#perches and pikes oh my!

[ratatatastic]

(chants with increasing enthusiasm) summer lake fishing summer lake fishing summer lake fishing

IGstory (lundell_anton) | 8.4.24

[foli-vora]

used by you

marcus pike x f!reader

A/N: Yeah. IDK, I started writing this on my lunch break because I can't fucking help myself and then couldn't focus on Jason when I got home until I got it finished (typical) so here we are. This might be very fucking shaky - I'm easing back into the writing thing so I'm sorry if it's not great lmao. Enjoy angels! x

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY. dom!reader, sub!Marcus, oral (f receiving), face fucking/grinding, degradation, praise, hair pulling, slight brief choking, dirty talk, brief use of colour system, mentions of free use

He’s on the phone when you quietly slip through his office door, and your heart warms at the wash of surprised joy that floods his face at your unexpected appearance. He holds a finger up to let you know he’ll be a minute before his attention drops to the papers strewn across his desk, and you take the opportunity to discreetly lock his door.

He takes no notice, too immersed in relaying case information and potential hits to hear the click of the latch. Success. You wander over to his desk, rounding the messy surface until you're able to perch on the edge just to the side of him, ensuring to keep the documents he needs out from under you.

It's been days, perhaps weeks, since you've seen him - well and truly seen him. Sure, he comes home every night to curl around you, when the pixels on your phone screen showcase some absurd early hour. Sure, he hovers in the mornings, long enough to coax you awake with the sweet roll of his lips against yours and it's just so damn lovely... but today? Today it's not enough.

The nights without him, where you're left with nothing but your fingers to try and ebb the throb churning deep in the pit of your stomach - they're torture. No matter how you do it, how often you do it, fingers stiff and tired from the exertion of hurtling yourself up yet another peak... it just doesn't work. The feeling remains, simmering just below the surface.

There's just some things that only he can do, and easing that hot, unrelenting ache is one particular skill that he's mastered over the course of your relationship.

Finally - God, finally - that fucking phone leaves his hand, and then he's looking up at you, giving you a soul shattering smile that does absolutely nothing to calm the wild fire growing along your veins.

Such a pretty boy.

"This is a pleasant surprise," he says.

Oh, sweet thing, you have no idea.

“You’ve been neglecting me, Marcus."

Your words stop him in his tracks, that beautiful smile ever so slightly wavering on his lips. A frown soon starts to follow, and for a moment he seems speechless. Tsk'ing lightly under your breath, you slide the small distance along the desks edge until you're fully in front of him, smoothing your hands along his collar until your fingers can pluck at and fix his skewed tie.

"Work, work, work—that’s all it’s been with you lately."

“Oh," he murmurs regretfully, throat bobbing above where your fingers play, "honey, it wasn’t my intention to—”

One quick tug of the tie and the words die instantly on his tongue. His eyes widen in surprise, darting between your own as the silky fabric cuts softly into the skin of his throat, and you tilt your head in faux confusion.

“Did I give you permission to speak?”

You see the moment it happens, where a dreamy sort of glaze rolls over his warm eyes and then he's softening in your hands, completely at your mercy. Completely yours. Tongue darting out across his suddenly dry lips, he gives a slight shake of his head, and you hum in quiet approval, loosening the tie back to its original state.

“Whatever will I do with you?" You muse as you fix the tie back into its usual perfectly neat knot.

The question is rhetorical of course, and he wisely keeps quiet. Your hands wander once you're bored of fiddling with the silky fabric, running along his broad shoulders and up his throat, thumbs smoothing over his cleanly shaven jawline and tracing over his plush lips that part under your touch.

"I've missed you," you murmur, leaning forward to steal a taste of them.

He exhales softly under the pressure of your mouth, lips yielding to yours and following their direction with ease. It's slow, so painfully slow and sensual and passionate, and it's glorious.

God, how you've missed him.

You've missed him, and the scent of his cologne, and the subtle wash of his shampoo. You've missed how he makes you feel; how one hand on the cheek makes you feel so delicate, so cherished and loved and wanted; how one wet stroke of his tongue against yours makes you practically dizzy with pure need.

It's all reflected back at you when you finally break away from him, swimming in those eyes that blink ever so lovingly up at you.

"Can you do something for me, sweet boy?"

"Anything," he whispers huskily, eyes fluttering when your lips ghost over his, "I'll do anything you want."

“Oh? Good. Get on your knees.”

The desk chair is kicked back immediately, and he soon drops to his knees in front of you, hands naturally coming to rest on his thighs. Those wide doe eyes never leave yours, waiting for your approval, your instruction, anything.

"There's that good boy I know," you breathe, gently carding a hand through his soft hair, heart thundering as he practically melts like butter under your touch. "Always so good for me, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am. Only for you."

"Good. Now, sweet, sweet boy, as for your apology for leaving me all on my lonesome for so long..." you lean back on his desk, bracing your weight on your elbows and slowly spreading your legs as far as your business skirt would allow, "get to work, and make it quick, Agent. You’re a busy man, after all.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He wastes no time in shoving your skirt up and out of the way, molten eyes darkening further when he finds no underwear in his path. The cool air hits your exposed pussy, the arousal built from days of no touch from him no doubt glistening noticeably along your folds in the harsh fluorescent office lighting.

"Fuck," he exhales sharply, before the firm stroke of his tongue glides agonisingly slowly along your slit.

The wet heat of his mouth soon encloses around your clit, and you hiss from the bolt of pure electricity that rockets along your nerves - finally. It's both a sweet relief and complete torment. It's almost too much with how sensitive you feel, how every little lick and suck to the nerve feels like pure fucking blissful agony.

He does as he's told, tongue rolling and smoothing and rubbing over your clit in all the delicious ways you like before diverting his attention elsewhere, dragging and pushing the thick width of muscle into your cunt and groaning when he feels you flutter around it.

Your hand flies to knot tightly in his hair, and you exhale shakily as another rough moan vibrates the very centre of you. God, you should tell him to keep it down, but even you don't care anymore.

Ever so slightly, you start to rock carefully against his face, using your hold on his short locks to keep him close and still as you start to find your pleasure at your own pace. Maybe it didn't have to be as quick as you thought, maybe this will be how you keep him for a little while.

"Colour?"

"Green," he replies hoarsely, lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

His hands fly to your thighs, digging into the soft flesh of them in an attempt for purchase, more noises spilling from his throat as you start to slide your wet cunt more firmly back and forth against his mouth, his nose dragging against your clit with every upwards roll.

“Oh Marcus," you mutter softly, chest heaving from the onslaught of ecstasy your body is being assaulted with, "what would your team think of you right now? Trembling at the desperation of being used, like some pathetic little fucktoy.”

He shudders heavily against you, panting into your cunt like a man starved.

“You like that idea, sweet boy? You want me to use you? Whenever I want, wherever I want it?"

He makes a strangled noise of approval, brows pulling together as his face pinches in euphoria. The mere idea of him being so fucking into playing your own personal sex toy aids in building that pressure building steadily in your core with every slick grind against his mouth.

Just a little more. Just a little -

"Fu-uck," you whine, head rolling back on your shoulders as the tight promise of release starts to linger just in reach, "that's it, pretty boy. Stay just like that. Just like - fuck, you're doing so good. So good for me. My sweet boy, my - God, Marcus -"

An eruption of stars overtake your vision as you fall from that deliciously sharp edge, your thighs briefly coming in to close around his head as you ride out your climax against his face. He merely groans loudly against you, greedily taking everything you give him and more.

You feel boneless when the bliss eventually fades into a pleasant glow of warmth along your limbs, and you carefully sit up and readjust yourself on the desk as Marcus struggles to catch his breath beneath you, your arousal and cum smeared so prettily over his jaw.

"Are you okay, hon?"

His dazed eyes roll to yours, and he gives a wide, lazy grin.

"Yeah, I'm -" he exhales deeply, stretching his neck from side to side before nodding, "I'm good. Are you okay?"

Chuckling quietly, you give a small nod and brush some of the sweat that built along the back of your neck away, taking your own deep, steadying breath. You reach for the box of tissues on the corner of his desk, and swipe some into your hold.

His eyes, full of adoration, follow your every move, and soften even further when you start to clean the mess gently from his skin. He catches your hand before you can move too far from him, and you let him coax you closer, until he's able to press a tender kiss to your lips.

"I love you."

"I love you," you grin, "sit tight, handsome. I'll get you a water -"

Your legs give in the second you stand, and if it weren't for Marcus hurrying to steady you, you would've met the floor in seconds. He's laughing as he helps you down onto the floor next to him, running a hand along your thighs to massage some feeling back into them.

"Maybe we'll give the water a pass for now," he grins.

"That might be a good idea."

[kisha-myers]

This is inspired by the art done by u_rano on tiktok - I may turn this into a full blown fanfiction, idk yet but this is what I've got in my head so far 😀 I promise it gets better - if you want chapter two lemme know! 🥲

This fanfic is a fem-reader. Sorry for the confusion fusion and not specifying I'm a noon when it comes to this 🥲

Chapter One: New Neighbors

The hustling and bustling of Pikes Street Market in Seattle had always made your heart palpitate with utter dread. Far too many unfamiliar faces in a place that was overflowing with sensations that never ceased to make your anxiety skyrocket. The only reason you had even came here was because your dear old friend Johnny had asked to meet up with you. There you sat, perched at the far end of the uncomfortable wooden bench just outside of your shared favorite chocolate shop, head on a constant swivel as your eyes hunted for that ever familiar mohawk of the Scotsman.

Two hours had already passed since you were supposed to meet him, and although you were certain he of all people would never stand you up, you began to let your overthinking mind get the better of you. What if he got into a wreck? What if he got kidnapped? What if he got called back to duty early, and couldn't tell you because it was a top secret covert operation? The possibilities hurtling through your mind at the speed of light only worsened your erratic anxieties, making your heart kick start with new found speed that sent your stomach spiraling with nausea.

The wind picked up, the sunny yet still chilly day had you a shivering mess in your sweater - oh how you wished you had dressed warmer. You were a native here, born and raised in the pacific northwest - you were no stranger to the bipolar weather of spring. One moment sunny, the next a torrential downpour - it varied every year but still, you expected the same. A sigh escaped your slightly chapped lips as you stood, shoving your hands into your pockets of your washed out skinny jeans to find some semblance of warmth. You decided if you were to be stood up by the one man who had yet to do so to you, you at least deserved a treat - what better treat than a gigantic chocolate covered strawberry?

Carefully you opened the door, inhaling deeply as the scent of melted chocolate and freshly baked pastries enveloped you, calming your anxious heart significantly. Your lips twitched, turning up in the corners into a small smile, oh how you adored this place - memories of your childhood ran through your mind like an old film reel. Moments captured of you and your little sisters taking turns sitting on the bench inside, next to the giant stuffed teddy bear that you had named Rupert - it had fit his sophisticated gaze and so, Rupert he was to remain. A faint giggled tumbled through your lips as you met Ruperts beady gaze, his top hat and monocle you'd given him when you were thirteen still ever present though worn with age. It had been ten years after all.

"Ah, there she is! Was wondering if you were just gonna sit outside all day and leave me all alone in here!" Chuckled Gregory, the lively Elders British man that had takeb over the early afternoon shift a few years prior. Your eyes shot to the counter, smile widening as you rolled your eyes.

"Nah, I couldn't do that to you! I had to get my chocolate fix eventually - besides, you've had people come and go all day." You retorted, making your way to the counter and resting your elbows on it, eyes filled with mirth as you watched the old man restock the display cases.

Gregory shrugged, "Eh, they're not you love - you're far better company that sniveling little brats that have no manners or respect, and teenagers too focused on their phones to even utter a complete cohesive sentence. I mean honestly, how-" His rant was cut short as the little bell over the opposite door dinged, signaling another customer was entering the shop. His face paled, causing your brow to furrow in confusion and worry before you turned you e/c orbs towards the culprit.

A chill seeped into your bones and down your spine as you took in the sheer size of them. Compared to your little five foot frame they towered over you - making you feel impeccably smaller, something of which you had never thought was even possible. Your eyes bounced back and forth between the two of them, taking in what little features you could. The both wore masks of some sort - one had a skull on it, and the other wore a snipers hood, something you only knew because Johnny had shown you one while giving you a tour of the army vase him and his team were stationed at. His eyes were a deep hazel, swirls of honeyed amber mixed with hunter green and mahogany - though pretty to look at they were unbelievably cold and uninviting. Worse yet, he stared back at you, almost as if you of all people were a threat to him. The black that surrounded his eyes only served to unnerve you even more so you cast your gaze away, only to land on his companion.

The other seemed less hostile though not by much, his eyes were a pretty sky blue though they too were swimming in black but encompassed by blonde thick lashes. This one towered over his skull masked companion, having to be damn near seven feet tall. Broad shoulders, thick muscled arms, powerful thighs and a slim waist - you just new he was ripped to filth under those layers. You blushed softly, shaking from your stupor and clearing your throat as you turned back to Gregory with a forced, thin lipped smile.

"Well, it's been nice chatting with you Gregory but I've got errands to run since I've been stood up. If you'd be so kind, I'd like a chocolate covered strawberry to go please." You cursed yourself inwardly as your voice shook, loathing your mere existence as panic laced your heart. Your anxiety was back and it was even worse than before. Your hands were sweating and shook slightly, your breaths were starting to come in short little bursts - you were well on your way to a panic attack when Gregory acknowledged your request.

"Of course love, it's on me today - no pretty lady like yourself deserves to be stood up. You're too good for whoever the hell he is anyways. Here, enjoy it - be sure to say bye to Rupert, I'm sure he missed you too." He chuckled, sending you a wink and waving you off as he turned and strode towards the ominous men lurking in the far corner. You snorted, grabbing the little box that housed your favorite treat and hurried out the door, blowing a kiss to Rupert before you left.

