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suzyandthefox · 9 months ago

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Golden King

Help I'm running out of motivation and ideas

Anyway, Soft safe Sfw M/M G/t vore story, Unwilling prey.

Tag list: @pineappleparfaitie

Tailor has served the Golden king for as long as he knows, he had always looked upon the golden titan with admiration, more than admiration,even.

But the problem was, he was a small,frail human, who barely does anything of importance without collapsing, and He,The Golden King,Midas, was a titan.

A behemoth of sixty feet, who, despite being generous and gentle with Tailor,has never appeared to be truly… present in the moment.

Poor Tailor assumed that His highness, Midas, had so many things on his mind, the last thing he would care about was an insignificant being like himself.

It was even more accentuated by the fact that he never saw what's underneath his golden armour, save for the occasional glimpse of two pools of gold that he feared to look at, no matter how inviting they were,in fear of being swallowed by their beauty, and forgetting whom they belonged to.

However, all of this changed one fateful night.

=============

Ever since the Cursed King has met Tailor, he has made the human his -he would say servant, but the rest of those in his domain only saw a pet-

It wasn't out of pity, quite the opposite, he loved the boy, he loved him in the way a king loves his servant, and in the way a father loves his son, and in-between these two was a special kind of love he could not name, but it made for the desire to protect the little one from anything and everything.

So from then on,Tailor has always been by the side of the king, in the literal sense, for the boy has not known a moment without Midas in his vicinity, holding him in the palm of his gold-coated hand or on his shoulder, and when Midas does leave him, if even for a few moments, he becomes filled with great distress, and the crushing weight of dread and vulnerability.

That night, it was one of these moments.

The boy’s legs could not carry him, as if he was going to collapse at any moment, exhaustion eating at his frail body.

And yet, he refused even the idea of leaving his king, insisting that he could still be of use, that the fatigue was only a mere hindrance.

“Rest.” Midas ordered, as gently as a father would order his son, but it still had the firmness that proved he was king.

“I can't rest when you haven't rested yourself, your highness.”

“Boy, you would be the first to know there's no rest for me.”

“Exactly, your highness”

The Cursed King sighed deeply, and contemplated his next words, he knew how distressed -frightened even- the boy felt when he wasn't around, and he also knew that he had to choose his words carefully, or else he would cause even more fear within Tailor.

Words be damned then, if Tailor wouldn't rest by demand,then he would rest by force.

He narrowed his eyes and thought for a moment if what he was going to do was the right choice, it made sense in his mind, but it was the execution and the consequences of said action that made him hesitate for a second.

His hand rested idly on his armored torso as he thought a bit more about the idea of swallowing his small servant whole.

Meanwhile, the servant was equal parts confused and worried about his master's sudden silence. His highness was thinking for sure, but about what? What it is that made him silent all of a sudden?

“Tailor”

The sudden calling of his name shocked him.

“I order you to go to your own bed and rest there, and if you dare disobey…”

“I will have to take drastic measures.”

Tailor swallowed, Midas was… threatening him? He who was always obedient and never dared to defy? But after a moment he realized, yes, this is what he gets for daring to defy the Golden King, and between his desire to stay by Midas’ side, and to be the good servant he was always meant to be, he chose to defy.

“I'm sorry… I'm so very very sorry…” The boy said between bated breaths.

“But no, I have to disobey you this one time, I don't have it in me to leave your side…”

Midas narrowed his eyes again, and even if the helmet had obscured his face, Tailor could just feel the anger forming underneath it.

“You have left me no choice then.”

In a quick but careful motion, Midas plucked the boy in a firm grip, and brought him close to his face.

He waited another moment, for it was the first time he observed Tailor from such a close distance.

The boy was a frail,soft thing. Big, frightful eyes staring into his own and welling with tears, and now that he held him in his hand and looked at him with all attention, he realized just how small he was.

It felt even more right to devour the sweet little thing, to swallow him whole and make him his own, whether that was his instincts as a Titan or a dark desire that he only acknowledged now, he did not know.

“Your …highness?”

It was too late to go back.

He winced when he heard the faint sobs, but still brought Tailor to his mouth, despite the protests and the begging.

He made it as quick as it could be, constantly reminding himself that it was Tailor that he is swallowing whole, and it was for a good cause.

He had not spent a moment tasting the human, instead he went with it as if he was swallowing a pill, despite his instincts screaming at him to do the opposite.

It scared him, how easy it was, how natural it felt, to be doing this, like he was always meant to do this, barely a single swallow and the poor little thing vanished.

He couldn't help but rest his now empty hand on his abdomen, as if he wanted to feel Tailor within his depths-No, it was as if he feared that he will lose the boy inside him and be unable to sense him.

But the feelings of fear and sorrow that stirred in his heart, feelings that weren't his own, has proved to him that the boy was still alive and awake.

He sighed again, as to adjust himself mentally to the reality of what he had just done.

He should be up and going now, but he couldn't move until he was fully sure that Tailor was completely safe and trusting of the new environment, or at least until he was trusting enough to rest in there.

=============

Tailor was sure this is the end.

He knew there was going to be consequences to his disobedience, but as soon as he was held like that , he wasn't sure if he was ready anymore.

For the first time in his life he found the courage to stare directly at the King’s golden eyes, and a wave of awe washed over him as he saw his own reflection in Midas' eyes.

Everything soon turned into a horrible nightmare as he realized what was going to happen, he broke into tears as the titan’s warm breath sent shivers down his spine.

He closed his eyes and tried to deny what is happening to him, but it was far too much for him to ignore.

Tailor couldn't take it, and he sobbed in pain, not even able to find the strength in himself to fight against the titan’s overwhelming strength, so he let himself be carried to the final destination.

It, at first,felt like it lasted forever, and in that forever, Tailor had went deep in thoughts, a thousand why’s came to him.

Soft, slick flesh held him in the strangest type of embrace, and yet Tailor was far too lost in his own mind, why has His Highness done this? And if the intention was to devour all along, Why not earlier? Why have he not chewed, and opted to swallow his frail form whole instead?

The long journey ended faster than he thought, when he felt himself slip into a larger room, and finally he could breathe and move his limbs.

Between his fear, sorrow, and the tiniest bit of curiosity, Tailor was completely lost, both mentally and physically.

He felt that the innards of the titan were a maze, so he chose to stay where he is, where His Highness would want him to be, as a good little morsel.

He couldn't stop crying, however, and he constantly mumbled “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm very sorry…” over and over, as he shivered weakly.

=============

Midas bit at his lip, deep guilt clawing at his heart, he couldn't handle Tailor’s crying in normal circumstances, and now he was the very reason he was crying.

He wished there was an easier way, but he reminded himself that it was all for a good cause, and that his own body was the safest place on earth when he made his mind to it.

“Little one…” He first spoke in a whisper, fearing that he may be too loud for the boy deep within him.

But he soon realised that the latter was not listening to him.

He repeated, but only received frightful, regretful mumbles.

“Tailor!” He finally demanded, and as if the boy wasn't small enough, he shrunk in size, which caused Midas to feel even more protective of him.

“Y…Yes, Your highness?”

Midas took a deep breath, and gently spoke:

“Look around you, child, and listen, do you truly know where are you?”

Tailor listened as Midas ordered him to, he heard a powerful heart, steadily beating, every single beat shook him to his core.

He heard the breathing, now hitched and shallower than it was as it reflected Midas' emotions at that moment.

Tailor wanted to speak, but whatever he was going to say wasn't important at that moment.

“You are within me,closer than any being could ever be, safe and hidden within an impenetrable fortress of gold.”

“And you have always known, little one, I have never hurt you, I never will, and tonight is no exception.”

The servant was even more confused, yes, he always trusted his master, but how in the world is being eaten alive safe?! And if Midas' intention wasn't to hurt him, then what was it?

“It's… not a punishment?”

“Because I… Disobeyed you?” The boy squeaked.

“Well, it's both a punishment and a reward.”

“You have been stubborn as a bull, you weren't going to be convinced to go to your chambers, and I knew you will refuse to leave my side, I had to keep you close somehow, while also giving you somewhere to rest,”

“It made sense to me then that I carry you in my stomach, for you will both be with me and within a safe, comfortable place”

“I…apologize for putting you through such an experience, I should have warned you about what I was going to do first, but…”

“I may have been eager, desperate,or impatient.” Midas finished, and got up to walk to his own chamber.

“You are dear to me,Tailor, the dearest. For you to be here right now, under my heart and within my ribcage, for me to hold you not unlike how a mother holds her child, it's a testament of my love for you, and how important you are to me.”

“It's something only I can only give to you, and only you can receive from me.”

His eyes teared as he said these words, for he only now realised how much he cherished the human, and yet never took the time to tell him that, or to tell him anything besides demands.

Meanwhile, Tailor began to acquaint himself with the new environment as he attentively listened to Midas.

He placed his hands on the soft inner walls of the stomach, reassuring himself that it was, as Midas said,safe.

That he himself was safe and sound.

He let out an understanding hum as he adjusted himself, now laying on his back instead of curling into a small ball.

But it was when Midas drew the comparison between himself and a mother, that Tailor couldn't control his tears and began sobbing again.

“No… Boy, what made you cry again?” His Highness asked with worry.

“It's just… You have been my family, your highness, before I met you, I never felt loved by anyone…”

“But it all changed when I met you, even when you haven't told me that you cared for me,I knew that you did…”

“And now…now that I'm here, with you, within you, I just…”

“I don't deserve any of this…”

The boy said as he turned to the walls and hugged them.

“But it already happened, Boy…”

“You may as well cherish it while it lasts” Midas said, in an uncharacteristic, tender tone that made the boy heavily blush.

“Yes, Your highness… And thank you.”

“Now rest as I told you, I shall let you out in the morning.”

“Yes…Your highness…”

Tailor wiped his tears, the darkness and humidity of the area around him made him realize just how exhausted he is, it was impossible to resist the gentle lulling of the organ.

“This is between us,Got it, Little one?” There was the slightest hint of playfulness in his voice, which made the servant giggle.

“Got it.” Indeed, this was their little, special secret.

#g/t vore #sfw vore #vore writing #safe vore #soft vore #vore story #e a/t #swwh #nsx vore

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evanbuckleyrecs · 9 months ago

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Buddie AUs over 20k

To catch up on recommending fics in my bookmarks, I'll also try to make some lists instead of posting one fic per post. Though some fics might also still get their own posts even while added in a list.

To start, here are some finished Buddie AUs with more than 20k words

(I made this list in March so it doesn't have any newer fics. Soon I want to spend a day dedicated to catching up to new fics and adding posts to my queue here)

what if you're someone I just want around by ReallySmartLadyMarieCurie

20k, Rated T

"Eddie pauses in his typing, glancing at Buck and trying to figure him out. He seems so eager to help and to please, so willing to take some of the burden in order to make others happy. It’s the sort of presence that Eddie’s been craving in his life. One that he’s missed since Shannon’s fatal accident. And he’s incredibly handsome. He’s got conventional good looks and a beautiful smile, but that pink little splotch above his eye, which Eddie guesses is a birthmark, is really what brings it home."

Or, Eddie Diaz is a successful boxer who's been making a big name for himself in recent years. Buck is a fan, but he certainly never expected to end up at Eddie's house after the man calls 9-1-1 when his son gets sick.

I love the way you spoil me, baby by rosebuddiekin

33,8K, rated E

“I, uh, I was actually at that coffee shop to meet with someone else. You see, for the past few years, I’ve been a sugar daddy on a site that connects people looking for similar things. I was supposed to meet with a prospective baby that day, but then I saw you. And I felt drawn to you, so I messaged the guy I was supposed to be seeing and told him I had to cancel. I just, I thought you should know. That I should be upfront about it from the start.”

Eddie’s fork drops to his plate, making a small clatter. He can feel that his mouth is agape. He’s very glad he hadn’t taken another bite or sip of anything while Buck spoke. Because what the actual fuck? Buck… is a sugar daddy.

OR: Buck is a sugar daddy who wants to spoil Eddie rotten and take care of everything for him. Eddie has never had that sort of relationship but is willing to give it a try. There is plenty of adventure along the way.

Sunny skies & summer high by prettyboybuckley

Sequel to a one shot, 43,8K, rated E

 "Well, I kind of want to kiss you right now but that's usually something that happens at the end of a first date, right?" Buck asks, doing a weird movement with his eyebrows in an attempt to be funny.

Eddie chuckles, wrinkling his nose a little.

"I guess, yeah," he mutters. "Think we're doing this a little backward already anyway, so are there any rules to follow?"

He's got a point there, and even then Buck has never really been the kind of guy who follows rules, so he ends up leaning over the center console as he uses one hand to pull Eddie's face towards him. It's a short kiss, a simple peck hello that Eddie chases after when Buck pulls away again.

OR: Buck and Eddie sneak around behind Eddie’s family’s back, spend the summer together, smoke a lot of weed, and fall in love along the way

Kiss me before It's over (if only for a minute) by Bob_loblaws_lawblog

54,2K, Rated E

Evan Buckley is living out his childhood dream as the star hitter for the Philadelphia Phillies. He’s climbing the ranks, improving his stats with every single game – he’s unstoppable.

That is, until the Los Angeles Angels get a new pitcher seemingly out of nowhere. Known for his strong arm and tricky curve balls, Eddie Diaz is one of the few pitchers in the nation who consistently makes Buck strike out, and its infuriating. Even from the sixty feet that separate them between the batter’s box and the pitcher’s mound, the weight of Diaz’s gaze is enough to make Buck’s blood boil.

Because Buck doesn’t get nervous on game day, he never feels calmer than when he steps up to the plate with the bat in his hand – it’s where he belongs. But when he sees Eddie Diaz standing on that mound, his stomach flips and nerves spark across his skin.

Because if there is one thing Buck knows for sure, it is that he hates Eddie Diaz.

… Until he doesn’t.

Traded by princessfbi

23,7K, rated M

Really, it was Lena’s fault. She’d been the one to demand a video when Eddie had finally caved and sent an SOS to the group chat asking if anyone was willing to trade.

“Is anyone interested in trading jerseys with me? Preferably for a smaller size,” Eddie had said because knowing his coworkers, one of them would’ve been a smart ass and gave him an even bigger size. “I ordered an XL because I’m usually a XL but… the way it fits makes me look like I’m fucking one of the players.”

Eddie wasn't trying to go viral. He just wanted to trade his jersey. But then something called Booktok got involved.

Bartender!Eddie Diaz x Hockey Player!Evan Buckley

Snowed Inn by brewrosemilk

31,1K, rated M

Rivaling for a promotion, journalists Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz get sent to a small town where they are each to write a piece on a once illustrious inn and its rich history. For two talented and overconfident authors, it sounds like an easy assignment - but in between a violent snowstorm, blocked roads, heated stares, and a struggling inn, Buck and Eddie may just have to abandon their rivalry and accept each other as partners.

Don't play games (come my way) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

43,1K, Rated E

Buck hates Eddie Diaz.

Ever since his publishing company and Eddie's merged, the man has been nothing but a pain in Buck's ass. The way he nitpicks all of Buck's company emails, the way he spends half his day bickering with Buck, the way he makes Buck's stomach flip and the way he's started haunting Buck's dreams... yeah, it's one hundred percent hate. Definitely. Buck's sure of it.

Because what the hell else could it be?

Falling slowly; sing your melody (I'll sing it loud) by princessfbi

55,3K, Rated E

Buck didn’t like him at first.

