#whoever at bones drew this all up i thank you

[malewifenjoyer]

[wandaslittlebird]

Alright, another professor Wanda drabble because I’m utterly whipped for her.

“I think spoken Russian is going to send me to an early grave,” You complained. “I’m good on the written and comprehension sections but the oral pronunciations…” You groaned dramatically, tossing your ‘Russian 101’ book out in front of you and dropping your arms so you were laying prone on bed.

Wanda picked up the book, reading through the dog-eared page you had been studying. “Is this the one you’re struggling with?” She pointed to one of the longer words at the top of the page. It had been twisting your tongue for hours.

You nodded. Wanda placed the book back in your hands and sat down next to you. “You know all the syllables. Just say it slowly, don’t try to cram the sounds together, just say them one at a time.”

You propped yourself back up on your elbows, squinting and bending forward to study the page. You sounded out the word slowly. Each syllable felt like an entire word of its own. It was by no means an elegant attempt, but it was technically correct.

Wanda slide down on the bed so she could press a kiss onto your lower back. “See?” She said, nuzzling the downward curve of her spine. “You’re getting it. Keep going. Try this one here.” She reached around you to point out a sentence at the top of the next page.

You spoke the words awkwardly and slowly, mentally trying to translate the foreign lettering into sounds. Wanda started tracing her way back up your spine, placing gentle kisses along each ridge.

“You’re a lot better at this than you think you are,” Wanda assured. “I could’ve never guessed this was your first semester taking Russian if I wasn’t the one teaching it to you.”

“Thank you, professor,” you teased. “I believe you’re to blame for my accelerated studies.” You could feel Wanda’s smile curl against your back.

“I suppose that is my job,” She teased, “making sure you excel.”

“Well then you’ll be devastated to know I have someone who’s serving as a terrible distraction to my studies.” You smirked, arching your back against her mouth.

“Mmm,” Wanda hummed. “I’m sure whoever it is knows that you work too hard. And I’d bet she knows that you’re brilliant and you could’ve passed with flying colors without even opening the book.”

“As if she herself isn’t known for working herself to the bone,” you retorted.

“All the more reason to provide her with a wonderful distraction.” Wanda bit gently at the spot your neck met your shoulder. You rolled your head back, mouth falling open in a silent groan. “We can continue your studies, if you wish. Repeat after me: YA ves' tvoy.” (I am yours.)

You reached one hand back behind you, burying it in Wanda’s thick brown hair. You drew her ruby red lips back to your neck, encouraging more kisses and nips from the older woman. “YA ves' tvoy,” you repeated with easy confidence. These words came far easier to you than the long and complicated ones you were pulling from your books.

“You speak beautifully, sweet girl.” Wanda sucked at the skin behind your ear.

Your eyes fluttered at sensation.“devochka milaya,” you said. “Sweet girl.”

“Mhm.” Wanda did not pull her mouth away from the soft skin of your neck. Your words weren’t entirely accurate, as the adjective came after the noun in Russian, but she was in no mood to be pedantic at the moment.

She adjusted her position on the bed, moving to straddle your hips rather than lying beside you. You whined when she pulled away, already missing the warm breath against your neck. The whines turned into moans when Wanda ground against her hips your ass. “I want to hear you say it again. Tell me you are mine,” she demanded.

You obeyed. “YA ves' tvoy,” you said again. The words came even more natural the second time around. “I am yours. I am all yours, my love.”

“YA ves' tvoy, moya lyubov,” She translated, adding in the ‘my love’.

You giggled. “Do you plan to fuck me until I can recite the entirety of the Russian language?”

Wanda chuckled mischievously, bending so her mouth was mere inches from your ear. “My love, by the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember English.”

[jolenes-doppelganger]

hiii!! i just read your works about ilsa and rose. could you possibly write about lady jessica x fem! corrino reader? where they meet at the final scene of the movie…

xx

[Hi Anon! Thank you for the request. I had some fun ideas with this one, enjoy. :3]

Phantom Frequency

Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Corrino Reader

Summary: Following the overthrow of House Corrino’s monarchy, few things are certain. The Bene Gesserit’s power over the throne, political stability and spice production seem to be uncertain, but on a more personal level, the Corrino household can only fear for their lives. But not all is lost for the two eldest daughters of the former Emperor Shaddam. With Irulan married to Paul and the Reader secured as her primary advisor, a third party strikes a bargain to maintain her security.

Warnings: Drugging, abduction, dub-con ‘arrangement’, dub-con medical examination, Jessica being Jessica

A/N: I know I said this might have been spicy… So I hope you’re hungry! For nothing.

Word Count: 2.8k

You’d heard the whispers before you stepped foot off of the ship onto Arrakis. You were the middle Corrino princess. Your sister, Irulan, deciphered truth, your younger sister wielded the Voice, and you had mastered complete control over your body. Each of you played a key role in the Corrino household. Irulan and your younger sister Addsham played direct roles in controlling the affairs of the household. You held a different purpose. While the two of them occupied the Bene Gesserit with their development and tasks, you lay in the shadows, collecting information and rumors out of the mouths of those around you with uncanny accuracy. But the whispers hadn’t helped you to prepare for the direct interest of the Reverend Mother Atreides.

“Abomination!” the sisters of the Bene Gesserit cried, all momentarily caught up in hysterics as Paul Atreides commanded Reverend Mohiam to silence.

The Fremen warriors stood clustered around the Muad’Dib, the Lisan al Gaib of their fables. But from your perspective, they were really clustered around her. Of all the people she could have fixed her eyes upon, she’d chosen you. Not your frightened sister Irulan, not the pale face of your father, Emperor Shaddam, but you. Small, unassuming, clustered and partially veiled amidst the throng of Bene Gesserit sisters. Quiet, resolutely collected and observant. Jessica Atreides had picked you to focus on. Why?

“... All these years, and I have the pleasure of finally meeting Lady Anirul’s successor.” a voice squirmed through your head. “You don’t carry her name, or her features like your older sister, but you do have her eyes, and her bearing.”

Jessica’s blue eyes bore into yours as the voice drew uncomfortable waves through your ears. You weren’t really hearing her voice. Her lips were barely moving… This was the Voice. Jessica was using some ventriloquy variant of the Voice to talk to you, and you alone.

“How?” you whispered, your brief murmur coming out like a soft gasp, indiscernible from the rest of the Bene Gesserit gasps.

“When you’re my pupil, I’ll teach you.” Jessica eerily stared, eyes sliding off of you and back onto whoever her next victim would be.

<——————->

Paul Atreides had won. The way Irulan clutched your arm as you exited into the safety of the Emperor’s ship made that clear. You’d watched your father kiss the ring of the boy warrior in a haze of disbelief and fear, your emotions scrambled alongside that of the women surrounding you. Walking into Irulan’s private chambers aboard the ship was like walking behind a stage curtain. She broke down, clutching at your shoulders, burying her face in your neck and sobbing.

“No, I can’t do it.” Irulan cried, chest heaving and voice cracking. “I can’t do it (Reader), I can’t face him again. Or his mother.”

You were numb. The kind of numb that slid into your bones whenever trouble struck. It left you with a clarity that was always sort of peculiar; an emotionless outlook on the problems you faced, the ability to tackle dilemmas with the unfeeling scalpel of logical next steps rather than the blunt phalanges of emotional wallowing. You cupped your sister’s head, resting your foreheads together.

“Who said you have to face him right now? No, you have time. You get three days to sob and sit in your self-pity, behind closed doors naturally, but then you will not cry any longer.” you found yourself instructing.

“I hate him.” Irulan whispered. “I fucking hate him.”

The very concept of Irulan swearing was a bit funny. She didn’t use these words. You’d doubted if she ever had them in her vocabulary.

“I believe it was you who held me against the bathroom wall and scrubbed my tongue with soap when I used those words.” you joked.

Irulan let out a tearful laugh, wiping her eyes and nodding.

“Sorry. You were twelve. And someone could have heard you.”

You nodded. It was a funny memory in hindsight. It had caused no lasting harm, quite unlike the predicament Irulan faced. All of the potential marital arrangements she’d been discerning for years, all of the suitors with varying levels of financial and diplomatic aptitude stripped from her in one fell swoop. She’d been damned to a sandpit with the worms and the Fremen. No respite from the Bene Gesserit would be given. No safety net should things go awry.

“I’m staying with you.”

“No.” Irulan shook her head. “What about Daddy?”

“Daddy has Addsham. You have no one. You need my skills, you need my council. You need someone to bear the burden with you.” you said, clutching your sister’s hands. “I’m not asking. I will stay. And you will not be alone.”

Irulan’s eyes filled with tears all over again, and so did your eyes. But you didn’t let them fall. You’d never cried since the night your mother had died. Now would not be the day the six year dam broke. An attendant broke you away from your sister, urgently vibrating in the way most servants did when they carried important news.

“The Reverend Mother Jessica Atreides requests your presence in meeting room six.”

No time was given. It was a direct order. Veiling yourself once more, you walked towards the specified meeting room.

<——————->

The room was empty. To your eyes, at least. A cup of tea, a Gom Jabbar needle. A test of some sort, or perhaps a warning. You kept your distance from the objects, breathing in the smell of stale incense. A large tapestry hung from the wall, a beloved favorite of yours. Lady Anirul seated alongside a younger Emperor Shaddam. Three little girls that bore varying ratios of similarity to the two parents. You smiled, observing your family. Something was off, however. You knew something about it was off. It wasn’t Emperor Shaddam, or any of the three little princesses, it was your mother, Lady Anirul. Was it her hands? No. The neck… Not that either. Her face was odd. Maybe it was seeing her countenance in the format of the tapestry. Maybe it was just seeing her again. But the more you looked, the more you realized that it was her face. All blended together, all seamlessly woven, except for the life-like eyes. The blue, glistening, life-like eyes of someone that was not your mother, that had never been your-

Hands sprung out from the tapestry, encircling your neck and pushing you backward into the table. The slits of the tapestry, the slits in your mother’s eyes went blank, and the face that replaced your mother’s sent chills up your spine.

“Let this be your first lesson.” Mother Jessica whispered, grip tight over your windpipe. “When the gut screams that something is wrong, you listen.”

She released your neck, and the fright combined with the released pressure on your airpipe made you dizzy. You slid to the floor, head spinning in shock and fear. Tears collected in your eyes, and your hands shook. All of these reactions were without your consent, and you couldn’t gather the necessary strength needed to reverse these processes, to engage the parasympathetic nervous system to undo the shock of the deceitfully devised strangulation attempt.

“Oh, child.” Jessica scoffed. “You grow too comfortable in your house.”

“You cut out my mother’s eyes!” you found yourself whimpering, like a scared child.

Jessica laughed at this, a cruel sound mixed with a certain degree of disdain.

“You have thirty seconds to collect yourself.” she ordered.

You found yourself rising, turning away from her to collect yourself. You stopped breathing like a hysterical adolescent, instead forcing slow breaths in through your nose. You gripped the edge of the table, righting the dam against your conflicting emotions. Then you turned, making eye-contact with the woman behind them all.

“I am not a traditional mentor. Your mother never was, hence why she was never allowed to mentor another following me.” Jessica coldly recounted. “But she taught me more in six months than the rest of them did in sixteen years. Still, she teaches me. From beyond the grave she sends me lessons, ones that hurt to learn. And now, she’s sent me you. The middle child, the forgotten one, the little rebel that bides her time in the shadows. You.”

Jessica adjusted her loose veil, grabbing the Gom Jabbar needle.

“What would this be used for?”

“The Gom Jabbar test. I passed it at fourteen.”

Jessica nodded, setting the needle down. But then she fixed her piercing gaze on you once more.

“But that’s not the only way you know it.”

Anger flashed through your veins. How dare she!

“My mother was a strong woman, she was sick. And no one helped her, so don’t you dare throw her death in my face-”

“Silence.”

Your teeth clacked shut, clipping your tongue in the process. The taste of iron filled your mouth

“Did your mother kill herself with the Gom Jabbar or not?”

You reached behind you, gripping the table with ferocious intensity, channeling the rising tide of emotions into another action other than crying.

“She did.” you croaked out, breathing in through your nose so fast the air whistled.

Jessica nodded, picking up the cup of tea. It was still hot, you noticed. A product of the heat conducting coil at the base of the cup.

“Do you know what this tea is?” Jessica asked, a rhetorical question. “It was the only thing found in your mother’s system following the autopsy. And you’re going to drink it.”

You screwed your eyes shut, silently praying to any higher power that would dare listen to make this nightmare stop. But then you opened them, not allowing yourself to succumb to despair.

“Take it. Before I make you.”

The cup was hot in your hands. The liquid a murky brown. It was a derivative of spice, notes of chamomile and citrus laced in with the pungent scent of spice. You swallowed down the beverage, doing so with mechanical detachment.

“Close your eyes.” Jessica murmured, taking the cup from you.

Her fingers grazed your with startling gentleness. It was a tad bit sensual, but perhaps you were making that bit up.

“Feel.”

The pregnant bump of Jessica brushed against your stomach, her hands resting on your lower face. Her nose brushed yours, a brief motion. Then her lips rested on your left ear, her breath tickling the hollow cavern of your ear canal.

“Your mother drank a spice cocktail, a depressant based blend to promote bliss and a sense of euphoria. She died happy.”

It was too much for you to bear, and in between the soft caresses of her hands, in between the stress of the last twelve hours, in between all of the emotional heartache you’d experienced, a sad, neglected child sat crouched in a corner, wondering where her mother went. You broke down, hands fisted in the Reverend Mother’s robes as she collected every stray tear you cried with her lips, collecting the water of your body and storing it in hers.

<—————->

Distant voices blurred together the longer you were in that room. You called it ‘that room’ because you were unsure of where it was. Your routine was set. When you came out of the drug coma, you were fed and given water, and then the bitter drink was administered. As you came out of the coma again, more voices were clear.

“Leave me with her.” a raspy voice.

“But Reverend Mother, you gave birth only three days ago-”

“Leave me.”

The voice. Quick footsteps, silence. Hands encircled your face, sweet smelling breath ghosting over your nose.

“I’ve had you inspected.” she murmured. “You are in perfect health, fertile and strong. A strong vessel, this is important.”

You opened your eyes, meeting the tired, slightly bloodshot eyes of the Reverend Mother.

“I cannot teach someone weak. I will not teach someone weak. But you are not weak, daughter of Anirul. No, you are good stock.”

Her hands crept over you, exposing your skin, pulling off your robe.

“Still… I do not necessarily trust the Imperial physicians I had brought to you. I need to see for myself.”

Jessica started at your lymph nodes in your neck, checking pulse, fingers prodding the skin. She pressed over your belly button, your appendix, watching your face for signs of discomfort. Her touch slid down to your feet, your ankles. She carefully checked all the joints of your arms and legs, paying special attention to your hips.

“Strong body, good heart, your lungs sound clear and full. But are you suitable for breeding?” Jessica asked herself.

Both of her hands encircled your breasts, probing and caressing, checking for any potential defects.

“Not as vessel filled as they should be. You need more blood flow to the glands. Daily massages should help with that.”

It was humiliating, being touched so callously. It was medical, sure. And the Reverend Mother was a sister of the Bene Gesserit, but this was hardly protocol.

“The womb…”

Her hands slid down to your pubic area, probing and prodding just above the pubic bone. She did this for sometime, more carefully examining this area than anywhere else.

“It’s safe to say that you are fertile. Not as fertile as you should be, however. Estrogen rich foods, daily boric acid suppositories to help with pH balance… Yes, most certainly.”

Jessica gripped your thighs without warning, pulling them apart, exposing your vulva to her view. It was a quick look, she merely skimmed over you with her gaze.

“Aesthetically pleasing. Hmm.”

The Reverend Mother dropped her grip, tying the robe over you once more. To say that you were shocked was an understatement. Humiliation, confusion and flattery all brewed together in a jumbled mix, and you found that every possible response you had to the examination dried up in your throat.

“What?” Jessica smirked bemusedly. “You are very aesthetically pleasing, not just there, but everywhere.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows felt like the only correct de-escalatory measure. Tightening the robe over you felt necessary, covering yourself from her gaze. Jessica eyed you carefully, her hands cupping your cheeks and jaw.

“Let me make one thing clear. I do not explain my methods. I will not explain my methods. Once the desired outcome is made, there will be no room for discussion over my methods. I am the teacher, you are the pupil. Criticism will not be tolerated, neither will disobedience.”

A thousand questions raced through your head. Who had given her this authority over you? Why had she drugged you? How long had you stayed in a timeless state of unconscious bliss while the world worked around you? What if Irulan had needed your help while you were gone? What if your father had left with the rest of the Bene Gesserit, and you’d never gotten to say goodbye?

“I have questions.” you rasped, voice crackly and hoarse from not speaking for several days.

“I don’t have the patience to answer them. The only thing you need to know at this point is that you are not permitted to leave my side without my consent. That means you eat with me, you attend all meetings alongside me, you tend to my affairs when instruction is given and you sit quietly when I have nothing for you.” Jessica listed, getting closer, cupping your face more forcefully. “You sleep alongside me, you dress alongside me, and you most certainly do not hide yourself from me.”

Jessica slid a hand down your back, her other hand gripping the back of your head. Her lips pressed right against her ear, wet, hot air tickling at the sensitive flesh.

“And what we do when it is just us, what we do in those quiet hours once I am healed from labor, that you will never speak of.”

You looked up at her, eyes wide and troubled. Was she… Propositioning you for sex? Was this even a proposition or just a straight up demand. You wanted to open your mouth to protest, but Jessica was faster.

“Get up.” Jessica said, exerting control over you using the Voice.

Your body obeyed unwillingly, standing before her.

“Kneel.”

Your knees buckled, and her hands were quick to jerk your face up, glaring at you with intent.

“Never, ever attempt to speak without being spoken to again. Especially to tell me what I can and cannot do. Arrakis is under Emperor Paul’s jurisdiction now. What I do to ensure House Corrino remains subjected will be none of his concern.”

The fire in her eyes died down, replaced by a soft amusement.

“It won’t be bad, dear. None of it will be bad. You won’t ever worry about being forced into a diplomatic marriage without good warning. And if you do well, if you are a good student, I will have very little incentive to send you away.”

Jessica finished her lecture, amusing herself with the soft baby hairs that clung to your forehead.

“And from now on,” she continued, voice soft, “You call me Jessica.”

[interstellarlyinlove]

Trunk (September 30th)

word count: 760

@wolfstarmicrofic

One thing about Sirius that is surprising (a lot of things about Sirius are surprising– this is a fact that delights Remus like very little else) is that he is the worst gift giver Remus knows. 

This is surprising because Sirius is thoughtful and considerate and he loves in a way that generally ends with his heart on his sleeve on fire with the weight of all that love.

Absolute horrendous gift giver, though. 

Remus has every single thing Sirius has ever given him, ever since they were eleven and awkward around each other, and he loves all of it a stupid amount. The ugly t-shirts that he sleeps in, the neon band-aids that Remus uses after full moons, and an especially ugly painting of him that was one of the reasons he stopped hating the way he looked when he was fourteen (at least he didn’t look like whoever Sirius thought he drew) are a few of his Sirius-gifted prized possessions. 

“I got you something,” Sirius says as he enters their dorm room. 

Remus looks up from where he’s sitting on Sirius’ bed (sue him) and sees a huge box instead of his pretty boyfriend. “Did you get the continent of Asia by chance?”

Sirius puts the box in front of Remus on the floor and grins. “Why Asia?”

“Huh?”

“Why not another continent?”

Remus blinks then giggles. “It’s the biggest one but that’s not– do they not teach you geography if you’re a fancy wizard?” Remus then blinks. “What is this?”

“This is your new favorite thing, darling,” Sirius says and he starts ripping the box open. “So, you know how you want to travel around after we graduate?”

Remus flushes. He doesn’t know why it’s embarrassing but it is. “Uh-huh.”

Sirius stops trying to rip the box open and just waves his hand, and the box is gone, and in its place is a large light leather trunk.

Remus blinks. He loves how magic to Sirius is as easy as breathing, engraved into his very bones. Sirius doesn’t even use a wand half of the time and Remus loves it.

Remus looks at the trunk and realizes suddenly that this is the most thoughtful thing in the universe. Remus has maybe mentioned wanting to travel around twice, if that, and it was more wistful rambling than anything else. But Sirius remembered and he got him a suitcase and Remus loves him.  