The cold outside for once, soothed you, helping you take deep breaths to calm your racing heart once more as you made your way back to your apartment. Your eyes glanced up towards the sky, dark clouds had begun to roll in, signaling to you that it would rain soon. Your pace picked up to a brisk walk, having decided that you did NOT want to be caught in the rain lest you get sick again. As you rounded the corner your phone buzzed, the vibrations sending tingling down your right leg causing you to stop in your tracks. Hastily your hands fumbled it out of your pocket, swiping the green little phone icon and pressing the mobile device against your ear.

"Hello?" You answered, eyes frantically taking in your surroundings as you forced your feet to regain their momentum.

"You a'right lass? You sound worried?" Johnny's Scottish brogue filled the pensive silence that had enveloped you. Within seconds your mood shifted considerably, eyes narrowing in irritation and vexation.

"Why would I not be worried Johnny? It wasn't like we had made plans together hours ago or anything." You snapped back crinkling your nose in disgust at yourself as you felt tears beginning to well up in your e/c eyes. Rustling could be heard in the background, a muffled female voice groggy from sleep sounded, making your vexation even worse, "Are you fucking kidding me Johnny!? You stood me up, ME, just so you could get laid? What the actual fuck!" You snarled, mentally debating if you should yeet your phone off into the distance with the same force the halfing did to the Ring of Sauron into Mordor. Your eyes burned from both the cold wind now barging against your face and the unshed tears you fought to keep from spilling over.

Johnny groaned and you could hear his palm connecting with his forehead as it finally dawned on him what day it was, "Fuck I'm so sorry lass, time escaped me and you know how one thing leads to another and-" You cut him off, shaking your head even though you knew he could see you. The disappointment and self-resentment you had inside you was swelling, you hated that you were jealous of a mystery woman you didn't even know. You weren't physically attracted to Johnny, it was more so that he had deemed her presence more important than yours - at least that is what you surmised inside your head.

"No Johnny, no I don't know how that is because that doesn't happen to me. I'm not desirable enough for that to even be a thought. Regardless, we had plans and you promised to be here and you weren't. Hours I sat outside and waited for you and you were too busy fucking some twat - real nice Johnny. I'll let you get back to it, I hope you enjoy what's little is left of your leave." With a sniffle you hung up, effectively silencing whatever response he could offer you and subsequently turning off your phone entirely to ignore any texts or calls he'd send your way.

The tears you had so desperately fought to keep back fell, staining your cheeks with their salty essence as you turned the corner where your apartment complex was nestled on. You dug your keys from your pocket, head tilted down as you blinked rapidly to clear your eyes so you could find the right key that would let you inside. Your hands shook as you fiddled with your keys, grumbling insults towards Johnny as you did so. Was it too much to ask for just one person to genuinely seek put your company? To simply remember your existence passed when it was convenient for them to do so? No, you reasoned, it wasn't too much to ask.

Just as your fingers wrapped around the very key you needed, your body slammed into a wall, knocking you off of your feet. A squeaked 'oof' slipped from between your lips as you felt something thick wrap around your waist and crush you into the very wall you collided into. Your head snapped up, a gasp bursting from your chest as your eyes connected with the sky blues you'd stared into only fifteen minutes prior. Your mouth hung open, eyes wide as a blush dusted over your pale cheeks. He cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised in question as he took in your shocked features.

"You should be more careful Schatz, you could have gotten hurt." Your brain processed his words slowly, eyes blinking rapidly before you carefully pulled away from his hold.

"S-sorry." You mumbled, cursing yourself for stuttering as you gathered up your keys and treat, "It's been a little bit of a rough day, I should have been looking where I was going." You mumbled, keeping your gaze lowered as your hands fiddled with your keys. You didn't bother letting him respond, you simply stepped around his massive frame and hurried inside your complex, eyes glancing up every so often as you unlocked the main entrance and scurried off to the elevator.

As always, the wait for the stupid contraption was excruciating and of course the entire first floor of your building was all windows. You could feel his gaze burning a hole into your back but you refused to turn and look. You'd already embarrassed yourself enough today, adding onto that would wreck your fragile mind even more. The buzzed ding from behind the metal sliding doors signaled to you that the elevator had finally reached the first floor, a breath of relief slipped past your lips as you moved slightly to the right in case someone was already inside. The doors slid open with a slight scrape, the noise making you grimace as you clutched your keys to your chest. You glanced up and froze as your gaze connected with the skull masked man - of course he'd be the one exiting the elevator.

Your eyes watered as your heartbeat skyrocketed once more. Being unable to take his smoldering gaze, you turned on your heels and bolted like your life depended on it. Your feet carried you up each flight of stairs, your lungs burning with each breath you forced in. You wanted to blame this entire day on Johnny, but you knew it was your ultimate shifty luck that caused this mess. Tears spilled over, blazing a trail down your flushed cheeks and splattering haphazardly onto the metal stairs you practically flew up. You were thankful that no one hardly used the stairs, you couldn't take your nosey neighbor Patrice pestering you about what was wrong - she never ceased her prying and quite frankly you were in no mood to bother being polite.

Eventually you shouldered open the door to your floor, feet finally dragging you to your door as you sniffle. You wiped away your tears with the left sleeve of your sweater, your right hand shoving your apartment key into the lock and turning. Just as you pocketed your keys and rested your hand on the know the faint buzzed ding of the elevator down the opposite side of the hall gathered your attention. You lifted your gaze as the smudged doors opened, your face contorting into pure devastation as both uncannily ominous men stepped off the elevator. Before they could even look at you, you shouldered your door open and hurried inside. You didn't even bother to turn on any lights as you slammed it closed, hurrying to slide the deadbolt into place. You pressed your front against the door, closing your left eye as your right looked out the peephole.

You watched as the stopped in front of the door across the hall from yours, the skull man pulling out a silver key and sliding it into the lock before he stood aside and waved the taller male through. Both men stood there for a moment, silently communicating with one another before their gazes simultaneously turned towards your door, as if they could see through it, as if they could see you. You shoved yourself harder than you anticipated from your door, stumbling over your own feet but thankfully, catching and steadying yourself on the wall. You ran a hand through your h/l h/c hair, taking a shuddering breath as you reminded yourself that that notion was entirely impossible.

No one had the ability to see through doors with only their eyes - you were fine now, safely locked away into your cave of an apartment. You closed your eyes, leaning your back against the wall and slowly letting gravity slide you down until your butt hit the floor. You kicked off your shoes, laughing at yourself for being so pathetic - you would start taking your medications first thing in the morning, your anxiety was off the charts and you needed all the help you could get to control it.

One thing was for certain though, you'd make sure to avoid your new neighbors at all costs.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRsLejjN/

[waltwhitmansbeard]

Perc'ahlia Week Day 1: Dawn/Treasure

happy first day of @percahliaweek! you will also find all of my fics for this week on ao3!

The youngest de Rolo child screams her way into the world right at dawn, but she herself is the color of sunset. Of blood. Of a heart, beating and alive. The birthing suite is quiet, except for the miserable squalls of the newborn. The midwife, the same one who ushered in all of the child's elder siblings, holds her, eyes wide, unsure of where is the least improper place to be staring right now.

Pike is the one to break the spell. "Well, get her cleaned up!" The bite in her tone jolts the midwife into action. She scuttles to the basin of water that Keyleth has been keeping warm. While they clean the baby of the detritus of her birth, Pike lays her hands on Vex's arm. A golden light flickers across Vex's sweat-slick skin, and the exquisite aches of childbirth all but disappear.

Leaving Vex with little to think about but her tiefling daughter.

She looks first to Pike, a holy woman, a friend, for wisdom, for salvation, but Pike can offer nothing but a gentle pat on the arm and an encouraging smile. Keyleth is the one who brings the baby over, all clean and swaddled in a lavender blanket that clashes horribly, and when Vex looks to her, she finds scarcely-concealed panic.

"She's beautiful," Keyleth murmurs, nestling the baby into Vex's arms, which reach up automatically, without conscious thought. She wonders if Keyleth's lying. She was never very good at it—but then, she's been in politics for a while now. Maybe she's learned a thing or two.

It isn't until the baby's round cheek presses into Vex's chest, until the tiny, grasping fingers latch onto the end of her fraying braid, until her heart claws its way to lodge in her throat, that she looks up at Percy. How many years has she known this man, how many ways has she pulled back his layers to see into the heart of him—shouldn't she be able to see the tears in his eyes and know if they are tears of joy, of revulsion, of love, of fear? For years they've been able to read each other's thoughts with nothing more than a glance; are they even in the same room?

His hand is clenched white-knuckled around the poster of the bed, as if it is the only thing keeping him upright. (Maybe it is.) His eyes are locked on the baby, on the jerky movements of her arms, so new, so unsure. Vex watches him watch her, and she doesn't know what to say.

"Why don't we..." Keyleth trails off, nervous and hesitant, but Pike finishes the thought with, "...let you have some time?" The two of them usher the baffled midwife out, and then they are alone.

The baby gurgles. Vex tears her eyes away from Percy to see her tug with that mysterious baby strength on the end of the braid. She really is beautiful, with a dusting of fine dark hair and a button nose.

"I didn't cheat on you."

The words are out before Vex can think about them. They're answered with a loud, shaky exhale and a croaked, "Fucking hell, Vex'ahlia."

Her eyes snap to his. "I didn't."

He's looking at her like she herself just sprouted horns. "Are you operating under the assumption that I believe you did?"

Oh. His face is entirely unreadable, the phases of some inner turmoil happening too quickly for her mind, exhausted after a long night of labor, to make sense of. "I...how do you explain..."

"Vex..." He runs a tired hand over his face, and for the first time, Vex sees the age that Percy tries to hide from her. She's reminded of the fact that while he certainly did not expel an entire person from his body today, he did, at the very least, stay awake with her through the agonies of the night, hold her hand and wipe the sweat from the brow as her body contorted in its familiar dance to bring another de Rolo into this castle. He perches on the edge of the bed facing her, brings his long, delicate fingers up to toy with the minuscule feet hidden beneath the swaddle. "Vex, I did this."

She frowns. "I don't think that's how this works, darling."

He smiles. "It is when you make a deal with a devil."

All of the breath leaves her. She hasn't thought about that in ages, the contract that sits beneath the castle in a vault, never to be seen again. All these years, it was so easy to believe that they'd gotten off scot-free, that the follies of their youth had exacted all of the tolls to be exacted.

Yet here she is, holding her baby girl, bright red as a devil. She trails her fingers over her tiny head, and she can feel them, twin bumps where someday, horns will grow.

In these earliest moments of day, when the first golden rays promise all of the potential of what is to come, there is a choice to be made. Vex knows that whatever is said next will forever change the future of this girl, this marriage, this family, this city. There is a choice to be made, and for her, it is no choice at all.

"She's perfect."

She juts her chin out, looks to her husband in challenge. She dares him to say something, to disagree with her assessment of their child. He doesn't, of course, because Vex knows he doesn't have it in him to reject anything they've made together. His fingertips, so wonderful at handling the tiniest, most delicate things with care, brush along their baby girl's cheek, and she lets out a small cry. He grins a grin as bright as the Dawnfather's sun. "Our greatest treasure. Brighter than any jewel in our coffers."

"And anyone who suggests otherwise will face our wrath."

"Swift and exacting."

"We'll need to get out ahead of the rumors."

"I'll bet you all the gold in the castle that Keyleth has already threatened the midwife within an inch of her life."

"Only if Pike hasn't done it first."

"We have the best of friends."

"Mm, we really do." She sighs. "Do you think the other children will..."

Percy slides over so they're sitting shoulder to shoulder, both gazing at the baby in her arms. "Tease her?" Vex nods. "Well, they are your children..." He's not quick enough to evade the pinch to his ear. Laughing, he says, "I think that we are far from perfect parents, but that we've done our best to raise our children to be good, kind, empathetic people, with a near-pathological instinct to protect their own. So I'm not worried, no."

She tips her head onto his shoulder. It is dawn, but she is so very tired. "She really is a treasure, Percy."

A kiss as familiar as her own name is pressed into the crown of her head. "As are you. The greatest prize a de Rolo ever claimed."

She wrinkles her nose. "Okay, first of all, you didn't claim me—"

And he shuts her up with a kiss, and she lets him, because a new day is dawning for the de Rolo family, because she is holding their child, because she loves him, because she is happy, she is happy, she is happy.

[littlebosslady7]

Just You and Me

(A/N No one asked for this. It's just been stuck in my head for awhile. Apologies for any mistakes. Feeling a bit under the weather these past couple days.)

A raven perched on a window tree during a strangely warm autumn morning. Constant chatter was heard through these bustling bed chambers. Clerics and trainees were prepared for the royal birth.

A pained scream breaks through this constant rhythm of directions

"Gah, Gods, h-how much longer?" Keyleth asked, panting and sweaty.

Her hand dug into the familiar scarred wrist of her best friend Percy. He'd been in this helpful position before a few months earlier with his wife Vex and their newborn daughter Vesper. He thought about saying something about that particular tight grip, akin to a vine growing through stone.

But then he looked to an equally exhausted Vex'ahlia, who had just shot him a glare that warned, "I wouldn't if you want to live to see our firstborn have siblings, my darling."

"Right." Percy championed, switching hands for her to squeeze, "You've got this, Keyleth."

She doubted, yet agreed, "O-okay."

"You've got this Kiki." She declared, patting Trinket on his fluffy hind quarters, "You've got this for them."

Both her boys. Vax and their firstborn

Nell advised, "We're at the ring of fire, Tempest. Give of three solid pushes, and you'll meet your boy."

Keyleth bared and grunted. Everyone heard strong cries even before their airways were fully cleared.

"Oh!" Keyleth cried too in both pain and joy, "He sounds so beautiful."

"They're perfect, dear," concurred Vex, peeking down to ensure fellow clergy people were cleaning his airways correctly.

Percy reminded, "Not done yet, dear."

Her legs trembled on the second push, but Percy and Vex kept her steady. His torso was out.

"Nell, can I take a break?" Keyleth requested, voice an octave lower, "I'm fucking exhausted,"

"Just one more Tempest." Nell assured, "You've got to give me more."

