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pvnkfaerie · 2 years ago

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In Another Life

Lmao because i am the human i am, YES YES I HAD SONG HELP and like… you’ll see, it’s really just the one or two lines but

Uhhhhh I guess this is only really angst if u read my last part ‘All The Right Moves’ bc then you understand theeeeeeeeee uh… significance of the title and like… who’s line is who saying what YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN you don’t but you’ll see. I recommend reading or rereading the first part before this bc then you’ll have ‘WAIT’ moments but like. Don’t worry about it either. Standalone but like. Not really a standalone. But it can be. But it won’t have as much meaning. So. (but also if u reread it like.. Lemme know if u caught the foreshadowing in the spicy scene)

This doesn’t answer any questions about our dear Main Character but we’ll get there I PROMISE eventually maybe I dunno, I have her story in my head but it’s not in here LMAO

This one is shorter than the first and I don’t really know why because TO ME AT LEAST might just be me, it feels a tad more detailed??? I dunno who knows.

Warnings; S M U T ahead, if you do not like it/are under 18, please do not read like honestly there’s like… A little bit of reading without it so. Yeah. That’s it this time guys!!

Adam Page/Fem!Nameless Reader

Spoilers (don’t read if you don’t want ‘em) it’s like. This is basically a retelling of sorts (????) so. Yep.

LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST, gotta tag @penelopeford

Anyways ily babies. Pls have tissues ready

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We keep all our promises, be us against the world.

It had been over a year since he promised peace if he fought one more war, one more war fought for reasons he would never know, treaties he would never get a say in. One more war and he could live happily with his perfect wife in their house far away from any kingdom that dare call upon him again.

As long as he had her, his very heart and soul, he would never again need anything promised to him by those cursed by the gods.

It had been over a year since he’d seen her, held her in his arms, basked in her warmth. And yet, as he crossed over their little hilltop, it seemed like only yesterday that he was just a simple stable boy stumbling over his words at the pretty, oh so pretty, baker girl he had just crashed into.

His breath caught in his chest as he watched her, busying herself with hanging the laundry. He quickly shushed down the grumbling of his horse, equally as ready to be home, allowing himself another moment to just watch before she noticed him.

She was still as beautiful as the day he left her.

An almost goofy smile graced his features at her small twirl, no doubt humming to herself as she danced around their little yard. He could sneak behind her, catch her in the act. Take her in his arms and find home against her lips. Find grace as he whispered sweet nothings, her voice calming his every thought.

An almost mocking whinny pulled him from his thoughts, his eyes narrowing as he glared down at the cursed beast. They only softened meeting with hers that now filled with tears.

“Adam?” It was a ghost of a whisper before she broke out into a run, no care for the laundry left behind and the dirt that now coated her feet.

“Damned horse,” he muttered as he dismounted, leaving his comrade to finally relax. She had leapt into his arms before he could even see her, arms acting on their own as he caught her before he fell to the ground. Her kisses grew salty, an inability to hold back her relief that he came back to her. He actually came back to her.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” his heart broke at the pain in her voice, his grip only tightening around her, his unspoken promise to her. “My heart can’t take it.” He knew. Knew how painful it was for her alone in their little house, wondering when he would come home. If he would ever come back to her.

“Angel,” it was a mumble against her now slowing lips, palms now pressed against her tear stained cheeks as he did his best to stop them from falling. “My angel. Never, I will never leave you again,” He couldn’t help the chuckle that left him as fresh tears filled her eyes. A smile lit up their features as he pushed her suddenly beneath him, her laughter lighting up his nerves at the near obnoxious kisses against her. “Y’know I’m powerless when it comes to you.”

“Don’t say that,” it came out as a breathy sigh as he rested his forehead against hers, simply breathing her in. “I’ll let it get to my head, I swear it.” He hummed in mock agreement, needy lips once again meeting hers.

“Then so be it, my love,” he swore he fell more in love as the colors of the sunset painted her skin, eyes watching him carefully, almost waiting for him to vanish. “So be it.”

In another life, I would make you stay.

The frame creaked against his weight as he watched his lover dance around the kitchen, excitement practically leaking from every pore on her body. His eyes shut briefly as he immersed himself in her quiet humming before pressing himself against her, arms encircling her waist as he joined her. His scent overwhelmed her senses as butterflies filled her stomach at his touch, smelling like home once again, like her Adam.

It started innocent enough, sweeping her hair to the side to place soft kisses against the back of her neck. He would blame her for the escalation, her little whimpers, begging him for more, please Adam, more going straight to his cock, the towel around his waist doing nothing to hide it.

“Missed you,” it was like heaven and hell, the contrast in the sincerity of his voice against the rough callousness of his hands practically tearing the front of her dress, exposing her to the chill of the house. His whispered calamities met with her whimpers, impatience now taking control as she rocked back into him. He took his time as her dress finally puddled on their kitchen floor, retracing every inch that replayed in his dreams while he was gone. “Thought I wouldn’t make it without you, thought of leaving every day. Every damn day. Aren’t you proud of me for staying?” His moans mixed with hers as his hands finally covered her breasts, the immediate warmth causing her hips to buck against his.

“Mhm, so proud, so so proud,” it came out rushed as she turned her head to meet his, heated kisses melting any complaints she wanted to mutter from her loneliness. Oh how she would have loved him to come back earlier but the comfort of knowing this was it, the last one, kept her sane. “Please. Don’t leave me, please.” His eyes softened along with his lips at how small her voice now sounded, turning her in his arms before scooping her up. He smiled at how perfectly she fit into his arms, kisses burying into the crook of his neck.

“How could I ever leave you,” it was a promise as he placed her against their bed, body hovering over hers. “Never again angel.” He took his time as he kissed her with all the words he couldn’t say, all the love he felt for her, the promises he was determined to keep, to stay and make her happy for the rest of their lives.

She kissed back, savoring the feeling of him surrounding her senses, the same promise flavoring her lips that she would do everything in her power to keep him happy, to keep him here with her. His groaning muscles turned silent at the first little moan that left her, his attention now focused on her neck and chest determined to drive out more of the noises that haunted his dreams.

He took it out on her breasts, an almost sadistic chuckle responding to her whimpers at the bruises bitten into existence, marking her if only to confirm that this time, this was real, she was real. He couldn’t help watch the rise and fall of her chest with awe as he brushed over her nipples, completely lost in the ethereal glow that refused to be replicated in his dreams. It was a whine, a needy little thing, that finally pulled him from his thoughts and brought his lips to one of the hardened buds. His fingers moved in tandem before meeting with her slick, releasing her with a groan. She was wet, she was so wet and warm and all for him.

It was done with all the grace and speed of a true fighter, her legs suddenly lifted over his shoulders, face buried in her wetness, hand pressing against her lips at the noise that escaped her. Embarrassment tinged her cheeks as he made quick work of removing her hand, holding it down with his.

“Don’t,” it was a warning, one she immediately found herself agreeing to at the darkening of his eyes. Their lips met once more as a comfort, the slight taste of herself now staining his tongue as they met. He couldn’t help one more as he pulled away, her small pout grounding him. “Keep yourself open f’me angel. Need you.” Hands stayed intertwined as he once again made his way down her body, soft kisses keeping his movements slowed. He practically growled as she tugged on his hair much too gently for obedience. But he would follow, god, he would follow her to the ends of the earth if she asked him to.

“Adam, please,” she tried to move him where she needed him, pressing her hips against his hold in some vain attempt to get him there. She was rewarded with teeth against her hip, a gentle grazing against her skin as he found pleasure in marking her up. So close, he was so close. “Please touch me, something, anything.”

“‘m already touching you angel,” he swore he found heaven in the noises she made, all needy and desperate, his nerves lighting up with every whine. His lips ghosted over pussy, the tip of his nose pressing just enough against her clit as he breathed her in. “What else do you want, hm?”

“Don’t be cruel, s’not fair,” her grip on him tightened as she tried to stay perfectly still though her patience was beginning to ware thin. He kept her hand in place with his as he finally gave her what she so prettily begged him for, her body jumping in surprise. She was a sweetness he had been kept from for too long, his moans meeting with hers as her taste finally filled him. He rested his head against twitching thighs as his fingers replaced his tongue, watching with awe as she swallowed one finger before adding another.

“Cruel with you? I could never,” his lips once again found hers as her first orgasm tore through her all too quickly being built from the very moment she saw him, the very moment she felt him in her arms once again. His lips caught every little noise that managed to escape, fingers continuing to work her into overstimulation. “Could never be cruel to you.”

“Please,” it was one that made his heart leap out of his chest, one that felt as though it was her very soul crying out for his. She pressed herself against him, shaky legs once again opening herself up to him. He knew it was selfish as he pressed another bruising kiss against her lips before teasing himself against her center, coating himself in her essence as he waited for her spoken consent once more.

He savored the way she stretched around him, the feel of her finally surrounding him once again. She was love, his light, the very meaning of his existence. He once again found his home as his hips pressed into hers, stilling to hold onto the feeling for just a bit longer. He found himself nodding along with her little pleas, finally pulling out only to snap back into her.

“I know angel, I know. I’ve got you,” he knew it was obnoxious, the way his lips explored the small dip between her neck and shoulder but he couldn’t find it in him to care as she crooned beneath him. His fingers once again met with her clit, encouraging another orgasm before he met his end. “C’mon angel, lemme feel you, god, I missed you so damn much.”

“Adam, please,” she didn’t know what she was begging for anymore, the only thing she knew was that she wanted more, more of him touching her. Her grip tightened against his hair, holding him against her as her orgasm hit her suddenly. She pressed his body further into hers, the weight of him comforting the unintelligible murmurs she hadn’t realized were spilling past.

“Love you,” Pleasure spread from his core as he spilled into her, kissing her as if she was his lifeline as he slowed to a stop, nerves continuing to tingle as he pulled out, watching their mess leak out. He finally gave in to his exhaustion, slumping down onto the mattress making quick work to pull her against him before his heartbeat helped her give in to her sleepy state.. He pressed one last kiss against the top of her head, the feeling of her safe in his arms lulling him to sleep.

“I love you.”

---

Wake up.

No.

Adam, wake up.

No, I can’t leave her.

Wake up.

Please, please just let me have this, just here, please, don’t take her from me again.

Adam.

No.

No, it can’t-

He kept his eyes shut as he savored the warmth of her against his skin, a sensation that was all too familiar. And yet, never enough. It’s a dream, your mind playing tricks on you.

“Adam,”

A shaky breath escaped him as he reached a hand up to meet hers, expecting to be left with nothing as he deserved, his grip tightening when she didn’t disappear. Tears leaked past shut eyes, refusing to have her taken from him again, even as he felt her press against him, her warmth wrapping around him like a child with a blanket. Even as he held her fragile body against him, her heartbeat mixing with his.

“Angel? Oh, my angel.”