Eddie Diaz was all hard lines and strict rules with a bone structure that could cut through glass and scared away his fans. Which... if you asked Bobby, was the point but still!

He also yelled at Buck which was fine. It’s not like it hurt his feelings.

It didn’t.

It didn’t, Maddie!

It also definitely didn’t turn Buck on either. Nope.

Stop it, Maddie!

After a traumatizing home invasion, Bobby Nash decides to hire a bodyguard for his lead singer.

Musician!Buck Bodyguard!Eddie

More fics to be recommended soon!

#911 #buddie #911 on abc #buddie fanfic rec #buddie fanfiction #rated m #rated e #20k+#alternate universe #buddie recommendations #buddie au #911 abc #911 fanfiction

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roanofarcc · 6 months ago

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PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER SIXTY THREE → THE FREAKSHOW

summary: steve harrington x oc || Ao3

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.

word count. 2.7k || masterlist || ocs moodboard

warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.

previous chapter ← → next chapter

Tagged. @sattlersquarry, @leptitlu, @two-sides-samecoin

The subdivision was quiet that afternoon. A strange calm had settled over Hawkins that spring, but Steve had learned not to let his guard down anymore. Nothing was ever calm in Hawkins, and his nerves were already pricked with Sunshine a couple of hours away in Indy with her sister. He knew she could handle herself if she ran into any trouble, and he tried to convince himself that she wouldn’t run into any trouble, but there had been a knot of worry tied inside his gut since he was little. He worried about everything, all of the time. The revelation of other dimensions, monsters, and bad men only made that knot worse. But he did his best to distract himself.

“Turn your elbow like this,” Steve said, moving his arm to mimic the motion of the kid beside him. “It’ll help your aim.”

Lucas fixed his arm and shot the basketball, putting it right through the old hoop Steve had dug out of his garage. Since Lucas told Steve he was thinking of trying out for the basketball team last fall, Steve had been helping him practice. Between all of his high school highs and lows, basketball had been the only consistent thing for Steve, and something he still enjoyed. It served as a normal distraction for both of them, but especially Lucas. The kid was really good too and made varsity his freshman year. And while he most rode the bench, Lucas had too much potential to stay there forever.

The ball bounced against the cement and Lucas raced to grab it, dribbling it back down the driveway to where Steve stood. He was quieter than normal; Steve was the only person, besides Lucas’s dad, who the kid could have an actual conversation about basketball with. His friends weren’t interested in it, and Steve wasn’t sure of the last time Lucas had a full conversation with Max, to everyone’s dismay.

“You all right, Sinclair?” Steve asked.

He shrugged, eyes glued to the ball. “This game’s a big deal, right?”

“A really big deal,” Steve replied. There were only a handful of times Hawkins High made it to the championship of anything. “But, you know, all you can do is play your best.”

Lucas snorted a sarcastic laugh. “You sound like Sunshine.”

Steve smiled. “Occupational hazard.” She had rubbed off on him, even more so since they were dating. Her sunny disposition and pep talks, along with her adoration of the simple things in life. He saw the world differently with her, and not just the bad stuff that crawled out of portals or gates. The world was a scary place, but it also held a lot of good stuff, you just had to look through the weeds and interdimensional vines to see it.

“I know the pressure can be tough, but you’ll be fine.”

Lucas held the ball in his hands, slumping his shoulders slightly. “It’s not just that. This game is important to me, but Mike and Dustin want me to skip it for the D&D campaign. I guess Eddie refuses to reschedule.”

Steve rolled his eyes. He didn’t really know the guy, their paths rarely crossed in high school. Either Steve was running with Tommy and Carol, too busy to notice nerds like Eddie Munson, or he was sulking in his fall from grace and reeling from monsters and bullies. He’d heard of Eddie, in a small town it was impossible to not know everyone, whether you liked to or not. Rumor had it he was some super-senior drug dealer, and that sounded like the last person Steve wanted hanging around the party. But Dustin refuted the rumors and made Eddie out to be some kind of king of the nerds.

It was embarrassing, and Steve hadn’t even admitted it aloud to Sunshine yet, but he was a little jealous of the Hellfire Club caption. Sure, on paper, he was probably the cooler person to hang out with in the eyes of Dustin because he loved the same game they did, but Steve had thought that he and Dustin were the ultimate duo. He was like Steve’s little brother, annoying and sometimes a pain in the ass, but someone Steve couldn’t see not in his life. But it seemed like Dustin was no longer interested in hanging out with him.

It made Steve feel even more useless to the gaggle of teens, like he really didn’t have a place in the grand scheme of their monster-hunting team anymore.

“Your friends can’t miss one campaign to come watch you play?” Steve asked, shoving aside his own weird issues with some dude he’d never even talked to before.

“Guess not.”

“Well, what about Max?”

Lucas sighed again, hugging the ball to his chest like he was trying to get some kind of comfort from it. “She still won’t talk to me. She hardly talks to Mike or Dustin. Every time I try, she shrugs me off with some excuse. I don’t know what else to do.”

Max didn’t like change, which Steve figured out very quickly after getting to know Max. Moving across the country was one thing, but what she’d experienced since being in Hawkins was another beast. No one could blame her, they all just wished she’d let them help her. Sunshine seemed to be the only one who could get through to her somewhat. She shut the party out, caved in on herself. Lucas was the most distraught over it.

“There’s not much you can do,” Steve said. “You can try to be there for her, but you can’t magically make everything better.”

“It just sucks. We know people with superpowers and know there’s another dimension, but we can’t, like, fix any of the shit we’ve been through. We just have to take it and pretend like…like it’s fine.”

It was beyond frustrating, but that had become their lives. Steve’s mind glazed over it, trying hard not to think too much about it until the world threatened to end again.

“Look on the bright side, you’ve only got four more years here. Then you can play basketball at some D1 school, pretend like Hawkins was some fucked up nightmare or something.”

Lucas laughed but it was mixed with a little scoff. “Yeah, if I live that long,” he muttered, and Steve’s gut turned uncomfortably. He didn’t like that, jokes like that were too real. “And if they ever let me off the bench.” He tossed the ball at Steve, who caught it despite being slightly thrown off guard.

Dribbling the ball, back up the driveway, Steve shoved away the pit in his stomach and focused on the task at hand. “Hey, with my help, you might even get to play in the championship.”

“Yeah,” he replied, sarcastically. “I might even win the whole thing.”

→←

“This feels…unethical,” Will Byers said, chewing nervously on his nails as he stood lookout for Leia.

She stopped, turning her head to look at him. “Really? I could name ten unethical things that have been done to the two of us alone. This, my dearest brother, is good ole’ fashioned revenge.” She balanced a cup of red paint on the locker shelf with a fishing wire around it. Carefully, she threaded the wire through the slit in the door and fashioned it so that as soon as the locker was opened, the cup would be pulled forward and spill on the unlucky but well-deserving bully.

“I doubt she’s even read Carrie. Angela and her friends aren’t going to get the prank.”

Leia sighed, cautiously looking up and down the empty hall. “They don't need to ‘get it.’ All that matters is that Angela is covered in red paint. She deserves a lot worse for laughing at El’s project, but Joyce said we’re grounded if we commit a crime.”

“Technically, I think she said we’re grounded if we’re caught committing a crime.”

Leia paused before she shrugged. “If this doesn’t work, then I’ll think of something illegal. Until then…” She dusted her hands off on her paint-stained overalls from an art project gone slightly rouge and clapped Will on the shoulder. He had grown even taller since their move, Joyce said it was probably the sun that was making all of them grow like weeds, but Will still curled into himself and tried to make himself smaller among their new Cali-folk.

While Leia probably should have been more wary about a new school, but she had a different view of it. She had never attended any kind of school, so she had no expectations. Bullies didn’t bother her because she was good at brushing them off. All of the teasing from Kali’s friends made her skin thick and she had a little voice in her head reminding her she had superpowers and they didn’t; it made her feel better.

Will flew under the radar too. He was quiet and good at blending in, making himself a small target. Luke followed in his footsteps, spending most of his time tucked away in the library which most kids avoided besides the nerdy and quiet ones. It was El that caught all of the flack.

By some unlucky chance, she had caught the eye of a blonde-headed all-American mean girl the second she stepped through the school doors. El was kind, she wanted to be friends with everyone but had a hard time picking up on social cues. And the second Angela got a whiff of El’s slight unusualness, she latched on like a hungry shark. How some freshman had a cult following of brightly dressed, rich friends who would do anything she said, Leia had no idea. It was like they stumbled into the set of a movie riddled with cliches that Leia thought weren’t actually supposed to happen in real life. Yet, there Angela was, laughing at El while she tried to present a project she had worked really hard on. Apparently cruelty earned you cheap laughs; Leia wanted to fry Angle to a crisp.

She had to settle for ruining the bully’s outfit.

The bell rang, singling the end of class. Leia and Will stood innocently at the water fountain and subtly watched as Angela and her clique waded down the hall, her blonde ponytail swinging with each step. She arrived at her locker, entered her combo, and yanked it open. Out poured the red paint, splashing down the front of Angela’s shirt. She let out a shrill scream that echoed through the hall, causing people to stop.

Angela wiped her hands against the paint, smearing it into the fabric and getting a layer coating her palms and fingers. It looked like blood, but the smell of paint quickly filled the air, making the hall smell just like the art room.

Leia hid her laughter under her hand while Will pressed his lips in a thin line, suppressing a smile. They watched as Angela’s friends surrounded her like a flock of birds. She swatted them away and turned out from her locker with her face nearly as red as the paint. Leia couldn’t hear what she said, but without even cleaning herself up, she took off toward the doors that led to the courtyard of the school.

“Okay,” Will said with a laugh. “You were right; that was great!”

Leia beamed. “I’ve got more where that came from.”

He shook his head, a lightness in his tone that only came out from time to time now. “Come on, let’s go find Luke and El. They’ll want to hear about this.”

Unfortunately, their two siblings did hear about the red paint stunt because El was the first person Angela assumed had pranked her. By the time Leia and Will entered the courtyard, El was sprawled out against the ground with her project in pieces along the sidewalk. Angela was standing the closest to El, her arms crossed and laughing along with the rest of her friends who stood on the sidelines.

El’s face was grief-stricken, and that alone was enough to send Leia running towards her sister. She jammed her shoulder into Angela’s sending the blonde stumbling. El stood and outstretched her hand in a similar way she once did when she used to abilities; it was a reflex, one that would probably take El a long time to shake since she had lost her abilities last summer. Before El did anything to give Angela further ammunition, Leia grabbed El’s arm gently and pushed it back down at her side.

Angela seemed satisfied with sending El and her project to the ground and turned to leave, her front half still coated in paint. A tear fell from El’s eye as she glanced at her broken project. With a gentle sigh, Leia tried to channel her anger into something more helpful for El; it was what Sunshine told her to do when she felt her anger gain control of her, fueling her abilities and asking for something bad to happen. Leia grabbed a hold of El’s shoulder, making her sister look at her.

“Are you okay?”

El frowned, wiping away her tears. She nodded sadly, slumping her shoulders.

“It’s my fault,” Leia said. “I pranked Angela, but I should have known she’d think it was you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” El tried to smile, but it was weak and turned back into a frown when her eyes landed on the pieces of her project.

Will and Luke started picking them up, placing them back in the slightly crushed shoe box. “We can fix it,” Will said with confidence in his voice. He pinched a squirrel figurine in between his fingers before holding it out to El. She grabbed the squirrel and closed her fist around it. “We’ll all help, and it’ll be good as new, all right?”

“All right,” El said quietly. She joined the boys on the ground while Leia scooped out the surrounding area in case any pieces went flying off of the sidewalk and onto the grass. She spotted a couple of popsicle sticks and gathered them before she turned around. Directly behind her was one of her classmates, who sat beside Leia in art class.

Startled, Leia gasped, and the girl’s eyes widened before a sheepish smile fell across her lips. “Sorry!” Abby said. “Didn’t mean to scare you, I just found this.” She held out a small hat that El had made to resemble Hopper’s police hat.

“Thanks,” Leia said, taking the hat with a small ache in her chest. Not a day went by where she didn’t think about Hopper; she missed him, but Joyce was doing everything she could to make the three of them feel a part of their family. It wasn’t the same though. They weren’t in that little cabin in the woods, eating Eggos and watching black-and-white detective movies.

Abby shoved her hands in her pockets and rocked back and forth in her busted sneakers. She didn’t dress like most of the kids at school; her shoes were dirty and her clothes were mended with patches of different colors. Her hair was pin straight and black, with thick bangs cut barely above her eyes. She was odd but in a good way. Abby was always bouncing on her heels or tapping her hands against the tabletop. She spoke quickly but with so much enthusiasm it made Leia feel happy too.

“Angela’s a jerk,” Abby said. “I’m glad someone finally did something, even if it didn’t end super well.”

Leia pocketed the hat with a sigh. “I should have used real pig’s blood.”

“You stole the pain from the art room?”

“Guilty.”

Abby laughed. “That’s amazing! Oh, I would have killed to see her face!” Leia laughed too; it was impossible for her not to. Abby’s laugh was infectious, which often got them into trouble in art when they couldn’t spot giggling in the middle of class.

“Leia, are you ready?” Will called from several feet away. They had cleaned up El’s project and Luke was carrying it in his arms, probably in case Angela had any other ideas. Luke was a little taller and broader, harder to knock down.

Abby gave Leia a smile before she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she turned on her feet and headed across the yard, leaving Leia with a friendly giddiness bubbling inside her chest.

Leia rushed over to her siblings, handing the hat off to El. Together, they all walked back into school, El sandwiched between them. The Hopper-Byers weren’t a typical group of siblings, but it was as if they were destined to be family all along. Maybe they radiated the idea that they didn’t belong, slotted pieces of different puzzles that somehow fit, but there was no denying that they belonged together as a family.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #el hopper #will byers #lucas sinclair #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things 4 #stranger things oc #project sunshine #ao3

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baronessvonglitter · 4 months ago

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Wip Weekend

I have a lot of plates spinning right now, and I hope to have a couple of these done within the week 🤞🏽

First up I have the beginning of "The Girlfriend Experience" where reader/Angel has garnered significant success in her career.

Star of the Year Your boss's hand rests on your lower back, the heat of his palm is felt through the deep back slit of your dress. "I never had a doubt. You've been my shining star since day one," he murmurs in your ear as you gaze upon your award, your manicured finger tracing the engraved letters of your title and your name. "'Rising Star' last year, 'Star of the Year' now. How does it feel?" You take a moment to think about it because it's not an off-the-cuff question. When he asks you something, he really wants to know your answer. In the past couple years you've garnered the coveted spot within the escort agency. You've worked your way up the same as everyone else, but there's something about you that keeps your old clients coming back and the new ones intrigued. You've serviced clients of every rank and status, from businessmen to princes in foreign lands. Even women, though being with them was so easy it rarely ever felt like work. You've made a name for yourself, and as one of the highest grossing performers, you've earned the option to walk away right now. The money in your bank account is showing more zeroes than you've ever thought possible, and you've created the kind of life for yourself where you'll never have to worry about a thing anymore. An apartment in Paris, a brownstone in NYC, a villa in Milan, a Spanish colonial in LA.. not to mention cars you rarely need to drive because you're always being picked up and dropped off in style. You've met with movie stars, designers, everyone of importance. And you could stop working if you really want to. But you don't want to. Giving your boss a smile, you don't take your eyes from his as his hand travels from your back to your waist, gently gliding his fingers towards your breast. "It feels like I've accomplished everything I've wanted to do.. but that doesn't mean I'm done yet, Mr. Martell." He smiles, his teeth perfect and white. "Please. Call me Oberyn."