With every breath, every fiber in her being, she pushes her baby, her and Vax's child out in this world. A scream as if she summoned a fireball disturbed that visiting raven.

Keyleth whimpered in recognition, "Ashton?"

He was crying as some of the birthing staff carefully place the newborn on her bare chest. She cried too when she blearily spotted that same sleek dark hair.

Both Vex and Kiki sniffled in harmony, "Like his dad."

Nell's unsure of who to hand the medical shearers.

"Oh, I'll-". Percy volunteered with hesitation, "If that's okay with you Keyleth."

She nodded amid a scrunched face.

Percy snipped the umbilical cord. Nell's team cleaned up the Tempest's firstborn. Keyleth and Vex were sobbing and giving a one shoulder hug. The druid had an annoying bout pushing out the afterbirth. But it was all worth when she sees him again. Ashton looked at shapeless tapestries, but their eyes settled on his mama's face.

"Congratulations Key." Vex bid as she and Percy give them some privacy and take Vesper from Pike, Scanlan, "My brother would be so proud."

She whispered with a tired smile, "Yeah, he would."

"We'll be right next door with your cousin if you need us, Keyleth," Percy said, looping an arm around Vex's waist.

Keyleth ran a tentative finger down her newborn's face. He tried to latch onto the digit for some milk. She nursed him with a bit of fussing, but before they slept, she looked for that majestic visiting raven and saw none.

Keyleth mentioned, "Hm, just you and me, kid. But we'll be okay. I swear it."

He cooed with a gassy grin. Right before they slipped into slumber, that visiting raven cawed and perched on her interior mantle.

[elvenmother]

The Art of Crossed Wires - 5 - The Portrait Witness

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader Rating: Teen. Warnings: Swearing Chapter: 5/9 Word count: 2067

Summary: As the week comes to a close, you look forward to your date on Saturday with Marcus. Surely everything is on track now, right?

Note: This has not been beta read, so apologies for any mistakes.

Part Four | Part One | Series Masterpost

It was Friday, and after a week filled with pranks, misunderstandings, and a perhaps date, you were more than ready for the weekend ahead. The office bustled around you with activity as your co-workers focused on their tasks while chattering about weekend plans filtered through the space. The day had a slower, almost lazy feel to it as tasks were completed and the pile of files on people’s desks slowly diminished.

“So, what are you doing tomorrow? Anything fun?” You could hear two co-workers talking just behind you. Chris, an older guy in his fifties with a large round belly and an unconvincing comb-over, was chatting with Beth. Beth was a tiny woman in her sixties who, you were pretty sure, had worked for the FBI all her life.

“Oh, the usual.” Beth took a long slurp of her coffee. “Mister Pickles is in another show, so I’m gonna be super busy.”

“Wow.” You heard Chris chuckle. “Your dog’s got a better social life than me.”

“What show is Mister Pickles in Beth?” Mary wandered over, perching on the desk opposite yours. “Is it like a competition?”

“Yes.” Beth sounded very proud. “It’s a special show for smaller breeds. Last year he placed ninth, so I wanna do better this year. I have to get back to my desk, so if I don’t see you before five, have a good weekend.”

“You too.” Mary waved as Beth shuffled off. “So what about you, Chris? Up to anything fun?”

“Oh Lord, no.” Chris chuckled again. “My youngest is turning fifteen, and I promised to help her repaint her room. You?”

“Aw, that’ll be nice, though, some daddy-daughter time.” Mary smiled. “Nothing special, really. Me and my sister are gonna drive out to a friend’s for a birthday party.”

“Sounds fun.” Chris started off towards his desk. “Have a good weekend, ladies.”

You smiled politely as Chris passed your desk, glancing over to see Mary still sitting, smiling at you.

“So ‘Miss Quiet’ over there.” Mary pushed off the desk and stepped over to yours. “Anything nice planned this weekend?”

You paused for a moment, remembering the plans you had made with Marcus to go to the art gallery. “Erm, yeah. I’m going to an art gallery with a friend on Saturday. That’s all, though.”

Mary raised her eyebrows, and her smile grew. “You’re making more friends? That’s great. I know it took you a while to find your feet here, but I’m glad you’re meeting new people. So who are they? Where did you meet them?”

You weren’t sure what to say. You’d had a fantastic lunch with Marcus but still weren’t sure if it had been an actual date. On top of that, you really didn’t want to start any gossip about him in the office. After you not speaking for a few seconds, Mary frowned.

“I’m being nosy. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not that.” You lied, even though she was being incredibly nosy. “It’s just… I’m not sure if this person is just a friend or something more.”

Mary’s eyes lit up once more. “Oooh, a guy then? Could this be the certain someone Louise saw you with?” Your eyes shot up to her face, and she smiled with a nod. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word. Some people here are terrible gossips. Don’t worry. I’ll keep them off your trail.” She winked conspiratorially and stood up. “Have a good weekend, honey.”

“You too.” You replied out of reflex as Mary returned to her own desk. Your shoulders felt tense, and your gut twisted as you went back over what you’d said.

Had you told her too much? Would she really keep it to herself? The last thing you needed was to make it weird with Marcus again. Everything had gone so well at lunch yesterday, and the two of you seemed to really make a connection. Even if it hadn’t been a date, that was still good.

But if it hadn’t been a date and suddenly everyone in the office thought you were dating, then that would be beyond awkward. Marcus would think you were some kind of weird stalker who slaps people into dating her. Fuck.

Luckily he was out of the office all day today, so no one could say anything or give him any ‘knowing’ looks. But come Monday, things could get really uncomfortable if you didn’t get ahead of this. You were meant to be meeting him tomorrow for coffee before the two of you headed to an exhibition he was excited about. You would have to have a quiet word with him then. Find out once and for if lunch had been just lunch or a date.

~~~~~

Marcus was already waiting for you as you arrived at the coffee shop early Saturday afternoon. It was a fair large branch of a big chain and usually the kind of place you tried to avoid if possible. It’s not that the coffee wasn’t good; it was just they were always so busy, and you preferred to give your money to smaller businesses wherever possible. Marcus was already seated as you pushed the front door open, and as soon as he spotted you, he immediately broke out into a big smile and gave you a small wave. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to smile back, and headed over.

“Hey.” He greeted you, standing up politely until you were also sat down. He was dressed in jeans with a simple blue t-shirt and a black leather jacket. You could already feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Damn him for looking so damn hot.

“H-hey you, M-Marcus, hi.” You managed to get out, watching as he cocked his head slightly at your strange greeting.

“Everything ok?”

“Oh yeah, sure, for sure.” You nodded, looking back at the massive queue snaking from the counter to the door. You could really use some water right now. “Just a little, erm, I just, wow, is it me, or is it really warm in here?”

Marcus narrowed his eyes a little but kept smiling. “Yeah, a little. Listen, if it’s too busy in here, we can leave. The gallery actually has a bar area where we can get coffee or water. It’s a little pricy but not too crazy.”

Bless his heart. He thought you were nervous around crowds. You wanted to curl up in a ball, as you realised, and you had to stop yourself from immediately correcting him. Instead, you guiltily gave a small nod.

“Come on.” Marcus stood up, gathering his phone off the table. “It’s not far.”

As soon as you were both outside, you started feeling slightly better. The bustle of the street on a busy Saturday afternoon distracting you from the gnawing thought that you might have misunderstood Marcus’ intentions. Ahead of you, you could already see the gallery Marcus had told you about, but all you could focus on was the man walking on your left.

“Feeling better?” Marcus looked over at you as you made your way along the sidewalk.

“Yup.” You hated this. He looked so concerned about you, not understanding that the real problem was your own overactive imagination. Stealing a sly glance at him, you watched as his smile dropped as he frowned. Clearly, he was starting to pick up on how strangely you were acting, how stiffly you were walking, or how quiet you were.

The walk to the gallery took under five minutes, but it had felt far longer by the time you followed Marcus through the doors and into the hushed space. All around you, fellow art lovers stood in pairs or small groups admiring and analysing the art on display. Turning to Marcus, you made your second attempt at a smile.

“Where do we start?”

He looked at you for a few seconds, and you could feel his eyes studying every part of your face. Finally, he gestured off to the right of the main door. “Let's start over here.”

Today was turning out to be the opposite of the time you had spent together at lunch. There the conversation had been easy and flowing. Now, as you walked around the gallery, it felt stilted and awkward. Occasionally you asked questions about the pieces, and Marcus would answer you, happily talking about composition and other things you had no idea about. But there was none of his usual spark as he spoke about the art, and more than once, you caught him chewing on his lip as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.

After an excruciating hour of blushing uncontrollably whenever Marcus spoke to you while simultaneously making awkward small talk, you found yourself in a small side room alone with Marcus. You were sure that the intimate space was meant to emphasise something about the portrait within, but all you could think was how closely Marcus was standing next to you and how neither of you had spoken for a solid twenty minutes.

“Have I done something to upset you?” Marcus broke the silence and turned fully to face you.

“No.” You answered without thinking, looking up at his face for the first time properly all day. His big brown eyes were filled with confusion and anxiety as he scanned your face for clues.

“No?” He repeated your answer, raising his eyebrows. “Then what's going on? Cos I thought you wanted to come here with me, but you’ve been acting like you’d rather be anywhere but here all day. Are you bored? We can go somewhere else. Or… or is it me?”

“Fuck.” You cursed, immediately slapping your hand over your mouth as the word slipped out. Sighing, you lowered it, shaking your head. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

“I’ve heard that line before.” Marcus folded his arms as he frowned. “And it usually doesn’t go well for me.”

“I’m sorry.” You needed to be honest. You needed to know, and if things were going to be weird at work well, then things would be weird. You were a grown-up. You’d live. “I just, I’m not sure how to act around you. And that’s my fault because I’m not sure if I’ve read too much into this.” You gestured to the two of you.

“How, how do you mean?” You watched Marcus swallow hard.

“Lunch.” The room suddenly felt far too warm; either that or you were nervous sweating. Perfect. “When we had lunch, was it a date? Like an actual date? Because, well, shit, because I treated it like it was. Which would make this our second date, I guess.”

You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you were expecting to that confession, but it sure as hell wasn’t the one you got. To your horror, Marcus visibly paled as his eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak before shutting it abruptly.

“Shit.” Your legs felt shaky like jelly. “Did I read too much into this? Fuck. I’m so sorry. I just, shit, I really thought…”

You trailed off, hoping Marcus would speak up, but to your utter dismay, he didn’t. Instead, he just stood there staring at the floor next to your feet. His jaw looked tense, and his arms were tightly folded across his chest. You could feel the tears threatening to well up as your embarrassment started to take hold.

“I’m really sorry.” You whispered before turning to leave.

Making your way through the gallery, you fought back the tears. There would be time for crying later. At home. In private. With wine. Right now, you just needed to get out of here. You needed to get away from Marcus. Even though, as you reached the main doors, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking back. Perhaps he had followed you to talk it out.

Glancing around the space, your heart sank as you watched him slink from the area you had come from into the gallery bar. You wanted to kick yourself. What had you been thinking?

This wasn’t a rom-com. He wasn’t going to chase after you and confess his love. He thought you were a complete fucking weirdo. First, you slapped him, then you bought him his lost book, making you look like a total stalker then you imagined a date.

You needed to get home. You needed to have a cry and then start applying for new jobs.

~~

Taglist: @jxvipike, @miraclesabound, @littlemisspascal, @galaxyofmando, @pintsizemama, @athalien, @zanzann, @furiousmushroom, @ghostofaboy, @thebestrouge, @janebby

[idontownahome]

how good of friends I think all of the fish in stardew valley would be with me based on their sprite image on a scale of 1 to 10

tuna- I think that the tuna and I are quite similar in personality, we would hang out a lot and probably have a decent number of inside jokes 9/10

Salmon- salmon are bitches the only thing they are good for is food I will not discuss further 0/10

Walleye- the walleye is a fish that is abundant in my surroundings so we would prolly fw each other 7/10

Perch- similar to the walleye abundant near me we’d vibe 7/10

Pufferfish- for some reason the pufferfish's expression is filled with more extistential dread than one of my 2am spirals so like 11/10

Anchovey- little salty boi swimming around ready to talk shit about whatever 7/10

Sardine- would not like me because me and the anchovey talk too much shit about em 1/10

Rainbow Trout- gay 11/10

Largemouth Bass- the large mouth bass by name alone would get quite annoyed by the fact that i dont listen to it 3/10

Smallmouth Bass- vibes with me we sit there and play dominoes together 6/10

Bream- bream is a minimalist and my presence disrupts them 2/10

Catfish- catfish would want me to think theyre my friend but in reality hate me like a middleschooler and for that 4/10

Carp- a fish that can adapt to any situation i think we'd be chill together favorite activities include watching paint dry 8/10

Pike- the pike has shit to do and places to be and absolutly no time for my crap 3/10

Sunfish- The sunfish wants nothing more than to watch crappy rom com movies and knows im down for that 8/10

Octopus- oh dont get me started on this fucker even if he wanted to be friends with me i'd be gone 0/10

Squid- the squid likes cold winter days and chilling watching the snow and i like that too 7/10

Red Snapper- the red snapper looks partly confused with life and i am too i think we could make it work together 9/10

Flounder- the flounder looks stupid and like it wants nothing more than to shitpost on twitter and i just cant get behind that so 3/10

Sea Cucumber- the ugly twin of the two and once heard me call it that 0/10

Super Cucumber- also is mad that i called the sea cucumber the ugly twin but also agrees with me so 5/10

Eel- for some reason the eel looks desperatly lonley to me and uhhhhh 9/10

Red Mullet- the red mullet reminds me of a football jock and so it would probably not get along very well with me as soccer is better 2/10

Herring- the herring is a single parent and wants nothing more than somone that will help them clean up the house and cook a nice dinner and i would do that 8/10

Ghostfish- the ghostfish makes that their whole personalilty and i'd get sick of it one day and ask them to stop and we would have a brief falling out with eachother before realizing that we still love eachother 7/10

Lava Eel- the lava eel would not like me the second that i hesitated to commit arson and burn down the town 2/10

Ice Pip- what a lil guy, so cute, so small, i love him and hope he loves me 10/10

Stonefish- An absolute brick, also a sports jock but i think that the stonefish has a secret love of a lot of nerdy things and would like me cuz im right there with em 7/10

Sandfish- for some reason the sanfish reminds me of the one cashire at the grocery store that you are alwayse afraid of getting because they make you feel nervous for absolutly no reason and so they think im flighty 3/10

Scorpion Carp- the scorpion carp is definitly a lil bit of a mess but in a fun way and we would vibe 7/10

Bullhead- the bullhead is a stuborn bitch but so am i and so we would argue but in a hot way (thats not the right word hold up) 8/10

Tiger Trout- the tiger trout is obsessed with playing COD and yelling at children over voice chats and i do not fw that 0/10

Sturgeon- the sturgeon are absolutly sick of me chasing them around and would hate me 3/10

Lingcod- the lingcod has a facial expression that is my defut emotional state 10/10

Shad- I keep forgetting shad's name and it leads to infighting 1/10

Albacore- the albacore is a beautiful fish and while i want to be friends with it it does not want to be friends with me sadly 5/10

Midnight Carp- the midnight carp wants to watch scary movies and pain our nails black and while i dont like scary movies ill be there 9/10

Tilapia- the tilapia does not get my sense of humor and only likes jokes about marketing and so 4/10

Chub- the chub heard me call it sorta boring once and it made it sad and i didnt know it heard me so i never apologized 2/10

Dorado- the dorado is a chill dude, while we would chill together i am a little to tightly wound for it 7/10

Woodskip- the woodskip does not know i exist and that is okay na/10

Void Salmon- a type of salmon so i cannot be friends with the void salmon 0/10

Halibut- the halibut is too busy doing his accounting job to deal with me but we still go for brunch every other tuesday 8/10

Slimejack- the slimejack reminds me of my bankteller which sounds like we would not be good friends but i like my bank teller and we talk about fullmetal alchemist together 9/10

Stingray- i dont like the beach and so the stingray thinks im stuck up and dont like relaxing as much but we still okay with eachother while im there 4/10

Lionfish- the lionfish both thinks that and is better than me in all ways sadly 1/10

Goby- the goby would be my absolute best friend stays in its lane enjous waterfalls a great dude 10/10

Blue Discus- the blue discus is a shy fish and despite the fact that i am an introvert i am too weird for it 5/10

Spook Fish- the spookfish has seen all the horror of this world and so is not currently taking friendship applications 0/10

Midnight Squid- the squid and i are chill together so ofc its after dark cousin likes me 8/10

Lobster- the lobsters are afraid of me because i harvest them in mass to give to my husband 0/10

Clam- ive on many occasions ignored a clam or two so they probably do not like me 3/10

Crayfish- i wish it was a lobster and it knows it 2/10

Crab- the crabs and I get along well, and thats what matters 9/10

Cockle- i laugh at its name far too often and so it hates me and thinks im a bad person 1/10

Mussel- i strongly dislike them but i try my best and they find that honorable 7/10

Shirmp-shrimp and i get along so well honestly i cant tell you teh specifics but man i love the shrimp 10/10

Snail- the snail is more socially awkward than me which is concerning and we make eachother mildly uncomfortable sometimes in silence so its hard to become friends- 5/10

Periwinkle- an absolute modle and i dress like a farmer both in the game and in real life so thinks that i am a farmer which i guess i correct? 4/10

Oyster- i dont like the oyster, its boring and it knows it, we familiar but will eachother but nothing more 3/10

Crimsonfish- the crimson fish took one look at me and realized how fish deranged i was and decided that it did not fuck with that sadly 0/10

Angler- i think the angler looks both cool and stupid and it thinks of me the same way <3 7/10

Legend- true story i accidentally ate the legend after catching it the first time ever and that has set the tone for our whole relationship together sadly 2/10

Glacierfish- the glacier fish and i chill out together and in general are decently nice around eachother 7/10

Mutant Carp- the mutant carp thinks i am utterly insane which wtf bro how am i the crazy one in the relationship but oh well whatever 1/10

Every decendent of a legendary fish- every single decendent has been told to stay are far as crap away from me for my deranged love of fish and so none of them have ever had any intrest in becoming frineds with me sadly :( 0/10

[coiledqueen]

The lioness withdraws, and--in the afterglow of their latest brawl--Lucy is finally allowed a moment to decompress, still perched upon the mat, wincing as she reaches up to undo her temporary ponytail.

Adrenaline still buzzes in the Pike Queen's ears--she can barely hear Sierra telling her grunts to get back to work over the thump of her own heartbeat--but the rush is quick to fade away, bringing her back down to a painful reality. Everything hurts now.

As expected, Sierra had really doled out some harsh punishment. Worrying her bloodied lip, Lucy takes a tender catalogue of the damage done: her arms were scraped and bruised from parrying Sierra's lightning strikes, and her ribs ached horribly where the admin had nearly crushed them. (And yet, aside from that incidental lip cut, Sierra had managed to uphold the Pike Queen's little pre-match request. No blows to the face, this time.)

Thank you for the battle.

"...Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it," Lucy mutters, wheezing and clenching her teeth as she manages to stagger stiffly back to her feet. Still, the look that she shoots Sierra is playful, almost coy. "You're still too damn quick...but watch your back, yeah? I'm catching up, and next time you won't be so lucky."

Lucy smirks, and a red-faced grunt suddenly sprints in to deliver towels for the two women, all but disappearing before they can get told off. Draping the towel around her shoulders, the Pike Queen blows some sweaty hair from her eyes and--very carefully--steps back into her heels. With a grimace, she pauses to lift up the edge of her top...and just as suspected. On top of all the other injuries, her side is already bruising purple from Sierra's earlier hold. A tired sigh escapes her lips.

"...That photoshoot tomorrow is going to be an adventure," she groans, dreading her future commitment. "Scott and Argenta might just kill me. I'm visiting medical before I go."

"Oh, and..." Turning gingerly on her heel, Lucy pauses to wink back at Sierra. "...if you ever do get tired of rotting behind your desk, stop by sometime? I'd love the chance to learn more about my newest rival..."

Stop.

Lucy struggles, trying to slither away from Sierra's grip. Once more, the Admi lets out the tiniest, most frustrated grunt as she tightens it in return, her own back arching ever so slightly as she put all her strenght in her leg.

Stop...!

Sierra breathes through gritted teeth, her own nails digging into the mat as Lucy's attempts to escape with any mean necessary - the same breathe she holds in the last few seconds of their battle, as if even that could her remain focused, keep all her power in that last move of hers--

--and finally lets out a sigh of relief, as satisfied as it is tired, as the other finally gives up. She almost thought she'd have to knock her out for good, for a moment.

There's... a hint of something in her eyes as she still doesn't release her opponent at first, the temptation of actually keep going, either egging her on or ask her to be a little more polite about it. She would've done it with literally anyone else, really.

Once more, however, Lucy is different. Different enough to convince even someone like Sierra to end this in somewhat amicable terms, finally releasing her from her grip and allowing herself a moment of relief as she falls onto the mat, inhaling deeply in and out.

A second of weakness she immediately hides under her usual, cold mask when she remembers the grunts were staring, some even daring to clap.

"If any one of you trained even a tenth as hard as she did, we wouldn't have problems with children."

Her smile is soft, her voice brutal as it is weakened -- and yet, it's enough to make those morons return to their own training at last. Lifting herself with her arms, the Admin takes a few more seconds to breathe, her eyes closed, her grin once more returning genuine.

"Thank you for the battle."

[bumblesimagines]

When Fire Meets Fate

Request: Yes or No

TW for this series: Incest, implied incest, violence, typical GoT warnings.

If any of this may be upsetting to you, the reader, please avoid this series and instead check out my other work.

