a sun."

The handmaid quite enjoys that mental image. It's like the smallest particles exist in a cosmos of their own. "So, the Holtzman effect has something to do with protons, electrons and neutrons?" Lilia imagines, if she could have gone to school like she wanted as a girl, it may have been something like this.

"Almost. It gets even smaller. Protons and neutrons are made of quarks, tiniest quantities that cannot be divided any further. I could go into more detail and talk about quantum physics," the relic pronounces a word that is just guttural enough for Lilia to imitate without all too many struggles. "But that won't be necessary for now."

Even though her Lady has stopped shaking, Lilia doesn't want to release her wrists yet. She is glued to the engineer's lips, soaking up what sounds like forbidden knowledge, like having a peek through God's microscope.

"What is a Holtzman shield made of? What do you think?" The engineer wraps her own fingers around Lilia's slender wrists and the maid sinks from squatting on her soles to sitting down on her bum, stretching out her legs on either side of her Lady's.

"I don't know, my Lady. Uh, something that repels?"

"Yes, that's right," she nods encouragingly. "There are several forces in the universe that attract and repel. The most well-known force of attraction is gravity. And electro-magnetism— Opposite poles attract, equal poles repel each other. But there are other forces that work on a subatomic level."

The engineer pauses without urging her and Lilia takes a moment to think.

"I'm guessing there's a subatomic force that keeps these, uh, nuclei together? The protons and neutrons? Because if not, everything would just be falling apart?"

It almost frightens her to imagine what her very own body must look like on its deepest level. A cluster of tiniest quantities, held together by forces as invisible as her Lady's interface.

"That's perfectly true!" The woman from Old Earth beams, fingers clenching around Lilia's wrists. "The force responsible for that is called the strong nuclear force. On an even smaller scale, the strong force holds together the quarks that make up the neutrons and protons, but you already said it just right."

Warmth fills out the handmaid's chest and she slowly begins to understand the feeling that had her Lady nearly panicking earlier. Her own heart drums against her ribs quick and hard.

"Okay, so now what about the Holtzman shield and how can you get past it?"

"For that, we also need to take the other subatomic force into consideration. It's called the weak force. Isn't that creative? Despite its name, the weak force is technically stronger than gravity, but it is only effective at very short distances and it can change one quark type into another. What do you think happens when such a change occurs?"

"Hmmm," the Harkonnen woman ponders. She doesn't want to disappoint her Lady who is putting so much effort into her explanation. "If quarks are the smallest quantities that make up anything, I suppose when something changes on the lowest level, this change translates to the highest level as well?"

"You're a natural, Lilia." Upon that, the maid blushes purple and finally releases the relic's wrist in a sudden burst of shyness. "Such a change can turn one element into another. It happens all the time, in every sun. And also in radioactive decay. This is important."

"How so?"

"Imagine if that radioactive decay was amplified. Imagine throwing a huge amount of energy at a substance that is already sporadically decaying. Imagine a whole chain reaction of it. This is what triggers a nuclear explosion, the kind that obliterates an entire city."

Lilia's eyes grow wide with understanding. "So, that's why, when you shoot a lasgun at a Holtzman shield, it triggers a nuclear explosion?"

"That's right. I believe shields are made up of nuclei and rely on both the strong and the weak force to repel incoming objects on a subatomic level."

"All of that was fascinating, but how does it help us get past the shield?" Suddenly it's us, not you. Lilia has clutched the fabric of the relic's trousers over the knees in both of her fists. What the engineer's poor Feyd-Rautha currently lacks in fascination, Lilia makes up for a hundredfold.

"Oh, that was just the prelude." The engineer's lips twist into an almost mischievous little grin. "It's just what I need to take into consideration, so I don't accidentally blow up the shield and the city instead of passing through it."

"Just the prelude? My Lady, I think I'll go insane if you don't get to the point!"

The relic bursts out laughing. "We're almost done, I promise! Imagine you're riding in a groundcar and next to you drives another one with the exact same speed. When you look at it, it seems like you're both standing still, because the relative speed between both cars is zero." Lilia nods and the engineer smiles knowingly. "Now imagine you're a bullet and you want to pass through a Holtzman shield which only allows slow-moving objects to pass."

"Then I'd need the shield particles to move in the same direction as I do, only a tad slower, so that my relative speed is like that of a slow blade."

"Congratulations, you've just figured out how to trick a Holtzman shield."

"That is absolutely genius, my Lady."

"No, it's actually so simple." The woman shakes her head. "The difficult part is how to put the shield particles into motion, but I've figured something out." She summons the pixelated particles that are only for herself to see once more, nuclei that make up a Holtzman shield, accelerated by a burst of calibrated laser light, and how they give way to a bullet that cuts through them like a harpoon through water.

"Now I only need to build a proper gun," the engineer concludes.

Lilia has never cared much about the rest of the universe, and the universe has never cared much about her. Why would she care if her Lady, who has always been good to her, sets everything on fire?

When the door to Feyd-Rautha's personal bath chamber rushes open, he knows it can only be his darling, because the scanner only recognizes her handprint when he is inside.

The na-Baron is submerged to the jaw in oily-black liquid to soothe his bruises, a diluted version, heavily scented with the essence of exotic fruit and spices. He cannot breathe the unadulterated variant without gnawing memories of horror.

Her hectic footfalls cause him to spin around in the tub with worry, but before he can even utter a greeting, he finds his woman sagging down on her knees in front of him and his face captured in her palms.

"I've found a way!" She sobs.

"You've found a way?"

Tears spill down her cheeks as she nods, bringing her forehead against his. She's found a way. To kill the Baron and destroy the universe.

She is so elated, her joy could make a star rotate, it could set the world on fire. She kisses Feyd hard on the lips, melting against the wet expanse of his chest when he embraces her in his strong arms. His muscles break into tremors just like hers had an hour ago. 

All of her doubts have flown away like comets in the sky of a fiery dawn.

"Feyd-Rautha, would you be my husband?"

To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour

— Auguries of Innocence by William Blake

A/N: Pretty much none of the physical concepts mentioned are made up. I've tried to use real physics to offer explanations for Frank Herbert's fantastical inventions that make the Dune universe so unique.

I'm not even close to the level of genius that I admire in my favorite sci-fi authors, but all of this was so insanely much fun to come up with. I have more ramblings about space travel, suspenders and glowglobes, but they weren't really necessary for this chapter. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. I'm very proud ❤️

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