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oh-my-damn · 2 years

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Good Places in Boston

Pairing: Colin Shea x Bestfriend/Neighbor!Reader

Summary: Your bestfriend and neighbor Colin comes to you in agony when it becomes a physical problem to think of you with anyone else.

Warnings: Angst, yelling, getting in a fight. Friends to lovers type beat, Colin is such a major fuckboy and reader is sick of it and wallows a bit in self pity (with wine lmao), fluff, this part is clean but I would def be up to writing a part 2 if it's wanted!

Wordcount: 5100

The beautiful divider is by @firefly-graphics

"Colin, what are you doing here?"

Colin sends you his characteristic grin, his fingers drumming on the pillar in your apartment as he leans against it, "Well, I uh.. I needed an escape."

"An escape from what, exactly?" You ask as you take a bite out of your breakfast bagel, quirking a brow in his direction.

"Well, I uhm... Have a girl at my place."

You roll your eyes, "Oh, so you invaded my private space to avoid the girl you just slept with... Again."

Colin laughs, "When you put it that way, it makes me sound like a total asshole."

"Maybe that's because you are a total asshole," you quip, sipping your orange juice, "I've told you numerous times that I don't like when you use me like this."

"Hey!" Colin immediately exclaims, "I'm not using you! I would never!"

Your eyes trail over his naked torso, the sweatpants he's wearing hanging so low on his hips, you're surprised they haven't slipped off already.

You place a hand on your hip as you look at him pointedly, "Sure you wouldn't. Tell me again why you're at my apartment at eight in the morning?"

Colin eyes you for a moment before he sighs, "Fine. You're smarter than me and figured me out. Is that what you want to hear?"

"No," you snort, tidying up your kitchen as you speak with your back turned to him, "What I'd like to hear would be; 'I met this girl and she's amazing and I'm gonna marry her because she's the best.' But for some reason, you keep ruining that."

Colin scoffs obnoxiously, "Why do you keep holding on to that fantasy?"

"Because I know you," you reply as you turn around to face him, "And I know you deserve an amazing person in your life. As your friend, I have a right to believe that. And I also have a right to believe that you're sabotaging yourself by sleeping with random girls every night."

Colin groans, "Will you fucking quit it, already? I don't know where you got the idea that I need to settle down when I've always told you that I don't want to settle down."'

"Right, you want to keep sleeping with strange women every night because it makes you feel better about yourself."

"Exactly!" Colin grins, "I love that about me."

You snort again, "Well I hate that about you. It's one of the things I tolerate about our friendship."

Colin walks up to you, plucking the breakfast bagel out of your hand before he takes a bite, "Please, shut it. It's not like you're any better."

"Better than you?" You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him, "Come on, Col. You must know I'm better than you when it comes to this."

"When we met each other you were just as much of a slut as I was."

"Yeah!" You exclaim loudly, "Five years ago! Did you not realize that it's been that long? Or do you just not believe that people change?"

Colin rolls his eyes, "No, what I don't believe is the fact that you're now suddenly celibate because you want to get married. That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

You frown, turning your back to him as you put another bagel in the toaster, "Well, just because you don't believe it, it doesn't mean it isn't true."

"Oh come on!" Colin laughs, placing a hand on your shoulder, "You're so full of shit. I saw a guy leave your place yesterday."

You whip around to face him, your eyes narrowing, "Yeah, you did. The same guy that's been leaving my place for the last couple of months."

"What?"

"I'm dating someone," you say, frowning as your eyes meet his, "I've been dating Robert for months now."

"You're dating someone?"

"Yes!" You reply, rolling your eyes, "And you'd know more about him if you ever asked. But you never do! All you ever talk about are the random girls you fuck. Or Mexican wrestling."

"Wait.." He drags out, tilting his head as his eyes narrow, "So you're telling me you're dating someone? Someone serious? And you have been for months?"

"Oh my god, Colin," you sigh, stuffing the bagel into his mouth, "Yes, I am dating. And I have been for a while. Why is that so hard to believe?"

Colin pulls the bagel out of his mouth as he takes a step back, "It's not hard to believe.."

"Then what's with the attitude?"

"There's no attitude," he quickly interjects, "I was just.. I don't know.. Surprised."

"Well, you wouldn't be if our entire friendship wasn't based off of you and your conquests."

"Come on," Colin scoffs, "You know that's not true."

"Isn't it?" You immediately reply, "Because it seems to be the focus of our friendship."

Colin's brows furrow, "Yeah, but not on purpose.. That's just how it's always been.."

"Yeah," you scoff, turning your back once again to butter your fresh bagel when it pops out of the toaster, "That's how it's always been because I'm a good friend and that's what you need. The only times I basically see you anymore is when you come to hide out at my place. I don't feel the need to tell you about what's going on with me."

"Why not?"

You frown, looking at him over your shoulder, "Because you don't care about what's going on with me."

Just as you turn your back to him to focus on the task at hand, he replies, "I care."

"Colin," you groan, shaking your head as you focus on your bagel, "The only important person in your life is you. And I'm okay with that. I've accepted it. But don't fucking lie to me, I don't like being lied to."

"That's not true. And I'm not lying."

You scoff again, turning around to look at him as your arms cross over your chest, "So you're telling me that I hurt your feelings by not telling you about the guy I'm seeing? Come on, Col, we both know you don't give a shit."

"I do give a shit, though," he grits out, glaring at you, "And I can't believe you didn't tell me."

"Will you stop it? It's not that big of a deal. Can you just go back to being your normal self, please?"

"I am being normal."

"No, you're not," you huff, "You're being weird.. And I don't like it."

"Well, excuse me for having a reaction to you telling me you're dating someone," he loudly exclaims, turning his back to you before he starts walking away, "And that you apparently kept it secret because I'm such an awful friend."

"Colin-"

"No!" He yells, glaring at you, "Fuck off. You've said enough. I should leave."

He marches to your door stubbornly, making you huff out, "I thought you needed to hide out here so you wouldn't have to deal with your one night stand? Isn't that the only reason you ever come to see me?"

"Fuck you!" He yells, slamming the door behind him as he walks out.

"Well, fuck you too," you mumble, walking back to your kitchen to finish eating your bagel.

Five entire days went by without you seeing Colin.

That's the longest you've gone without seeing him since college. On the second day, you contemplated reaching out, but you also knew you'd done literally nothing wrong.

You were just being honest.

Truth is, you loved Colin.

In fact, you'd loved him since the second day you met him. And for the rest of your college days, you were also in love with him. But the closer you got, the more it faded.

The more you watched him hook up with a new girl every night, most of the time right in front of you, the more it went away.

When you found an available apartment in his building, you didn't know if you'd actually stay friends. You always suspected he just kept you close by in college to hit on your friends.

But then you moved in across the hall from him and he decided to keep you around. But he mainly did it so he'd have somewhere to go when he needed to hide from the women he brought home.

To be fair, usually when he'd come by, you two would end up spending most of the day together. You'd watch Mexican wrestling (he's obsessed with it and it's actually quite entertaining, so you didn't mind), or he'd play you music he'd been working on. Sometimes you'd both be doing separate things but within the same space, sharing a comfortable silence. Or you'd watch movies or simply just talk.

But there had always been a.. distance, between the two of you. He always had a hard time opening up, sharing parts of himself. You knew you meant something to him because on rare occasions, he would show a softer side to himself. Like when his dad died. He came to you for support and you did everything to help in any way you could, and it helped you get to know him a little better. He wasn't as guarded as usual.

But eventually, things went back to normal. Which meant he went back to hiding out in your place. You didn't mind that he was hiding, it wasn't about that. It was about the fact that it felt like that was the only reason he came to see you.

In the three years you've lived across the hall from him, he's had countless one night stands. Several times a week, if he wasn't working too much or was too busy to go out. It never grows old - at least not to him.

But it did to you.

Being in love with him did too.

It wasn't more than a few months ago when you decided that the dwindling feelings you harbored for him were not healthy.

That was the night you went on your first date with Robert.

And he's great; charming, handsome.. The only thing that's missing is that feeling inside.

The one you feel whenever Colin is around.

"I can come up if you want me to."

You're smiling politely up at Robert as you finish another very adequate date, but you're just not in the mood.

You haven't been in the mood for the past few days, but you don't really know why..

Actually, you do.

You know exactly why.

But you refuse to admit it.

"I'd love that, truly," you reply with a small smile, "But I'm feeling pretty.. icky, from the food tonight. I don't know, maybe I ate the wrong thing.. And I feel completely knackered out. I'm sorry Robert, is it okay that I call a raincheck on your offer?"

Robert just offers you a warm smile, "Yeah, of course. Don't worry about it."

He really is a very sweet guy. Not everyone would take a rejection that nicely. You've only been seeing each other for a few months, and it's not exactly serious; you haven't had the talk yet, and you're not exclusive with each other, either.

But he's nice and kind. Very sweet and understanding. And he's making an effort to get to know you.

Robert leans down to peck your cheek, making your smile widen before he pulls back.

"I'll see you later this week."

Once you're inside your building, you trudge up the stairs. You lied when you said you were feeling sick, but you weren't lying when you said you were tired.

Your body feels heavy, your head groggy as you walk up to your place, your mind wandering aimlessly.

You keep thinking back to the date with Robert, and how truly sweet and kind he is, but for some reason you also keep focusing on the fact that something is missing.

And once that thought hits you, your mind inevitably wanders back to Colin.

Fucking asshole. First he infiltrates your apartment and now your mind.

You shake your head and sigh once you reach the final flight of stairs. But you immediately tense up when you hear an oddly familiar sound.

Your eyes dart up at the sound of a high-pitched giggle, immediately landing on a tall, beautiful blonde, practically hanging off Colin's side.

You roll your eyes as you continue walking, glancing shortly at Colin as he fumbles with his keys to get the door open.

You walk past them, your eyes catching Colin's for a split second before he darts his away, back to focusing on getting his front door open.

You walk to your door, swiftly unlocking it, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you hear the girl giggle out a "Colin, come ooon," before you slam the door shut.

Wine.

You need wine. Only wine can fix this dark cloud seemingly permanently hovering over you.

You hang up your coat before you patter into your bedroom, immediately changing into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. You swiftly move to your kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine and a large glass, and then you plop down on your couch.

Before you know it, you've drank half a bottle while watching some mindless rom-com on TV.

Is this really what it's come to?

You have a perfectly sweet guy, who would have loved to spend the night with you, and yet you're sitting here, moping on the couch and drinking wine. Alone.

Stupid Colin. Stupid Colin with his beautiful stupid face, and sculpted abs, and firm chest, and perfectly round ass, with his large hands that could-

Stop it!

You shake your head at your thoughts, topping off your glass of wine. You need to focus, need to get your shit together.

Maybe it's time you find somewhere else to live.

Yeah. That'll fix it.

You immediately pick up your laptop from the coffee table, perching it on top of your lap as you start typing.

Good places in Boston

Yikes. Okay, that's not going to work. You don't have that kind of money..

Cheap places in Boston.

Double yikes. You want to run away from your distractions, not get murdered..

You sigh, looking through some of the places as you take another sip of wine. Your fingers move over the keyboard before you can even stop yourself.

Places to live in Boston when you're trying to run away from your feelings

You chuckle at the fact that a few options actually pop up, immediately clicking through the pictures.

But then you almost spill your glass of wine on your computer when your front door is suddenly pushed open.

"Alright, we need to talk!"

Colin loudly slams the door shut behind him as he walks inside, making you snap your head to the side to look at him.

"Col, what the fuck?!" You exclaim, placing your laptop down on the coffee table, "What the hell? I thought I locked it, how are you in here?"

"No," he stomps inside, sending you a pointed look, "You didn't. Just like you never do. Sometimes I think you have a death wish."

You roll your eyes and pull your feet up on the couch, tilting your head as your eyes narrow, "Thanks for the lesson, I'll remember to lock it next time. Maybe that'll keep the assholes out."

"That's it!" He yells, crossing his arms as he walks up to you and stands in front of the couch, "We need to talk!"

"Oh, you think so? About what?" You retort, mirroring his expression as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Yes, I do!" He exclaims, clearly missing the sarcastic tone of your voice.

"What are you doing here?" You frown, glaring at him, "I'm pretty sure I saw you with a date. Shouldn't you be entertaining her?"

"I sent her home," he huffs, his stance tense. Your eyes momentarily gaze over him, noticing his grey sweatpants and his t-shirt. But then you inwardly sigh when you spot the text written on it; Free Licks.

"Okay," you sass, "And what's that got to do with me?"

"Everything!" He bellows, arms waving about exasperatedly, "It's all your fault!"

"What?" You snort, watching him as he walks closer to you on the couch, "How the fuck is that my fault? I didn't exactly invite you here, you're the one barging in!"

"Because I can't fucking... Ugh! You're so annoying!"

He huffs out a breath before he plops down on the couch dejectedly, practically staring daggers at you, "You ruined everything!"

"Colin," you sigh, shaking your head as you turn your body to face him. He's slumping down on the couch, legs spread wide, his face reminding you of a kicked puppy, "What are you talking about?"

"I can't do it anymore!" He exclaims, gesturing with his hands exasperatedly, "It doesn't work anymore! You broke it!"

"Broke what?" You frown, tilting your head at him.

"Me!" He yells, whipping his head to the side to look at you properly, "You broke me!"

You snort again.

"How exactly did I break you?"

"You were mean to me and now I can't do it anymore. It's your fault!"

"Okay, stop yelling," you sigh, sitting criss cross on the couch, looking at him, "Elaborate, please."

Colin sighs deeply before he turns his body towards you, "You fucking broke me. You were talking about that shit, about you, and settling down, and just-ugh! You fucking ruined it."

"Colin," you shake your head in confusion, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Do you mean that you're upset because we had a fight?"

"No," he replies, his eyes trailing over your living room, "I'm not just upset because we had a fight, it's not that. It's-"

His eyes narrow when they land on your computer and before you can even object, he snags it off the table, "What the fuck is this?! You're looking for an apartment?!"

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes dart down, not saying a word.

His head whips to the side to look at you, "Are you moving?!"

"No, I was just looking-"

"Why?!"

"Please, stop yelling," you mumble, rubbing your temples with your fingers, "You're going to give me a fucking migraine."

His eyes move back to the computer screen, long slender fingers quickly tapping the touchpad as he looks through the site, "Why are you moving?"

You shrug, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your shorts, "I'm not, I'm just.. Looking. I just wanted to see what else is out there, just to, you know.. Have a look."

"But you love living here," he mumbles, glancing at you before he looks back at the screen, "And these places are.. Wait a fucking second."

You glance up at him at his tone, your breath almost hitching when you're met with the stern look on his face.

"Are you moving in with him?"

You scrunch your face up in confusion, "What?"

"You are!" He exclaims, fingers now clicking furiously on the touchpad as he glares at the computer screen, "You're fucking.. You're moving in with him! I can't believe this.. Why would you do that?!"

You put your hands up to calm him, "Okay, hey, calm down, that's not-"

"Why are you moving in with him?!"

You blink a few times as he looks at you, his eyes searching your face. You take a moment too long to reply, making him speak again, "Do you love him?"

"What? Colin, it's-"

"You fucking love him," he breathes out, eyes widening as he looks back at the computer, "You broke me, and now you're gonna move in with this fucking guy, and you're gonna leave, and-"

"Colin!" You interrupt, making him look at you again, "Calm. Down. I am not moving in with him. I was just looking for fun. Calm your fucking tits, Shea."

"But do you love him?"

Your brows furrow at his question.

Why would he ask that?

Your eyes search his face and it has this strange vulnerability to it, one you haven't seen many times before. It's so rare, because he usually hides who he truly is. The only times you've ever seen it have been when something awful has happened, like when his dad died and you went with him to his funeral for support.

Your words are quieter than before when you ask, "Why do you want to know?"

He takes a deep breath, cerulean eyes holding yours captive as he whispers, "I just.. I want to know.. Do you?"

You wait for a moment, holding his piercing gaze, "No, I don't love him."

He releases a breath, your eyes not missing how he visibly relaxes where he sits. Then his eyes move back to the computer without him saying a word.

"Why are you here, Colin? What's going on?"

"You broke me," he mumbles, not looking at you, "I don't work like I used to, anymore."

"What does that mean?"

"Means I can't fucking get it up," he grumbles, clicking through the pictures on the website, "Can't have sex, it's like you're infiltrating my mind. No matter how hard I try, or who I've brought home in the past five days, I can't fucking do it. Can't even masturbate, how pathetic is that?"

He lets out a dry laugh as he continues looking at the pictures on the website, not even glancing your way.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, slamming against your ribcage as nerves swirl around your body.

"Why do you think that is?"

"Dunno," he mumbles, "I just keep thinking about you, it's so infuriating. It's never happened to me before, I don't know what the fuck is going on. I think your domesticated stink rubbed off on me, or something.."

You smile, watching the side of his face as he keeps his focus on your computer. "Or maybe it's something else."

"Like what?" He asks dumbly, turning his head to look at you, "You think I'm going impotent?"

You snort, shaking your head, "No, you idiot, you're not going impotent."

"Then what is it? Is this normal? Can you help me? I'm going fucking crazy here."

You nod slowly, eyes holding his, "Yeah, I uh.. I've heard about this before."

"What does it mean?" He asks you urgently, putting the laptop back down on the coffee table so he can face you fully, "How do I fix it?"

"I'm afraid you can't."

"What?! Why not?! I can't live like this!"

You chew on your bottom lip nervously as you hold back a smile at his words, and you don't miss the way his eyes immediately dart down to your lips at the action.

"I don't think it's something that needs fixing, Col. I think it means something else."

"What does it mean?" he mumbles out, eyes staying locked on your lips, "What should I do?"

You lean closer until you can cup his cheek, making his eyes move back up to meet yours, "I think it means you have some feelings that you're trying to ignore."

He scoffs softly, eyes bouncing between your own as he whispers, "But I don't get feelings.."

You chuckle softly, tilting your head, "I'm sorry to tell you this.. But I think you do."

Colin's eyes widen slightly at your words, then dropping to your lips again, "So.. What do I do? How do I get rid of them?"

"Sweetie," you smile, making him meet your eyes again. Your thumb gently rubs his cheek as you whisper, "Why would you want to get rid of them?"

His brows furrow, baby blue eyes scanning yours, "Because they're ruining me. I don't work anymore, I can't-"

He trails off when you lean a little closer, his breath hitching audibly.

"What was that?" You ask, tiling your head, "What were you about to say?"

Colin keeps searing eye contact, his blue eyes slowly being swallowed out by his pupils as he breathes out, "I can't get it up."

You smirk, your eyes darting down to his crotch momentarily, noticing the large bulge straining against his jeans, before you whisper, "You sure about that?"

He looks at you in complete and utter fascination, a dumbfounded expression pulling at his features. Then he mirrors your actions, his hand raising to cup your cheek, "What is this? What's happening?"

You snort, offering him a small smile before you drop your hand from his cheek, "It's nothing, Shea. Doesn't mean anything. But at least now you know your issue isn't physical. It's all in your head."

Colin frowns when you start to pull back, the hand cupping your cheek suddenly sliding back to curl around your neck, "Wait! Wait, stop, don't move.."

He pulls you closer to him, slowly, your lips parting as you look into his eyes intensely. He inches you closer until your breaths are practically mixing, his gaze never faltering.

"Col," you whisper, your heart beating rapidly, "What are you doing?"

He doesn't reply, instead, his eyes bounce between yours nervously before he leans the rest of the way. He moves in, slowly, and then he releases an unsteady breath when his soft lips slot over yours.

Your eyes close on instinct, your body practically melting into him at the delicate touch. He holds you to him, his grip on you never wavering, and it makes you rest your hand on his thigh to steady yourself.

He hums quietly as his lips move over yours, slowly, exploring the feel of them, and you mirror his movement, kissing him back carefully.

You can feel practical fireworks swirling inside you, your mind swimming at how soft his lips feel, how fucking fantastic it feels to dig your teeth into that plump bottom lip of his.

He groans quietly at the action, his other hand lifting to cup your face, tilting your head to kiss you deeper.

But then, when his tongue swipes at the seam of your lips, it snaps you out of it.

You pull back immediately, eyes widening as they meet his, "What-"

"Come back," he whispers, his eyes wild as they meet yours, "Don't pull away, please. Kiss me again."

"Col, I don't know if-"

"Please," he says, his eyes pleading, "It felt so good."

You smile softly, leaning into his touch when his thumb strokes your cheek, "Yeah, it did. But we can't do this, Colin."

"Why not?" He asks, almost needily.

You let out a small sigh, your eyes dropping to your hand on his thigh, "Because I won't just be another notch on your belt. I can't do that, we can't do that. You're my best friend. I don't want to just be a fuck, if we did that it would ruin everything."

"No, you don't know that, maybe-"

"I wouldn't be able to do it," you reply as you look back up at him, "If we crossed that line, I wouldn't be able to go back. I can't do that and still be your friend, still watch you hook up with every girl you meet. It would be too painful."

Colin stays quiet for a moment, those baby blues almost haunting as he holds your gaze. But then his hands drop, releasing you from his hold, and it's like your heart shatters into a million pieces.

"You're right," he mumbles, looking away from you, "You're right, it wouldn't be okay. It would be bad."

You try to hide the hurt inside, forcing on a brave face as you reply, "Yeah, it would be."

"I'm sorry," Colin says, glancing back at you before he gets up from the couch, "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't even have come here. I should go."

And then, before you can even manage to object, he's stormed out of your apartment, leaving you sitting on your couch, feeling even more lost than before.

When your door opens suddenly at 8 am two days later, it makes your blood run cold.

You almost cower in the kitchen, your eyes glued to the inside of your fridge, body tensing when the front door slams and you hear footsteps getting closer.

Guess it's back to normal, then.

And normal means he hooked up last night.

You take a moment to calm yourself before you mumble out, "Morning."

"Morning!" Colin says cheerfully as he walks closer, dropping something on the kitchen counter behind you.

You pick up the jug of juice in your fridge door, not looking at him as you turn to bring out a glass from the cupboard, "You're chipper this morning."

"Yeah," Colin replies, watching you pour juice into your glass, and you don't miss the happy tone of his voice.

Guess his problem got fixed.

You open another cupboard, reaching to pull out the bag of bagels hiding inside, when Colin's voice stops you, "No need, I got us breakfast."

That makes your brows furrow.

You glance at him over your shoulder, surprised to see he's actually dressed at 8 am, wearing a graphic tee and a pair of jeans, as well as his blue converse.

You tilt your head, smiling in amusement, "What?"

Colin lifts the bag off the counter, jutting his chin toward the couch, "C'mon, let's watch something. I got us fresh bagels. Bring the cream cheese."

You watch in utter confusion as he walks over to the couch and plops down on it, placing the bag of bagels on the coffee table. You remain a little sceptical as you bring out plates, a knife, and the cream cheese from your fridge, before you follow him.

You sit down next to him, frowning in confusion as you move to sit criss-crossed on the couch, leaning against the arm of it.

Colin just smiles as he pulls two bagels out of the bag, even preparing each of them with cream cheese before handing one to you.

You take it hesitantly, eyeing him carefully as he leans back on the couch and takes a bite, picking up your remote to turn on the TV.

As you watch him casually take a bite of his bagel, you finally ask, "Colin, what's going on?"

"Breakfast," he replies with his mouth full, eyes locked on your TV screen.

"Yeah, I got that," you chuckle, looking at him incredulously, "But, why?"

"Wanted to prove it to you," he says after he swallows his bite, finally turning his head to look at you.

"Prove what to me?" You ask curiously, watching the wide grin slowly spreading on his face.

"That it's different," he replies as he looks at you, "That you're different."

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trentcrimminallybeautiful · 11 months

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i have this silly little undeveloped au in my brain that's just like. tedependent but it's the sarah jane adventures. sort of. not literally in the doctor who universe necessarily but like. local intrepid reporter trent crimm investigating weird shit except the local neighborhood kids will not leave him alone.

i have so many thoughts about this but none of them are coherent enough for a proper fic i think:

i just think trent being good with kids, generally. go mentor figure trent! (what this has nothing to do with my thesis what do you mean)

trent, like sarah jane pre-series, having a sort of reputation in the neighborhood (or in general, since i'm also incorporating his actual canon vibes/story) as to being standoffish, aloof, cold, etc., and generally anti-social, keeping to himself. and as the kids keep dragging him into things kicking and screaming he might also be dragged kicking and screaming into a community <3

if his daughter is essentially luke does that mean he adopted her under Strange Alien-Related Circumstances? absolutely it does, yes.

see i've got two great ideas for ted/tedependent. on one hand, although in the context of SJA/nuwho i'm not so much one for sarah jane and the doctor as a Thing, ted playing the role of like. someone from trent's Mysterious Past who he won't talk about who set him on this path? someone who was kind and wonderful and changed his life but then--at least it feels like to him--abandoned him? someone who made him a better person--from doing whatever journalism he used to do to this--someone who he's still kinda in love with... but trent can no longer even really talk to......until he shows up again? that's some good shit, not gonna lie. although i'm jimmying that into a happy ending somehow, goddamn it.

ALTERNATIVELY. henry being one of the Neighborhood Kids (as if we're using "canon" kids, we've got limited options) and ted being an oblivious parent. trent is trying to get these kids to STOP POKING INTO DANGEROUS ALIEN NONSENSE PLEASE THIS IS HIS JOB PLEASE STOP BREAKING INTO HIS HOUSE but they're stubborn and smart and they may or may not have saved his life once or twice and oh GOD THIS IS SO IRRESPONSIBLE but he can't just TELL THESE RANDOM NEIGHBORS about ALIENS. but like anyway this just painful secret identity-esque nonsense where ted knows henry's taken a shine to that nice journalist down the street and his daughter but does NOT know that henry is getting into Shenanigans(TM). this could lead into all sorts of drama about, you know, his kid being in danger... or, alternatively, ted has worked with some unit/torchwood-esque place before and is like OHH you know what? this explains that time i thought i heard you speaking an alien language. cool, cool. and trents like. .....WHAT

etc. i'm not wording this well but i think you get the idea.

if you really really wanted to make it complicated you could do both, considering the doctor's whole thing--either a fob watch or a regeneration--but honestly, i don't want to do that, so i won't

some of the adults do definitely get involved though. keeley either clocks that shit right away or thinks she's clocked it but she's actually clocked something entirely different. she's like i know you're mi6 babe ;) and he. is not. meanwhile roy having ten freakouts in a row and then being like nvm i'm fine with this. (is not fine with this, but will be eventually). jamies like yeah aliens. everyone knows about those. and they're like what?? no they dont?? and so on.

is beard an alien? genuinely no one's sure. he's not telling.

HOLD ON can i give trent k-9???? can trent crimm get a robot dog?????? yes please i think he deserves a robot dog

also see the trickster episodes? bet you could do something real fucked up with those.

i feel like i had more when i started this post but i don't remember

this not well thought out at all and i have no idea where everyone would fit in

anyway my point is. trent crimm, intrepid journalist, running around trying to stop alien shenanigans while Those Meddling Kids keep following him around. trent crimm doin a little Breaking And Entering. scooby doo shit. and he has such an interesting mix of seeming suave and badass and then immediately doing something embarrassing. trent crimm--via shenanigans and also Those Meddling Kids dragging him into their lives (aka he tries to keep his distance SO badly and only is involved when dangerous shit is going down but like then it's all. child knocking on his door like IT'S AN EMERGENCY OPEN UP and hes like WHAT WHAT IS IT and theyre like can you help me with my homework :( and hes like. fuck. yeah fine what do you want help with. (some subjects he's very helpful on others he's VERY not) until they're like okay but you're coming to this bbq right. and he's like? no? and they're like you're coming to this bbq right. and so on) ANYWAY the point is they keep dragging him into their lives and now oops! trent actually knows his neighbors and has to go through the mortifying ordeal of being known. but that also means that when he gets badly hurt or sick he's used to the empty hospital room but now he actually gets people showing up and forcing baked goods on him and shit and i'm just feeling a lot of things about this extremely hypothetical au based on my already existing feelings about trent gaining a community in s3/post-canon,

wait does this mean trent gets sonic lipstick? HELL YEAH IT DOES

#well actually i have a LOT of silly little underdeveloped aus in my brain but #anyway. crack edition: the football players are still football players.#trent crimm wondering why he's trying to stop an alien spaceship from blowing up the block #with the help of a team of famous football players. roy kent just punched a raxicoricofallapatorian.#trent on the couch with a black eye bc they had a run in with a sontaron or some shit: [holding up peas to his face] okay.#so jamie tartt is here for some reason. and also the neighbor i have a crush on. and also his son. and also colin. this is fine #that's all a joke obviously but the imagery has me cackling #anyway this also made me think of trent as river song which doesnt work at first glance but then when i think about some PARTICULAR things #makes me cry. like. just. meeting him in reverse.#it's s3 trent--dorky and open and softer but sadder--that he meets first #and by the time he reaches the end he sees how far he's come out of his shell and how unhappy he was #but then they have their moment...#sorry that's also barely coherent and definitely wouldn't make a cohesive au without a lot more work im just spinning thoughts in my brain #trent crimm #tedependent #tedtrent #ted x trent #sja au #tvtcau #the first one before i even had that lol

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evenaturtleduck · 1 year

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Me picking up my first Inspector Morse novel: Do not ship these characters do not ship these characters do NOT ship these characters.

The book:

Me: god-fucking-dammit

#currently reading #death is now my neighbor #colin dexter #inspector morse

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poemega · 1 year

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It’s important to me that y’all know just how much the Colin Trent bar scene got me. I screamed out loud. At 2:43 am.

#ted lasso #trent crimm #colin hughes #did I mention I live in a college dorm?#my neighbors were not happy with me

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transgendergoblinfromspace · 2 years

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If WWDITS can top this weeks episode my brain might actually explode. It’s been the best episode so far in the whole series. There’s no episodes I haven’t liked but this topped the night market episode and that blew my mind almost then. We had to pause the episode because we were laughing so hard that we couldn’t pay attention.

Side note, I really hope laszlo is successful in seducing Sean this season. He deserves it and I think if any show could pull it of, this is the one.

#WWDITS #spoilers #wwdits spoiler #wwdits spoilers #what we do in the shadows spoiler #private school #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows season 4 #laszlo cravensworth #Sean the neighbor #nandor the relentless #nandor the himbo #guilermo de la cruz #nadja of antipaxos #baby colin robinson

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kaimukiwahine · 1 year

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>Still longing for that beach episode so decided to do a silly Neil sketch.

>Goes to Steam and looks at game’s page for references.

>THIS FCKER IS BACK!!!! I CAN’T!!!!!! *Dies laughing*

#to the moon (game)#finding paradise #for those who don't know angus is/was colin's neighbor you can talk to walk around the hallway #he is one of THE funniest interactions in FP and I'm just losing it!

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murkyhazed-hasmoved · 2 years

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@wasworthy liked feat. colin robinson (& guillermo)

❝ if we bring a potato salad, someone else might have brought one too. then there would be TWO potato salads at their party. talk about AWKWARD, am i right? ❞

#wasworthy #* &. colin robinson.#def for a party at their human neighbors #that laz is making them go to #cause its his good time boy

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sanguiisuge · 2 years

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cannot wait for w.wdits s4 when the laszlo / guillermo beef is on sight

#at this point lasz has beef with everyone except for colin robinson and neighbor sean #hes gonna get himself killed i fear #ooc.

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grimcovesarchive · 1 year

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❝ do you make a habit of locking yourself out of places ? this is the second time this week. it's a good thing you've given me your spare. ❞

open to : females.

made with beta.

#indie rp #open rp #[ ✿ ] : 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 ➜ colin hawthorne •#probs neighbors and she's locked out of her #apartment or car

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klngbottom · 2 years

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tags prt two .

* & . 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ‚ nadja .

* & . 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ‚ gizmo .

* & . 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ‚ nandor .

* & . 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ‚ colin robinson .

* & . 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ‚ the boy .

* & . 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ‚ neighbor sean .

#* & . 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ‚ nadja .#* & . 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ‚ gizmo .#* & . 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ‚ nandor .#* & . 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ‚ colin robinson .#* & . 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ‚ the boy .#* & . 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ‚ neighbor sean .

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crescentcampbell · 13 days

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Lord Debling: So, are the Bridgerton's like your cousins or something? Penelope Featherington: No, we're just neighbors. Why? Lord Debling: Because your chaperone is looking at me like he wants to commit murder. Penelope Featherington: Oh, that's just Colin. He's a friend. Totally platonic. He's helping me find a husband. Colin Bridgerton: *makes knife slicing gesture to Lord Debling* Lord Debling: *looks into the camera like he's on the office*

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3

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czascornertfs · 3 months

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Revenge: Jock Bro Style

"Whoa broski! WTF r u doin bro?!" The deep voice of one of the jocks echoed in the hallway.

"BROCK ANDERSON! You shut your mouth and move out the way, NOW!" Colin Foster, head of the English club of the neighboring college, shouted back. He had just come back from a tiring activity about writing some kind of novel, when he had the misfortune of bumping right into Brock Anderson: apparently the school's most feared and revered football players, hanging out with his small group of friends. He was just trying to visit an old friend of his, a fellow English teacher just a few floors up.

"Huhuh, sorry duude..." Brock responded, his deep bass voice resonating in Colin's ears. This irritated Colin more, as in the moment he felt as though he was being disrespected. They didn't even call him sir for crying out loud, he though to himself, as he felt his fury rise. "You absolute DIMWITS! I am at my wits end trying to just get through the day and burly asses decided to just block my way JUST TO TALK?!" Colin hurled more and more insults. He didn't even know why he was this angry at something so insignificant, but the day's stresses got the better of him.

Pushing his way through the jocks, he was about to walk the other direction when Brock shouted. "HEY! You do not get to talk about us like that!" he spoke loudly and firmly, pointing his fingers in Colin's direction. Brock's friends stayed quiet behind him, the one beside him mockingly scrunching his "angry" face. Colin was taken aback by Brock's sudden proficiency in English, but he simply tutted, turned around, and walked briskly away from the jocks. Brock placed his hands down, and calmly walked away from his friends, opening his phone and dialing some number he found on the net. "I'd like to purchase one of your little games..."

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

Night came, as Colin begrudgingly sat on his desk chair and turned on his laptop. It was time to grade yet another set of papers made by some of his students. It was nearing midnight when he finally yawned, placing his hands on his tired face. "God I'm turning 45 just round the corner...." he mumbled to himself. He thought back to the incident that happened earlier that day, and closed his eyes. He knew shouldn't have been that angry, and yet he still hated them. His type, the damn jocks. "Dumb lumbering pieces of meat", he thought to himself.

Just then, a notification popped up. Opening it, he saw something which made his stomach drop.

"...Brock?" He mumbled to himself. Rolling his eyes at the horrible typography and spelling, he begrudgingly nodded understandingly. Looking at the bottom, he saw a link to this "present". "Jockify. Some kinda' new workout app maybe? Could use a few of those." Colin chuckled to himself. He was known to be quite skinny. Clicking it, a file downloaded on his computer. After unzipping it, he clicked on the app and it began loading. As it did, something caught his eye. The appearance of the pop-up seemed...old. REALLY old. Windows XP old. "Jesus, is this a virus..." he groaned, tapping his fingers on his desk. Finally, the pop-up loaded.

Colin gasped in shock as he flung himself backwards to his chair's backrest. First, what the hell was this "bro'd" thing and why the fuck did Brock send this. Second, this did NOT look like a typical Windows XP pop-up, or really any pop-up for that matter. Everything seemed wrong, and Colin sighed exhaustedly. "Goddammit Brock." he mumbled angrily. But as his cursor went over to close it, the cursor went haywire. Try as he might, he couldn't close the pop-up. He even tried the last resort, turning the laptop off and then on again. The pop-up was still there. He wanted to put this off for tomorrow, but he still had some papers left to go over. Slapping himself across the face, he pushed forward and clicked the underlined link below.

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

*click*

When it appeared, Colin immediately tried to close it. But he felt something tingling on his legs, arms, hands, neck-- it was everywhere. He immediately tried to scratch these parts, when the tingling turned into pain. His legs ballooned with lean muscle as he felt his pants shift. As the pants suddenly shredded themselves he felt his bulge vibrate and pulsate as his cock erupted forth from his groin. The pain sent Colin stand up immediately and went limping to the bathroom as he surveyed it. Standing fully erect and having grazed a table leg so hard it sent waves of orgasmic pleasure down his whole body, Colin looked down.

(Colin's cock)

"J-jesus fuck..." Colin whispered in overwhelming pleasure as his cock stood tall. Placing his hand next to it, he figured it was maybe a full 10 inches long. But the changes were only beginning. As he tried to limp back with his cock swinging between his legs, he fell onto the ground as more and more muscle rippled through his body. He felt his spine elongate and stretch, as did his bones, tendons, and everything in between. With a few ghastly pops and cracks, he groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure, grasping his cock with one hand trying to contain himself. As his clothes shredded themselves, they seemed to have disappeared into thin air entirely. Colin was scared. And overwhelmingly horny.

(Colin's body)

After a few pained breaths, he slowly stood up, now a towering giant of 6 foot 10 inches. He walked over slowly back to the laptop, huffing carefully as he grasped his cock, which was now a full 12-inch long hunk of meat. "...g-gOD..." Colin mumbled, clutching at his throat in surprise at the deeper voice he now had. He wanted this nightmare to end, and desperately tried to close the pop-up. But instead, the cursor moved itself towards the link.

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

*click*

"SHIT! Oh god...p-please, no moOO-" Colin was barely able to complete his pleas of mercy when his feet burst through his socks. The pain was more tolerable this time, as he clenched his jaws the entire time his feet grew larger. What was then a US size 14 had grown into hunks of size 21 meat. "Meat. Meat. Meat.", the word swirled around in Colin's head, staring at his feet while laying down, still naked, on the floor. Pushed on by the caption in the pop-up, he slowly placed his nose near his feet and took a sniff. They smelled like old socks, much to his chagrin. At least it didn't smell that bad.

Taking a few deep breaths, he went back to the laptop and placed his hands on the mouse. If Brock wanted to play dirty, he would at least try to not go down without a fight. He wanted to see what was at the end of this stupid "game".

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

*click*

As the pop-up appeared, a foul stench suddenly greeted his nose. Looking down, he saw that over his naked muscled bod were some new clothes. They all stunk. Keeling his head over to his armpits, he felt the warm sweat greet his face, as the stench of....manliness...pierced his nostrils. "...manliness?" Colin grumbled to hismelf. Why the hell did he describe it like that? Then he turned to his feet, new socks draped over them. Carefully removing the socks revealed the insides to be horrendously stained brown with what seemed to be weeks worth of sweat and dirt. Tossing them aside in the pile, he was about to take a whiff when it hit him. "Pile?" No, he was better than that. He always placed his socks in the washing machine but...there was a pile. He had a pile. And somehow, he knew there was a pile. A pile of dirtied, smelly socks.

He looked back at his feet and took a long whiff.

The putrid smell knocked him out, as he fell back on the floor with his head spinning. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*click* As he woke up, he found himself sitting in front of the laptop, his hands already placed atop the mouse. He had clicked without knowing it. Colin looked around himself, as he noticed he was no longer in his shoddy apartment. He was now in some dingy room, the walls covered with posters of men, medals, awards, trophies, and the floor covered with piles of dirty unwashed clothing. His chair had turned into some dirty couch, as the desk had turned into a coffee table. His nose wrinkled at the horrible smell that was now everywhere. He closed his eyes in mild panic. "I-It's a'ight Colin. J-just get to the e-end."

After a few breaths, he opened them.

Colin's face warped into that of horror. "D-Dumb?!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he suddenly felt a crushing headache as he leaned forward, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Slowly, the rest of hid body tightened up, as his age went down, stopping to reveal he had now regressed back into a 25-year old stud. Slowly but surely, his neurons began to either disintegrate or reorganize. All of that sophisticated schooling slowly slipped away, as he also began to lose memories he had even gone to them to begin with. With the loss of his intelligence, drool began to pool in his mouth, before seeping out in a small fine stream of saliva. What was once a proud IQ of 120 was struck down to a mind-numbing 50. Just enough to let him follow simple instructions and live comfortably. "...huhuh bro.....s-stop b-brooo...." he groaned, chuckling mindlessly at himself as he placed his sweaty feet on the desk with a loud thump as he stretched his legs. But inside, there was still a piece of him that wanted to fight back. Memories that he used to be a greater, smarter person. Someone who had the brains to deal with all kinds of bullshit. He wanted to turn back into that person.

Colin moved on, clicking the pop-up again.

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

*click*

"...th-the End....b-broOOo?" Colin mumbled in a jock-like inflection. Inside, he panicked. He still remembered he used to have the ability to read this without difficulty, but as he started to read the pop-up he found himself struggling to piece together what the alphabet even meant to sound like. "I.....w-wAnna g-gO.....b-back broOo...." Colin mumbled desperately. Even though he was in a new world of bliss, he wanted to turn back. He had learned his les--.wait...lesson for doing what again?

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

*click*

Colin stared dumbfounded at the equation. A simple equation. He remembered it was simple, but he somehow couldn't find the answer. The text on screen was almost illegible, as his brain filled in the gaps with a few words he knew.

Colin leaned forward in fear. "...bro....I d-don't...k-knOw.....huhu...f-fUck dude...i d-dOn't wAnna b-be a BRO....like...BRO....". Wracking his mind for any semblance of even a number to place, he gave up. The pain of trying to think was too much, as the last bits of his intelligence seeped out from his mouth...and cock.

He typed nonsense. It was all he knew.

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

*click*

"huhu...f-fuUUCK BRO" Colin winced at the screen. There was Brock's face, proudly showing a middle finger. His body convulsed with pleasure as more cum slowly but surely seeped down into his shorts. And now he was at the end. With nowhere else to turn, Colin clicked the pop-up as it closed.

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

*click*

Immediately, his mind went blank. Colin...who the fuck was Colin again? Cum continued flowing out his throbbing cock, as another dull feeling washed over his brain. C... Co... Col... Colt... Colt shook his head as he looked down at the laptop. There on the screen was Brock's face, plastered with the words "FUK U DUDE".

"huhuh...b-brock dude...wanna s-smell m-my...f-feet bro..."

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

It was now two years later, and a lot has changed for the two jocks. For one, Brock had finally passed his third year of college after many many attempts at the exam. Knocking at the door of his new apartment, Brock opened the door.

"Guess what bro...I got an A+!" Brock flexed in Colt's face, cockily chuckling to himself as the he went back to his room.

Colt could only mumble incoherently, slouching his hulking body over as his eyes went everywhere but Brock. Brock smiled. After finding Colt in his dingy room following the conversion, he managed to sneak him into the school, becoming his own personal pet jock. After crafting elaborate fake emails saying "Colin" had quit his job and moved to Canada, "Colin" slowly faded from the public's memory.

After moving out from the school dorms, he found a new apartment nearby and rented a large enough room. With Colt in tow, he now had time to let him roam out to the different gyms across town whenever he was in class or out working. This had the added perk of keeping him both docile and bulking him up a little more. He had the mind of an animal now anyways, and he knew exactly when and where to find his coach when the time comes.

As Colt sat down on what was now a small couch to him and grabbing a bottle of beer, Brock slapped him across the face, making Colt grunt and drool all over himself.

"That's right dumbass. I'm on top now. No one even knows who you are anymore." Brock said, stuffing Colt's mouth with his fingers, puppeteering his head side to side before taking them out. Colt only chuckled as he placed the bottle back in his mouth. "...t-top...b-brooo...huhuhuh..."

"And who's a good dumb jock bro now hmm?"

"M-me...d-dumb....jOck...brooo huhuh..."

#dumb jock tf #jock tf #muscle transformation #muscle tf #jockification #reality change #jockify

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lydiimae · 17 days

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Adoration

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Part 1 <3

MDI!! 18+

Warnings: Mentions of sex work, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions (very light and brief) of physical abuse to readers mother, oral (m receiving, vaginal sex, masturbation, dirty talk, talk of public sex

Word Count: 4.1k

A.N: ITS HERE. Part two of infatuation \^-^/! I had so much trouble trying to figure out how to extend this story, but as soon as I wrote this I was overwhelmed with ideas on how to continue it. I am so sorry I have been so very inconsistent with writing, I am nearing finals so I have been so low energy and motivation. (College is awful). For those who have sent me requests- they are coming I promise! Anyways my loves, here is Benedict Bridgerton and you being Benedict Bridgerton and you <3 I hope you enjoy it, and as always, thank you for your overwhelming support and love >_<

It has been two weeks since that lovely, lust-filled night with Benedict. Two weeks since you had officially become his mistress. Two weeks, and you still made sure to keep your past a secret, and the significant fact that you worked as a maid for the family that lives right across from him. There was a certain shame that came with both, a feeling that he would not want you to come to his townhouse anymore if he found out. You thought he might find it odd that you work so close to his house. Perhaps he might even come to the assumption that you were seeking him out at the party, that he would find you strange. None of that would ever be true, of course. Benedict adores the time he spends with you, he makes it clear every time you meet, but there is still an underlying sense of dread. Especially today.

Indeed, that dread is the same dread that is lingering in the back of your head now. You are chaperoning Penelope to tea with Colin, much to her excitement. You had spent almost three hours getting her ready beforehand, insisting that she looks good in whatever she wears. The both of you walked across the street, the young debutante grinning ear to ear. You, on the other hand, were a ball of nerves. You had met Benedict in his bachelor's lodgings just last night, but you decided not to speak of what he may see today. You were regretting that decision now as you knocked on the door with a shaky hand.

“Y/N, you are shaking. Whatever is the matter? Are you feeling well?” Penelope asks, looking at you with pure concern. “It is only a headache, my lady. Nothing you have to worry about. Today is about you.” You assure, smiling as brightly as you can as you fib. She smiles back, her face brightening. The footman, John, answers the door and grins. “Lady Featherington. Lord Bridgerton is in the drawing room. Please come in.” He says, opening his arm towards the entryway. You collect Penelope's shawl before bowing your head to the footman politely. She starts down the hall and you take a deep breath before faking a sparkling smile, following her into the drawing room.

Sure enough, Benedict is there, sprawled out across the sofa with his sketchbook and charcoal in hand. He looks up lazily when Penelope walks in, but his expression quickly changes to one of shock when you follow. Your face shifts from a bright smile to an apologetic one, trying to communicate your worries silently. A silent prayer that he will pick up on your lingering anxieties about working for his neighbor.

He clears his throat and comes to the door, where you are patiently standing. “You… for them?” He whispers as he approaches, his expression unreadable. You only nod in response, knowing that if you say anything it will come out a jumbled mess of stutters. “Why did I not know before now?” He asks, settling into a polite position near you. To anyone on the outside, it looks as if he is merely speaking to a maid about his brother and her mistress. “I... I suppose I did not find it important.” You fib.

“Well, I certainly do. You are so secretive.” He sighs, looking over at you. Your eyes settle on your feet, not daring to meet his. “Y/N. If you are going to be my mistress there must be some semblance of transparency between us.” He says softly, his pinky extending and curling around one of yours. The action makes your cheeks heat up. “I did not know if you would think it strange. I have worked there for so long… I thought you would perhaps think less of me.” You whisper, the reasoning sounding silly now that you have said it out loud.

"And why would I think that?" He asks, sensing your nerves and giving your pinky a comforting squeeze as if to say that he is not put off. "You do not find it strange that I have worked across the road from you for ages? I thought that you would think I somehow... sought you out." You whisper, a bit tense. “No, I only pity that you have to be in the same home as Lady Featherington, the woman is a wench.” He mumbles, nudging your hip with his own. You have to suppress a laugh as you look up at him. He looks down at you with an expression of adoration.

"Y/N, I do appreciate honesty. I wish for you to tell me things like this. You do not need to feel anxious around me." He says softly, turning from playful to concerned like a dime. "I do not. I promise. It is more anxieties that linger because of past experiences I suppose." You whisper, looking down at your feet. He senses that there may be something more underneath, and he also senses that you do not wish to speak about it any longer. "My statement still stands. I am not others, I shall not judge you for being a woman who needs to support herself. I certainly shall not judge you for being apprehensive of telling me the place of your employment either." He assures.

“Thank you.” You breathe, looking away before you slip up and do something entirely untoward. You watch Colin and Penelope interact, a small smile gracing your lips as you observe how sweet they are to each other. “Colin. Does he hold any affection for any of the debutantes this season?” You ponder quietly as you watch Penelope smile shyly at the young man. Benedict looks over as well and a knowing look crosses over his features. “He has been secretive about it. Unusually so.” He whispers back. “And Penelope?” He returns. “Penelope is ever hopeful about one.” You hum before returning your gaze to him.

He meets your eyes and nods, giving your pinky a squeeze with his own. “She is a sweet girl. I have no doubt she will be successful in making her hopes a reality this season.” He murmurs. You nod and look away once more, stolen glances getting all too much paired with the grasp of his finger around yours. “Have you opened yourself up to the idea of marriage, Benedict?” You ask though you do not wish to know the answer. Some strange ache spreads through your chest at the thought of him marrying someone.

He visibly tenses and shakes his head. “No. No, I wish to focus on my art. Improving it, getting ahead in the academy. No time for… marriage right now.” He nods, clearing his throat and quickly returning his gaze to his brother. You nod, something about his vehement denial of the idea of marriage making you calm slightly. “It is quite suffocating. The idea of having to give your whole heart to a person with the risk that they break it. Then you would be… stuck.” You whisper and he looks down at you.

“You believe so?” He asks, his brows knitting together. You look up and nod. “I… what if the person changes once you make your vows? What if they hurt you? I find it terrifying.” You admit. “You do not?” You ask and he shakes his head. “No. I find the risk all the more romantic. If you find someone who truly makes your heart swell, someone who you find you cannot breathe without, who plagues your mind day in and day out, would it not be worth the risk?” He asks and you cannot respond.

“Finding a woman that makes you feel as though you have discovered the reason behind why poets speak of love so greatly, the way that artists paint the feeling so vividly, is well worth the risk to me. It is what makes life so exciting, finding your person. Your reason.” He finishes, and your heart is practically hammering out of your chest. “That is a very beautiful outlook on love, Benedict.” You manage to whisper back, and he smiles. “It is the naive artist in me.” He whispers back, his tone right back to playful and you nod, smiling to yourself. Whoever Benedict marries is a lucky woman, you decide.

Soon, Penelope and Colin part ways and you are forced to let go of Benedict’s pinky. With a quick curtsy to the Bridgerton brothers, you lead Penelope into the entryway where you wrap her shawl around her shoulders. You curtsy once more to the footman before walking the young debutante back home.

She speaks of Colin the whole way back and for the rest of the afternoon. You find it endearing, the amount of love she holds for the young man. She has never once admitted it outright, but it has always been quite clear to you in the way she speaks and looks at him. Your heart used to break for her when she would come crying to you about the things she overheard him say about her, but recently that has all changed. They are both clearly in love.

It makes you think of what it would feel like, to be a young debutante in love. To have all of the dresses in the world, to have your every wish only an arm's length away, to have your every need catered to. You had concluded long ago that love was a privilege, just as happiness and comfort. After all, you never saw any of those things in the neighborhood you grew up in. Not in the families you were surrounded by, and certainly not in your own.

Your father worked in a factory and your mother, though she would never admit it, was a prostitute. When your father reached the age of forty-five, the factory laid him off on the claim that he was getting too old and slow to keep up with the children. That is when your father began drinking. You were about ten and seven at the time, and you had picked up a job under a modiste in town where you met Genevieve. Every night when you would return home you would find your father screaming drunken insults at your mother. Drunken insults turned into drunken actions that he would swear would never happen again, and one day your mother stopped coming home from her nights on the streets.

Then, when you would come home, your father would yell at you. The minute he even hinted at being physical with you, you packed your bags and never looked back. Happiness and love were dead, a silly idea that only people with money could have. You spent another three years living with Genevieve before the job at the Featheringtons was presented to you. You accepted Lady Featherington’s offer gratefully and have been working as a lady’s maid for Penelope ever since. The only person who knows the full story of your past is Genevieve, as transparency is another comfort only granted to those with money. Who knows what would be said about you if you openly admitted that your mother was a lady of the night?

“How do you know Benedict, Y/N?” Penelope’s voice snaps you out of the trance you had been in while brushing her hair out before bed. Your blood runs cold. Had she overheard your conversation? “Whatever do you mean, my lady?” You ask, playing dumb. She snorts and smiles knowingly. “You were talking with him like you had known him your whole life, not to mention the way the both of you were looking at each other.” She says.

“My lady I-” You start, trying to think of any excuse to explain the way you were speaking to Benedict, but she quickly interrupts. “Y/N, you know that whatever you share with me shall be kept with me. I promise.” She says with a comforting smile and you chew on your bottom lip, deciding if you want to tell her the full truth or the half-truth. You quickly decide that there is no point in lying, as you are quite terrible at it.

“We met at a party a few weeks ago.” You whisper as your cheeks turn pink. She turns, making your hands fall to your side. “Really? My God! He is handsome, is he not?” She says with a grin and you smile shyly. “He is indeed, my lady.” You agree and she laughs. “Have you met with him? Has your friendship grown?” She asks and you nod. “I do. I meet with him whenever I am able.” You reply and she nods. “You deserve something wonderful, Y/N. Perhaps he could-” She starts but you shake your head. “It is nothing like that, my lady. I am quite content with my life here, working for you. I see no need in chasing something I am not allowed to have.” You say and her face falls. She nods understandably nonetheless, turning back to the mirror so you can continue to get her ready for bed, the idle conversation turning to one of the books she has read recently.

You make your way down to the servants' quarters after making sure Penelope has everything she needs for the night. As you walk past the other servants one of the other maids stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Grace, what is it?” You ask and she grins. “You have a letter, Y/N. A young man snuck it in while you were taking Penelope shopping this afternoon.” She says with a knowing smile, passing you a small letter.

“Thank you.” You hum before making your way to your small bedroom. You walk in and shut the door behind you, lighting the candle on your desk. “Meet me at midnight, where the world sleeps and the stars whisper secrets. Let us share a moment under the moon's gentle gaze, just you and me, lost in each other's embrace. B.B.” You grin at his somewhat sloppy handwriting, tucking the note away in the lockable drawer in your desk before getting ready to go to his townhouse.

You pin your hair up and put on one of Genevive’s more risque creations, made just for you. A gift for your nineteenth birthday that you have never had a use for until now. It is a baby pink, almost seethrough material that hangs loose on your body. However, it hugs the assets that you find Benedict likes the most. You cover it up with a cloak to walk and slip on your stockings and shoes before making your way out of the Featherington estate.

He had thought of nothing but you since you arrived at his home, even now as he paints in the small drawing room of his townhouse his thoughts are plagued by you. He is trying to be patient, but he wants nothing more than to run to the Featherington residence and have his way with you. His grip on the paintbrush in his hand tightens as his thoughts turn to the way your body moves when you are in his bed. The way his thighs feel hitting yours when he is buried to the hilt inside of you, the noises he draws from your perfect cunt, the way your breasts bounce when you are on top of him.

He groans and drops the paintbrush, burying his head in his hands as his trousers become tighter. He closes his eyes and jiggles his leg, trying to take his mind off sex. How humiliating would it be if he answered the door with his cock fully hard already? He groans and runs a hand through his hair, standing up and moving to the sofa so he can take care of the problem himself. He leans back and unbuttons his trousers, letting his cock spring free against his clothed stomach.

He sighs and spits on his hand beginning to stroke himself to the thought of you. Your face when you reach your peak, the way you moan when he drinks from your body, how your lips wrap around his cock as your eyes look up into his, always so eager to please. He moans at the thought of your perfect breasts pressed against his chest, your nails dragging angry red marks into his back as he fucks you so hard his hips leave marks on your pelvic bone. God, he wants nothing more than to mark you as his for the rest of the world to see. He wants to parade you around all of London completely naked and on all fours.

You smile to yourself as you walk to the back entrance, deciding to surprise him. You are happy to find the back door unlocked and you let yourself in, expecting him to be in the drawing room sat in front of a canvas. You hang up your cloak and seak deeper into the home, making sure your bare feet touch the cold wood as quietly as they can.

You freeze when you hear a loud moan from the drawing room, your heart dropping to your feet. Surely he does not have another woman here, you thought that you had made your boundaries quite clear when he made you his mistress. You did not want to fuck him after he had just fucked another woman, the thought made your stomach roll over with disgust. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you peek inside the drawing room, your lips parting when you are presented with a very much-alone Benedict stroking his cock on the sofa.

Heat pools in your core as your eyes lock in his hand, moving up and down quite quickly. The tip is already an angry red, dripping with hints of his arousal. You take a deep breath and make your way into the room as quietly as you can, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning when he lets out a very breathy, and wanton, “Y/N.” You drop to your knees in front of him, pressing a light kiss to his knee in hopes of not startling him too much.

His eyes shoot open and his hands automatically go to cover himself. You laugh at his startled expression and he sighs in relief, moving a hand down to cup your cheek. “How did you get in?” He breathes, running his thumb along your cheekbone. You hum and lean into his gentle caress. “You left the back door unlocked. So irresponsible, Bridgerton.” You murmur and he chuckles, the deep sound making your thighs all wet and sticky.

“Perhaps I was being hopeful.” He whispers back and you smile. “You have not commented on the dress I have on. I worked so very hard to look good for you.” You tease, jutting your lip out playfully. He rolls his eyes and gestures for you to stand, making you giggle as you do. “Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He grunts, placing his hands on your hips. You swat them away and he huffs in frustration. “Do not pout, I want to please you. Please.” You whisper and all of his resolve suddenly disappears.

He watches as you sink back down onto your knees between his legs, slowly slipping his trousers off. Once his legs are bare, you begin to pepper the inside of his thighs with wet, open-mouthed kisses. He groans and slides a hand into your hair, making the pins fall out. He plays with your curls and grips as you press a kiss so very close to his twitching cock, his reaction making you smirk.

Without warning you take his tip into your mouth, sucking on it like an ice lolly. He groans and rolls his head back, his hips bucking up as he grips your hair to try and push you onto his cock. You allow him to guide you, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as your nose gets pressed into his pubic hair. You look up at him just as he looks down at you, a cocky smirk plastered across his face as he begins to thrust into your mouth. The action makes you moan, your hand sneaking between your legs to soothe the ache that has settled there.

You whine and grind down onto your fingers, the vibrations making him grunt and stall. You gag and tap once on his thigh, pulling off of him when he lets go. Drool dribbles down your neck and between your breasts as you pant, looking up at him with glassy eyes. He curls his fingers around your chin and leads you up onto your feet. “So perfect.” He whispers as his hands find their way to the soft flesh of your rear. He squeezes and you gasp, moving to straddle him as if on instinct.

He hums and presses a kiss to your lips as he begins to undo the ribbons on your dress. The fabric falls and he lifts your hips, his lips still locked with yours. He throws the dress somewhere across the room and his hands come to your waist, moving you so you are lying flat on the sofa. He breaks the kiss only to lick a stripe down your neck as your legs wrap around his waist. He hums and bites your collarbone as his fingers plow through your folds, making you cry out loudly. He smirks and rubs his thumb around your clit, slipping one long finger into your entrance.

Your eyes roll back as his finger curls into that spongey spot he somehow knows how to find right away each time. He adds another finger and begins to twist, slowly getting your body ready for him. You pant hard and crowd a hand into his thick hair, tugging him up from your neck so you can steal a sloppy kiss full of tongue and tooth. You whine when the feeling of his fingers disappears and buck your hips up into his, silently begging for whatever he wants to give you.

He parts the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, his tip nudging your entrance. You whine and close your eyes, at which he grips your chin. “Look at me while I fuck you, Y/N. You know the rules.” He breathes and your eyes snap open. He grins and buries himself completely inside of you with one thrust, making you cry out as he grunts. “Fuck. Fuck, you… God. So tight.” He breathes, beginning to pound into you at a brutal pace. You grip his arms, your mouth hanging open as loud moans and whines slip past your lips beyond your control.

He pounds into you, your nails dragging down his back with every thrust. His hands press down onto your hips so hard you are sure that his fingerprints will be embedded in your skin. He revels in the slick noises he draws from your cunt, sucking a mark on your chest where he knows it will not be seen. The sound of thighs meeting thighs fills the small space, the smell of sex making your mind foggy. His pelvis slams against your clit with every thrust, making an utterly intoxicating feeling of pain and pleasure wash over your body as he fills you to the brim.

He is so close already, what with palming himself and a quick suck from you. He presses his head into the crook of your neck and bites down, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. His hand sneaks between both of your bodies and his thumb finds your clit, circling fast so that he can get you to where he is. It works wonderfully and your cunt clenches around him ad you call out his name. He pulls out quickly, spilling himself on your stomach as his fingers take you to your climax. A pinch to your clit takes you over the edge, seeing stars and babbling nonsense about how good he is as you do.

He lifts himself off of you and cuddles into your side, making you smile. He peppers your shoulder with kisses and you laugh. “Stay?” He whispers after a moment of nothing but kisses and the sounds of your breathing. Your cheeks heat up at the adorable, hopeful expression that crosses over his face. “Mmm. I think I can, Mister Bridgerton.” You tease, flipping him onto his back and crawling over him. “Jesus Christ. You are utter perfection.” He whispers, claiming your mouth again.

Perhaps, love is not that far away.

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