~~~

Within the castle, deep within its thick walls, resided part of the Hightower family; Otto Hightower and two of his children, Alicent and (Y/N) Hightower. For as long as the twins could remember, King's Landing had been their home, their safe haven. The Red Keep held many memories from them, from the beginning of Alicents' friendship with Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen to the tragic passing of their beloved mother, Marin Hightower. The twins had been brought up under the watchful eye of their father, but no amount of words or comfort could fill the gaping wound Marin had left on her death day. She'd left behind heartbroken children, and a son who let his anger warm his heart.

"Back already?" (Y/N) questioned, back pressed to the wall and one hand beneath the book propped up against his leg. His thumb had been wedged between the two pages, fingers pressed against the cover of the book to keep it from falling. His eyes never left the pages, even as his sister approached the windowsill he had been perched on. 

"You should come see the dragons with me someday, (Y/N)."

"You hate them." 

"They frighten me, is all." Alicent reached over, pushing her brothers' legs off the windowsill and smoothing out the back of her dress as she sat. The only words he could use to describe his sister were graceful and naive. She'd always been a daddy's girl, even more so after the death of their mother. He could do no wrong in her eyes. Something (Y/N) found pitiful. But still, she was his darling sister. 

Delicately folding her hands in her lap, she smiled at him. "Rhaenyra asked about you. She always does."

"Because it is only polite to ask about family when you're with someone, Alicent." Slipping his thumb out from the book, he pressed his fingers against the cover and it snapped shut, a cloud of dust shooting up into the air from the pages. "When I'm with Lord Daris I ask about his sons, even if I find them particularly vexing. It is called manners, Alicent. And Princess Rhaenyra has them."

"Oh, but..." Trailing off, Alicents' lips formed a pout and her shoulders sagged, her attempt at bringing her favorite people together dismissed with one sentence. "I care much for her, and it would bring me much joy to see the both of you getting along."

"You say that as if we fight."

"I say it because you ignore her." 

"I ignore everyone, not just her." 

"(Y/N)-" Alicent stopped herself, shutting her eyes and inhaling deeply. Patience is a virtue, their mother would say. Gently setting his book aside on the drawer beside the window, (Y/N) scooted closer to his sister, leaning over and resting his chin upon her shoulder. He reached out, dipping his hand between hers. Alicent wrapped her fingers around his hand and opened her eyes, pressing her cheek against his head.

"I just miss... I miss Mother, I suppose."

"I miss her too," Alicent muttered softly. "But she wouldn't want you to hide in this room forever," Alicent added, lifting a hand to gently caress her brothers' cheek. It was true, that he knew. His mother wouldn't want him grieving her forever. She'd want him to live his life, marry someone he loved, and have many children. But he wanted her there with him, every step of the way. It was unfair, but he supposed life couldn't always be easy.

"Come to the tourney-"

"As if Father would even allow me to miss it." (Y/N) groaned and leaned back, rising from the windowsill and picking the book up from the drawer. "He'll have my head on a pike if I don't show." He grumbled, running his fingers down the cover of the book as he neared the bookshelf. Alicent chuckled and stood as (Y/N) slid the book into the shelf, eyes raking over the rest of the books they had. Marins' books. He'd collected a few, wishing to have as much of his mother as possible. 

"I'm sure you'll find it exciting." Alicent smiled, standing behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her head on his back.

"I promise it'll be worth going."

                    ✶        ✶       ✶       ✶       ✶       ✶

Staring forward at the rows of people before him, (Y/N) had begun to seriously doubt his sister. He found no pleasure in listening to a crowd of fools cheer knights on as they threw each other from horses. But, he supposed her smile when he took a seat beside her made it all worthwhile. He looked back toward his father, meeting his eyes. Otto gave him a nod, showing his approval at his attendance as if he hadn't spent the previous night lecturing him on the importance of attending events as a family unit. 

"Be welcome!" King Viserys began, rising from his seat and smiling widely. For a man his age, he had the energy and joy of a child. "I know many of you have traveled long leagues to be at these games. But I promise you will not be disappointed! When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equals in our histories." He continued, even as his daughter hurried past the seated children and took her seat beside Alicent. Fashionably late, one could say. "And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news that I am happy to share. Queen Aemma has begun her labors." 

The crowd erupted in cheers and claps and when his father's gaze burned into the back of his skull, (Y/N) clapped as well. "May the luck of the Seven shine on all our combatants!" With that, he finished his speech and the crowd continued cheering as the knights began their rounds. (Y/N) watched absentmindedly, hoping the knights knocked each other out without delay. He'd rather be enjoying the meals and refreshments. 

Strolling up, one of the knights declared, "Princess Rhaenys Targaryen! I would humbly ask for the favor of The Queen Who Never Was." (Y/N) smirked, bowing his head to hide it when Alicent lightly kicked his ankle. Princess Rhaenys approached the knight and slipped her token down his lance, amusement etched all over her face. 

"Good fortune to you, cousin!"

"I would gladly take it if I thought I needed it." The knight grinned back at her, moving away when Rhaenys turned and headed back to her seat. 

While his sister and her friend gossiped, (Y/N) watched the two knights get into positions before racing toward one another. Perhaps Rhaenys cousin should've taken her good fortune, seeing as he had been knocked off his horse rather roughly. Criston Cole, if he'd heard Rhaenyra correctly, proved to be rather good at the game. The remaining knights lined up and Prince Daemon began making his rounds before ultimately making his choice, a choice that made (Y/N) shift uncomfortably in his seat. 

"For his first challenge, Prince Daemon Targaryen chooses Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown, eldest son of the Hand of the King!" Alicent placed her elbow on the armrest, hand lifting up to her lips, the anxiety on her face clear as day. (Y/N) would've loved to be optimistic as he loved all his brothers and believed in them. But going against Prince Daemon almost always resulted in blood being spilled. (Y/N) watched closely as his brother and Daemon ran at each other, his body relaxing when Gwayne successfully broke Daemon's shield. But the round wasn't over yet. And (Y/N)s' thoughts proved to be right as Daemon pointed his lance at the legs of Gwaynes' horse, bringing both his brother and his horse crumbling to the ground. 

"Fuck.." (Y/N) muttered. Blood dripped down the side of his older brothers' head and Gwayne was quickly dragged off out of sight. Alicents' breathing quickened and she glanced back at their father, pressing her lips together. 