(Of course Oberyn owns an escort agency, and of course there's going to be a threesome right after this scene with him and Ellaria)

Also, "Maneater", a mini series about Maxwell Lord who's doing what he can to keep his business afloat, even if it means marrying a woman much older than him. @everybodylovedcontractors I hope you like it!

"Mr. Lord, you have a call on line one," Raquel's voice chirps over the intercom. "Who is it?" Maxwell asks, not wanting to be bothered just then. "Your fiancee, Linda St. James," she replies. "It sounds urgent." "Great," he mutters, dreading this call. He dreads all her calls. He lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Put her through." "Does my Maxi-Muffin miss me?" Linda's sickly sweet voice comes over the line. At sixty-five years old she's one of the richest widows in the country, and almost twice Max's age. "I wanted to tell you I'm still in Dallas, but my flight should arrive just in time for us to have dinner at my place tonight." "Oh Linda my dear, I am positively quivering with anticipation of seeing you again," Max lies through his teeth, lining up a shot on his desktop mini pool table. Linda continues. "I was thinking.. over dinner we could talk about that business loan I want to give you," she says in a sing-song voice. Damn, the woman knows how to dangle a carrot. And I'm just her pet, her toy, something to show off to her friends. "Nothing would make me happier than to enjoy a fine dinner with the most.. with such a.. with my lovely bride-to-be," he manages to choke out. Ass kissing comes with the territory of business and finance, but his lack of attraction to his fiancee somehow keeps him from exaggerated compliments. "But if my dear Linda wants to discuss financing my future, then I won't stop her." "You know I love nothing more than to help you," her voice drips with sickly sweetness. "See you tonight at the mansion, honey muffin." She makes kissing sounds over the phone before she hangs up. Max hangs up with a groan of disgust.

And some rom-com Dave, which surprised me, but I think it's really sweet. Featuring Divorce Lawyer!Dave (working on a title) but the first chapter is "Meet Cute" (will also feature Javier Pena, Tim Rockford, and maybe even Ezra..) and because I like getting ahead of myself I'm working out a spinoff rom com with Tim 👀

Dave has been waiting in line with his daughters for only fifteen minutes when the announcement is made that tickets are officially sold out. Alice and Molly look up at him, expecting him to do something, but what exactly can he do? "Look, girls, I'm sorry. We'll have to come back another day." "We wanted to see the exhibit. I wanted to take a selfie with those big neon wiggly things," Molly pouts. "I know, sweetie, but it's just not in the cards today." He ruffles her hair. There's a scent of roses as he feels someone approach the three of them. "Hey, sorry, I heard you wanted to get into the exhibit." Dave looks up and sees you, and has a momentary lapse of thought. "Um.. yes, my daughters are kind of upset that tickets sold out so quick. It's my fault for not purchasing them ahead of time." He smiles sheepishly, wondering what you must think of him. "I can get you in with me," you offer. "I have a membership pass. Kids get in free and I can bring one other person." "You don't have to do that-" "Please. I want to." You take a look at his daughters, who are looking back at you with hope in their pretty little eyes. "You'd be doing me a favor by accepting," you tell Dave. The girls tug on his hands, jumping up and down, begging him to take up your offer until he at last relents. "Okay, okay," he chuckles. "Thank you, Miss..?" You give him your name, offer your hand, which he takes in his own. He repeats it back to you, making sure he's got it right, the taste of your name like a sweet swig of wine in his mouth.

And last but not least, a little stepdad!Frankie x coquette!reader I've been cooking up. Not sure if this will be separate parts yet, or one big ol' hunk of a story, but the working title is "Kitten"

Hearing his footsteps behind you, you smirk and lean against the sink, bent over at the waist. "I think something's wrong with the drain." The sight of you like that makes his pulse quicken. He has to take a deep breath to steady himself before speaking. "What do you mean something's wrong with it?" He clears his throat gruffly, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "The water's not going down," you answer, turning around, your t-shirt wet and see-through. Frankie eyes the way it clings to your body, your tits on display, nipples visible, making his mouth water. His composure is nearly lost then and there. "Um, I'm sure it's just.." he struggles to finish the sentence, any coherent thoughts devolving into pure instinct and desire. A bright smile graces your lips. "Whatever it is, I'm sure you can fix it. I trust you with my pipes." You move past him, lightly brushing against him as you walk to your bedroom. "I've gotta get changed. Can't believe how wet I got!"

I'm working on a couple other things as well, which I may feature next week once I have some of this out of my system.

Tagging some moots who tagged me first and/or seemed interested when I bothered them with my ideas (JK y'all are my cheerleaders)

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @mermaidgirl30 @joelalorian @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981

#pedro pascal #ppcu fandom #oberyn martell #maxwell lord #dave york #frankie morales #current wips #my wips #wip weekend #wip it good

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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 1 year ago

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close to home | chapter sixty three

plot: the reader and Daryl reconnect in a treehouse

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 3,499 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd, alcohol use, tipsy sex (the best kind tbh) no plot just smut so ya'll are welcome A/N: thank you for reading!!

By nightfall, a fire was going, Daryl returned from a quick and successful hunt, and you unpacked all your supplies. He’d grabbed mattress pads and blankets, pillows, food, water, candles, and a bottle of wine. Jerry must’ve snuck in one of his cobblers because a small one was sitting in one of the bags. There were also tarps that you didn’t know what for--until Daryl got back and nailed them to cover the windows.

It was dark in the treehouse except for the fire and a few candles. You had already eaten what Daryl brought back--rabbit--and were eating the cobbler straight out of the container with the open bottle of wine.

“I gotta have Jerry tell me how he makes these.” You mumbled through your food. “I could eat one every day of my life.

Daryl smiled at you but didn’t say anything. He’d been quiet since he came back from hunting--which was only about thirty minutes anyway. He was happy, you could tell, and you knew he was at peace, which is why he was quiet.

You grabbed the wine bottle by its neck and took a few sips. “Where did you get this?”

“Stole it from Ezekiel.”

You chuckled and took another sip, feeling it bubble in your chest. “He’s gonna kill you.”

He grabbed the bottle from you and drank from it. “He ain’ ever gonna know.”

You smiled at Daryl and lifted the fork up to his mouth. He rolled his eyes but ate off it anyway.

“Tell me about you from before,” Daryl said, turning around to lay back with his head in your lap.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

You smiled and sat your hand on his upper chest as you thought about his request. You weren’t even sure where to begin, honestly. You decided to first start with your family: your two sisters and mother and father. You told him about growing up on a farm, all the crap that came with it, and all the trouble you got up to.

You told him funny stories about you in high school and the friends you had. About all the silly fights you got into with your sisters and even your cousins. About when you ran away from home, but your mom caught you right before you skipped town.

“College was nice. I made a lot of friends and had so much fun,” You said, putting the wine bottle down. You were definitely buzzed, and you knew Daryl was too from how he laughed freely along with you.

You reached down and unbuttoned his shirt's first couple of buttons to gently run your fingers against his chest. “When I got accepted into medical school, me and my sisters got so drunk at the bar that the sheriff had to give us a ride home.”

“I woulda loved ya back then if we ever met,” Daryl said, looking up at you.

“You wouldn’t have even looked twice. I was a farm-raised nobody.”

He shook his head. “I woulda loved ya. Woulda saw you on the street and been a goner.”

You smiled and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “You’re crazy, that’s what you are.” You rubbed your hand against his upper chest; his skin was smooth other than old scars. With your other hand you grabbed the bottle and took a long sip. It was almost done.

“Tell me about you from before.”

“Ya don’ wanna know about that. Probably would walk right on outta here.”

“I wouldn’t,” You cupped his cheeks and stared down at him. “It’s too cold outside for me to leave. I’d have to at least stay here until the sun was up.”

Daryl swatted your hands away and then begrudgingly told you about him. You already knew more than just the basics, such as how his mother and father died--and you knew how Merle died already. So he told you about his years in high school and how he was always either ditching or suspended for ditching. Which didn’t surprise you.

He’d had a few friends that Merle didn’t fuck up for him, but after they graduated, they went off to college, and he stayed home.

“I was a piece shit, honestly, didn’ do nothin’ good for myself.” Daryl told you.

“That’s not true,” You said, although you partially agreed with him. Not about the piece of shit part, but the old Daryl didn’t seem to make the best decisions and resembled nothing of the man you’d married. “Besides, you’re one of the strongest, bravest, smartest, and sexiest men I know.”

“One of ‘em? Who are the others?”

You laughed at his joke. “You know what I mean, old man.”

“It’s been a while since ya called me that. Didn’ realize till now just how much I missed it.” Daryl sat up and spun around. He grabbed you by the legs and pulled you closer, and you set your legs on his upper thighs, and his were outstretched behind you.

You set your hands on either of his cheeks as your head swooned a little bit. You and him were definitely wine tipsy; enough to take the edges and awkwardness off. But you felt safe up in the treehouse, and you felt protected. You played with the scruff on his chin as he stared at you.

“Do ya believe me?”

You nodded and pressed your forehead against his lips, getting a few soft kisses. You set your hands on his chest and unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way so you could see his skin. You kissed his collarbone and wrapped your arms around his lower waist. His muscles were taunted under your fingertips, and you could feel him tensing each time you kissed him.

Daryl mumbled your name, and his body relaxed against your touch. You scooted closer and moved your lips up his neck. You pushed his shirt off and ran your hands down his biceps; he was so muscular, so strong, even when relaxed. You couldn’t stop yourself from running your fingernails along the lengths of his arm, which left goosebumps in their wake.

You moved your hand down his abdomen and to his jeans, fumbling with the button and zipper for a second while running your tongue up the length of his neck.

“Jesus Christ,” Daryl grunted.

You smiled against his skin before pushing your hand between his jeans and briefs and palming his growing erection. You sucked gently on one of the spots on his neck you knew he loved, and you felt him grow even harder.

One of Daryl’s hands reached up to pull out your braid, and your hair fell over your shoulders, tickling his skin, and he fisted his hand through your hair at the base of your head. You moaned as you sucked on his skin, dipping your hand into his briefs and running it along his velvety smooth skin.

“You’re so hard, honey, is everything okay?” You whispered in his ear.

His chest was moving up and down rapidly as he nodded. You squeezed him before wiping your thumb across his leaking precum tip.

“So fuckin’ sexy.”

“Tell me what you want, old man.” You leaned back to look at his beautiful eyes. “Tell me how you want me.”

“On your knees.”

Not even a minute later, you were naked with your legs spread out, ass in the air, and Daryl was thrusting into you hard from behind. The position had him reaching parts inside of you you didn’t think were possible, and you struggled not to cry from how good it felt.

Daryl’s hands held your hips tight as he slammed into you repeatedly.

Then one of those hands wrapped around your hair, and he pulled you upwards. The pain from it was nothing compared to how good it felt being dominated like that, and you moaned loudly and closed your eyes. One hand wrapped around your middle, with a hand palming your breast, while the other gripped your hip.

“Ya like that?” His breath was hot in your ear, sending chills down your body. “Ya gotta use ya words, pretty girl.”

“Yes, yes,” You were desperate. His hoarse voice in your ear and his grunts and moans were too much for you. “Daryl, I’m going to-.” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you were coming. You clenched around him as you moaned and pleaded his name louder than ever.

“Such a good girl,” Daryl said. His thrusts were like torture through your orgasm, and you could hear how wet you were.

“Daryl,” You moaned. You couldn’t believe this side of him; it had to have been the alcohol. He was never this talkative.

“Ya want more, baby girl? Tell me what ya want.”

You couldn’t even think straight, and then when you felt his lips clamp down around your neck, your eyes rolled back, and you were speechless. But you thanked God Daryl wasn’t.

“Ya so fuckin’ wet for me.”

“I missed this little pussy so bad, gorgeous.”

“Fuck, (Y/N)...”

“Suck on these for me, will ya, darlin’?”

Without even hesitating, you opened your mouth and sucked harshly on his fingers before they were ripped away from you, and within seconds you felt them rub against your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Daryl…” You nearly yelled and leaned your head back against your shoulder.

“Ya know how good ya taste, baby girl?” He asked before bringing his fingers up to his mouth. You turned to watch him; his cheeks hollowed as he sucked you off his fingers. Then he returned them to your clit for a few seconds before showing them in your mouth.

You moaned against his fingers, licking and sucking until he was satisfied. His fingers were only on you for a few seconds before you nearly started yelling when you came again.

“That’s right, baby girl,” He grunted, thrusting through your orgasm. “Tell me how much you like it?”

“Oh God, Daryl, so much.” You moaned loudly. “I need more of you.”

Your back hit the mattress pad, and he was slamming into you before you could blink. Your legs were jelly, and you couldn’t bring them up to wrap around his waist, so they went slack as he fucked you hard. You couldn’t fathom how much stamina he had tonight, nor all his dirty talk.

“Daryl…” You whined as he repeatedly hit the same spot again and again, winding you up all over again.

“I know, baby girl, I know.” His voice was so deep and hoarse in your ear, and you ran your fingernails along his back, making him groan. “‘M gonna fuckin’ cum inside of ya, fill ya up so good. Make ya mine.”

“I already am,” You whimpered at a particularly hard thrust, and you could feel yourself starting to get sore. Tears leaked from your eyes at how good it felt, and he paused for a second and looked at you, wiping them away.

“Feel good?” He asked you under his breath.

You nodded. “Keep going, hard.”

Daryl fucked you like he did the night that he asked you to marry him; hard, with his hands, mouth, tongue, and teeth everywhere he could touch. You were sure you left scratches bleeding down his back as you came one more time before he did, filling you so much so you could feel it leaking out before he even finished.

You winced when he pulled out of you before letting your sweaty body relax into the mattress bad.

“Fuck,” Daryl muttered. “Darlin’, ya bleedin’.”

“Hmm?”

“I made ya bleed, I- I am so sorry.”

You sat up partially and saw little blood on him. “It’s okay. It’s been a really long time since I had it like that. I’m just sore, it doesn’t hurt.”

“Are ya sure?”

You nodded, “Just get something to clean me off.”

He chuckled, gave you a yes, ma’am, and was gone for a second before he was back, taking care of you like he always did. Then he brought you into his arms, and you sighed with content against his chest.

“We should drink like that more often. You were…”

“Don’ remind me.”

You smiled and looked up at him. “I loved it. Why haven’t you said anything like that before?”

“Just kept it up in my head, I guess.”

You snuggled closer to him under the warm blanket. “Well, I except to be called baby girl much more often, old man.”

“Ain’ an old man.”

***

The following day, you woke up to an erection digging into your back so hard you were sure it left it bruise, and you woke Daryl to give his body what it clearly wanted. The two of you made slow, tender love to each other for nearly an hour before your stomach grumbled too hard, and Daryl went to fetch you something to eat from the supplies you brought.

After eating, you got dressed and went outside. The sun was shining again, and about a foot of beautiful, crystal snow had partially frozen over. Your boots crunched over it as you and Daryl worked to clear the platform and the parts of the roof you could reach.

“I wanna walk around. I need to stretch my legs.” You told him as you grabbed your weapons. Your machete went to its usual home, but you left the bow behind.

Daryl followed you down the rope ladder, and you both took a few seconds to look around the area before walking. Flurries were floating around from the branches above you and the wind, so when you looked at Daryl, his hair was coated in them. You knew yours must match.

“You wanna know what I love most about you, Dixon.” You asked him.