#HAHAHAH it is done and I am satisfied #I ENJOYED WRITING THIS MORE THAN THE FIRST PART TBH #I think it's better written but might just be me idk #anyways here's part 2 #adam page smut #adam page x reader #wrestling smut #not gonna look over it because then I will have SELF DOUBT

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nompunhere · 2 years ago

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Little Shade

(Submitted H/ollow K/night Vore Ficlet)

[NPH edit: sorry, putting this under a cut bc I don’t want it to show up in the main tags, nor do I wanna put slashes in any names/titles

Characters: H/ornet, G/host(’s Shade), Sly and T/H/K mentioned Length: …Ficlet? Warnings: Temporary Character Death, Mourning, little bit of Eldritchness, and Safe, Soft, Willing Vore (technically half-size)]

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Hornet swung into the now abandoned Black Egg Temple, having a moment’s reprieve now that the Hollow Knight was asleep and in stable condition. She didn’t have time to mourn proper the little ghost’s death. She kneeled next to the broken mask and puddle that was all that was left of little Ghost and began to weep. They were so young, and took up a task so immense that it cost them their life. If Hornet could, she would do many things to give them another chance. Hornet knows not how long she’d been weeping; she told the shopkeeper fly to alert her when the Hollow Knight was awake. But she heard a noise in front of her, directly below her. She opens her eyes gently and listens closely. If she squints her tear filled eyes, she can see a gentle, thin twinkle of soul. “Sisterr….” Hornet can hardly believe what she’s seeing. The Ghost of Hallownest is clinging onto life. Hornet stands up, but immediately sits back down as she see’s a slight bit of lumafly lantern light from outside the black egg shine onto Ghost and cause the void to bubble. Voidlings need COMPLETE dark to start recovering. But Hornet didn’t have anywhere COMPLETELY dark that she could make right now. Unless… No, it’s a preposterous idea. But its the only idea she has. “Little Ghost, I’m going to need you to trust me. You can’t make any movement until I tell you. Do you trust me with your life?” “yes…” Gently, with all 4 of her hands, Hornet delicately took off her mask and picked up the puddle of void. It was slimy, the void trying to maintain any basic consistency. And it was freezing cold. So cold, so freezing. Ghost’s dim eyes look up at her, uncertainty and complete trust filling their eyes. Hornet gently opens her mouth and slides the Ghost of Hallownest into it. As Hornet feels the void trickle down her mouth, it’s as if her throat was impaled by a solid rod of ice. Hornet began to hurt, but she can’t stop now. Eventually, the eyes pass her chelicerae, and soon the rest of the void. Her cheeks stuffed, she closes her eyes and mouth and starts to swallow. GULP GULP G-U-U-LP Hornet breathed a sigh of relief as she felt the last of the void trickle down into her stomach. There it was completely safe, and Hornet could reliably feed Ghost by merely eating food. And just looking at Hornet’s belly, nobody could tell. “Little Ghost, are you alright in there?” “Yes…Warm…cozy…” Hornet’s special package in tow, Hornet stands up with a renewed confidence as she hears the footsteps of the shopkeeper behind her. Hornet is going to be alright. Ghost is going to be alright.

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Alright alright, not bad. (Hope you don’t mind me throwing in some capitalization and punctuation edits;;) I’m guessing you’re the same person who sent in this ask:

(we’re just not gonna acknowledge the scribbled out bit here)

It’s a cute idea, I’ll say that much! I’m a little iffy about it being Hornet, bc I know some people around here are strongly against familial vore, but I.. well, I don’t have too strong of an opinion either way, so long as it’s not even remotely sexual.

But anyway, I like the base concept! Thank you for sharing your writing. Also-

I mean, maybe. Again, it’s a neat idea. We’ll see if I ever get around to it, though. Kind of got a lot of other WIPs and ideas floating around rn. and who knows how much longer the HK hyperfixation will last. probably not long enough to write them all. (don’t worry, the hyperfixation shows no signs of abating just yet, it’s just that I have a metric frickton of ideas.)

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DNI NSFW blogs, blogs that post exclusively hard and/or fatal vore, weight gain blogs, mpreg blogs, proshippers, TERFs, ace exclusionists, etc.

#submitted post #ask #(they're there too trust me)#hk vore #fandom vore #soft vore #safe vore #extreme cuddling #vore fic #not my writing #tw bugs #hk spoilers #my commentary at the end

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storiesbymads · 4 years ago

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WATERMELON SHAMPOO AND COCONUT BODY WASH ( jj maybank . )

JJ and his girlfriend take a shower together after a long day in the water

warnings: they a little nakey bc its a shower but other than that it’s fluff

wc: 1k

The sun was still heavily beating down on you as you stepped into the chateau with JJ hot on your trail. You had your fingers intertwined as you led him into the small bathroom connected to the guest bedroom. The clock on the wall showed you that it was edging on 5pm.

“No funny business today, J, I mean it. I feel gross enough as it is,” you chuckled as he shut the bathroom door behind him with his foot and stripped himself of his muscle tank. You cringed a little bit when you tried to run your fingers through the tangled mess of hair on your head prior to pulling the damp shirt over your head.

“Baby, why did you invite me in here then?” he said, moving behind you to untie your bikini top. “Move your hair, please.”

You obliged, feeling him place a tender kiss on the skin of your neck before dropping your hair and turning around to face him. His hands immediately found your hips-- he did it out of habit now-- as yours moved to cup his cheeks. They were a little warm from the wicked sunburn he was currently sporting; you had tried to warn him about falling asleep while tanning but, of course, he didn’t listen.

“I love you, princess,” he mumbled and moved his face slightly out of your grasp to place a kiss onto the palm of your hand.

“Love you more, J,” you smiled. The two of you stood there for a second more before separating and removing the last of your clothing. JJ stepped past you to turn on the water, letting it heat up as you took off the last of your jewelry. Once the water was at the right temperature he pulled the shower curtain back enough for the two of you to step in before promptly shutting it again.

His hands immediately found their place back on your hips once you situated yourself under the hot stream of water, sighing as it re-wet your hair and worked the tenseness out of your muscles. It’d been a long day in the sun and this was exactly what you needed.

“What shampoo we feeling today? Lavender, coconut…” JJ trailed off as he looked through the various products on the shower caddy behind your head. You still had no idea why John B had decided to stock this bathroom with so many different types of shampoo and conditioner but you weren’t complaining. Still, you and JJ had a running theory that Kie had something to do with it.

“Watermelon,” you said, spinning around yourself to locate your favorite out of the selection and handing it to him. So what if it was kids Suave?

“Trade places with me, angel,” he said, opening the bottle and squirting some into the palm of his hand. You gave him a small pout before awkwardly shuffling past each other so that he was now under the spray of water. With your back now turned to him, he began massaging the soap into your scalp.

“Make sure you get the end of my hair, too,” you said. JJ managed a chuckle in response.

“I know,” he paused to place a kiss on your shoulder that he almost immediately regretted due to all of the soap that managed to get into his mouth. You let out a loud giggle when you heard him sputtering and spitting behind you while still attempting to shampoo your hair. “Shut up I was trying to be sweet.”

“I know,” you smiled as he tapped your shoulder so that you could switch places again. You gladly welcomed the feeling of the hot water, running your fingers through your hair to remove a lot of the excess soap. “What about you, J? Which one?”

“Same as you,” he said, pointing to the bottle of Suave despite the fact that you had already picked it up. He titled his head forward for you to start applying the soap to his hair. He always complained about not being able to see you when he was turned around.

“Let me wash out the rest of my stuff and then we’ll swap again, ok?” you said as he tilted his head back up to watch you rinse. What you didn’t see was the giant smile on his face once his hands met that same spot on your hips.

The two of you repeated the whole process with conditioner before JJ picked up an almost-empty bottle of coconut body wash. Despite the large variety of shampoos and conditioners in John B’s shower, he only had a single, extra-large bottle of body wash. At least it wasn’t Axe.

JJ grabbed the yellow loofah off of the shower caddy and squirted some of the body wash onto it. He started applying it to your shoulders before moving lower, spending a little too much time on your chest. You smacked his hand away lightly with a giggle.

“What? They looked dirty,” he said with a goofy smile plastered to his face as he continued washing the rest of your torso. He spun you around to wash your back and thighs before handing you the loofah to get your arms and such. At this point, the water had lost most of its heat but you were both too lost in each other to reach for the handle to turn it up any more.

Once you finished, you grabbed the body wash bottle and struggled to put the slightest bit more on the loofah prior to giving JJ the same treatment he’d given you. After you both made sure you’d gotten all the soap off your bodies and out of your hair, you turned off the water and stepped out into the steamed up bathroom. Lucky for you, there were two towels hanging on the rack.

JJ grabbed his, wrapping it around his waist as you wrapped yours around your torso. You wiped some of the steam off the mirror as JJ stepped behind you, arms tucked just below yours with his head resting on your shoulder.

You watched him place a kiss on your cheek through the rapidly fogging mirror before saying, “C’mon let’s go get dressed so we can take a nap before dinner.”

tagging @softstarkey

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow x reader #obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine

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ktinastrikesback · 3 years ago

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Do you think they would actually give us buck living with Eddie and chris? Bc like the title home and away makes me think they might have buck at the Diaz home

Oh, I would love to see it. Do I think they’ll actually give it to us? Nah. But there is always a possibility! Idk, I would feel more confident about it if Taylor and Ana weren’t in the picture, but they are…and I don’t see the writers taking the time to explore all the complicated nuances involved with that scenario. But then again, Buck has kind of referred to the Diaz house as home before (“I’m not really a guest”), so I won’t lie to you… my brain immediately went “Buck at Eddie’s house” when I read that episode title. I think we’ll get Buck and the Diaz boys grouped together in that episode (remember, magical #3), but I don’t know if we’ll see Buck living there temporarily/long-term any time soon. We’re lucky we got him staying there in 4x14. Basically, my answer is 🤷🏻‍♀️

Tagging @kitkatpancakestack @yramesoruniverse and @loveyourownsmiilee because I would love to hear their thoughts on this too.

#anon ask #911 speculation #911onfox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #home and away #what does it mean #is it bad I’m more excited for 5x03 than the premiere eps #like hello we have BRENNA #and then this intriguing title #AND it’s the magical third episode #regardless we will have some good stuff from this ep I think

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reidgraygubler · 4 years ago

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a different type of high (spencer reid/reader) pt 5

Title: A Different Type of High (part five)

Request: no

Couple: spencer reid/gender-neutral!reader

Category: angst/fluff

Content Warning: swearing, mentions of drug use/withdrawl, mentions of narcotics anonymous, anxiety, comments about someone’s weight (for like a quick second), mentions of smoking (cigarettes)

Word Count: 4,192

Summary: Reader goes to the BAU offices to meet the rest of the team, where they find out how Spencer met them. And reader and Emily have a heart to heart about their life.

A/N: i don’t have much to say here, other than thanks for reading this and loving it so much. I wasn’t expecting it to get as much attention as it’s getting! so thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

previous part series masterlist next part

{***}{***}{***}

A white and blue plastic tag was clipped to my nicest shirt. The word ‘VISITOR’ was printed in bright red at the bottom. I glanced at Spencer, feeling my anxiety start to rise in my stomach and up my throat. He seemed different here. I supposed he had to be different here because it was, indeed, his job. He had to pretend to not be a drug addict, and going through tough shit in life with some girl he met at NA.