"He'll be alright, Ali." (Y/N) whispered soothingly. "Gwayne's stubborn. He'll be walking it off by the end of the day." Alicent swallowed and took a few deep breaths, calming herself and shaking away the bloody image of her brother from her mind. Daemon smugly approached next and Rhaenyra stood up with Alicent right on her heels. 

"Nicely done, Uncle." Rhaenyra praised, leaning against the railing to look down at him.

"Thank you, Princess." Daemon shifted his gaze onto Alicent. His father had surely said or done something to irritate the prince, but then again, Daemon had always hated Otto. Not that (Y/N) could blame him. "Now, I'm fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favor would all but assure it." Tilting his lance toward Alicent, he grinned. Rhaenyra turned her head, eyes following Alicent as the brunette retrieved her token. Her eyes, however, shifted on (Y/N) and her gaze lingered on him until he looked in her direction. Daemon smirked, gaze trained on his niece until Alicent slid her token down his lance.

"Good luck, Prince Daemon." Alicent smiled and returned to her seat with Rhaenyra, excitedly clapping her hands.

The game went on, fights breaking out between winners and the enraged losers. Something that had certainly become a tradition during tourneys. The crowd cheered the brutality, only growing louder with each drop of blood that got spilled. They didn't care for the knights that got their heads bashed in, their blood and brains coating the earth. They didn't weep for the lives that were lost over a mere game. They didn't care to check on the children present, the ones who watched the carnage in fear.

King's landing. His home, his safe haven... His hell, his cage. A place he'd be bound to, no matter how far he went.

"Ser Criston Cole will now tilt against Ser Daemon Targaryen, prince of the city!" The two men stared each other down as they got in positions, wasting no time in charging at each other, withholding nothing as shields were broken. The second time around, Criston Cole's lance made direct contact, and Daemon was knocked off his horse, dragging along until his horse reached the other end. Seething with rage, Daemon called for a sword whilst Criston Cole retrieved his flail and the two men went at it again, swinging their weapons and blocking with their shields, knocking each other down just to get right back up again. It would've been admirable if it weren't over a tourney out of all things.

Successfully knocking Ser Criston Cole down, Daemon turned away from his opponent and lifted his arms, soaking in the cheers, too preoccupied with his gloating to notice Criston Cole rising from his fallen position. With a swift swing of his flail, Daemon was knocked down, arm pinned. Without bringing his flail down on the prince, Criston got him to yield, taking the spot as the winner. Approaching the stands and taking off his helmet, he revealed his Dornish features and stared up at the princess, panting softly.

"I was hoping to ask for the Princess's favor." He called up and Rhaenyra retrieved her wreath with a smirk, tossing it down to the man.

"I wish you luck, Ser Criston." 

"Are you quite serious?"

"Indeed." The sound of his father's voice took his attention off the girls, making (Y/N) turn in his seat to look at his father as he gathered the lords of the council. The grim look on Otto's face as he looked at Rhaenyra spoke volumes. The same grim, pitiful look the maesters had given (Y/N) the night his mother had passed. Watching the lords disappear down the steps, (Y/N) frowned and looked back toward his sister, watching Alicent whisper reassurances to the girl who knew her mother did not make it. Rising from their chairs, the wives of the lords spoke amongst themselves before hesitantly leaving as well. 

"Come on, Alicent." (Y/N) murmured, standing and touching his sisters' shoulder. 

"But-"

"We should head back inside. The Princess's father will call on her soon." (Y/N) reminded and Alicent sighed, gently taking Rhaenyras' hand. The Targaryen clenched her jaw, lips twitching as she fought back tears. 

"Oh, Rhaenyra..." Alicent breathed and wrapped an arm around her friend, gingerly pulling the girl up from her seat and leading her out with her brother trailing behind. It wasn't his place to comfort someone he barely knew, much less a princess who happened to be a Targaryen. The most he could do was wait for the funeral and extend his condolences. Because losing a loving mother felt like losing a heart. One felt it in their bones. On a rainy night when his mother had passed, he'd felt a coldness wash over him, as if she were hugging him one last time before departing. His sweet mother. The woman who had given him life. The woman who had cried and laughed when she saw her two little ones side by side. The woman who comforted him when his father did not. The woman who fell suddenly ill and was rarely visited by her busy husband. (Y/N) remembered her face each time Otto didn't visit when she requested. How she wanted to weep but refused to in front of her children.

King's Landing had lost their queen, but Rhaenyra had lost her mother, and she hadn't even been there to properly say goodbye. It'd be a pain she'd carry until she died. A pain the Hightower children knew all too well.

So when Rhaenyra's father finally allowed her into the bedchamber, Alicent buried her face in her brothers' chest as Rhaenyra's muffled cries escaped past the walls and echoed down the halls. Wrapping an arm around his sister's shoulders, the two made their way to their fathers' bedchambers. Alicent wept into the palms of her hands while (Y/N) ran his fingers through her long brown hair, letting her release her sadness.

"Poor Rhaenyra." Alicent sniffled, using a handkerchief to wipe away her tears. 

"She'll need you now more than ever, no matter what Father may say." Alicent blinked, shiny dark eyes looking at her brother, brows furrowing as she took in his words. 

"What?"

"Father-" Clamping his mouth shut and turning toward the door as their father entered the room, (Y/N) removed his hand from Alicents' hair and lowered his gaze onto his lap. The older man sighed upon noticing his daughters' state.

"What happened today is a tragedy indeed. No child should go through such a thing." Otto sighed. "Both Princess Rhaenyra and King Viserys' will need us more than ever. We grieve the loss of both Queen Aemma... and Prince Baelon." Alicent gasped, covering her mouth, Rhaenyras' name falling from her lips. The heir King Viserys had so desperately wanted had been the very one to result in the death of his beloved wife. 

"How's Gwayne?" (Y/N) asked quietly, lifting his head to look at his father. His brother had likely been the least of Otto's concerns given the circumstances.

"He has a mild head injury. A day's rest and he'll be well enough to return to Oldtown." Some good news in the midst of the chaos. The last thing the Hightowers needed was to bury another one of their own, and (Y/N) was sure his mother could wait a few more years for one of her children to join her.

The funeral, like all funerals, had been quiet and solemn. King Viserys stared blankly at the wrapped corpses, never once looking toward his teary-eyed daughter, even when she stared at him pleadingly. With Syrax looming over the hill, the she-dragon only moved closer when her rider commanded her, blowing fire onto the bodies and putting an end to the funeral and cementing the reality of Queen Aemmas death. As they headed back to the castle, (Y/N) felt dread bubbling in his stomach at the calculating look on his fathers' face. Among many things, Otto Hightower was an opportunist, and (Y/N) knew whatever he had planned couldn't be good.

Staring into the fireplace, (Y/N) listened to the scraping of pen meeting paper. His father wrote swiftly, still reeling from what he had described as a disappointing meeting with the council. That could only mean someone had evoked King Viserys' wrath, not that he ever truly followed through with his threats. Tilting his head toward his father, he watched him hand the letter over to the maester, quietly instructing him as Alicent entered the room. 

"My darling," Otto cooed, enveloping her in a hug and kissing the top of her head. He extended an arm for (Y/N) to join them, but his son merely stared at him, features hardening. His rejection only made Otto sigh. He pulled back to peer down at his daughter, tenderly stroking the side of her head.

"I found myself thinking of your own mother today." He murmured. 

"How is His Grace?" 

"Very low. Which is why I sent for you." Otto detached himself from his daughter, meeting his son's glare for a second before he took a seat as his desk, leaning back to address his daughter. "I thought you might go to him, offer him comfort." 

"In his chambers?" Alicent questioned, swallowing when Otto quirked a brow. Looking down, she anxiously brought a hand to her lips, nipping at the skin around her thumb. A habit she'd fallen into after the death of their mother. "I wouldn't know what to say."

"Stop that." Otto scolded softly and Alicent dropped her arm to her side, lowering her head further. "He'll be glad of a visitor. I'm sure your brother wouldn't mind keeping an eye on Princess Rhaenyra while you tend to her father." It wasn't a suggestion. It was a demand. One he expected his twins to follow. Alicents' trembling lips pulled into a small smile and she nodded, glancing at her brother before she turned toward the door. 

"You might wear one of your mothers' dresses." Alicent stopped, lingering by the door and looking back toward her brother. She pressed her lips together and looked forward once more, leaving the room. (Y/N) waited until her footsteps disappeared down the hall before stepping toward his father's desk.

"When will it be enough for you, Father? Why must you use us to get what you want?" 

"I'm doing this for us," Otto responded cooly, dipping his pen into ink. He wrote a few words on the paper before looking up at his son.

"And if you care for this family, you'll do as I say."

[milliedazzledust]

Wicked Games (Geralt of Rivia imagine)

Request: Could you please write reader traveling with him and flirting with Geralt all the time, but he doesn’t seem to care, until one day reader starts flirting with someone else and he is, like, super jealous?

Words: 2.2k

Warning: No smut but mature content

A/N: this is set during season 2 of The Witcher, but don't worry if you haven't watched it yet, this is spoiler free! - Enjoy! :)

“How long is this journey going to be again ?”

Perched on Roach’s back, the woman kept bickering to annoy her guardian. She had met Geralt a couple of days prior in Gors Velen where the Witcher had been called to kill a Striga. The villagers believed the monster to be Y/N and ordered her head to be delivered on a pike. Had it been anyone else than Geralt there, she probably wouldn’t be alive anymore. Even after the beast was slaughtered, Y/N was still accused of witchcraft and the poor woman was found guilty before she could prove her innocence. Geralt had helped her flee town and had offered his protection until she was safe from retribution.

“Long enough” The Witcher responded.

“What does that even mean ?” She complained. “We’ve been on the road for almost two weeks”

Keeping his eyes on the lookout as he walked beside his horse, he grunted in annoyance.

“We’re almost there” Was all she got.

“And where exactly is that ?” She pushed.

He didn’t answer right away but nudged his chin toward a destination she couldn’t yet see.

“Kaer Morhen” He grumbled. “My home”

She stared down at him in surprise. “Should I be scared ?”

“That’s a question you should’ve asked yourself two weeks ago” He smirked.

“Well, to be honest, the alternative would’ve consisted on me being burned alive on a stick” She grimaced as the vivid picture of that torture appeared in her mind.

The man abruptly stopped walking and slowly turned to look up at her.

“I wouldn’t have let that happen” He assured her.

She flashed him a pleasant smile.

“Should I start calling you my knight in charming armor now ?” She playfully stated.

A rumble of irritation left his chest in the form of a grunt and he chose to ignore her. He shook his head when his attitude made her laugh and pulled on Roach’s harness to make him move.

She took advantage of his focus on the forest around them to look at him for the billionth time. She bit her lips as her eyes trailed down his body. The man was built like a mountain. His armor fitted him so perfectly she could outline the shape of his broad shoulders. Everything in his demeanor was oozing power, danger, yet she felt perfectly safe.

The Witcher could sense her gaze on him, but didn’t say a word. She didn’t see his smirk, he didn’t interpret the goosebumps on her arms for anything else than the result of the cold wind.

“What the hell” He heard her curse under her breath in disbelief when the castle he grew up in was finally visible.

As they reached the gate, he helped her step down from the horse. As she left her feet in the stirrup, he grabbed her hips and effortlessly put her on solid ground. His hands stayed longer than they should have on her body and she exhaled a shaky breath when her eyes landed on his.

“Are you alright ?” His tenor was honey to her ear.

“I’m… What?” She hated the way he was capable of taking her by surprise.

“Your ankle” He smirked, reminding her of the injury that had led her to ride on Roach’s back.

“Oh! Oh!” He was trying very hard to hide his amusement. “Well I might need a little help walking”

When he leaned toward her, she thought for a second he might kiss her. Instead he gently brushed his lips to her earlobe.

“I can do something about that” He murmured in a low voice.

She couldn’t hide the violent shiver and was left dumbfounded when he handed her a wooden stick to use as a crutch. Just like that, the annoyance was back. “You’re the worst, Geralt” She retorted with attitude.

“And you’re my mission, Y/N” He said, tilting his head to the side with a smile and taking a step back to put some distance between them. “Do not forget about that”

“I couldn’t even if I tried” She muttered under her breath, not waiting for him to set foot inside the enormous castle. She took the time to look around and was bemused by the beauty of the place. She found herself in what seemed to be the Great Hall - heated by a fire pit which also produced enough light to brighten the large room. The only decorations were the tables and a tree arboring several medallions. There was a gloomy aura lurking in the air, even she could feel it.

“And what do we have here ?” She heard a voice speaking behind her.

She turned around to face a man she had never seen. There was no resemblance to Geralt, apart from the necklace they both wore. The stranger wasn’t as muscular or tall, but still handsome nonetheless.

“Y/N” She introduced herself.

He eyed her curiously before taking her hand to softly kiss it.

“Welcome to Kaer Morhen, Y/N” He offered a flirtatious smile. “I am Eskel” He seemed very satisfied when he noticed her embarrassment. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here ?”

“She’s with me” Geralt loudly grumbled, looking everything like a menacing wolf when he walked into the room.

The stranger laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “I was just saying hello, brother”

“Like hell you were” He groaned. “C’mon, Y/N, I’ll show you to your room”

“This is gonna be fun” Eskel chuckled. “Just wait until the others meet her”

And he was right. The same day, she was introduced to Vesemir and all of Geralt’s brothers, each of them taking a strange interest in the woman. She had offered to cook dinner as a gesture to thank them, which they had been eager to accept.

The following days were spent quietly, either exploring the land on the back of a horse or taking care of the food. Geralt barely spoke to her. He came almost every night to check on her injury but never dared to stay too long. They would exchange glances at the table, she would fake to read a book beside him while he trained but they would both ignore the obvious attraction between them.

On a particular night, Eskel decided to bring female company. He planned a whole party and specifically asked Y/N to dress up, which the woman did. She was brought a beautiful gown that she knew wouldn’t leave her favorite Witcher impartial.