“Sirius, I love–”

“No, wait a second,” Sirius says. He summons Remus’ wand. “I’m pretty sure my wand’s with James, sorry, but look–” Sirius taps the top of the trunk twice with Remus’ wand and the trunk opens. Remus’ shirts are neatly arranged in one side and there are drawers that are opening and closing on the other, even Remus’ shoes are in the trunk. Remus looks at the shoes as they titter-tatter out of the trunk and stop next to his feet in awe. 

“I stole all of your closet and things for this. I hope that’s okay.”

“Sirius, how is–”

“But look!” Sirius taps the top of the trunk again and everything comes flying out at once. Remus is in shock as his shirts fold mid-air and stack on top of each other on the bed. All the other small things– Remus’ hairbrush, socks, even scar cream (Sirius really did steal all of his things) neatly get put away in their places (James’ lamp did get knocked down in the process but Sirius waved his hand and it was fixed just like that). 

“It’s charmed to pack and unpack on its own,” Sirius explains. “So there’s one less thing to think about, you know? But that lamp shouldn’t have fallen down so I’ll need to fix the charm a little bit, but don’t worry I can totally–”

Remus kisses Sirius because how could he not? He’s grinning when he says, “So goddamn brilliant, Sirius. Merlin. Thank you, my love. How did you even think of doing this?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius brushes Remus off, flushing. “Do you like it?”

Remus thinks he needs to reevaluate Sirius’ gifting skills and give him a higher score. “I love you and I love it and I’m getting buried next to it I think.”

“Ugh. Why would you even say that, you–”

“Thank you, Sirius,” Remus repeats, his heart so full it doesn’t even fit in his chest anymore.

“I even got it engraved for you.” Sirius shows Remus the R.J. Lupin engraved in gold and Remus’ heart bursts out of his ribcage, then. He kisses Sirius again.

[jonquilyst]

Day 14 - Challenge Day

Everyone... I have some news for you: This is the final challenge before the merge! That means whoever wins this challenge will be guaranteed spots in the merge, so I hope you all will try your very best!

This challenge's movie genre is crime. One contestant from each team will be randomly chosen to be a prisoner. From there, two other contestants will be tasked to break out their team's prisoner out and escape with them. The first team to have their prisoner and their two rescuers escape the "prison" will win invincibility!

Of course, breaking into a prison is no easy feat! That's why I've added multiple sections to this prison and filled it with booby traps! The prisoners will be locked deep inside and the contestants tasked with breaking them out will have to power through the booby traps in order to reach their prisoner.

My random wheel of names have chosen Liana and Drew to be the prisoners of their teams! The wheel of names was also used to select the rescuers for the Illustrious Star-Shines (no need for the wheel for the Big-Names, since they're now just a team of 3) and it chose none other than Drew's BFF Flo and the ever-so-determined Hans! The Illustrious Star-Shines who were not chosen are exempt from this challenge.

It was a chaotic start for our Star-Shines. In attempt to clear the first booby trap to unlock the door behind them, Flo was struck by a poisonous arrow and Hans... Man oh man does fire love him! He catches himself on fire for the second time thanks to the booby trap! Thankfully Flo was quick-thinking and extinguished him right away.

Thankfully, the Big-Names had better odds. Toni was left unscathed, though she was blasted with bone dust which left her filthy. Willabelle on the other hand also fell victim to a poisonous arrow.

The Star-Shines make their way deeper into the prison and come across another obstacle! Flo can see Drew on the other side of an electrified gate that must be deactivated with a switch. While attempting to disarm the gate, Flo and Hans were terrified to discover tarantulas and a skeletonized arm inside the switches! (Not specifying whether the arm is real or not)

The same goes for the Big-Names. Toni was terrified to discover even more tarantulas in the switch, while Willabelle narrowly dodges another poisonous arrow!

In the end, our two teams successfully disarmed the gates and they're now able to break their prisoners out!

As soon as Liana and Drew are rescued, the teams rush to the entrance of the prison. In the end, the Illustrious Star-Shines are the first team to have all 3 participants escape, meaning they win the challenge and invincibility into the merge! Congratulations!!

THE ILLUSTRIOUS STAR-SHINES WIN!

Big-Names... You already know the drill. I'll see you at the auditorium where you will once again say goodbye to another teammate.

Today's Confessional: Hans Somme

"And that's how the Illustrious Star-Shines roll! I've always known we were the best team. Those Big-Names never had anything against us. Those two times we lost? That was just us preparing to knock them out of their seats afterwards. It's called "warming up." Our 5 victories speaks for itself."

"Though if I'm being completely honest... I'm kinda sad we're not gonna be in teams anymore. I really liked what we had. It's been an honor to serve as this team's captain."

@bloomingkyras @witheringscreations @akitasimblr @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants @simsinfinitylt

@invisiblequeen

[throughtrialbyfire]

𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 ♥

hi! it's been far too long since ive done this, but classes have been kicking my ass. next semester is my last at this college, so i'm trying to get as much done as possible <3

thank you to the lovely @captain-of-silvenar for tagging me, and to everyone who has been tagging me in my absence!!

tagging @orfeoarte @thequeenofthewinter @archangelsunited @viss-and-pinegar and whoever wants to do this and hasnt been tagged!!

this week, i bring the rough draft of the rewritten first chapter of An Inner Sanctity. ancano wakes up to find himself in an unfamiliar setting with intense pain he can't find a source for… and someone else in the cabin with him.

The room was dark. Lit only by a hearth, or some other fire. He could almost hear it crackle, if not for the shooting, electric pain digging into him like a hot knife. It ran in wild arcs from his lower spine, up through his shoulders and down through the legs, into his head until it pounded. He strangled a cry mid-way from his mouth and choked on air, face balled tight in an effort to shut it off, but that only served to intensify the tension in his head. He laid back on the pillow, coated in a new layer of cold sweat, lungs ragged in their attempts to keep any air in them. He tried to move, kicking his legs like stubborn carts laden with ore, but they were too heavy to move under the quilts and his own exhaustion. The pain dulled, first a slow glimmer of softening, then it dissipated into thudding behind his eyes. His ears pounded with blood rushing through them, his muscles heavy and uncomfortable. It was as though he had been speared through with a burning iron blade, but as he lifted his shaking hands to his face and touched the skin beneath, he could not feel anything out of the ordinary. His features were a bit sharper, perhaps. And the thin, oily coat of sweat didn't help any matters, either. He couldn't tell where he was, nor why the room was dim, nor why the quilts were there. Was he asleep? How long had he been asleep? The last thing he'd seen is that wave of… What was it, was that magicka? Not like anything he'd ever seen before. But it had slammed into him, knocking him back towards a wall, and a force had shocked through him to his core, and then…

A door opened near where he lay. Ancano shut his eyes. He slowed his breathing as the trudge of footsteps drew closer, a bowl sloshing with water. The guise of sleep would afford him enough time to take them by surprise, to shove them aside and paralyze them before he made his escape. Then, he'd run to the Thalmor Embassy and let them know what had happened at that dreadful College, barring a few details, of course. After all, it was only natural that the one to wield such an artifact such as the Eye should want to keep it for himself, is it not? A warm, wet washcloth swept over the ridge of his brow, the hand who held it moving in slow, gentle motions. He could feel their fingers as they gripped the cloth, and brought it down to his cheeks, over his eyes, and around his mouth. It took all of his strength not to protest the sensation, but he remained still and quiet as a corpse, and allowed the motions to fall over him. The cloth set aside somewhere, the same hand dipped something into the water, before he felt bristles moving through his hair. The motions were careful, pushing back the front of the lengths with the wet brush, ensuring that the one who held it did not harm him. Strange, was he perhaps in the care of a Dominion medic? Is that, by some miracle, where he'd wound up? The brush set aside on a wooden surface - to Ancano's chagrin, as he had enjoyed the little bit of comfort the brushing sensation provided - the mysterious hand returned, moving the cloth down his neck, and around his chest. They moved it along the ridges of his collar bone, and when he opportunity struck, he lurched out his hand like a snake's mouth to prey, eyes shot open as he got a bleary, unclear look at the figure. "Explain to me who you are, and what you are doing, or you will be missing a hand very shortly," he sneered in a hoarse voice, the threat taking the figure by surprise. As he began to register the figure before him, recognition came through the sound of their own voice, the person shoving against his hand on their wrist.

"Let me go, damn it! I'm just trying to help you!" Their protests came out more surprised than scared, and at that moment Ancano got a clear look at the individual before him. He loosened his grip, watching the Mer rub their wrist and pout a little, their dark hair falling over their shoulders in curls. His eyes widened involuntarily as he looked up at them, brow knit in confusion. The last memory that he had of this figure was that of them trying to kill him. "Athenath?" He uttered, throat unusually dry. The Altmer turned their attention to him, giving a nervy grin as he continued to massage his wrist. They then let the hand fall to their lap, looking over Ancano curiously. "Yes, and I'm gonna assume you've always had good grip strength." He frowned. Attempting to push himself up onto his elbows, another crack of pain whipped through his lower spine and into his extremities. Whatever noise he must have made, it was enough to make Athenath flinch, before they began to lower him back into the bed. "Hey, don't do that, not yet," they chided as Ancano's lips ran with haggard breaths, "you're not… well. I mean, I don't think you're sick, but you're definitely injured, though Lydia said she can't find any signs of physical injury. I can't, either, besides some cuts and bruises from… Well, you shouldn't worry too much."

He sneered. "Don't worry, I won't," he replied, words dripping thickly with sarcasm. The other Altmer rolled their dark eyes, and while Ancano had known they'd spoken, and he'd returned his own words, it was as though all sound came from across a corner, down a hall, somewhere out of touch. All he saw was his own pulse-spot-spattered vision, and the gleaming of the hearth reflected in the surface of the water that they'd been using moments prior. He had never known that he could get this thirsty. His tongue laid as dry and sharp in his mouth as a chunk of sandstone, all thoughts focused there. It would be pathetic to ask for water, to beg like a dog, but he found he did not have to, as Athenath pulled over a silver pitcher and poured him a glass. They set it aside, and with as much care as he could muster, began to shift Ancano to sit against the pillows. He winced and gagged on the pain, but the other took his time, and Ancano swore in that moment he almost heard reassurances, words meant to soothe so bitter and mocking in this light. When it was all over, however, he was seated, with the pillows against his back, resting on the headboard of what must have been a makeshift bed, as it was too hard to be a bed used regularly, and too lumpy to be one he was expected to sleep on for much longer. Well, he certainly hoped so, for if he had to sleep on this mattress any more nights, he might burn the entire place down with everyone but himself inside.

[afro-hispwriter]

A Soldier & An Assassin

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Summary- sent on a solo recon mission, ghost finds himself with an assassin from a Brotherhood that has an official-unofficial undocumented alliance with the military

Assassins Creed x Call of Duty

A/n- The reader is French and black but has no physical descriptions. She has a French accent but it probably comes off as more English. She is a descendant of Abbo Cernuns(a hidden one who is the most intrigued by). Her outfit choices are similar to Evie Fryes but more modernized I should say.this is part 1. Warnings- slow burn??? Wc- 1.1k

-

Hassan was dead but now Makarov was coming up. He is in prison but the man has power, and his own army is causing trouble already which has the 141 on edge. 

The Konni have been transporting weapons never-ending, and the possibility of one of those containers carrying missiles goes up every time.

Price and Laswell agreed just to send one person to check. Ghost was chosen for this recon, quick and quiet. 

-

Ghost climbed up the stairs and ran to the ledge and pulled his sniper out.

"Watcher 1 to Ghost, how we looking?" Laswell says in his ear.

"Lots of armed personnel surrounding multiple containers." 

"Okay, if there are any signs of a missile, we're coming to you." 

"Copy." Ghost zoomed in his scope on each container, trying to get a closer look inside one.

"How many do you think there are down there?" To say his bones didn't jump out of his skin was an understatement. The feminine voice in his ear did not come from his comm in his right ear. No. This voice was not Laswell and whoever it was, was physically there next to him. Ghost whipped around to see who it was but was met with a black hood. He drew his knife but it got knocked out of his hands and the blade was pressed against his neck. 

"Is this how you treat all your allies?" Ghost slowly raised his hands in surrender, knowing the blade could slice through his jugular any second. 

"If you were an ally, you wouldn't have snuck up on me. Anybody tell you don't sneak up on an armored man?" He says slowly standing up to his feet, the blade the woman had following him. 

"Anybody tell you don't underestimate a woman." There was a slight chuckle that came from you. "Laswell, always keeping her word." The blade retracted and Ghost finally turned his head to face you. You were not at all what he was expecting. The all-black get-up looked ridiculous, it was like you were pulled right out of a book. You looked Ridiculous.

"You know Laswell?"

The hood was pulled back and the brightest smile was put on your face. Okay, you look less ridiculous now. 

"Laswell and I go way back, she saved my life one day and now she is my friend, along with the others. She has earned our respect."

"Others?" 

"Ever heard of the Brotherhood, or the Hidden Ones?" You ask him and start to walk to the ledge of the building and pull out some binoculars to zoom in on the Konni. 

"Rumors, stories. A large  group of Assassins that live among us." Ghost says cautiously and approaches you from behind. 

"And we have kept it like that for thousands of years, thanks to our skills, leaders, and people like Laswell." 

"Well, I would've liked to know I would have company on something that was supposed to be solo." 

"I asked her not to say anything. I knew a man with a skull face mask would be here and he goes by Ghost." You look back at him and look him up and down. "I also trusted my skills enough to handle you if it came to it." Ghost scoffed at that and you stood up straight. "Look." You passed the binoculars to Ghost and he grabbed them, he looked at you wearily but looked. 

"Bloody hell." Ghost zoomed in on the open container to see an array of controls. 

"They're covering it up with drugs and money." Ghost handed you the binoculars back and clicked his radio. 

"This is Bravo-7 to Watcher-1." 

"Go for Watcher-1."

"There's a container here with what looks like missile controls in it."

"Damn." Ghost looked back at you and you raised an eyebrow. 

"I also ran into your, friend." He hesitated at that before hearing Laswell sigh. 

"Yeah sorry about that Ghost, but she was very insistent on not to tell you but I trust her. She is a good person." He trusted Laswell with his life, so if she trusts you, so can he(maybe). “But come on back, we need to find what those controls are connected to.”

“Copy.” Ghost responds and starts to walk away. You throw your arms up in shock.

“Um hello?” You scoff and walk after him. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing a civilian needs to know about.” 

“I'm not a civilian.” Ghost stops and sighs before turning around.

“You’re friends with Laswell and an assassin. Nothing there tells me you are part of the military. This isn’t your warzone.” You shook your head and pinched your nose. 

“Dangerous people are everywhere, and that means the battleground changes but the mission remains the same.” He could agree with that. 

“Why are you here?” He asks lowly and you press your lips together. 

“That's for you to figure out.” You say with a sly smirk and walk past him. You brushed your shoulder against his gently. Your perfume hit his nostrils through the mask and he felt his body willingly want to follow you. “See you around, partner.” You said it very teasingly as you stepped on the ledge of the building, hood being brought back up to your head, and leaned forward until you were falling. 

This was the second time you’ve scared Ghost. He ran to the ledge to see where you went but there was nothing. No blood on the sidewalk and you weren’t on the fire escape.

When Ghost got back to base and gave his full report(leaving you out). After that, he opened the dusty laptop that he never used and started researching the Hidden Ones. But the whole time, you flooded his head. Your beautiful smile, the ridiculous get-up, and your adorable accent. 

Ghost ripped his mask off his face and tossed it on his desk. He didn’t like the way you were making him feel but it wasn’t at all an unwelcome feeling.

-

A/n- I'm not very proud of this, it's not at all how I wanted it to go but if anybody is interested in a second part I'll work on that:) hope you guys somewhat enjoyed

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Undying Love 💍 (Part 5 - Resolutions)

Finally the end! I promised I'd have this out much quicker than the last few parts and I'm a woman of my word! Although this is the end of this one, I already have another Ominis x MC fic planned so stay tuned for that!

Undying Love - Part 5: Resolution - Ominis Gaunt x Female MC

Summary: Ominis and MC try to recover from the pain left behind from their plan. 1.7k words.

Warnings: Smut/NSFW/18+!! Characters are aged up and out of school. Do not read if you're under 18!! They have a MUCH needed make up bone!

Tagging list!: @myrachondria, @lesbolordo, @froggyinaspen, @lora-erwood hope you enjoyed this thanks for being so into it! 💕

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4!

------------------------------------

Two days had passed since Ominis and MC had come home, and Ominis was still upset with MC, mostly avoiding and withdrawing from her. He had also been giving Sebastian the cold shoulder, refusing to talk to him anytime he came by the house to talk things out. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“Will you at least talk to me!?” she screamed at him, after having made him a dinner that he barely ate. “What is there to talk about, MC?” he replied back without even so much as a glance in her direction. Typically, he referred to her as “darling”, “dear”, or some other form of endearment, but for the past two days she was just her name, and it hurt. She knew he was doing this on purpose. Ominis could be very spiteful when he was angry, purposely doing things to get a reaction out of whoever he was upset with. But he had never been this angry with MC before. She hated the way he was making her feel. She knew it was payback for what she had done to him. She also knew she was giving him exactly what he wanted. He wanted to see her upset. He wanted her to hurt the way he did. 

“What is there to talk about?! Well for starters we can talk about how you’ve treated me since we’ve arrived home. How many more times do I need to apologize, Ominis? How many more times do I have to explain that everything I did was for us? Please believe me.” Tears began to form in her eyes. MC had done a lot of crying the last two days, her eyes in a constant state of irritation from how often her tears had fallen. 

“MC, you have no idea the amount of pain you’ve put me through! Do you expect me to just forget about that? I know it was necessary, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt!” There was anger in his voice, but sadness in it as well, his voice cracking. 

“Do you have any idea how much it broke me to hear you two, my wife and my best friend, tongues down each other’s throats, moaning for each other?! When I heard that, all I could think of was ‘what if she falls out of love with me and falls in love with Sebastian instead? She’s loved him before, she could love him again.’ I know you two have resolved everything, but I can’t help but fear he could take you away from me one day. I can’t bear the thought of that.” 

Ominis had joined MC in crying, silent tears running down his face. “And then you cast an unforgivable curse, after you promised me on our wedding day that you never would! Again, I know it was necessary, but knowing you did it brought me back to fifth year and all the pain we went through then. I love you, MC. I truly do, but you hurt me.”

MC’s heart ached. For the first time since they had been home, she threw her arms around Ominis, holding him tight. He returned her embrace, and they both cried on each other’s shoulders. After several minutes of crying, MC pulled her head away slightly so that she could look at her husband. The whites of his eyes were red and his cheeks were wet, but he was still so beautiful to her. They hadn’t even shared a kiss since being home either, and she took the opportunity of Ominis’s wall coming down to pull him in for a kiss. Her kiss was gentle and soft for a moment before she kicked up the intensity. She lightly nibbled at his lip which drew a soft moan from his lips. His moan awakened a feeling in her, a feeling she hadn’t felt in almost a week now. She ignored the feeling for the moment to say her piece to Ominis. 

“I love you Ominis, and I’m so terribly sorry for everything. I love you and only you, not Sebastian. Sebastian may have been my first love, but you’re the one I want to spend my life with. I chose you and I will always choose you. And I’m sorry about the curse. I was scared and the only thing on my mind was getting back to you however I could. When I married you I made you a promise that I would do anything for you, this is the extent I’d go for you to keep you safe. My love for you knows no bounds. My love for you will never die.”

Ominis was the one who pulled in for a kiss this time, Ominis’s kiss being even more passionate than MC’s. MC let out a whimper as her hands came up into his hair, running her fingers through it. The fervor of their kissing resulting in MC bumping into the kitchen table. They both giggled as they temporarily broke apart. MC took a hold of Ominis’s hand leading him into their bedroom.

As soon as they crossed the threshold into their room, their lips met once again, their tongues intertwining, moaning against each other’s lips. Without breaking the kiss, they ripped each other’s clothes off like feral animals. Once they were both undressed, MC made sure Ominis was the one who’s back was facing the bed before lightly pushing him down and straddling him. He started to protest, eager to be the one pleasing her right now, but MC shushed him. “Please, I know you’ve been upset with me. Let me make it up to you.”

MC latched onto Ominis’s neck, biting and sucking the skin there. Ominis let out an appreciative moan in response, relishing in the thought of MC leaving marks on his neck. After several more marks had been placed on his neck, MC trailed her lips along his body, delicately kissing every beauty mark he had scattered across his chest. She then moved her head down towards his navel, where she kissed her way down as she took Ominis’s length into her hand, his tip already leaking. She gave him a quick squeeze before she began to slowly stroke him, Ominis responding to this with desperate moans. MC loved seeing her husband a mess underneath her, and she gazed up at him with loving eyes. Without removing her eyes from him, she planted a quick, soft kiss to his tip before taking him into her mouth, lowering her mouth far down his length. 