“What, Dixon?”

You smiled, your heart fluttering. “That you’re not what I expected you to be. When we first met.”

“What did you expect?”

You shrugged. “Some macho, manly man who didn’t have a care about anything in the world.”

“Ya sayin’ I ain’ manly?”

Laughing loudly, you looped your arm around his. “I’m not saying you aren’t. I’m just saying that you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever known. Both before and after. And I just really admire you for it.” Daryl blushed and shook his head, and you stood on your toes to kiss his red cheek. “Just as I said, sweet.”

Daryl grunted in response and said he was going to check the snares. You watched as he walked away, admiring him in his shawl and how he carried his crossbow. He was a perfect figure against snow blankets, and you bit your lip as you watched him.

There was still lingering anxiety as you looked at him. You believed that he wouldn’t let what happened happen again. But you weren’t quite sure about it. He didn’t know the future. You didn’t. And it killed you to think that it could happen again. You weren’t sure if you could survive it. You barely survived it the first time--if you had, you wouldn’t have fallen into him again so quickly. You would’ve been able to let him walk out of your room at the kingdom and be content with never seeing him again.

You sighed to yourself and crossed your arms. It was freezing but the fresh air felt nice against your rosy cheeks. And the surrounding area was so peacefully quiet that you wanted to bask in it.

Something hit the back of your head, and you felt snow fall into the back of your jacket. You scoffed and turned again. “Did you really just throw a snowball at me, Dixon?”

He had another one in his hand, about five yards from you. He tossed it into the air and caught it. “I did.”

“What are you, ten years old?” You asked but bent down to pick up snow in your own hand. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him about to throw another one at you, and you quickly jumped behind a tree.

“Can’ hide from me, foreve’,”

You smiled widely and leaned against the tree. You could hear the crunch of his footsteps, and when he was close enough, you ducked around the tree and jumped on his back. You shoved the snow into his face and laughed loudly.

“I let ya do that,” Daryl said as he wiped snow off his nose.

Your boots hit the ground, and then Daryl grabbed you, pinning you against the tree before you even realized it. “You did not. You must be losing your touch in your golden years,” You said.

“That ain’ what ya said last night.” Daryl dipped his head and whispered in your ear. “Think ya was tellin’ me how much ya need me.” His voice was deep, and you felt your stomach flip.

You looked up at him as flashbacks of the night before and then this morning when he was buried deep inside you. You felt heat run straight through you, grabbed him by his shawl, and brought his lips to yours. You could still hear those words ringing in your head.

Daryl pushed you against the tree with his body, and you reached down to palm him over his jeans. His lips moved quickly over yours, and his hands couldn’t find a spot to settle.

“Gotta get ya back to the treehouse, huh?” He mumbled against your lips.

You shook your head and unzipped his jeans. “Here.”

“It’s freezin’ out,”

“I don’t fucking care,” You said, kissing him again.

Daryl groaned against your lips before stepping away and taking off his shawl. You were instantly touching him again, trying to reconnect your lips when he had you lie down on the shawl, and he worked at taking off your sweats. You could feel the cold from the snow as soon as your pants were off, but you ignored it.

Your cold fingers worked at lowering his pants enough to get his cock out, and you had only just started moving your hand up and down when he swatted your hand away to spread your legs for him. You bit your lip at seeing him lining up to fuck you.

His fingers were as cold as ice when he rubbed them against your clit and teased your opening. Your eyes screwed shut, and you moaned softly. “Don’t tease me.”

He didn’t say anything as he thrust hard into you, which had you nearly yelling in arousal. Your fingers locked around his neck as he fucked you. You could feel snow everywhere, and your legs tingled with cold, but it was exhilarating. Having him fuck you outside like this.

“Fuck, ya so wet, baby girl,” Daryl grunted in your ear. “All for me.”

***

You and Daryl arrived at Alexandria four days later, hand in hand. Eugene was manning the gate, and he was happy to see the two of you. There were a few other people on watch. Some of them Daryl hadn’t met you, so you introduced them. The streets were slushy, and you kept slipping next to him as you walked toward your house.

"(Y/N)!”

You smiled as soon as you heard Judith yelling for you, and when you saw her running as fast as she could, you dropped Daryl’s hand to meet her halfway. You scooped her up and spun her around before putting her back on the ground and cupping her cheeks. “I missed you so much, Jude.” You said.

“You missed the first snow,” She whined. “We didn’t get to have our annual snowball fight. And you were gone longer than you said you’d be.”

“I know, sweetie. I’m sorry. I came as soon as Adam cleared me.”

“Can I see your scar?” She asked with excitement.

You laughed and nodded. “Later. Look who’s with me.”

Judith looked around you and smiled wide when she saw her uncle. “Daryl!”

You smiled as she threw herself into his arms, and then the door opened, and Michonne walked out in her pajamas. She was thrown off when she saw you but quickly came over to hug you. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I wanted to surprise the kids.” You said, adjusting the bow on your shoulder. You lowered your voice and looked at your best friend, who kept glancing back at Daryl. “We want to work things out. I want to work things out. I love him.”

She slowly smiled and nodded. “I’m happy to see it. Is he moving back in?”

“Yeah, but we can move into one of the emptier houses.”

“No, I want you with me,” Michonne told you. “And it would break Judith and RJ's heart if you did.”

#daryl x reader #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl twd #twd #daryl x you

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year ago

Note

Hey! I was just wondering if you have any ideas of how I can display the fact that a character has aged (not necessarily from adult to elder but just in general) without describing appearance. I’ve tried searching it up but they never really want into detail or they simply advised on changing the character slightly as in giving them old fashioned hobbies. I’m sorry if this has already been answered or does not simply have a direct way and must be decided by the author. Again I am very sorry if this has already been asked I really don’t mind if you either direct me to the answer or copy and paste it if so :)

Showing a Character Has Aged

When it comes to illustrating that someone has aged, you basically have four choices: describe physical characteristics that illustrate age, describe physical activities that illustrate age, indicate the passage of time, flat-out state that the character has aged.

The problem is that aging isn't a wildly specific thing. People don't take on certain physical characteristics, appearance, or activities at exactly the same age. While there are certainly some activities and behaviors that are broadly specific to age categories, age is not accurately defined by behavior, thought process, personality, etc.

If I say, "The last time I'd seen my nephew he was barely crawling, and now he was not just walking, but climbing on everything..." that's a pretty good indicator that this child has aged. But how much? Because babies don't all learn to crawl at the exact same age, or learn to walk at the exact same age for that matter. Some babies skip crawling and go straight to walking. Other babies seem like they'll never go from crawling to walking and suddenly do. This child could be two weeks older than last time or two years older. It isn't clear at all.

Complicating things is the fact that physical appearance is also not a good indicator of age. I mean... as I've pointed out in the past, Paul. Rudd:

Carrol O'Connor (on the left) is the same age in that photo as Paul Rudd is in the photo on the right (both are early 50s here). And while things like hairstyle and fashion do have an impact on how we view someone's age, some people just get wrinkles/gray hair/gain weight/lose muscle tone sooner or later than others.

And, the advice to "give them old-fashioned hobbies" is terrible. "Old-fashioned hobbies"? What, like candle-making and churning butter? What does that even mean? Maybe these people view hobbies like knitting, stamp collecting, and wood-working as "old-fashioned," but I guarantee those are hobbies that are broadly enjoyed by young people to this day.

If I write, "She sat on the couch lovingly knitting a sweater," that tells me nothing about her actual age because:

And, again, the woman on the left could be sixteen or thirty-five, and the woman on the right could be sixty-two or eighty-six.

So, outside of flat out stating that a character has aged, your best bet is to use a combination of these methods to get the point across...

"It had been over ten years since I last saw Mr. Smith. At the time, he'd recently returned from hiking in the Alps. Now he was hunched over a walker, his formerly salt-and-pepper hair now stark white. The deep grooves that had once made his face look handsome and worldly now made him look wizened and tired."

Between stating the amount of time that has passed (over ten years), physical activities (hunched over a walker vs hiking in the alps), and physical appearance (white hair and tired wrinkles vs salt-and-pepper hair and handsome lines), it is very clear that Mr. Smith has aged quite a bit in the decade since the POV character last saw them.

I hope that helps!

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x0x0josephinex0x0 · 1 year ago

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hi I'm the one who asked for the shipping reaction, yes I meant idol!y/n and I'd like it to be romantic

I'm sorry for the confusion 😅

no problem lovey, i just wanted to make sure i got it right for you!! here it is :)

warnings: making out is mentioned. excessively. (for humor.)

seungcheol: this man has been simping for you for the longest time atp. like from the moment he saw you at some award show. he went home and immediately looked up your group and the music videos and watched through them all. he's had a thing for you since then, and then you became friends through a mutual friend (mingyu) and he was absolutely correct in his initial assumption that he'd be obsessed with you for as long as he lives. and when i say obsessed i mean this man DREAMS about you. he wakes up reaching for you even though you've never spent a single night anywhere near his bed. so he's ready for the rumors, baby. he's HOPING someone asks him about you. he's praying dispatch catches you on one of your biweekly coffee dates. he wants the world buzzing with thoughts of the two of you together. he is so damn tired of trying to beam the message into your brain but also doesn't want to wreck a perfectly good friendship if he thinks his feelings are totally coming out of left field. so when the shipping finally starts after you film a dance challenge together he's like "see? we're made for each other" and you're like ???? you liked me??? this whole time??? and he's like "HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW" and you're like "I LIKE YOU TOO OMG" because of course you do, you have eyes. and then you make out.

jeonghan: he literally created no less than sixty fake instagram profiles, with the help of his boys, to start dating rumors between the two of you and convince you that everyone sees you two together/thinks you should date. it becomes a whole thing, tho -- pretty soon the whole internet agrees with him. every time you go live fans ask about him. your company is a chill company with no dating ban but they send you an email being like "do we need to confirm this for your sake??" you have honestly never thought about him specifically like that until this all started happening, but as time goes on you realize jeonghan is everything you ever wanted. he's beautiful and kind to you and your family absolutely loves him. in short, you're whipped for him. and so finally, you ask him to come over, and you confess your growing feelings for him, which he reciprocates fully. he promptly asks you out. you have played right into his hands and he's more proud of himself than he's ever been in his whole life. and then you make out.

joshua: he is the most polite, most genuine man in the universe, so he's NEVER crossing that line of his own accord. and it gets rough. the two of you are literally perishing with desire for one another. you hang out every single day and the looks that pass between you -- desperate, yearning looks -- have the other members cringing and throwing up and BEGGING joshua to make a move. he will not do it because he doesn't want to take advantage of you or make your career/life difficult. finally wonwoo gets fed up with you two. when he gets trapped in a room with the both of you, he tells you both, "the internet is shipping you two." you both blush and look at each other. finally you ask joshua, "what do you think about that?" and joshua's like, "i think that sounds....really nice." wonwoo's like "omg FINALLY" and once he leaves the room, you both confess your longtime feelings for each other and agree to give dating a try. he holds your hand through the whole talk because he knows how nervous you get when confronting your own feelings. you've never smiled harder in your life and joshua's eyes have never been prettier than when he looks at you like he's looking at you. and then you make out.

jun: jun about to mr. darcy this mf. he has this dumb crush on u but he's so anxiety-ridden that he literally does nothing about it but is a blushing mess around you. you find him so incredibly cute all the time that naturally you become his bestie. he slowly falls more in love with you the more you spend time together but still can't find the right words to tell you just how precious you are to him. it's the shippers that push him over the edge, though. he can tell it makes you uncomfortable to be talked about like that, and that worries him EVEN MORE. and so he corners you one day and ruffles his hair all tortured-like and goes "ok so do you just want people to mind their business or do you feel uncomfortable with the idea of dating me?" and you're like "oh it's most definitely the first one because you're a fine piece of manhood" and he's like "oh? well allow me to confess that you have bewitched me, body and soul, and i love...i love...i love you". (yes this is happening at sunrise.) anyway, he tells you that he's liked you from day one, and he'll love you until day infinity. and then you make out.

soonyoung: he approaches you one day and just plops down like he usually does, but this time he takes one of your hands in his. "my fans are geniuses," he says, very seriously, which of course makes you laugh. when you ask why, he brings up his most recent live. you were watching -- you always watch his lives and he always watches yours -- but you had the comments turned off so you could focus on what he was saying. "a lot of the comments were talking about you," he tells you, referring to the recent dispatch photos of you and soonyoung out on the town together. "they said we should date." and suddenly the room is hotter, and you're looking at soonyoung like the world is in his eyes. because for you it is, and it has been. you spend the rest of the evening together, talking about your relationship and your feelings for each other, and slow dancing in the kitchen. and then you make out.

wonwoo: he's pretty much unaffected by shipping/rumors. literally does not care one bit about them. but he's still so in love with you he can hardly see straight. it's only logical that people have started to notice the way he can't keep his eyes off you at events and award shows where you're both in attendance, and are drawing attention to it. to him, this is a perfectly normal progression of events. still, he waits for you to say something because he knows how complicated relationships with other famous people can be and he doesn't want to make you do anything you're not comfortable with. so it's you who approaches him, and it's you who admits that your feelings are less-than-professional and more-than-friendly for him -- exacerbated by the shipping talk, but definitely there before any of that started happening. but then it's him who says, "it's about damn time," and pulls you into his chest for a massive hug. and then you make out.

jihoon: literally why do i feel like jihoon would become the clumsiest most awkward dude if someone hinted that he might like you?? idk i just think my guy would externally be like "hahaha wow that's crazy" when someone pointed out how he'd helped you down off the stage after a music bank performance (and had coincidentally beat minghao to the job even tho minghao was standing a lot closer and was a lot more ready than he was), but internally would be screaming bloody murder BECAUSE SOMEONE NOTICED AND WHAT IF YOU FIND OUT AND THINK HE'S A CREEP AND EVERYTHING GOES WRONG. so he literally cannot be normal around you. gets his hair caught in his headphones during a recording sesh with you and instead of trying to untangle it like a normal human he just rips his hair out. runs into the studio glass. forgets the words to his own song, that he wrote, because he's staring at your lips. finally you just say, "you're being weird. is this because people are shipping us?" and he nods. "i'm sorry...i didn't want you to feel uncomfortable," you say, but he shakes his head. "i like you SO much," he confesses. "and i don't want to screw it up." your jaw drops and you throw your arms around him. and then you make out.

seokmin: he's been joking about being your boyfriend since you met. but little do you know, he wasn't actually joking and really does want to be your boyfriend. but since he's joking all the time, it's a bit difficult to tell that he's serious. until the joke about him being your boyfriend becomes common knowledge among seventeen, who obviously think it's hilarious that you don't know he actually is in love with you. so they tease him all the time about his "girlfriend" during concerts and lives, and eventually fans learn it's you they keep jokingly calling his girlfriend, and it becomes a whole bit for awhile between seventeen and carats. you play along, until you start to sense it bothers seokmin. ever a comedian, you find this odd -- so you ask him. and he's a terrible secret keeper so he tells you that he wasn't joking the ENTIRE TIME, and he'd literally die for you if you asked. this, of course, makes you all kinds of happy, and when you start to giggle he's like "are u laughing at me :(" and you're like "no you dummy I AM ABSOLUTELY DOWN HORRENDOUS FOR YOU" and then you make out.

mingyu: mingyu would just become dumb and giggly around you. kind of like the less uncomfortable jihoon. gets extra clumsy around you and makes a complete fool of himself. breaks everything within a ten-meter radius when he knows he's gonna get to see you that day. the rumors begin because my mans cannot hide his true feelings for even a single second, and he's such a cuddler that he literally gives you a hug on live television. this is the catalyst. this is why fans spam both of your posts on instagram with requests for you two to go on a date. and since you are not an IDIOT, but he is a little bit, you bring it up to him. "so, they think we should date. i think they might be onto something." you give him a significant look, and his eyes get all wide and happy. "really?" he says with excitement. "you'd want to go on a date with me?" and you look him up and down, considering his literally god-like figure and his bright eyes and his perfect smile and go, "yeah, i really would love to go on a date with you." and then you make out.

minghao: is also not the type to give any mental space to any kind of rumor/shipping, but is also extremely whipped for you regardless. when he learns about the shippers he privately is amused because he actually does want to date you, but hasn't told you yet. and you don't bring it up either, worried it will upset him, because as far as you can tell, you're both just friends. although the way he takes care of you is so gentle and thoughtful and kind that you can't resist him. you know it might be your imagination, but you are starting to notice his hugs are a bit tighter, and his eye contact a bit more prolonged. finally it gets to a point where people are constantly asking both of you about each other, so you decide to broach the subject with him. "oh, that," he says when you bring it up. "i'm not worried about it." "i just don't want to be an inconvenience to you," you tell him. he shakes his head. "that could never happen. sometimes it feels like you're the only part of my life that's easy." and coming from hao, you know this is a confession. and then you make out.

seungkwan: bro is COMING APART AT THE SEAMS. he literally embarrasses himself every single time he sees you once the rumors start. because honestly, his feelings started before the rumors, but he refused to acknowledge them until his members started teasing him about you. you'd recently done a variety show together, and even the show hosts commented on how natural and flirty your chemistry had been. and now everything is tense and weird between you two when you hang out, and it's getting ridiculous. "do you care so much about shippers?" you ask him, a bit annoyed. "huh?" he responds, taken aback. "what are you even talking about?" "these people who say we should date? does it bother you that much?" a light of understanding hits seungkwan then, and he takes a deep breath. "okay, no. that doesn't bother me at all," he says. "it makes me nervous." "why?" you ask. "because they're right and i know it," he admits. "i really should ask you out." before you can stop yourself, you reply, "then do it!" he laughs. and asks you out. and then you make out.

vernon: in my brain, vernon has not looked at his phone notifications since 2014. if he had, he'd know about the shippers. but he hasn't, so he doesn't even know...until he gets an email from pledis about it. "did you know people want us to date?" he asks you the next time you hang out. you laugh for almost five minutes straight before answering. "vernon....my company has been having a field day with those rumors. are you trying to say you literally had no idea?" "i really didn't," he promises. "why didn't you say anything to me?" "because i figured it'd work itself out or something, i guess?" "so do you not want to date?" he asks. "huh???" you reply, sure you misheard him. "i mean....i've actually been thinking about it for awhile," he says. "and, well, the people are talking. we could give 'em something to really talk about." your stomach turns over as you look into his eyes. "for real?" you ask him. "the realest," he confirms with a soft smile. and then you make out.

chan: on the opposite end of the spectrum, chan is PAINFULLY aware of the shippers. he has no idea if you've been getting the same questions he has. but he knows you're super busy getting ready for a comeback, so he doesn't bother to say anything. he figures you probably don't have time to be on social media so you won't be able to see the way people are talking about you two. and he reminds himself to keep his facial expressions in check when he sees you onstage. the problem is, it's so hard, because look at you. and when you blow a kiss at him, it turns out to be actually impossible for him not to clutch at his heart, desperately hoping that means what he wants it to mean. backstage, he catches up to you to congratulate you. "i really haven't made this easy, have i?" you tell him. "what?" he asks. "well, i left you to fend for yourself in the middle of all of everyone saying we should date." "you knew about that?" "of course i did. which is why i blew you a kiss." "so people would keep talking?" he asks. "no...to see if you liked me in the same way i like you." you stare at each other before running to embrace. and then you make out.

#seventeen #svt #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt reactions #svt fic #svt fanfic #svt x you

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bulkyphrase · 7 months ago

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Cap-IM Rec Week - Better Together Monday

Welcome to @cap-ironman Rec Week 2024! I've got some fun lists planned for this week, starting with this one, which features some of my favorite fics where, via assorted shenanigans, Steve and Tony are now sharing their thoughts, feelings, or personal space.

So basically, stories where they've been forced together into a magical "We Will Get Along" shirt.

inside my shell-shaped mind by Mizzy (@mizzy2k) (616, Teen And Up Audiences, 18,217 words)

Summary: Before Ikaris of the Eternals died along with the rest of his people, he gave Tony Stark the power of the Uni-Mind, a power Tony used in order to help stop the Horde from destroying the universe. The Magistrati are the Living Tribunal's enforcers of Universal Law. They are the judges, jurors, and advocates of the universe. And Tony’s Uni-Mind ability has been judged too dangerous: he must be put to death. Steve thinks he has a solution. To save Tony's life, he must undergo an intimate version of the Uni-Mind known as the Gann Josin, a type of bonding that creates a mental union between two people...and makes them lifelong soulmates. Well, it's probably not the oddest way to save someone's life, but it's certainly not going to be easy. Especially when Tony seems determined that the bond should be broken, as soon as possible. (Set just after War of the Realms #4.) Also available as a podfic read by Pywren (@phyrrhicvictory)

Machines and Marvels by rainbowninja167 (@rainbowtitania) (MCU, Teen And Up Audiences, 23,443 words)

Summary: "The only future in which you have a hope of defeating Thanos is one where the Avengers remain whole and undivided. Do you understand? No matter what else happens, it’s imperative that the Avengers stay together." “Wait. What the fuck are the Avengers?” Or: In an alternate timeline where the Avengers never formed, Steve and Tony need a crash course in team bonding. Stephen Strange just had to take that literally.

More below the cut!

Breathless by @kandisheek (MCU, Explicit, 36,966 words)

Summary: How do you even start a conversation like that? Hey, sorry, but last night you sort of jerked me off through our bond and now I know the serum makes you shoot off in like two seconds, oops. Wherein Tony can feel everything Steve feels and it makes things very awkward.

made to make you blue by @gottalovev (MCU, Explicit, 26,022 words)

Summary: Steve, drunk for the first time since the serum, hits on Tony. It's everything Tony's ever dreamt about, but he refuses to have sex with a drunk Steve who can't truly consent. They do kiss, though, and Tony stays the night. The morning after brings a misunderstanding of disastrous proportion, where both men wrongly assume the other is uninterested. Life gets extremely complicated when Enchantress, mad at Thor, casts a spell that links people who love each other together, letting them feel the other's pain.

read my mind by orphan_account (MCU, Explicit, 6,691 words)

Summary: A run in with Loki gives Tony the ability to read Steve's thoughts. Unbeknownst to Loki, it actually brings them closer together.

Never Too Late for Love by @sineala (Ults, Explicit, 98,060 words)

Summary: Steve has always believed that a soulbond is a blessing -- a rare and beautiful miracle, joining the thoughts and feelings of two people forever, from the first time they touch. Steve knows he's not going to be one of the lucky ones. He knows Gail isn't his soulmate. But he loves her, even if they're not soulmates, and he's going to do right by her. After the war's over, he's going to marry her, and they're going to settle down. They'll buy a house. They'll have children. He'll see his family again. Maybe Bucky will live next door. It's going to be a good life. He doesn't need a soulbond. He'll be fine without one. Then Steve wakes up sixty years in the future to find that his wonderful life has moved on without him. His family is long dead. His fiancée married his best friend. And the only purpose he has left is leading the Ultimates, a misbegotten team of superheroes with flaws too numerous to count. Steve hates everything about the future -- but most of all he detests Tony, flashy and flirtatious, who embodies everything Steve hates about a world he never wanted to live in. And, oh, yeah, Steve has a soulmate after all: Tony fucking Stark. Also available as a podfic read by Cathalinareads (@cathalinaheart)

one foot in (and one foot back) by kehinki (MCU, Explicit, 32,479 words)

Summary: This isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to Tony, but it's in the top five.

When I Think (Oh, it Terrifies Me) by celli (MCU, Explicit, 8,642 words)

Summary: Look, some mornings you wake up and little green men are invading New York City; some mornings you wake up and you can hear Captain America's voice in your head. Tony has been an Avenger long enough that he saves his freakout for important things. Also available as a podfic read by RsCreighton (@rosecreighton)

A Meeting of Minds by Nix (CrimsonQuills) (616, Explicit, 17,770 words)

Summary: As it turns out, the Extremis hadn't quite finished rewriting Tony's brain. The only potential fix has...consequences.

#stony #capimrecweek #steve rogers #tony stark #marvel fic rec

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genieofthebooks · 1 year ago

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hi!! i was wondering if you could please do a george x reader where the reader is quill kipps’ little sister and she’s a quiet bookworm and her and george go to the archives together a lot and maybe kipps finds them one day and warns george against seeing her? just some general fluff hehe thank u

Love in the Archives

Pairing: George Karim x Fem!Kipps!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Protective older brother.

The Archives was your domain, your solace from The Problem.

In a world haunted by vengeful spirits of the past, the archives was a safety blanket that you could count on to always be there. It was easy to escape reality in there like a lotus bed from mythology, if you get too wrapped up in what you are doing, time passes faster than a blink.

Escaping society and its horrible way of forcing you out of your shell. Escaping the constant worry of your older brother who despite being a twat at times could be pronounced dead during every case he went on. Especially now when you knew he was losing his talent your worry increased to the point where you started to wake of nightmares, seeing your brothers dead body being dragged out from a haunted building was the last thing anyone needed to see which is where you found yourself in the archives even more than you used to. Instead of four times a week it was now everyday and staying there when it opens and when it closes for curfew.

A few perks came from the archives apart from an escape from everything and that you did not have to talk to anyone that you didn't, was that you made one of your first friend and maybe something more, in the archives.

It was a busy day and you had been there since the morning so you had been able to snag your favourite table, tucked away yet still having access to your favourite area of the archives, reading articles about a mysterious case from the 60s.

You were startled awake by a heavy, dusty tome being dropped on your table making your cold, abandoned tea threaten to spill over the edges of your treasured mug. You went to glare at the very person disturbing your peace but your glare stopped short once you caught sight of your favourite curly haired boy. Your glare turned into a soft smile as you watched George sit down opposite you and opened the heavy book.

"Is that for a case?" You peered over the table trying to get a glance at the words in the book but it was impossible from the words being upside down. Tilting your head like a lost puppy when you couldn't figure out the words on the page.

"Yes. however, if you ask me, Lockwood should never have agreed to the case as everything I have read only makes it more concerning" George rambled on, his voice raising every so often gaining him glares from others in the archives.

"That sound like Lockwood, Then again I only know him from what you and my brother tell me" You said to George, reaching over for his hand to calm him down.

"What are you reading?" George nods to your pile of newspapers that were spread around your side of the desk, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

"Some case that has been unsolved since the sixties where the police are unsure if it was a ghost, because it was at the start of the problem or a serial killer who went round killing a bunch of people. Now people also think that maybe he was a serial killer, died, became a ghost and kept on killing innocent victims." As you were explaining your findings, George was staring at your face as he noticed that your eyes were sparkling with curiousity and exitement and at times he caught himself glancing at your lips every once in a while.

Your hand shifted a newspaper over for George to look at to show him your favourite article so far on the case but because the news paper moved George managed to get a look at a worn out romance novel that was hiding under the papers.

"What's that?" George asked curiously.

Once you realised what he was looking at you quickly shoved the worn copy into your tote bag, slightly embarrassed that he saw the book and that he saw how worn out it was making it clear that you have read it many times. "Nothing of importance"

He noticed how your eyes darted from the bag to his face, nervous about his reaction until you did something he was not expecting, you darted into the bookshelves.

Once you were out of George's eyeline you rested your head against the metal bookshelves and started questioning your entire life existance.

"That was a bit of an overreaction" George's voice called out from where he was standing staring at your overthinking. He slowly walked over to you and pulled you away from your hiding spot. You avoided his eyes but he hooked two fingers under your chin, making you look into his eyes. "I think that you freaked out over something completely different but I need to do an experiment to test my hypothesis."

Your brows furrowed at his words but before you could say anything he lifted your face closer to his lips and leaned in and kissed you gently, before you could register what was happening he pulled away but you stopped him by kissing him back and he relaxed into the kiss once he realised that his hypothesis was right, you liked him back.

George's lips were soft against yours as he gently pushed you up against the bookshelf his hands finding a place at your waist. You smiled into the kiss as it was everything that you had ever imagined and was better than anything you had read.

He pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours smiling at the small pants you were making after he literally and figuratively took your breath away.

"What on earth is going on here?"

Sorry if this wasn't any good and that it is not very long but I hope you liked it.

#lockwood and co x reader #george karim x reader #lockwood and co #x reader #george karim #quill kipps

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the-french-belphegor · 1 year ago

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Making my way (makinmawaayy) through my @critter-genfic-events bingo card, and this one's filling the "fights" slot! Or rather, "post-fight", which they told me works as well. Also it's set way before the start of the stream, when they're all more acquaintances and travelling companions than the friends and family we see later. They're already buds, though, for the most part.

Posting it on AO3 ASAP Now on AO3! Hope Tumblr doesn't hide the post from the tags! 🤞

(oh yeah, side note: I do know that concentration-based spells get dropped when you either don’t roll high enough to maintain it or when you take too much damage – like both invisibility spells do in DnD. But I liked the idea of being so concussed you don’t remember how to drop a spell :3)

—

Scrambled

Scanlan is pretty sure someone’s calling his name in the distance with a certain amount of worry. It’s okay, he thinks but doesn’t say. He’s gonna get back up any time now. He’s fine.

(Scanlan is more than fine, Scanlan is a godsdamn snack, thank you very much.)

In fact, he might even go as far as to let the word drag, let some notes slide a little: fiiiine. Four ‘i’s should about do it.

(Heh, four ‘i’s. Four eyes. That’s Percy. Where’s Percy?)

So, to recap, Scanlan is fine as hell, and he’s okay because he’s always okay, even with a headache so bad he’s pretty sure his brain is leaking out of his ears. Won’t check, though, that might be gross and his stomach isn’t doing too well either at the moment. Barfing while lying on your back? Yeah, no, bad idea. Of all the ways to die, drowning in his own puke is probably around number… sixty-eight.

Sixty-nine would be, of course, a particularly ill-advised tumble with someone with an ungodly number of teeth and a taste for blood, preferably that of a gnome with more curiosity than sense. As always with sex stuff with consenting adults, though, Scanlan isn’t willing to completely dismiss the idea.

Might be fun to try someday, who knows.

When he’s less tired.

Why’s everything swimming?

Actually asking out loud is out of the question, since for some reason his voice can’t even make it out of his throat, let alone his mouth –

(oh fuck no, if I can’t sing I’m toast, if I can’t play I’m dead, if I can’t talk we’re done)

– so at the price of an effort so bad he almost upchucks everything since the invention of breakfast Scanlan pivots his head juuuust a little to the left.

And sees nothing.

Well, no, not exactly. He sees yellowing grass, some dirt, a bit of sky. But nothing where his shoulder should be, or the rest of him.

…Oh yeah. He made himself invisible a while back. Somewhere between Tiberius’ Fireball, Vex’s arrows, and Percy’s pepperbox and its more-or-less controlled explosions. (Or maybe Percy went before him. Right before the world got very loud, very fast, and then very quiet. Somehow there’s a connection between this and that.) Dropping the invisibility looks like a really good idea, if only Scanlan could remember how. As things stand, he can barely remember to breathe. Oh, and also that the warm stickiness soaking up the back of his head and seeping into his collar is Not A Good Thing – not that there’s a lot he can do about that.

Things are rather quiet now. He must’ve missed the end of the fight.

Seriously, though, where’s Percy? Scanlan can’t hear the usual blasts and somewhere in the shattered mess that is his brain there’s a nagging inkling that it’s a bad sign. Or maybe there’s something else poking at the edges of his mind, he doesn’t know. He’s not exactly up to turning stuff over in his head at the moment. Turning his head was hard enough.

He’s just gonna… chill there for a while. Rest his eyes a little bit.

Which is why he doesn’t spot Vex running over until she drops to a crouch next to him and squashes his hand with her knee for five seconds.

Vex’ahlia is sharp eyes, sharp aim, sharp words, sharp everything. Her knees are no exception. Ow.

“Shit shit shit, fucking shitballs,” Scanlan hears her mutter under her breath as her hands find his head with uncanny precision considering she can’t see him. Her ‘t’s are beautifully defined, her vowels clear and precise. It’s a pity she sings so rarely; most performers would kill to have her diction.

“PIKE!” she yells over her shoulder. “OVER HERE!”

Pike, echoes the part of Scanlan’s mind that’s still functional. It would have been a small, pitiful yearning sound if he’d been able to speak. Thank goodness the word doesn’t pass his lips as is. It’s frankly a little scary just how the thought of her – the first in a while that doesn’t feel fractured in some way – quietens the part of him that’s not watching the proceedings with a detached interest. Pike is fun to flirt with and try to charm; she’s beautiful and radiant and strong, anyone with an appreciation for the female form can see that, so it’s not so surprising that Scanlan always feels drawn to her like a sunflower to sunshine. It’s so easy to let himself get starry-eyed over her, even if she’s so completely out of his league it bypasses sad and goes straight into funny. Scanlan probably is in love with her, a little bit, like he’s a little bit in love with everyone. Just… sometimes… sometimes when he calls her the love of his life he’s not sure he’s joking.

The nausea and the waves of blinding pain relent a little.

Pike?

No, Scanlan corrects himself, Vex, who when he manages to focus for more than a second finds his gaze and holds it. Unerringly.

Which must mean… the hour is up. The spell must be wearing off.

Huh.

“There you are,” says Vex, residual magic still shimmering in her fingers after her low-level Cure Wounds. She must really be tapped out.

There is blood in her hair and one of her feathers is bent at the stem, but the most telling cue that the fight went wrong is the brittle quality of her smile. She’s good at putting up a front, almost as good as Scanlan; insight isn’t Scanlan’s forte, let alone when his head feels like it’s just been cracked open like an egg, but sometimes seeing Vex’ahlia slice her way through life like a knife, just as sharp and just as shiny, is like staring into a warped mirror.

She’s good.

He’s better.

(Usually.)

“How’d you find me?” he croaks.

Vex draws back the hand she was using to prop herself with a couple of inches from his head. Her palm is coated with red.

“Head wounds, darling. They tend to bleed rather a lot.” She cocks her head to the side. “How did you even end up all the way here in the first place?”

Scanlan’s memories still feel like a scattered jigsaw, but at least now the pieces are right side up. What he puts together isn’t very glorious. Getting punted into a rock by a giant who only heard you and who was supposed to go down easily isn’t anything to brag about. At least he can always quip about it.

“Well,” he wheezes out with a grin that might work better without the blood in his teeth, “I got got.”

Then he remembers why the giant whirled round blindly and whacked him with his club. He’d been out of any useful magic, trying to sneak up on it with a fucking sword, of all things, because the big dumb fucknut had somehow gotten hold of—

“Shit, Percy – where’s Percy?”

Vex’s own smile gets wry and just a little shaky at the corner.

“He got got,” she says. There’s a story there, but at least Vex doesn’t look like it ended in tragedy. Instinctively Scanlan relaxes into his headache. “Don’t worry, though. Pike reached him in time and Grog and Keyleth got the giant.”

Oh. Good. Percival Freakystein von Mussels Colossal de Rolo III is one scary motherfucker with his pepperbox and his glasses and his devastating one-liners, but he’s still squishy as hell. Plus, well, he’s so young – Scanlan is fairly sure he’s twice, maybe three times older. The kid must be, what, mid-twenties tops? That’s way too young to die, especially having experienced so little of what the world has to offer. Scanlan would bet anything the stuck-up nerd has never taken anyone to bed, for the gods’ sake.

They’re all assholes, in the SHITs, sort of (except Pike, of course, and probably Keyleth too) but Scanlan likes them. If the universe suddenly decides that an asshole has to get killed today, he’d rather it be him rather than one of the others.

Still, nobody needs to know that.

“Worry, me? Please, I never worry.”

“I know you don’t, darling. I’m just updating you on what you missed while you were having a kip.”

Vex’s tone is even, her words light, and yet when Scanlan meets her gaze it’s like crossing blades. Somehow it also feels like grasping hands in reassurance and honestly it unnerves him a little. He prefers to know where they stand, and usually he does: he’ll downplay close calls and tell lewd jokes to alleviate the tension, while she’ll be sarcastic and magnificent and not call him out on his lies on the occasion she sees through them. But sometimes she reminds him that both twins are like blades, swift and sharp in more than one way, and in some of them she’s the sharpest. Gods, she’s terrifying.

He’s saved from having to retort something by the metallic rustle of ring mail over heavy cotton as Pike rushes up to him. Perspiration left traces in the dirt smudged across her face and her dark hair is mussed, whole locks coming out of her braided bun. She smells like sweat and leather and a little like wild strawberries, and she’s the most beautiful thing Scanlan’s ever seen.

Pike doesn’t lose a second with platitudes; she just gives him a very professional once-over, almost clinical in its efficiency, then cups his face with her hands with a look of intense concentration, eyes closed. The healing spell she pours into him feels so potent it’s practically an out-of-body experience. For a couple of seconds all Scanlan feels is warmth, clean and bright and fierce, and when he opens eyes he doesn’t remember closing his ears are still ringing.

Although that might be the blood loss.

Which would also neatly explain how weak he still is, especially when Pike’s face goes soft.

“You okay?” she asks quietly.

There are so many answers he could give her.

I am now – with a wink and a nod.

I want to have your babies – with a theatrical gesture that will make her laugh.

I am if you are – with his heart in a smile. (NOPE.)

“I’m always okay,” Scanlan finally says with a grin, hoping for an echo.

Which he gets, so points to him for being awesome. Pike Trickfoot should always have a reason to smile.

Vex snorts and somehow still manages to make it sound classy as hell.

“Sure. Which is why the only reason I found you at all was the random pool of blood on the ground thirty feet from where we thought you were. You’re lucky I’m a good tracker.”

“Fair, fair,” he says with a careful nod. “Although that could’ve been from some forest critter that met a grisly end.”

“Please, this much blood, and this fresh? How dumb do you think I am?”

Scanlan sits up on his elbows and counts off on his fingers. “One, that’s gross – two, ‘dumb’ is the last of things that you are and you know it all too well – three, thank you for saving my life – four, that’s still so gross, oh my gods. What’d you do, sniff out my lifeblood?!”

“It was me or Trinket,” says Vex, looking way more smug than she has any right to. “It just so happens I beat him at the game of ‘spot the invisible gnome’. You know, before he dies on us.”

“Oh no. What a loss that would be. Such a young, useful bear, too.”

“How scrambled did your brains get? I meant you, you dick.”

Her peeved expression eases just as quickly as the smugness hardened into a glare, and she smiles at Pike before straightening up and striding off toward the others. Her perfect hips swing subtly as she walks, in an unassuming way Scanlan knows from experience requires a lot of work. He’d find her so hot if she wasn’t so scary.

(Well, he does find her extremely hot, if only because she could break him with either a gesture or a word, but despite popular belief Scanlan Shorthalt isn’t that reckless. Even he can weigh the pros and cons occasionally before deciding that diving in headfirst isn’t a good idea.)

There’s a snort on his right, and his whole world is Pike again.

“I really don’t get your little war on Trinket,” she says, but there’s a twinkle in her eyes.

“When he starts landing actual hits on whatever we’re fighting or even just holding his own more than two minutes, I might reconsider. Right now he’s just a glorified pack mule.”

“He’s plenty useful. He gives the best massages, for one thing. And he’s a good boy.”

I can be a good boy, Scanlan almost retorts, but refrains at the last minute. The lie is too big to work, even as a joke, and he doesn’t like the sliver of truth behind it, like the glint of a blade. So he settles for a fake disgruntled huff and a grin.

Nothing falls off as he picks himself up with Pike’s help, so that’s good news. He just has to suppress a shiver at the congealed blood, now gone cold, that makes the top of his shirt stick to his back. His ponytail is a mess, a clump of matted hair half glued to his neck. Ugh, he hates having to wash blood out of his hair.

His usual armour is back on, though. Pike doesn’t seem to notice the shiver; the look of slight worry she gives him has a general fight-almost-gone-very-bad flavour of ‘are you okay’ to it.

“I am glad you didn’t get scrambled,” she says in a rare mix of bluntness and thoughtfulness that’s uniquely Pike. “You know, for good. I mean, you looked pretty bad there for a moment.”

“Aw, Pikey-pants,” Scanlan says in a singsong voice, “don’t tell me you were worried.”

Pike gives a half shrug, which he feels because she’s thrown one of his arms over her shoulders and is supporting some of his weight.

“Oh well, you know,” she says in an offhand voice, a little high-pitched, “a little? You’re never silent this long, and then Grog and I couldn’t find you, and then Keyleth said she heard the giant hit something with his club, and then—”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about me, okay? Never worry about me.” He smiles, big and toothy, to counter the frown she gets sometimes when he says things like that. “I mean, there’s really no need. I’m awesome! I’m Burt Reynolds!”

This at least gets a smile with the hint of a smirk. Still sweet, though, because Pike could make (and has made) even the bluntest blow feel sweet.

“Esquire.”

Scanlan nods carefully, mock-serious. “Right, right, ‘Esquire’.”

“Shouldn’t forget that bit.”

“No, I should not.”

She smiles at him, sharp but warm, and there it is again – the sudden urge to say something stupid, make a joke, deflect, like raised hackles, because what if she gets the true measure of him? (‘And doesn’t like what she sees’ goes without saying. There’s a reason Scanlan spent the last couple of decades carefully building himself up.)

Being a charismatic bastard means sometimes you can afford to coast on charm alone. He grins and changes the subject, as swift and dextrous as a knife in Vax’s hand, and that’s it. Matters closed.

Honestly, he’d have to be a lot more scrambled than that for it not to work.

“No, Grog, there’s already a troll dick in the bag of holding, we’re not keeping a giant dick as well!”

…Plus there’s always the next distraction. That works, too.

—

(until it doesn’t, but he doesn’t know that yet!)

I started writing this on a whim and then couldn’t decide who I wanted to find Scanlan between Vex, Vax and Pike – so I decided to sort it out with a d20, set the DC at 20 (“hard”, because he’s invisible) and roll a perception check for each member of VM using their proficiencies at level 10 (the earliest character sheets of theirs Critrolestats have). Both Pike and Grog rolled a natural 1 :’( Keyleth and Percy got a 9, and even with +10 and +7 respectively for perception they failed the check; Vax got 26 (rolled a 16 with +10 perception) and then Vex got the same number but by rolling a nat 20! Plus her passive perception is 22, so that makes sense. And she was top of my list anyway, so ^^

(I spun the whump wheel a couple of times, thinking I’d get a good handful of prompts for some short snippets (like <1k words) and then happened on “concussion” and. Well. Someone clearly had a lot of thoughts about that one...)

#critical role #vox machina #scanlan shorthalt #vex'ahlia #pike trickfoot #pikelan #(sorta)#critter genfic bingo #fanfiction

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yaut-jaknowit · 1 year ago

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I did know we could ask about your OCs! I would love to know more about Gawtin 🥺🥺🥺 is there any headcanons or backstory you can share that won’t come up in one shots 👀

Did people not know this?! Of course anyone can ask about my characters. Actually, I encourage it! Make me write more about them. Make me get up and actually use my brain to figure out their stories.

I already have some information about Gawtin written. I use this wonderful app called Campfire to help keep my stories in order. Specially The Monarch.

Alrighty *cracks knuckles* Buckle up, I've got some history for our loving Yautja.

Her full name is Gawtin Yot Vernt-oilq. She's left handed and prefers to use a crossbow for her main weapon. Though, you don't get to see her fight often since she stays home. But, when hunting for food, she'll bring it out.

Positive Values: Loyalty, self-control, determination, persistence.

Negative Values: meanness, abrasiveness, upfront, unnmercifulness.

Very Confident. Like, how could she not be. This is Gawtin we're talking about.

She's more in the middle for extrovert-ness and introvert-ness. Like, she's not a hermit but won't put herself out. If she's invited to go somewhere, she'll join you. Only leans slightly towards extrovert but still closer to the middle for those two.

She comes in at a whomping five hundred and seventeen pounds without any armor or clothing. It helps when she's 8'8, easily towering over any human she comes into contact with.

As for her tribe/clan, she's part of the War-ak'ox. Don't ask me how to say that because even I don't know. Before I forget, I pronounce her name like Guh-jaun-tin. It is a made up name so, the way you say doesn't matter to me.

We all know she has her current child Qui-oki that you helped slightly through the pregnancy. She's also has sixty-seven children throughout her life. I would probably say about half are still alive. A high number for Yautjas.

Her mother's name is Mother Ma'tan-Aih. She was part of the council of the tribe. Gawtin didn't follow her steps but is still thought as a high member of the tribe due to her mother (who is still alive).

As for her age, she's four hundred and seventy-nine years old. About middle life for a Yautjas life span if they're not killed. She knows you won't grow old with her but she'll have to watch as you wither away. She prefers quality time for a reason, prepared for the day you leave her to join Cetanu. But she'll do everything in her power to increase your life span, even if it's for a day.

That's all the information I have written down for her. I have more about her than the boys combined. If you or anyone has any questions about any of my OCs, please, please shoot a DM. I love talking about them. I also love that you guys enjoy them maybe more than I do!

If there any grammar mistakes, please ignore. I just typed this up in the middle of the night and I'm too tired to check. Plus, words get mixed up in my head. You all have probably realized this by now... and English is my native and only language. Ugh...

#yautja #predator #Gawtin #talking about Gawtin #I love talking about her #If I remember #she's my first oc that I posted here #I love gawtin so much

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schmem14 · 2 years ago

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5 Underrated HP Ships (+ Recs!)

@lumosatnight thanks for the tag! I love this! Read Lani’s list HERE

1. Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin

I know what you’re thinking, didn’t Remus make this mistake with Tonks already? And what about Sirius?? (I HC Wolfstar for sure) BUT If Remus were attracted to women, I think that this age gap ship makes more sense than Remadora. I think it has a lovely, erudite feel to it. Hermione needs someone who will challenge her, and Remus needs someone to ground him when he gets insecure (as we know he does.)

Recs:

Those Who Can, Teach by @inlovewithforever (E, 12.4 k) Sixty Minutes by @mightbewriting (E, 5.4 k)

2. Draco Malfoy/Neville Longbottom

This is such a NICHE ship that embodies one of my favourite dynamics--the Slytherin/Hufflepuff relationship. I know Neville is not a Hufflepuff, but he has a lot of those personality traits. He’s soft, thoughtful, and quietly assertive. He’s a good-natured teddy bear who won’t necessarily let you walk all over him but is honest and forgiving in the purest way. Enter post-War Draco, made surly and self-deprecating by his downfall. He’s jagged around the edges, unwilling to accept love willingly. He just needs someone to coax him out of his prickly shell.

Recs:

The Ugly Duckling and the Peacock by @vukovich (E, 12.3 k) All This and Heaven, Too by meansgirl (E, 103.7 k)

3. Pansy Parkinson/Percy Weasley

A HOT combination. I almost don’t know how to describe these two. Neither get a lot of love in canon because they’re both intense people in unpleasant ways, but when they’re older and a bit wiser, these traits make them the ultimate power couple. Pansy likes to get under Percy’s skin, and Percy loves playing mind games. These two are also the ones I most picture having a forbidden romance (yes, there’s a rec for that!) Also, Percy is totally a Slytherin in lion’s clothing. That was an incorrect house placement for sure.

Mile End by @pacific-rimbaud (E, 8.3 k) The Secretary by @pacific-rimbaud (E, 45.9 k)

4. Pansy Parkinson/Luna Lovegood

This ship took me by surprise during the Rare Pair Fest last year, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. I see Pansy as someone who is boxed in by expectations, repressed pain, and fear. Luna is the opposite. She’s free-spirited, otherworldly, and she feels everything with her whole soul open to it. It’s a beautiful pairing with lots of healing potential.

Landlocked, Oceanbound by @nanneramma (T, 7.4 k)

5. Draco Malfoy/Ronald Weasley

Don’t slam the breaks just yet, and hear me out. These two are so dynamic that this ship could go ANY WAY YOU WANT. Throw Harry in there, and you have some peak tension and jealousy and love triangle perfection. Maybe a humbled Draco finding that Ron is actually quite lovely? Or, Draco composing an entire song titled Weasley is our King (the Drarry obsession potential could indeed to extended to include Ron)? Or, forced proximity homoerotic hate fest? OMG, I am all in. Bisexual Ron is one of my new favourite HC’s, so I’m adding as a sub-pairing that Draco/Ron/Hermione is surprisingly delicious. I read this one brilliant fic and then sobbed because I want MOAR of them and it doesn’t exist.

A Weasel in the Hamptons (has a sequel!) by @peachpety (E, 15.4 k) The Evergreen Game (this is THE Draco/Ron/Hermione that made me go feral) by imaginarium_imperfecta (E, 57.2 k)

Tagging @vukovich, @nanneramma, @the-francakes, @mugsdontlie, @holygnocchi, @broomsticks to do your own list if you’re feeling inspired <3

#tag game #underrated ships #rec list #rare pairs

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anonymousewrites · 1 year ago

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Portal to My Heart (Book 3) Chapter One

Loki x Reader

Chapter One: To the TVA

Summary: (Y/N) and Loki arrive at the TVA, but their bodies keep distorting.

Mouse Note: Welcome back to Portal to My Heart! I know I've been looking forward to sharing this story for a long time, ever since the first episode of LOKI Season 2 came out. I know that for me this is going to be emotional since I love Loki and have been a fan of his character since I discovered Marvel. I am very happy with how this story turned out, and I'm so excited to show you all. So, please enjoy and comment your thoughts so I can interact and freak out with fellow fans (it also makes me want to keep posting haha). And thank you all for supporting me so far. You're the best and make writing worth it!

Previously…

(Y/N) landed roughly next to where Loki was sitting, disheartened, in a TVA interrogation room. She cried out as her wound ached from hitting the ground.

“(Y/N)!” Loki’s eyes widened in horror, and he rushed to her side, holding her tight against him. “Gods…did Sylvie do this to you?”

“It was an accident,” coughed (Y/N). “But shit, it hurts.”

“Someone!” cried Loki. “I need someone!” Cursing as no one came in, he lifted (Y/N) up and set out in search of help. “Keep your eyes open, everything’s going to be all right.” Loki brightened in relief as he saw Mobius, free of any bonds, speaking hurriedly to B-15.

“Sixty-three new branches in this unit alone? Does he want us to just them all branch?” said Mobius to B-15.

“Mobius!” shouted Loki, slowing to a stop. “We made a terrible mistake, and now everything’s gone wrong and (Y/N)’s hurt!”

“What?” asked Mobius. His eyes widened as he saw the bleeding woman in Loki’s arms.

“Freed the timeline, found the bastard, war…need to prepare…” murmured (Y/N), dizzy from blood loss.

“I don’t know what happened to you analysts—” (Y/N) and Loki looked at him in confusion and alarm “—but we need to you to a medic, now!” Mobius flipped open his Tempad and called medics. “Now, who are you guys?”

“What…?” breathed Loki.

“We need boots on the ground, stat,” said B-15.

Loki just sank to floor and held (Y/N) close as he realized they had really messed up. They could both see the statue looming over them on the elevator, not of the Time-Keepers, but of He-Who-Remains. Everything had gone wrong, and now they were in an even bigger mess. Loki took a deep, shuddering breath as he waited for the medics to arrive.

“Please don’t leave me…” he whispered. “I need you here. You were right about everything. Please stay.” “It’s a pity she won’t live as long as you.” Loki’s heart clenched at the reminder of (Y/N)’s mortality. “You can’t die today, (Y/N). You can’t…because I love you.”

“Hey, we’ve got a medic!” called Mobius, running back towards Loki with B-15 and a medic at his side.

Loki stood and picked up (Y/N). No, no, he needed to protect them. This Mobius didn’t know them. If this was some other reality or something, he couldn’t trust them to heal her. He needed to escape, get somewhere where he could help (Y/N) and make sure they recovered.

“Hey, where are you going?” asked Mobius.

B-15’s eyes narrowed, and she glared at them. “They’re not analysts. They’re variants.”

That settled it. Loki ran, holding (Y/N) tightly to him.

“Wait!” shouted Mobius, running after him.

Loki ignored him and ran. B-15 ran in front of him with Minutemen behind her.

“Hold it right there, Variant!” shouted B-15.

“Mobius, it’s me. I’m not a variant. Well, I am, a little, but we’re friends, we know each other,” pleaded Loki.

“I don’t know you,” said Mobius. Around Loki, the Minutemen grabbed their pruning sticks.

Loki did the only thing he could and threw himself out the window. He held (Y/N) tight as they fell and wished that he had his magic to make sure they were protected. They hit a truck hard, and Loki and (Y/N) groaned. His heart jumped in his chest. They were barely responsive, but they were still there.

Maybe…Maybe their abilities will let them survive. Loki dearly wished that was true, but even if it was, in the TVA, there was no magic. There was no way for them to survive even if there was a chance.

The driver screamed and panicked upon seeing them. The truck hit the side of a building, crashing through a window. Loki and (Y/N) were thrown from the back of the truck, and Loki tucked (Y/N) into his chest so he hit the ground harder than them.

Loki grunted and stood up, holding (Y/N) up. They were struggling to keep their eyes open. It was clear that they had no idea what was happening as their blood loss got to their head. It was partly a relief since that meant his confession wouldn’t be remembered. Loki had spoken in the that of the moment, but now was not the time to be dealing with that, as much as he wanted to. (Also, Loki was awkward and a bit nervous).

“We’re fine. We’re fine,” muttered Loki as TVA workers stared at them. Behind him, the truck tipped back out the window. Everyone watched in horror as it fell to the ground below and landed with an echoing crash. Loki coughed. “She’ll be fine.”

The TVA timeline display landed on the ground and cracked it. The people gasped. Loki panted in exhaustion and looked down at (Y/N)’s nearly unconscious form.

“Level five intruders,” announced the PA system. “They’ve hopped into a mail cart and descended to the lower level.”

“Casey,” breathed Loki in relief as one man drew closer.

“Have we met each other?” asked Casey in confusion.

“Casey, help us. Please, tell me you know what’s going on,” said Loki. “Don’t you remember us?”

“I got them! I got the intruders!” said Casey nervously into his communicator. “I got the intruders!”

Loki’s eyes widened, and he backed up worriedly. And then his entire body distorted. (Y/N) groaned and winced as her already exhausted body glitched alongside him.

They disappeared from the room with Casey and reappeared in another room of the TVA. Loki looked around himself in confused and checked on (Y/N), making sure nothing bad had happened to her when they distorted. To his dismay, it was clear the energy going to keeping her alive was getting exhausted by the glitching.

“Loki. (Y/N).”

Loki looked up in relief to find himself in the same room, just decorated differently, and Casey looking down at them.

“What? Just a second ago, you didn’t know us,” said Loki in confusion. “Casey. Casey. Casey, something terrible is happening.” He pulled (Y/N) closer. “Please.” He trailed off when he noticed a crack on the floor from where he had just seen the TV display fall. Only now it was hanging up again. “Has…Has that always been there?”

“The crack? It’s been there as long as I can remember,” said Casey.

Was it possible that time had passed? When Loki and (Y/N) glitched? But that was impossible. And yet…

“We were in the past,” breathed Loki in realization. He shook his head. “No, no, it doesn’t matter now. Please, Casey. (Y/N) needs help.”

Casey nodded shakily and ran to call someone.

Loki sank to his knees in relief and held them close. “Don’t worry, darling. You’ll be alright. I’ve got you.” Before he could rest, though, they distorted again.

They landed in front of Casey, and Loki stumbled, holding (Y/N). He nearly cursed but just looked to Casey. “Casey, where is Mobius?”

“He’s…in the War Room,” said Casey, staring at Loki and (Y/N), bloody and tired.

Loki stumbled to the War Room and kicked the door open. No one was in there, and he groaned. In his arms, (Y/N)’s heads lolled and hit his chest. Her consciousness was completely gone. That meant her life was really in danger. He needed to find Mobius.

Loki stared at the carvings of He Who Remains on the wall of the War Room and felt anger course through him. HWR was still haunting him.

And then he and (Y/N) glitched, and he nearly collapsed as he appeared back in the War Room. This time, Mobius, B-15, and several other TVA members were staring at them. He grunted in pain.

“Loki? (Y/N)?” said Mobius, eyes widening as he saw their states.

“Mobius! You know us!” cried Loki.

“Where the hell were you two?” asked Mobius worriedly.

“Help us,” said Loki, pulling (Y/N)’s body closer to him. “Please. A moment ago, you didn’t know us. Tell me you know who we are.” Behind them, a Minuteman went to attack, and B-15 blocked him.

“Yes, yes,” assured Mobius.

“Everyone, stand down!” shouted the general of the TVA, Dox.

“Please, Mobius, we found him, but (Y/N)’s hurt, and we keep disappearing, please, she’s dying, please help her—” Loki’s rambles continued.

“Hey, hey, who did you find?” asked Mobius in confusion.

“Him.” Loki looked at the wall where the carvings of HWR had been a moment before. He handed (Y/N) to Mobius, who was startled but held them, and grabbed the pruning stick from the Minuteman.

“Loki?” asked Mobius, glancing down in horror at (Y/N)’s bleeding stab wound.

“Get back!” said Loki when the hunter tried to attack. Then, he stabbed the stick into the wall, and the mosaic of the false Time-Keepers burned away to reveal HWR’s face carved into the wall. The truth of the TVA hidden just beneath the surface. “That’s who built this place!” shouted Loki. “That’s who stole your lives! That’s who’s coming back!” He stared at Mobius pleadingly. “Now, please, get (Y/N) help. Please.”

“She’s going to be okay. The medics say the wound will scar, but otherwise, she’ll be alright,” said Mobius as Loki hovered at (Y/N)’s bedside.

She still looked so still. Loki didn’t want to leave (Y/N) for a moment. He needed to watch over her, protect her, succeed where he’d failed.

“Loki. We need to talk about what happened,” said Mobius.

“I need to make sure she’s alright,” said Loki fiercely.

“Okay, okay,” said Mobius. He sat down next to Loki. “We’ll talk here. That way you know how she’s doing.”

Loki nodded shakily. “Right. Right.”

“So what happened? The last thing I knew, you guys were going to face the cloud monster,” said Mobius in concern.

“Alioth?” said Loki. He shook his head. “Alioth was a distraction. He was a guard dog. We found him. A Citadel at the End of Time.”

“But where’s Sylvie?” asked Mobius.

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. She’s still there. She…She stabbed (Y/N) trying to kill He Who Remains. She’s the reason she’s like this right now…We just wanted time to think, and Sylvie wouldn’t just stop, and now (Y/N)’s…” Loki was spiraling, and he slumped over. “It was an impossible choice, but she seemed so certain. How could she be given the circumstances?”

“Okay, okay, slow down, Loki,” said Mobius calmingly. “You wanted time to think, so let’s think.”

Loki took a deep breath and looked at Mobius. “Mobius, we got the man at the End of Time, and he made sense. We thought it was about freeing the Timeline, but that brings only more malevolence, more violence, more war. More of him. They’re coming. They’re all coming. ‘You came to kill the devil.’ ”

“I don’t understand,” said Mobius.

“Maybe he was,” murmured Loki. “But maybe he wasn’t. Sylvie was convinced he was. We fought, Mobius. She kicked me through a Time Door, and she and (Y/N) fought, and (Y/N) got hurt, and then Sylvie kicked her through, and…”

“Well, I’d ask who won…” remarked Mobius.

Loki huffed. “It was a draw.”

“You all kicked each other through Time Doors simultaneously?” said Mobius.

“No. (Y/N) and I were actively trying not to fight her,” said Loki. “That’s why (Y/N) was hurt…” He looked at her and reached out to her. He drew his hand back awkwardly. “She was trying to stop Sylvie. She was trying to kill him.”

“Stop, relax,” said Mobius. “(Y/N) is going to be fine. She’s alright. Look, just calm down.”

“I just wish I had tried harder,” said Loki ruefully. “I wish we’d had more time.”

“Don’t do the coudlda-woulda-shoulda. Focus on what we know,” said Mobius.

“War is on its way,” said Loki. “That’s what we know. I have no idea if he was right about everything because his variants are on their way! It was about preventing more of them! There was no simple choice, no other way.”

“That’s who you showed us in the War Room?” asked Mobius.

“He Who Remains,” said Loki, nodding. “This is his kingdom. And he says he keeps us safe, but how can you believe that? He built this place.”

“No, how would I not remember that,” said Mobius. “How could he—”

“He wiped your memories.”

Loki’s head whipped to the cot where (Y/N)’s eyes were open and she was trying to sit up. Instantly, Loki was by her side and supported her. In relief, he saw that the wound was healing well due to the TVA’s technology.

“You’re alright,” said Loki.

(Y/N) smiled at him and covered his hand with her own as he helped her. “Of course. A stab isn’t going to keep me down.”

“We’re glad you’re okay,” said Mobius, smiling.

“Thanks,” she said, nodding. She frowned. “But what happened? Last thing I remember was falling through the Time door…”

Loki stared at her. She didn’t remember. (Y/N) couldn’t recall his confession of love. The injury had been too much, and she had no idea what had happened. Part of Loki was disappointed since he couldn’t get her response, but the other part of him was thankful. He had no idea how to tell her again, how to deal with everything. (Y/N) was the person he loved, and he wasn’t sure how to tell her again, and with all the chaos going on, Loki was afraid of adding more to it.

But he wanted to tell her. So, so badly.

(Y/N) frowned and touched her chest. “And it felt like I was coming apart at the seams.”

“We, uh, glitched?” said Loki. “I’m not entirely sure, either.”

“Is that how you appeared in the War Room?” said Mobius in confusion.

“Yes,” said Loki. “Well, partly. We were in the past.”

“Don’t you mean the End of Time?” said Mobius.

“No, we were in the War Room already,” said Loki.

Mobius looked at (Y/N) in confusion, and she shrugged. “I believe Loki, but I was way too out of it to know what was happening.”

Loki was once again torn from disappointment that he still didn’t know how she felt and relief that the chaos of feelings wasn’t involved in the difficult situation developing.

“We were in the past,” reiterated Loki, shaking himself from his thoughts and looking at Mobius.

“What do you mean in the past? Where?” said Mobius in confusion.

“Here, in the TVA,” said Loki.

“No, there is no past TVA,” said Mobius, shaking his head. “Time doesn’t work like that here.”

“It does, it’s happening to us,” said Loki.

“It’s impossible,” said Mobius.

“It’s possible,” said Loki.

“No, it’s not,” said Mobius.

As if on cue, Loki and (Y/N)’s bodies distorted and came back together. They disappeared from the room, appeared in the same one but empty, and then popped out of existence again, reappearing in front of Mobius. (Y/N) groaned at the sensation. It was painful, but at least she wasn’t bleeding out.

How skewed are my priorities that my cells rearranging is preferable to a stab wound? thought (Y/N). “See that? I think that confirms Loki’s story,” she muttered.

“Uh, yeah, I saw it,” said Mobius.

“Yeah? What does it…What does it look like?” asked Loki.

“It looks…” Mobius grimaced. “I mean, how does it feel?”

“It’s not that bad,” said Loki, lying.

“I think my cells are getting spliced,” muttered (Y/N), brutally honest as ever.

“I think (Y/N)’s assessment is better than yours,” said Mobius, looking between (Y/N) and Loki. “And we definitely need to get you help. Let me call Miss Minutes.”

“No,” said (Y/N) and Loki sharply.

“What?” asked Mobius.

“You can’t trust her,” said (Y/N).

“Are you sure?” said Mobius.

“Pretty sure,” said (Y/N). “She was there with him at the End of Time.”

“We still need to get your guys checked out,” said Mobius. “Yeah, let’s swing you by Repairs and Advancement. Come on.”

“(Y/N) needs to rest,” said Loki instantly.

“I’m fine,” said (Y/N), standing. “The tech did enough; it was just blood loss.”

Loki hovered nervously. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Loki,” said (Y/N), glancing at him with a fond smile. She looked down at her torn shirt from the stab wound. “But, uh, I do want a new shirt.”

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sequinsmile-x · 1 year ago

Text

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Sixty One

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends,

As ever, thank you so so much for your love on this fic. It means so much.

Sorry for the small delay on this chapter, real life is truly kicking me in the butt at the moment and I didn't have the mental energy to give SGW the love and attention it deserves until now! (I cannot express how complicated a fic gets when you get to 60+ chapters. I have timeline documents and everything haha)

I really hope you like this one, and please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He was furious.

The anger had taken residence under his skin, squirming and shifting in a way that made him itch. The feeling had taken residence the morning after the incident with the bomb. He’d woken up like he usually did when he was home - Emily pressed up against him, her mouth open as she still slept soundly, none of the stress of the previous day anywhere to be seen. As she shifted in his embrace, moving impossibly closer, the anger had set it, fueled by the knowledge of how close he came to losing this, to losing her.

He was angry that it happened in the first place, that the ego of one man could have lost him the love of his life. He was angry that he was just expected to carry on, to move forward like it happened at all. Most of all, he was angry that nothing had been done about it yet. That Carson was suspended pending an investigation he knew would take far too long for his liking to be solved or, at worst, swept under the rug.

He’d had nightmares about it ever since, his subconscious spitting out images of the building exploding with her still in it, of her funeral. Clear-cut pictures in his mind of Lily wearing a tiny black dress as she sat on his hip, confused about where her mother was as she clung to his jacket. It was better when he was at home. He’d wake up with Emily next to him, or half on top of him, an immediate reassurance that everything was okay - that she was still right there with him. When he was away on a case it was worse, the cold empty sheets next to him doing nothing to salve his panic. More than once he’d found himself reaching for his phone, about to call her, when he would stop with his finger hovering over her name. He didn’t want to put this on her too, didn’t want to make her have to look after him when it was her who had come so close to losing her life.

In the four weeks that had passed since the incident, Emily had been off work. Strauss had insisted, claiming that she needed to work through what had happened. She also said it would be best that she wasn’t at work whilst the investigation was ongoing, so more fractures didn’t appear in the counterterrorism team. It had already split right down the middle, half the team on her side, furious that Carson had put her in that position, and the other half convinced that the only reason the investigation was happening was because of who her husband was.

What had surprised him more than anything, was Emily’s complete lack of resistance to the order. She hadn’t fought it, hadn’t even said a bad word about Strauss and her decision to him in the safety of their own home. Instead, she’d taken it in her stride, taking in every extra minute with Lily and Jack when he was with them. Aaron knew he needed to talk to her about it, to help her figure out what she wanted to do next, but she was hesitant, avoiding the conversation at every turn.

He clenches his teeth as he knocks on the door in front of him and steps into the office, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Agent Hotchner,” Strauss says without looking up from her paperwork, “Is it that time of day already?”

He knew he was pushing his luck on some level. He had to come to see her every day since the bomb scare. Fury and a desperation to get justice for his wife, for his family, swirling in his gut. It made him feel permanently nauseous. The others were giving him a wide berth, Derek and Dave only half joking when they said he was in a worse mood than usual.

“The committee hasn’t even set a date yet.”

Strauss sighs and places her pen down, finally looking up at him as she folds her hands together on top of her desk, “As I have already told you, these things take time. If Carson returns it won’t be until after the investigation has been finished.”

His hands form fists at his sides as he thinks about the other man not facing any consequences for his carelessness, “He should be fired,” he says before he can think about it, and Strauss raises an eyebrow at him and he clears his throat, “Ma’am.”

She stares at him for a moment and he thinks he’s going to be reprimanded, but instead, she smiles softly at him, “Why don’t you go home early, see your family. It might make you feel better.”

A part of him wants to argue with her, but the part of him that wants to see Emily and the kids as soon as possible wins out, “I think I might do that. Lily is teething and she’s started to crawl, so there isn’t a huge amount of time to relax right now.”

She chuckles and nods politely, and he takes it as his cue to leave. He’s already turned around when she speaks again, “See you at the same time tomorrow, Aaron.”

He looks at her and sees what he thinks is an edge of an amused smile on her face, something he’d never seen before and he clears his throat, “Yes ma’am.”

He leaves the office without saying goodbye to the rest of the team, desperate to get home and feel the peace he knew would wash over him the moment he stepped through the door.

___

He was in a daze.

Everything around him was happening in slow motion, the sound muffled as if he were underwater. People’s well-meaning sympathies and kind words not registering as he marched slowly behind the coffin just a few paces ahead of him.

She was dead.

Lily fusses in his embrace and he shushes her, rubbing his hand up and down the baby’s back as she presses her face into his neck, unsure about all the strangers around them. She was warm against him, the cool spring air around them a cruel reminder of new beginnings when everything had just come to an end. He can feel Elizabeth’s gaze burning into his back, her disapproval of him bringing Lily to the funeral at all clear. He’s sure he’d care more about her opinion if this weren’t the first time she’d ever laid eyes on her granddaughter.

“I’ve got you Lilypad,” he says softly, keeping his voice low so no one around hears him, “Daddy’s here.”

He feels a small hand clasp the one that isn’t holding Lily and he looks down to see Jack clutching his hand, sadness and confusion shining in his eyes. Aaron looks over his shoulder to see Haley just behind him, her smile sad and an attempt to be encouraging as their eyes meet. They come to a stop near a hole in the ground, cold and dark and where the woman he loves will be forever.

She was dead.

His eyes linger on the plaque on the coffin, gold and bright and oddly beautiful given what was happening.

He had always said she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

He reaches forward, unable to stop himself as he disconnects his hand from his son’s and traces the engraving on the plaque, the final time he’d ever touch her.

Emily Hotchner

October 12th 1970 - March 7th 2011

___

He wakes up with a gasp, choking on a breath as it catches in his chest, tears splashing down onto his cheeks as he sits up.

He looks at the alarm on his nightstand, 2.23 am and the date, March 7th, staring back at him. The date in the dreams always changed, a cruel trick from his brain to make it worse than it already was. As if it wasn’t already visceral enough, as if he couldn’t feel the cold spring breeze on his neck even though he was in his warm bedroom.

He places his hand on Emily’s side of the bed, to feel the warmth of her skin, but all he finds are cool sheets and his heart stops, his breath caught in his chest again as he climbs out of bed, almost tripping over the sheets tangled around his legs.

“Emily?” He calls out, tearing the door open, walking straight into her as he steps out into the hall.

“Where are you off to in a hurry?” She chuckles her hands on his hips as she steadies herself, “The kids are sleeping and if you wake Lily up after I just got her back to…” she trails off she she looks up at his face, her smile fading as she sees the wild look in his eyes, the tension in his jaw as he stares at her. She cups his cheek, “Honey? Are you okay?”

He nods and clears his throat, embarrassment replacing the fear that had been coursing through him just seconds ago as he tries to step back into the bedroom, “I’m fine, sorry I was just-”

“Oh I don’t think so,” she says, grabbing his wrist and stopping him from going any further, “You aren’t getting out of this that easily,” she stares at him, her eyes boring into his, and she knows he could easily get out of her grip, that he could use his strength against her, but he never did. Not unless she asked him to. He sighs and nods, a movement so subtle she would have missed it if she wasn’t looking at him so intently, and she squeezes his wrist before she shifts her hold on him, her palm pressing into his as she links their fingers together, “Let’s go downstairs though, I wasn’t kidding about how long it took to get Lily back to sleep.”

He lets her lead him towards the stairs and he looks at his daughter’s nursery, images of her in his dream, scared and pressed up against him flashing through his mind, “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” Emily assures him as they walk down the stairs, “She’s just teething,” she says, smiling at him as they head towards the kitchen, “And of course, as soon I go in there she thinks it’s playtime or something,” they both exchange a small smile as they think of the 8-month-old and how she had everyone wrapped around her finger, “I fed her though and she drifted off to sleep,” she scrunches her nose up as she finally releases his hand when they get to the kitchen and she walks to the pantry, “The more teeth she gets the less enjoyable breastfeeding gets, and it wasn’t even that enjoyable to begin with.”

He hums sympathetically as he sits on one of the stools, eager to put off the conversation they came downstairs for as long as possible as he watches her start to prepare hot chocolates, a sign she had some idea what was going on anyway.

“Do you think you’ll start to wean her soon?”

Emily shrugs as she places mugs of water into the microwave, “Maybe,” she crosses her arms over her chest, “Probably. I’d like the freedom of having my body back to myself for the first time since I got pregnant,” she smiles softly, “Especially if we start trying for another one once she’s past her first birthday. But I think I’d miss it. It’s something just for the two of us.”

“That’s perfectly normal sweetheart,” he assures her as she takes the mugs back out of the microwave and places them on the counter to add the hot chocolate powder, “You’ll do the right thing for both of you, you always do.”

She smiles at him before she looks down at what she’s doing, dumping more marshmallows than they’d ever allow Jack into each mug, “So, are you going to tell me what your nightmare was about, or are we just going to stand here and talk about breastfeeding?”

He sighs and clasps his hands together in front of him, cursing how well she knows him, that she can see through any attempt he puts up to protect himself, “Em-”

“Don’t try and tell me that’s not what it was,” she says, placing his mug in front of him before she jumps up to sit on the counter, her feet pressing into his thigh for balance, “I’ve seen that look in your eyes before. I know you had a nightmare,” she stares at him as he stares at his lap, his hand absentmindedly running up and down her calf, “Why won’t you tell me?”

He closes his eyes and blows out a breath before he looks up at her, affection and concern swimming in her dark eyes, and he presses his lips together as he tries to think of a way to explain it to her, “I don’t want to upset you.”

She furrows her brows, “Honey,” she says, reaching out and pushing his hair back from his forehead, “It won’t upset me. What upsets me is you dealing with whatever this is by yourself. We don’t keep things from each other. ”

He knows she’s right, that he should have told her weeks ago, but he hadn’t wanted to burden her, something that felt more and more absurd the longer he sat there. She grounded him. The smell of the sweet hot chocolate in the air, the press of her always freezing cold feet against his thigh through his sweats, the warmth of her love wrapped around him like a blanket.

“I…I keep dreaming about your funeral,” he says, hating how her eyes widen slightly, unable to control her reaction in the middle of the night like she would be able to in the day. “Ever since…”

He drifts off but he doesn’t have to say it, she already knows. She sighs and chews the inside of her cheek, “You’ve been dreaming about this for a month?”

He nods, clearing his throat in an attempt to clear the emotion clogging it, “Yes. Variations of the same thing. I’m at your funeral, I’ve got Lily and Jack with me. I didn’t save you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asks, a spark of irritation that he’d kept this from her going off in her gut before it’s extinguished by concern for him.

“I didn’t want to burden you with it, sweetheart,” he says, “I’ll get past it eventually. You’re the one who…this happened to you, not me.”

“It happened to both of us,” she says firmly, reaching for his hand and encouraging him to stand up. She pulls him towards her as he does, wrapping her legs around his waist to hold him in place, she smiles softly as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, their chests pressed together as she looks up, “I still have nightmares sometimes about what Foyet did and that was almost two years ago. Do you think I should ‘get past it’?”

He frowns at her, his grip on her tightening and he shakes his head, “Of course not.”

She raises her eyebrow at him as she cups his cheek, her thumb scratching against his barely there stubble he’d shave away in the morning, “Then why should you with this?”

He closes his eyes and nods, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers, “You’re right.”

“I’m your wife,” she says softly, stamping her lips against his, “I’m always right,” she adds and they both chuckle before she pulls back, turning serious again as their eyes meet, “I’m sorry I didn’t think about how this would be affecting you.”

“Oh, Em, no-”

“I don’t think I would have had the strength to walk away like you did when you had to,” she says, her eyes shining with tears she would not shed, “And I’m sorry I asked that of you. But…I love you for loving our little girl enough to do it. When I thought…” she clears her throat and shakes her head, looking up at the ceiling so she doesn’t cry, “When I thought I was going to die in there, the only comfort I had was knowing Lily would still have you.”

He pulls her closer so her head is resting against his shoulder, his hand running up and down her back as he breathes her in, “She still has both of us.”

She nods against him, “Yeah,” she says, the lingering guilt she’d felt every day since she’d survived turning in her gut. She could have left her daughter without a mother, the very thing she’d told herself she’d never do, “She does,” she tilts her head to look at him, “Want to go snuggle on the couch and watch reality TV whilst we have our hot chocolates?”

He raises an eyebrow at her, “Do I have a choice?”

She playfully rolls her eyes at him, knowing the conversation isn’t over, but that it is on pause for now, “Don’t act like you don’t love it,” she says as she gently pushes him back so she can get down off the counter, “We both know you’re the one who records those shows on the DVR when you’re away on a case.”

He wraps his arm around her as they walk to the living room each with a mug in hand, “And as we have agreed, that information never leaves this house otherwise I’ll tell Derek about the time you queued at ComicCon to meet Kurt Vonnegut.”

She turns her head to press a kiss to his shoulder, “Don’t worry, honey. Your secret is safe with me.”

-x-

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