The effect was instantaneous when she walked inside the Great Hall. Before she could even take a step, Geralt forcefully grabbed her arm to stop her.

“What exactly are you wearing ?” He touched the fabric, his soft fingers in striking opposition to his animosity.

“Don’t you like it ?” She smirked.

She saw him visibly gulp and was more than satisfied to notice the effect she had on him.

“I can see your leg, Y/N” He said, referring to the split of her dress on the side.

“Exactly” She patted his chest in fake comfort and tilted her head. “That’s the whole point”

“Fuck” He grumbled under his breath. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain control of himself. “You look…”

“I know” She shrugged and leaned closer to him. Raising her head, she sniggered and barely pressed her lips to his before whispering. “But don’t you go and forget I’m only your mission, Witcher”

She playfully winked at him and left him there on the spot, joining the others to the party.

“Fuck” He mumbled once again, this time under his breath.

His eyes turned black as he watched his brother Eskel sneaking his arm around her waist. Whatever he whispered in her ear made her laugh and Geralt couldn’t help but feel infuriated. He could see the side glance she was giving him and knew exactly she was playing with him. Her plan was working and the Witcher was boiling inside. He didn’t even try to mingle, only sat with a glass of their strongest alcohol, keeping his eyes on her.

Seeing the woman leaning onto his brother after whatever joke he had told her was his breaking point. He noisily discarded his glass on the table and unexpectedly stood up to leave the room. He had had enough of her teasing.

She waited a little before following him. She knew where he had disappeared. There was only one place in the castle where Geralt hid to take away his frustration; the training room.

She leaned onto the wall and stared at him from afar. Welding his sword, he hit every target with violence and strength. Sweat was glistening from his face as he worked out, each strike more powerful than the last one. She let out a small gasp as her eyes flickered to his arms. She could see the outline of his veins each time his grip tightened around his sword. The sight was enough to make her knees wobble.

“You’re not supposed to be here” He finally noticed her presence.

“Neither are you”

“I needed the training” He simply explained.

“Why ?” She rose and took a couple of steps toward him. His eyes landed on her leg once again, uncovered by her piece of clothing. She walked like a predator closing in on its prey.

Before she was even in front of him she could hear the groan escaping his lips.

“Y/N” He pleaded with her.

“Geralt” She called back playfully.

He closed his eyes for a second and turned back, ignoring the woman.

“You should get back to my brother”

She chuckled. “What ?”

“You two seem to get along just fine”

“Well, he’s nice”

She didn’t miss the way his chest rose at her words. He was frustrated and she could see it.

“What are you still doing here, then ?” He growled at her. “Go back to flirting with him”

She couldn’t see his face as he busied himself to sharpen his sword with a rock. She closed the distance and gently let her fingers trailed down his arm.

“I’m not flirting with you brother, Geralt” She whispered.

“Could’ve fooled me”

She laughed as he resumed his action, getting irritated by the second.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re doing a pretty lousy job hiding your jealousy” She smirked.

“I’m not jealous” He weakly defended himself.

“Good” She breathed as her hand clasped around his wrist to stop his movement. “Because what I really want is right here in front of me”

Before she could react, he swiftly turned around, one hand grabbing her wrist, the other closing on her jaw. She gasped at the abruptness of his action. She could hear his breathing getting heavier but none of them moved. He studied the woman with hard eyes when she bit her bottom lip. Excitement and anticipation were leaving an electrifying taste in the air. His thumb pleasingly stroked her cheek and he decided right there to go against his better judgment.

He pulled her to him and planted his lips over hers for a long and hard kiss. The low growl escaping his chest did nothing to help her arousal. She gasped softly when his kisses trailed down her neck, leaving bruises that would be visible enough for everyone to see who she belonged to. His possessive nature was sending her into a frenzy, so much she couldn’t help but moan when he forced her body to arch against his. She started to unbutton his shirt but his hands grabbed her wrists to stop her movements. She felt somehow rejected by him but quickly recovered when he slipped his arm around her waist.

“Don’t get me wrong” He started breathlessly. “There is nothing more I’d like than to undress you, but not here, not when someone could walk in”

He smirked when her body shuddered under his words.

“Your body is only for me to see” He positively declared.

“You can’t say shit like this to me, Geralt” She whispered.

“After what you just pulled tonight, you’re in no position to negotiate sweetheart”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that” She sniggered.

He eyed her curiously, waiting for her to elaborate.

“I wasn’t sure how this evening would end to be honest, but you exceeded all my expectations.” She expressed playfully. “Though I do feel obligated to mention I am not wearing anything under this dress”

Her body could have disintegrated from the simple change of color in his pupils as his hand lowered to the split of her dress, feeling nothing but her skin under his fingers.

“Tell me exactly how you thought I would react knowing you were naked underneath this dress standing next to my brother” He growled in fury.

“If I remember correctly, you said I was only your mission” She reminded him in a low voice.

“Is that why you seduced my brother ?”

“I laugh at a joke, Geralt” She rolled her eyes “Beside, he was nicer”

He frowned and tightened his hold around her body. “You’re mine, Y/N” He barked with violence.

She gave him a smug look and looped her fingers through his belt to unfasten it.

“I think we should put that statement to the test” She raised an eyebrow in challenge. “After all, I couldn’t trust you with the first one”

As soon as the words left her mouth, he carried the woman over his shoulders, making her squeal. Once he was sure his grip would prevent her from falling, he marched with determination to his bedroom, grumbling under his breath as she laughed at her caveman. If she could be certain of one thing, it was that Geralt would take his sweet time proving his point.

[forever-rogue]

hi! i love your fics so much and always know i can come here when i need some comfort…which i am in need of. i went on a first date yesterday and was told today that he “had another relationship in progress” and with that and job hunting i just keep feeling unwanted. i was wondering if i could request a fic where marcus p comforts his secretly-in-love-with-each-other best friend reader? thank you so much!! 💜💜💜

AN | It’s been a minute since I’ve written some Marcus and…here we are! I hope you all know how wonderful and amazing you are! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 1.9k

Masterlist | PP Characters, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Good morning sunshine,” the cup of coffee and bagel that were dropped in front of you on your crowded desk caught you off guard and you almost jumped out of your chair. The warm laugh that met your ears made you feel the slightest bit better, as you looked up and allowed yourself to look at his handsome face, “should I even bother to ask how you are?”

“G’morning,” you mustered up the closest semblance of a smile that you could manage as he just grinned at you. If he thought you were sunshine, he must have been all of the stars combined, “didn’t sleep well last night is all.”

“Oh,” his smile wavered for a moment before he quickly recovered, “I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe you could duck out a little early and get a nap. I’m sure the boss won’t mind.”

“Thanks Marcus,” your face warmed at your boss’ little wink and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making any sounds, “you’re the best. Best boss and friend.”

“I try,” he took a sip of his own coffee before realization hit him, “hey - your date was last night! How did that go?”

“Umm,” you had been dreading this very moment. You knew he would eventually remember to ask, but you hadn’t planned on volunteering any information. He beat you to the punch. You picked at a bit of your bagel before shrugging lightly, “it went. Fine. Yeah…just fine.”

“Fine?” he parroted, perching himself at the edge of your desk as you just nodded, “doesn’t seem fine. You were excited to go out with him - what happened?”

“Marcus,” you bit your lip and leaned back in your chair before sighing heavily, “he basically told me that he wasn’t looking for anything serious right now. Which is fine enough, we’d never discussed whether it would be serious or casual or whatever. But then he told me that he basically already had another relationship that was just starting and he wanted that to be serious, and then basically said he’d only want to hook up. So, yeah. That was that.”

“Sweetheart, that’s-”

“Surprisingly not the worst date I’ve been on,” you admitted with a bitter laugh before blinking at the stinging in your eyes, “it’s just…it’s my fault for not asking sooner but I feel like that’s something he should have said as well, right? I dunno…it would just be nice to be someone’s first choice for once. It sounds so stupid - and whiney - and I don’t know. It is what it is. I’m sorry for rambling, Marcus. I shouldn’t bother you with my problems like this.”

“It’s not a bother - you are never a bother. And second, I want you to tell me all of this stuff,” he insisted softly, “you’re my…best friend. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that happened. I know you were looking forward to that date.”

“Thank you,” you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before pulling yourself back together, “well, that’s another frog that didn’t turn out to be a prince. On to the next one…eventually.”

“Hey,” he seemed nervous suddenly and you looked at him expectantly. It wasn’t like him to be shy and reserved, at least not with you, “w-what are you -”

Before he could say anything further, the phone at your desk began ringing shrilly. He closed his eyes, exhaling sharply as you offered him an apologetic look before moving to grab the call. You moved a small sorry as he just nodded, moving away from your desk, but not before casting a quick glance back at you. You didn’t even notice, already too wrapped up in your call. 

“Get it together Pike,” he chastised himself as he made the trek across the floor to his own office. He was sure this was the time he was going to ask you on a date and actually make sure you knew it was a date, and not just friends spending time together. He’d only been trying to do so for the last…four years? Fuck, how had it become four years without him making a move on you? You, the woman that had managed to capture his heart and soul. But now, he realized, he was going to need to make a move or you’d be lost to him forever. Eventually someone was going to come along and treat you right, and he was determined to be the one, “just do it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were about halfway through a pint of ice cream, watching your newest trash tv obsession - and thoroughly judging their petty little problems - when a knock came at your apartment door. Tossing the spoon back into the container, you sighed heavily and debated ignoring the knocking. You couldn’t even think of who it would be at this time of evening; you certainly weren’t expecting anyone…

“Coming,” you put on your slippers before trudging to the door, opening it without checking to see who it was. Which, in hindsight, was probably a bad idea, but the thought hadn’t even occurred to you. But your surprise - and delight - there was Marcus on the other side of the door, “hi Marcus. I wasn’t expecting you…please tell me I didn’t forget movie night…”

“No,” he shook his head with a small little huff of laughter, sticking his hands into his pockets nervously. He was still wearing his suit, clearly having worked late and come straight from the office, “I just…wanted to come see you.”

“What’s the matter? Did something happen?” you motioned towards his suit and he shook his head. You reached for his hand and pulled him inside and into the warm, gently shutting the door behind him, “do you want hot chocolate or anything? Coffee? A drink?”

“No, thank you,” he leaned against the counter and you raised your eyebrow at him, “I need to talk to you.”

“Me?” Now it was your turn to be nervous but he eased any worries by shaking his head, “is everything alright, Marcus? You seem…off.”

“You told me about your date,” the reminder caused you to frown but you nodded anyway, “and I hate the fact that it was awful for you. Because you deserve the best - everything. The fact that your date didn’t work out made me happy - not because of your disappointment but because it means…it means I might still have a shot with you.”

“A shot with me?” you looked at him with wide eyes and his cheeks flushed a brilliant red before he gave you a small nod. Your mind was positively reeling at his little confession, and you were sure that you had heard him incorrectly, “what do you mean?”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” his words held no malice as your eyes grew wide and nervous. He seemed to calm down after a few moments as you willed him to say those words you had been desperate to hear for so long. It seemed like a dream come true; never in a million years had you thought that Marcus Pike, not only your best friend but also your boss, would feel that way about you. You’d been harboring a crush on him for what seemed like an eternity now, dreaming that one day he would be your prince among the endless sea of frogs.

“Marcus?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“I…oh, wait. What?” you looked at him in confusion and he laughed, unsure if he should be nervous or happy. He could practically see the gears turning in your head as you tried to make sense of what he’d said, “what do you mean, you’re in love with me? Like…you love me? Do you mean it? I don’t want you to ever say just because."

"I'm not, sweetheart. I mean it -"

"Because I really like you, Marcus. And I'm in love with you. I think I have been for a long time. Probably since we first met. And I've been looking for what I have with you in so many others but nothing has ever come close. That's how I knew-"

"Sweetheart."

"And I've been wanting to ask you out for a long time, but just couldn't do it," you were speaking so rapidly, waving your hands around that you completely missed the way Marcus was watching you with nothing short of pure adoration, "and if this is just some sort of pity thing or you don't really want me, just say it. I don't think I could ever handle being heartbroken by you. Anyone else, I'd live, but never of it was you."

Before you could ramble on any further, Marcus took the chance in your quietness and tenderly put his hand on your cheek before leaning in to brush his lips against yours. That managed to silence you, your nervous rambles cut off and the thoughts swirling around your mind turned into static. Holy fuck. Marcus was really kissing you. 

And he was good at it; it felt so right. It felt like you’d been doing this for eons before. It took a few moments before your brain caught up to what was happening, and once it did, you almost pushed him off of you. You made a small sound as you looked at him with wide eyes. 

“You kissed me,” you stated the obvious as your glance drifted from his eyes to his lips and back. He looked amused and nodded, “why?”

“I thought it might get you to calm down,” he grinned, “you were rambling. And I wanted you to know that I felt the exact same about you. You’ve been it for me for a long time.”

“Oh,” the corners of your mouth quirked up into a small smile, “oh. I never would have thought that you felt the same. I might have asked you out…or just kept pining after you.”

“We were never just friends, were we?” he gently brushed a few locks of hair out of your face, before stroking his thumb over your cheek, “maybe it just took us a while to get there.”

“Yeah,” you leaned into his touch, marveling at how soft his hand was, “will you do it again?”

“Do what?” he asked as you grew sheepish, worrying your bottom lip, “sweetheart?”

“Will you kiss me again?” your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard you loud and clear. 

“Of course,” he nodded, leaning in again so his lips were almost brushing against yours, ��I could do that forever.”

“I hope you do, Marcus Pike,” you grinned before kissing him softly, “I hope you do.”

[honorhearted]

Benjamin grinned in spite of himself. "Am I truly that bad of a husband? Of course, I've never been told otherwise, so I suppose it must be true... Next time I seek to get falsely married, I'll look into honing my craft."