She began to bob her head up and down Ominis’s length, Ominis encouraging her as she went. “Keep going, darling, you’re doing so well! Your mouth feels incredible!” he moaned out. Tears prickled her eyes as she continued to take his full length, his tip hitting the back of her throat every time she brought her head down, but she was grateful the tears were from something enjoyable this time. Ominis’s hands came up into her hair and she stilled her movements, knowing exactly what Ominis wanted, as he began to thrust his hips into her, roughly fucking her mouth.  After several thrusts from him, he slowed his pace. “I’m so close, darling!” he gasped out. MC knew this was her cue as she released Ominis from her mouth and went back to straddle him. 

She lined her entrance up with Ominis, and lowered herself onto his length until he was fully inside of her. They both let out groans at the feelings, and MC began to roll her hips, Ominis’s hands coming up to grasp her ass as she did so. “Oh my love, you’re so perfect. I love you!” Ominis was rapidly coming undone under her as the bedroom filled with the sounds of their love-making. “I love you too!” MC moaned, rolling her hips faster and faster as her release hit, hot waves of pleasure crashing over her. Ominis’s peak came shortly after, whimpering as his warm liquid filled MC to the brim. She rolled off of him quickly, trying to not let too much of Ominis’s seed drip out as she did so, and turned to face him on the bed. 

He turned to face the direction he had heard her lay on and he reached for her, pulling her into a passionate, loving kiss. They exchanged another set of “I love you”s before wrapping their arms around each other and, for the first time in almost a week, falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

------------------------

MC entered the dining room to join her husband at the table for their little “celebration”, if you could call it that. Sebastian was sitting across from Ominis, and on the table was a variety of food and drinks for them to devour. MC stood at Ominis’s side, his arm coming around her and pulling her close to him. He placed his other hand on MC’s stomach, loving rubbing the small bump that had finally started to show, their little one making their presence known. “Happy one year anniversary of being dead, my love!” MC giggled and leaned down to kiss Ominis before sitting down with the boys to enjoy their celebratory meal. 

They had done it, officially. They escaped the clutches of Ominis’s family. They still believed he was dead, and to this day had not discovered their secret. After MC and Ominis had made peace, Ominis made peace with Sebastian. Although Sebastian still cared deeply for MC as a friend, he had accepted the fact that this was all they’d ever be, and he was happy with that, so long as he had MC and Ominis to call his best friends. Once everything had been resolved between them, Sebastian began a routine of checking up on the Gaunts every now and then, specifically checking to make sure Ominis’s tomb went undisturbed, which it still remained. They were finally free. They could live without fear. They could actually start a family together, which they had already started working on. They could have the life they always wanted together. 

Sebastian took note of the amount of pastries MC was piling onto her plate. “Someone’s hungry!” he teased. “Oh shut it! You know I need to feed your godchild too right?” The trio laughed as they continued their meal, joy radiating throughout the home.

-------------------------

[hoshigray]

yk that one like idek how to describe it but its like the official art n its gojo squatting LOW and he got his legs all spread n he playing w his blindfold. i think i just got horny describing it but wtv anyways. i literally love that art with every bone in my body and i hope the person at mappa who drew that knows that i love them so much and i want to thank them for it everyday of my life.

- megan anon

YUH, I KNOW WHICH ONE YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!!!

FIRST OF ALL!! the way I'm not that big of a gojo girlie that much, but the way the animators made his face look kinda...🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️like he's such a cocky mfer, CLOSE THOSE LEGS, SLUT!! And it's not any better that I can like hear him say the most teasing, condescending shit to you while squatting like this up in the air like bro??? I hate him sm, like have some decorum, whoring out in public like omg!

Second, whoever in MAPPA that was involved with this creation has no idea how much of a gravitational pull it has on the Gojo girlies across the globe. This is nearly just as much of a reset as that one animator behind Haikyuu!! who was let go after making homoerotic art of the hq!! characters, looool.

[charlenasaxen]

Favorite Quotes - Queen of Hearts pt. 2

“He had murdered her beloved brother, Charles—once the infamous Mad Hatter—by throwing him out a window.”

“They knew Wardley, the love of her life, had promised to come for her”

“These trees of the Twisted Wood knew who drew the location of the stars night after night.”

“I will learn to survive, she thought. I will wait for Wardley and then we will find a boat and sail to the Other Worlds.”

“I will take Wardley here one day, she thought, if I can find it again.”

Several trunks twisted accusingly in her direction.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, forgive me.” She rested her now-bleeding hand against the raw wood, feeling the scars.

“Morte stepped back and let out a bellow. It was a deep, terrible sound, a war cry, and it chilled Dinah to the bone”

“Cradling the wet pelt in her arms, Dinah brought it before Morte”

“she absently had watched a red-striped otter flit in and out of a stream”

“The trees had converged in a thick canopy of flowering branches, interweaving with each other to create a solid tunnel of flowers”

“He was running because he could; from his mouth erupted happy whinnies. His body flowed like water”

“This time she was able to enjoy it—the world flying past, the greens and purples of the tunnel blending”

“I’m flying! she thought.

Daring to reach one hand above her head, she let her fingers trail the heads of thousands of fuchsia orchids”

“Charles’s body, lying broken on a stone slab. His beloved servants, Lucy and Quintrell, their throats”

“The sound of the trumpets blaring from the castle and the Cards who had swarmed out of it, so ready to kill their princess.”

“where one of the Heart Cards she had killed sat on a log, softly playing a lute, a cat lounging lazily on his shoulder.”

“Dinah hadn’t been allowed to touch her mother, or even to go near her bedside. She stood sobbing in the doorway”

“eyes finally trained on Dinah as she whispered her good-byes”

“Be gentle, my dear, take heart. Be a good queen. Take care of your brother.”

“I will. I love you. I love you.”

The hint of a smile brushed across Davianna’s face. “I love you too. . . .”

“bells were ringing throughout the kingdom, and the sound of them rose up through the courtyard”

“Long live the future Queen of Wonderland.” He placed the crown on her head, the heat of it scorching”

“Harris carried her out of the room, and as he turned, Dinah was given one last glance at her mother’s face, her beauty siphoned away by death”

“could see the fear in Harris’s eyes as the hot crown was laid on her head.”

“She watched silently as a fiery red hawk danced and dipped over the horizon, such a thing of beauty.”

“rays of sunlight shot through the tree, and suddenly it hummed with life, as if lit from inside”

“The house was one large circular room with a beautiful high-vaulted ceiling. At the front of the room sat a cold fireplace, cozied up to a sitting area”

“She said a silent thanks to whoever baked this bread and grew these onions”

“Broken jars of the amber tree syrup littered the ground around him. Dinah felt all the air rush out of her lungs”

“As he ran, the sun disappeared over the Yurkei Mountains and all was black”

“but she would not be taken to the Black Towers. She would force them to kill her, and she would try her best to kill her father.”

“That was her only purpose on this night; She would avenge her brother”

“Hide,” whispered a voice in the darkness. “If you want to live, don’t fight. Hide.”

“He killed Charles, she thought. And I will kill him now, a shadow in the darkness. Yes, my king, come ever closer.”

“pressed herself against his black coat, becoming invisible once more. Black on black, a shadow at midnight.”

“She dreamed of a deck of cards on a glass table, being played by a black glove”

“Hearts. Spades. Diamonds. The king. The king. The king.”

“It wasn’t my toy. It was for my brother.”

The Spade grimaced.

“No, yeh don’t. That handsome stable boy might have taught yeh a few things”

“Wardley?” At his mention, everything in the world seemed to stop. “What do you know about Wardley? Is he alive?”

“Ah, now yeh want to talk.”

“Dinah frowned. Morte would definitely not come if she whistled.”

“but what else could she do? She could no more stop breathing than turn away from knowing Wardley’s fate.”

“That was you. You told us to hide.”

“Aye. And if I hadn’t, yeh would be headless right now, since yeh were determined to fight an entire army.”

“to capture her—eh, you—dead or alive”

“The passion with which yeh had defended that silly wooden toy for yer brother had shown me that yeh could never do such a thing”

“a sword in yer hand, the cloak trailing behind yeh. I watched in awe”

“The execution of such a handsome young Card, one who was so well liked and potentially the next Knave of Hearts, would surely be frowned upon”

“Wardley, once the brightest star in Wonderland, would be mocked for the rest of his life, all because he had saved hers”

“as the beautiful twisting crown that Charles had made was lowered”

“I will never see the palace again.” Or Harris. Or the beautiful stained-glass heart”

“There are worse places to be laid to rest, she thought. At least I’m here under the stars”

“It was the hawk, the tracking hawk, its beautiful deep red feathers mottled”

let out a yell and hopped away. “Yeh bit me! Who bites someone?”

“This news broke Dinah’s heart, and afterward there wasn’t a day that she didn’t think of Harris’s kind face and soft hands.”

“now he was in pain. It was unforgivable”

“To her devastation, she learned that Emily had been beheaded for treason”

“Her life was like nightfire—a place that once burned with bright hope, now nothing more than a flickering blackness”

“the motion giving Morte’s new leather reins a shake, a gift from the Spade. Morte regarded them humorously”

“Her childishness convicted her and she felt her face flush with shame.”

“I lay beside my love. The next day, I buried Amabel and Ioney under their favorite berry bush”

“When at last my vengeance was complete, I left their bodies in the Twisted Wood, just like they had left my Amabel to die”

“Dinah stared at the Spade as fat drops of rain drenched them both. Lightning snaked across the gray sky. “Vengeance. This is why I help yeh.”

“someday we will both have justice for the loved ones taken from us.”

“The walls around them were alive, raising their voices in a hissed chorus. Evil, evil, evil”

“The light blazed through the dark. She burst through into its glorious pinkness and fell to her knees”

“There was nothing sweeter than being alive. Morte whinnied happily beside her, rolling on the soft carpet of flowers”

“The flowers radiated a warm heat when they popped open, which accounted for the heavenly air”

“The valley was deep and long, a maze of color and fantastic curling shapes”

she blindly ran, arrows falling around her like rain.

“Morte!” she screamed. “Morte!”

“You will not touch my steed this day, nor spill my blood. I do not fear death from your arrows, but you should fear my sword”

“waited to see Charles’s happy face, just on the other side of the rabbit hole”

“The ground was covered by a lush, bluish-green grass. Horses were everywhere, roaming free—eating, running, sleeping.”

Dinah saw Charles’s tiny body crumpled under a starry sky. Her voice rose. “I have nothing but hatred for the king.”

“made her dreams vivid and joyful. Charles, weaving feathers into a hat. Harris, adjusting his spectacles while they feasted on wine and grapes.”

seeing Charles on the stone slab. “Don’t be sorry. It would be fitting to die like my brother.”

“She danced around Bah-kan, and once managed to land a hard blow just above his ribs”

“She suspected his pressing appointment was with one of the Yurkei women who was fond of watching him bathe every day”

“Yes, she could be happy here, perhaps in time. There was no Wardley, so a truly perfect life was ruled out”

“she knew that she was being led, and yet the smell was everything she missed. Harris and Wardley and warm baths and the palace.”

“Cheshire’s wicked grin seemed to stretch to the end of the valley. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Tell me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you where you sit,” she hissed

“My mother. How dare he? Dinah was on him in a second, grabbing his neck”

he lowered his voice significantly, and Dinah felt chills rush up her spine. “Perhaps from the night I saved your life”

“The night when I told you to go now, and yet, like an idiot, you visited Charles’s chamber instead?”

“Cheshire was the stranger who had saved her life? She stopped struggling and stood stunned”

“I guess we’ll start at the very beginning, since most of the things I dabble in start with me anyway.”

“You’re smart, like me. I mean, gods know people have tried to poison me over the years. Adorable.”

“Together we conceived a child and named her Dinah. You, my beautiful and strong daughter.”

“seeing the love of your life dying in front of you and being able to exchange only formal, pleasant words of comfort, your heart feeling like it will burst inside your chest.”

“I dared not say anything, because who would watch over you if I was executed?”

“so unlike mad Charles, with his blond hair”

Cheshire smiled and looked down at the table. “I had already interceded where I dared to make sure that you had a good childhood.”

“I arranged for the Ghanes to move into the palace so that you might have a friend in Wardley”

“I convinced the king to hire gentle Harris as your guardian”

“so that you and your mother could have some peace.”

“After all, I knew my daughter to be intelligent and curious, just like me.”

Dinah’s throat was dry and stinging.

“She stared at Cheshire as he continued, but all she saw was Charles”

“could not hide my horror when he told me that he had just thrown Charles from a window”

“I knew that every moment of my life had boiled down to this one. How could I help save my daughter without revealing the truth?”

“I ran—how I ran—first to the kitchens and then to the weapons room. I knew you would never survive without food in the wild.”

“I watched you sleeping—my daughter, the pride of my heart, with a face like her mother’s and a fierce intelligence not unlike my own. I had never seen you so close.”

“I vowed I would do whatever it took to help you survive. Then you awoke . . . and tried to kill me.” He gave a chuckle.

“I believe she was glad to receive the crown. The king left immediately after to resume the hunt.”

“as soon as I knew that you were safely in Sir Gorrann’s care, I quietly took my leave from the king’s side and followed an alternate path”

“Please forgive me for my delay.” He gestured to the elaborate table. “One would not call me a light packer.”

“But, finally, here we are, father and daughter, reunited at last, without secrets or lies between us. I have longed for this moment.”

“Tea, my daughter?”

“Kneeling before her, he bowed his jet-black head in the moonlight”

“Why? Because you were born to wear the crown, and I will not see Davianna’s daughter slowly waste away.”

“a ring of hearts that blazed like fire. The crown she had left behind. Cheshire picked up the crown and lowered it onto her head.”

“His voice boomed through the trees. “Rise, Dinah, and become the Queen of Hearts. It is time to embrace your fate.”

“She ran her fingers lightly over them. Harris would have loved to see this.”

“things changed. Dinah, I’ve grown a bit fond of yeh, and I’ll fight beside yeh, whatever yeh decide.”

his face etched with the love of a father.

“Yeh remind me of my Ioney”

“when she was a child in her mother’s arms, when Charles was still alive”

“Be quiet! Do yeh long to be pecked to death?”

“We become who we must to overcome pain and to make things right again”

“I will have the crown that my brother made for me. I will take it with fury and swords.”

“they rose into the air in an ever-widening spiral, blocking out the stars”

“A crowd of Yurkei was gathering, and their voices gave way to silent awe as she walked down the steep path”

“Cheshire, his purple robes billowing in the wind and his hands resting together”

“Dinah’s newfound father came with his own set of demands: he would take his seat as the queen’s main adviser”

“while Cheshire was constantly trying to engage her, she couldn’t bring herself to be kind to him, not yet”

“Since he had arrived, Cheshire had given her a number of gifts—a lovely diamond brooch in the shape of a cat”

“without her noticing, the blade and her body had become one”

“Then again, they had to live in the Darklands, which to Dinah seemed to be punishment enough”

“the women of the Yurkei presented Dinah with a gift: a suit for battle, adorned with elements representing both Hu-Yuhar and Wonderland”

“The collar was lined with soft white gossamer feathers plucked from young birds”

“Cheshire put his hand over his heart and gasped. Sir Gorrann, steps behind him, raised his eyebrows.”

“giving her healing tinctures and murmuring quiet prayers for her success”

“I want him back. He is no good to you dead. We need him.”

“Dinah felt the crown heavy upon her head. “I swear it on my brother’s life, on Charles’s name.”

Dinah was already climbing down the ladder. “Then we will all be dead anyway. Good night.”

“Morte had been so happy to see her that he only stomped around her three times”

“They ran through the valley for hours, the thundering of his hooves scaring the other wild ponies into submission”

Their faces were alarmingly happy.

“What are you staring at? Where are the warriors? Have they already killed each other?”

“the rider was smaller, with a mane of curly brown hair blowing in the . . .

Dinah didn’t feel her body start to move, but soon she was sprinting”

“WARDLEY! WARDLEY!”

He abandoned his horse, sprinting toward her as she screamed his name.

“WARDLEY!”

They collided in the middle of the field in a tangle of limbs and a crushing embrace.

Wardley was kissing her forehead, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

“I thought I would never see you again!” sobbed Dinah.

“I’m here now. I’m here. Shhh.”

“don’t you know? I’m here to command your army.”

“He’s here, she thought. He came for me. I wasn’t wrong to believe he’d find me.”

“Wardley had known Dinah her entire life, in the intimate way”

“recounted her story, alarmed at how dangerous everything seemed in retrospect”

Dinah rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen you bathe a thousand times.”

“That is true.”

“after she had stabbed him (way too deep! he was kind enough to remind her)”

looked surprised to see Wardley soaking wet and Dinah watching silently.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Dinah let her hand rest on his thick curls, her face cracking into a smile”

“Her hands slid down his hair, tracing his jawline, pulling his face upward”

“You are surely not the same girl that I kissed under the Julla Tree. You’ve grown strong!”

“He reached out and tugged playfully on her braid, and Dinah’s fierce heart melted”

“He demonstrated by breaking off half of the kitchens, folding it flat, and then putting it back”

“Sir Gorrann stepped in front of her, his sword drawn and trembling as he pointed it at his old commander”

“He’s an incredible monster, isn’t he?” They both glanced over at Morte as he happily stomped a toad to death.”

so enchanting, a world of soft pink bubbles and warm light. She shrugged. “It feels like love.”

“And that’s why it’ll kill yeh,”

“They came to me how they came to me. You did not come here to ask questions about the pillows.”

“Keep your temper, Queen of Hearts.”

Morte was beside her now, and she weakly pulled herself up”

Dinah heard Wardley’s voice ringing above the commotion. “What the hell happened? Give her to me! Bring Cheshire now!”

“Wardley leaned his face over hers. “You can close your eyes, Dinah. I’m here.”

“happy to fall asleep in the arms of the one she loved most.”

“What happened?”

Cheshire resumed lightly patting her head

“She looked up at Cheshire with amazement. “How does one make warm pies in the wilderness?”

“he explained its full effects. My dagger at his throat helped a bit, I think. ”

“where I could love you both proudly. And yet, by doing that, I would deny you the crown”

“taking care with each corner. When he was done, a tiny paper mouse remained”

“You’re up!” His long arms wrapped around her shoulders, and Dinah gladly let him pull her against his body.”

“pushing her hair aside to whisper in her ear. Dinah’s heart beat rapidly as his breath brushed her cheek.”

“Do you believe we can win? As the onetime future Knave of Hearts, do you think we will win?”

a lock of curly brown hair fell over his eyes. Dinah felt her heartbeat quicken. “Take a walk with me, Dinah. There’s something I want to show you.”

“waterfall flowed up from the middle, its stream turning into mist”

“I prayed that I could take you here one day, that you would wake up.”

A smile crept over his face, so lovely that it hurt her heart. “Wonderland is a pretty wondrous place”

“Yes, but . . . what if he doesn’t? What if he puts on a helmet, and I don’t recognize him?”

“the way his sculpted muscles tensed under his shirt. He had become a man since she had seen him last.”

“I will kill you before I let the king torture you. And I hope you will do the same for me.”

“The last time that I get to speak with you as a friend, and not as a commander to his queen.”

“he grabbed the back of her head roughly and pressed his lips hard against hers. Dinah gasped at the force with which he kissed her. It was a hungry kiss.”

“feeling the muscles rippled across his shoulders as he pressed down against her. A whimper escaped his lips”

“As he kissed her furiously, Dinah felt a wet tear drip down his face onto her cheek.”

“what is wrong? What are you doing?” Her eyes traveled over the face she knew so well.

“Dinah felt the creepings of a familiar dark emotion as she looked up at the man she loved so much: rejection.”

“I want to be your king, your husband, your lover. But I cannot . . .”

prickly laughs tearing her into pieces. “It was the only thing that ever mattered, Wardley.”

“I COMMAND IT!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “OBEY ME!”

“how just moments ago, his lips had been on hers. She bit down on them so hard that she tasted blood.”

“She clutched Morte’s mane, driving him harder, faster, until the two of them moved over the earth in a blur of blackness”

“If she could not quench the fire burning within her, she would set Wonderland ablaze”

“His ancient fingers, once used to turn the pages of glorious books of history and language now struggled to fold a tiny piece of paper”

“consoling himself with his own voice. “Remember, my dear, it’s not the size of the paper, but the size of your skill”

“Harris, how long is forever?” she had asked.

Harris had smiled. “Sometimes, just one second.”

“The crane stared back at him, bobbing slightly.”

“The queen was coming. He knew it. That was not the question.

The question was who would she be when she got here.”

[americxn]

colin x reader! riding colin and then he gets a call and has to answer but ur a tease

You, dear anon, have impeccable taste.  wordcount: 1.9k warnings: riding, penetration, cockwarming kinda thing

Interrupted (Colin x female reader)

The shrill ringing of Colin’s phone cut through the breathy cacophony of your mingled moans, the device buzzing and vibrating on the hard surface of the bedside table it resided on.  The column of Colin’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his head thrown back against the pillows and his breathing uneven. You slowed the movements of your hips, your slick thighs quivering as you leant forwards, palming his phone whilst laying a tender nip to the side of his neck. Handing the phone to Colin, he murmured an exasperated curse before holding the phone to his ear, trying in vain to calm his breathing. You sat back, his cock spearing slightly deeper into you as you did so, causing you to harshly suck your lower lip in between your teeth, biting down hard. “Hello?” Colin spoke casually down the phone after taking a vital second to regain his composure, though his voice trembled slightly as he addressed whoever was down the line. “Yes, this is he.”  You clenched the inner walls of your tender cunt, letting out a shaky exhale as it forced Colin’s thickness to press into the entirety of your slickness. He looked up, shooting you a warning glance before continuing to speak on the phone. 

You itched to continue to move on him, your hips rocking almost imperceptibly back and forth in order to try and gain some traction. Colin shot out his spare hand, gripping the top of your thigh in silent order to stop moving. But you couldn’t. You had both been so painfully close to release and now your high had receded due the interruption. His harsh grip on your thigh only fuelled your intense arousal and you whimpered softly as you picked yourself off his cock slightly, only to slide down its length once more. Colin shuddered, his eyes drifting closed at the movement. His grip on your flesh tightened to the point of pain when he shook his head tightly, clearing his throat before continuing to engage in conversation through his phone. You were tempted to snatch the damned thing from his and chuck it across the room, but instead opted for another experimental rise and fall on his cock, wanting nothing more than for Colin to buck his hips up into you as he had been doing before answering the phone, allowing his cock to plunge even deeper inside you. With a poorly repressed broken moan, you repeated the action slowly, drawing out the pleasure that the simple movement gave you. Below you, Colin’s eyes shuttered, his jaw clenching as he listened to whoever was talking on the phone whilst putting all of his might into ensuring that his own pleasure remained inaudible.  You clit pulsed steadily as you seated yourself fully back onto cock, reaching forwards to grip onto the collar of the shirt that you had unbuttoned to display the strong panes of his chest. Your need to touch him, to feel him, was indescribable and so you let your lips convey your desperation for him, kissing, nipping and licking along his collarbones, up his throat and to his chin. He emitted the smallest of groans when your teeth closed over the underside of his jaw, his head pressing further back into the pillows to give you better access to his soft skin as you sucked at the flesh you had clamped in your hold, releasing moments later to run your tongue over the small hurt. But still, Colin remained on the phone, his voice getting progressively higher and breathier with desire as you leaned in once more to trail your teeth and tongue to the other side of his jaw. “Yes, I’ll talk to him about it when I’m in the office tomorrow and call you back.” Your stomach leaped at his unsteadily spoken words, hopeful that the conversation was soon to be over. Colin’s sharp jaw bone was pronounced beneath your tongue as you trailed your lips across it, lingering to plant several soft bites and kisses to his skin. As you did so, you pushed your hips down, aware that you had slipped halfway off his cock in the process of leaning over his body.  He seemed to grow even harder as you did so if that was even possible, pressing into you with more persistence. This drew more wetness to flood from your filled cunt, pooling slightly at the base of his dick. You moved your lips to the shell of his ear, licking up its softness once before letting out a breathless moan, knowing exactly what it would do to him before walking your hands back down his body, slowly pushing yourself upright again. You sunk further onto him, your own head tipping back and your mouth parting slightly. Below you, Colin’s swallow was audible, his eyes now glued to your body as you trailed one of your hands down to your cunt, rubbing at your clit harshly as the other hand came to grapple with one of your tits, fondling the soft mound whilst you pleased yourself. Colin’s eyes were wholly dark as he watched this, his mouth going utterly dry as you let out a soft gasp, your eyes drifting closed. Your fingertips brushed against the very bottom of his shaft as you drew ever larger, harder circles onto your clit, drawing in a hissing breath. That small touch almost had him shooting his cum up into you. Colin adjusted himself, leaning forwards whilst propping himself up on one elbow and reaching forwards, batting away the hand that worked feverishly on your clit.  His eyes flicked up the yours as his fingers replaced where your hand had just been, muttering a casual “yes” of agreement into the phone as three of his fingertips came to rest on your clit, beginning to work in painfully slow circles. He knew just how much pressure to apply to have your eyes rolling and your body jolted slightly as his fingers drew even more pleasure from you. Unable to stop yourself, you once again began to rock back and forth on Colin’s cock, gasping when he brushed against that hidden spot deep within you that had your toes curling with each forward rock of your hips. Your other hand moved from where it entertained your tit, both hands raising to clamp over your own mouth as your pleasure mounted and mounted, a light sweat breaking out all over your febrile skin, a series of pants falling from your mouth and slipping through the barrier your fingers had made. “Yeah, of course. Well thanks for getting in touch with me. As I said, I’ll ring you tomorrow after I’ve spoken to him about it and let you know what he says... yeah, no problem. Okay, bye.” Colin’s phone was thrown to the floor within a second of hanging up, his hands coming to grab onto your hips. “You wanna fuck me so badly, huh?” He demanded through gritted teeth, his nails digging into the skin of your hips as you were finally allowed to resume your audible moans.  “Then go on. Fuck me. Fuck yourself on my cock until you can’t hold yourself up anymore.”  You whimpered at his roughly spoken words, merely being able to nod pitifully at his order as you picked yourself all the way off his cock before slamming yourself back down on it fully. Again and again and again. Colin fell back against the pillows as your ministrations began to draw deep moans and muttered encouragements from him, his eyes flicking between your ecstasy-twisted face and the bouncing of your tits as you fucked yourself furiously on his dick. “Colin.” His name was a drawn out sigh on your lips and it seemed to be a sort of unleashing for him, as he began to crash his hips up to meet yours, fucking you savagely with a force that drew all the breath from your lungs. A broken shriek fell from your parted lips, your chest heaving for a satisfying gulp of air as he rutted into you, the force of his upwards thrusts causing your body to bounce under his strength; you had to work in order to stop your body from being thrown off him. Crying out, you fell forwards onto Colin’s chest, your legs giving out as waves and waves of intense pleasure slammed into you, each ripple of euphoria bringing you closer and closer to release. “Colin, I -” You gasped when his hands fell onto your ass, holding your body to his and ensuring that you couldn’t maneuver so much as an inch away from his cock as he pounded you. “Look at me.” He growled, his nails scraping your soft skin as he trailed his hands up your spine, finding your hair and yanking your head back. With a bleated cry, you slid your pleasure-hooded eyes to his, Colin’s unusually rough treatment of your body both surprising you and turning you on immensely. Your body shook, tears welling in your eyes as the pleasure he was giving you had you almost reduced to sobs. “Are you gonna cum?” You nodded, his hands holding your hair tightly and forcing your head to tip back even further, fully exposing your throat to him. Colin hummed roughly at your response. “I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum, too. Your little pussy is gonna make me - ah... cum.” You blinked, trying to clear your blurring vision as you nodded, your mouth fully agape as you nodded, not being able to find the words to verbally encourage him to his own release.  Without warning, Colin slammed up into you, his swollen head hitting deep against your sensitive walls. That single thrust caused your eyes to roll, Colin’s own orgasm barrelling into you at the sight of the whites of your eyes, your pupils lost in pleasure. He released your hair as you moaned with abandon, his arms wrapping around your shoulder blades to pull your face onto his chest, his own pants and low groans filling your ear. Your body writhed soundlessly on his as he kept your orgasm prolonged by continuing to thrust into you, his cum shooting deep and being held within you, his seed hot as it coated your inner walls. Your fingers trembled as you grappled with the material of his shirt, needing to grip onto something in a futile attempt to ground your mind that was lost to abundant pleasure. Colin recovered before you did, murmuring encouragements as you quivered, trapped in the throes of the intense aftershocks of your orgasm, your knuckles white as you gripped onto his shirt. “Fuck.” You exhaled weakly, not even trying to lift your head as Colin chuckled, leaning to press kiss to the top of your head. “Are you alright?” You nodded into his chest, the energy needed to lift yourself off his cock evading you.  You fell silent, enjoying the warm security of Colin’s tight hold around your shoulders, the way your head rose and fell with his laboured breathing as he, too, worked to recover from the intensity of his own orgasm. Your eyes drifted closed. After several minutes, when you had finally recovered enough energy to consider shifting off his now limp dick, you cracked open an eye. “That phone call better have been damn important.” Colin’s responding laugh rumbled through you, causing you smile as you pushed yourself up, lifting a leg to dismount from him and engaging in the familiar race against gravity as you trotted for the bathroom, Colin’s cum threatening to spill down your thighs. 

taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna (if you wanna be added or removed just let me know <3)

[eureka-its-zico]

The Last Of US

Summary: A government experiment unleashed upon the world turned yours completely upside down. Now, you fight for survival with Namjoon by your side. Inside all this madness, you two still find time for the one thing you both love and that brought you together.

A/N: Firstly, I want to thank @dearneverlander for always being my soundboard. If it wasn't for you, my friend, I would've deleted this. I would've stayed in my heavily seasoned feels about my writing and set it all on fire. Thank you. For being you. For existing and for letting me send you half-assed ideas at odd hours and partially written WIPs just for some feedback.

I genuinely hope whoever stops to read this small piece enjoys it. This is loosely based off of the video game of the same title. As always, Much Love - Jenn

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word count: 3092

Warnings: slight references to gore and death

This was your ritual even before the world ended. A time before electricity was only run by generators and candlelight. When cities weren’t reclaimed by the forests they’d destroyed and the animals they’d coveted like bloodsoaked prizes. Now, everywhere you looked the earth was taking back what'd been stolen: roads overturned by tree roots and grass; each expanding spider vein size cracks in the asphalt until it split apart. Flowers and weeds fighting to decorate the small plot of land. The hands of the gods were helping mother nature break apart the destruction mankind had created.

Trees and cherbury lived inside skyscrapers and houses. Their vines covered entire doorways and snaked inside windows to crawl over walls and through hallways. All of Mother Nature’s work to take back the cities only helped to disguise the spores that lived inside the dark of tunnels and basements. Unsuspecting scavengers finding out too late what lurked beneath. Their lungs flaring to life in a struggle for air with each new painful inhalation searing their lining until they were coughing up blood.

The world had ended by the hands of mankind. Just like every dystopian novelist and scientist claimed it would. The chaos that followed was beyond any disaster movie Spielberg or Michael Bay could’ve scripted.

Your memory of that day stemmed from your fingers mindlessly skimming over the edges of books. Your thoughts preoccupied with wondering what book he was going to choose that day. If he would whisper poems from Rumi into the hollow of your neck like he did with Frost. Would he choose to read Pride & Prejudice again, just because he knew you loved it, or would he read you his: Moyes’s’ ‘Me Before You’. It didn’t matter what it was as long as you shared it together.

Whatever you both agreed on, you knew it meant you would be somewhere smushed in a corner. Sometimes at a table, when it was available, with shoulders touching and practically sharing the same seat as you read the pages together. If you asked him to read it - wishing to hear the rich timber of his voice - he would. Indulging you under an old willow tree just outside the library. His chin resting softly on your head while his fingers weaved absentmindedly through your hair. He read the words in a hush tone that only made the vibration in his chest deeper; resonating against your cheek in a hum that turned your bones to jelly.

This was something Namjoon and you did ever since you met. Your hands both reached for the same copy of Kazuo Ishiguro’s new novel. When your fingers skimmed over the others, you could’ve sworn it was moments like this, before your eyes glanced up to greet him, that these were what romance movies were made of.

Namjoon looked stunned. His hand drew away first to tuck itself back into the pocket of his winter coat. A sheepish smile pressed his full lips so tight it almost made them disappear.

“You can go ahead. Take it, it's yours.”

The baritone of his voice was a shock. It was more of a shock when you reacted like a third grader with her first crush. Your cheeks flushed and eyes diverted away to look at the books aligned on the shelves. Your teeth drew in your bottom lip to bite at the sensitive skin until you held enough courage to look back up at him.

He was breathtaking.

Everything Greek gods’ were made of but with the humility they always seemed to lack, if literature was anything to go off of. All six feet of him seemed welcoming; warm and inviting. And that sheepish smile? It disappeared into an actual grin that lifted the corners of his eyes until they were dangerously close to disappearing. Showcasing how high his cheekbones really were.

Finding your voice you replied, “No, no I’m pretty sure you were here first.”

“Maybe, but I know you grabbed it first.”

“It’s okay I can just get the next one.”

Without missing a beat he grabbed it off of the shelf and held it between you. His head nodded gently to the empty spot within the shelves. “This is the last one. Are you sure you’re willing to wait that long for a restock?”

It was then that you grabbed enough courage and dug inside your purse. His curiosity peaked through with a curved brow as he watched you pull an old receipt and pin from within. Before you lost all sense of bravery, you quickly wrote down your name and phone number. Your fingers stashing it inside the book in his hand and gave him a wide smile.

“Whenever you finish it, give me a call. I’ll be waiting.”

“What if I’m a slow reader?” he teased.

“Something tells me you’re not.”

With one last parting smile you turned and walked away. Your heart racing and your mind scolding you for being so reckless. You didn’t know if he was a weirdo or worse, but you doubted it. Or well, you were willing to bet he wasn’t and if you were wrong…you felt willing to pay that price.

It didn’t take long for Namjoon to text you by that afternoon. His own offer for you to read it with him quickly being accepted. Two years later, it became an avid tradition. No matter how busy work got or assignments pulled you away: Namjoon and you always found one another inside libraries and your favorite bookstores. Your first kiss pressed between thrillers and fantasy with the scent of book pages ingrained in the fabric of your clothes.

You were waiting for him at the library the day ground zero happened. You could still recall the sounds from outside. Close, but muffled like a scream inside a blanket. The small shouts and scampering of dozens of feet struggling to gain speed on pavements. Car horns and screeching tires just before they collided with another piece of metal or the soft flesh of a body who’d gotten in the way.

It wasn’t until Namjoon raced around the corner, terror making his eyes wide until he seen you, that you realized something was wrong. He raced towards you making quick work of the library's long isles. When he reached you he didn’t kiss you on your cheek in greeting like he usually did. His hand lashed out to grab yours quickly before he began to drag you along. His head moving in every direction; seeking the safety of something he couldn’t quite see.

“Joonie, what is going on?”

“We need to get somewhere safe.”

“That’s not an answer! Namjoon, you’re really scaring me!”

And he was. You were no longer inside the security of the library. What awaited you outside was more than you could’ve imagined.

It took your brain a few moments to register what your eyes were seeing. The smoke from crashed vehicles rose around you, signaling the fires that rose up from overturned buses with people pounding on windows with purses and phones. Anything hard enough in an attempt to break the glass and escape. You couldn’t understand why they weren’t going to the back of the bus where the emergency exit was - why no one stopped to help them - until you heard ear piercing shrieks that forced your hand to protectively go over your ear. You tried to drop Namjoon’s hand, but he held on fiercely.

That’s when your eyes registered the ashen bodies of what was supposed to be a human being - spores growing from open wounds on their head and overflowing from their eyes - leaping onto running bodies. You saw such a creature inside the bus. Their arms flailing around inside and jumping onto screaming people with their teeth finding a home at the nape of their neck and-

You felt your vision begin to blur. You were going to faint as blood sprayed like some kind of terrible painting along the windows. This couldn’t be real. What was even-

“Y/N!” Namjoon was shaking you. His eyes pleading for you to come back to him from wherever you were. “Please, baby, I know this is a lot but we aren’t safe here. I need you to focus. We need to go.”

“Go where?!”

You could hear the hysteria in your voice. The way it laced itself inside your throat and forced your eyes wide. The screams were rising around you. Somewhere in the distance was that gunfire?

“My dad has a cabin miles from the city. We just need to get out of here and I can get us there.”

Deep down, you knew it was a plan of desperation. No way of knowing if it was sound enough to save you, but it was the best chance either of you had. You couldn’t answer him. Not without your hysteria turning it into a shriek. All you could give him was a nod. You could see Namjoon was trying desperately to keep his own terror at bay. His hands came up to stroke your cheek before he leaned down to place a quick kiss to your temple.

“Let’s go.”

He pushed his way through the other bodies who were stampeding around you. Families who’d come to the city for a fun day now clutching onto their children. Men and women dressed in work attire; flinging briefcases at oncoming attackers who came leaping from the shadows. You followed the lead of everyone around you. Your body cowering away from shadows and people as your lungs begin to burn from the strain of trying to keep up with Namjoon.

“We’re going to go left!” He shouted over his shoulder. “I parked just over-”

A scream that’d been building inside your belly came free, ripping your vocal cords to pieces, as two bodies collided on the pavement in front of you. The fall from an upper floor of the skyscraper making their bodies collide with a thick wet smack. What was supposed to be human beings no longer resembled that before you.

Namjoon crushed you against his chest. His hands bury you there in a weak attempt to shield you from the gore displayed on the sidewalk. He began to inch you away from the carnage but you were being pushed and shoved by fleeing bodies in every direction.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry but we have to go.”

You knew under normal circumstances Namjoon would’ve allowed you to mourn. To grieve, scream, or claw your way through whatever it was you were possibly feeling. Now wasn’t the time. He was focused on keeping you both alive and for you to help him you needed to comply. He reached back up to take your hand and you let him. Namjoon pulled you racing back through the growing throng of bodies. It wasn’t until you got closer to his parked car that the dread edged up your throat. Hot on the trail of bile before you had to let go of his hand to retch on the sidewalk.

There was no way the two of you were getting inside his car. It was piled between multiple cars. His red Audi the middle bud of a flower of metal - steaming with the beginning threat of a fire.

“Fuck! Fuuuuck!”

Namjoon ripped his beanie off of his head and screamed. His own panic threatened to consume him as his hands gripped the back of his neck. You didn’t know what to do. Namjoon was the planner. The one who always knew the right equations or the best move to make when things needed a new direction. Looking at him now, you knew that Namjoon was slowly fading. He was going to give in to his own dread.

You raced forward on your tip toes and took his face in your hands like he’d done to you minutes before. You brought him down as far as you could without making him strain and gently shook him. Namjoon’s eyes took a minute to center with yours. His own hands moving to grasp at your wrists, like a drowning man seeking a raft.

“Joonie, remember what you said? We can’t panic. We have to keep moving even if it means we have to do it on foot.”

Namjoon was looking at you, really looking, and you watched him begin to fight his panic attack. You watched the frenzied thoughts that’d dilated his pupils fade. The sharpness of his mind coming back until his hands he’d latched onto your wrists diverted to yours that had a hold of his face. You were breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. Watching him begin to follow until the axis of your world shifted back into place and the two of you began to breathe insync.

“Okay,” he swallowed, “Let’s get moving. We’ve already lost too much time.”

You knew it was his way of scolding himself. His disappointment wasn’t hard to miss in the depths of his voice. The somber timber that took over while the mania was replaced by a determined sadness causing your heart to ache. You wanted to tell him, your gentle giant, that it was alright for him to want to break down too.

When the world is going to shit - it’s only natural.

Namjoon wasn’t going to give you time to hug him. To tell him it was alright: that it will be alright. He grabbed hold of your hand and started jogging forward. His head bounced in every direction as he read street signs while narrowly missing an oncoming speeding car. It’d be dangerously close to doing more than fluttering his coat if it hadn’t been for your hand reaching out and thrusting him back towards you.

“Jesus, Joon,” you hiccup.

You weren’t even aware you were crying or when you’d actually started. Your hands were frequently brushing away tear-stained cheeks as you tried to keep up. Your eyes racing to keep track of all the chaos unfolding around you just to help keep him safe.

Namjoon carried you through street after street. The carnage that continued to grow sickeningly worse became overwhelming. At times, you were forced to trample over fallen bodies. A group of five or six of you running in the same direction to only end up being three was becoming normal in a matter of minutes. There was no way to fully avoid the constant clicking - the sounds of people dying. Eventually, you stumbled around the wrong corner. Ran through the wrong parking garage. Each time you both narrowly made it out and each time it was at the expense of another person’s life. The sickening part? You didn’t - couldn’t - feel bad. No. Instead, all you felt was relief at feeling Namjoon’s hand wound tightly around yours. Grateful he was still leading the charge forward with his long legs compelling yours to move.

Is this what life was like now? Being thankful someone else died just so you knew you were alive? That Joon was alive?

You were sure your legs were going to give out soon. Your lungs wheezed for air; burned for a moment of rest. You were about ready to give up when Namjoon noticed a bus that wasn’t crowded, its wheels moving, as a man at the door was attempting to add more people on.

“There! Right there, Y/N, do you see the bus? That’s our ticket out of here. Come on!”

“Joonie,” you wheezed. “ I can’t-”

“You can! I know you got this, baby. Just one more mile and we’re safe.”

He was desperate to keep you going. Desperate the way you were thankful when you both made it safe out of the hordes. You were each other’s person. In a world full of people, in all its madness, you’d found your soulmate. Now, the world itself attempted to tear you both apart.

It wasn’t until you were both safely added on to the bus - it’s wheels picking up speed towards an exit heading to the forest - that you wondered what would happen to the ring. The one Namjoon kept hidden, or what he thought constituted as hiding, inside his sock drawer. He didn’t have it inside the box. It just sat inside the drawer. The diamond sparkled as if to grab your attention on purpose when you went to put away laundry.

You were eager to grab it. To try it on just to see how it fit, but you couldn’t take that away from him. You wanted your reaction to having it put on your finger to be genuine. How silly it felt wrapped up in his arms, crammed into a section of the bus with dozens of other fleeing bodies, to miss something so trivial. Yet, as you escaped past the city limits and out towards the waiting forest, you couldn’t help but mourn normalcy one last time.

One Year Later

You wove your way between the library’s isles. Your booted feet made sure to move quietly through the scattered leaves and vines. One fatal step on a dry leaf could be all that was needed for a Clicker to hear you. The thought alone was enough for your hand to tighten on the hilt of the blade in your thigh holster. But you didn’t come here to battle Clickers or scavenge for supplies for the camp.

A few more rows down you finally saw Namjoon’s booted feet peeking out from your old spot in the corner of the library. You came around the corner to see him already smiling up in your direction. A book in hand with his arm open and waiting for you to slip in beside him.

You couldn’t help but respond to his smile with your own. Carefully, you slipped the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and placed it down beside his. Your body snaked in quietly beside him and enveloped itself around his warmth. You found your cheek resting against his chest and his chin on top of your head. Namjoon carefully began to open the first page of the book and, although he couldn’t read it to you like he used to, you both began to read it together in silence.

For the world became something monstrous and foreign, but inside your favorite places you were able to find small pebbles of normalcy. There was no place you’d rather be than inside the safety of Namjoon’s arms and the soft hum in his chest reading together in your secret place even at the end of the world.

[smells-like-mettaton]

Rating: T (for inherent neutral ending angst)

Summary: Toriel's old house feels like a mausoleum. She will gladly ignore chisp crumbs and lumpy mattresses for a place that feels more like home.  (Queen Toriel ending fic for Soriel Week 2021.)

Word Count: 5211

XXX

The bedroom was exactly how she left it. Her bed pushed up against the gray wall. A book about snails on the wooden desk. A knit sweater with the embroidered words "Mrs. Mom Lady" in the wardrobe.

Even after all this time, she could barely look at it without her soul splitting in two.

She'd known this wouldn't be easy. She hadn't seen this house in over a century. Still, she wasn't prepared for how Asgore had sealed up her old room like a tomb, a photograph of the day that everything went terribly, horribly wrong.

At least the last child was safe. They should not have had to take a life to save their own, but she doubted Asgore had given them a choice.  Her own soul felt more numb than anything.  To her, Asgore had died a century ago.

What was done, was done. And as usual, she was too late to do anything but sweep up the dust.

She backed through the doorframe, shutting the door with a quiet click. She would have to return eventually, but for now, she yearned for a place with fewer painful memories.

"Hey, Your Majesty." A voice startled her as she attempted to escape the foyer. Luckily it was a voice she would always recognize.

"Hello, old friend." She turned and smiled at the monster leaning against the stair railing.

He was smaller than she expected, with that deep voice. Not that that was a bad thing. As for him being a skeleton, that had been apparent from the abundance of bone puns.

"You know the formality is unnecessary," she told him softly.

"Is it?" He shuffled from foot to slippered foot. 

In all her time of joking with him through the door, she had never expected him to be so cute. 

"Didn't want to assume, old lady."

He winked, and she felt a weight lift from her chest. At least one monster would still treat her like a person, and not like a mythical figure returned to save them.

"Toriel," she introduced herself for the first time. He had to have heard already, but between rushing to the palace, scattering Asgore's dust, comforting their—her people… she hadn't had time to seek out her friend.

He seemed to feel comfortable walking right into her home, though. Did he ever visit Asgore when he was here? Her friend seemed like the type of monster who went wherever he felt like, and Asgore, for all his flaws, had never turned a monster away from his home.

"Sans." He held out a bony hand. "Sans the skeleton."

"Nice to meet you, Sans," she tested out the name and clasped his hand with her paw.

A loud pthbbbbbt echoed through the empty hall. Her eyes widened.

"Wow, Toriel. That's, uh, some way to make an introduction." He winked.

She squinted down at the inflatable object in his hand, the source of the farting noise. Then she pretended to ignore it.

"It certainly is. I was not aware that skeletons were capable of flatulence."

His eyelights gutted for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"Your jokes are even better in person," he said once he composed himself.

His laugh set her soul fluttering. In all their conversations through the door, he'd never laughed like that. Maybe she should have tried fart jokes sooner.

"I am always happy to tickle your funny bone." She smiled, and his face tinged blue.

"Happy to be tickled. But, uh. I guess that's not all I'm here for?"

Her breath caught in her lungs. Of course he would not visit without a reason. 

"I suppose not. Would you like to have a seat?"

"It's nothing that serious," he assured her quickly. "I just thought you'd want an update on the kid."

"You've spoken with them? They are still here?"  She tried to keep the hysteria from her voice.

How could they have taken Asgore’s soul and not returned home?  Had the Barrier proven too powerful?

"No—geez, I'm making this sound worse." He ran a bony palm down his face. "They’re definitely gone.  Papyrus tried to call them nonstop.  Besides that, you know the big stuff. The king's dead."

Her lips drew to a thin line, pulling tight across her fangs.

"I can hardly fault them for that."

"Right." He stuck his hands back in his pockets. "I gotta be honest. The way the kid looked when I last saw them… I don't think they did it."

Her brow furrowed. She was inclined to hope that the child had not chosen violence.  They had been so sweet, so eager to talk and joke with the monsters of the Ruins, so quick to hug her even after she’d fought them.  It was hard to imagine them striking down Asgore.

"But… then what do you think happened?"

Sans shrugged. "Wish I knew. I kept watch best I could, but…"

"I could not expect you to come between them and your king." As much as she wished he could have. She had hardly expected him to agree to watch over the human at all.

“Couldn’t have even if I wanted to.  These bones aren’t as sturdy as they look.  Maybe I shoulda listened to my bro and drank more milk...” He grimaced and glanced away.  “Anyway.  Like I said, I don’t know what happened.  Just.  Be careful, okay?”

“Careful?” She blinked.

“Yeah.  You never know.” His gaze flickered to a potted golden flower on the end table next to the stairs.

“Sans.  If I did not know better, that would sound like a threat.” She crouched down, so she could better meet his eyesockets. “Is there something you are trying to tell me?”

“Man. First I rip one in front of a lady, then I threaten her.  I’m makin’ a great first impression.”  He rocked back and forth on his slippers. “Look. Toriel. I don’t wanna scare you, ‘specially since today must’ve been hard. Real hard.”

His eyelights bored into her irises. She found herself needing to look away.

“It has certainly been… interesting. Moreso than any day since I last saw this place.” She suppressed a shudder.

Change. Her life had been constant for so long.  There would be no more of that, now. Hopefully that would be for the better, but only time would tell.

“Yeah. Being flung away from everything you’re used to… don’t imagine that’s a cakewalk. Don’t want you to worry about freaks hiding in the shadows on top of that.”

Somehow, she felt he made more sense when he was on the other side of a door. Knock-knock jokes had a formula. Just another normalcy she had forfeited, she supposed.

“Please, Sans. If you believe I am in danger, you may say so.”

“Fine. So.” He grinned, and she couldn’t help a snort.

“Alright, I suppose I walked into that one.” She smiled, despite his warning. “Under normal circumstances, I would say I could handle myself. But I must admit you are more updated on the state of the kingdom than I.  Do you have any information that could help?”

“...Not really?” His grin turned sheepish.  “You look like a tough lady. I bet my bones are rattling over nothing.”

“I would still humer-us you.”

He gave her a funny look. “You’re actually taking me seriously?”

“Why would I not? You are my friend.  Perhaps… my only friend, at this point,” she admitted.  It would be foolish to ignore a warning, even if it was based on gut feeling. Or, whatever skeletons had in place of a gut.

“Well.  Uh.  If someone, something, was behind the king’s… yeah. If it wasn’t the kid, whoever else it was might still be around. So.” He coughed. “Sounds stupid when I say it like that, huh.”

“It does not.  I think it is sweet that you are worried.” He wouldn’t be able to see her blush, thankfully. It had been a long time since anyone had looked out for her.

“Geez, Toriel.” He rubbed the back of his skull. “You’re gonna ruin my reputation.”

“What reputation? Are you typically a monster with a heart of bone?” she teased.

“Nah. I just don’t worry. Too much work.”  It was difficult to tell if he was joking.  “Guess I can make an exception this once, though.”

“Why, thank you, my friend.”  She had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze his hand.  It would be more for her own comfort than his, so she did not act on it. “To be honest, your words are a relief. I do not mind the excuse to avoid this place.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised. “You got somewhere else you’d rather be?”

She both did, and did not. How could she explain without sounding like a clinging child?

...Perhaps that was the wrong metaphor. She would have preferred her children to be a little clingier.

“‘Cause, uh, if you don’t mind a bit of mess… my door’s always open.”

She blinked at the offer. Had he felt the thoughts stirring in her soul?

She didn’t want to be alone. Not again. And she had told him the truth: there were unlikely to be any other monsters she knew still around. Perhaps Gerson; she and Asgore had always joked that he would outlive them.

That joke seemed awfully morbid now.

“Sorry. Was that too forward? Our friendship’s built off closed doors; guess we should just take 'em one at a—"

"No," she interjected too forcefully. “No. I would love to visit your home.”

Though she had never set foot there, she already suspected it would feel more like a home than this place.

“You really—? Great.” His skull tinged the faintest blue. “Just, uh, know that it’s nothing fancy.”

Toriel smiled. “‘Nothing fancy’ sounds wonderful at the moment.”

Perhaps wherever he lived would be out of the way enough that news of her return would be delayed. If she could be lucky enough to pass for an ordinary monster… well, that was likely too much to wish for. It certainly wasn’t becoming of a queen to hide from her subjects.

Stars, there was so much to get used to. So many formalities to reacquaint herself with.  She hoped such things would wait until tomorrow.

Sans returned her smile.

“In that case, I know a shortcut.”

XXX

She handled the shortcut well for a first-timer. No stumbling on the other end, no complaints of nausea or dizziness. Of course, she was a Queen. A Boss Monster. Why would a magic trick ruin her composure?

Sans wanted to laugh. All this time, he'd been joking with the Queen. She didn't seem to mind, but she could just be “humerus”ing him.

...Nah. She had every excuse to ignore him if she really wanted to. Instead she'd actually taken him up on his offer.

He almost forgot to drop her hand once their feet landed in the soft snow. Heh. Who was he kidding? It was just nice to feel her fur under his fingers. To touch her, and know that she was real.

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up, reflecting the gyftmas lights strung haphazardly around the house's columns. "I remember this place!"

"You do?" Sans's browbone furrowed.

"I saw it while travelling from the Ruins to…" she trailed off.  To stop the kid from fighting Asgore.

Sans felt stupid for not trying to stop them himself.  Not that a kid that determined would’ve listened, anyway.  Still… he’d believed in them.  Hoped that by some miracle, they’d get ‘em out of this mess.

Heh. That was too much pressure to put on a kid, even a determined one.

"Yeah." He coughed quietly. "Guess we're hard to miss. Papyrus did something to the Gyftmas lights—even when the CORE lights go out for the night, ours stay on. Never figured out how he pulled that off."

Toriel laughed before seeming to realize something.

"I will get to meet your brother!" She clasped her hands together. "I wish it had not come about for such an unhappy reason, but I am excited nonetheless."

He chuckled. Her excitement was contagious. That was something she and Papyrus had in common already.

He pushed the door open, called out for his brother—and noticed the monster sprawled out on his couch.

"Oh." Sans blinked at Undyne, who was snoring so loudly, he should've heard it from outside. Guess he'd been a little distracted. "Uh. This is awkward."

"What is it?" Toriel hung back, her head ducking through the doorframe. "Is your brother sleeping? I would not wish to wake him. You said he rarely sleeps, did you not?"

"Nah, it's not him. Forgot his pal's house burned down. Actually, I'm sure you met her. Undyne? Captain of the Royal Guard?"

"I… yes, we met." Toriel edged inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "She looks far more peaceful now than she did this morning. From what I understand, my ex-husband was something of a father to her."

"Something like that." Sans nodded in agreement. There hadn't even been a Royal Guard until Asgore created the position for her. Sans wondered if Toriel would keep it around now that Asgore was gone.

Welp. It wouldn't hurt, what with his suspicions about Papyrus's friend "Flowery." 

(Maybe Sans should let Toriel sleep on the top floor rather than the couch anyway. No dirt for stray flowers to get into up there.)

"Should we be staring?" Toriel said with a soft chuckle.

Sans shook his thoughts away. "Sorry. Just thinking. I, uh…"

There wasn't room on the top floor. Sans's lumpy, crumb-dusted mattress was out of the question. That left only Papyrus's bed, which while rarely in use, had too much sentimental value to give to Toriel without asking. Where was Papyrus, anyway?

"Undyne!" His brother practically kicked in the door. "I have returned with nutritious—oh!"

Papyrus's sockets blinked at Toriel. Then at Sans. Then at Toriel again.

(Undyne let out another loud snore.)

"Sans?”  Papyrus dropped his groceries on the table next to the pet rock. “Why didn't you tell me we had another guest??"  

Because he was an idiot who hadn't planned past one impulsive offer. His face went a little blue.

"I guest you would figure it out," he managed to joke. 

Toriel let out a bleating laugh at that. The suddenness of it was enough to jolt Undyne awake.

"NGAHH!!" She tried to leap off the couch, but ended up rolling onto the floor. "I'm here, Asgore! I won't—oh."

Her single eye blinked up at Toriel. 

"Papyrus?" Undyne hissed through her teeth. "Why didn't you tell me the Queen was coming??"

"Because I didn't know!" Papyrus replied brightly. 

"I, uh, promise I'm usually more professional than this." Undyne summoned an energy spear and used it to push herself to her feet. The attack left a small char mark on the carpet. "I am at your service, Your Majesty."

Sans thought she looked real professional in a pair of Papyrus's MTT-brand crop top pajamas. Toriel didn't comment on that though, instead opting for a matronly smile.

"There is no need for that, Captain. I am not here on business, but as a friend."

That smile turned towards Sans, and he fought back a blush.

"Yeah. I was just gonna, uh, make some dinner. Y'know, welcome our queen back with some Snowdin hospitality."

"Dinner?" Papyrus squinted suspiciously. "You don't cook dinner. I cook dinner."

"First time for everything, right?" Sans winked to hide his embarrassment. 

Of course Papyrus wouldn't buy his excuse. But he really didn't want his brother and Undyne worrying on top of Toriel. Granted, it was Undyne's job to worry about security threats… but she'd tear up the house's foundation if she thought an enemy might be hiding anywhere in a five-mile radius. 

"Sans," Toriel chided him. "You do not owe me that."

"Wowie! You must be a great influence on him, Bald Asgore!"

Toriel blinked before bursting out laughing. Sans's grin widened. 

"Her name is Toriel, bro."

"Of course!! Where are my manners?" Papyrus bustled past him to shake Toriel's paws. "I am the Great Papyrus! It's an honor to meet you, Queen Toriel!"

"The honor is mine. Sans has told me so much about you," she said, and Papyrus blushed pink.

"You? Know the new queen?" Undyne whispered to Sans while Papyrus and Toriel got acquainted.

"You know me. I know everyone." He winked.

"She came out of nowhere."

"Yeah. My bro and I know what that's like."

Undyne huffed, but Sans didn't offer a more thorough explanation.

Papyrus's affronted shout signalled that Toriel had dropped her first pun.

"I take it back! This is the worst day of my life!!" 

Sans met Toriel's eyes, and they both laughed.

"I suppose I will have to help Sans in the kitchen as my pun-ishment," she said with a coy wink.

"Normally I would object to a guest cooking, but in this case I will make an exception!" Papyrus turned on his heel and grabbed Undyne's arm. "We will clean up the living room in the meantime! Try not to corrupt the queen any further, Sans!!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, bro."

He gave a quick wink to Toriel behind Papyrus's back, and they moved to the kitchen.

"Did I actually upset him…?" She asked once they were out of earshot.

"Nah. He's just dramatic like that. He'll drop three puns per sentence when he thinks I'm not listening."

He turned away, rummaging through the fridge for something edible they could cook.  Discreetly, he tucked his empty chisp bag behind Papyrus’s spaghetti-filled tupperware.

“Oh, good.  I would not want to make a bad first impression.”

“Pfft. You’d have to try real hard to do that, Tori.  My bro sees the best in everyone.”  He smiled and pulled a “pupperoni” pizza out of the freezer.  It wasn’t anything fancy, but at least it would be edible.

He turned around, pizza in hand, and found Toriel staring at him oddly.

“What?”  His sockets widened.  “Uh, you’re not vegetarian, are you?”

She shook her head quickly, her gaze skimming off of his like oil from water.

“Pizza sounds lovely.  It has been quite some time since I had one.”

Sans didn’t pry, but he couldn’t help wondering what her expression had meant.  Had he said something weird?

...Oh.  He’d called her Tori, hadn’t he?  He should know better than to use nicknames without asking.  Papyrus hated them.

“Please, allow me.”  She held out her paws, so she couldn’t be too upset.

He handed over the pizza, and he jumped when fire flared to life in her palms.  For a moment he thought the fire would scorch the pizza beyond recognition, but the flames were just pleasantly warm.  He’d never known a monster other than Grillby to have such careful control of fire magic.

“Heh.  I didn’t know you were so hot, Toriel.”

As soon as he said it, he clamped his jaw shut.  Geez, how stupid could he be?  Making bad jokes was one thing, but flirting with bad jokes?

The fire went out.  She looked up abruptly—er, looked away from the pizza.  He was still a good two feet shorter than her.

“Tori was fine,” she said, her voice soft.

“Uh,” he replied intelligently. 

She suppressed a giggle, and he was pretty sure his face burned hotter than her fire had.  He could stand to take notes from Alphys and throw himself in the trash.

“Or not.  Whatever is comfortable for you,” she reassured him.  “Now, should we eat dinner before it gets cold?”

Eating was hardly something he could screw up at.

“Sure,” then after a pause, he tested, “Tori.”

Forget her fire magic.  Her smile could’ve heated the pizza all on its own.

XXX

For once in a hundred years, dinner was a warm and energetic affair.  In addition to the pizza, Papyrus had tossed together a salad from his fresh groceries, and Sans had briefly stepped out to grab a few orders of wings and fries.  In the end there was plenty of food for four hungry monsters.

Papyrus apologized for the lack of seating, but Toriel didn’t mind sitting on the couch squeezed between Sans and Undyne, eating off of paper plates.  She couldn’t imagine anywhere she would have felt more comfortable.

Before long, though, the day’s fatigue caught up with her.  She supposed it was to be expected—she wouldn’t regain her social stamina all at once.  

Sans caught her eye, and he nodded towards the stairs as Undyne and Papyrus “owned” each other in an MTT-Brand fighting game.

“Sorry.  I know they can be a bit much.” Sans rubbed the back of his skull.  

“They’re lovely.  I wish I had the energy to keep up with them.”  She smiled.

He leaned against the banister, smiling down at them.  Papyrus had gotten the upper hand this time, and was punching the air with joy.

“Me too,” Sans said, still looking away.  “I was thinking.  If you want a place to rest for the night, my bed’s open.”

She blinked.  Her face seemed to catch fire.  That was rather more… forward than she was expecting.  Sure, she had enjoyed his lighthearted flirting, and much as she tried to deny it, feelings had been growing in her for a long time.  But to have him return those feelings? And so boldly? It was as unfathomable as it was unlikely.

“I can get ya some fresh sheets, and I’ll crash in the shed.  My bro set up an, uh, guest room there when the human was in town.”

Oh.  She rubbed the heat from her face while he wasn’t looking.  How foolish could she be, to think he would be implying…? Well.

“I would not force you out of your room,” she said.  “If your brother prepared a guest room, I am sure that would be adequate.”

He let out a quick laugh.  “Uh, you’re not used to my brother’s… decorating.  Seriously, I don’t mind.”

She sighed.  If he insisted, she supposed it would be rude to deny his hospitality.

“Alright.  Thank you very much, Sans.”

“Great.”  He smiled back at her, then went into his brother’s room.  She waited patiently, and only jumped a little when he suddenly reappeared from the right hand door.  Perhaps the two rooms were connected in the back by a bathroom.

“Hotel Sans, one vacancy.”  He winked while holding the door open.

She chuckled behind her hand.  “You really did not have to resort to this.”

“Heh, I wouldn’t call it much of a resort.  The bed’s not even queen sized.”  He rubbed the back of his skull.

The bed was smaller than she was used to, but it did have fresh sheets.  That was the only fresh thing about the room.  Chisp crumbs had been brushed under the dresser, and… that was a tornado.  A self-sustaining trash tornado.  Though at least there was a pine-scented air freshener suspended in it.

“Sorry, it’s… really not much.  Uh.  Probably kinda insulting, expecting the Queen to sleep—”

“It’s perfect.”

He blinked.  “Huh?” 

“I am no stranger to a few crumbs, Sans.”

She remembered days that bled into weeks that bled into months.  Months where she couldn’t bring herself to clean, could hardly bring herself to care at all.  Months that had grown fewer and farther between since she’d met a friendly voice behind a door.

“I would’ve vacuumed,” he said sheepishly, “but I suck at it.”

More embarrassingly loud laughter burst from her.  In front of Sans, though, she didn’t feel the need to curtail her joy.

“Thank you.” She poured as much sincerity as she could into her voice.  

“‘S no problem, Tori.”  A light blue tinge warmed his cheekbones.  How could he possibly look so adorable? “Bathroom’s down the hall if you wanna wash up or anything.  And Undyne’ll be on the couch, so this is probably the safest place in the Underground right now.”

Her brow furrowed.  Sure enough, there was no bathroom door inside the room—he must have used one of his “shortcuts” to move from his brother’s room to here.

“So, uh.  I’ll be in the shed—uh, guest room if you need me.”  He flashed one more tense grin before turning to leave.

“Wait.” She stepped towards him without thinking.  

He looked up, one brow ridge raised.  She found herself biting her lip, wondering if she dared ask what her soul wanted.  It was silly, really.  She’d been on her own for years, decades.

Maybe that was why she was so hesitant to lose this one taste of companionship.

“I would feel… safer, if you would stay too.”  Her face burned beneath her fur, but she projected her usual composure.

“...Welp. Can’t say no to that, huh?”

She was about to reassure him that he could say no—that she was asking as his friend, not as his queen—but the soft smile on his face told her he already knew.  

He briefly left to grab a few things, then returned with a few pillows and, for some reason, a dog bed.

“You are not going to sleep on that,” she said in disbelief.

He flopped the dog bed in the middle of the floor and started fluffing it.  “Why not?  Gotta throw a dog bed a bone, right?”

“Sans.”  

The outdoor lights dimmed, as if at her command.  Only the colored Gyftmas lights outside and one dim indoor bulb lit the room.

Her confidence waned with the light.  What had she expected him to do?  She’d asked him to stay.  Unless she wanted to…

Oh, to hell with it.  She was too old to be so shy about these things.

“If you are not opposed,” she swallowed, “we could… share this mattress.”

When he looked up, she couldn’t make out his eyelights at all.  Their glow returned slowly, like the rising of the sun from her memories.

“Heh… you sure?  You don’t even know if I snore.”

She laughed and sat on the bed, patting the space beside her.  “You do not know if I snore, either.”

“Fair enough, Tori.”

They took turns cleaning up in the bathroom—she was imposing on Sans enough without adding the smell of dirty fur to his bed.  Then she did her best to ignore the flutterings in her soul as he slipped off his hoodie and climbed up onto the mattress.  She insisted he stay under the sheets; her fur would keep her warm enough with just the light blanket on top.  

The sheets were a barrier in name only.  There was only so much space on the mattress, so no matter how he adjusted and apologized, she could still feel the curve of his spine against hers.

It felt amazing.  It felt terrifying.  It felt like a mistake.  It felt like the only thing she’d ever done right.

The one saving grace of the whole situation was that it didn’t stir memories of Asgore.  Her royal beds had been triple the size of Sans’s lumpy mattress. She and her ex-husband had rarely slept back to back, and if they had, the feeling would have much different.

“...Tori?” Sans’s voice was just above a whisper.  “You, uh, still awake?”

As if she could sleep while enduring the wonderful agony of friendly touch for the first time in a century.

“Yes,” she replied softly.  “Am I taking up too much space?”

“No, ‘course not. I was just, uh… geez.” He sounded embarrassed.

Risking their precarious balance, she rolled over to face him.  Or to face the back of his skull, at least.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Doin’ sans-sational.” He chuckled to himself.  “Sorry.  Never got to use that one with you before.”

She would have laughed, had she not worried about shaking the whole mattress.

“It was sans-tastic,” she joked back, and he laughed again.

Then abruptly, his laughter cut off.

“Thanks, Tori,” he said in a quiet but firm voice.

“What for?” She wished she could take his hand, see his face, learn what thoughts were passing through his skull.  Instead she gave him as much space as physically possible… which still was not much.

A long, silent moment passed.  Had he fallen asleep?

“I know it’s not how you wanted,” he finally said, “but I’m glad I got to meet you.  So.  Thanks.”

Warmth spread outward from her soul to fill her whole body.  Sans could probably feel it radiating from her.

“Thank you, Sans.  If I had to return, knowing no one…”

He rolled to face her.  His eyelights were mere inches from her pupils.

“You would’ve been fine.  All you had to do was tell a few of your amazing jokes, and the whole Underground would’ve been linin’ up to be your pals.”

She suppressed a laugh.  “I hardly think that would be appropriate, under the circumstances.”

“Eh.”  He shrugged.  “Plenty of monsters in town cope with jokes.  You’d just be relating to the common folk.”

She stared into his sockets a little too intently.  At this distance, it easily made her dizzy.

“Would you be included in that demographic?” she couldn’t help asking.

“When I first met you?  For sure.” His gaze darted away.  “But it’s crazy.  Between you and the kid… I’m startin’ to think there’s more to life than good food and bad laughs.”

“Really?”  She and the child had made such an impact on him?

“I know.  Don’t tell Papyrus.  He wouldn’t believe you, anyway.” He winked.

“My lips are sealed.” She smiled.

Silence hung between them.  It should have felt awkward, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away.  In the end it was Sans who yawned in her face and then hurriedly flipped back onto his other side.

She laughed, and clearly she was exhausted too, because she pressed a kiss to the back of his skull without thinking.

He froze.  She froze.  There was no way to play that off gracefully.  And there was no way she could fall asleep and pretend that it had not happened.

“Heh… those didn’t feel very sealed to me,” he finally rasped out.

It took her a moment to process what he meant.  Meanwhile her embarrassment only burned hotter.

“I am so sorry—”

“I’m not.” When he rolled back to face her, his face was bright blue.  “You’ll still be here when I wake up, right?”

His question was tinged with desperation.

“Of course,” she answered automatically, despite the many responsibilities that she would have to attend to in the morning.  She was the Queen once more.  If she had to, she could adjust the schedule of meetings and speeches to accommodate… this.

Whatever this was to be.

“Remind me in the morning,” he squeezed her hand, “that this is real.”

His hand quickly went limp.  She was worried for a moment, before she heard the faint snore escape his nasal cavity.

She gave him a fond smile, and allowed her own eyes to close.  She did not know if sleep would come or not.  She did not know what challenges the new day would bring, or what old challenges would continue to rear their heads.

But she did know that she was not alone.  For tonight, that was enough.

[90stvshowgoth]

— BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: dabi is on the run from the cops when you just happened to leave your window open.

tags: drunk sex, creampie, overstimulation, dubcon but not really,

wc: 6729

a/n: this is my first dabi fanfic so i’m worried i might’ve made him a bit too ooc but tbh i don’t care. soft dabi is what i want and soft dabi is what i will get. huge thanks by the way to @a-monsters-love who beta read this story and made it a lot less sucky!

my requests are open by the way!

What woke you wasn’t the explosions or the screams, but the sirens. The mechanical moans echoed through the streets of Musutafu, and that sound pulled you up out of bed, looking out your window in a bleary state of half-asleep fear.

‘What was going on?’ Goosebumps ran up your arms as you peered out your alleyway view window, overlooking the fire escape to the siren that had recently been installed in your neighborhood a few months back. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you tried to recall when the Pro Hero Association had brought it, and that same chill sank to your bones as you remembered just what they were for.

A villain had attacked the prefecture. A dangerous one.

You tried to calm your breathing, slowly walking backwards from the window to think rationally about the situation.

‘There’s no reason for somebody to attack a random apartment building, they’re off fighting heroes,’ The reasonable side of your brain said.

Despite that the siren was still wailing across town and it began to set you on edge. You certainly weren’t falling back asleep any time soon. If you couldn’t go back to bed you thought you’d might as well make some tea to calm your frigid nerves. You smiled when you saw your well-loved cardigan hanging next to the door and hugged it close, otherwise wearing nothing but your bra and leggings.

When you stepped into the main room you breathed in the warm scent of the candle that you’d accidentally left burning. Cursing yourself for your lack of fire safety, you shrugged and used the wick to light your path to the counter. After filling up the kettle under the sink you left it under the lit stove to boil, taking a moment to admire how the burner’s low flames were almost purely blue.

From here you could see the small television beside the couch and with a press of a button it came to life before you. The harsh glare made your eyes wince before they adjusted to the unfriendly light.

You were drawn to the red index near the corner that blinked the words ‘breaking news.’ This made your sleep-addled brain finally connect the dots between the sirens and the reporter. The screen cut to a newsman outside of what used to be a ten-story building when all that remained was a smoking husk. Hesitantly, you increased the volume to hear what happened.

“—before fleeing the scene. We have reports that say the hero fighting him was put into critical condition following the attack, and is currently being taken to the hospital. A video was taken by a nearby woman who sent it to the authorities. We believe this clip to be of the suspects,” the journalist paused, and a low-quality film began to play. Whoever was recording had badly shaking hands so It was difficult to make out. Your eyes widened at the sight of the building you walked by every day for work, the Shishido hero agency, razed by a torrent of blue wildfire.

Escaping from the crumbling building were four or so figures, too far away to see with any accuracy, but each had an unmistakeable silhouette. The League of Villains.

They were something of a modern socratic dialogue. Whenever someone brought up their name or the hero killer Stain’s it was always just to be a contrarian towards whoever was on the opposing side. Fanatical opinions would spark heated arguments online but you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Although, if you’d have to pick a side, you would choose the League’s. After Stain’s video had spread through Japan you dug deeper into the shady histories of some of the Commission’s most well-respected heroes. Whatever standard you held those pros to crumbled into dust under miles of ‘collateral damage,’ and omitted crimes that were swept under the rug by police. So when the faces of the league went up on the screen you couldn’t help but smile at their victory.

The whistle of the kettle pulled you from the television. You rushed to take it off the stove before it could get any louder, and routinely began to fix the tea just the way you like it. You hummed, smiling as the first sip of the warm brew spread down your body, fending off the cold.

You threw the remote onto the couch that sat across from the small kitchen. Moving back to your bedroom and getting cozy with the tea, you reveled in the way that the mug loosened the frozen joints of your fingers. But before you could relax and block out the sirens with some music, you noticed another chill rush through the small room. Groaning over-dramatically, you set the tea down to retrieve another blanket from your pile; but your eyes widened when you tracked down the source of the cold.

Your window was open.

That caught you off guard. You were absolutely sure you closed it before bed knowing how low the temperatures would drop, though with growing panic you noticed how you specifically don’t remember locking it. There’s only two ways it could’ve been open now. Either you simply misremembered earlier that night and forgot to close it...

Or someone else broke in.

The tea’s warmth was long forgotten as you reached shaking hands to close the window. But before you could slide the panel shut a calloused hand clawed itself around your mouth so you couldn’t scream.

Fear gripped your lungs as you struggled to breathe, thrashing desperately against the second arm your assailant had snaked over your waist to keep you still. Your leg banged painfully on the side of the windowsill as you struggled but it didn’t deter you from opening your mouth wide enough to bite down on the attacker’s hand.

“Fuck!” He cursed when your teeth drew blood around his thumb and practically threw you to the ground. As you were about to use your newfound freedom to scream for help, the man lunged towards you with one outstretched hand.

His flesh was suddenly engulfed in a hissing blue fire and you winced at the wave of heat that flared so close to your face. From here you could easily make out the assailant’s features from the illuminating glow of his flames.

He had deep scars circled under his eyes using what looked like piercings to hold the tattered skin together. His lips quirked after realizing he’d caught you for good, making his charred skin pull against the metal in his cheekbones. Panic hadn’t altered your memory, you knew exactly who was standing over you. Dabi of the League of Villains.

Before either of you could make another move someone banged on the front door. You turned to look towards the sound but the heat close to your reddening throat kept you from doing anything stupid.

“Ma’am this is the police, open the door.” You and Dabi stared at each other from the implications and you could already see a plan forming behind his eyes.

He leaned far too close, keeping his lit hand still hovering over your neck as he whispered his words into your ear, “Listen to me nice and close, doll,” you couldn’t bring yourself to breathe underneath the searing tension. “You’re gonna answer that door. You’re gonna smile and say that nobody’s home. And if you give away fuckin’ anything,” Dabi’s flames somehow stoked themselves, the heat so intense that your teardrops evaporated before they could leave your eyes, “I’ll set your hair on fire first. So you can feel your brain cooking.” He spoke with a dripping malice that made your blood run cold despite the flames creeping up his arm. You nodded, too terrified to form words as he pushed forward; telling you to get up.

The brief walk from your bedroom to the front door had never felt so long. Your legs felt like the static emanating from the television, all shaky and unstable. Once your hands curled around the handle you decided not to spare a glance back.

‘What do I do?’ You didn’t want to die, at least not by immolation of all things, so you’d have to play along. You cupped your feverish face in your hands and took an unsteady breath. ‘As long as I can fool these cops, I’ll be fine. I can do this,’ At least, you hoped.

Opening the door caused the hallway’s lights to flood through your darkened doorway. Once your eyes flinched with discomfort you saw the unmistakeable uniforms of two police officers, both middle-aged and looking much more disinterested than you would’ve thought.

“Is there a problem?” You could lie smoothly enough but your voice was still feeble from Dabi’s strain on your neck.

The one who had called out earlier answered your question, “A member of the League of Villains was seen climbing in through a window to this apartment building, but the witness didn’t remember exactly which floor or room. Is anyone else with you?”

You feigned confusion, going so far with the act as to tilt your head slightly to the side. “No, I’m sure I’m alone, sir.”

At that moment a painfully loud squeak echoed from your bedroom and your eyes widened at the audible gap in your story. There was a loose floorboard right beside your bookshelf that creaked under even the slightest weight. You’ve learned to avoid it over time but Dabi had no idea.

That bored expression on the cop’s face shifted and you scrambled to come up with a explanation. “I thought you said you lived alone?”

An idea popped straight from your brain to your mouth, “My cat! His name is—“ you thought of the old, lovable house-cat your family had kept while growing up, “Byron. He like to get into my plants.”

“...Alright then, Ma’am, just keep yourself safe.” It seemed to just barely convince them.

You almost couldn’t fight back the elation as you waved off the oblivious pair, heeding their words by locking the door behind them in a rush. Pressing your back against the wood, you tried to settle the adrenaline pounding through your chest. Unfortunately as soon as you started to calm down, Dabi strode from the bedroom with a curious look in his eyes.

“Not bad, lady. Didn’t think you’d give it your all like that,” he must’ve kicked himself for making that noise and thought you would’ve used it as a way to give him up, “especially for a villain like me.”

The tension in the air had noticeably lessened, and you started to think you had a good shot at surviving the night. “I mean, I didn’t want them to find you either.”

Dabi paced around the living room, turning on one of your floor lights in his path towards the couch, “And why’s that?” He asked, flopping unceremoniously onto the secondhand loveseat.

Sure, you were still half pissed at the guy for breaking into your apartment and threatening to kill you, but it was clear that everything he did wasn’t personal. He just needed to escape from the police, but since they were gone what would happen now?

“Because...” you wanted to find the right words to convince him, “because I hate heroes too.”

Under the dim glow of the lamp you caught a glimpse of a half-handsome smile from that answer. Now that there was none of the malice from before you could appreciate just what he looked like under the warm lighting. Especially his eyes, which turned out to be a truly stunning shade of blue.

He kicked his feet onto your coffee table and patted the seat next to him. You’d have to deal with whatever dirt or soot he’d tracked inside tomorrow morning, but for now you found yourself accepting his invitation.

“Lucky me, huh?” Dabi asked rhetorically, and you found yourself almost smiling back at him. The couch was still cold underneath you but you painfully realized that Dabi was emanating heat like a goddamn generator.

‘It must’ve been from his quirk.’ you thought bitterly, shivering despite yourself.

Dabi drew a pack of Newports from his coat pocket and slid a cigarette out with his teeth. Instead of using a lighter a thin blue flame ignited on his index finger. He held it to the tip and drew in a deep lungful of smoke.

“So, what’s your deal, anyways? You got a thing for villains or something?” He wondered out-loud, teasing another blush onto your face as you shook your head.

“No, I just— I mean not like that,” From the look on his grafted face you could tell he wasn’t convinced. “The Hero Commission is corrupt, I agree with the league on that at least. Stain’s video kinda affected me, you know?”

Another small grin graced his lips and a small part of you decided that you wanted to see that expression more often, “What’s your name, doll?”

The question put you at ease; When he repeated it back, rolling the syllables over his tongue, you couldn’t wait to hear him say it again. Wordlessly, he extended his hand towards you, offering the lit cigarette between his fingers. When you took it all you could focus on was how warm his hands felt against yours for those brief seconds.

Wisps of smoke danced in the air as you inhaled, coughing a bit after the dry tang started to sting the back of your mouth. He smirked at your reaction before taking the cheap cigar from your fingertips.

Dabi saw the remote you left laying on the couch and mindlessly turned on the TV across from you. The news station was once again playing, this time an interview with one of the heroes who fought at the scene. This hero in particular was an older man with a receding hairline and an honestly ridiculous outfit that looked somewhere between a scuba diver and a 70s golden-age comic book character.

Beside you, Dabi groaned at the sight of him, “This fuckin’ guy...”

“Were you the one that fought him?” He nodded without breaking his attention from the screen.

“His quirk was such a pain to deal with. He controlled all the oxygen in the room— made it hard to set his ass on fire.”

There were a surprising lack of injuries on Dabi as far as you could see, aside from a few scrapes alongside the bruised scars that crawled below his loose shirt. You couldn’t help but wonder how far down they went, but quickly turned your attention back to the screen to ignore those ideas. The hero he fought looked far worse for wear, skin marred with fresh burns that singed holes into the costume; His legs shaking similarly to how yours were just fifteen minutes ago. Dabi seemed to have that effect on people.

Before you could ask him how he’d won his fight he was off the couch and walking towards the kitchen. He casually searched through your apartment with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

You sighed, a bit annoyed at how he helped himself to your fridge, “Dabi, if you’d tell me what you’re looking for I could show you.”

“Nah, already found what I wanted.” He dug open one of the drawers and smirked as he pulled a chill bottle of wine from the fridge.

Dabi tracked down two nearby glasses and a corkscrew before returning to your side and started to twist the metal tip into the pliant seal. It pulled loose with a soft pop and he filled each of your cups with the cherry wine you had been saving for a special occasion.

As you raised the rim to your lips and breathed in the fermented smell you paused. Were you really about to drink wine with a villain? A wanted criminal who broke into your apartment? His hand had been around your throat as he whispered about how he would burn you alive less than half an hour ago. There had to be something wrong with you to even consider it. Beside you he nearly emptied half the glass in his first sip before going back to enjoying his cigarette and you found your resolve crumbling at his lazy half-smile. Making possibly one of the dumbest mistakes of your life, you followed his lead and took a long swig from the bittersweet drink, intent on letting the alcohol relax your nerves.

The effects were slow to come, it was only wine after all, but as the night carried on and the two of you kept drinking you started to notice the effects taking hold. At the very least, conversation between you flowed easily, trading questions about each other that never grew too inquisitive. He didn’t try to pry too deeply, he didn’t even ask for your last name, and you were sure to never bring up his scars. You talked for what must’ve been hours, and as the bottle emptied, the space between the two of you grew smaller.

Dabi could handle his alcohol, but you couldn’t, clearly. To be fair, he was tipsy, but the way you unashamedly leaned your head on his shoulder when you grew tired was anything but sober.

“So, doll, got a boyfriend or something?” He asked, testing the waters. You leaned up and sighed at the question.

“No, nothin’ like that... I haven’t had the time.” You tipped your glass back but the wine never reached your lips. You groaned at the sight of the empty cup and leaned up to grab the bottle from the table. Unfortunately, Dabi’s hand held onto yours before you could reach the vice; You felt him pull you back towards the couch by your wrist until you lost your balance, falling back against his shoulder. If he minded he didn’t show it as his arm rested around your hip.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” The condescending tone in his voice was annoying but it wasn’t enough to make you move from his comfortable grasp.

You scoffed, messing with your hair to avoid looking at his face, “God, who are you, my dad?”

A shit-eating grin stretched across his face, “Oh, so you’re into that Daddy shit, huh?”

The comment took you so off-guard that you broke into a fit of giggles that did nothing to temper the blush returning to your face. Dabi loved how much of an effect he had on you; the simplest words turning you into a flustered mess.

“Nah, not my thing-“ ‘Unless you’re into it,’ You barely kept yourself from saying that second part out loud. From this angle Dabi had the perfect view of your tits pressing against his chest and he stared shamelessly. You barely noticed, too focused on how warm he was while holding you close to his side. It almost looked like something a boyfriend would do, but you knew better.

It was a strange feeling, to be so under Dabi’s influence. Every lingering touch, every heated stare... It was driving you crazy. And he knew it. He was toying with you and you couldn’t believe how much you loved it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a chill running down your spine, only realizing that you were so caught up in your time spent with Dabi that you forgot to close the very window he had snuck through. As the night carried on it somehow got colder and you cursed the thin cardigan you found yourself wearing that did nothing to shield away the biting air.

“You cold, doll?” Dabi was surprisingly perceptive, noticing the trail of goosebumps that ran down your arms. Although, perhaps it was the sensation of his hand trailing over your skin that caused it rather than the wind.

Nodding hesitantly, he wasted no time in wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You couldn’t have held back the relieved sigh that left your lips if you tried. Because when Dabi wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you to his chest, it felt like heaven to your frigid bones.

As you curled into the embrace he couldn’t ignore how you felt on top of him. The pressure of your ass sitting on his dick drove him crazy, and it took damn near everything in him to not push you down face first and take you then and there.

“Dabi, you feel amazing,” His eyes widened, your slurred words almost making him lightheaded, “so warm...” You trailed your hands up and threaded them through his coarse dark hair. The faintest of groans left his lips as you got comfortable and accidentally dragged yourself down the front of his jeans.

All at once he took hold of the skin of your thighs, stopping you from moving and damn near shaking with effort to keep still. “Doll... cause’ you’re drunk, I’ll ask you this one time—“

“—Please, Dabi,” You didn’t budge under his bruising grasp or struggle like before, instead holding eye-contact, resolve heavy in your voice, “I want this- want you so bad,” It was enough for him, and he didn’t hold back.

He was ravenous when he finally pressed his lips to yours, leaving you tongue-tied and moaning into his mouth. The alcohol only added fuel to your desire, easing the tension on your clit by grinding against him. He broke the kiss in a choked gasp, his hands cupping you around your ass and fondling you through the thin material. When he stood up from the couch gravity somehow felt heavier, but it must’ve been from the wine. His hands still held you by your thighs and while he backed the both of you towards the bedroom his lips never left yours, even when he went to rip your cardigan off your shoulders, leaving it behind along with his coat, you in only your bra and leggings.

The loud bang from Dabi kicking the door open startling a squeak out of you and he chuckled into the kiss, running a stapled hand through your bedhead and pulling hard enough to make you keen into his touch. Rather unceremoniously he threw you onto the bed, briefly disorientating before you could make out Dabi’s alluring figure ridding himself of his clothes. Once he pulled over his shirt you saw his maimed chest covered in taught muscles and scars. As he broke your gaze to turn his attention to his jeans, fumbling with the cheap zipper, you couldn’t help from crawling towards him slowly on your knees before whispering, “No—“ He looked up from his trance, wondering if you’d changed your mind before you quickly perished the thought by pulling him towards you by the loops on his jeans. He raised an eyebrow at your show but didn’t make a move to interrupt the adorable way you took care of him.

So you began, looking into his eyes as you kissed down his deformed chest. It seemed a miracle he was even standing before you, with haphazard staples barely holding him together. You couldn’t resist giving the seams of his wounds special attention, pressing light kisses to the metal as you made your way down.

You unhooked his jeans easily, eagerly reaching to feel him through his boxers. His nails dug into your scalp when you finally eased his shorts off, breaking your eyes away to look between his legs and—

You couldn’t’ve stopped the needy moan from your lips if you tried, too attracted and nervous about the shiny bridges of metal through his dick. “Fuck, Dabi...” he had the most cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face as he watched you salivate over him.

“What’s wrong, baby? Never had a guy with piercings before?” You didn’t even hear him, instead responding with a dazed shake of your head; far too tipsy on the sight of him towering over you, reddened head leaking against his stomach.

He pretended to come to a decision, “Guess I’ll have to take my time with you before fucking that cute pussy,” his words sent heat straight to your core, slick pooling in your ruined panties, “but then why am I the only one naked? You’re gonna make me embarrassed you know.” The amused look on his face put you at ease and you laughed a bit at the idea.

“You? You’re the most shameless person I’ve ever met.” The smile he brought out was enough to ease the nerves that came with being so vulnerable to a man like Dabi.

The foe-offended look on his face wasn’t any less ironic, “You wound me, doll,” when his attention fell back to your clothes he didn’t hesitate to snake his hand below your arched back and unclasp your bra. Before you could think of covering yourself he’d already raised your arms up and thrown the lace material into some corner of your room.

He was on you in an instant, biting and sucking on the plush skin of your tits with abandon, enjoying every small tremor it brought from your shaking lips. To him your body was a blank canvas just begging for him to bruise, and he would take his sweet time carving teeth marks into your chest.

But while he had his fun you had yours, running your hand along his collarbones and carefully worrying the stapled hem of skin. You weren’t sure how the stitches would hold up otherwise. But before you could worry about it too much you felt him pull away, a deep hickey left in his wake.

“You don’t have to be gentle with them,” he looked up at you with an unexpected sincerity.

With that there was nothing to hold you back from dragging your nails down his chest, the villain groaning as you felt his solid stomach beneath you. From a distance he looked like a patched rag-doll that was barely holding itself together but up close the wiry muscles that clung to his calloused body couldn’t be ignored. Dabi practically hissed when he felt your soft fingers wrap around his cock, only spurring you on further. The piercings weren’t as rigid as they appeared but they were scalding to the touch.

His breathing stuttered around you as you picked up your pace, the heat of his breath pulsing on your cheek as you took in every sinful expression on his face. He cried out, squeezing his eyes shut at the pleasure. You stared unabashedly, taking note of how peaceful he looked above you. Like for the first time that night his body wasn’t wrought with chronic pain.

When you pulled your hand away his eyes shot open. “I didn’t tell you to fuckin’ stop.” He sounded pissed but before you could lose confidence you shifted your weight to the side, locking your arms together behind his to roll him over, leaving you on top.

“I wanna make you feel good, Dabi,” Thankfully he seemed to be curious as to what you had planned, letting you stay on top for now. You crawled down his body until you reached his painful hard-on. Wrapping your hand back around him you gave him the most doe eyed gaze you could manage before taking him into your mouth.

“God, that’s fuckin’ good,” He cradled your head and set his own pace, not too rough but far from gentle as you fought the urge to cough. The metal of his piercings were hot against your tongue, the heat unlike any other experience you’ve had before. Wrapping your tongue around him you intentionally hummed, the keening moan it brought from him more than worth the burn. Tears crowded near your eyelashes as he chased his own pleasure, breaking his gaze to crane his head back in ecstasy. His neck bobbed with the effort and the sight made you almost proud.

It was over far too soon and once he pulled away you almost missed the weight of him in your mouth. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you, hear me?” His words made you all too aware of how badly you needed him, but he continued to run his mouth as he pushed you up the sheets and took his place back on top of you, “Gonna fill you so good, babydoll,” He caged you beneath him and you whined at the feeling of his slick cock heavy against your thighs.

His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, which do you want?” His blue eyes looked black in the feint light, staring at you with such an amused intensity that you didn’t even register what he said.

“What?”

Dabi tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning closer and whispering, “My mouth? Or my fingers?”

You normally wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye after he said that but liquid courage still ran through your veins and you leaned forward until you could nestle into the crook of his neck.

“Your fingers, Dabi,” You groaned as you felt his grip around your jawline move until his left hand curled around your neck and his right tore off your leggings before slipping below the waistband of your underwear. As soon as he touched you his eyes widened, a feral glint in his eyes.

“Fuck— Doll, you’re so fucking wet,” He squeezed your neck experimentally and the rush of endorphins sent to your head felt divine. It wasn’t to be outdone when you felt him circle your clit with his thumb, rushing into such a fast pace from the get-go. The onslaught of pleasure made a scratchy cry slip from under the grip of his hand. Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you were almost thankful for the immovable grip around your neck. It served almost like an anchor to ground you underneath him.

He pulled a startled squeak from your throat when his two fingers pushed their way inside. It barely hurt, but the maddening feeling of his long fingers curling and stretching your walls was one you wouldn’t forget. Dabi shushed your eager cries with an endless stream of filth whispered into your ear, “Can’t wait to fuck my cum into you, dollface. You want that? You gonna be my good fucking slut?” He was downright mean as he took his time stringing you like a bow. “You wanna feel me drip out of you like a street whore?”

“Yes, Dabi, I’ll be good, I promise just please—” You were too far gone at that point, grabbing fist fulls of dark hair to yank him to your mouth, the kiss muffling his groan from you pulling on your hair. His index finger curled so slightly into you, the pace on your clit turning soft once he added his third finger. The sound he brought out of you was somewhere between a dying choke and euphoric moan, each sensation coaxing you into his touch. Feeling him move so easily within you was almost enough to bring you over, your whimpers increasing against his lips, only for all of it to be taken away.

Dabi left you grasping around nothing when he took his hands away, no doubt enjoying the desperate way you tried to rock yourself back onto him. Only when you did, you were met with something far bigger than his fingers.

“Come on...” When he called you by your name it brought you back to earth for a minute, “I want you to beg for me,” looking to see his heavy length pressed against you as he rubbed the glistening tip onto your clit. “You’re gonna beg for a villain to fuck you,” The promise of pleasure was so enticing that it was worth lying to the cops, worth risking your safety, and enough to toss your pride out the open window.

Grabbing him by his hair, you forced him to look at you. “Dabi, please, I need you... Need you in me ‘til you cum,” desperation and lust coated every sinful word you said, but Dabi wasn’t satisfied. “I wanna be good for you, Dabi, want you to fuck me, fill me up, ple-“ your words were cut off by the intense stretch of your walls trying to take him in. You’d never screamed someone’s name so loudly before in your life.

“Oh, fuck-! Shit... your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight,” As each inch sunk deeper you couldn’t speak or even breathe.

He wasn’t wasting any time, mercifully toying with your clit as he filled you. The air felt thin in your bedroom, like you were hundreds of feet from the ground, drawing short, shallow gasps beneath him.

“Da-bi!” His hips ground slowly against yours and you were suddenly thankful for his prepping, unable to come to grips with just how full you felt.

An overwhelmed laugh fell from his burnt lips as he slowly pulled himself from your dripping sex, “What’sa matter, babe? Can’t take it?”

The pout on your face only made him grin, the childish indignity adorable to him. But his teasing was starting to push you to your limits. He might’ve been a powerful villain and you a civilian, but it didn’t mean he had to treat you like glass. Hooking your legs around his waist you forced him forward. Dabi’s eyes shot open and both of you choked at the sharp friction. Any trace of playfulness died then and there, his knuckles turning white from the grip on your hips.

He kept your legs tight around him as he surged forward, your mouth caught open in a daze. You weren’t sure what his piercings would’ve felt like inside of you but god, was it good. The metal spokes impressed into your body with fervor, constantly dragging against your sensitive walls.

Tomorrow you might say that the wine was what drove you so crazy for him, but you knew you’d be lying to yourself. He was by far the most intoxicating libation you’d ever tried. The sound of skin against skin was almost deafening, only broken by the dulcet groans from the man above you and the siren that still echoed outside your widow like white noise. In the back of your mind you wondered if they were still searching for him.

Dabi leaned his head into the crook of your neck, revisiting the marks he’d already made. His teeth bit down your chest all the while abusing your aching clit. It was all too much. You couldn’t help clawing at his broad shoulders, leaving inflamed tracks in your wake. When your nails made contact with the scorched seam on his back Dabi moaned, the loud whine in his voice got you to realize something crucial. The motherfucker got off on pain.

His touch turned ravenous after that, pulling you tight against him until there wasn’t any space between your bodies. The rough texture of his skin-graphs and the blistering heat of their staples pushing against your breasts just made his brutal pace feel more intense.

Your voice was higher pitched than you’d ever thought you could manage, squeaking out small moans with every quick pulse of his hips. Your ankles were sore and locked together— he couldn’t have pulled out if he tried. The legs that were still wrapped around him twitched involuntarily as you felt the string inside your core about to snap.

“Fa.. fuck, Da—bi I’m—“ you stuttered against him, crying into his shoulder when you felt his pelvis grinding so perfectly onto your clit while he railed you, screaming his name one more time as he pulled you overboard, being sure to scratch at his back as you thrashed futilely against him.

All at once his teeth were buried into your throat, digging in so hard that you mistook his spit for blood; his bite only sharpening the orgasm that sent waves of heat coursing through you. Against your dented skin he groaned and cursed, his voice coarse but dripping with pleasure as he cursed expletives onto your shining skin. The wetness of your climax dripped down your legs, making him somehow push faster against you, but despite the blinding orgasm he’d thrown you into he couldn’t stop until he’d finished and the overstimulation burned white hot through your entire body. Just as the drive of his cock bordered on painful, Dabi shoved you down onto him, stilling above you and choking on a groan.

Twitching inside your cashmere walls you felt the warm rush of his cum paint your insides as his hips jerked into yours. His heart beat wildly against his chest— you could feel it over yours, his eyes still glazed with pleasure. Dabi was sure to pull out slowly, through the dim glow of your room he could see his cum seep out of your glistening pussy, and he couldn’t help but push his fingers inside you one last time. He might’ve liked pain, but he was an asshole who enjoyed the uncomfortable keen it brought from your trembling lips.

Thin moonlight shone through your window, illuminating the maze of blemishes that razed against his alabaster skin. It might’ve been because of the bleary tears that still half-clung to your eyelashes, but above you, with a winded smile on his torn-up face, he looked half a corpse and half a god.

“Still with me, baby?” He noticed your staring, teasing you by waving his hand in front of your face.

You felt almost high, all drowsy symptoms included, only responding to his question with a feint grin. The wine and the rough sex both made you exhausted in more ways than one, but before you could complain Dabi had shifted his weight off the bed.

“Nooo...” Admittedly you felt a little childish but you couldn’t help but pout as he grabbed his briefs and went to leave your bedroom.

Through the open doorway he’d said, “Just getting a towel, stay put.”

His absence gave you a second to think, staring up at the ceiling with a thousand opposing thoughts bidding for your attention. You just slept with a villain— a murderer. You might side with what he stands for but Dabi was still dangerous. He could’ve killed you tonight, after all. And yet, the only thing you could wonder was what was taking him so long.

Soon he returned wearing his boxers, carrying a heavy towel that he ran under the sink with warm water and took to cleaning the dribbling mess between your thighs. You cooed at his touch, the afterglow of your orgasm cleaned away until Dabi read the alarm clock on your bedside table. 4am.

“You know I can’t stay, right?” He asked bluntly, and you nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show too badly on your face.

“Villain stuff, huh?” You shrugged, curling up into your pillow. Dabi had to continue hunting down the rest of his shed clothes while he mumbled some kind of agreement.

He flashed you a grin while he zipped up his tattered jeans, “Doesn’t mean I won’t break in some other time, doll.” Relief spread through your fingertips once he said that, the weight disappearing from your shoulders.

Your content smile followed him as he threw that thick coat around his shoulders, walking up to your bedside and leaning low. You grinned, leaning forward and trying to catch him for one more kiss, only to be interrupted by the sound of something below you.

Looking down, you saw Dabi slapping a handful of crumpled bills on your end-table, that smug grin from earlier evident on his face. Without bidding you some kind of goodbye kiss he made his way to the open window, sparing you a glance before saying, “Buy some plan B, alright?”

You hadn’t even thought of it, grinning and waving him off as he swung himself onto the fire escape. The sounds of metal clanging against his boots faded away into the distant echoes of the city, and you brought your hand to your throat. Softly you traced the deep blemish his teeth had left behind, your smile turning giddy as you thought about his promise of another visit, but unfortunately the wine was still simmering through you and without Dabi to keep you awake your eyelids started to feel heavy.

Under your plush covers, you continued to cup your hand over the mark he left as you faded off into sleep, the siren that still echoed through the streets acting almost like a lullaby.

[babylooneytoonz]

The Vessel [Pt. 15- Final Chapter]

Geralt of Rivia x fem! reader

A/N- This is officially the end of my book, and I want to thank you all for sparing the time to read it. Thank you! 🤍

Warnings: fluff and soft Geralt

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost or claim my work as yours.

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

Geralt grumbled under his breath, yet his movements were quiet; stealthy like a cat as he didn't want to wake you. You were almost due to give birth, and Geralt didn't want to disturb your sleep, because you hardly got any. Although it was strangely pleasing to him to watch you try to pacify your baby, sometimes stroking your bump, or sometimes singing to it, and he didn't want to admit he secretly loved it, he was happy the baby was calm today, and you were peacefully asleep.

He entered your shared bedroom back in your home in Redania where he now mostly spent his time, when he was not out hunting monsters, that was. His armour was soiled with gore, fragments of the kikimora's intestines, and he wanted nothing more than to drown himself into a bath, and relax but he didn't want to wake you up.

The size of the body the man had, silence was the least dominant trait that he had. As he took off his armour, the armour fell from his hand, crashing against the floor with the clatter that woke you up instantly.

"Fuck, who's there?" You almost sat up in bed, grabbing a nearby empty pitcher of water in your grip, ready to throw it at whoever it was, your mind slightly disoriented as you had been asleep.

"It's just me," Geralt grumbled, frowning at how clumsy he was, immediately bending and picking up his armour. Finally, your eyes adjusted to the lighting of the room, and when you saw him, you slowly slid out of the bed and waddled towards him.

"What have you done to yourself, my love? You look like a piss pot."

"Hm, blame the kikimora," Geralt grumbled, under his breath, and you ended up chuckling as he tried to shoo you back into bed, waving his hands.

"Didn't mean to wake you, go to bed, [Y/N]."

"It's okay, Geralt. Let me draw your bath," You motioned to him to take off his dirty clothes while you decided to warm some water so he could take a bath.

Geralt didn't let you carry the pails of water yourself, of course and neither could you. In fact, it was difficult for you to climb the stairs owing to the fact that your bump was blocking your view of your feet.

You watched as he slid into the warm water, his body immediately relaxing as the soothing touch of the heat hit his sore body.

"I can't wait to give birth, Geralt," you mumbled as you sat against the edge of the bed, rubbing a paste that you had created over your swollen ankles, as much as you could bend, while Geralt relaxed in the bathtub, his eyes flicking occasionally towards you and a small smile graced his lips at the sight of you.

When Geralt didn't reply, you lifted your gaze, fixing it on him, noticing how he was staring at you. His lips were curved— so minutely, that only you and Jaskier could understand now, little details about him, like when he was amused, or in a jestful mood. You stood up, letting the vessel down on the bed, and walked up to fix yourself behind your Witcher's back, your hands coming to rest against the base of his neck as you began scrubbing him. Geralt of Rivia's company had taught to treat silence as bliss.

"What was that?" You frowned as you looked up at the wooden door of your bedroom. You had been sitting against the headboard of your bed, while Geralt was laying on your lap, almost having dozed off; your fingers gently stroking through his locks, lulling him into an even deeper sleep.

The words had barely escaped your lips, and Geralt was up, rigid and alert, like a wolf. He jumped, in one movement, standing by your bed, his hand drawn towards you, his palm raised, motioning you to stay still as he grabbed his sword with the other hand.

"Jaskier? Is that you?" Geralt snarled, but the pounding outside your door didn't stop, and instead it worsened, the loud noise now giving you a headache, forcing you to press your hands against your ears.

Just as Geralt darted towards the door, ready to pull it open and see for himself as to exactly who this intruder was when suddenly, the door flung open, and a Cintran guard tossed Jaskier in, who fell on his knees where Geralt was.

"Geralt! Say something, I am being tossed about like a worthless sack of grain!" Jaskier dramatized, and you hurriedly slid against the edge of the bed while Geralt drew his sword towards the Cintran guard.

The guard turned, regarding you through the armoured helmet that covered his face partially, and then nodded to himself before his voice rang out, "My Queen, the Princess is here, as expected."

"Touch her, I'll break your fucking bones," Geralt growled, his grip on his sword tightening when suddenly, "Lower your weapons! I'm here to talk," a familiar voice commanded, and you knew who it was. You pressed your lips together in a slight anger, both your hands coming to rest protectively against your swollen belly.

Calanthe entered, her eyes falling first thing on the Witcher and her frown widened, before she turned towards you, "Knew I'd find you here."

You bit your lip, eyeing her carefully, when Geralt began speaking, and her head shot towards him.

"If you're here to drag her to that King who fucked his own sister, then it's too late."

You nodded at Geralt's words, immediately rushing to Geralt's side, stepping behind him, grabbing on to his hand that wasn't holding the sword, your fingers entwining with his, "Yes, mother. My baby will not be a bastard anymore. We're married now."

"I'm not here to ask you to marry Foltest, I'm here to—" she stopped talking, throwing out her hands towards you, trying to nudge you to go to her but you stayed by Geralt's side, "I'm here to take you home. Your Kingdom needs you. I need you. If the Witcher is who you desire then, I give my blessings."

"What?" You and Jaskier said almost together, and you almost choked on a gasp.

"All my life, I thought you were dead and then I found you only to lose you again. Come home, I can't rule a Kingdom anymore, I need you to sit on that throne."

The shock of it all was hard to process. You gasped, tightening your grip on Geralt's hand and he turned towards you with a frown, "You okay?"

"A throne? This is too much."

"You were born for this, [Y/N]." Calanthe continued.

Suddenly, your mind began zoning out the voices, and the voices of Geralt, Calanthe and Jaskier were just background noises to you. You felt something wet slide down the inside of your legs, and your eyes widened. Your breathing laboured suddenly as a sudden cramp tore through your stomach, all too suddenly, and you whelp escaped your lips, causing Geralt to turn towards you.

"I don't think.. I can think of any throne right now.. mother.. I think the baby is coming."

That was, perhaps, the fastest journey Geralt had made, to the village to get the midwife, while Calanthe stayed with you.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Calanthe wiped her sweaty brow with the back of her hand and you growled at her, "Then what exactly am I doing mother? You are not helping!! I would rather have you switch places with Jask'."

"Leave me out of this. I have a history of fainting at the sight of a lot of blood," Jaskier called out from outside the room, and you groaned in pain, and part annoyance, now aware that he was lurking right outside your door.

You screamed as another contraction tore through your body, the midwife having finally arrived as Calanthe switched positions with her and you felt her squat down by your lower region. You tried breathing, preparing yourself for another crippling contraction, spreading your legs and arching your back, as Calanthe tried to soothe you.

"Geralt, I fucking hate you for doing this to me! I hope you hear me!" You screamed in pain, even though you knew you would regret this later when you would have your baby pressed to your chest.

The sun set, and the sun rose again the next day; but your screaming didn't die. It was only when the sun was right above your home did the first cries of your girl finally fill your shack. Tears of joy flew freely through your eyes, and your mother's as she pressed the babe to her chest, looking down at her slightly golden eyes in awe.

"She's got Geralt's eyes," she whispered to you, as you let out a sob, and weakly threw out your hands so you would hold her in your arms. She was so tiny, and so perfect, her eyes like Geralt, a tuft of golden white locks already on top of her otherwise bald head.

"Mother, can you take her? I feel.. like all my energy is gone."

"Lay down and close your eyes, child. You've birthed a baby, and that isn't easy as the menfolk think it is. I have her," she took her from your arms, and you smiled weakly at the sight before you let your eyes shut.

You were in a dreamless slumber, your slumber so deep that even Jaskier playing the lute against your ears would not have been enough to wake you up.

After a long time, you stirred in your sleep, your eyes slowly fluttering open.

The sight in front of you, as you propped yourself up against your elbows, made your heart swell with love. Geralt sat on a chair, his eyes pressed shut, his chest rising up and down the only movement that you could see, holding your daughter close to his chest. The little babe looked tiny as compared to the Witcher's bulky frame, yet this was the softest sight you had ever seen. You slid to the edge of the bed, letting the bare pads of your feet brush against the cold floorboards as you pushed your still sore body up. Just then, Jaskier entered the room, his eyes lighting up as he saw you.

You smiled when you saw that he was holding the blanket that you had knitted for the baby when you had found out of the pregnancy.

"Here," he whispered in a low voice so he didn't wake the father and the daughter as he threw out his hand towards you. You only shook your head and pointed towards Geralt.

"Scared to put it on him?" You joked, your voice a whisper too.

"For the first time, I don't want to ruin the moment," he smiled, as he pulled you into a side hug and you almost sniffled dramatically, pouting, "Well, Jaskier. Aren't you in love?"

"Princess, I'm not ashamed to say I'm in love with her. She is the best thing that's happened to us."

"Oh, Jaskier—" You blurted out, a little too loud, and the Witcher grumbled slightly, stirring from his sleep as he fluttered his eyes open; the first thing his eyes falling on being the baby in his arms, and then up at you.

Geralt smiled and nodded, as you walked up to him, lowering yourself on his thigh, carefully placing your palm on top of her head.

"She's perfect, my love," Geralt whispered, and you nodded, wrapping your arm around his neck, letting your head rest against his.

It was the calm before the storm.

You stood by the massive window of your chambers, staring at the city ahead of you— Cintra.

Your Kingdom, your home, which you now ruled, with your Witcher by your side.

"What are you thinking, love?"

The familiar rasp of a voice made you turn towards him, a faint smile breaking out against your lips. Geralt was propped on his elbow, his naked chest glistening as a ray of sunshine fell directly on him, his lower body wrapped in the silkiest of the blankets.

"I have an ill feeling, Geralt."

"Come to bed, love. Let me make you feel better," Geralt smirked, as he patted on the empty side of your bed but before you could, a loud babble of a baby filled the room.

Both you and Geralt turned towards the door, watching your one year old taking baby steps towards the two of you.

"How the hell?" Geralt muttered, when Jaskier darted into the room; his hair unkempt, paint caked on his cheeks and his shirt. He grabbed Fiona in his arms, and swung her up and the little girl cackled in glee, making you grin.

"Sorry, I was just teaching her how to paint. She ran off with my brushes," he sheepishly grinned before his eyebrow shot up and he eyed Geralt, "Don't let my interference stop whatever the two of you were planning to do. Perhaps, planning a sibling for her."

Geralt grunted under his breath, while you ended up snorting to his comment, shaking your head, "That's not happening, Jaskier. I'm done with mages and their spells. Now run along, we've got things to do."

The Vessel Taglist:

@kawennote09 @viking-raider @raspberrydreamclouds @pterodactylterrace @singeramg @historianwithaheart @miss-emilia-cavill @ayamenimthiriel @crazynocturnalkiki @xxxkatxo @coffeebreathy @fanaticnae @kmuir1 @little-jana @pineapplemama @auds24 @sassy-pelican @bitchynicole @cavillsim @ragamuffin285 @hista-girl @oliviali0930 @introvertedmouse @madbaddic7ed @libbymouse @nerra75 @maxineswritingcenter @superawesomegeek @waifu4lifeu @funalpaca @petitefirecracker10 @marantha @vikingsbifrost @babypink224221 @jessyballet @strrynigxts @rn7rocks @theroyalbrownbarbie @amirra88 @naughty-koala07 @xuxszx @iminlovewithenchilidadas

[waitimcomingtoo]

Touch - p.p

chapter two: the dance

synopsis: you love him, but you can never touch him

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

The day after the confession in the kitchen, the Avengers were sent on an emergency to mission in Alaska. You’d normally sit next to Peter on the jet, but you decided to give him his distance. There was an icy tension between the two of you ever since you spoke of the dance you’d been doing, something you wished would remain unspoken.

You looked at Peter and let out a sigh before getting off the jet and taking your place next to Steve. Tony stood in front of the team and rubbed his hands.

“Banner and Romanoff, stay on the main floor and contain the damage. Rogers, I want you on the west side. Try to minimize the amount of flying monkeys that get in. Bert and Ernie, you two go to the basement and try to turn off the power.”

You felt your heart sink as you and Peter were assigned to stay together. You looked at him and gave him a tight smile, but the eyes on his mask told you he was looking away.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, fighting the urge to cry. Knowing that he felt the same was much worse than wondering if he reciprocated your feelings. Now that you knew, all you felt was pain.

You and Peter headed towards the basement in silence and you hoped it would stay that way. Peter’s head was going a million miles an hour, the mission long gone from his mind.

“Are we gonna talk about what happened between us?” He blurted, making your chest tighten.

“Nothing happened between us.” You said simply, hoping he would take the hint to drop it.

“I know.” He stopped walking. “That’s the problem.”

You stopped too, looking around before walking up to Peter.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You mumbled. “We gotta focus on the mission, okay?”

“I can’t focus on anything anymore.” Peter laughed sadly. “Only you.”

“Peter.” You whimpered as he stepped closer to you. He raised a hand and brushed it against your cheek, and you let it linger. You leaned into his touch and looked in his eyes before yours widened in fear.

“Behind you.”

As soon as Peter turned around, he got punched in the face. You immediately jumped to his defense and fought off the intruder, but three more piled in. You and Peter fought back to back, punching and kicking at whoever came near you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a man run out of the room with a ring of keys and let out a sigh. Peter clocked it too and looked at you.

“He had the keys to turn the power off.” He called out. “He can’t get away.”

“I’ll go get him.” You called back before running out of the room. You chased the man down and kicked him in the face, catching the keys when the flew out of his hands. He tried to get up so you put a hand on his chest and released pain into his body, making him collapse again. You smiled proudly as you ran back to the room where Peter was, freezing in your place at what you saw.

The first thing you noticed was that all the men were gone. As your eyes searched the room, they landed on Peter, who was lying on the floor. His mask was off, but what really stood out to you was the giant pipe in his chest.

“Hey, peaches.” He smiled weakly at you as blood spilled out of his mouth.

“What happened?” You swallowed gravely as you knelt down beside him. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you watched your best friends blood leave his body.

“I’ve been impaled.” Peter laughed as he touched the entry wound, craning his neck to see how bad he was. Once he saw it, he let out another laugh that made his blood gurgle in his throat.

“Peter.” You whispered as hot tears streamed down your face. You reached forward but he swatted your hands away to the best of his ability.

“Wait. Don’t touch me.” He croaked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well I can’t just watch you die.” You shouted as you tried to touch him again.

“Please. Don’t.” He begged as he pushed you away. “You don’t know what it’ll do.”

“But I know what will happen if I don’t, and that’s not an option I’m willing to entertain.” You shook your head as you reached for him once again.

“Please.” Peter pleaded. “Don’t.”

If the situation were different, you’d laugh at the fact he was begging you not to touch him the day after he told you how much it hurt him that you didn’t touch him.

But the situation was dire, and there was no room for laughter.

“Hold still.” You instructed as you placed your hands on either side of his face.

“Y/n. Don’t.” He said weakly, the light behind his eyes beginning to dim.

“I have to.” You whimpered as a test rolled down your cheek and landed on his face. “I can’t lose you.”

Before Peter could respond, you bent down and kissed him. You drew the pain out of his body through your lips, feeling the excruciating agony he was in transferring itself into your body. As the pain grew more unbearable, you kissed him harder. Tears of anguish were rolling down your face as your veins filled with fire. You opened your eyes in time to see the wound on Peter’s chest closing, and that’s when you collapsed.

~

Your eyes fluttered open, and quickly shut, as the fluorescent hospital lighting stung them. You let them adjust by slowly opening your eyes, looking around the room as you did. You saw Peter sitting in a chair in the corner of your hospital room and tried to call out to him, but your throat was bone dry.

“Peter?” You croaked out, making him look up. You tried to sit up in bed, but the IV’s and tubes in your body made that difficult. Every fiber in your body felt sore, so you gave up on sitting up. Peter rushed to your side and knelt down beside you, almost taking you leave hand in his but deciding against it.

“Hi peaches.” He smiled softly at you. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” You licked your dry lips. “What time is it? Is everyone back from the mission?”

“It’s almost 4 am.” He checked his phone. “Everyone got back from the mission safely. You’ve, um, you’ve actually been out for a few days.”

“I have?” You panicked, hating that you lost time. Peters lips tightened into a frown as tears welled in his eyes, quickly looking away so you wouldn’t see.

“We weren’t sure you’d wake up.” He mumbled as he wiped his face.

“Have you been here the whole time?” You asked, knowing the answer already.

“Where else would I be but by your side?” He smiled sadly.

“Have you eaten?”

“I can’t really keep anything down.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to eat knowing my best friend is getting all her nutrients through an IV in her arm.”

“You should get something to eat.” You said gently.

“Is that really what you want to talk about?” Peter asked hoarsely as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Well what do you want to talk about?” You tried to joke. Peter stared at you for a moment before standing up and turning his back to you, his body language telling you he was crying. After composing himself, he looked over his shoulder.

“You almost died.” He said dully before quickly looking away.

“I know.” You swallowed, feeling uneasy all of the sudden.

“Why did you do it?” He whispered. “Why did you heal me?”

“Because.”

“Because why?” He raised his voice. “I’ve been sitting here, raking my brain, trying to figure out why the smartest girl I know would make such a stupid decision. I was on the brink of death and you still took my pain. You could have died. Do you realize that? You could have died.”

You looked at Peter for a moment before letting out a laugh that lead to a cough.

“Why are you laughing?” Peter asked angrily.

“Because it’s funny.” You laughed as you rubbed your tired eyes.

“What’s funny?”

“It’s funny how you think I wouldn’t die before I lost you.” You said as your laughter died down. You and Peter looked at each other for a moment as you realized this wasn’t just a mere crush.

This was love.

“I thought you wanted to minimize the casualties.” Peter said as tears came back to his eyes. Tears stung at your own eyes as you used all your strength to call him over with your hand.

“Come here.”

Peter wordlessly went to you and knelt down beside you. You took his hand but didn’t meet his eyes, the contact being enough.

“I want you, okay?” Your voice shook as you kept your eyes down. “Don’t you dare think I don’t want you. I think about you all the time. It debilitates me. Sometimes, I can’t even breath until you’re with me.”

“Then be with me.” Peter cried, squeezing your hand tightly.

“I can’t.” You sniffled as you let go of his hand. “It’s too dangerous.”

Peter looked at his now empty hand and sucked in a sharp breath.

“So what do we do? Just continue dancing around each other?” He raised his voice. “I can’t do that anymore. I won’t.”

“I love you.” You promised. “Isn’t knowing that enough?”

“I would have you.” Peter said in defeat. “If it were enough, I would have you.”

Without another word, Peter left the room.

Two weeks later, you were able to return to the tower. Peter stopped coming to visit you in your room, but you always saw him lurking in the waiting room. You moved back into your old room and grew to miss the sound of him knocking at your door, asking you if you wanted to watch a movie. The first time you made direct eye contact since the day in the hospital happened early one morning before training.

“Hey.” You smiled sweetly at Peter as you walked into the kitchen. Your face was still a little bruised and swollen, which made it hard for Peter to look at you.

That, and the fact he couldn’t be with the girl he loved.

“Hey.” Peter responded without looking up at you. You figured he’d be upset, but you weren’t expecting the cold shoulder. You silently got out a cereal bowl and the carton of milk.

“Mind if I sit here?” You asked politely as you pointed to the sets next to Peter.

“Sure.” Peter mumbled. You put your bowl down next to Peter’s and smiled at him, but he didn’t look at you.

“You look nice.” You tried to spark conversation. “I like this shirt on you.”

“Thanks.” Peter answered dully. Your lips tightened as you felt tears threaten your eyes.

“Please don’t shut me out Peter. It’s me. It’s peaches.” You laughed sadly as you looked at him. “I know we can’t be together but we can’t still be friends.”

“How can we be friends?” He finally looked at you. “How am I supposed to be your friend when my hands twitch because they want to hold yours so badly? Are we supposed to pretend we’re not in love with in each? And just wait until that love goes away? Is that your plan?”

“You’re not being fair. I’m doing this to protect you.” You threw your spoon down angrily and got out of your seat.

“I don’t need you to protect me.” Peter shouted as he got up as well.

“Then what do you need?” You shouted in his face. Peter immediately took your face in his hands and kissed you just as passionately as the first time. You clutched his shirt to keep him as close as possible as you kissed him back with everything you had in you. He pulled away much too soon, leaving the both of you breathless.

“More of that. That’s what I need.” He panted. “Everyday, if I could.”

“I’m not gonna change my mind about this.” You shook your head sadly.

“And I’m not gonna change how I feel about you.” Peter said definitively.

“Then nothings going to change.” You whispered as a tear rolled down your cheek.

“Alright then.” Peter stepped back from you. “The dance goes on.”

@awesomebooklover17​ @thebookwormlife​ @imanativeofswlondondahling​ @weirdr-artiest​ @serendipitous-amor​ @dummiesshort​

@foreverxholland​ @lavender-writer​ @captainmandeestudent17​ @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @theolwebshooter​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines​ @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @justcallmehitgirl​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @maryjanee23​ @geeksareunique​ @emmamarshmellow​ @unbelievableholland​ @rebekkah4766​ @flixndchill​ @sovereignparker​ @thisisthebiplace​ @spideydobrik​ @every-marveler-ever​ @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e​ @eridanuswave​​ @itscaminow​​ @fiantomartell​ @solarxmoonchild​ @where-art-thau-romeo​ @canyouevencauseicant​ @illwritetomorrow​ @thehappygrungelife​ @saysomethingspiderman​ @parkerboop​ @smilexcaptainx​ @quaksonhehe​ @kelieah​ @kickingn-ames​ @babeyspidey​ @seasidecrowbar​ @lovelessdagger​ @love-sick-blues​ @electraheart-3174​  @unbelievableholland​ @yourtypicalhotmess​ @spideyanakin​ @horanxholland​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​ @anapocalypseinmymind​ @marshxx​ @heyheycharlatte​ @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie​ @tomshufflepuff​ @cookiemonstermusic258​

@maybemona​ @young-romanoff​ @alexxcorona113​ @fancyxparker​ @lethal-wisdom​ @xo-spidey​ @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @pandaxnienke​ @theincredibledeadlyviper​  @thestylestour​  @officialsimppage​ @mrvelscaptains​ @peterspideysstuff​ @reemusluupin​ @perspectiveparker​ @itsemohours​ @satanswitchings​ @okkulta​  @parkerlovebot​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @mati4188​ @geminiparkers​ @jungkxxkk​ @friendlyneighborhood-mendes​ @whatthefuckimbisexual​ @olixerwxxd​ @starkbrain​ @creatorofthegalaxy​ @far-from-holland​ @fermuda2​

@thebloodrobin @florencxs @hermayone @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @patricks-fabulous-face @tom-holland-is-bae @creatorofthegalaxy @far-from-holland @captainmarvelnerd @fermuda2