“Can we get lunch after?” I looked up at him as we stepped onto the elevator. Spencer was close beside me and it was nice having his presence so close to me. “Or coffee or something?” I looked back at the doors of the elevator. The lighting was more of a crispy white light, and I’m sure the rest of this building has this bright and blinding light.

“Of course… My treat since I brought you out here,” Spencer looked back down at me. He lifted an arm and wrapped it around back in a weird side hug. I swallowed and nodded before looking at the ground.

“Do you know what we’re going to tell them?” I looked back up at him. And before he got the chance to answer, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. I dropped my shoulders and looked at the now open doors.

Spencer looked down at me with an apologetic look in his eye. He slowly lifted his hand, offering it to me to hold as some sort of comfort. I stared at it for a moment before grasping it. I looked up at his face and forced a smile, silently telling him that we could move. The lobby was very open and large. A large glass window/door showed a series of desks and a few offices. And hallways led off of either side of the door to more offices.

“We can stop at my desk first before we go see anyone,” Spencer whispered as we walked towards the doors. I looked back up at him and nodded. “Are you okay?” his voice filled with genuine worry.

“Yeah,” I mumbled and stayed close beside him. I wouldn’t dare tell him that I was scared shitless because then he’d feel bad for taking me here. And I don’t want him to feel bad because this was my decision to come here. He wanted me to meet his friends and family. In fact, I wanted to meet his friends and family.

The expression on his face told me that he was worried. So, me trying to not make him feel bad wasn’t working out. I guess if I pretended like everything was okay and faked it all, he’d be okay. Spencer’s a smart man, he knows how to read people (I mean, that is basically his job). To be fair, I’ve never exactly imagined stepping foot in a government facility while I struggled with drugs. And, maybe the anxiety I was feeling wasn’t from meeting actual FBI agents, but instead, it was withdrawal...

“I didn’t know you played chess” I looked at the small chessboard on the desk we were walking towards. I only assumed it was his, it just had a vibe that suited him. “My mom showed me how to play when I was 12, but… It’s been a while since I last played,” I shrugged as I watched him collect a few things from his desk. They were a few beige/brown colored folders and books. I wondered what was in the folders, but it was probably classified information that a normal citizen, like me, wasn’t allowed to see.

“Yeah, my mom taught me when I was younger. This was given to me by an old friend that I used to play with,” he looked at the set before moving a piece, “Keeps me busy when I’m bored,” he looked back at me and smiled. Something told me that he played fairly often when they weren’t working.

“You’ll have to reteach me how to play,” I shrugged, watching as he put everything in his bag. I looked around the office and noted just how many FBI agents were around, and I was starting to feel a certain anxiety rise in my stomach. No, no, this was definitely anxiety from being in an FBI facility, because of the illegally obtained drugs. Maybe a little bit of it was from the withdrawal.

“Okay, I’ll give you the tour then everyone should be up there,” he looked down at his watch before looking up at a room separated from the desks and other offices.

“Sounds good,” I whispered. He walked beside me, bringing me back out of the room with the desks. A small shiver went through my body as we left the room. Spencer glanced down at me before wrapping an arm around my body, holding me close to him.

He brought me down one hall, showing me to the bathrooms and his friends' offices. There were a few other boring offices before he brought me down the opposing hall. There wasn’t much other than more offices, but at the end of the hall, was another office owned by one of his friends.

“She has other things to do so she won’t be joining us in the conference room,” Spencer spoke before knocking on the door. A faint, but cheery, ‘Come in’ came from the other side. Spencer looked back at me before opening up the door. “I promise you’ll like her,” he whispered before entering the room. I stayed close behind him, kinda hiding myself from the other human.

“What can I do ya for, Reid,” a woman asked, her tone filled with playful sarcasm. I bit back my lips and kept my eyes on my back. At least she sounded nice… “Wait, I thought you had the day off,”

“Just came by to grab a few things. And I brought a special guest,” Spencer spoke as he reached behind him. I looked down at his hand before gently placing my hand in it. His fingers wrapped around mine and he carefully pulled me around to stand beside him. “This is Penelope Garcia,” he looked down at me with a smile. Penelope stood up from her chair to look at me. Spencer looked back at the woman and smiled before introducing me.

“Oh! You’re Reid’s friend! I’ve heard so much about you!” Penelope exclaimed as she pulled me into a hug. I froze as she embraced me, and I wanted nothing more than for Spencer to just pull me away from this situation.

“You’ve… You’ve heard so much about me?” I asked, mostly to myself. What exactly did Spencer tell his friends about me? I guess I just assumed he didn’t talk about me at all. I looked up at Spencer with a raised eyebrow. I’m sure my expression told him that I was worried about everything she knows about me.

“Goodness! You’re so skinny!” She added as she stepped away from me. I stared at her with wide eyes as I stepped further away from her and to stand closer to Spencer. Spencer looked at her with a raised eyebrow, silently telling her something.

“Yeah it’s probably bc of my shitty life,” I thought to myself, “It’s nice meeting you,” I looked at her and smiled. My smile was very forced and felt very fake. Spencer knew that, and Penelope knew that.

“If you ever need anything, anything at all, please feel free to call me. Even if it’s just to hang out,” she smiled at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded. “I know it can get pretty lonely while they’re working a case,” Penelope looked over at Spencer with a smile. I stared at her with wide eyes as I tried to figure this woman out.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” I nervously smile at her. Spencer glanced down at me as Penelope started talking about something. My anxiety was entirely too high to actually know what the fuck she was actually talking about. Could have been anything, honestly. But, from the basic gist that I was getting, she was just asking me a million questions and Spencer was answering them. But, the one question we both avoided was ‘So, how did you meet our precious Boy Wonder?’, like we were in some sort of relationship, even though we were just really good friends. It still scared me though, mostly because we’ll have to answer that question in a matter of minutes.

“Well, I think the others are in the conference room,” Spencer looked down at me as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I looked up at him and faked a smile before looking over at Penelope.

“It was nice meeting you, Penelope,” I made sure to keep my fake smile on my lips as I looked at her. She dropped her shoulders before going to give me another hug, which I accepted even though I didn’t really want to hug.

“It was so nice meeting you too! I hope we can hang out! And I hope I can see you again soon,” she placed her hands on my shoulders and smiled. I looked up at Spencer and smiled softly. The smile Penelope gave Spencer was awfully cheery smile before she actually allowed us to leave.

I glanced up at Spencer once we were in the hallway and away from Penelope’s office.

“I’m… I’m sorry for her,” he whispered as he grabbed my hand. I raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“It’s okay, I think,” my voice was even lower than his. The uncertainty in my tone caused Spencer to look down at me. I didn’t want to tell him that Penelope was overwhelming, while we were still in the building with hundreds of FBI agents. “Just as long as everyone else is chill and they don’t ask a million questions,” I looked at him with a shy smile.

“They’ll probably ask a bunch of questions, but not a million miles an hour,” Spencer laughed lightly. The closer we got to the main office areas, the more anxious and nervous I got. I mean, I was already nervous, but this was just making it worse. It was incredibly hard not to go into autopilot mode and just fake my way through the whole interaction. But then they’d know something was wrong with me. I’m sure the pure exhaustion on my face, the skinniness of my body, and the weird mood I was already in were all good signs of something being wrong with me. Maybe they won’t question it all to my face?

“Do you know how you’ll answer the thousand dollar question? The one that I worry about the most?” I kept my voice low because I didn’t want a stray agent to hear my question and Spencer’s answer of ‘Oh, I was just going to tell them we met at narcotics anonymous,’. Because I just know he’s going to tell them that.

Unfortunately for me, Spencer didn’t actually answer my question. He just stayed quiet. Which caused me to have a mild heart attack as we walked back into the main office area and up a small staircase. It wasn’t until we were at a door that he answered me.

He turned and faced me, a slight worried look in his eye. I couldn’t exactly tell what it was about though. So, that’s when my mind started running wild with all the worst possibilities. What if he already told them? And this isn’t him bringing me to meet his team, his friends, his family. No, this is him bringing me in, to go to jail. He’s been lying to me this whole time… Shit, fuck, shit… I don’t know what to do.

Spencer must have seen something, my sudden fear, flash in my eyes. Part of me wanted to turn and run, but that’d cause too much of a scene. I’d probably have more Federal Agents on me than behind this stupid door. Whatever.

My body partly turned, and I could feel my legs wanting to move, but I was honestly paralyzed. Spencer lifted a hand and rested it on my shoulder, stopping me from moving any further. His touch was very gentle, and I stopped all movement there. I nearly had to convince myself to actually breathe and blink.

“It’s okay. There’s no reason to be scared…” he whispered as he pulled his hand from me. I swallowed roughly as I looked at him. My heart was going a million miles a second, and it just wouldn’t slow. “I was… I was just thinking… We should just tell them,” his voice, just like his touch, was gentle. Don’t fall for this. There’s still a chance that he was lying, that this was all a ruse. Well, wait… Why else would he want to tell them…

“You think… you… You want to tell them? Spencer, I,” I stopped talking and swallowed roughly, feeling my anxiety go higher and higher as the time passed, “I’ve barely been clean for 2 months, Spencer. You know I almost… And you… You want to tell them that you met someone at Narcotics Anonymous… Where people go… when they’re addicted to drugs… because you’re… I don’t think that’s a good-”

“Trust me. Can you do that? They won’t be mad. I think they’ll be happy that I have friends outside of work, and that I’m getting the help I need. And, that you’re getting the help you need. Two months is a big accomplishment. Even if you were clean for a day… That’d be a big accomplishment. But this is the first time you’ve made it this before,” Spencer whispered, a soothing and warm smile on his lips. I couldn’t help but return the smile, trying to hide my face from him as a very sudden embarrassment took over. “You don’t even have to tell them where we met. I’ll do it,” he whispered before grasping my hand again. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Okay, okay,” I looked down at the ground and nodded.

“Ready?” his voice still a whisper. I looked up at him and nodded.

“Now or never, I suppose,” I shrugged. Spencer looked at my face, a worried crease in his eyebrows and in his eyes. He slowly turned to the door to open in it. It was taking everything in me to calm myself down, and to convince myself that I was not going to be arrested.

Spencer pushed the door open and led me into the office. The least he could have done was warn about how many people would be on the other side of the door. I thought I was freaking out before. But standing in front of me were 4 other Federal Agents, and standing beside me was another. This was bad… This was really bad.

“This is Jennifer, Derek, and Aaron,” Spencer spoke, gesturing towards each person, “And of course you’ve met Emily,” he looked towards Emily. I smiled at each of them and nodded as Spencer gave them my name. “Where’s Gideon?”

“Office. Should be up in a minute,” Aaron looked up from his folder and at Spencer and me, “It’s nice meeting you,” he looked right at me and nodded. I stared at him and nodded lightly.

“Where did you two meet,” Jennifer looked at me as she walked around the table to stand in front of me and Spencer. I froze like “I was in a freezer” froze. “A deer in headlights” froze. I slowly looked up at Spencer with my eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, where does my man, Spencer Reid, meet a person like you,” Derek then asked as he leaned against the table. His eyes looked up and down at me, checking me out… Or was he looking for something out of the ordinary? I could feel my breathing stop, yet simultaneously picking up.

“I actually… We met at Narcotics Anonymous,” Spencer’s voice was real low, so quiet as he spoke. The air in the room got tense, so tense that it was suffocating. Everyone looked at Spencer, and just Spencer, with shock on their faces. For the first time since I entered this building, I felt invisible. Which, I guess, was good. But bad at the same time. Because, if I’m invisible to them right now, that means a high beam is on Spencer and shit could go down.

“Reid,” Derek started but stopped when Spencer looked at him, silently telling him to stop. The grip Spencer had on my hand tightened, and it scared me. Mostly because he probably realized that this was a mistake and he’s scared now. Which, in turn, only scared me more.

“We’re both clean. I swear, we’re both clean,” he looked back at everyone. I knew he was lying, but I think that’s okay that I was the only one who knew he was lying. Granted, he was doing everything he could to get better, but… I understand being stressed, or anxious, or scared, and wanting to just turn to a weakness that could kill you. Last week, for instance… I got scared of nothing and almost made a big mistake. “I know I should have said something sooner, told you the truth instead of keeping it from you. But…”

“Spence,” Jennifer looked over at Spencer with wide eyes. She stepped away from the table before hugging him, hard. I looked at the pair hugging, wishing I had someone like that to hug me when they find out I’m going through a “rough time”. “I wish we knew… We could have… We would have helped,” she stepped away from him, resting her hands on his shoulders. I looked at her before looking down at the ground.

“I’m… I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” I muttered before quickly rushing away from the others. More words would be exchanged between Spencer and his co-workers, his friends, his family. A family I don’t have and will probably never have. Whatever… Whatever, I’m happy he’ll have a great support system.

Once I found my way to the bathroom, I locked myself in a stall and could feel myself begin to hyperventilate. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, and my hands quickly went to my face to hide from the world. Although, I was hiding in my own world, behind the bathroom doors, in a small stall.

My world wasn’t necessarily collapsing around me, but it felt like that. My head spun and my chest felt like it was going to explode. This sudden anxiety attack wasn’t something I was 100% expecting to happen. Although, the anxiety I was feeling beforehand was probably just building up, and I was just pushed to the edge before I broke down.

“Are you alright in here?” A familiar voice asked from outside the stall. I froze before wiping my nose. It was hard being silent, pretending like I didn’t exist. “I know you’re in here. You told us you were going to the bathroom, and I heard you sniffling just a moment ago,” she continued with a small chuckle. I looked down at the ground before standing up and pushing out of the stall.

Emily was standing against the counter, leaning right in front of where the door was. She looked at me with a distressed look on her face. Shit, they got Spencer, and now they’re going to get me… I glanced at the door, before looking back at Emily. I could feel my body moving before I gave it the okay. My feet going quick towards the door.

“I’m not going to arrest you,” Emily quickly said as she stepped in front of me to stop me from running away, “And, we’re not going to arrest Spencer either,” she laughed lightly as she looked down at me. I looked up at her with wide eyes. “You can calm down. I promise. I’m just making sure you’re okay… You’d been in here for a while, and Spencer was worried about you,” she calmly explained as she rested a hand on my shoulder. I looked at her before nodding lightly.

“You’re… You’re not just saying that?” I whispered, keeping my eyes on her. Because surely if I looked away from her, she’d do something I didn’t want happening.

“I promise you, I’m not just saying that,” she reassured. I nodded and looked at the ground, “Are you okay?” She actually asked, pulling her hands away from my body.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I nodded as I cautiously looked up at her. She raised an eyebrow, silently telling me that she knew I was lying. I looked back at the ground and shrugged. “What?”

“I’ve been in this line of work long enough to know when people are lying… And to know when people are not okay,” she whispered, her voice so soft and gentle. She was genuinely concerned about me. I’ve only met her once before, and she seemed very nice.

“I’m not okay,” I whispered as I looked at her. I don’t remember the last time I was honest with someone about my feelings. 90% of the time I lie at meetings because I don’t want a bunch of actual crackheads knowing that I’m depressed. “I think… I think seeing Spencer with everyone… And everyone being supportive…” I started but allowed my words to trail off, mostly because I didn’t really want to say I was jealous of my best friend.

“Oh, I see,” Emily whispered as she leaned against the counter in front of me. I looked at her before looking down at the ground, then over at the door, then back at the ground.

“Yeah, I’ve never really had a support system like he does, now, and…” I sighed deeply and looked up at her again, “I just have Spencer, and that’s a little hard when we’re both trying… To… Ya know,” I whispered and shrugged.

“Well, I don’t know if Spencer told you this… But, any friend or family of his is a friend or family of the team. I know we’ve only met once before, but I’d gladly be a support team for you,” she whispered, and I honestly couldn’t tell if she was just telling me what I wanted to hear. But part of me knew she was telling the truth.

“You guys aren’t, like, mad or anything that Spencer was doing drugs? Or like... That he made friends with a dru-recovering drug addict,” I looked up at her, very cautiously.

“We’re just happy he, and you, are getting the help you both need. We’re all just surprised he kept it to himself for as long as he did,” she explained. I nodded and looked down at the ground.

“And, like… He’s not going to get fired, is he? He said it wasn’t his fault that this happened,” I sighed as I looked at her.

“Spencer’s not going to lose his job. He’s too loved and too much of an asset,” she laughed lightly. I returned the laughter and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s pretty smart…” I rubbed the underside of my nose and shrugged, “The first time we kinda hung out… He kept telling me that smoking can take 6 minutes of your life away to get me to stop,”

“Did it work?” Emily asked, a playful chuckle in her tone. I laughed and nodded.

“Kinda. I mean… I smoke every so often, but not as much as I used to,” I sighed as I looked up at her, “I still do it when he isn’t around. But when he’s around I forget things… Like… The shit hand I was dealt. Ya know? Like, he gives me something else to think about,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I spoke. Emily cocked her head to her shoulder and looked up at my face. I looked at her, feeling my face relax.

“Like what?” She asked. I could feel a small smile slowly growing on my lips. She returned the smile, kinda knowing what I meant. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say. We should probably go back out there, don’t you think? They might be looking for us,” she laughed and gestured towards the door. I looked towards the door one last time.

“Yeah, yeah,” I nodded before stepping closer to the door, “Spencer said something earlier about lunch, and I’m starved.” I laughed and walked beside Emily.

“Where were you guys going?”

“I’m not sure, do you know of any good places,” I looked over at her. She thought for a moment and cocked her head.

“There’s a really good deli down the street, I’m sure Spencer would love it there. They serve coffee and I’m sure you know how he feels about coffee,” She chuckled lightly.

“Whenever he stays at my apartment, he always insists we get coffee because I don’t have any,” I shook my head before laughing. Emily nearly cackled and nodded.

“Sounds like him,”

“What are you two laughing about,” Spencer looked over at Emily and I as we re-entered the conference room. I looked over at him with a smile.

“Uh, lunch,”

series taglist: @shameleswhorehourstm , @itsametaphorbriansblog , @bxtchboy69 , @sammypotato67 , @seninjakitey , @thebluetint , @honestlystop , @herecomesthewriterwitch , @mediocrity-atitsfinest

tags that didn’t work: @mediocrehamiltrash , @thatsonezesty13 ,

(if you want to be apart of the series taglist, let me know!)

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poltronova · 3 years ago

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fics i read in january

marvel

new dream by writerllofllworlds - irondad, au where tony is kidnapped and one cell over is a kid who has been there a while (18k)

hush (for it is dark) by losingmymindtonight - irondad, pretty immediate post-endgame where peter can’t sleep, i don’t really do endgame stuff anymore but this feels like a goodnight tuck (~4k)

911/lone star

it’s never too late to come back to my side by swiftiediaz - post s5e10 cliffhanger where eddie isn’t with the 118 anymore but is still listed as bucks emergency contact. i see the swiftie title and i click! (3.6k)

right here waiting by blackandwhiteandrose - buck gets a new girlfriend (not taylor) who is perfect and eddie can’t stand her, i really don’t normally do the jealousy stuff but this is so well done (7.5k)

thicker than water by madamewriterofwrongs - post season 4 where anytime someone mistakes buck as chris’s dad he has an existential crisis bc of the will, prerelationship (2.7k)

not too late to talk about it by lasvegas_lights - another post s5e10 where buck gets hurt and eddie isn’t there, includes a gut punching “i barely stopped for red lights” west wing parallel (3.3k)

all we are is skin and bone by zoeyclarke - again i see swiftie title and i click! also set post s5e10 but eddie and chris move back to texas. set a few years in the future when they venture back to LA and see not much has changed while simultaneously everything has. LOTS of complicated feelings, dad!buck but not very taylor friendly so dead dove etc (16k)

the space between the seconds by djdangerlove - s3e2 spec fic with carlos pining at TKs bedside, i NEEDED something after that first episode and this was it (1.2k)

wherever you are, i’m almost there by s1lverwren - eddie gets stuck in a groundhogs day time loop of hallmark christmas eves until he and buck finally figure themselves out (17k)

spn

we’ll find a new home by sleepyvan - food as a love language truthers feat confessions in a costco. post despair/au fix it (~8k)

empty spaces by insanetrolllogic - lisa pov set after the memory wipe, so good but short, DEF would read more if expanded (~900)

somewhere i have never travelled by museaway - au where cas accidentally hits the impala and mechanic!dean offers to fix it up for him. SUCH a good development of the relationship, lots of features from other characters, double check the tags but this was such a lovely read (53k)

#forgot to post this

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hazel-rah · 3 years ago

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Share five albums you liked in 2021

Tagged by @dextervexter

A Southern Gothic by Adia Victoria

I love songs that are stories, but I love albums that tell whole stories even more, and I especially love the gothic. This album is haunting but whimsical with some really beautiful vocals. I love the specificity of the album title being “*A* Southern Gothic”, it’s almost like the story of one girl in particular, that you follow closely and become emotional invested in while listening. I got into this album late in the year, which I think is perfect bc it is excellent dark autumnal music.

Fav track: Please Come Down, closely followed by Deep Water Blues and South for The Winter

Montero by Lil Nas X

This was such a fun and intense album, every song on it got me excited. I think people assume emotional songs have to be slow, but there are some faster paced pieces on this album that prove them wrong. This is a very personal album, and really cements Lil Nas’ status as a household name. It had a great mix of hectic and energetic songs, with heavier somber moments. In particular, the choir part in DEAD RIGHT NOW might be my favourite moment on the whole album. 10/10, sound of the summer

Fav track: Industry Baby

As Days Get Dark by Arab Strap

This is THE album for eerie and uncomfortable folk songs. Each song is like sitting around a fire in a dark wood while each person tells a different story, stories without moral but with lots of horror. The Scottish accent has never sounded so wonderful then when it’s scaring you and breaking your heart. I’ve also seen this album in vinyl and I have to say it gets points for just looking beautiful, the whole piece is so well put together.

Fav track: Fable of the Urban Fox

American IV: The Man Comes Around by Johnny Cash

This is just one of those albums I come back to every couple of years, and each time it’s like hearing it for the first time. Cash achieved so much in his life, but saw very little of the change he wanted for America. He knew he was dying. There is so much pathos in this album, I honestly place it leagues above other albums. It’s like reading his diary. The songs choices, the weight in his voice, the sparse snd simple instrument choices throughout… idk no one talk to me about this album

Fav track: We’ll Meet Again

Billie Holiday’s titular album

The dreamiest songs of all time… Perfectly capturing the feel and emotion of the romance of her time, packed with yearning, hoping, wishing, this is the soundtrack for daydreaming. I’ve cried to every song on this album and not even in a sad way. To me, Holiday is a Romantic the same way Byron or Keats was a Romantic. There’s nothing else out there like her, many have tried and many have fallen short. She was so special, and this music means so much to me

Fav track: I’ll Be Seeing You. Maybe one of my favourite songs of all time. “I’ll Be looking at the moon, but I’ll be seeing you”? Kills and revives me every time

Tagging: @bugsongs @cruelsister @thottybrucewayne @needletail (no pressure tho 💓)

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rudysrings · 4 years ago

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Someday Soon

A/N: So the blog I started for my atla writing isn’t showing up in the tags. big sad. i’ll just put them on my main i guess. guess i write for atla now oop. I’ll write for pretty much anybody bc I do be a simp for atla and lok. Also the title sucks bc this is something i just wrote when it was simping for zuko hours, and i just felt like posting.

Warnings: er angst and fluff and allusions to sex i guess? it’s pretty PG ngl...

this gif is super overused but don’t lie you love it : D ;)

Okie here we go!

You found yourself seeking out the banished prince, despite the Gaang’s instant rejection of him. It had been too long since you had seen him, spoken with him, touched him.

You surprisingly felt no anger anymore, only sorrow for what you had lost. You knew nothing would ease that pain other than the presence of the boy himself.

You were grateful to Toph for understanding, for showing you the way and leaving you to speak alone.

He was asleep when you found him. You were surprisingly unprepared for that outcome.

Unsure about waking him, you simply sat a few feet away in the cave, drawing your legs close to your chest as you shivered in the cold of the night. You must have been there for no more than a few moments when you felt Zuko pull you towards him. “Hey,” he greeted, pulling you into his warm embrace. You could tell that he had done so because he had seen you freezing half to death.

It was so easy, the two of you alone in that little cave, for you to pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist, that the harsh history between you was simply a bad dream.

You’d never felt so weak as you did then, not even when you were imprisoned, beaten down and your very identity ripped away. Because even then, you had known good from evil. But now, you were at war with yourself, unable to draw the line with his amber eyes melting away every ounce of your defiance.

Zuko held you close, but didn’t make any sudden moves, both out of awareness of your fragile disposition and out of pure respect for you. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel obligated to do something you would regret. Not that you would ever be so easily manipulated by anyone, but as selfish as it was, he secretly hoped that he made you as vulnerable as you made him.

You released a breath, not meeting his eyes as you straddled him timidly, the blush clear on your cheeks and neck. You were too absorbed in yourself to notice the same flush present on him.

“I wish I could just wake up from this nightmare,” you whispered. “This nightmare where you’re the bad guy, and you’ve hurt me in every way you can, and we can never be the same again.”

Zuko didn’t know why you were sharing this with him, opening yourself up after all this time, but he sure wasn’t complaining; he greedily licked up any piece of yourself you gifted him with.

“You’d think it would be easy to hate you, but Zuko,” you finally looked up at him, taken slightly aback by the emotion in his eyes. This was hurting him as much as it was you. “I just can’t seem to let you go.”

Zuko let a tear fall, blinking quickly as he spoke, “I-I don’t want you to let me go. Please. Everyone else except you and Uncle have already given up on me...just when I’m finally figuring out my destiny. And after what I’ve done to Uncle, he must hate me. I don’t--I need--as selfish as it is, I need your forgiveness. I can never take back what I did to you. I regret it every day. I understand if-if you can’t--”

The sight of your prince carrying all this guilt, feeling so alone and pleading with you for your forgiveness touched something within you that you thought you had managed to bury deep within yourself. Surging forward, you quieted that voice you adored so much with a kiss, drawing an mmph! from Zuko.

But he didn’t miss a beat, instantly winding around you on instinct, his mouth sliding over yours in just the right way, his hot tongue reminding you just how much you loved doing this.

You pulled away abruptly, afraid you’d forget what you were going to say if you let yourself get lost in him.

He looked up at you in question, his lips red and beautifully swollen from your kisses. “I forgive you, Zuko.” You felt a piece shift into place in your own heart as you said those words, a weight relieving itself from your chest.

You felt Zuko’s entire body sag with relief, his eyes twinkling with emotion, his lips parted in disbelief. “Spirits, I’m falling all in you...all over again,” Zuko said, his hot breath tickling your face.

His words encouraged your next move. You wound your arms around his neck, sliding forward on his lap to where you were chest to chest.

It seemed that even the moon didn’t want to encroach on your intimate moment, the moonlight somehow fading away, the infamous bright gold of Zuko’s eyes the only thing you could see clearly in the darkness of the cave.

You leaned back into him, your mouths colliding again. Your hands began to wander, slipping beneath his robe, seeking out the familiar contours you loved so dearly.

As your fingers began untying the knot that held his robes together, Zuko tensed, feeling the moment change as your focus shifted.

Zuko pulled away, dropping his lips to your ear to whisper, “Hey, hey, hey, slow down, y/n.”

You immediately stopped, your hands drawing back into yourself. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Zuko. I wanted--and I thought you wanted--”

Zuko chuckled, shaking his head. He brought your forehead to his, his eye glittering with mischief as he reassured you. “Trust me, angel, with you, I always want to.”

You blushed, unable to help the joy that filled your smile at his flattery. “But then, why…?” You trailed off.

“Why am I torturing myself?” Zuko asked, his expression full of mirth.

You nodded, smiling at his sudden lightheartedness. You had a feeling it might have something to do with getting your forgiveness. It had truly lightened his soul.

“Because even though I really, really, really want to, and you need to trust me on that, if we’re ever going to get on the right path again, I doubt this is the right way to start off?” He asked, as if looking for your input, too.

Your shoulders dropped in realization. You smiled inwardly at his forethought; he must really care. Tears pricked your eyes. “You’re completely right, Zuko.”

You began to feel the weight of the emotional day you had had, pushing you down into Zuko’s chest as you felt the hot tears stream down your face, and you tried to stifle the noises escaping your mouth.

Zuko didn’t need to ask. He simply knew. You had always been good at reading each other, and Zuko knew you were bound to break sooner or later. While he admired your strength to no end, what really made Zuko fall in love with you was your ability to be vulnerable with him with such ease.

That didn’t mean he enjoyed seeing you cry.

He held you tightly, his hands trembling as he tried his best to comfort you, his face buried in your sweet-smelling hair and his own tears slipping out of his tightly shut eyes. He wished he could just say the words. He loved you. He loved you like in all the magical stories his mother would read to him when he was small, like his Uncle had loved his late wife, like the moon loved the tide--he loved you. The words tore at his chest from the inside, but he kept them caged inside.

As the sun rose on the two of you, and your sobs turned into sniffles, Zuko pressed one more kiss to your quivering lips, somehow saying everything you needed to hear. He loved you. He wouldn’t say it just yet, but you knew. He had always loved you. The two of you always found each other in spite of the odds, and you had found each other once again. This time, Zuko was determined to keep you together; it was time he put you first. As he lay his head against the stone wall of the cave, holding you to his steady heartbeat, Zuko felt hopeful. “We’ll be okay, angel.” Someday soon.

#plese don't cancel me i know this was hella unedited and a sucky piece to start with but it was in the moment #zuko #zuko imagine #zuko imagines #zuko x reader #zuko x reader imagines #zuko x y/n #atla imagine #atla imagines #atla #zuko self-insert

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years ago

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The Holly And The Ivy

My Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Sigurd/Reader, Sigurd/Margrethe

Summary: “I had this idea where Sigurd (or any of the brothers really) were to marry a Christian, but their marriage is dry and more political than anything, but Ivar is fascinated by her attitude (being opposite of him) and her love for life and simple things. He hears the reader and who she's married to talking about how she loves Christmas and he shuts her down, but Ivar decides to let her pick out a tree from the forest and put it up in the Great Hall and decorate it any way she wants. And the ending would include a kiss under mistletoe? If you can work with it.”

I’m very sorry if I dissapoint you anon, but the story was easier or smoother for me to write as a Modern!AU. I really hope you don’t mind. I can try something in the actual time period still, if you are not happy with au’s.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, passing mentions of abusive relationships (not involving any of the relationsips in the tag btw), angst, my poor attempt at holiday fics or holiday spirit. Also, a part is not smut or explicit but getting closer to it than most of my work, so that too.

A/N: I really hope I don’t dissapoint whoever requested this. Also, I made this way more complicated than it needed to be, bc I always do, and for that I’m also sorry. Hope you like this, thank you for reading!

The title is from a Christmas carol, cause why not lol

Taglist: @1950schick @youbloodymadgenius (I realized you once asked to be tagged on my Vikings works and I forgot, sorry)

“When we are done with this trip we’ll go back home.” Sigurd points out one night as you both say goodnight, in some hotel somewhere in Norway.

“Home?”

“To my mother’s, in a week. Family time and all that.”

Before you are to leave for your own room, you call out, “For Christmas?”

The blond shakes his head, “Yule. You can celebrate your Christmas when we return.”

“That’ll be after the New Year!” You complain softly, offering a smile because you cannot help it.

“I will have to deal with Ivar and my mother, you can deal with this.” Sigurd sentences, the harshness startling you and prompting you to accept the words with a nod.

He mutters a goodnight again, hesitating for a moment on his bedroom door, as if questioning whether he should say sorry or not. You choose to relieve him of that choice, going into your own room and closing the door with a quiet click.

As if it were waiting for the door to close, your phone lights up on your nightstand.

How’s Oslo?

You type a quick response,

You could just ask me if we’ll be attending your mother’s celebrations, you know.

The response takes a while longer, and you cannot help the smile that pulls at your lips.

…Are you?

I expect all those lessons of yours with Floki to come to use. I’m going to need to learn about Yule, apparently.

So I’m supposed to teach you?

Who else?

Your fiancé. Is the reply you get, so fast you think he already knew what your reply was going to be before you even sent it. After a moment, before you can even think on what to answer, another message comes through. Nvm, my brother is useless. I’ll do it.

Your lips pull into a wide and stupid smile, and God, not even the shame at the quick beating of your heart or the warmth that spreads through you could make you be any less thankful for this, if anything. For him.

Thank you. Are you going to be there by Christmas?

This time the answer takes a while longer, and the indication that he is typing appears and disappears a few times.

I don’t know. Before you can ask anything, or send anything, a new message pops up. Princess, this doesn’t get any easier. I don’t know if I can.

Tears rise in your eyes because a part of you knows you’re meant to say goodbye at the end, and every time you are reminded, either by the pain in your own chest or Ivar’s words, that you are on borrowed time; you realize that end is close than you think.

Well, in that case, Merry Christmas, Ivar.

____

You find yourself being driven to that massive and fancy house by your fiancé.

You toy with your engagement ring as the car approaches the house. You know, rationally, that you have nothing to fear. The brothers have never been mean or hurtful -well, most of them haven’t-, and Aslaug has always been courteous and kind and…incredibly performative.

A part of you never ceased to feel like an outsider looking in. Between the pariah that a stupid business practice will be made into Sigurd’s wife, and the silent and soft woman they ignore as if she were another piece of furniture, you’d much rather be the latter.

“Heavy little thing, isn’t it?” Sigurd teases as he turns off the engine, motioning with his head to the rings on your left hand.

You don’t say anything in response, simply getting out of the car in silence. You know he meant well, he always does.

But a part of you that is hopeful and childish and still looks at the snow that starts to fall lightly over the ground as some miracle that means Christmas is upon us…that part of you cannot help but feel bitter about it all. Regretful, or, maybe, resentful.

You never imagined life would be this, engagement -marriage- would be this. You thought of happiness and warmth and fidelity.

Foolish hopes, really. The hopes of a child that watched her parents dance to the light of the Christmas lights, to the music of the soft music her father hummed. Nothing but foolish hopes.

So, when Sigurd steps out and hesitates in offering you his hand, you offer a smile and take his hand in yours, choosing to appreciate that at least the man you will be forced to marry is one you might call a friend, a partner, one day.

It is easy to forget, it is easy to let your heart be light and just enjoy the adorable giggles of Björn and Torvi’s children, the sympathetic smile of Margrethe, the warm and brotherly embrace of Hvitserk.

You are sipping on wine and watching Ubbe throw Asa over his head as she yells for him to throw her higher when a presence stands by your side and a wine glass clinks with your own in silent toast.

“I know you know about Sigurd and me,” Margrethe whispers, “And I want you to know I am sorry. But…I won’t leave him, not until he asks me to.”

If a year ago someone told you that you’d spent Christmas Eve being told by your fiancé’s mistress that she refuses to stop seeing him, you would have assumed the world turned on its head.

It did, but…you still find it in you to love this world that hurts you, this life that tests you.

You offer a smile, “I know you love him. It started as…”

“Gold-digging?” The blonde supplies, a sheepish grimace on her face.

“I wouldn’t be as unkind as to-…”

“You should. That’s what it was,” Her smile loses the edge, and she falters, “At first.”

You accept her words with a nod, and another sip of your wine.

“Then as long as you are discreet, I don’t mind. Keep him happy, Margrethe, he deserves it.”

You start to walk away when she stops you with a call of your name.

“And you don’t? Deserve to be happy, I mean.”

You hesitate, faltering for a few seconds too long. Her blue eyes are big and uncharacteristically honest as they look at you.

“I…”

You take your gaze off hers, because it feels like she will know something she shouldn’t, something you don’t want her to; but your eyes betray you, it seems.

“Oh, him. Well-kept secret, that one,” She states, and when you open your mouth to argue, Margrethe shakes her head, “It’s okay, I don’t…I don’t blame you. Even if I don’t understand at all how that came to be.”

“It’s…”

“Complicated?” The blonde supplies, and you allow yourself a smile, you loosen your shoulders and close your eyes with a deep breath.

“Ivar, he…understands me.”

“But you two are nothing alike,” She states, and at your shrug, concedes, “Maybe that’s why.”

“Maybe,” You offer, and after a breath, because bitter regret at being the thing that keeps her from the man she loves chokes you for a moment, “Margrethe, I…”

“Don’t you even think of apologizing to me,” She laughs, “Gods, woman, you truly are a soft thing, aren’t you?”

“I have the privilege of being it.” You offer with a kind smile, because you’ve seen the scars, because you remember her when she was more fragile.

Margrethe shakes her head, “The burden.” She corrects, and with a soft squeeze of her free hand on your arm, she walks away.

____

It’s on the day before Christmas that the last of the Lothbrok arrives. You walk down the stairs to a very early breakfast, and jump when the front door opens to reveal Ubbe and Ivar.

He came.

“You are up early.” Ubbe comments as he passes you by, dropping a kiss on your cheek.

You greet Ubbe absently, your eyes on his brother. Numbly, you hear him say something about telling Aslaug that Ivar has come home, and quick steps carrying him up the stairs.

Your lips curve into a smile, or at least they try to, “Hi.”

“Hello, Princess,” Ivar greets, what months ago would have been a smirk curving his lips. Now, now it’s more tired and worn than anything. “Just in time for your…Christmas, right?”

You nod, feeling the stupid urge to cry, “Yeah. Means a lot, you know.”

“Well, I could feel you pouting over the phone, love,” His eyes check the stairs before he moves aided by his crutch towards you with a wince of pain -the cold, you remind yourself, the cold making his legs ache-, and once he is before you, a hand that shouldn’t feel as tender as it does cups your cheek and brings your mouth to his. “I couldn’t leave you alone here. You always find ways to embarrass yourself.”

You chuckle, burrowing your head on his chest as you embrace him.

“I may have fucked up a few times,” You concede, eyes closed as you take in his scent, his warmth, “But I’m cute, I get away with a lot of things.”

____

As the timer on your phone dings, you get up from the couch, leaving a warm but strong drink behind, and make your way to the kitchen, ready to take out the sponge cake -no, a voice too alike Ivar corrects you, Bûche de Noël-.

Uneven steps behind you let you know of who walked in behind you, and you turn around with a slight frown on your brows, meaning to ask something before he interrupts you.

“He’s groping and kissing her in front of you, and you say nothing?” Ivar demands, anger shining clearly in his blue eyes.

“Sigurd and Margrethe?” You ask, and shake your head, “Why would I say anything?”

“You know about them.”

“Of course I do. He doesn’t hide it from me, and he shouldn’t hide it from his family. He loves her, and she loves him.”

“You don’t care that he’s humiliating you?” He presses, and you sigh.

“Everyone here knows how things truly are between Sigurd and me.”

Ivar’s mouth curls into a snarl, and cruelty spews from his lips, “Well, if you had let Ragnar know you had no problem letting your husband fuck whoever he wants, you might have been able to marry Björn, like your father wanted.”

You close your eyes, “Don’t be like this.”

“Like what, hm? Like someone that’s watching the woman he-…What am I supposed to be then, hm? What would make you happy?” He accuses, not losing the cruel edge in his voice even if you both know what he stopped himself from admitting. When you don’t answer, Ivar takes a deep and angry breath through his nose, “I’ve always been jealous of my brothers, you know this. Growing up their poor crippled brother is nothing to knowing Sigurd gets you and doesn’t even know what he-…what I’d do to be him.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Make him be the man you deserve!”

“He’s not the man I want,” You point out before you can keep the words trapped behind your lips. Ivar is inexplicably stunned by your words, it seems, and you lower your gaze. Resting your hands on the counter you drop your shoulders and shake your head, letting go of the previous argument and returning to…peace, or as close to it as one can get with Ivar. “Your brother deserves to be as happy as he can, with the woman he loves. It will not hurt me to see him with her. As long as-…”

“‘As long as it is discreet’, yes, I know. My mother and Ragnar have the same agreement.”

“It works for them, does it not?”

Ivar meets your gaze and doesn’t answer for a few moments, long enough that dread sets in your chest and questions arise in your mind.

Eventually, on the side of his jaw the clear tell of gritted teeth, he replies,

“Not as well as you think.”

“Well, Sigurd and I are friends, we…things will work out. They have to.”

“They have to, of course,” He mocks, moving his head as he rolls his eyes, “Anything to keep Ragnar and your father happy, hm?”

“Ivar…”

His eyes search yours, searching for the answer to a question he has not yet asked,

“I-If I asked you not to do this, if I…if I asked you for more time…” He leaves the words hanging between you, and you blink past helpless tears. He knows the answer, you know the answer.

Thankfully, you don’t have to remind him -and yourself- of the world you live in, of the lives you were meant to live, because the door to the kitchen opens and Aslaug walks through.

You keep your eyes firmly set on the tray before you, even though you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you, demanding an answer. When he realizes he will not get one, he grunts, a clenched fist hitting the counter once before he walks away.

“I’m sorry.” You offer the matriarch as she keeps her all-seeing eyes on you, but Aslaug offers a smile. A fake one, but a smile nonetheless.

“The cold gets to Ivar, it makes him irritable. It is not your fault.” She soothes, but the smile you offer her in thanks still trembles. You both know these are lies you are sharing with one another, and though it makes you falter and stumble, Aslaug moves gracefully from one lie to the next.

“I’ll-…” You point behind you, to the living room, but the woman shakes her head.

“Surely you have time to help me with this?” She asks. It feels like walking into a wolf’s den when you nod your head and approach her.

“Of course.”

She watches raptly as you assist her in preparing the Yule Log, and you focus on doing your best to keep your hands from trembling.

“For someone that doesn’t follow the Gods, you know a lot about tradition, girl.”

“I…It was the least I could do, learning about what is important to your family, to Sigurd.” You offer, and whatever she -who always has the look of someone that sees beyond what normal eyes can- can sense in your words makes Aslaug stop.

She turns to you, and surprises you with a hand on your cheek. The woman towards over you, but the gentleness in her touch, the warmth in her eyes, they help you to not feel threatened.

“Still loving the world that hurts you, sweet thing?”

“It’s all I know how to do.”

Aslaug’s smile is almost sad when she looks into your eyes, “To love, yes, I know. Wish I saw that sooner,” You don’t know what to answer to that, so you offer her only a shaky smile and a shrug. Aslaug chuckles gently, “And you love my son, don’t you?”

The terrifying thought that she knows what she’s doing when not saying any names, the realization nothing gets past her and neither did whatever is between you and Ivar, it all settles in your stomach with a dead weight.

Still, whether she asks about Sigurd or Ivar, the answer is the same.

“Yes.”

One as a friend, a partner, a man you can learn to respect and build a life alongside of. The other, as everything you ever wanted, as someone that will always make you wonder about the ‘what if’s.

She shakes off whatever takes a hold of her, and before you can ask what she means, why it pains her, she steps back from you and turns her back to you.

“You know, Ragnar isn’t the only one in this family with an eye for business. I was once in the same position you are now, the heiress to an empire,” Aslaug’s smile seems to thaw as she hands you a refilled glass of wine to match hers. Resting her backside on the counter behind her, she continues, “My parents were able to teach me a few valuable lessons before their death.

She grabs your left hand, stopping you. Her eyes look deeply into yours, but her thumb rolls your engagement ring on your finger.

“Like how to understand when I can’t make any more moves. And when I can change the wording in a deal to make it favor me.

Your lips part, you think to say something, but Aslaug stops you with a smile.

“Let’s hope you’ve learned the same lessons, my dear.”

____

Ubbe is dancing with Asa standing on his feet, and you watch with a smile on your face as the family enjoys time together, and celebrates the holidays in their own way.

A part of you misses the Christmas lights, the decorations you’d help your parents put up when you were a kid. A part of you misses how simple life was back then, how in this time of year you could forget there was a world past the snow drifting down and the warmth of a hearth and a home.

Ivar comes right up to you, but doesn’t sit next to you, choosing to remain standing.

“Grab your coat,” He orders, and at your confused frown, he rolls his eyes and amends, “Please.”

The most insincere please in the history of pleases, but you know you get more than most, so you don’t comment on it.

Still, you have to ask, “Why?”

“I-…a surprise,” He says, and insists you move with a gesture of his head, “Come on.”

You follow him to the small house the Lothbroks have by the pool, a cozy little home of big windows. When Ivar motions for you to go in ahead of him, a part of you is suspicious, but you still skip your way inside and try not to ask questions as to how it is so warm here when it should be vacant.

Ivar turns the lights on, and you find in the middle of the living room a Christmas tree.

The tree is bare, but still lively and familiar.

You turn to Ivar with tears in your eyes, because you cannot help it.

“You did this for me?”

“You love your Christmas,” He mumbles, embarrassed at the reaction his -to some, uncharacteristic- thoughtfulness got out of you. “I figured you deserved to have some of it with you here.”

“Did you buy Christmas lights?” You ask softly, almost moving up and down in the balls of your feet in excitement, eyeing the bags on a chair nearby.

Ivar chuckles, endeared, and nods, “Go ahead, Princess.”

You skip your way to the bags, quickly looking over the goods and already planning on how to decorate it, how to make it look pretty, how to make it yours.

You don’t truly know how long you spend on it, gleefully putting up Christmas lights, and little ornaments. During the whole time you spent excitedly decorating the tree, you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you, and when you look back at him you find him staring with a strange softness in his gaze.

You choose not to think too much on it, and instead ask his opinion on the decorations, that he gives gruffly and with a very poor attempt at making you believe that -either because Christmas grew on him, which you find very unlikely, or because of your own happiness- he isn’t happy to be here.

____

You smile at the warm and twinkling lights, and burrow closer to Ivar’s warmth, refusing to take your eyes off the dancing lights and refusing to put your feet back on the ground.

Refusing to step out of the fantasy that this could be your life.

Ivar shifts his position, and you lift your head from the juncture between his neck and shoulder and meet his eyes in question.

His eyes give away so much, always have, at least to you. And now they reflect the warm sparkle of the Christmas lights, and they reflect hesitation, fear, uncertainty, love.

Before you can ask what is wrong, Ivar leans in, his hand previously around you tangling in your hair as his lips claim yours.

His kiss is always demanding, but this time it holds desperation in the way Ivar begs for your lips to part with his own, it holds an urgency in the way his tongue dances with yours, it holds a ragged edge in the shaky breath that he lets out through his nose, it holds a goodbye in the way he ends the kiss as if forcing himself to pull away from you.

You try getting your breath under control and your voice to be yours again, but he’s so close, and warm, and yours; and all you want to do is kiss him again.

Kiss him again, and make the furrow in his brow, the pain in his eyes, go away. Kiss him again, and pretend you are not living on borrowed time.

So you do.

You kiss him, and take control of the kiss, and make him groan lightly against your mouth when you tug on his hair, and whimper his name against his own when you straddle him and feel him getting hard underneath you.

When your need for breath makes you part from his kiss, Ivar wastes no time trailing fervent kisses down your neck, panting breaths against the hot skin that he kisses and licks and bites.

You moan his name, forgetting everything but the touch of his lips on your skin, forgetting everything but the scent and taste and feel of him.

Either at the sound of your voice or the grind of your hips against his hardening cock, Ivar’s breath stutters and he breathes your name back at you, voice low.

His brow rests against your collarbone as he takes deep breaths, and your fingers toy at the hair that flows down to his shoulders.

“You know…” He murmurs, pressing a kiss that makes you shiver right on the dip between your collarbones, “There’s nothing I want more right now than marking this pretty neck of yours. Leaving you with…” His teeth scrape against your skin, a tease both for you and himself. Ivar does it a few more times, and moves up your neck again. Your breath shudders past your lips, and you tug on his hair to remind him of what he was saying. You always did love hearing him speak. For all the months you spend apart, his voice telling you what he’d do to you, what he’d have you do to him, is all that keeps you warm. Ivar chuckles, but continues, “Leaving you with my mark all over you, where everyone can see, so…so that they don’t doubt you’re mine.

His hands tighten on your waist, before they travel down, caressing your thighs as he sighs.

“But you’re not, are you? And I can’t…I can’t do any of that. I can’t-…”

You interrupt him before his thoughts can get ahead of him, before he can twist himself into knots about the situation you are both in.

“I am yours. Only yours.” You remind him softly, your lips by his ear. You lean back so you can meet his eyes, and seal your promise with a soft kiss over his lips.

Ivar’s eyes search yours when you pull back, with the same look as before. Uncertain, lost, tender and yet almost sad.

“Marry me.” He whispers, keeping his eyes on yours.

“What?” You squeak, eyes wide. He couldn’t have…he knows that��none of this makes any sense.

“Marry me instead of Sigurd,” He insists, and as if remembering the part he forgot, he curses and hurries to fetch something from his pocket. He offers you a simple but beautiful ring, and swallows, “I-I can make you happier than he ever could, I…I love you.

I know you can, you already do.

I love you too.

But you can’t say any of that, because your breaths are shallow and your head is filled with thoughts and…and you need space.

You scramble to stand, to put distance between the two of you. After a few controlled breaths, you return your eyes to Ivar, whose hand has now fallen back to his lap even if he still holds on to the delicate ring.

He grits his teeth, the obvious tell at the side of his jaw, and he seems to want to divert his eyes from you, but he only blinks and keeps certain eyes on you.

“Your father wants you to marry one of Ragnar’s sons, he doesn’t care who. I…have talked with my father, he agrees that if you want to, we can…” He licks his lips in a nervous gesture, “Mother says any backlash from breaking the engagement can be handled.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“Of course I have, y-you’d be Sigurd’s wife if I didn’t think of something,” A twitch of anger, of uncertainty, of fear, on his face, and then he amends, “You still can be. But I want you to be able to choose.”

Choose me, is what he doesn’t say.

Your heart is lodged in your throat, and you try a few times before you can finally speak,

“Ivar, we haven’t…it’s been only a few months.”

“And it will not work out, that’s what you’re saying?” He huffs, defensive, “It won’t work out if you marry my brother either.”

“I-…this-…”

“Stop thinking of excuses,” He snaps, gritted teeth and hurt written in his eyes, “I’ll handle everything, no matter your answer. Just…just give me an answer, Princess.”

____

It is open ended cause there’s two ends to this, I wanted to leave the choice to you guys! So, follow the link for the epilogue of your choice:

Will you accept the proposal and be bound to Ivar, for better or worse?

Or will you stay with Sigurd, and be content with companionship and friendship?

Hope you liked this, even if it wasn’t very holiday-ey. I wish you all very happy holidays and a great (or decent, after 2020 I’m happy with decent) 2021!!

(Ik it’s like the 13th and I’m gonna be very much around here posting and bothering the whole lot of ya till the holidays and beyond, but holiday fic and all that, ‘twas the perfect time to send good wishes and all. Love ya!)

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar

103 notes · View notes

444piscesprincess · 4 years ago

Text

childhood friends to lovers/growing up together sterek fic reclist

uhh this kinda got a lil angsty but i recommend you pick a growing up together fic and listen to this song i promise you will not regret it

https://open.spotify.com/track/5Dz8nrwQlPLE68WaTEIqY5?si=aogjMc1aToSALmAlfQOR7A

anyways as usual check tags please!!

(click on the title for the fic)

you know you're on my mind

bibliosexual

Summary:

If there’s one thing Derek’s learned in life, it’s that crushing on someone who lives on an entire other fucking continent is probably a bad idea.

(hs!au + texting!au + childhood friends to lovers the ULTIMATE fluff fic)

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) (series)

yodasyoyo

Summary:

Stiles is six years old when he first hears Derek's voice in his head.

Or what happens if you have a soulmate bond, in a universe where soulmate bonds don't exist?

Up Down Lock Unlock

isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Summary:

“Why are you going into grandma Ito’s apartment?” he asked.

Derek turned to him, key sliding into the lock. “What do you mean?” He tried to turn it, but the key wasn’t budging. Maybe the lock was sticking again, it’d been doing that the past few days.

Stiles was staring at him like Derek was stupid.

Derek did not appreciate sass from a ten year old.

“That’s grandma Ito’s place.”

“No,” Derek said calmly, pulling the key out and then shoving it back in, wiggling it a little when it continued to refuse to unlock the door. “This is my place.”

“I think you’re on the wrong floor then, because that apartment belongs to grandma Ito.”

(time travel counts as childhood friends right?)

the difference between going back and going home

thepsychicclam

Summary:

Stiles and Derek were inseparable growing up, but then college, jobs, and life happened. When Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills a decade later, he doesn't expect to reconnect with Derek, and he sure doesn't expect to fall in love with him.

It's Such a Gas When You Bring Up the Past

orphan_account

Summary:

Stiles finds a box of old photo albums that dredge up the sweet, the funny, the adorable, and the mildly heartwrenching parts of his and Derek's past.

(mainly a friends fic but its too cute to not include)

It's Always Been You

charlesdk

Summary:

Stiles' love life was practically non-existing, always had been. He was always terrible at picking up clues when people hit on him (it had happened, Erica had been witness to it and had been the one to let him know it was happening in the first place) because he never expected anyone to do so.

He wasn't the most desirable guy around, he knew that. He was loud, extremely nerdy, never knew when to stop talking, not exactly much of a looker if you asked him, the list was endless.

Point was, he never did know when someone was flirting with him. Which was probably how he ended up in the fight that would change his life for the better.

Lead You Home Again

GotTheSilver

Summary:

The first time Derek meets Stiles, the kid’s brown eyes are wide, and he’s staring up at him with a mischievous grin as he tugs at the arm of Derek’s first ever Batman figure like he’s trying to separate it from Batman’s body.

An alternate take on Teen Wolf, wherein Stiles and Derek are childhood friends, and things unfold from there.

Kingdom By The Sea

kilaem

Summary:

Lydia grabs his arm and pulls him down in the seat next to her. “When the hell did you find time to bag a guy like Hale?”

“We’re friends,” Stiles feels his face heat up, and then the team are running out and Derek sees him and smiles. His blush gets worse.

“Oh really?”

“Our moms were friends, okay? We’ve been in diapers together.”

“I thought you two hated each other.”

Those That Bump In The Night

bleep0bleep

Summary:

A boy’s head appears upside down, hanging off the bed. “Is anyone there?” he calls out curiously, looking right at Derek’s eyes. Caught, then. The protocol for being deliberately seen by a child is just to look as strange and fearsome as possible. No one would believe them, anyways. But Derek is tired, and he’s been running and scared, and now he just kind of flickers, curling out a tendril of dark smoke, hoping that he’s a little bit scary. No such luck. The boy’s eyes widen. “Oooh, are you the bogeyman?” “Bogeyperson,” Derek says, before he can help himself.

When Stiles was a boy, he had an imaginary friend named Derek. Ten years later, Derek comes back, and is very, very real.

Five Times Derek and Stiles Kissed For Practice (And One Time They Didn't)

mikkimouse

Summary:

In which Derek and Stiles grow up together and practice kissing, roughly in that order.

216 + 1: Words To Say Instead of I Love You

briggs

Summary:

Derek and Stiles have been best friends for fourteen years. They have their differences, sure, but it's never been a question for them. Their friendship has been the most solid thing in their lives -- until suddenly it isn't anymore.

Funny how just a few choice words can throw fourteen years of friendship off-balance.

a collection of "Bro, That's Gay" one-shots that actually ended up turning into a concrete storyline.

hope is the thing with feathers (part of a series)

ShanaStoryteller

Summary:

Stiles is ten when he saves the Hales from their burning home and Derek from a wolfsbane bullet, and this establishes a pattern that seem to continue indefinitely.

"Then he's facing a burning home, and he wraps the hood of his sweatshirt around his mouth before he pushes the door open and steps inside. There's Mr. Hale asleep - he hopes asleep - on the couch, next to - Stiles thinks that's his brother but there are so many Hales, who can keep track. He rushes over and starts shaking him, can see the rise and fall of the man's chest so he knows he's alive, but he's not waking up. He shoves away his hood so he can shout, "Mr. Hale! You have to get up, there's a fire! Mr. Hale, get up!" Nothing, he's not even twitching, both of them taking in deep even breaths like they're having the most peaceful of rests, and Stiles is going to cry. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" There's a moment, where all Stiles can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and not the roar of the flames or the creak of wood, then with a violent, silent pop it's all back and both of the men are gasping awake, eyes open and jumping to their feet. "

(one of my favourite fics like EVER)

it came from the trees

whatshouldntbe

Summary:

“Don’t worry, Scott caught me up on everything,” Kira assures with a bubbly smile via video-chat. “You and Derek, huh? I probably should have seen that coming. I always thought it might be Cora, but Derek was the one that looked at you how I used to look at you.”

Stiles goes a little pink. “It’s still kinda new but, yeah. I really like him. He’s...” Beautiful. Patient. Smart. Painfully honest. Sweet.“...a total dork.”

Kira laughs and laughs. When she gets herself together, she replies, “Yeah, those little hearts and stars in your eyes definitely say different."

Stiles moves from the shiny, fast-paced lifestyle of Los Angeles to the foggy, sleepy town of Beacon Hills so his dad can become the new sheriff. Newly fifteen, he does his best to finish out his freshman year of high school (by staying under the radar) when he suddenly becomes the Beyoncé of the Supernatural community. And, without much prompting on his part, he ends up catching the eye of one of the most prominent Werewolf families in all of North America. It literally all starts with a stuffed animal(s).

(oh god this fic is the literal best even though its abandoned it ends at okay-ish place. this is one of the best hale family characterisations ive ever read. if you squint it can be a childhood friends to lovers fic but im including it anyway bc its amazing)

Promises aren't Meant to be Broken

paradis

Summary:

“Thanks for saving me,” Stiles blurts out, staring up at Laura, wide eyed.

Laura grins. “I like you,” she says, “we’ll be friends.”

(more laura and stiles besties centric but totally worth a read)

The Things We See

MelodramaticSalad

Summary:

Stiles grew up in the life of knowing that there was always more to life than what others saw with a first glance. Even as a child he saw things that no one else seemed to and always had a fascination with the unusual.

Some considered him an unusual child, but Claudia welcomed every single quirk her son displayed. His mother had a few special talents of her own and thrilled her to see it in her son as well. She'd raised Stiles to always keep his mind open and as grew and started to display his powers, she began to teach him how to use them. She even taught Stiles about werewolves at a young age, his infatuation with them growing once he had learned the truth about her closest friend.

Stiles spent nearly every possible moment that he could roaming the Hale house, following after the middle child most of the time. Derek was three years older than Stiles, but the bond they developed with each other was something their mothers considered out of a story book. Like Derek, Stiles was sensitive to his emotions, but unlike Derek, Stiles didn't need a scent to figure it out. He could feel it.

take me back

matildajones

Summary:

“I dare you to kiss me,” Stiles taunts, and he’s not expecting the way Derek says a naughty word under his breath and then leans forward.

Stiles yelps. He just dodges Derek’s mouth before he’s laughing wildly and running through the trees, calling out a series of ew ew ew as Derek chases him back home.

#sterek #sterek fic recs #childhood friends to lovers #au #growing up toget #reclist #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #hale pack

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lilolilyr · 3 years ago

Text

Tagged by @ongreenergrasses, thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Way over 300! Tho it feels like it's been at 300sth so long by now, it'll be weird to look at once it hits 400 :D

Btw, funny how this tag meme asks for so much stuff that can be looked up by just... looking at my Ao3... without asking for any commentary by me? Lol

Anyhow, rest under the readmore bc this is 20 questions and Long!

Personal post - do not reblog

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

995596 - just a few more ficlets or 1 longer fic, and I've got a Million! Hey, maybe I should try to write one with... 4404? (I'd need to ask a calculator xD) words exactly... not rly a hardship with how many drabble exercises (exact wordcounts, 100 is the most used, I also do 200, 500, longest was 10000 exactly lol) I've already done... we'll see!

Over 400k for this year alone, and over half of that is my actual writing (not translations etc), I'm so proud! Last year I only barely hit 200k and that included a lot of translating work

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Again, one could look this up in my works filtered - sorted by kudos? But all three of my incubus!jaskier witcher series are in it, part 2 of the series is highest with 1091 kudos, then a Venom halloween oneshot, and 'Belonging', a fluffy snake-crowley piece from my ineffable spouses series (yes, sth with under 1k words - 666 to be exact - is in the top 5... my poor longfics lol)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

...I try to? But atm I have 202 unanswered (and I always click 'mark read' on replies so these are all comments on my own fic) even tho I told myself I'd not let it get past 200, and now I'm doing a tag meme instead of replying to anything so ummmm

Edit: 203 unread now

But I do love love love all the comments I get! And while atm it's still semi-manageable, if it ever gets to the point where I really can't manage to reply to everyone cause it's too much, i'd rly take that as a compliment lol :D I'd still try to reply to the longer and/or more thought through comments tho :)

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

*thinks* I have an MCD fic? But not only is that very much a case of ~posting a draft version that's barely in complete sentences insgead of taking the time to turn it into a real longfic~, I also just killed off the mlm couple I only semi care about and left the wlw couple with a happy/hopeful (rly don't remember) ending, so... hm idk whether that counts for angsty ending

Apart from that... I dunno, I just prefer my babies to be happy and fluffy? *.* i remember a mirror milippa in the mirrorverse one where in the end Michael is worried about lying to Philippa about her identity... there are some angsty TOG and Gomens ones but I think they end happy-ish (my memory is. Bad. but looking through my 'angst' tag I just saw a lot of h/c and 'angst with a happy ending')

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

They're all happy???!?

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Ahahahahahhahahaahaha

Check this out

I need you to know that all the works in that collection take part in the same universe (or rather, multiverse), and are alltogether just scratching the surface of my gigantic headcanon multiverse that I've been building in my mind since I was like 10

Actual crossovers other than that I don't remember writing

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yeh but I only remember clicking 'delete comment', as it should be

Recently I've just gotten a bunch of 'you Need to continue this' and 'omg why isn't there more' or 'this shouldn't end' type comments, not hate, probably not meant maliciously, but So Annoying (maybe espesh bc I don't want to just hit delete on these, but I also don't want to pretend it's fine, but I also don't have the energy for a fight, and trying to explain why that behaviour is entitled and annoying and that I write what I want to write and nice comments should praise what I actually have written, and hoping that they understand and don't get mad is... hard.)

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Check out my rated E and rated M in my works

Mostly femslash lately, but I did also write other smut in the past

Most is a bit dominant/submissive play, but I do also like good fluffy smut with feelings! Best in combo, really :D

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not in the sense of pretending someone else wrote it (that i know of), but posted to other sites without my permission - writing 'don't repost to other sites' etc did Not help, they even copied those tags lol, so I just let it be, choosing my battles wisely etcetc, I'd prefer for my fic not to be cross-posted by others bc then I can't edit or otherwise influence the fic anymore and don't see everyone's reactions to it, but as long as it's not someone pretending they wrote it, I only semi care, not enough to fight it tbh

PSA: I Only post fics to Ao3 (and WIPs/prompt fills to tumblr&discord at times), if you see them somewhere else that's Not Me and you'd do me a favour by checking them out on ao3 and kudosing&commenting there instead :)

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yup, one to Russian a while back, a floreleine (Gunpowder Milkshake) one to Korean just today actually, and I translated a bunch to German myself

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I made a TOG fic together with @cinnamonplums, well mostly I wrote and she made the art :D

Trying to remember whether I ever actually co-wrote anything... don't think so?

13. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Don't make me choose!!!

Atm Milippa is OTP bc I'm busy writing them for @discoveryfemslashfortnight (this is not a post to reblog for the fortnight), but I'm also still rly into Floreleine, Bering&Wells and Andromaquynh and Andronilynh, and I read a lot of Mirandy lately

All-time favs I'm not rly active in atm but will always be dear to me are the ineffable spouses, clintcoulson, heistwives, gosh so many more I'll stop here tho xD

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

A Heistwives Kinda Job immediately comes to mind

I also rly want to finish at least one cohesive original-ish storyline for the lverse that I already linked for the crossover question above, but I just have so much backstory (it's been over 10 years!!!) and it's... hard...

And everything else that's still WIP and untouched for more than a few months will probably have the same fate lol

Also have a few that haven't even seen the light of day at all, most recent a Mirandy ~what if Andy had been pregnant when Miranda hired her and how would it change the entire storyline~ bit - I wrote it in bulletpoints in one go as quickly as I could, I know I had the finished product in my mind, I don't remember anything now and don't feel like going through the bulletpoints painstakenly filling in the blanks

15. What are your writing strengths?

Writing one-shots quickly in one go

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Forgetting everything about a fic if I leave it in a draft for a second too long

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

There are many ways to go about it, and I think they all work (depending on the fic and the length and relevance of the dialogue)

I tend to leave single sentences as is, and for longer and important sequences use cursive and 'they said in xylanguage'.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The Hobbit apparently? I remember thinking that fic was so long lol, it's 3k

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Kat/Ana from Reef Break, they have Such Shippable Chemistry, and it would totally fit Kat's player personality to bang both siblings (she's canonically friends with benefits with Ana's half-brother)... but the ship has one (1!) fic on Ao3 *cries*

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

TOG Andromaquynh longfic In Your Stead has had the title since last year and probably for a while to come! I loved the story idea so much I really worked with several drafts and only! worked on that fic until it was finished so I wouldn't get distracted & forget about it, and the result was wonderful.

Tagging, if you want to do it, @sarah-fiers @purlturtle @cookie-sheet-toboggan @ussjellyfish @onaperduamedee @startrekgeorgiouery @rosalie-starfall @lonely-night @banashee @xvnot15 and everyone else who sees this

Questions to copy:

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? 5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? 6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? 7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written? 8. Have you ever received hate on a fic? 9. Do you write smut? If so what kind? 10. Have you ever had a fic stolen? 11. Have you ever had a fic translated? 12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? 13. What’s your all time favorite ship? 14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? 15. What are your writing strengths? 16. What are your writing weaknesses? 17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? 18. What was the first fandom you wrote for? 19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to? 20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

#tagging meme #tagged #mine #ongreenergrasses #ao3 tag #ao3 link #lilolilyrae #sept'21 #personal #Personal 2021 #28.09.21

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