Anne's remark was unsurprising. Royalty, no matter how kind in her case, tended to be more delicate and unaccustomed to the harsher aspects of life. Still, he couldn't help but quip, "Truly? Your husband's guards used to complain about him being a nose-whistler. Are you saying you were able to garner restful sleep with that beside you?"

Oh... Stiffening at his blunder, Benjamin wondered if quips about her departed husband were even welcome. The king was scarcely cold and in the ground (or likely in his case, with his head upon a pike), and mouth growing dry, he apologized, "I'm sorry, I...should not make sport in a time such as this. I suppose I merely wished to serve as a distraction. Forgive me."

Mercifully, the queen seemed intent on their travels. After fetching their few supplies, he followed Anne out into the courtyard towards their mounts.

"A weapon would be a good idea," he affirmed. "If we get separated, it'll be a comfort to know you'll at least have something to defend yourself." Arching a brow, he looked her way with mounting surprise. "Are you saying you are responsible for Rochefort's eye?"

Anne flashed him a beatific smile in return, and stunned, Benjamin watched her mount her own horse without his assistance. She was certainly full of surprises...

"Uh...well, remind me to never say anything untoward while we're dining," he quipped. "I can't believe someone who looks as you do would go right for the eye."

Chuckling in spite of himself, Benjamin hoisted himself up onto his own mount and took hold of the reins. Curious, he added, "Where did you learn such methods, anyway? Surely, not from your perch in the palace?"

Despite her glumness, Benjamin's quip brought a small smile to her lips, and she tugged uncomfortably on the sleeves of a dress. "I'm in a bad mood because I'm stuck with you as my husband," she retorted, teasingly. "But, as it happens, the dress isn't helping matters either," she wrinkled her nose at the coarseness of the material against her skin. Certainly, not fit for a Queen...but that was the point, she supposed.

"Good. I am not sure I can say the same," she admitted. Anne was accustomed to long nights dozing on soft down mattresses under dozens of rich furs, and lazy afternoon siestas in the summer, when the heat grew too strong. At least Benjamin would have his wit's about him.

She was pleased when he agreed with their direction, although her expression clouded as he warned of the dangers. "Perhaps I should carry a weapon," she suggested, as they walked out towards the courtyard, where their borrowed horses were waiting. "I'm rather apt with a knife. Did you ever wonder why Rochefort suddenly started wearing an eye patch? Although, I do believe I used a fork in that instance," she flashed Benjamin a smile, which grew when she considered that - in all likelihood - that monster was now among the dead. Unless, of course, he was behind the attack in the first place...

Effortlessly, she mounted the horse and settled the reins comfortably in her hands. The creature did not compare to her own dear horses, but she seemed to have a sweet enough temperament.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

go on, claim my heart: chapter twelve

see my masterpost for what came before this. inspired by @romeoandjulietyouwish's medieval au.

Vex has only known her half-sister for about twenty minutes, and she already knows that she would strike dead any man who dared harm her as easily as she takes a breath. This girl, who looks too much like Syldor for Vex's liking, is vivacious, inquisitive, personable—all of the things Vex was a child, though those traits were summarily stamped out in these very halls. They seem to have been encouraged in Velora, however, a fact that stirs both relief and jealousy in Vex, though ultimately she is just enamored with this child's joie de vivre. She can't take her eyes off of Velora as she bounces around the parlor, demanding Scanlan play her a song on his lute before running over to Grog and asking to sit on his mountainous shoulders.

It is up on those very shoulders that Velora is perched, tracing the tattoos on Grog's bald head and asking how he got them, when they are joined by a woman Vex has not seen in many years. Blond hair is twisted into a chignon at the base of her skull, and her long, pointed ears are adorned with all manner of jewelry. She peers into the parlor with confusion on her face.

"Mama!" Devana looks up in alarm at the sight of her daughter treating Grog like a tree to be climbed. "Look who I met!"

Vex sees the desire for propriety competing with worry on Devana's face, so she calls out, "Grog, why don't you bring Velora back down to earth?"

Pouting, Grog reaches a hand up to grab Velora by the scruff of her dress and lower her down. Velora then runs up to hug her mother's leg. "They're really nice, Mama."

"That's wonderful, dear." Devana smiles shyly at Vex. "Hello, Vex'ahlia."

Vex nods. "Devana." She has little quarrel with her father's wife. Devana is too passive for Vex's tastes, too willing to let Syldor run his household with an iron fist, but she herself has never shown any outward hostility or unkindness toward the twins, even when they arrived unannounced and homeless on her door all those years ago. If anything, Vex doubts that she and her brother would have lasted in Syngorn as long as they did without her gentle presence offsetting their father's ire.

"I wasn't aware you would be visiting, dear. I could have had something special planned."

Velora cranes her neck back to look up at her mother. "They came to meet with Daddy, Mama. That's where Vax'ildan is." She is clearly proud to be in possession of such insider knowledge.

Devana frowns. "Vax is meeting with your father?" There's apprehension in the question, and rightfully so; Vex can only take the fact that the house is still standing as a positive indication that they two have not yet come to blows.

"Our arrival was unannounced because we regretfully come with terrible news, and the request for a favor." Vex pauses, looking at Velora. She is so sweet, this little girl, so innocent to the darker parts of life, and she does not want to have this conversation in front of her.

Devana notices Vex's hesitation, and says to Velora, "Sweetheart, why don't you go get your favorite toy to show Vex'ahlia? I think she'll find it very interesting."

Velora's eyes light up. "Yes! I'll be right back." And with that, she tears out of the parlor, leaving her mother to close the door behind her.

"I hope she wasn't a bother," Devana says, crossing the room to sit across from Vex and Pike. Percy stands from where he had been sitting on the tea table and walks behind Vex, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Of course not!" Pike says. "She's a delight, honestly."

"Oh, gods, sorry." Vex gestures to each of her compatriots. "Devana, this is Pike Trickfoot, Mistress of Divinity of the Ashari Nation. Those are Scanlan Shorthalt and Grog Strongjaw, and this..." Her eyes fall briefly to the hand on her shoulder. "This is Lord Percival de Rolo, Master of Development."

Devana's brows knit together in confusion. "De Rolo? We were told the entire de Rolo family was lost some years ago."

The fingers tighten. "Yes," Percy says, voice neutral, toneless. "That is a...misconception."

"I see. Well, not that I am not happy to meet you all, but I am confused why such a large Ashari delegation is here, in our home, rather than up at the citadel speaking with the High Warden."

Vex realizes now how stupid they were to go to Syldor first. Of course he does not want to help them, of course this petty, cruel man would refuse to give aid simply to punish Vax for his perceived wrongdoings. But Devana is different. Devana is far more compassionate than her godsforsaken husband, and if they had approached him with her on their side, that initial conversation would surely have gone much differently.

"We are here because we are beseeching Syldor for aid," Vex explains. "You know that Vax has married the princess of the Ashari Nation, do you not?"

Devana nods with a smile. "I heard. I am most happy for him. I was not able to meet Princess Keyleth during her stay here in Syngorn, but I heard she is a most admirable leader indeed. I also heard that the two of them recently had a child. Such wonderful news."

Vex swallows thickly. "Yes, well, that child is why we are here. A few nights ago...a few nights ago Vilya, my niece, was taken from her cradle in the middle of the night." Both of Devana's hands fly up to cover her shocked mouth. "We believe we know the culprits behind the kidnapping, and we are on our way to them now, but we could use Syldor's help in defeating them, help he is, it would seem, unwilling to give."

As Vex predicted, storm clouds form in Devana's pale eyes. "He is refusing to help Vax retrieve his child?" Vex nods. "Well, we'll see about that."

Without another word, Devana stands and strides purposefully from the room. Pike gapes at Grog and Scanlan, who seem just as bewildered as she is, but Vex can barely contain her satisfied smirk. She quickly follows her stepmother, urging the others to do the same. They trail Devana back in the direction of Syldor's study, and Vex's jaw drops when she slams the door open, not bothering to knock. "Syldor?"

Vex skids into the doorway to see her father at his desk, clearly startled by his wife's forcible entrance. "Devana, what is the matter?"

She comes to stand just before him, arms crossed angrily. "Am I to understand that you are to let your granddaughter, Velora's niece, linger in the possession of kidnappers, rather than provide the assistance needed to secure her rescue?"

Syldor's face melts into annoyance, and he leans to peer around Devana at Vex. "If you had waited to hear from me directly, rather than tattle to my wife like a child, you would know that your brother and I have reached an agreement." He gestures to parchment on the desk in front of him and says to Devana, "I am writing to Lord Celindar now to request any and all information we possess on the Lord and Lady Briarwood as well as the current state of affairs in Whitestone, where Vax and Princess Keyleth believe their child to be held. After that, I had planned on instructing our staff to prepare rooms for our...guests for the evening, as well as food and supplies for their further journey in the morning." He sweeps a hand out to his right, and Vex has to step in and crane her neck to see her brother and sister-in-law beside each other on a settee, each looking up from a book in their laps. "More research is being done in the meantime." He smiles up at Devana, though it doesn't reach his eyes. "Is all of this to your satisfaction, my love?"

Devana's imperious posture loosens. "Oh. Well. Good." She crosses the study to sit across from Vax and begins murmuring low to him. Vex sees a soft, grateful smile appear on her brother's face; he always had a soft spot for Devana, even when things in this house were at their worst.

Vex approaches her father's desk, leans down on the wood. "What is the catch?" she hisses, too low for Devana to hear.

Her father narrows her eyes at her. "The catch is I want you gone in the morning, never to return. Can you manage it?"

The words with ease bubble to her lips, but after the last half hour she's had, after Velora, she doesn't know if she can make such a promise. "Were you ever going to tell us about her?"

He doesn't need to ask to whom she's referring. "No."

It is as if he's stuck a knife deep into her gut. "You would keep her siblings from her?"

"I would keep your influence from her, yes. She does not need to be tainted by your..." He doesn't finish the sentence, but he doesn't have to. Vex is keenly aware of all her perceived shortcomings, all of the pieces of herself and of her brother that her father wishes to keep far from the child he actually cares for.

She grits her teeth and shoves off of the desk, stalking back toward the door, where Percy and the others hover awkwardly. She has a mission now. If they only have one night in this house, Vex is going to spend it influencing Velora as much as she possibly can.

.

The Ashari group is granted a collection of rooms on the northern end of the Vessar estate, with a suite of attendants to see to them—and, Percy suspects, to watch for any activity that the master of the house might find unsavory. There is a parlor in this part of the house that they use as their study room, with every horizontal surface piled high with books on vampires, necromancy, and the undead, as well as some resources on Whitestone kindly delivered by a contact of Syldor's within the Syngornian military. They divide the reading, and Percy can only hope that no one notices how eagerly he leaps to read every scrap of paper with information about his home on it.

Throughout the day and long into the night they study, strewn across soft armchairs and sofas and even the ground with their noses pressed to parchment—at least, this is the case for most of them. Grog, for whom reading has never been a particular talent, has been tasked with organizing their weapons and supplies for the road ahead, as well as entertaining an extremely curious Velora whenever she's edging into the realm of distraction. Scanlan falls asleep atop a text on the history of vampires in Tal'dorei, and the twins are easily pulled away from their own reading by a litany of questions and observations from their half-sister—particularly Vex, he notices, who seems all too eager to show Velora how exciting it is to use a bow and arrow.

Percy finds all of it easy to tune out, however, when he's mired in the recent state of affairs in Whitestone. He has long been aware that the story known far and wide is that illness took his family, and that the benevolent Briarwoods, old friends of the de Rolo family, took up the care of Whitestone when the city was left leaderless. Sovereign Korrin, as far as Percy knows, is the only world leader who is aware that this is a lie, and it is a lie he has kept to himself in order to protect Percy, who arrived in Zephrah when he was just a boy.

But Percy is no longer a boy, a terrified child who sees swathes of blood on stone floors whenever he closes his eyes. He is of age to take up the charge his family left behind, and more importantly, he is more than capable of destroying those who took his family from him. He can only hope that somewhere in these books and scrolls is the answer to defeating the undead, because tomorrow he marches for Whitestone not just to save his best friend's child, but to exact justice and revenge in the de Rolo name.

[thatslikely]

passenger seat - s.s.

passenger seat - stiles stilinski x fem!reader

warnings: eating food, pure fluff

word count: 1.3k

a/n: I blame ocean for getting me hooked on teen wolf and loving stiles ! ugh this man....

The interior of Stiles’ CJ5 wasn’t exactly comfortable.

Sure, the seats’ upholstery was somewhat pliable, sinking slightly when you climbed into the passenger seat eagerly. And yeah, the muddy mats lining the floor of the jeep weren’t the worst thing to rest the soles of your soft socks on.

But the dash was solid metal, a conductor that never failed to scorch your skin on steaming summer afternoons and nearly turn the tips of your fingers purple on a snow-speckled winter day. In addition to that, some days, whenever the Jeep chose to spite you, the seatbelt slung across your chest would jam, trapping you in the robin-egg colored vehicle.

Without fail, though, looking back at those days spent in the Jeep, your left hand tightly clasped in Stiles’ right, those were the best days of your lives. 

Whether it was flooring it down to the woods on some paranormal adventure, heading over to someone’s -anyone’s- house for a party, to feel like real teenagers again, or just driving until your head fell drowsily onto Stiles’ flanneled shoulder, signaling to him that it was time to turn around, abandon the beams of moonlight for the pockets of streetlight that enveloped your neighborhood.

So, tonight, with the security of the new moon invisibly hanging overhead, Stiles decided that tonight was your night, to be spent, exclusively you and him, basking in each other’s heartwarming company. Just two normal people in love.

The screech of weathered tires in your driveway echoed through your house around six-thirty. You delightedly leaped into the passenger seat, not waiting for Stiles to give you anything but a goofy wink before your lips melded with his’. They were soft and familiar; the soothing feeling of home prickled your senses, only magnifying the waves of pleasure Stiles’ touch emitted. 

The kiss, abounding with mutual love and compassion, was only broken when Stiles could no longer contain the grin that accompanied the small giggles that emerged from his throat.

“Nice to see you, too,” he said with a smirk, adorably combing his fingers through his chocolate brown mop of hair. The idle engine of the Jeep roared to life as Stiles turned to you, his eyes unwavering from yours’.

“What’re we gonna do tonight?” The golden headlights of the vehicle drew oblong ovals on the expanse of empty, otherwise blackened road. It was a sight you had been treated to numerous times, as the Pack was always on some late-night escapade, but now you and Stiles’ nerves, as well as the speed of the beloved Jeep, was relaxed and leisurely. 

He replied, with a knowing smirk still etched onto his face, “You’ll see.”

“You’re so vague,” you jested, snaking your hand up his back and onto the nape of his neck, twirling strands of his hair in your fingers. 

“Well, I don’t wanna ruin the surprise.” While an almost sarcastic tone dripped through his words, his cheeks were burning and he was beyond flustered.

The Jeep continued to tread around the twists and turns of Beacon Hill’s streets, only increasing your curiosity as the night-lighted shops came into view. Neon signs emitting a foggy, almost nostalgic glow lined the roads, beckoned you inside.  

But instead, Stiles pulled into the drive-thru of your favorite local burger joint. The driver-side window rolled down with a hum and squeak. Before you could inform Stiles what your usual order was, he promptly recited flawlessly it to the employee through the speaker. 

“And I’d like one large chocolate shake, two straws.”

As he pulled up to the next window, reaching for his wallet, you asked with a coy smile, “How’d you know my order perfectly?”

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t even know my girlfriend’s go-to at her favorite restaurant?”

“I still think you’d be a perfect one.” As he rummaged through the paper bag containing the food, his head downturned, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him so close that his warm breaths fanned your face and fluttered your hair. 

He awkwardly stuffed the sack down, almost reflexively, noticing how close your face had gotten to his’. Fuses were bursting in his brain, as they did every time your soft skin graced his’. It was a feeling he’d never get sick of.

He tilted his lips to be level with yours’, but before you could kiss him once again, let your senses be overwhelmed with nothing but ecstasy, the blaring honk from the car behind you snapped you from your trance. Stiles didn’t press the gas immediately at the noisy interruption, incurring even more repeated, staccato horn blasts.

“Okay, okay!” he said, raising his hands, more of a sarcastic compliance than a relention to the annoyed driver. He rotated the steering wheel, maneuvering out of the largely vacant lot.

“Where are we going to eat such fine cuisine?” you asked, biting your lip lightly with excitement. Every moment you spent in Stiles’ presence, there was always some sort of adventure, planned or not.

“I know a spot,” he slyly said. “You’ll love it, I’m sure.”

It only took a blink of an eye to finally arrive at the ‘spot’ your loveable partner in crime had so vaguely eluded to. When the Jeep halted and the engine purred to sleep, his plan was revealed. He had driven you to a gorgeous lookout spot perched atop a particularly tall pike- Beacon Hills did live up to its namesake. 

Glimmering city lights flickered in the distance; the golden twinkles were shrouded with tall trees that in the darkness, were reduced to inky black outlines. It was silent and calm, a rejuvenating contrast to your regular adventures. It was amazing, but your company was even better.

“You like it?” Stiles queried with a boyish smile.

“I love it,” you replied, grabbing his warm hand and giving it a squeeze. “How’d you find out about this place?”

“Oh… y’know, when you’re out in the woods all the time, you just find little spots like these.” His teeth lightly bit into the flesh of his lip -almost goofily so- as he handed you your burger, neatly wrapped and stained with spots of grease. 

As you bit into the soft bun of the burger and its internal components, your face scrunched with disgust. You peeled the top bun off, inspecting it. “D’you want my pickles?”

He nodded furiously, though a perplexed look rested on his features. “How can you not like pickles?”

“Everything about them is horrible!” 

Stiles took an exaggeratedly large bite of his burger, which was stacked with pickles, saying with his mouth full, “Nuh-uh! Evwrything about thwem is amazing!”

A giggle hitched in your throat, despite your best efforts to only sarcastically roll your eyes. 

Once the two of you were done with your food, save for the large chocolate shake that had nearly turned into chilly chocolate milk by the time you two were ready to share it, he removed the straws from their paper wrappings by poking them on the dash almost pitifully. 

“Ta-da!” he exclaimed proudly once the two striped straws were submerged in the chocolate shake. You both moved your heads to try a sip of the milkshake, which was a bad move since your foreheads ended up bumping into each other painfully.  

“Oh, sorry,” Stiles sheepishly apologized, angling the shake so you could take a sip first. You tried it, smiled, and then pushed it back to him so he could taste-test it as well. 

“Why did I think it was a good idea to get one milkshake?”

“I thought it was pretty sweet.” You grinned widely before taking another drink.

“Oh… well” -his cheeks were burning- “that’s all that matters.”

And with that, your hand passionately traced lines across his chest as you pressed your lips on his’, tasting the deep chocolate flavor that still lingered on his tongue.

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[your-stoat-stands-unopposed]

actually would it be alright to request reader seriously challenging magnificus for his position because they saw how he treats his students and decided enough is enough, i can't let you keep doing this anymore? like maybe he was only humoring them and didn't expect them to go through with it (or win if they did) but they do and win and he witnesses how attached his students got to the first person to treat them kindly

Let Us Dance.

Pairing: None.

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical nastiness from Magnificus to his students, but that's about it.

Summary: You're sure you should be terrified; a human standing before a great Scrybe, standing up to him, threatening him even.

"You cannot be serious."

"Oh, I am."

You're sure you should be terrified; a human standing before a great Scrybe, standing up to him, threatening him even. There have been challengers before, those who have faced down the Scrybes in attempts to take their positions...

But you aren't here because you want Magnificus's position as Scrybe of Magicks.

No, you're here because you want Magnificus's position as master: because you want to end his tyranny over his helpless students, because you want to knock this cruel wizard off his lofty perch so that his pupils can go free.

"The way you treat them," you continue, "is awful. You've kept one of them in sensory deprivation for so long that they've gone mad, turned one of them into a ball of goo who's always in pain, made one of them live as a head on a pike cooking over lava..."

Before you, the wizard seems entirely impassive. He makes no move to stop your tirade, to protest against your accusations; he simply allows you to speak.

His lack of response only fuels your anger.

"You broke them," you clench your hands into fists at your sides. "And I can't let it go on any further. I can't."

"Are you done?"

His voice, deep and ancient, is tinged with an amusement that sets you on edge. A chuckle escapes him; the sound of a man completely unfazed.

"You will not be my undoing," he speaks, a wry tone to his voice. "In all my years, among all my premonitions, I am yet to observe a future in which you are the one to bring me down."

...You swallow.

You hadn't thought about that... This guy has an eye that can see into the future; he'll know if you win or not...

But you can't back down. You won't.

"You don't know everything," you mumble, eyes narrowing, skeptical and defiant. "Not now. Not after Leshy took your eye away."

He bristles, and you know you've hit a nerve.

You can't help but feel a flash of pride in your heart.

"So be it," Magnificus says, his eye glaring your way. "We will meet by the monuments tomorrow for a duel. Winner takes all. If you are so eager to make your needless point, so desperate to make a stand and fail... then let us dance."

------

You didn't expect it to be quite such a grand affair; it's as though everyone has arrived to bear witness to this historical moment.

The other three Scrybes and their followers have gathered in a circle around you, observing each and every move you and Magnificus make. Others from far and wide join the audience with baited breath, needing to see this duel with their own eyes to believe it's even happening. Now and then, you can hear the occasional commentary, the occasional murmur of approval, the occasional gasp of surprise...

But you pay no mind to it. You can't afford to.

The three students of your opponent - the three reasons that you're doing all this - are watching from cages suspended in the air above the battlefield; 'so that you may look them in the eyes as you fail, and despair,' Magnificus had said with a cold anger.

Under their gazes... you can't allow yourself to slip up.

You need to win this, for them.

------

That day feels so very long ago now. You can't remember just how long it's been since that battle: it could have been weeks, it could have been months, it could have been years...

All you know, and all you care to know, is that it is over.

You can walk the halls of the tower freely, and so can the students, and this is what matters. They've all flourished since that fateful day; your heart swells with pride and joy each and every time you see them.

The Lonely Wizard flits about from place to place in search of stimulation, dancing and singing and revelling in each and every sensation they can feel... the Pike Wizard managed to talk P03 into giving her parts for a new body, and she's learning to live as an entire person again... Goobert has taken up residence in a nice small space between the slats of the bridge, making friends with whoever passes by...

As for Magnificus himself, you don't know where he got to.

You don't care to know.

All you know... is that, at the end of the dance, you were the one who'd emerged victorious.

[foli-vora]

happily ever after

A/N: inspiration hits in the most bizarre of places for me lately. I do apologise for my grammar/spelling—I’m writing this half drunk in the car on the way home from a night out in the city hahah. I’ll check it in the morning. (disclaimer so people don’t think I’m not taking the pandemic seriously: where I live in Australia, we’ve achieved a ‘covid-normal’ after a very long, very intense lockdown - everything is mostly back to normal, or as close to, as we’re down to 2 active cases and they’re both in quarantine)

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: alcohol, reader’s drunk, Marcus is a complete sweetheart that would absolutely look after you like the certified soft boi he is. I just want him to look after me okay?? 

+

“Mmm... Mar—Marcus! Baby—my love... I—fuck—you’re so pretty.”

His chuckle is warm in return, and full of fond amusement. You whine gently when it floods your ears, dancing a little more on your aching feet. God, you missed him. When was the last time you saw him? Four... five? hours ago? Much too long for your drunken mind to wrap it’s head around.

“Are you ready to come home?”

You gasp, leaning on the railing outside the club, “Will you be there?”

He laughs again, and you hear his keys jingle in the background as he picks them up, followed by the soft thud of a door closing. “I will.”

You’ve been together for almost two years, living together for one and half of those years, but that seemed to be yet another fact your mind was having trouble remembering at this point.

“Then yessss. I miss you. Do—do you know that?”

“No,” he replies softly, smiling as he slides into his car. Of course he knew that. He knew you loved him more than anything, but hearing you drunkenly slur it so sweetly just had his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Well you should know that! That’s my—that’s my fault. I should tell you every day. I will. From right now, I’ll—tell you that you’re pretty and that I—that I miss you and that—shit—I feel sick.”

“Hold on for me, honey. I’ll be there soon.”

“Oh yay! I’m gonna give you a big, big kiss.”

“Yeah?”

“Huge. Um, honey, can we please get food?”

Your heart beats wildly when he chuckles again.

—

There’s a step at your door.

Since when was there a step?

It was lucky Marcus had such quick reflexes - you weren’t even halfway to the floor before he’s snatching you up, arms quickly wrapping around you and saving you for from meeting the hard ground. Your stomach starts to hurt from giggling so hard. 

His hands are on you when you eventually make it to and stumble up the stairs, staying just one step below you the entire way just in case you slip, which you do. Several times.

He eventually gets you into the bedroom, hands gentle as they lead you into the room and perched on the end of the bed.

“Come here, baby.” He kneels in front of you, hands reaching for your ankles and gently removing the strappy heels from your feet. His fingers dig into the sore flesh and you groan quietly, falling back onto the mattress and closing your eyes in bliss. Whoever invented heels needs a serious talking to...

“Roll,” his hands gently ease you on your side and you hum tiredly as he pulls down your zipper and gently works your dress off of your frame. You’re probably making it hard for him to undress you, laying on the bed and unmoving, heavy with drunken exhaustion, but if you are, he doesn’t comment on it or get impatient with you. 

The patience continues, even when you put up a half fight when he tries to wrestle a t-shirt onto you. He pins you easily, of course, and at your playful cry of defeat, he melts over you with a smile and kisses your cheeks while you laugh hysterically at the feeling of his beard scratching your skin.

The pillows feel fucking heavenly when you eventually move yourself around on the mattress at his gentle coaxing. What were they made out of - marshmallow? He laughs at your comment while pulling the sheets up, and tucks them softly around your frame before perching himself on the edge of the bed beside you.

He starts to dig around your side table, making a quiet noise of success when he finds whatever he was looking for. He pulls out your makeup remover and some cotton pads, and gets to work, tongue peaking out and brows pinching in concentration when he soaks the pads, careful not to make a spill.

You smile sleepily at him as he rubs a pad across your skin, softly rubbing at your eye until it turns black from mascara. He repeats it with the other eye and a fresh pad, before going once, twice, and once more for good measure, around your face and making sure it was thoroughly clean.

Lifting a heavy hand, you trail your fingers along his neatly trimmed beard, chest tightening when he turns his face into your touch and kisses your palm, curved nose brushing lightly against your skin.

How could one person make your heart hurt in such a wonderful way?

“I love you.”

He grins shyly, brown eyes gazing at you softly and tearing at your insides with a flood of overwhelming adoration. “I love you, too.”

“I’m so sleepy.”

“I know, honey, but first—hydrate.” He holds a glass out and grins at your scowl of disgust, gently pulling at the blankets you had hidden your face with. “I know, but you’ll thank me in the morning.”

“You’re lucky you’re so pretty, Agent Pike.” You grumble, moving to sit up, and opening your mouth when he brings the glass to your lips. It’s cool, and surprisingly exactly what you need? It’s gone before you even realise. 

You don’t even realise you’re eyes are closed until a warm body is wrapping around yours, and then you’re blinking tiredly up at Marcus as he makes himself comfortable cuddled up to you, fluffing his pillow before letting his head rest on it with a content sigh.

“Hey,” you whisper, catching his attention immediately. “Guess what?”

“What?” He whispers back, fingers softly caressing along the side of your face and across your nose. Your legs tangle with his under the sheets, and you soak in the immediate heat his body provides, melting into the soft mattress and the feeling of strong arms winding around your waist.

“We’re gonna live happily ever after.” Your eyes close and you pass out instantly, completely oblivious to the look of utter delight that brightens his face. He cuddles you closer, lips pressing gently to your forehead as he watches your face relax and breathing deepen.

“We sure are.”

+

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed​