#no more fics for like the next 6 months (<- me when i lie)

[introspectivememories]

what's wrong with data analyst bernard?

summary: tim's a workaholic ceo. bernard is, to put it simply, a down-on-his-luck loser with a kid to take care of. somewhere along the line, they meet. (very loosely based on the 2018 hit kdrama, "what's wrong with secretary kim?")

A/N: for @chamiryokuroi bc this fanart has given me brainrot since the moment i saw it. but also bc, i missed writing and your art helped. i hope you like it. (more notes at the end.)

Today is a good day, Bernard thinks happily, brand new ID badge bouncing on his tie. It's his first day at Wayne Ent. and Mori had sent him off with a hug and muttered, "have a good day, Tou-san." It's been bouncing around in his head all day. Tou-san, Tou-san, Tou-san, he's really a dad now. He's got to make sure Mori has everything he needs and this new job is going to make sure he can do that.

Shaking his head once to clear it, he takes a sip of the complimentary coffee a team member bought him for his first day. His team leader, Young-joon Lee, is taking him on a tour of the building. Young-joon is a wonderful man in his late 30s but it's very clear that he's been consumed by the office lifestyle.

"...and here is our magnificent lobby!" Young-joon is saying as he tunes back in. His team leader spreads his arms wide out as he speaks, "Everyone knows the lobby but it's my personal philosophy that making friends or at least being on amicable terms with the ground floor staff will make your life easier."

Bernard laughs politely, "I know what you mean. I can't tell you how many times being nice to the host at the restaurant I used to work at saved my butt during rush hour."

"A man after my own heart!" Young-joon says, smiling widely as he leads him to the help desk.

Bernard tilts his head up to look at the skylight. It's a gorgeous thing with little animal motifs running alongside it. It lights up the lobby bringing a welcoming feeling into it. With the sunlight pouring into the room, along with the din of busy workers in slacks running to and fro, it really feels like stepping into a movie.

Are you seeing me Darls?, he thinks with a childlike glee, hand coming up to thumb at his badge again, I made it!

"This, my friend," Young-joon says, pulling up to the help-desk, "is our wonder-duo. Tamara and Abhishek. They practically run this building. Lord knows we'd be tripping all over ourselves without them."

Tamara and Abhishek smile as they get introduced.

"They run this building?" he asks confusedly.

"You see, young padawan," Abhishek says, "not only do we help the people that come in here asking questions or for instructions, we also answer any questions the staff has for us."

"Things like, 'What's HR’s number?' or 'Can you page Data for me?' or 'No seriously, I'm calling HR on this man right now. What is their number?'" Tamara says grinning.

Bernard laughs. It feels like that's all he's been doing since he got here. "You have to tell me the story on that one day."

"Sorry," Tamara says, faux-apologetic, "the minimum clearance on that story is half-a-year. Gotta level up."

His cheeks hurt from smiling. This is his and Mori's new beginning. This is where they level up. Nothing's gonna stop him now.

"Do you know the story behind that one?" he asks, turning to Young-joon.

"Of course! But where would be the fun in telling you? You have to stay the six months and if luck comes my way, longer."

"You want me for longer?"

"Of course, I saw the way you worked during those practice problems in the interview. I had to fight the other team leaders for you. It was brutal."

"Get back I say!" Young-joon says, miming a sword fight. A pleased warmth builds in his chest; they wanted him, they wanted him!

Darls you better be fucking watching this. I'm movin' up in the world.

"Ooh, send me that footage. I wanna see our newest recruits skills," Abhishek says.

"You got the data team fighting over you?" Tamara asks, eyebrows raised, "I wanna see it—"

Whatever she was going to say is cut off by the sound of both of their pagers pinging. Immediately going stock still, they start typing on their computers.

Bernard turns to Young-joon confused but his team leader looks like nothing is out of the ordinary.

"The boss is coming." Young-joon says, like that's a reasonable explanation for two people shutting down in the middle of the conversation, "It's always quite a spectacle and they always have to notify the other execs. Just watch."

Still, the boss? Maybe Bruce Wayne will say 'hi' to him and he'll charm the CEO and Mr. Wayne can figure out a way to—

No, no. He's done making those kinds of fantasies. Nobody is coming to help. Bernard is going to figure out his life on his own, he is going to take such good care of his kid, and he is not going to wait for some rich billionaire to swoop in and take care of him. He got this far didn't he? He'll get even farther.

He and his team leader lean against the help desk sipping coffee as they wait for the CEO to come in and sure enough, a black Rolls Royce pulls up to the driveway in the front. The minute the door opens, flashes from the paparazzi's cameras start going off. Out steps a bodyguard in a black suit with an umbrella opened. From below the umbrella he sees a nice pair of brown loafers step out. The CEO seems to be wearing a navy blue suit today. The paparazzi roars and the flashes increase.

"Oh wow," a man remarks a few feet away from him, "the circus is strong today, huh?" His friend laughs.

A woman wearing red heels steps out after the CEO, the paparazzi flashes decrease dramatically. More bodyguards exit after the woman and form a square around the CEO and his assistant/secretary. They shuffle towards the entrance where he sees the elderly doormen greet the executives with a smile. Whatever they say is lost to the sound of the city but the doormen laugh and push the doors open.

Young-joon's been making small talk throughout the entrance and Bernard tries to keep up but whatever the hell is going on at the entrance is way more interesting than anything his team leader is talking about. As they enter the guards spread out and dissolve the square. The woman comes into view first, red heels with a black slacks and a white button down. She's holding a long coat in one hand and a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. She's gorgeous and clearly the one in charge, going by the way she barks orders at the guards.

Young-joon says something and he turns around to respond, grabbing his coffee cup off the desk counter. His CEO's loafers tap across the lobby's marble floor, something about it is comforting. A lull in the room's conversations causes the CEO's voice to carry over.

"...Tam, make sure the quarterly reports are on my desk by at least 4 today and make sure to push back the sales meeting by 30 minutes to an hour, the board wants to talk — Oh Mr. Bardakcı! Thank you for stay—..."

Bernard's heart jackrabbits in his chest. He knows that voice but- it can't be. It's not possible; he chose Wayne Enterprises for a reason. He's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be at his father's company. Unless... there was a merger? No, that seems like the kind of thing the news wouldn't've shut up about. He would've known.

When was the last time you had time to sit down and read the news, Bear? Darls says inside his head

She's right. With filing for custody of Mori and graduating from college and the job search, he hasn't had time for much else. It's entirely possible that he could've missed one of the biggest mergers of the decade.

Fuck, Fuck.

He wasn't supposed to be here. Bernard was supposed to be moving on. He was supposed to be building a life for himself away from the shadows of his childhood. He was supposed to be forgetting that Tim Drake ever existed.

He has to make sure though. Turning his body around, he prays that it's not the man he thinks it is. But sure enough, there stands Tim Drake, resplendent in a navy blue suit and a golden tie.

Golden ties for golden boys, he thinks absentmindedly.

The suit fits him perfectly, stretching across his shoulders and wrapping around his waist. Even the tie looks knotted perfectly. How long did it take him to learn, Bernard wonders. He could never get it right back in high school. Does his assistant Tam do it- no, no! This is why he didn't apply to Drake Industries. Bernard can't do anything around Tim and Tim is never going to care enough about him to stay.

Tim's head seems to be turning in his direction and Bernard whips his head back to make sure Tim doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him. His hand twitches violently enough that the coffee cup falls out of his hand and spills all over the floor. The cup rattles deafeningly on the floor. Bernard can't fucking breathe.

"-ernard? Bernard!" his team leader's voice cuts through the haze in his head. Young-joon looks concerned, "Are you okay?"

He blinks slowly, "...What?"

"I said, 'Are you okay?’ You look like you've seen a ghost?"

No, Bernard thinks, seeing Darls would be preferable to whatever level of hell I've found myself in.

"I'm—, I'm fine." he says rather unconvincingly. His eyes dart back to the spill, "What am I saying? There's a large puddle of coffee on the floor. I—, I should get some paper towels for that."

"Do you have any paper towels, Wonder-Duo?" he asks, trying desperately to ignore Tamara and Abhishek's concerned looks.

"I already called the custodial staff," Tamara says slowly, like she’s trying not to spook him, "but if it makes you feel any better," she pulls out a huge stack of paper towels, "go crazy, I guess."

Bernard takes a handful of paper towels and gets to work. The cleaning is meditative and with each swipe of the paper towel, the puddle gets smaller. Bernard pretends the puddle is his feelings for Tim. Swipe, forget about the 4pm milkshakes and his laughter when Darls snorted milk out of her nose. Swipe, don't think about the way he used to smell. Swipe, he left and never looked back; you don't look back either.

The tap, tap, tap of loafer on marble is getting closer to them for some reason. Why is it getting closer? Does it not have staff meetings, market research, and people to leave behind?

"What is going on here?" Tim asks.

"Nothing much, sir." Abhishek responds, "Newbie just spilled some coffee."

Abhishek, no!

"Oh is that all? And he took the initiative to start cleaning instead of waiting for the custodial staff. You made a good choice, Young-joon."

"Thank you, sir!" Young-joon says, "I was taking him on the tour when you came in. Most newbies love the show so I thought we'd stop here for a little bit."

Tim laughs. Bernard hates that his heart still skips a beat at the sound.

A pair of brown loafers and a wool-covered knee slowly appear in his vision. Why is Tim crouching in front of him? Why won't this man leave him alone?

"This looks like quite a lot of work, let me help."

You can help by leaving me the hell alone, he thinks uncharitably.

"I hope you found the facilities to your liking," Tim continues, like he hadn't heard Bernard's thoughts, "My name is Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO."

I know, he wants to say. I know you're Tim Drake. I know you like to skateboard and that you stared at Tony Hawk's photo for an hour every day in high school ‘cause didn't want to be one of those people who didn't recognize him. I know you struggled with your dad not really being there. I know you loved Mrs. Winters as much as you loved your mom. I know that you like history more than any other subject even though your best was always math.

Bernard says nothing instead.

Tim laughs awkwardly and Bernard knows he isn't helping the conversation along but whatever, he's allowed to be petty, right?

"I assure you, whatever you heard in the tabloids and the news, isn't true. I promise I won't bite…," Tim’s voice trails off as Bernard lifts his head.

"...Bernard?" Tim whispers, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

Bernard tries for a smile, he's pretty sure it comes out looking like a grimace.

"Sir," he says nodding curtly, hands still moving to sweep up the coffee puddle.

Tim's hand reaches out to touch his face, as if to make sure Bernard is really there. Bernard recoils as Tim's hand grazes his cheek. Tim's hand hangs in the air uselessly.

"Bernard?" Tim says again, as if to make sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him.

"That's my name, Sir," he says through clenched teeth, "don't wear it out."

He can feel Young-joon and the Wonder-Duo's confused stare but he says nothing. What would he even say, really?

Hey, this is my old friend Tim Drake? Hey, I used to know him like the back of my hand? Hey, our best friend died and it feels like I'm the only one still grieving? Hey, in my junior year, five different gangs shot up my school and my best friend died in my arms and he left and I had to pick up the pieces by myself? Hey, I'm the idiot that's still in love with Tim Drake?

The clack of Tam's heels comes as a welcome distraction.

"Tim!" she says, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, "What the hell do you think you're doing? We have to go talk to the board. Build rapport with your employees later."

Tim stumbles to his feet, "Yes, but—, I—, This is—"

He sounds like he's glitching. Bastard. Is it really such a surprise to see Bernard in a well paying job? Even Tam is starting to look a little concerned now.

"Explain later," she commands, dragging Tim behind her. Bernard keeps his head down and continues wiping up the coffee puddle. Sneaking a glance upward shows him that Tim keeps turning back around to stare at him.

For a moment their eyes meet, brown against blue. 'Bernard?' he sees Tim mouth. Bastard, saying his name so many times. Doesn't he know what that does to Bernard? Why does Tim insist on breaking his heart again and again and again? Was once not enough?

He's tired of putting these walls up and just for a second, he lets them come down. Let Tim see the entirety of his brokenness. Tim already has his heart, he can have this too.

'Tim' he mouths back, smiling sadly. Tim looks stunned and the rage that had been simmering in his gut begins to boil over.

Do you see what I've become? Do you see how thoroughly Grieves ruined me? Is this not your doing too? Why did you leave? Have you ever visited Darla? Why was it so easy for you to not look back? Was I not your friend? Or was it just a time pass? Why wasn't I enough for you to stay?

He watches until the elevator doors close, separating him from Tim once again. His body sags like a marionette cut from its strings and his fingers clench uselessly around the coffee soaked paper towels. A hand lands on his shoulder and he flinches.

"Hey, hey," Young-joon soothes from where he's crouched right next to him. When did Young-joon crouch down? How much time has he missed? "It's just me, Bernard. Are you okay? What was that? Does our CEO know you?"

He exhales shakily. He needs to get out of here. He needs to sob hard enough he throws up. He needs the steady press of a knife on his back. He needs things he's not allowed to have anymore.

Bernard shoots up so fast the world spins around him. holding onto the desk for support, he tries to smile at his team leader. It stretches across his face misshapenly.

"I'm—, I'm sorry," he says stumbling over his words in a rush to get them out, "I have to—"

He has to what? Pretend to not see Darls out of the corner of his eye? Pretend like his hands don't have blood on them? Pretend like he isn't seeing bullet wounds every time he closes his eyes?

"—go to the bathroom," he finishes lamely. Gathering up all of the paper towels, he walks away dazedly, ignoring Young-joon's calls behind him. He shoves the towels in the nearest trashcan, letting his feet lead him to the nearest bathroom.

The bathroom is thankfully empty when he enters and he locks the door behind him. Sliding down the door, he exhales shakily. There's not enough air in this room; he can't breathe. The fluorescent lights hum above their coverings. The one on the left flickers. Who's bright idea was it to install school lights in a business office's bathroom?

The world outside the bathroom rushes on too loudly. Somebody is talking about their vacation. Someone is bemoaning their presentation today. His chest is getting tighter. His hands come up to tug on his hair. Why can't he breathe?

The exhales are coming quicker and quicker. Something comes tapping down the hallway. It's the gunmen, it has to be. A quick glance down tells him all he needs to know: he's covered in blood.

It's Lila's, he thinks dazedly, I had to carry her into the office. Or no, it's Olu's. I held him when he died. He said, he said, what did he say?

Why can't he remember? He hits his head with the heel of his palm.

Think he tells himself, we have to tell Olu's parents what he said. He said—, he said—.

His body sags.

Oh now he remembers. He said, "I don't wanna die Bernard."

A whimper tears itself out of his throat and he slaps a palm over his mouth. There's blood smeared across his face now, he must look like he walked out of a slasher film. He has to be quiet. if he's too loud, the gunmen will find them and then they'll all be dead.

Cry quietly, he tells himself, Darls doesn't need—

Darla! How could he forget about Darla with a hole in her gut? He needs to get to her. Lurching forward, he scrabbles across Mrs. Castillo's linoleum floor. He's smearing Olu's blood everywhere. Why won't Nikhil stop fucking crying so loudly? Goddamn freshmen and their hysterics. Where is Tim? Is he safe? He can't lose both friends today, please Lord, please.

BANG!

A violent flinch tears through his body. He sobs audibly this time, gagging on his spit. It's the gunmen, it has to be. He hasn't even held Darls' hand or counted Tim's moles for the last time. Where are the Darls? She shouldn't be alone. She doesn't like violence like this.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" a voice asks from behind him.

He freezes. Slowly he turns around and nearly yells in shock. Falling back on his butt, he stares up at his friend.

(He has to be quiet, he has to be quiet, he has to be quiet-)

Darls is standing behind him still in her crop top and cargo pants. Her once smooth midsection, bloodied and warped. The bullet wound still drips blood.

Plink, plink, plink.

Bernard hates the scent of iron.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" she asks, her voice echoing, "I thought we were friends."

There’s blood dripping down the side of her mouth. Now he remembers, the blood on him isn’t Olu’s or Lila’s — although there is that too — it’s almost overwhelmingly Darla’s. He’s covered in it. Elbows deep in it. It streaks up his arms like a macabre tattoo. He wore a white shirt to school today. The stains will never come out. He is Carrie at the end of prom, mortified and humiliated.

He crawls backwards until his back hits the wall, the impact knocking him out of the worst of that night. He's back in the bathroom. The lights hum loudly overhead. Darla hasn’t left yet.

She tilts her head, “Why didn’t you help me, Bear? I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” he rasps out, “we are friends.”

“Are we?” her eyes have no pupils. His Darls had eyes that shone in the sunlight. His Darls is dead. “Then why am I still bleeding? Why am I still hurting? Why is there a bullet in my stomach, Bear?!”

She’s shouting by the end and he flinches. His hands can’t seem to stop tugging at his hair. The blood must’ve smeared all over it. Talk about taking strawberry blond literally.

“I swear I did everything I could Darls,” he sobs out quietly, voice cracking, “I followed all of Mrs. Castillo’s instructions as best I could. I put pressure and tied the dressing as tight as I could.”

“You thought that was enough?” she snarls, hands coming down to grip the wound. It twists grotesquely; he gags, “You think any of that matters when I’m dead and you’re still alive?”

“Please, please. You know I wouldn’t leave you to die, Darls. Please, please, please believe me.”

“Liar, liar!” she screams, blood dripping out of her mouth onto her pink LOVE shirt. It darkens as each drop hits it. Soon it’ll be completely drenched and she’ll be drowning in it. Where did his smiling friend go? “I’m dead, Bear! I’m dead, dead, dead and it’s all your fault! Why didn’t you save me?! Why didn’t you save me?!”

He keens, body curling in on itself. One hand goes down to press on his throat; he’s making too much noise. Nikhil’s just a freshman. He shouldn’t have to die just because Bernard couldn’t shut up for once in his life.

“Please,” he whispers raggedly, “I tried, I tried. I swear I tried, Darls.”

“It hurts, Bear,” she sobs. Darla’s too young to be sounding so wrecked, “It hurts so much. Please help me.”

All of sudden, it’s too much. The taste of iron sits heavy on his tongue and Darla won’t stop sobbing. His fingers fumble for his phone and he presses one. It rings once, twice and finally on the third ring does a voice answer.

“Bear?” the other side says groggily.

“Ty please, I can't do this anymore,“ he sobs.

Tyrone suddenly sounds a lot more alert, “Bear what’s going on?”

“Darla won’t stop crying and she keeps on screaming that it’s my fault she died.” he wails, “I know I should’ve done more but please, can you tell her I tried? That I stayed with her until the end? She won’t listen to me, Ty. She won’t listen to me.”

There’s a muffled yell of ‘Babe!” on the other end. “Yeah,” Ty breathes out, “I’ll tell her.”

“You put me on speaker, okay?” Ty instructs, “And you gotta tell me if she’s nodding or if she’s gone or if she said anything, alright? I can’t see her.”

“Okay,” he whispers, pulling the phone away from his ear to press the speaker button.

“You tell me when to start, Bear,” he says, voice filling the bathroom. Darla looks up from where she’s sobbing.

“You can start now Ty,” he rasps out, holding the phone out.

“Hey Darla,” Ty says, “Bear told me you said a lotta mean things about him. Stuff like, ‘he’s the reason you died’ and that ‘he never cared’. Darla, you gotta believe me when I say Bear never stopped caring. He held your hand the whole way through. Told you stories about all the things you two were gonna do once you got out of that nurse’s office. He tried, Darla, honest. I’ve never seen him as focused as when you stopped breathing and Mrs. Castillo had him give you CPR. He couldn’t stop sobbing the whole time.”

“But I’m still dead,” she says.

“But I’m still dead,” he repeats.

Ty inhales sharply, “Yeah,” he says thickly, “you are. And I’ll never stop being sorry about that. But you can’t take that out on Bear. He’s just trying to live his life.”

Darls’ face twists up like a childs, “But it hurts,” she cries.

“But—, but it hurts,” he repeats, voice hitching.

Ty curses, “Oh, fuck. I can’t do this. Babe, can you—?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“Hey, Darla. It’s me, Jimmy from the football team. I don’t know if you remember me but I remember you. After high school, me and Tyrone ended up getting married. Somewhere between shitty weed brownies and bad college parties, we fell in love. Isn’t that nice?”

Darls nods; he tells them as such.

“We visited you after the ceremony. I hope you felt that wherever you are these days. But the point I’m trying to make is that from all I’ve told you just now, you can probably figure out that Ty and I didn’t go pro like we planned. The shooting fucked up Ty’s knee and and my arm. After the hospital stays, playing football for a whole bunch of people just didn’t sound appealing anymore. We’re high school teachers now. Ty teaches math and I teach gym. When it rains or gets cold, my arm and Ty’s knee hurts like hell. But Darla, it doesn't hurt forever. It gets better, I promise.”

“Darla,” Jimmy says, voice unusually serious, “you’re right, you are dead and it does hurt. I’m sorry, I’ll never stop being sorry. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away for you; I’m not too much of an expert on the supernatural. Ty’s the smart one, after all. But I love you, Ty loves you, Bear loves you. I hope that when it hurts the most you can use that as a balm.”

“Auntie Bea loves you too!” Ty’s mom hollers from the background, “Aunt Betty, too!”

Ty laughs wetly and Jimmy snorts, “Does that sound okay?” they ask.

Darls smiles, her teeth stained red from all the blood that built up in her mouth. Bernard misses her with an ache he feels in his bones. Darls nods.

“She nodded,” he says quietly. He blinks once and she’s gone. Where did she go? Doesn’t she know that the gunmen are still at large? She needs to be somewhere safe. He can’t lose a friend today.

“Bear, Bear, you gotta breathe. Take a deep breath for me, c’mon,” Jimmy says.

“She’s gone, Jim. She’s gone again. Why does she keep leaving?” he says, crying. His body can’t stop trembling. How long has he been here? How much time has he missed?

“I miss the cult,” he whispers, “I never had things like this happen when I was with them.”

“Yeah,” Ty snaps, “‘Cause you were high off of like 50 different pain meds ‘cause you let them whip you.”

“Ty, not helping.”

“Move over, let me talk to him."

"Hey, sweetheart," Auntie Bea's voice crackles through his tiny speaker, "I know you're tired and I know you're hurting. I know you miss the cult but you gotta breathe for me, okay? You're gonna pass out otherwise."

"I can't, I can't," he gasps out. 

"Sure you can, you just gotta tell me five things you can see. Can you list those five things for me?"

Bernard desperately tries to get his breathing under control, "The sink is dirty."

"Good, good. Anything else?" 

"The tiles need to be re-grouted."

Aunt Betty barks out a laugh. Bernard's lips twitch upward.

"Keep going."

"My pants, my white shirt, my ID badge," he rattles off.

They talk him through the rest of the grounding techniques and by the time he feels like he's in control again, he's exhausted. His eyes hurt and his throat is dry. 

"Can you tell us why you spiraled so hard, Bear? This hasn't happened in a long time," Jimmy asks.

"I spoke to Tim again," he says simply. He pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to the sink. Setting the phone down on the counter, he grips the sink with both hands and just breathes. The Bernard in the mirror looks like he just came out of a warzone, eyes haunted, hair messed up. 

"Oh fuck," Ty says, "Where did you even meet him?"

"At my new job at Wayne Ent."

"Why would you apply there?" Jimmy asks, stressed.

"I didn't know! It's not like I've had a lotta time in the past few years to check the news!"

"Well, whatever, what’s done is done." Ty says, ever practical, "Are you going to quit?"

"No!” he says vehemently.

“No,” he repeats quieter, “Wayne has the best benefits and Mori needs that. I’ll just suck it up and try to avoid him.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Aunt Betty says.

“Ma!”

“Oh be quiet Jimmy. I’ve never heard of a more stupider thing. He’s your CEO, Bear, and he knows you work there. He’s obviously going to want ‘to catch up’ or whatever. There is no avoiding him. Can you handle that?”

What can he say? Aunt Betty is right. He can’t handle talking to Tim. Even seeing Tim felt like touching a live wire. He can’t deal with another episode. Mori doesn’t need him to be fucked up, Mori needs him to be the stable adult he promised the courts he was. 

“You can’t, sweetheart,” she says softly, “you can’t handle it.”

There’s some shuffling on the other end of the phone. 

“Bear,” Ty says gently, “I love you, man. You’re my brother. Jimmy loves you, Mama loves you, Aunt Betty loves you. But you gotta start thinking about therapy.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, “I shouldn’t’ve dragged you into this. I’m—”

Ty cuts him off with an exasperated huff, “It’s not about that Bear. I’ll keep talking to your hallucinations for as long as you need me too. Even when we’re seventy, I’ll do it for you. I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want you to be happy and healthy. I don’t want you to keep seeing Darla. I don’t want you to keep trying to scrub the blood off your hands. 

“And I know you’ve been avoiding therapy ‘cause you don’t got the money and ‘cause talking about your problems is scary but it’s not just you anymore. You got Mori now. That custody claim is going through. You can’t just avoid things ‘cause they’re hard now. You work at Wayne now; that paycheck is more than enough to set a few dollars aside each month to save up for therapy. Hell, mental health probably comes with your medical benefits. Please, Bear. If you can’t get help for you, then do it for us, for Mori. Please stop making us watch you hurt.”

Bernard exhales shakily.

“I never wanna find you the way we did after the cult, Bear. I never wanna see you in the hospital bed like that again. Please don’t do that to us, please,” Ty whispers.

Unconsciously, his hand comes up to rub at the scar left behind from the sacrifice. It stretches along the length of his sternum, jagged and rough. On good days, he can pretend that it’s a scar from a heart surgery. He doesn’t have that many good days.

Bernard presses the heel of his palms into his eyes before using his hands to scrub at his face. He’s always so tired these days.

“Okay,” he says simply, “okay.”

“Okay?” Ty asks hopefully.

“Okay, you’re right. It’s not just me anymore. Mori deserves the best and I’m gonna give it to him. And I love Tim, I think I’ll always love Tim but he clearly doesn’t give a shit about me. So I gotta make my peace with it or I’ll go crazy.”

Ty whoops, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he chants.

“Bear, it’s still the middle of the workday,” Jimmy says, although he too, sounds happy. Auntie Bea and Betty are muttering about a feast, he thinks. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“Yeah, that’s if I’m not fired already,” he mutters.

“Hey!” Jimmy admonishes, “Optimism only, no pessimism.”

“Alright, alright. I gotta get back to work now. Thanks guys.”

“Of course, we’ll let you go now. Ma wants me to tell you that we’re having dinner at your place today.”

“Aunt Betty,” he whines, “I haven’t cleaned and you and Auntie Bea are just looking for a reason to spoil Mori.”

“Absolutely,” they say, unashamed, “he’s our only grandson. We have to spoil him.”

“Fine,” he sighs but he’s smiling. Fuck, he loves these people. God knows he wouldn’t have survived the past six years without them.

“Bye Bear,” they say before he hangs up, “Good luck on your first day!”

He cuts the phone and slides it back into his pocket. Turning on the tap, he splashes some cold water onto his face. Using his wet hands, he tries to rearrange his mussed up hair into something acceptable for an office job.

Time to face the music Darls, he tells her smiling face in the mirror. She gives him a thumbs up in return.

The walk back to his office feels like a death sentence. He’s fucked this up, he knows it. Freaking out over a small interaction with his CEO and then running away only to come back two hours later? It’s over, done for. Bernard takes comfort in the fact that at least the severance package will be nice.

Stepping into the office, immediately draws the eyes of his team members. Every step towards his team leader’s office feels nerve-wracking. Just before he enters, Esperanza, the team’s second in command, stops him.

“Whatever happened,” she says, “just explain it to him. Young-joon’s a reasonable man, he’s not gonna yell at you.”

Some of the tension leaves him and he nods. Knocking on the door, he enters. His team leader looks up and smiles.

“Ah, Bernard! Why don’t you take a seat for me?”

He crosses his wrists behind his back, “I’d rather stand, sir.”

His team leader looks confused, “‘Sir’? Just call me Young-joon like I told you.”

“Anyway, after you left, I took the liberty of going through your file to see if there was anything I missed. I hope that wasn’t overstepping my boundaries.”

“No s-, Young-joon. You’re fine.”

Young-joon sighs and pushes the file he was reading before Bernard came in forward. It’s his file. 

“I’m going to say some statements,” he says, “and I want you to confirm whether it’s true or not. If any of these questions make you uncomfortable, just tell me okay? I’ll drop it immediately.”

Bernard nods.

“You went to Louis E. Grieves Memorial High School.”

“Yes.”

“Based on the dates you put in your file, you were there for the shooting.”

“...Yes. Junior year.”

“You know our CEO.”

“Yes,” he breathes out.

“How?”

He used to fall asleep on my shoulder during lunch and I would listen to him breathe. He’s got moles all over his face. Darls once connected them with a sharpie. His step-mom was so hot, I thought I’d spontaneously combust every time she smiled. HIs dad didn’t really like me and flirting with his wife didn’t help my case. The Drake condo had a crocheted flower blanket on the sofa that his mom had made during her pregnancy. He liked to skateboard but couldn’t roller-blade to save his life. I have all this love and nowhere to put it.

“It’s a little private,” he says instead.

“I’m only asking because we work quite closely with him. We see him often and if that makes you uncomfortable, then I can have you transferred to another team.”

His shoulders sag, “We went to Grieves together for one year. Our mutual friend died. It’s a little hard to look at him.”

“Jesus Christ.” Young-joon says, “Okay well the offer is still on the table, Bernard. Do you want to be transferred?”

“No, I like your team. I’d like to stay,” he says, firmly.

“Are you sure?” Youn-joon asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” and it’s like a switch had flipped. Gone is his serious team leader and in its place is the man he met this morning.

“If you plan on staying,” he says smiling, “then my primary recommendation is that you use the medical benefits the company gives you to find a therapist. If you need help, the infirmary here will walk you through it.” 

Oh thank god it comes included with his medical, Ty will be overjoyed to hear that. But first, he has to ask Young-joon why he’s doing all this. Bernard knows his experience with authority figures is a little skewed towards the shitty side of the spectrum but even so, people usually aren’t so kind in his experience.

“Why are you doing this? Why didn’t you fire me? Why are you helping me?”

Young-joon chuckles, “Do you want to be fired?”

“No! But still, why are you helping me?”

Young-joon sighs and stands up. Walking around his desk, he stops right in front of Bernard. Young-joon puts a hand on his shoulder.

“This city takes a lot out of its people, believe me I know. And you were so young, when Gotham took her piece of you. It wasn’t fair of you to go through that. Just like it wasn’t fair to me and my wife when we got kidnapped as children. These kinds of things don’t go away. I still get worked up over zip-ties. My wife still has nightmares. All you can do is learn to live with it.

“You seem like a good kid with a good head on your shoulders. I’d hate to see all that potential go to waste ‘cause you kept getting trapped in your mind. I had a lot of help to get to where and who I am today. Consider this, me paying it forward. One day, I hope you can pay it forward too.”

His eyes feel suspiciously wet. “Thank you,” he chokes out, “thank you.”

Young-joon laughs, “There’s no need for the waterworks, Bernard. Now, pack up your things and go home. You’re in no state to analyze data today but I expect you here at 9AM sharp tomorrow, alright?”

Bernard mock salutes, “Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Bernard.”

Right before he exits, he turns around and calls out his team leader’s name.

“Young-joon,” Young-joon looks up confused, “you can call me Bear, by the way.”

A wide grin stretches across his team leader’s face, “Okay then. Goodbye Bear, see you tomorrow.”

Walking out of the office, it feels like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders. Esperanza takes one look at him and snorts.

“You just got Young-joon-ed, huh?”

His jaw drops, “He does that often enough you guys have a name for it?”

The other team members laugh, “Welcome to Data Analysis Team 1, kiddo. We look forward to working with you from now on.”

Smiling, he gathers his things and leaves after a few goodbyes. Once outside the building, the smile drops. It’s an hour-and-a-half bus ride from Wayne Tower to his house. The bus stop sits right in front of the tower too. Some new initiative by the mayor to promote the city moving towards green energy. Hey look, even rich people take the bus! What a fucking joke.

The tower warps the sunlight around it and he stares up at the top floor. Is Tim watching? Can Tim see him from up there? Does he care or was it just the shock of seeing someone he once knew this morning? Has Tim ever thought about him, about them? Or were they just moments in his life? Perpendicular lines, intersecting once and then never again.

I miss you, he thinks staring at the top floor, I miss you more than anything but I’ll walk into oncoming traffic before I ever reach for you again.

The bus pulls up next to him and he snags a seat in the back. Dropping his head onto the seat in front of him, he stares out the window. Darls smiles back at him in the window reflection, perpetually sixteen. He’s twenty-two now.

Fuckin’ hell Darls, he thinks wearily, we’re really in it now.

Darls places her hand against the glass, he leans his shoulder onto it. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel her warmth.

We’ll make it through, she says.

The bus rumbles forward and he lets the cracked streets of Gotham lull him to sleep. He’ll make it through.

A/N: chami! i hope you like it!!! i've never gifted a fic before, i don't really know how this works. and to everyone who read it, i hope you liked it too! please leave your thoughts in the reblogs or replies!!! i miss the days when td:r was coming out and we were all collectively freaking out. anyway when i said loosely based, i really did mean loosely. props to you guys if you can figure out the direct references to the drama. but this is a one-shot. i'm not gonna be writing anything else for this 'verse? au? (god i'm always so worried im using em dashes wrong)

if you have questions or you're confused by something i wrote, feel free to ask questions or send an ask or message. oh, and i know some people like know the exact wordcount. so, it's exactly 6,785 words long. nice number right?

also, please note that if you want to make art or a podfic or hell, even fanfiction of this, feel free to do so! i hope that's not too presumptuous or anything. idk i see fanfic writers make this disclaimer all the time, so i thought i'd do it to.

thank you for reading!

#god i'm exhausted #writing the latter end of a fic always feels like finishing a marathon #no more fics for like the next 6 months (<- me when i lie) #anyway big fan of the bear hallucinates darla club! #currently there's only one member (me) but you can change that #also favorite trope ever is when you see a regular dude and you're like 'what a nice normal dude' and then you talk to him for like #5 minutes and you're like '/oh./ this dude has something wrong with him' #also the tyrone/jimmy pairing? do you see my vision? #also big fan of the the shooting was worse than what you see in rr club! #it's just there was a city-wide gang war and all the gangs came to grieves to kill darla and you're telling me only she died??? #i think way more people died. i think too many people died actually. i think the school had to do remote learning for all of tyrone's sr yr #cause the renovations were too much. #also just to clarify #the is hallucination!darla and there is the darls he sees all the time. no they are not the same to him. yes he is mentally ill. #also yes!! superheroes do exist in this world!!! i just didn't mention them. #also if we're being a little self-critical for a moment #(don't look at this part) i feel like i could've ended this at a way earlier point in the story but i had such a strong vision of what the #fic was supposed to be like that i just wrote everything #anyway lets start tagging #bernard dowd #tim drake #timbern #timber #dc #red robin tyrone #red robin jimmy

[comicglitterr0909]

As a community we NEED a fic where William actually gets arrested at the end, like imagine a romantic reader x Afton thing and he confesses his love and reveals his truths, and at the end it’s like, reader was actually a cop and your under arrest, and it ends w William saying I would have got away with it too if it wasn’t for you meddling- you get it. :)

I FELT REALLY BAD FOR NOT RESPONDING TO THIS FOR AWHILE, BUT IVE BEEN RLLY BUSY WITH WORK AND SCHOOL. SO THIS IS THE FIRST PART, IM MAKING THE SECOND PART RN AND I LEFT YOU ON A SMALL CLIFFHANGER RN ITS OKAY THOUGH. ALSO ITS ALREADY 2.9k+ WORDS SO I NEED A PART 2.

No because that's such a good idea though too and even though I’m a massive simp for William I think he definitely needs to be humbled. THE MANIPULATOR GETS MANIPULATED WHILE ALSO READER KINDA SIMPING FOR HIM IDK I COULDNT HELP IT it still ends the way u want though >:)

Also I'm naming this "Playing with Shadows" idk it feels right.

Stuff to know: Cursing, a lil obsessiveness, reader following “gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss” mentality, reader is an fbi agent cuz idk felt like it, kind of a more creepy tone to it, this is taken place before Freddy’s is abandoned and before any of Williams kids die, but his wife is gone cause shes not important >:D

Being an FBI agent, you get your fair share or surprising things that you see. And when I got assigned to go to a small town in Utah, investigating a pizzeria, I’d say it was surprising, but that would be the least of my concerns. After arriving there, I was finally informed on what my entire job would be for the next 3 to 4 months. 

My boss takes me into a private room, I sit down in front of his desk, he grabs a file, his eyes graze over it until he sighs looking back at me. “Agent y/ln. Your job is complicated, I won't lie to you. It will be an extreme mental challenge, but you're the best to do this.”

“You must first get a job interview with a man named William Afton. He is the owner of a restaurant named Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. After you get the interview you must also get the job, as a waitress there. Simple enough, but then, you will have to seduce him. That's the tough part, we believe he is responsible for the murder of 6 or more kids. We chose you not only from your skill set, but also because you look very similar to his ex-wife. He has 3 children, if you start getting along with them it might seem more attractive to him, your main goal. Get him to fall so in love with you, that he confesses the murders.” 

And with that the case that would affect me more than any other, starts.

The day of the interview, it's pouring down rain outside, there are only a few cars parked outside of Freddy’s, the sound of music can be heard from outside. I walk up to the door, opening it, my eyes scanning the room. There isn’t much, it is a tuesday though, the first things I see are two parents trying to get one of their kids to leave, and the second is the giant ass animatronics on stage, well 3 of them are on stage, another fox looking one is playing with a kid. Well it would have been nice if they told me about some creepy animatronics but whatever. After looking around for a few seconds a man approaches me, he’s tall, probably 6 '4 or 6' 5, with glasses. “William Afton, you must be y/n y/ln, here for the interview?” He says to me, offering his hand for me to shake. My boss never told me what he looked like, they tried not to tell me anything about him, they thought that it would be too suspicious for the highly intelligent serial killer if I accidentally slipped up and said something about something I “didn’t” know. Either way I return the smile, shaking his hand firmly.

“Yes that's correct, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” Y’know if you ignore the fact that he is probably a psychotic, narcissistic, serial killer, then he’s actually really hot. At least it wouldn’t be that repulsive seducing him. “Follow me then and we’ll get the interview started.” I take the chance to glance around the place once more, noticing his eldest son, Micheal, leaning against the wall rolling his eyes at his brother who was crying. The fbi showed me pictures of the children so I knew which ones to try and interact with. I followed him into his office, seeing only one family photo, it had his ex-wife in it, I do actually look a lot like her, huh. 

He motions me to sit in the chair in front of his desk, while walking to sit on his own. “So y/n, tell me what brings you here for the interview? Why here?” Oh right, what was I supposed to say, shit I forgot, good thing I was in theater as a kid, improvise. “Well, I really love the atmosphere of this place, even though being a waitress isn’t everyone's dream job, I think for now it would be a safe and fun job to have. I also am really good with kids so it's a plus to have them around.” Hell yeah theater kids for the win. He nods at my answer, thinking for a bit then writing something in a notepad he has, I see his gaze focus on the picture of his wife and kids then back at me, he narrows his eyes. Oh he definitely caught onto the similarities in our looks. 

“Y’know what y/n, I think I’m just getting a really good feeling about you, how soon can you start?” Either my improv is so good I should retire fbi and become an actor. Or the plan is working insanely well, and he misses his ex wife so much that having me around could take his mind off it. I really wish it was the first option, it's definitely the second. “Wow! Thank you so much sir! I can start tomorrow if that’d work?” He grins standing out of his chair, I do the same and shake his hand again. “Sounds perfect.” He walks me out of the building, his hand on my shoulder, to most it would be a friendly gesture. But when you know the blood that's been on his hands, you can’t help but have chills running down your spine. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n” He says, his eyes looking straight at me, it was terrifying because when I looked back into his eyes I saw nothing, but it felt like he could see everything in my eyes. I force a smile, waving and quickly walking to my car, driving away to my little apartment. I could barely sleep, my mind kept returning to the same look in his eyes, the same way a lion looks at its prey. I’m an FBI agent, I shouldn’t be this shaken by another murderer, but it just felt different, almost out of this world in some weird way, I guess it just didn’t feel real. But it was. And that’s the scary part. The other scary part was the feeling of being watched, I knew that my FBI friends were watching on cameras, only checking on me with texts, just in case William was stalking me. And that's what it felt like, the feeling of someone watching me, but I couldn’t do anything about it, I was supposed to encourage it actually. This is my job anyways, I’m safe and I’m not going to let some ,oddly attractive now that i think about it, creep scare me. So after giving myself a pep talk I was finally able to get some needed sleep. 

I woke up to the annoying ass alarm going crazy, I immediately shut it off, it was a mental battle to not just go back to sleep. When I got out of bed, the feeling of being watched was gone, which told me that William was most likely watching me last night, never gonna get used to that. After I get ready, put on the mini mic that records any conversations I have, and make myself look like a potential murderers ex wife, I head out the door, ready to start my “new job” at a totally wholesome children's place.

When I get there and walk through the doors I notice William was waiting for me, he smiles welcomely and pats my back. “y/n! So great to see you, are you ready to start your new job?” I smile back at him, at least it seems like he's in a good mood today, not a creepy kill all mood. No wait, he’s still probably in that mood. “Yeah, I’m really excited, thank you again for hiring me, I appreciate so, so much Mr Afton.” “Ah, you're welcome! I think you’ll be a great addition to have around.” He leads me towards the kitchen where a sleep deprived male teen who looks like he’s high, (he is) is lazily defrosting pizza dough and another worker, some 60 year old Betty is cutting and putting ingredients into containers. Basic pizza prep. When I walk into the kitchen, Williams hands still on my back, the 60 year old looks up and HARD glares at me. Bitch. I think Wiliam saw how hard Betty or whatever was glaring at me, so he tries to lift the mood. “Bethenny, Aaron, this is y/n, they are our new waitress so you don’t have to keep bringing the food out yourselves!” Bethenny, I was close enough. She looks more like the child murderer. “Hey.” Aaron says, even though he’s high, he looks pretty nice, he’s smiling at me. I wave at him politely while Bitcheny is still glaring at me, not saying a word. “Alright team! Well get to know each other cause y/n’s gonna be here awhile!” That's condescending, oh well. I try to be nice and smile at Bigassbetty and she has no reaction besides looking away and going back to chopping up vegetables. William finally takes his hands off my back and says good luck while walking back to his office. “Hey… guess I should introduce myself, my name is Aaron, it's nice to meet you.” Aaron says coming up to me with a friendly (high) smile. I greet him, trying to be friendly, and trying not to be repulsed by the strong smell of vape coming off of him. “Hey, i’m y/n, it's nice to see a *friendly* face.” I say, glaring at Betty while saying friendly. “Oh haha yeah, don’t mind her, she's just some grumpy bitch.” I laugh with him and Bethenny rolls her eyes.  We keep talking for a bit while I try to help prep the kitchen before Freddy’s opens. Once it does, a surprising amount of kids come in, even more surprising because it's Wednesday. 

Food quickly starts getting made, along with kids screaming and laughing and running around. I bring my first pizza order over to a table, smiling nicely at anyone who looks at me, getting mostly smiles back. A few hours pass and I finally get to hang out . It's not that hard, it's just bringing food to people and trying not to kick children who get in your way. As I’m bringing food to a table I notice a woman who looks a lot like me walk in with three kids, pushing them in with an even more bitchy look than Bethenny and leaving. Oh shit, those are Aftons kids. I put the pizza down, checking my watch, perfect timing, I'm on break now, which means I need to try and interact with the kids. I got a little information on some of the kids, I know Micheal is the oldest, he's a punk and a rebel, and he’d probably follow me around like a lost puppy if I offered him a smoke and talked to him about star wars, easy enough. Evan hates Freddy’s, so I’d probably need to comfort him and try to calm him down, make him laugh and cheer him up. Then Elizabeth, I could probably act like I found a barbie and give it to her saying “I couldn’t find the owner.” All pretty easy, hopefully. 

I decided to try and talk to Micheal first. I figured if the other siblings saw him laughing and talking to me, it would make it easier to talk to them. I waited for Micheal to get tired of his crying brother, as he walked outside. I quickly grab a smoke from my bag and head outside, I see William watch me with an intimidating grin as I wave at him and go outside. Once I get out their Micheal is already side-eyeing me, obviously suspicious and wary if I would snitch on him for smoking, that's until I pull out my own and quickly light it, I glance at him seeing his suspicion fall and his face become more relaxed. I noticed he doesn’t his lighter isn’t working, great for me. “Need me to light it for ya?” I say smiling at him, offering my lighter. He grins and nods. “Yeah, thanks” I nod and cup my hands over his cigarette, quickly lighting it as we both stand outside silently smoking. “So you're the new waitress here right?” I’m glad he started the conversation, to be honest I had no clue what to say. “Yeah, just got here today, I’d say it's going pretty well.” He chuckles while taking a puff of his cigarette. “Hah, just wait till the weekend, it's like hell, way too many kids in one spot.” I grin, “It gets worse than this?!” I say jokingly as we both laugh a bit, I see he has a star wars shirt on. “Who’s your favorite star wars character?” He smiles wide, clearly excited to talk about it. “Oh definitely Anakin, what's your Princess Leia or something?” He jokes. “Hell no (your fav star wars character)  is where it's at.” (If it's Princess Leia, sorry lmao). We stay out there for 10 minutes until we walk back inside, discarding the smokes, and continuing to argue about star wars while inside, which is good because William sees me talking and laughing with him. After my break ends I go back to working, occasionally stopping to talk to Micheal, and like I said he’s basically following me around all day. At the end of the day, I help clean up the kitchen a bit, the only three kids left are Aftons. Micheal looks like he’s waiting for me, clearly already attached to me, guess I’m good at my job. I can’t help but feel bad though, if we do catch William, these kids will hate me. It's all a part of the job. I finish cleaning walking out where William greets me with a big smile, I kinda wanna see what he looks like when hes not smiling, because its really fucking creepy that I haven’t seen him do anything but smile. “Y/N! You did great today, I was right, you make a perfect fit!” I see Micheal nod in agreement, William also sees that, somehow he seems even more happy and smiley than just a moment ago. “Ah I see you have met my brilliant son Micheal! He’s quite the kid eh?” God he really is obsessed with trying to make me their new mom. “Yeah well he certainly knows way too much about star wars.” I joke, Micheals face heats up with embarrassment. “Hey! I can like things!” He laughs and I laugh with him, William doesn’t take his eyes off me, he looks like he’s thinking, deciding something, and whatever it is, is about me.

The smallest son then comes up to me, Evan, and just holds onto my leg, wrapping his arms and legs around my leg. I raise an eyebrow and awkwardly laugh, not knowing what to do. Micheal starts laughing really hard, and William is chuckling. “Evan, let's get off of y/n now eh kid, they’ve got places to be.” Evan pouts and holds tighter onto my leg. That's when I start laughing, Elizabeth grins evilly and takes the chance to run over and grab my other leg. William and Micheal start to try and pry them off of me, we are all laughing. Like a family. I lose my balance and stumble back, falling, the kids both instinctively let go so they don't get hurt, before I can fall on the floor William catches me.

Look I know he’s a child murder but with a 6 '4 sexy tumblrman catching me like that, I'm gonna blush a little. And he lifted me back up like it was nothing, I love a strong man. WOAH pause, I am not gonna fall for a killer. Wait, there is still a small chance this could be a misunderstanding, no, I have to remember how creepy he is, like I get bad vibes from him. Then again I get bad vibes from all men. “You alright y/n” Oh shit right, I forgot where I was for a moment. “Yeah haha, thanks, at least we got them off right?” I grin and laugh with them all. Evan tugs on William's pant leg, motioning for him to bend down so Evan can whisper something to him, William does so. He starts laughing and stands back up. “Evan was wondering if you wanted to come have dinner with us sometime.” I smile and nod. “I would love to!” The family lights up, all of them smiling. “How about tomorrow, can’t you just close Freddy’s a bit earlier Dad?” Micheal suggests. “That's a great idea kiddo, how does that sound to you y/n?” The plan is working perfectly. Well, almost perfectly, I’m getting attached to this family, even the guy who might be a murderer. I part of me is wishing, that its all a misunderstanding, that some other fucked up guy killed or took those kids, that this family is perfectly fine and I could fit right in. But the other part of me knows I need to stick to the job, and that fucking sucks. 

“That works perfectly, I will see you all tomorrow!”

And with that I wave goodbye to the Afton family, before driving back to my apartment, staring at the ceiling before somehow falling asleep. 

ALRIGHT GUYS ILL TRY AND GET PART 2 OUT ASAP 😭

#fnaf #purple guy #william afton #william afton x you #william afton x reader #fnaf william afton #springtrap #spring bonnie #steve raglan x you #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #william afton angst #afton family #afton fnaf

[burntheedges-updates]

Preview: Over Again

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming.

or, 5 times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse

a/n: this is an excerpt from a longer fic that is almost finished! check back soon (or follow) for the full fic. I haven't written anything in like 15 years, and Joel Miller dragged me back in. sharing this as part of the Pedro Pascal cinematic universe discord server event! join us!

warnings: 18+, minors DNI in this excerpt - banter, a little bit of pining, but mostly fluff. reader is 26, Joel is 33 (at this time - picture him just like he looks in that gif ^^). for the full fic - a teensy bit of angst (plus the angst of thinking the other person is dead for 20 years (apocalypse)), cursing, wall sex, will add the full list once I have it... I’m trying to have a reader with as little description as possible (in this excerpt they’re a person with hair) but please let me know if you see anything I should change.

wordcount: 2300 (for this preview)

Main post & chapter list | chapter 1 | ao3

Austin, TX, Spring 2001

On Sunday, you changed your outfit 5 times before telling yourself to get a grip and putting back on the first thing you had pulled out of your closet, 45 minutes before. Joel had seen literally all of these clothes before, he’d lived next door to you for 6 months. Get it together. You looked at yourself in the mirror, messed with your hair one last time, and then forced yourself to leave the bathroom and head downstairs. 

In the kitchen, you glanced at the clock – 5:54pm – and picked up the cookies you baked that morning, heading next door to the Millers’. 

You knocked on the door, and after a few moments with no response you knocked again. Odd. You put your ear to the door and heard music, and Sarah laughing. You tried the door and realized it was unlocked. 

As you crossed the threshold you called out, “Millers? Anyone home?” Inside you could more clearly hear the music coming from the backyard, so you left the cookies in the kitchen and headed towards the back door.

You found the backdoor open, and you could hear Sarah laugh again as you moved closer. “Dad come on, you stepped on my toes!”

“Sarah Miller, I raised you not to tell lies.” Joel sounded out of breath, but he was laughing as he said it.

“Well, that’s definitely a lie if I ever heard one.” Tommy jumped out of the way as Joel steered Sarah right into him in retaliation. You leaned in the doorway, smiling as you watched Joel lead Sarah around the yard to Rie y Llora. They hadn’t noticed you yet. 

“Celia Cruz, huh?”

All three Millers turned at your question, all three smiling at you. It was a little overwhelming, as always, to have the attention of all three at once. Sarah elbowed her dad lightly and laughed, saying, “She’s Abuela's favorite.” Joel rolled his eyes. “It’s good music to learn to,” he muttered, clearly not for the first time. 

“It looks to me like Sarah already knows what she’s doing.” You smiled at the look he shot your way.

“Ha! See, dad?”

“Sure, baby girl. Why don’t you go take Uncle Tommy for a spin, since you know what you’re doing.” With that, Joel spun Sarah towards Tommy, who caught her easily and started leading her around the yard. You laughed, and then looked back towards Joel. He was watching you with that half smile that always gave you goosebumps. 

“Do you know how to dance, darlin’?”

“In a club? Sure. Like that? No way.” 

He grinned at your answer. “Want to learn?” He held his hand out, guiding you towards him once you placed your hand in his. 

“I’ve never danced like this before. I’ll probably stomp all over your feet.” Joel placed your right hand on his shoulder, and took your left hand in his right.

“You let me worry about where our feet go. I’ll show you the basics and then you just follow me.” And over the next 15 minutes, that’s exactly what he did. 

Soon you found yourself slowly moving around the yard to Lambada, definitely slower than the music called for. At some point Tommy and Sarah went inside to work on finishing dinner, but you barely noticed. You were focusing on keeping up with Joel. 

Just as you started to feel a little bit confident, a slow song that you didn’t know started to play. Joel slowed the two of you as well, starting to sway in place instead of moving around so much. He pulled you a little closer with his left hand around your waist.

Catching your breath, and taking your focus off of your feet, you asked, “what brought this on? I don’t think I’ve ever come over to find y’all mid-dance-lesson before.”

“Sarah’s got that school dance coming up and she’s a bit nervous.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I tried to tell her I only know how to do this and a few of those line dances they do in the clubs Tommy goes to. Not whatever dancing they’ll be doing — probably closer to your club dancing.” He winked at you, and you held on a little tighter to his shoulder. “But then she reminded me that her cousin’s party is coming up, anyway, and they will definitely be dancing just like this. So, we were practicing.”

“Cousin?” You asked, confused. Tommy didn’t have kids, and you were pretty sure there were no other Miller siblings.

“Ah, technically it’s my cousin’s kid, on my mom’s side. Easier to just say cousin.” He shrugged. You nodded. 

“Well, you did a good job teaching me. Bet that’ll be a fun party.”

You realized at that point that you had slowly swayed in the direction of the trees along the back of the yard. You were under the shade of one of the trees, partially out of view from the house. You'd moved closer together as the dance slowed and you found yourself with your right hand on his neck, fingertips almost touching his hairline. Your eyes darted from his arms, holding you securely, to his shoulders, flexing under his shirt, up to his face. 

You looked up to find Joel was looking right back at you. “See something you like, darlin’?” He smirked. You felt a rush of warmth towards your face, but you weren’t really embarrassed. You felt like your whole body was tingling, like you were heading towards something you’d been hoping for for months. Like you were racing forward and up ahead there was a cliff you might fall off of, but you’d fall together. Like the fall was the point, the destination. Your breath caught in your throat. “Maybe I do, neighbor.” He grinned in response, tugging you just a bit closer. Any closer and you’d feel him pressed against you everywhere. 

“I know I do.”

“What?” You’d lost track of the conversation. His proximity was going to your head. 

“See something I like.” As he responded, he let go of your hand and brought his right hand up to cup your face. You saw him glance from your eyes to your mouth and in response, you pressed closer, winding your right hand into his hair. Joel leaned in, and you barely felt the touch of his lips to yours, when the back door opened and Tommy shouted, “dinner’s ready, love birds! Get in here!”

Joel groaned as he stepped away from you, resting his hands on your shoulders. “I guess we should head inside.” As he said it, he lifted one hand to trace his fingertips along your cheekbone before running his hand lightly over your hair. “Stick around after dinner? I’d like another dance.” You smile as he reaches down to take your hand and lead you toward the house, walking backwards and keeping his eyes trained on yours. 

“Smooth moves, Miller. Save some for later.”

He’s still smiling, but suddenly you feel the intent in his gaze, more focused than even a moment ago. “Oh darlin’, don’t worry. For you, I got plenty more.”

—-

Dinner with the Millers was always fun, and this occasion was no different. Tommy and Sarah teased Joel mercilessly, and he got them right back, though he was always a little softer with Sarah. 

You talked and joked over dinner, noting Joel had made one of your favorites - pepper chicken - and he winked at you when you thanked him for it. After dinner Sarah rushed upstairs to talk to a friend on the phone as Tommy headed out the door (“to do some real dancing, y'all should come out sometime”). You were left with Joel in the kitchen, clearing the table together and starting in on the dishes. 

“You don’t have to help with that, I can get it.” You bumped your hip against his as he slid in next to you at the sink.

“It’s no bother, Joel. Let me help.” He smiled at you, softly, and nodded, picking up the towel to dry the dishes. 

You worked quietly together, sometimes recalling a joke from dinner, but you were mostly just enjoying the quiet moment. As soon as you handed him the last dish he set it aside, still wet, to take your hand and lead you back outside. He switched the music back on, low, as you passed the boombox.

As he stepped into the yard, Joel turned and pulled you back into his arms, into the slow dance stance you had only just left before dinner. But this time he pulled you close from the start, tucking you up against him and smoothing his hand across your lower back. “Well hello there, darlin’. Fancy meeting you here.”

You smiled, and rolled your eyes a little. “Hey, cowboy.” You let your fingertips play with his hair along his neck. You noticed a light shiver in his shoulders as you did. “Joel, are you ticklish?” 

“No, and you better not let on to Sarah that you wondered anything of the sort.” He glared at you playfully as he said it, spinning you a little into a new spot in the yard. You laugh, winded, even though you'd barely moved. 

“Hmm, seems like information that would be worth quite a bit to some people around here.” You brushed your fingers lightly across his hairline again, and he squirmed again in response. 

He hid a smile, pulling you in so he could whisper directly into your left ear. “But darlin’, if you keep my secret, I’ll make it worth your while.” It was your turn to shiver. “Oh? How so?” You’d never heard your own voice so breathless. 

He chuckled, and raised his left hand from your hip to your jaw, tilting your head to the right as he tucked his face into the left side of your neck. He ran his lips lightly from your shoulder to your jaw, sending prickles down your spine as you inhaled sharply. He kissed you, lightly, right at the hinge of your jaw, and then on your cheek, and then his mouth met yours, softly, barely there and then with gentle pressure. He pulled away after only a moment, and you met his eyes in a daze. His gaze was dark, and you felt like you were moving through molasses. Everything was slow, and soft, and heady. You felt like you were floating and Joel’s hands on you – your cheek, your left hand – were the only things keeping you tethered.

Joel murmured your name. “Let me take you out.”

“When?” Your reply fell from your lips so quickly it made him smile, and you smiled back, unashamed. 

“Friday? Sarah’s got a sleepover.” He smoothed his thumb over your cheekbone. “We can go dancing, show off these moves.” You laughed. 

“Joel, I’ve barely got 1, maybe 2 moves. You sure we don’t need another dance lesson before we take this show on the road?”

He huffed a laugh, and spun you a little. “Just follow along with me, darlin’, I won’t let you stumble.”

You bit your lip, and nodded. “Friday.”

“Friday,” he agreed, pulling you in again. As his lips met yours again, you wondered how you were going to wait 5 days for this. Joel pulled himself away with a small groan, resting his forehead against yours. “We should stop before we get too carried away, with Sarah home.” You nodded. 

You danced a bit more, finishing out the last couple of tracks on the CD. Joel kept his forehead against yours at first, and then tucked your head into his chest, resting his cheek on top of your head, slowly swaying as the last song trailed off into quiet.

You didn’t want to let go quite yet, and it seemed Joel didn’t either, as neither of you moved. You could feel your happiness at finally taking the leap together glowing in your chest – from dancing around each other to an actual dance, the months of flirting had finally gotten you somewhere. But you couldn’t help but wonder.

“Joel? Why now?” You asked it softly, face still tucked into his chest. He hummed lowly in response before pulling back to meet your eyes. He regarded you silently for a moment before seeming to come to a decision. 

“I think we both felt it, from that first day. You were — you are — the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I knew I wanted you, but I wanted something real. I haven’t dated anyone in a long, long time. I wanted to take it slow, and get to know you first. But darlin’, I realized the other day, when you were here with Sarah, that maybe there’s a line between taking it slow and just being afraid, and I was flirting with it. And I’d rather be flirting with you.” He grinned as you rolled your eyes a little bit at his joke. “I’ve been afraid, for a long time, of letting someone in when it’s not just me I have to worry about. But Sarah loves you.”

“And I love her, Joel. That girl is special.” He smiled, and nodded. “I know you do. And she’s been teasing me about asking you out for months.”

“Oh yeah? Well you should know better than to ignore her advice, Joel.” 

He sighed, long-suffering, and nodded. “I know it.”

Joel started to head towards the house, right hand reaching for your left. You felt a little shaky, like you really had been floating for the last half hour. As you approached the front door, he squeezed your hand and pulled you into another hug. “I’ll see you Friday, darlin’.”

“You sure will, cowboy.” He smiled and pulled you in for another kiss. 

“Now get, before we get any bad ideas.” You laughed, and headed out the door he opened for you. “Night, darlin’.”

“See you Friday, Joel.”

—

a/n: follow for the whole fic! coming soon :)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal discord server event #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #this is my first fic in years please be nice

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

My Heart Is Yours

Joel Miller x reader (previous) Daryl Dixon x reader

The Walking Dead x The Last Of Us

Daryl Dixon x fem reader

Crossover fic

18+ only please

Warnings - angst, heartbreak, zombies, smut, fluff, Joel being a asshole, Joel being shit at feelings, loss, death, swear words, Daryl is a sweetheart, reader described as female, talk of infidelity, Daryl is a virgin, reader grows to be a badass, my terrible writing, Carl doesn’t die in this, as I can’t do that to him, he deserved better!

Not cannon at all!

This is long!

Words- 5.2K (sorry)

Let me know if I’ve missed anything.

As you walked alone through the forest, somewhere in Georgia or there abouts, you contemplated the last 6 months of your life. How you ran from the man who you thought loved you, how you snuck out while he was sleeping after he’d crushed your heart. Kicking dusty dirt under your shoes you contemplated it all, you remember how calm he'd been, when ripping it from your chest while you broke into shattered glass.

It wasn’t always like this you knew that, not so long ago you had Joel’s full attention. He was stern and grumpy, but he was also sweet and tender with you while you were alone. When the outbreak happened your dad was bit by an attacking walker, he had barricaded himself away from you and begged you to leave him, to go next door and find Joel, his best friend of 15+ years now. Joel also happened to be the man you’d been having a secret “relationship” with if you could call it that, it’s been going on about 4 months now. And even though it had no label, recently things had shifted, it had started to feel like a real relationship, not just hooking up.

When you had run over to Joel’s he and Sarah who was a five years younger than you, but you’d become like a big sister to her over the years, were frantically packing their bags to leave. When he caught hold of your distraught face he knew what had happened and he’d said “Come on sweetheart you can come with us”. He took you with them, protected you and even after Sarah’s death, he kept you close. He’d gotten you to safety a place called the QZ, you’d been given a two bedroom apartment together, they’d presumed you were Joel’s daughter and not his lover. By now Joel was a broken man, he’d barely speak and intimate moments were rough and lacking any emotion. Still you gathered he was grieving, this was temporary and your Joel would reappear at some point, if you were just patient with him.

But it never happened, as the months dragged on things between you got more and more distant, he began sleeping in the other room, coming home drunk he would crash on the spare bed or the sofa. One day you came home ready to confront him, tell him to not push those who still loved and cared for him away, to ask him to make a go of this again. But what you came home too was him animatedly talking to another woman, who appeared to be around his age. He was smiling, laughing, telling a story about something you couldn’t decipher, as all your attention was spent on watching his movements, watching the way his eyes creased with laughter for the first time in a long time. He barely acknowledged your entrance just nodded in your direction, as you quietly padded your way to the bedroom.

You later found out her name was Tess, and they had developed some sort of apparent friendship during their time working with one another. As the coming weeks went by, you noticed lingering looks between the two, subtle touches and knowing looks shared. Until one night he came home in the early hours smelling of her perfume. You’d sat there all night waiting for him, hours ticking by ready to demand to know what was going on.

When he did come home he jumped, startled seeing you sat at the dining table, waiting for him with an expectant look on your face. “Where were you all night?, and don’t lie to me because you stink of her perfume” you sneered.

He sighed “Yeah I was with Tess”.

“Did you fuck her?” You asked, trying to keep your voice stern and unwavering.

He looked at you almost remorseful, his eyes filled with a sadness “Yeah” he affirmed.

A gasp left your chest without meaning to let it slip, tears filled your eyes as you stood nodding. “Ok then” you stated, starting to leave the room. Joel grabbed your wrist trying to get you to look at him, “Darlin’” he tried to explain “Don’t!” You snapped back “Just don’t, what ….. what did I do to deserve this huh? Was I not good enough?” You questioned, tears now freely flowing. His face contorted, pain evident on his features. “No don’t say that sweetheart this is all on me, and I’m so sorry but she gets me, we are the same in age and our pasts are similar, your too young, you had your whole life ahead of you, and I was wrong to get involved with you, it was a mistake” he explained. “Right” your jeered “ A mistake” your heart was broken, you had nothing left now, you’d lost your dad, your best friend and now Joel. “Thats your best excuse huh?” You exclaim “Look I saved your ass, coz let’s face it your next to useless out there, you’d be walker food if you didn’t have me, but you are my responsibility and for your dad I will continue to look out for you, but that’s all I can give you now” he answered.

With that you stormed into your room slamming the door, before falling onto the ground as sobs wrecked through you, while Joel was left stood static in the kitchen. After your tears had all but dried on your face and you had gained some self control, you stood up and grabbed your bag aggressively shoving everything you owned into it.

Once packed you waited until you heard Joel’s soft snores, then you left quietly out of the front door, out of the apartment block and snuck through the walls of the QZ.

_______________________________________

That was two months ago now, you’d learned pretty quick how to protect yourself. You had too, your life now depended on survival skills, there was no one left to watch your back. You’d killed countless walkers by this point, Joel had taught you before to always go for the head. Your walker killing skills had most definitely improved, and when a heard came you quickly climbed a tree, where you’d wait patiently for it to pass.

It was almost dark now, a soft moon glow was casting through the trees. What did they call it ‘blue hour’ the twilight period where the sun had sunk enough that it casted a blue haze. You found a large tree with a vast amount of thick branches higher up, this would be your bunk for the night. You clambered up as high as you could, finding a suitable perch and wrapping a rope around you and the trunk, securing yourself safely in place while you slept. You pulled your tarp out of your bag, using it like a blanket covering yourself from the elements, once you were happy with your position you closed your eyes, letting sleep overcome you.

You awoke to bickering voices, getting louder the closer they came. Looking up you realised the sun was relatively high in the sky, indicating it was at least late morning. Untying yourself slowly and as quietly as you could possibly muster, you gathered up your belongings and peered over the edge of the branch. You saw two men approaching, one with short curly hair, scruffy beard and a sherif hat perched on his head. The other had shaggy brown hair that just passed his ears, face adorned with stubble. He was shorter than the man with the sherif hat, he had a crossbow attached to his back, and he appeared to be peeved by the sherif dude.

“All I’m saying is if you gave them a chance they may surprise you, just because they were part of the governor’s group, doesn’t make them bad people, just scared people” the one with the hat reasoned.

“That dun mean I gotta be their friend now does it” the archer replied.

Just as the sherif went to reply a small branch you were holding snapped, loud crack echoing through the tree’s. “Shit!” You gasp quickly grabbing another before you fell to a splattered end. Both men pull out their weapons at an impressive speed pointing them in your general direction, “Come out now! Slowly” the sherif guy shouted. “Umm that may be hard” you meekly replied. “Why!” He demanded. “I’m kinda up the tree” they both looked up, the archer spotting your form and pointing to show the sherif. “I’m only armed with a knife and I’m alone, if you promise not to fire at me I’ll come down” you reply.

“Ok” the sherif replied pointing in gun downwards towards the ground, the archer though kept his crossbow aimed at you, clearly not trusting you. Taking a deep breath you started a slow, calculated decent down the tree, before dropping to the ground and raising your hands in surrender. You let out a squeak as they were on you in an instant, patting you down searching for any weapons, finding the one machete knife you claimed you had, and a pocket knife in your bag.

“Where yer from? And why were yer up the tree?” The archer challenged. They both glared at you expectantly “Uh I’m from Texas, I’ve been travelling by myself for a couple of months now. And I sleep up trees for my own safety, I don’t fancy being mauled to death in my sleep by walkers” you sassed back. The sherif smirked at your answer, “what’s your name?” He asked. “Y/N my names y/n” you reply.

He exchanged a look with the archer who nodded back. “If you want somewhere safe to stay, we have a small community close by. But you have to answer three questions truthfully” he communicated.

You thought for a second, what alternatives did you have really? You were tired, lonely and will be close to starvation if you carry on like this much longer. “Ok, but promise your not serial killers or something” you stammered. He huffed out a laugh, “No not serial killers, but we will however stop at nothing to protect our family” he affirmed. “Ok” you noted.

“Ok then, how many walkers have you killed?” He asks

“Too many to count, over 40 at least” you ponder.

“Ok, how many people have you killed?” He continues.

You look down in shame before answering “One”

“Why?” He responded.

“He tried to …” you trail off tears filling your eyes. “He tried to force himself on me, I fought him, shoved him hard and he fell back, hit his head, I didn’t mean too! I just panicked” you stammer out, getting visibly more upset. To your surprise the archer came over and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Hey it’s ok, no one shud have ta go thru that” he voiced. “I’m Daryl, n’ this is Rick” he introduced them both. You nodded, “Did I pass?” You ask. “Yeah” Rick replied “Follow us”.

__________________🏹___________________

Six months pass in a blur, you followed them back to a prison with huge double iron walls. You settled in quickly making fast friends with Daryl, he opened up to you, told you about his past and his abusive father, about his brother Merle who he’d lost not long before finding you. You’d told him about your Dad and about Joel, eventually in great detail not leaving out any of the things he did to send you running off on your own.

He’d been so angry when you did, it was the dead of night, the prison silent. He pulled you in close on the bottom bunk of your cell, whispering into your hair how you deserved so much better, how special you were, how much of an idiot Joel was for ever letting you go. He placed a kiss to your forehead, and it was in that moment you realised how deeply you’d fallen for the archer. He was your saviour, your heart and the one thing that tethered you to the world now.

One rainy night a storm was raging outside. Everyone was holed up in the safety of the prison, trying to get some sleep as thunder rumbled through the halls. You were snuggled into Daryl’s side, his hand tracing patterns over your back.

“Your my reason now Daryl, my reason for living in this fucked up world. You make everyday worth it” you’d confessed. He’d turned to you in disbelief, where did this come from and how could someone so wonderful, so brave and amazing as you, just profess that to him. Astonished he searched your face, looking for any chance of a lie but he found nothing but sincerity.

So he swallowed any doubts he had, shuffling onto his right side, his eyes still bearing into yours, he traced your jaw so carefully with his thumb, before leaning in and placing his lips on yours. The kiss was so gentle, as if he was worried he would break you. Snaking your arms around him as you pulled him in closer, wanting to feel the weight of his body on yours and deepening the kiss. The hand cupping your jaw finds your hand, entwining your fingers and moving it down beside your head. Daryl moved his body to lay over yours resting on one forearm, his other hand still closed around yours, you open your mouth, tongue swiping over his lips asking for access, which he grants hesitantly caressing his tongue with yours. You let out a small moan starting to roll your hips against his, your spare hand sliding under the front of his shirt and tracing his chest. Daryl heaves in a breath, pulling away from your lips to rest his forehead against yours.

“I’ve not dun this before” he breathes, now hiding his face in your neck, embarrassment creeping in. “What do you mean?” You ask confused. He lifts his head again “I mean this” he gestures between the two of you, “I’ve neva had a relationship, neva been intimate like this, I mean Merle tried when we wer younger, paid sum girl to sleep with me, sum druggies sister, she was older than me, I felt uncomfortable when she tried to touch me nd I dunno I panicked n left. That’s when Merle started callin me Darylina, callin me a pussy, I neva tried again” Daryl confessed, waiting for your reaction, rejection maybe.

But it never came, you just hugged him tighter again “Oh Daryl” you whispered, kissing the side of his head. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can take this a slow as you want.” You continued, stroking the hair from his face. He looked you in the eyes again, fingertips stroking your cheeks. “I love yer” he drawled, eyes filled with emotion “I love you too”.

He kissed you again more passionately than the last, more confident with his actions now, Hands roughly cupping your face as he pulled you into him. Pulling away from your lips he starts peppering open mouthed kisses down your throat, then tugging up the bottom of your shirt. Getting the hint you pull the worn material over your head leaving your top half bare. He pauses then staring at you in awe, before gently stroking a thumb down the side of your breast, then leaning in taking your nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over the bud and gently sucking. Leaning back again he mumbles “These are amazin’” massaging both in his palms. You let out a small giggle between moans “Well they are all yours” pausing then reaffirming “I’m all yours Daryl”.

“I’m all yers too sunshine” he replies, muffled by his lips mouthing into your neck. Getting up he takes a step back, pulling his own shirt off over his head and pushing his pants down, causing you to eagerly do the same. As soon as your both bare he crawls back over you, catching your lips with his own once more.

You take his hand and gently guide it down your stomach to your wet folds, nudging him to touch you, and letting out a strangled moan when he obliges gathering your slick and rubbing your clit. It’s clumsy and miscalculated but he’s gentle and patient, and eventually he gets it right causing you to let out pleasured gasps. You stroke down his stomach grasping his hard member, sporadically moving your hand up and down watching his reactions carefully, ready to stop if he looks at all uncomfortable. But when he throws this head back and lets out a low moan, you know your good to carry on.

Wrapping your other arm around his back you pull him into you, guiding his cock to your soaked pussy “I need you” you whimper, raising you hips to rub yourself against him. “Shit” he curses “I dun know how long I’ll last” he admits, cheeks turning pink. “That’s ok baby we have the rest of our lives to practice, and I don’t think I’ll last long either” you reply. Nodding he takes himself in his hand before nudging his tip at your entrance, he places his forehead against yours and pushes in, bottoming out in one slow thrust.

“Fuck you feel soo good” he groans before pulling part way out and slamming forward again, causing you to scream out. Daryl hastily puts his hand over your mouth “Geez woman, be quiet you’ll wake everyone up”. You mumble an apology against his hand as he starts rolling his hips into you again, letting out small gasps in your ear, the hand he’s supporting his weight on lovingly cards through your hair and he nuzzles his nose against your cheek.

His pace picks up and you start feeling that familiar tingling in your core, you move your hand down and frantically start rubbing your clit, after a few more hard thrusts he has you cumming hard, core fluttering around his cock, your head thrown back in pleasure. His pace becomes sloppy, his soft pants turning into whines before he quickly pulls out, stilling with a groan as he paints your stomach with his spend.

He kisses you slow and deep, fingers carefully caressing your side. You smile up at him lovingly as he collapses on the small bed beside you, your both still panting trying to catch your breath. Daryl turns to you “That wer amazin, your amazin” he breathed, you hum “It really was, I love you” “I love you too sunshine”.

__________________🏹___________________

3 years later

………………….

You’d been through so much, the family you’d all created had been through so much. In the space of less than a year, the prison fell thanks to the governor and you were all split up, you made new family members on the road.

Then more than half of you arrived at terminus which lead to an impromptu rescue mission, together with carol you both saved them all, throwing yourself at Daryl after thinking you’d lost him forever. You later found Alexandria as well as hilltop, two communities who welcomed you in, and you all created a life again finally feeling safe.

Until you made an enemy of a man called Negan, he killed Glen and Abraham, then took Daryl as a prisoner. Those weeks were the most miserable of your life, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat and your mind haunted you of all the what if’s. When he arrived back at hilltop pulling you into his arms he asked you the most important and easiest question of your life”

“Marry me” he pleaded, holding your face in his hands, blue eyes filled with tears. His heart at peace for the first time in weeks.

“Yes, yes I’ll marry you Daryl”

He pulled you against his chest, burying his nose into your hair, you were together again and that’s all that mattered, even if war was on the way.

Negan was stopped, his community fell and he was held as a prisoner in Alexandria’s prison, where he still sat to this day. Apparently showing everyone that change can happen, that the killing of humans needed to end. You’d lost people though, friends, family, it was an awful fight and one you hope never to encounter again.

Another peace offering was this notion, one to connect every community together with a bridge. It would make travelling quicker and safer, the building of this bridge was currently underway you, Daryl and Rick were overseeing the project.

Your husband was currently hammering down planks, while you were going over plans with Rick.

“We need more workers Rick, they are working themselves silly, is there any give on the saviours yet?” You asked.

“No carols been working on them, tryin to convince them, but it ain’t working’ yet” Rick sighs.

“But your right, this can’t continue” he vented, before walking off to check on the progress.

Rolling up the plans you theorise that this bridge will never get completed, no one is getting on and the saviours that are here are causing nothing but issues. While you were pondering you hear desperate footsteps charging towards you. One of the younger citizens of hilltop, she looks panicked “There’s a small heard coming this way, I saw them from the watch tower! Aaron’s got a team out there cutting down trees, the coms are down and I don’t know what to do!” She pleaded.

“Ok don’t worry I’ve got it, I’ll take a group out to deal with it” you reply, giving her a comforting pat on the shoulder.

You throw on your baseball cap to shield you from that blazing sun and jog over to find Michone, “There’s a small heard on the way over and Aaron’s teams out there” you relay. “Ok let’s get going then” she urged. Gathering a group of able fighters you make your way in the direction of the heard.

After joining you guys at the prison Michone had taught you to how to use a Samurai sword, an art you’d skilfully mastered now over years of practice. You’d stollen another one from terminus’s artillery stock years back, and you haven't parted with it since.

Tying a bandana over the bottom half of your face, you breathe in a slow calculated breath calming yourself before running towards the heard, slicing the heads off the walkers with exact precision along side Michone. While the others shoot arrows and stab machete's into their skulls, working together you clear the walkers quickly. Unknowingly being observed by a small group of people from the tree line, once the walkers were all cleared the group emerge making their presence known.

Snapping up your eyes meet those of a young girl, about Carl’s age she looks at you with wide eyes, glancing at your sword. You lower your weapon, and Michone speaks first “Who are you?” She demands “Umm I’m Ellie” the girl replies shakily, a broad man is by her side in a flash, pulling her behind him protectively. It’s then you look up meeting deep brown eyes you recognise instantly “Joel??” You stammer.

“Do I know ya?” Joel asks his tone warning.

You let out comical laugh, of course he doesn’t recognise you, he’d moved on before you even left. Although your hair was shorter now, cut into a long bob to ensure walkers and enemies couldn’t grab it. Your body was more muscular, toned by the years of fighting. And you were less feeble, your demeanour had changed.

This will be fun you thought before removing your baseball cap and your bandana, Joel lets out a low gasp “y/n?”

“Yeah it’s me, how many of you are there? And do you have a community?” You ask voice unwavering.

“Woah, hold on there darlin’ the last time I saw you was nearly four years ago, and you snuck out of our home while I was asleep! And I never heard from you again! I thought you were dead!” Joel exclaimed

“Well sorry to disappoint, now answer the damn question!” You demand.

Joel gawps at you astounded, Michone smirks proudly, she knows who Joel is, she’s your best friend after all. You’d told her everything it’s why you asked her to teach you, so you’d never be weak and defenceless again. “There’s just us four, me and Ellie, and we met Chris and Ellen here on the road a few weeks back” he answers.

The girl named Ellie is watching the exchange, eyes narrowed trying to get a hold on what was going on.

“Right follow us, we have a safe camp close by. There’s food and water, your welcome to both and a safe bed for the night” Michone cuts in, obviously realising the tension rising between Joel and yourself. You nod along with her before hastily walking back towards camp. Joel staggers trying to catch you up, “y/n! Hey stop please” Joel pleads, you blatantly ignore him, still stomping your way to camp like a petulant child. As he goes to grab your wrist a lone walker stumbles out of the trees, taking Joel by surprise. But you instinctively jump in front of him slicing the head in half, allowing it to fall to the floor with a thud. Then once again picking up your pace, one destination in your mind, Daryl.

“Jesus y/n” Joel mumbles, before trying to catch up to you again, “Look can we talk please?” He asks desperation laced in his voice. “You can talk as we walk” you snapped. All you wanted right now was to be in Daryl’s comforting arms, all that tension would wash away.

You'd be able to think straight again.

“Ok I’ll take what I can get, what I did to you wasn’t right I know that, but running off like that? That was beyond reckless, I couldn’t sleep for weeks! I was worried sick, you have no idea how immobilising that was!”

“It’s called guilt Joel” you deadpan

“I’m alive and well, I have a family now one we all created together in Georgia. People who love me and protect me, as I do back for them. So you can leave that guilt behind now because I’m fine” you summarised.

“I can see that…. You’ve changed” Joel sighed.

“Yeah well I needed too, it was you who said and I quote “you are useless out there, without you I’d be walker food” sound about right?” You ask.

“I didn’t mean that sweetheart I was upset in that moment, I always knew you could handle yourself” Joel implored.

This stops you in your tracks, you turn to him anger cursing through you “You were upset?” You laugh out voice like venom.

“You cheated on me Joel, I was just trying to be there for you, I know you’d gone through a lot but I was there for you, and you tossed me aside like I was nothing!” you cried.

“I didn’t” he whispers

“Didn’t what?” You ask

“Cheat on you, I didn’t, I asked Tess to spray me with her perfume she was only a friend, I knew you deserved better, I was dragging you down, I knew you needed to move on, find someone your age, less broken. I wanted you to still have a life! I knew you wouldn’t move on unless you thought somethin’ had happened between me and Tess, I was wrong I regret that night so much darlin’” he explains, tears rolling down his cheeks. He hastily wipes them away with the back of his hand, as Ellie approaches.

“Everything ok Joel?” She asks carefully

“Yeah” Joel replies meekly.

He wraps an arm around her and ruffles her hair, you felt happy for him to get that chance to be a dad again, he was a good dad.

By the time you reached camp your head was in complete turmoil, you were still angry and hurt but now it was for different reasons. How dare he take your choices away from you like that, he didn’t get to decide that you deserved better. But you did find better didn’t you, a man who loves you wholeheartedly. A man who had never once hurt you, who never made you feel like a burden or unwanted.

Your eyes searched for your archer in the sea of people, when they landed on him he was ruffing with the kids, laughing as they chased him. You stood for a minute admiring him as he scooped up Judith, swinging her around before handing her to Carl. He looked up his ocean blue eyes meeting yours, then he’s jogging towards you smile gracing his features. “Heard ther wer sum walkers? You ok?” He asks checking you over “Yeah I’m good, we took care of it” he nods, hands cupping your face before placing a tender kiss to your forehead. “We found some stragglers, brought them back for food and rest, Michone will decide after that if they can stay” you explain “Joel is with them” you confess, he stills then “As in the Joel?” He asks “Yup, the Joel, it’s ok I think. I’ve said my bit, he won’t be here long” you reply.

Daryl looks over towards the newcomers his eyes meet Joel’s, who’s already watching Daryl’s and yours exchange. “Guess I’d betta go introduce myself then huh” Daryl all but growled. You smirk to yourself, you’d never seen this jealous protective side of him before, you gesture for him to go for it, and watch as he walks over.

Reaching his hand out to shake Joel’s, Daryl introduces himself “Hey I’m Daryl y/n’s husband, I’ve herd a lot bout ya” Joel hesitantly shakes his hand “Joel” he replies stoic as ever. “Well I jus wanted to thank ya” Daryl continues small smile on his lips. “Thank me?” Joel asks visibly confused, “Yeah for messin up so badly, for givin me the chance to meet her, and show her how she shud be loved, she’s the best thing I’ve eva had in mah life, and I am thankful every day for her, so yeah thank you” with that Daryl walks off back towards you, leaving Joel watching after you once again, realising how much he had lost when he gave you up.

Pulling you into his side as Daryl walks you to where Rick and the rest of your family is organising the next steps of the project, Michone gives you a side hug and Rick looks up “You ok?” He asks big brother protectiveness coming out, “Yeah I’m good, I have my family” you smile, Carol chimes in with “You sure?” Nodding you think to yourself how lucky you are to have these guys, your hand finds Daryl’s, and your arm loops around Michone. “Yeah I’m really good”

You knew these new emotions would be hard to navigate, but you had those who loved you right here.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #daryl dixon #the last of us #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #tlou

[applcrumbl]

Stronger.

Pairings: Rockstar! Eddie Munson x Reader Warnings: Infidelity, Talk of sex, Strong language, Alcohol Mention Author’s Note: Eddie would never cheat on you, but for the sake of an angsty fic - lets pretend.

summary: Rockstar! Eddie doesn’t realise what he has, until she’s gone. 

“Where you going?” Eddie asked, leaning on the doorframe to your shared bedroom.

He’d caught you off guard as you whipped around, ready to fight whoever had broken into your house. However, it was no intruder. It was your boyfriend of 5 years, Eddie, who had just arrived home 2 days before expected from his state-wide tour, as a treat for you. 

His early homecoming was a great surprise to you, but not as much of a surprise as he’d gotten. Arriving home to a moving van parked outside, and your suitcase at the door.

“You’re home early.” You stated, forcing a warm smile on your face

“Yeah. I wanted to surprise you. Was gonna take you to our last show” He stood up straight. “Don’t change the topic. Where are you going?”

“I’m going home for a while. I’m not sure how long for.”

His brows furrowed, “but you are home?”

“I mean home, home. To see my family, friends from Hawkins. It’s been such a long time.”

“Don’t lie to me either Y/N.”

It was abrupt. A strong statement said through shaky words. Water began welling in his eyes, he’d never cried in front of you and he wasn’t about to start now. If the boys from his band, were to see him now. His reputation would be ruined. So he fought back tears. 

Your emotions mimicked his, taking a seat on the mattress in the half-empty room.

“I’m leaving.”

At those words the brunet broke down completely, all worries of what his peers would thing gone. Falling to his knees on the carpet, A choked sob fought it’s way out of his throat. You wanted nothing more than to run over and scoop the guitarist up in your arms. But, alas, that would have been inappropriate. And you knew better.

There was nothing either of you could say to fix it, after all, it had happened before. Big Lead guitarist caught kissing groupie after groupie. You chalked it up as ‘part of the job.’

In the past, you’d never questioned Eddie’s loyalty to you. It had taken him a year to even convince you to go on a date with him, and then a further 6 months to go on another. Girls were falling at his feet, but you were not. You were everything he wanted. Everything he needed, even if he never saw it.

It wasn’t until Corroded Coffin’s first headline tour that you started to doubt. The second night of their 4th stop. The first time he’d been untruthful. When he arrived home a short few days after, you knew something was off. Eddie was always into certain forms of PDA, an arm around the shoulder, or a make-out session on the sofa of the recording studio was not completely out of character for him. But ultimately, his clingy side was left in private. However, When the band returned home, he had not left your side once.

You questioned him later that night, and he confessed. You knew it was eating him up inside, and you trusted what he’d told you:

“It was a drunken mistake Y/N. Baby, please you’ve got to believe me. I’d never hurt you like that.”

and so it was forgotten. Brushed off without a second thought. That was your biggest mistake.

You should’ve put up more of a fight, you should’ve left the first time, for when it happened again it was almost as if Eddie was pushing his luck. His penultimate show before he headed home, and back into your arms. How couldn’t he have waited? You asked yourself. 

A short, four show tour, and you had been invited along. A surprise for Eddie, planned by the rest of his band. However, when you arrived, there he was, groupie after groupie on his arm. You returned home the next day.

Upon his arrival, Eddie returned with flowers and a love song he’d written. Once again, the infidelity forgot.

Now, he’d returned after finishing his tour to find you packing your things. You’d grown stronger, ready to leave him once and for all. It was Dustin who had told you this time, which hurt you the most. Eddie’s own best friend and he was telling you to leave him.

It was a girl in Milwaukee, the very first night of the tour, and he’d slept with her, not even 48 hours after he’d slept with you. That was the last straw.

Out of all the times that he’d cheated on you, that you knew of, he never cried when you found out. He never seemed to care enough to actually cry. Yet, here he was, sobbing into your stomach as he clutched the back of your thighs.

You faltered for a second, judgement clouded by the mop of brown curls kneeling at your feet. Soft sobs of ‘baby please’ and ‘i’m sorry’ stringing from his mouth like prayer. You almost believed him.

No.

Holding your head high, you walked out of his grasp and grabbed your coat. The 12 steps down to the front hall felt long, as Eddie was behind you the whole way, begging for you to stay. It felt sadistically right, he should be the one crying over losing you, not the other way around.

“Goodbye, Eds. Have a good show”

“Y/N please.”

And the door clicked shut.

#writing #eddie munson #angst

[artiststarme]

What If Steve Were To Leave Hawkins? Part 20 (Epilogue)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

The series is finished! Thank you for everyone that read it and stuck with me through the 20 parts, I know it was a lot and ended up being much longer than I anticipated for my first fic. Thank you very much for your kind comments. I plan on posting my next fic sometime in the next couple of days, if you'd like to be tagged in that, let me know!

~*~*~*~

The trio were thriving in Chicago. It had been roughly a month since they had all three moved into a two-bedroom apartment a few blocks from the coffee shop and a little longer than that since they’d all moved away from Hawkins. All three of them were having the time of their lives. 

Steve had been picking up extra hours at the coffee shop with Betty to try and make some extra money. He loved working as a barista and being challenged to make the most asinine of orders. What he loved even more is when he looked up on boring weekday shifts to see Eddie and Robin pouring over their notebooks. Steve could watch them scribble song lyrics and math equations, respectively, all day. And whenever Eddie looked up to meet his eyes with a beaming smile on his face? That was nice too. 

Eddie had accepted a full time job at the record store that they had passed their first day in the city. He could finally work a job he enjoyed without threat of violence from high school jocks or cruel words from middle-aged churchgoers. He’d also joined the band that the cashier, now known as Justin, had invited him to. They sounded way better than the high school Corroded Coffin did and with Eddie’s guitar skills? The new and improved Corroded Coffin was getting more than five drunks whenever they played in the bars. Steve was there at every ‘concert’ and cheered the band, especially Eddie, on after every song. What Eddie especially looked forward to on those nights though wasn’t the full crowd. Oh no, he looked forward to the possessive kisses that Steve would give him once they were away from prying eyes. 

Robin loved Chicago. She had started taking Gen Ed classes at UIC for the fall semester and working at an LGBT+ bookstore on the weekends. While she was currently single after breaking up with Vickie, she was happy. They parted on good terms and they both agreed that long distance at their age wasn’t the answer. Robin spent most of her free time working at the bookstore or making friends at school. However, she also devoted a healthy amount of time to third wheeling Steve and Eddie. It was easy really. Especially since everyone turned into a third wheel around them, whether they knew it or not. Anytime anyone sees them, they’re hanging off of one another, giving each other heart eyes, and being disgustingly lovey-dovey in general. 

~*~*~*~

By far the best part of moving in together in the city for Steve was waking up to Eddie in the morning on their days off. They would lie in bed for hours just talking or kissing or talking and kissing. Today, they were talking about their future in Chicago. 

Steve was watching the sunlight from the windows hit Eddie’s contours and accentuate his messy bedhead. “Are you happy here?”

Eddie closed his eyes and yawned before giving Steve the biggest smile his tired face could muster. “Stevie, baby, I’ve never been happier. I didn’t even know I could be this happy!”

His eyes danced across Steve’s face before his smile widened upon spotting the hickey he had left the night before. “What about you?”

Steve hummed as he thought about his answer. He was still having trouble putting his happiness into words. He felt like he was living within a dream, one that he never wanted to wake up from. He looked back to Eddie, his glorious boyfriend. The man that had shown him what it was like to be cared for by someone and the one who had picked up the broken pieces everyone else had left behind. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. And I wouldn’t be if it weren’t for you. You make me really fucking happy, Eds. Even if you did eat the last of my Rocky Road cereal last night.”

Eddie’s smile turned into an overexaggerated pout as he fell backwards from his place hovering over Steve’s face onto the pillow. “I said I was sorry! I’ll pick up some more on my way home from work tomorrow. I can’t believe you ended your love confession with that, Jesus fucking Christ.”

Steve laughed and dragged Eddie back over to him, letting his frizzy curls curtain both of them. “I really love you Eddie.”

Eddie pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose and whispered, “I really love you too Steve.”

They kissed each other for a couple of minutes before Steve pulled away and nervously licked his bottom lip before speaking, “hey Eds, I’ve been thinking about something.”

Eddie gently shook his head, “I’m flattered, Stevie, but gay marriage isn’t legal yet so-”

“What?”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, “oh, was that not what you were… oh. My bad, carry on.”

Steve shook his head, he’d poke that bear later. He cleared his throat before continuing, “I’ve been thinking… maybe I could go back to school? I know Robin is really enjoying it and if I just went on a part-time basis then I could still afford it. And I know I want to get a degree eventually so maybe I could take some classes and decide what I want. What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea! We’ll figure out the money later. If you think going to school and getting your degree will make you happy, I say go for it,” Eddie said, rubbing his hand down Steve’s arm. 

Steve nodded, “I think it would. My parents always pushed me to go into business but I think if I did something I really liked, I would have a really good time.”

“What do you want to do, then? Not thinking about anything else, what would make you happy?” Eddie asked. 

Steve bit his lip. He had an idea but he’d never shared it with anyone else. He knew though that if there was one person who wouldn’t make fun of his interests, it was Eddie. “I want to be an author. If I could, I’d write stories that kids could look up to and be inspired by.”

Eddie smiled and grabbed the back of Steve’s head, dragging him into the most gentle of kisses. “I think that’s a great idea, Stevie. Neither one of us will have some normal, nine to five job. When I’m a famous rockstar and you’re a big, hotshot author on the New York Times Best Sellers list, we can tour together and see the world.”

Steve nodded, that was quite the dream. But it was missing something, one small aspect that wasn’t coming to mind. One thing would make their dream even more perfect. Eddie also seemed to notice and after a thoughtful hum added, “with Robin.” 

Steve’s smile stretched and with a small laugh he agreed, “oh yeah, with Robin. That’s the dream, baby.”

And with that, they kissed.

Updated Taglist: @nickavalens @conversesweetheart @themostunoriginalpersonever @swimmingbirdrunningrock @eddiethegreatteddybear @harrumphingtons @call-me-big-eyes @moonshadows-13 @glittergluekintsugi @cpidcupk @doubleb11 @mentalcyborg @amoris-no-smut-allowed @purple-lemonade @labels-are-for-the-weak @thebrazilianatheist @rajumat @livelaughlexa @5ammi90 @colorful565 @marvelousforlife @chaoticcoffeequeen @gregre369 @suddenlyinlove @thegreatmistake @stillfullofshit @nburkhardt @batxsignalsx @newunknowns @thosemessyvibes @tailsfromthecrypt @luciana-rowan @bird-with-pencils @adaed5 @lolawon @flustratedcas @iwillfindmyneverland @messrs-weasley @skoomy-doompy

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#would you guys like me to post the snippets of this story that didn't make the Final Cut? #this had so many parts but feels like it went by really quick lol #we love a happy ending #thanks for reading my first fic! I hope you guys liked it #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steddie #fanfic #stranger things #feel free to ask me questions or send messages!

[fayes-fics]

Transitions

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Modern AU, friends to lovers, it’s very distracting when a Bridgerton becomes a triathlete…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, dirty talk, exhibitionism, masturbation, oral sex (m to f), smidge of intercrural sex, vaginal sex. Lots of Benedict skin in a tiny towel, yes that needs a warning label.

Word Count: 6.3k (oops)

Authors note: This is a birthday request fill for @chaoticcalzoneranchsports. Request in essence is a Modern AU Benedict entering a triathlon and becoming a total menace to reader’s hormones lol. I hope you enjoy this wonderful human, sorry it’s a little late <3. FYI, this might be the most teasing modern Ben ever invented and all responsibility for this fall squarely on them not me hahah. This could be the first in a TRI-logy of triathlon Ben fics. Oh and there is a recurring theme of 3s (and multiples of) in this fic, TRIathlon etc., cos I think I’m so clever. (I’m not.). Thanks as always to my beta @makaylan :)

“A triathlon?” Your laugh is interrupted by a hiccup, “are you serious?”

“Yes,” he throws his hands up to emphasise his point and knocks over his beer, “…whoops.” The delayed, muted reaction to the spill all over his jeans tells you everything about how inebriated he also is.

“Gonna need better coordination than that, especially on the bike part,” you quip, patting his shoulder, part in sympathy, part to steady yourself before wandering to get a towel from the barman. Luckily this is your local; they’ll take pity on you and your drunken friend.

-30 minutes later-

“Ssss fa charityyy,” he slurs as you wander down the street half an hour later.

“What is?” You’re currently staring at a weird-looking patch on your coat. What is that? Beer? Dammit Ben

“Triathlon,” he says emphatically, looking at you, disbelieving that you aren’t following his apparent internal monologue.

“Lovely,” you answer, distracted.

“Be more supportive,” he whines and grabs your shoulders shaking you gently, “I’ve only got six months to get into shape,” he says, miming pumping some iron.

“Fine. I’ll sponsor you, hmm, three hundred million pounds,” you reply, kicking a stray kebab shop chip into the gutter.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he challenges, “better empty all those offshore accounts.”

“Naaah, I keep that kind of chump change in my knickers drawer,” you counter with a giggle.

“Well, I know where I’m looking next time we need money for pizza,” he cackles triumphantly.

“Keep your hands out of my knickers,” you protest, only realising how it sounds after it’s been spoken.

He raises an eyebrow at that, but in his drunken state, it’s more Donkey from Shrek than James Bond.

You just shrug. What does he want with your knickers anyway? 

-6 weeks later-

“What are you doing?”

“Shopping online,” he says idly, looking up from his phone as you hand him the carton of popcorn and take your seat next to him, “need new clothes.”

“I haven’t seen you in a new item of clothing in more than two years, Ben. Why change the habit of a lifetime?”

“They don’t fit anymore,” he shrugs, “need some new t-shirts.”

You just frown; it doesn’t look like he’s put on weight lately. Difficult to tell in winter, with all the layers. If anything, his jawline is even more defined recently than before, definitely growing into his looks.

“Switch that off,” you grouse, waving at his phone, “the film is starting.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “Luckily, I can have this on my eating regime,” he happily stuffs a large handful into his mouth, shooting you a goofy popcorn-filled grin.

Eating regime?

-3 weeks later-

“What is that noise?” You frown into your phone, putting down your buttering knife. 

“Oh, it’s the music, I guess,” he responds, sounding a little winded.

“Wait… where are you?”

“The gym.”

You snort. “C'mon, seriously, it’s Saturday morning. Don’t lie; you just haven’t made it home yet from a night out, right?” You take a bite of your breakfast.

“No,” he says slowly, as if explaining to a child, “I’m at the gym.”

“Wait… really?” You have to brush away the toast crumbs you spit out onto your pyjamas at that one.

“Yeah,” you can hear the confusion in his voice, “did you forget? Triathlon? You’re sponsoring me the GDP of a small nation, remember?”

“Hah,” you exhale, “really didn’t think that would stick.”

“Well, it is, I mean, I hate it here, but it is,” you can hear his breathing is a little heavy, making your stomach feel funny, being right in your ear like that. “So what did you want?”

“Hmmm,” you respond, distracted by his low voice.

“…You called me?” He prompts.

“Ohhh… was just curious if you want to hang out later. Pizza and a movie?”

“Yes, to a movie. Sadly, no to pizza. Despite the promise of raiding your knickers.” He gusts a laugh.

Your gasp is audible. “What?” 

“You…. You, joked that night? Remember? Keeping your money in your knickers drawer?” He sounds embarrassed.

“Oh yeah, sorry… too early for me,” you attempt to laugh it off. “I’m sorry, but what are you actually doing? Cos, you sound in pain, frankly.”

“Bike. I’m on kilometre 33” he sounds proud; bless him. To be fair, that’s quite an achievement for 9 am.

“Wow,” you look at your cup of tea and plate of toast and feel very lazy, “Well, see you later? 6ish?”

“I’ll be there,” he pants.

You have to hang up. That breathing and his slightly gravelly voice when he kept saying knickers is a bit too much.

-3 weeks later-

You’re out at a Thai restaurant, and he’s eating the spiciest soup ever, based on the sweat beading on his brow, at least.

“Why the hell did you order it at level 3?” you question, “you know that’s crazy hot.”

“Spice is good,” he counters, “revs up the metabolism.” 

“You look like you’re suffering.”

“All for a good cause,” he shrugs, “but might need to take off the woolly jumper.”

You curl some pad Thai noodles onto your fork and idly watch him fight off his thick fuzzy top.

Oh.

Underneath, he’s wearing a white t-shirt. You are taken aback by how filled it looks. And his arms? Why is there so much definition? You find yourself staring without even realising it. He wasn’t kidding about those gym visits—clearly.

A noodle unceremoniously plops back into your plate, splattering tamarind sauce onto your jumper and hand.

“Shit!” you busy yourself attempting to remove the stain with your paper napkin but glance up to see him looking at you with a smirk on his face. “What?” Your voice is a touch defensive.

“Nothing,” he singsongs, “just didn’t think you that type, you know?”

“What type?” You’re not looking at him again, pawing at the sweater, hoping it won’t stain.

“A perv,” he breezes

“Excuse me?!?” Your head shoots up.

“You heard me,” he answers, “you have no leg to stand on. You literally dropped your dinner staring at my body.”

You squirm in discomfort,  “I was simply taken aback, that's all,” again too defensive. “Gym seems to be paying off,” you add, aiming for nonchalant.

“Based on your reaction? Yes, I’d say so,” he chuckles.

“Eat your bloody fire soup, Popeye,” you grouse, knowing your cheeks are blushing; he just laughs louder.

-6 weeks later-

You walk down his street peeling off your jacket; so glad Spring weather is finally here. He said to come over at 7 pm for film time. You’re a little early; the bus was on time for once. It’s only 6:30 pm, but you figure he won’t mind, especially as you’re clutching a bottle of his favourite wine.

His building door is wedged open by someone moving their stuff out, so you just skip in and take the lift to his floor. He won’t mind you just knocking on his front door; you’ve been friends for so long and visit each other so much that you really should just exchange keys.

You knock casually on the door, checking your hair quickly in the gleaming ‘603’ of his door plate.

There’s a longish delay, then a “Who is it?” His voice sounds far from the door.

“Who do you think, Sherlock?” you laugh back.

“You’re early.” He says, a little harried-sounding.

“Let me in,” you grumble.

“Fine, but beware.” That sounds like a strangely ominous warning. 

Then the door sweeps open. And you forget quite how to breathe.

The first thing you notice—acres of toned skin. Dripping wet. You've obviously interrupted his shower. A towel is slung low on his hips, a little trail of glistening hair from his belly button (god, it was made for a tongue) down into the towel. Otherwise not much body hair, just lean muscles everywhere. A quiet ridiculous iliac furrow and flat washboard stomach sweeping up to a surprisingly well-toned chest. Not huge pecs but lean, toned. Broad, muscular shoulders. Exactly how a triathlete would look. As your eyes sweep down again, there’s an outline of something against the towel you definitely shouldn’t be looking at. 

“Why not just take a photo? It will last longer,” he teases quietly, with a raised eyebrow.

“Bloody hell Ben,” is all you can say, finally looking at his face.

“Better come inside. Can’t have you glitching in the corridor.”

He steps aside with a smirk and gestures you in. You walk almost on autopilot, silently handing him the wine as you pass and catching a whiff of delightful woodsy clean shower gel as he closes the door behind you.

“I can’t be drinking at the moment, but thank you,” he says quietly, placing the wine on the hallway table.

“I’m sorry I’m early,” you find your voice, “I should have buzzed, but the door was wedged open downstairs, so I just came up.” You know you are rambling slightly, not quite wanting to look at him again. 

He smirks as you go to sit in his living room still on autopilot, and he follows, leaning in the doorway to his spare room opposite you, a pull-up bar above his head. 

“Please, go finish your shower, get dressed,” you encourage, taking off your shoes as you usually do when you get comfy on his sofa.

“Oh, I’m done,” he assures. “Just didn’t get around to drying yet, but that’s ok. I can air dry, always nice after I get back from the gym,” he says drolly and reaches up to loop an arm around the pull-up bar, the other hip dropping slightly. He’s deliberately showing off now, goading, teasing you. “Sometimes I don’t even bother to get dressed again, just go to bed naked; feels good after a workout.”

Well, that's a thought your traitorous brain didn't need. Your mind is a jumble of inappropriate thoughts of him naked as you watch his torso as he gestures, fascinated by the movements, the play of supple damp skin over lean muscle. Wondering what it would feel like under your fingertips, your lips, or your skin as he presses you into the mattress. The last lingering thoughts seem to coalesce into the strange question of contemplating what he might do if you walked over and ran your tongue over him right now.

“...Y/n?…” he’s looking at you expectantly. 

It’s patently obvious he has asked you a question, and you have utterly zoned out, your focus purely on his body and what you want to do to it, to him.

“Did you hear a word I said?” He asks teasingly.

“Sorry, I…” you feel embarrassed. 

“How long?” 

“How long what?”

“How long since you last had sex?” he smirks.

You inhale sharply. “That’s none of your business.”

“One, you are my friend; you can tell me.” A finger around the pull-up bar extends out as he counts the reasons with his fingers. “Two, you are looking at me like a hungry man looks at a triple-stacked burger.” Another finger. “And three, I can help with that,” he shrugs as the third finger unfurls.

Your eyes fly to his face, lips parting in shock. Did he just… proposition you?

“So I ask again… how long?” His voice is pitched low, the feel of it almost buzzing around your ribcage even at a distance.

“Six months,” you exhale, looking down at the ground, your mind flashing back to your last drunken awful one-night stand.

“My god,” he sounds genuinely shocked.

“I know,” you lament, still staring at the wooden floor, “I swore off one-night stands after one too many disappointments, and I haven’t met anyone since, so…” it’s your turn to shrug as your sentence trails off.

“Stand up.” His voice takes on a tone you’ve never heard before, and you’re on your feet before you quite register what’s happened.

Feeling nervous, you start rambling, “I suppose I should be more active in the dating apps, maybe? But I just find them so artificial, and honestly, I’d prefer a random bar meeting than this weird swipe-right culture. I feel like a dating dinosaur for saying that, but….”

“Y/n,” his timbre is velvety.

“Yes,” your response is soft, almost silent.

“Shut up.”

He prowls over to you with a look in his eye you have never seen before; it’s dangerous. Is this what Ben is like to all the people he sleeps with, you wonder? It’s very different from the friend you know and, yes, love. Platonically. Or at least you think it’s just that. Right now, you are honestly not sure.

He stops in front of you, his eyes glittering. “I’ve thought about you,” his voice is silky, pitched low. “What it might be like to cross that invisible line, to give in to temptation.” 

Your breath is uneven now, your pulse speeding up as your good friend messes with every sense in your body. His smell is intoxicating; you can feel the shower warmth radiating off him. You daren't meet his gaze; he is too close. You keep your eyes cast down slightly, staring at the constellation of tempting freckles smattered across his breastbone. 

“Look at me,” he orders quietly, two fingers curling under your chin and pushing your face up to look at his. Fuck, he is devastatingly handsome, so close-up. All cheekbones and hazy eyes. Rivulets of water from his freshly washed curls running down his neck, pooling above his clavicle and in his suprasternal notch. Your tongue almost feels heavy. Desperate to track the journey of those droplets.

“I can’t even see the colour of your eyes anymore,” he rumbles, “your pupils are blown so wide.” He moves the fingers from your chin, trailing them up to run over your lips. “Your lips look almost wine-stained, so flushed. God y/n, you look devastating when you’re aroused.” 

You are shocked you are still standing. Who does this? Many men would just have stuck their tongue into your mouth by now. Not this tease; he is determined to ruin you. Slowly. He drops the hand from your face, but your knees feel strangely jelly-like as he leans his whole body closer, ghosting a breath over your cheek.

“No perfume today, hmm,” he murmurs, “just you and your tempting smell. You have no idea how good you smell without it, just a touch of body wash and a lot of,” he takes a deep inhale, “...you.” 

How can one syllable be so devastating?

“Ben,” a single word escapes your lips.

“What?” The ‘t’ is a staccato against the shell of your ear.

“What’s happening here?” Your whisper is a little desperate. 

“Whatever you want to happen,” he replies, his voice right against your cheek, “six months is too long for anyone, but especially someone as special as you.” He opines, and a single finger draws a line down the skin of your sternum to the first button of your shirt. “I’m counting to three; then I’m undoing this button,” he murmurs. “You have until then to get away from me, and we can just pretend this never happened.” 

“One….” You inhale and stay very still.

“Two…” The tension is palpable as you pull back slightly and meet his molten gaze.

“Three…” His deft fingers flick open the button as his lips hover over yours but never touch.

This is the Benedict Bridgerton you’ve heard rumours about, the one you’ve listened to women whispering about in the bathroom at parties that you could never quite fathom or reconcile to the goofy friend you’ve always known. It’s like he’s hidden a part of himself from you and only now is revealing it—this devilish, devastating seducer. 

“Ben,” you stutter, feeling the warmth of his fingertips trace gently over your skin to the following button, feeling his breath on your lips. 

“Yes?” you feel the word as much as you hear it.

“Kiss me,” he has you begging.

His lips finally capture yours, but it is still just a tease. Surging forward, then pulling back, goading you with just a glimpse of opened lips, a peek of what his tongue is offering. He wants you to take from him; you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

As his fingers find the next shirt button, you throw your arms around his neck and dive in. Trapping his hand between your bodies. The dewy, dampness of his showered skin seeps into your cotton shirt as you press against him and run your tongue into his mouth, grabbing a fist full of his hair and growling slightly into him.

“Oh, there it is,” he teases into your open mouth, “the wild thing hiding under this witty, intelligent exterior. I just knew it.” 

His touch of arrogance should be off-putting, but he’s being so complimentary with it, it’s just plain hot. You make a desperate noise in the back of your throat and smash his lips back to yours, this time goading him to plunder your mouth. Another button pops undone under his fingers as you surge against him, feeling something hot and insistent pressing through the thin towel and the waistband of your jeans.

He is down to the last button now. He flicks it loose and then tugs the shirt down over your shoulders but doesn’t pull it off completely, just leaves it there, trapping your arms in the sleeves taunt, slightly behind you.

He moves to run his nose over your cheek, “I know all your secrets. I’ve watched you so closely over the years. What makes you bite your lip, squirm in your seat.” His lips tease against your jaw as he keeps talking. “I’ve seen your gaze linger on people making out. You couldn’t look away from that couple fucking in the Barbican stairwell.” His mouth is on your neck now, a hot slide of kisses. “I’ll never forget the look on your face. I could tell how much you craved it. It took all my strength not to throw you against the wall and take you right then. But no, I chose to remember it. So that one day I could tell you what I know for certain. You love to watch and be watched, don’t you?” His voice should be illegal. 

You breathe heavily, slightly ashamed he can read you like a book, as he holds you steady, arms still ensnared. 

“I’ll fuck you against the window,” his tone sinful against your ear, “that’s exactly what you want, isn’t it? To have the whole neighbourhood watch you.”

You don’t have to say anything; he knows the answer from your reaction. Your body quivers as he yanks the shirt off, tosses it away, and then takes a step back. The obvious tent under his towel makes you bite your lip hard. He looks like the definition of sin.

“Come with me.” He pulls you by the hands, walking backwards, and you follow, your eyes on him the entire time. Nipples pebbled hard, and underwear flooded. He stops before his floor-to-ceiling window and whirls around, crowding into your back. 

“Take. It. Off.” Each word is a sentence.

“What?” You don’t even hide the panting in your voice.

“Everything,” he exhales, “every last stitch you are wearing. Strip right here.”

Your hands move to your jeans as you shakily exhale and unzip. You are so relieved you wore matching lingerie today. Perhaps subconsciously, you did so on the off chance of this outcome.  Large hands land on your hips and assist the push of denim until it hits the floor, and you flick it away with your foot. You are just in underwear now.

His hands sweep over your torso, the slight callouses he has developed from the bike snagging on your skin as he nuzzles your cheek. His lips find yours in another heady, passionate kiss. As your tongues dance, his hands cup both breasts. He teases your nipples with swipes of his thumb over your bra. 

Longing to feel those fingers on your flesh, you push each bra strap down until they hang loose. 

“Unhook me,” you whisper and a hand trails around and plucks open the clasp effortlessly.  

You peel away the bra and throw it aside, feeling his heated gaze slide down your skin over your shoulder. 

“So perfect,” he whispers; his fingertips are so warm and teasing on your nipples. 

You moan and curve your chest out, chasing his touch, causing your bum to push back against his cock. 

“Look at you,” he growls, “look at yourself in the window.”

You gaze forward, and in the reflection, you see a wanton tableau of your breasts trapped in his large hands, his body pressed against yours from behind. 

“Fuck, Ben,” you whisper and stare, hypnotised as you slowly undulate your hips. Watching your body move sinfully against his as he groans.

“Yesss,” he hisses in encouragement, pushing against you, just his towel and your underwear separating your bodies as you move slowly in unison.

“I believe I told you to take everything off,” he rasps, grabbing your hips and running fingers over your underwear.

“You do it,” you murmur back challengingly. 

“Oh, that's how you want to play, is it?” His voice is low and dangerous. “Fine”. He walks you forward. “Put your hands on the window,” he commands. 

You do so; the cold of the glass contrasts with the heat of his hands on your body. A thrill runs down your spine at the thought of someone in the surrounding windows, maybe a few people, watching this happen.

Ben’s hands hook into the fabric at your hips, and he inches the material lower as he leans over your back. Warm lips press against your upper spine between your shoulder blades, and you groan as he runs his tongue down your back as his hands push the underwear down your legs. He’s crouching behind you now as he kisses the swell of your bottom, his hands throwing aside your underwear. 

“Open your legs wider,” he orders softly, and you stutter a breath, feeling one of his hands sweep up your inside leg and quests against your mound. You gasp his name. He chuckles richly and finds your clit, nudging it lightly with a fingertip, making you cry out and clench down.

“You have no idea how much you’ve driven me crazy over the years, do you?” he groans, his mouth open against your butt cheek, lightly grazing your skin with his teeth, fingers teasing in little circles. “Being my wonderful sweet friend when all I’ve ever felt is guilt about what I truly wanted. To bury myself between your legs,” he inhales lewdly. “Your bewitching smell drives me insane. Jesus Christ, y/n, you have no idea how many times I've taken myself in hand after spending time with you, desperate for you. How long I’ve waited for you to see me the way I see you.”

You crest a moan, unbidden, incapable of words, as he soliloquises his adoration for you in filthy precise detail. You had no idea this is how he feels; the thought he has come multiple times fantasising about you is something you can't comprehend, but you want to hear about it. You want him to tell you in precise detail about every time he has fucked his hand and thought about you.

“Tell me about it,” you blurt out before you can censor it.

“What?” he teases, his fingers circling your clit slowly, his lips kissing across to your other cheek.

“Touching yourself,” you squeak timidly, knowing you are blushing.

He stands up suddenly and spins you around to face him, the glass cool against your shoulder blades as he shoots you a molten look.

“Why don't I show you?” he whispers, and your eyes fall to the towel as it drops away under a flick of his hand.

Oh, Ben.

Nestled in a neat patch of trimmed hair is the nicest cock you've seen in a long time. Not so big as to be scary, but just delicious looking, more than a handful, and you are suddenly so utterly mindless for him to fuck you. Instead, he takes his cock in hand and leans close to you, not touching but millimetres apart. He makes a noise in the back of his throat that makes your breath hitch as his hand begins to move up and down, squeezing his shaft; a little bead appears at the head that your tongue longs to taste.

“Y/n,” he moans, his voice so resonant it vibrates through your very being, settling into a pulse between your legs as you feel a trickle of moisture escape and run down your skin.

“Ben,” you stutter.

“Y/n,” he repeats, moving his hand faster, his gaze piercing yours.

You rub your slick thighs together and bite your lip, hands flexing against the glass, nervous to touch him and break this heady spell.

“Please…” you plead quietly, “please fuck me.”

“God, I love it when you beg,” he groans and releases his cock, grabbing your hands and pulling them above your head, your watch tinking against the glass as his fingers sink between yours and he leans his whole body against you. The head of his cock slides hot against your belly button.

“Please,” you repeat as he thrusts slowly against your body.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, “I want you so mindless for me that you are shaking.”

No one has ever teased you like this. It's maddening. 

“Now, where was I, hmm?” his voice a light teasing thing as he sinks to his knees right in front of you, still holding your hands, placing them on his head before pulling your left leg over his shoulder. “I think I was just about to…” he stops mid-sentence and buries his face between your legs, the stubble on his jaw rasps against your inner thighs as his tongue delves into you, his nose bumping your clit. 

He growls right into your cunt as you cry out, and your hands flex on instinct, pulling on his hair, nails scraping his scalp. 

“Watch me,” he orders, and you make searing eye contact as he moves to suck hard against your clit, tongue rolling in surging waves, making your knees want to buckle. He senses it and grabs your hips, pushing you back against the glass. 

You keep your eyes on him, but your thoughts flit to whether someone is out there amongst all those other windows watching this. Him on his knees, face embedded between your legs, as you lean your back against the glass but thrust your hips forward, gyrating and riding his tongue. Making the neediest sounds, chasing your high with no thought to anything but this and now and oh god, yes. He is relentless, thorough and certainly the most enthusiastic you've had in ages, possibly ever. Talking filth right against your sodden flesh - about how good you taste, how much he has dreamed about this, how he can’t get enough and pleading with you to give him more noises and cries and everything. Lashing you with his tongue. But it’s when he moves a hand, slides two fingers inside you, and instantly finds your weak spot that you scream his name. 

“There it is,” he grunts and pushes you quickly towards the edge; no one has been quite this dedicated to ensuring you come intensely. Your legs start to shake, and he has to bear some of your weight on his shoulder as you lose coordination, the invisible string holding your body tight snapping, your nerve endings on fire, your vision whiting out, yelling and crying and convulsing against him. You breathe in heavy, sharp inhales as he gently kisses your folds and holds you up. The cooling glass is a wonderful balm against your heated flesh.

“Holy fuck Ben,” you exhale shakily as you finally find your voice.

“How do you feel?” he gloats quietly, tenderly placing your foot back on the ground with a quick squeeze of your ankle and a kiss on your knee.

“Shaky and amazing,” you answer honestly, closing your eyes and swallowing hard.

“Good,” is the silky reply as he gets to his feet in one swift motion and leans into you again, his cock searing against the dewy skin of your belly, and he grabs your face. “Now, where would you like me to fuck you? I can do it anywhere you want. You want right here? The table? The couch? The bed?” As he lists each spot, he softly kisses your cheeks, ears, forehead, and even lightly on your eyelids. 

“All of them,” you exhale.

“I’m not sure I have quite that much stamina,” he chuckles “you are so very…” he presses hard against you, his cock trailing moisture onto your skin as you gasp “...intoxicating.”

“I don't mean tonight, Ben,” then you get a sudden swooping feeling in your gut at your assumptions. “Wait, is this just a one-night thing?” your voice wavering, failing at the neutrality you hoped for.

“I just told you I have come fantasising about you for five years, and you think I'm letting you go after one night?” he gusts a laugh, fingers tracing delicately over your lips and cheeks.

“Five years?” you twist your mouth into a little playful pout, your confidence surging at his reply.

“Yes, you little tease,” he smiles, that crooked smile that always gives you butterflies. “Now answer the damn question before I go get a damn condom.”

You make a show of looking over his shoulder as if assessing your options, and he chuckles again, stooping his hips a little and sliding his cock between your thighs instead.

“Ohhhh,” you stutter, eyes fluttering closed and hands flexing against his back.

He thrusts lightly between your thighs, and on instinct, you close your legs a little, giving him more friction, the movement easy from your skin still soaked from the orgasm he gave you.

“You don't need to get a condom Ben,” you say quietly, “I trust you are clean, and I'm protected.”

He stills his movement and cups your face tenderly, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you nod, then smile with a flirtatious edge and move to whisper against his ear, “I want to feel all of you.” He makes a noise that has you buck against him, sliding his cock between your thighs again. The motion glances again at your clit, and you raggedly inhale. Oh god, you could just do this all night.

“C'mon y/n,” he teases, rocking gently, “pick somewhere before I just slide right into you here.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, and he mirrors the expression.

“Oh, you asked for this,” he gloats and stuns you by picking you up, wrapping your legs over his slim waist and sliding right into you, pulling you down onto his cock in one visceral, swift, plunging motion.

“Fuckkkkkkkkkkkk…..” you cry out, breath stolen, feeling so very invaded in the best possible sense. His cock holding you open, a sold hot weight deep inside. 

Oh, god, yes. This.

He holds still for so long that you pull his face from its spot, buried in your neck and nudge him to meet your gaze.

“Ben, are you ok?”

“More than ok,” his voice is rough. “You feel amazing; I… I need a moment before I can move; it’s been a long time since I was skin on skin, and well, it's you….” he admits, his tone is reverential.

You smile and kiss him on the forehead, tasting the tangy salt of his sweat. 

He pulls back slightly, his lips find yours as he surges back in, and he swallows the noise you make. Slowly he builds a pace, and you close your eyes, tilting your head towards the ceiling, concentrating on the sensation of him dragging against your walls, pushing you open with each move, the stretch so enthralling.

Oh god, we should have been doing THIS for the last five years, you think indulgently to yourself.

“I agree,” he murmurs, his mouth hooked over your chin.

“Shit, I didn't realise I said that out loud,” you admit sheepishly, tipping down to meet his gaze.

He gusts a laugh and spears into you a little rougher than before, your soft cry catching against his stubbly cheek. 

“I think I see someone watching us,” his voice suddenly dangerous and velvet, hot against your ear.

You inhale sharply and clench around him at the illicit, electric thrill that runs through your body.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“Tell me about what you see?” your voice is thready, somehow the thrill heightened by knowing you are totally at his mercy, legs around him, back against the glass.

“I think it's a couple,” his voice is gravelly. “At first, it was just a woman I saw a glance of; now there’s a man too.”

You moan and bear down onto him harder the thought you have an audience of this debauched tableau. You move an arm to wrap around his shoulder and pitch forward to bite his neck.

“Fuck y/n,” he exclaims, pulsing deep inside you.

“Tell me more, Ben, please,” you take his earlobe between your teeth, pulling it taut as he thrusts into you.

“Oh god, they are…. they are kissing,” he moans, his breathing becoming a little more ragged.

You clench hard again, and he growls long and low, pulling his face back to rest his forehead against yours.

“We did that,” he sounds feral. “We fuck so good we make others want to do it too.” 

“Yessss,” you writhe on him, “fuck me hard, Ben, make them jealous, make them all watch as you ruin me.”

“Keep talking to me,” he pleads and hitches your legs onto his arms, pressing you higher on the glass, pounding into you now, his pubic bone surging against your clit with every stroke.

“Yes, Ben, make me come again, please; I want them to see me impaled on your cock, screaming your name,” the filth tumbling from your lips unfiltered as he spirals you higher.

“Oh god, yes,” his voice stutters as he thrusts hard. “Please do it; I've come so many times wanting to hear you scream my name, fingernails scratching my back, your cunt convulsing hard around me; god, please come for me again, please.”

His words and pleading and harsh movements is just the cocktail you need to push you over the precipice. Body going completely stiff, legs battling against his hold, so you scramble against the glass, smearing sweat and fluids as you fight the convulsions. Screaming his name, uncaring of his ears, the neighbours, anything but the feel of the snapping, blinding sensation and waves of bliss pulsing out of your core across your whole body. A static hum in the base of your skull at the release of every fibre of your being. You barely register the words and noises he makes as you feel his whole body stiffen, his mouth hooked on your shoulder, curled against you, as he holds you speared deep as you feel him coming powerfully inside you, a blooming warmth coating your insides.

“Fuck,” you pant in unison. Which makes you both giggle, faces pressed together, a light and intangible moment shared, as he lowers you slowly to your feet, his lips finding yours in a chaste kiss.

You keep your arms snaked around his neck and lean your head on his shoulder, listening to his thundering heartbeat, the shaking in your legs subsiding slightly.

“I can’t believe you held me up for that long,” you smile.

“Made every hellish gym visit worth it,” he returns, laughing gently, 

“Oh yes, the triathlon. When is it?” You sway gently in his arms, enjoying the easy intimacy you have.

“In about six more weeks,” he calculates, kissing your temple and slowly turning you both around, so his back is to the glass.

“Can I help with any training? I’m not a bad swimmer, you know,” you offer with a shrug.

His eyes glitter as he leans his forehead against yours, walking you back towards his bedroom. “I have to be in the pool first thing tomorrow; I would be delighted to have you join me.”

“I don't have a swimming costume with me,” you pout.

“I’d be happy for you to skinny dip,” his eyebrow shooting up in a way that makes your stomach somersault.

“I’ll do it if you do it,” you tease.

“Hmm, tempting y/n, but I doubt we would get any actual training done,” he says pointedly.

“Fair,” you concur, squinting comedically, and he chuckles as he backs you into his bedroom.

“Are we going for round two already, Mr Bridgerton?” Your tone is coquettish.

“Hmmm, I’m not Superman,” he replies playfully. “But I am now in need of another shower, so I thought perhaps we could do that together and then let’s see, it's still early after all.” 

He spins you around and walks you forward into his ensuite bathroom, wrapping his arms around you tight from behind and kissing a line down your neck. He only breaks away to flick on the shower, then leans back against his sink cabinet, pulling you into his arms as you await the warm water.

You glance over, and you spy a pair of tiny black Speedos on a towel rail.

“Is this what you wear in the pool?” You ask, snagging them between your fingers and twirling them around.

“Of course. Why?” his voice laced with intrigue.

“Fuck it; I’ll borrow a costume if I have to. You in these? That I have to see.”

He laughs. 

“It’s an early start. 6 am.” His lips warm on your shoulder. “I was just going to leave you sleeping in my bed then return to ravish you at a more decent hour, perhaps with some coffee and a croissant for you?”

“I changed my mind. Fuck yes, that please,” you declare. “But I will need you to model the Speedos for me at some point, Ben,” you warn with mock sincerity.

“Duly noted,” he chuckles and pulls you under the warm spray of water. 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton

[twistedappletree]

Hiiii apple is it okay to ask for a bit of the sect leader fic? It’s so exciting to see the babies grown up lolol i can’t wait to read 🩵🩵

As the lovely person who gave me the fic idea, you absolutely can Koi-Koi 😘

I think you’ll like this part. It takes place 6 months after Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi officially become sect leaders and Lan Sizhui leaves to travel and cultivate with Wen Ning.

However, Lan Sizhui never contacts either of them after promising to keep in touch and the only information they’ve received about his wellbeing has been from Hanguang-Jun, who simply says, “He’s fine” every time they ask.

So Jin Ling pesters Lan Jingyi to play Inquiry because he’s afraid something bad has happened to Lan Sizhui.

•

“Can’t you just trust Hanguang-Jun?”

“I need to know for myself.”

Lan Jingyi sighed and sat cross legged on the ground, setting his guqin over his lap. The quiet sounds of the forest and the chill of the night air made him feel lonely, despite Jin Ling nervously pacing back and forth beside him. “You do realize you’re basically asking me to contact my best friend as if he’s dead, right?”

Jin Ling stopped pacing and frowned. “I don’t like it any better than you do which is why I’d rather rule out the possibility.”

“Hanguang-Jun wouldn’t lie,” Lan Jingyi countered.

“And he also has no way of knowing where Sizhui is every minute of every day.” Jin Ling hugged himself as a cold breeze rushed past him, his mind wandering to the memory of Lan Sizhui disappearing into the horizon when his boat left the docks of Jinlintai. “A lot can happen in a minute.”

“Fine,” said Lan Jingyi, “But I’m doing all the talking whether it’s Sizhui or not. Last thing we need is you scaring off spirits with your attitude.”

Jin Ling rolled his eyes and plopped down next to him, keeping his arms crossed and his nose upturned. “Whatever. Let’s just get it over with already.”

Lan Jingyi took a deep breath before plucking the notes of Inquiry on his guqin. Though his spiritual energy was nowhere near as strong as Hanguang-Jun’s, his guqin language had come quite a long way in his short six months as a sect leader.

As the world around them ignited in glowing hues of teal and ghostly blue, Jin Ling stared intensely at the guqin’s strings, almost willing them to stay silent. He knew the best response would be no response at all, so he genuinely hoped nothing would come of this night.

“Okay,” Lan Jingyi said. “Time to start aski—“

The guqin’s strings hummed involuntarily, the notes sounding both determined and desperate. Tendrils of spiritual energy reached out like waiting arms to Jin Ling who stumbled back in shock. The tendrils soon retreated back to the guqin, not strong enough to pursue him.

“What—why is it doing that?” Jin Ling’s eyes darted around, looking equally perplexed and mortified.

More notes rang from the guqin and Lan Jingyi furrowed his brow at Jin Ling. “Don’t be scared,” he translated. “They’re talking directly to you.” He’d never encountered such an intensely talkative spirit before. Whoever it was seemed insistent on speaking to Jin Ling.

“Could… could it be…” Jin Ling frowned, wondering if they’d made contact with one of his late family members instead.

Lan Jingyi seized a quiet moment between the spirit’s contact to ask quick, basic questions: are you male or female? Male. How old are you? Twenty. Are you a relative? No. Are you a friend? Yes. Where are you? Too far. I can’t reach you.

When Lan Jingyi translated the last question’s answer, Jin Ling’s mind was invaded by a flashback of his recurring dream—Lan Sizhui bleeding from his qiqiao, eyes plagued with horror while saying, I can’t reach you over and over.

Jin Ling almost fell over scrambling towards the guqin. “Sizhui?!”

Lan Jingyi protectively held his arms over his guqin’s strings the second he saw Jin Ling reaching for them. “Are you insane?! Don’t touch them in the middle of Inquiry, you’ll mess it up!”

A weak but willful tendril of spiritual energy gently snaked its way around Jin Ling’s hand and through his fingers before disappearing into the night air. Soon, all of the spiritual energy around them absorbed into the earth and the guqin fell silent.

Jin Ling’s face hovered above the guqin’s strings, lips trembling and eyes wide, glazed with oncoming tears. “Bring him back,” he whispered hoarsely. He narrowed his eyes and lunged at Lan Jingyi, aggressively grabbing him by his robe’s lapels. “Bring him back!”

Lan Jingyi grimaced and clutched Jin Ling’s wrists, ripping his hands away from him. “Will you calm down?! We don’t even know if that was him!”

“It was!” Jin Ling finally broke into tears. “It was him, Jingyi, I know it was! You need… you need to bring him back. Play Inquiry again and bring him back!”

“I can’t! If it was him, he’s the one who broke communication! Spiritual energy can only last so long, do so much. If I try to bring him back now, he’ll be too weak to communicate—“

“Then what’s the point?!” Jin Ling drove his fist into the ground with enough force to make a small crater in the dirt. His hair fell into his face and his entire body quaked with a mess of complicated emotions.

Lan Jingyi frowned and sat up straight, slowly covering his guqin in its cloth. “Look… I know it’s frustrating but we can’t force this. We need to give ourselves—we need to give him a break. We can try again tomorrow, okay?”

Jin Ling stayed silent for a moment longer. He wiped his face with his sleeve then pushed himself to his feet, too exhausted by his outburst to argue. “Fine.”

Lan Jingyi watched him turn and walk away without another word, leaving him alone in the woods with his guqin and a few remnants of spiritual energy flickering on the ground. He looked down at his guqin and furrowed his brows. “You’re not dead,” he whispered. “I know you aren’t. So don’t mess around next time.”

Lan Jingyi tucked his guqin under his arm as he rose to his feet and took one last glance at the fading energy peppering the earth’s soil. “You left me too, remember?”

•

Lan Sizhui opened his mouth to call his name but he had no voice to call him with. Lan Jingyi was nothing but a silhouette in a thick haze that turned and disappeared, leaving Lan Sizhui surrounded by a never ending, impenetrable fog.

Finally, the last of his energy depleted and broke him out of his dreamlike state. Lan Sizhui was pummeled back into reality, lying on the cold damp floor of a cave surrounded by a magical cage. He was too weak to sit up but he knew he’d be free soon. He just had to hold on a bit longer.

“I’m sorry.”

#mdzs #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #jin ling #jin rulan #lan jingyi #lan sizhui #lan wangji #he’s mentioned at least lmao #fic wip #answered asks #koiblossoms #Jingyi’s last line basically hints at him feeling a bit put out by LSZ trying so hard to contact JL but not him #because he’s still in the dark about JL and LSZ’s relationship #and LSZ was able to basically take over the inquiry session because of his spiritual energy being stronger than LJY’s #even when he’s trapped #my baby prodigy he’s best boy fr 🥺💕 #anyway not gonna spoil everything obviously #but I love this scene because it shows LJY and JL’s friendship #that they’ve become close enough that LJY is willing to play inquiry to ease his anxiety #but a part of him was definitely also curious if something had happened to LSZ #KOI KOI IM SO EXCITED FOR YOU TONREAD THIS WHEN ITS FINISHED AHHHH #apple fics 🍎 #disclaimer that this hasn’t been edited #so it’s subject to change when I proof read everything #also before I forget #LSZ found a way to contact them through dreaming when they play inquiry #which is what that last part is about #innovative BABY BOY I love him sm

[leslutdepointedulac]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by: @mothmage, @hekateinhell & @desertfangs Thank you my loves 💞

1. How many works do you have on A03? 19 atm but that's about to become a lot more from next month lmao.

2. What’s your total A03 word count? 46,413

3. What fandoms do you write for? The Vampire Chronicles and as of right now, nothing else.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Nothing's Fair in Love and War Drunken Matrimony Lupercalia Experimentations and The Long Road

5. Do you respond to comments? I do, always!! I love responding to comments, it's one of my favourite things about writing fics tbh.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? The way I've had to think about this for too long because several of my fics could fit here. I think I'd say The Long Road because although there is hope (and the knowledge from canon) that things will get better for Louis, but he's still in the depths of his darkness and there's such a long way to go re: his recovery. That or Let Sleeping Lions Lie. (I would've said my siren au, but I think that's more my darkest ending to a fic, as opposed to the angstiest.)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I'd say it's either Second Chances or Drunken Matrimony. I think they're also very sweet endings.

8. Do you get hate on fics? No, no that I know of anyway. If anyone is hating on my fics, I don't know about it.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do but it's canon compliant, so no actual sex. There's two reasons for that: 1.) because I'm not quite there yet with wanting to write full on smut and 2.) because I genuinely just really enjoy writing canon complaint smut. As much as I really love reading smut, I feel like there should be more fics that embrace and explore the vampire's canon asexuality. It's a part of canon that I really enjoy and think is very important, so I like to bring some of that into my fics too!

Also, when it comes to Louis' character in particular, imo anyway, it's a good insight into him during IWTV. Because even though it's not actual sex, I find it interesting to explore how he might be reluctant to even just share blood in an intimate manner, because of his repression re: his queerness in that time.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I haven't written any crossovers yet and I don't know that I ever will tbh. It's just not something I see myself writing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? No, I hope not anyway. I'm not aware of it if that has happened.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I haven't, but if anyone ever wanted to, that would be cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but I'd totally be down to if someone wanted to co-write with me one day!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Loustat all day everyday!! (Though Loumand follows extremely close behind.)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Ngl, I always intend on finishing any WIPs I have. Even if it takes me a while, I will always try to complete one if I've already started it.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think just the fact that I'm able to wing it. I don't plan anything when I'm writing. I always have a basic idea as to what I want the fic to be about, but when it comes to actually writing it, I don't plan/draft anything. I just go for it and make it up as I go.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I'm trying to improve on making my fics longer. I think I'm slowly getting better, but there's still progress to be made lmao.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I quite like it. I have written some small bits in French but that's using Google translate. (ik, ik. Not overly accurate) I think if the character speaks another language that they would use relatively frequently, then I think it can be quite good to add it in.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I'd like to say TVC, which is technically right, but years ago when I was still in school, I had to do some creative writing for English, and I did write what was basically Crimson Peak fanfic. So depending on how you look at it, it's either Crimson Peak or TVC.

And actually, now I think about it, ever since primary school, I've always based my creative writing for school off things I was into. So on that basis, who knows what my first ever fic was about lmfao. For the sake of this, we'll say it's TVC.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Tbh, I don't know if I have a favourite. All my fics are my babies, and if I try to say just one of them, then I'll just be like "Oh wait actually, what about this one? Oh but I really love this one too!" And it would keep going until I've mentioned all of them, so I can't choose.

It's Hē Seirḗn

Tagging: @cinnamonclove @effyrosemary @deaddovehasbeeneaten @aunteat @butchybats @bubblegum-blackwood no pressure of course 💞

#tag game #vampire chronicles #tvc #vc fic #vc fanfic #my vc fics #my vampire chronicles

[morningstargirl666]

When is The Big Bad Wolf Act 2 coming out?? Are you going to release monthly or all at once?? (I just finished the series and I’m in love 🩷🩷 no rush to write, just wondering if you have an idea because you have loyal readers waiting to love it!!! Have a great day <3)

Hello! Lovely to meet you and thank you so much for reading, that fic is a BEAST. So glad you enjoyed it!

So. When is the next update coming out? [nervous laughter]

Thing is, I told myself now I'm halfway i'll go back and edit, smooth things out before this fic literally becomes too long to tackle and that kinda...turned into a full rewrite?

I'm not changing the plot. That's exactly the same. But my ideas for the lore have changed since I first started writing and I wanted to add in a whole lot more of characterisation and set up for the chapters to come. I rewrote The Little Wolf back in December and recently did some tweaking to chapter 5 of it just this last week (I couldn't work out how to fix it when I first did the rewrite but I had an EPHIPHANY okay). So The Little Wolf is around 35k now, which is a huge difference to the 11k it was in November when I posted chapter 35 of tbbw. It's got tons of new scenes, a sharper forcus on the Mikaelson siblings not just Klaus and two whole new chapters. Of course, you've probably already read that as it is posted and you're a new reader, but that's what I was doing before Christmas, essentially.

As for The Big Bad Wolf itself...boy, where do I start. I'm approaching 85k on the rewrite...only on chapter 7. Which technically used to be chapter 6, because I got 5 chapters in before I added a new chapter. I guess that's a record for my restraint, at least.

So, in terms of what's happening: I'm re-writing tbbw. The plot isn't changing, but new scenes are being added, conversations are being tweaked, the lore is being more consistently fleshed out. Grammar for dialogue is being given a complete overhaul because that was a mess. But. Listen. It's so much better. It's so fucking better. I re-read the chapters I've done and in some places, the drafts aren't quite finished yet, like my writer brain is like fix this later BUT omg it's like, THE shit. It's so good. I've very excited.

I'm not sure how long it will take to finish. I might be able to stop halfway and post the rewritten/edited chapters I've got so far but I make no promises because I feel more inclined to keep going and get it all done in one. Some chapters won't need much work at all as they've been more heavily edited in the past (chapter 8 and 9 should be done pretty quickly, just giving them a facelift), while others I'm really ripping into. There's one chapter I know I'll either delete or delete scenes from to be replaced with something else (don't worry, the scenes will go into my deleted scenes fic on ao3, it's not gone forever).

So yeah. At the rate I'm going, I'm not gonna lie, it may take till the summer before I get all this editing done AND finish the new chapter 36 update - and you may get two new chapters at once, because it might be a long one and I might split it. But by the end of it, tbbw won't be 378k anymore. It'll probably be closer 450k. So you'll get a 50k+ update (along with some bonus stuff) to the whole fic and then a week later I'll post the new chapters (I used to post fornightly, a chapter every two weeks, and I'll go back to that when I'm done).

But yeah. I've written like, 110k since December, which for context is is closing in on the equivalent of the second book of TLOTR trilogy: The Return of the King was 137,115 words. That's an epic novel's worth. In three months.

An arguement could be made that I'm making this fic way too long but I don't really care? I love writing this. It makes my head spin and makes me tear my hair out but...it's so much fun too. And I get to rewrite canon, the way it should have been (we were so ROBBED 😭😭😭), so hey! It's free therapy too! I'm not going to stop as long as I'm loving every second.

Thanks for reading, and thank for listening to my insane plans! Hopefully, I'll see you there on ao3 when this fic is back for business!!

-And it WILL be back.

#anon ask #the big bad wolf #tbbw #morningstar writes #klaroline fanfiction #klaus x caroline #klaroline #ask and you shall receive #don't lose hope anon I'm getting there #slowly but surely I'm getting there

[blouisparadise]

Today we’re excited to share the fourth part to our college/university rec list! If you missed them, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy these fics, please be sure to like and reblog the post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Outline Of My Sins | Explicit | 6551 words

Prompt 453: AU where alpha Harry is an art student who is taking a figure drawing class and omega Louis is the nude model. In the many years that Harry has taken art classes, he has never been more hot and bothered than now, having to stare at a beautiful nude omega model for hours.

2) Is Ur Muffin Buttered? | Explicit | 7053 words

He knew what he was getting into when he began to hook up with Harry Styles. How could he not? Everyone on campus knew about him, the type of player he was, ready to break hearts and beds and all that. But it wasn’t as if he had planned the mess he was getting into it, at least not in the beginning.

3) Peaches | Explicit | 7669 words

Once behind Harry, he bends over and places his hands on Harry’s thighs, slowly rubbing while bringing them up to Harry’s chest. Noticing the more prominent bulge in the alpha’s pants, the omega starts to whisper the lyrics in Harry’s ear.

4) Kiss It Better | Mature | 8080 words

Harry shakes his head with a light laugh and leans down to kiss him again which Louis happily accepts even if he is a little confused by the reaction. "Baby, not a night has gone by that I haven't thought about you in my bed, naked, and begging for my cock."

Blinking up at him with wide eyes, Louis opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. While they did flirt a lot over the last few weeks, Harry had never said anything like that. It shocks him as much as it turns him on.

"News to me."

"I won't lie and say I like random hookups or casual sex, but to me this isn't what that is."

Louis swallows thickly, unsure of what to say to that but once again Harry gives him an out.

"So, If you want we can stay up here and I can show you all the things I've thought about doing to you." Another kiss, quick and sweet. "Or, we can go back downstairs and we'll dance all night."

5) Be The Artist To My Muse | Explicit | 9665 words

“I think I’m in love,” Harry says, flopping back to lay on the bench again.

Nick sighs and pats Harry on the head.

“There, there. You’ll forget him in a day or so.”

6) The One Who Stays And The One Leaving You  | Mature | 10315 words

Fuck.

He had just slept with none other than Harry Styles.

7) Like A Hurt, Lost, And Blinded Fool | Not Rated | 13919 words

ABO college AU where alpha Harry is a frat boy and he asks omega Louis out multiple times but he rejects him every time because Louis doesn’t like how frat boys act towards omegas. One night at a Halloween party, Harry dresses up as a stormtrooper and keeps his mask on all the time and flirts with Louis and Louis flirts back without knowing that’s Harry under the costume.

8) No Lemon Drops No Bubblegum | Explicit | 14979 words

They never interacted in that one semester, in that one class, and never were put in the same group, never sat close to each other. Then again, it’s not like Louis was hoping it’ll turn to something more. Just a fleeting crush, that he’ll get over once he stops seeing him every week.

Except he hasn’t stopped, he’s still thinking about it once in a while. What’s Harry Styles doing today? Has he cut his hair? Does he still eat scones for breakfast every Wednesday? He got his answers now, at least about the state of his hair. Harry’s hair is a lot shorter than the last he remembers, it curls around his ear, framing his square jaw nicely. He’d have to ask about the scone next time. If there’s ever a next time.

University AU. In which Louis is most definitely not pining.

9) Nothing’s Scarier Than Losing You | Explicit | 15466 words

When Louis and Harry run into each other at a Halloween party two months after their breakup, they’re reminded of how rude, infuriating, and utterly perfect for each other they are.

10) Treading Through Flowerbeds | Explicit | 20384 words

“So are you coming to class or are you gonna take the day off to shop online for your vibrator?” Zayn props his shoulder against the doorframe and watches Louis scurry around their room in amusement.

“I wouldn’t have lost the bet if—” Harry and his massive dick didn’t exist, “—you didn’t make us go to that frat party.”

“You’re the one who said you could flirt your way out of a speeding ticket with that old, bald policeman,” Zayn replies. “You know, you should be glad we went with the vibrator up your arse instead of taking Viagra before class.”

11) Baby, Loving You’s The Real Thing | Explicit | 21011 words

Harry never thought he’d be taking care of a child at the age of twenty-one—well, trying to anyway.

12) Cut The Sides, Don’t Touch The Back | Explicit | 21596 words

Prompt 87: Harry’s been talking about getting a mullet for so long and Louis hates how good he pulls it off.

13) It’s Not A Walk In The Park To Love Each Other | Explicit | 24461 words

The one where Harry and Louis are roommates forced to quarantine together, but they hate each other very much a lot.

14) If It Wasn't For The Nights | Explicit | 28499 words

“Okay, so. You didn’t fuck. But you’re gonna go hiking with Harry?” Zayn raises an eyebrow. “You don’t even go outside.”

Louis groans, crossing his arms on the table and hiding his face in them. “I know.”

15) Dont Know Its Lost Til You Find It | Explicit | 30614 words

Maybe it’ll be better this way. Maybe Louis just needs to distance himself, get over his crush so Harry doesn’t have to worry about his obsessive friend who feels too much and says too little.

He wonders what this girl is like. What she looks like, what conversations they had to make Harry fall for her in three days. If maybe she’s just stellar in bed. If she smells like heaven or if it’s just the fact she’s a girl.

He wonders and wonders, resists the temptation to stare at the alpha, and gets exactly no work done.

16) You're An Alpha, Harry! | Explicit | 32900 words

Right before Harry goes to university, he presents as an alpha. Struggling with his newfound identity in a completely different environment, he seeks advice from the notorious Louis Tomlinson, an omega whose claim to fame is being the local campus sex expert. Sex Education AU.

17) If The Sun Don’t Shine | Explicit | 36335 words

In a world where you meet your soulmates in dreams, Louis has spent the last three years going to bed hoping to finally meet his, only to end up disappointed time and time again. It all changes with a violin.

18) Voicemail Sings A Wreck | Explicit | 37016 words

Louis is the president of the biggest omega sorority on campus, Harry is the president of the biggest alpha fraternity on campus, and they do not get along.

19) Catch Me If I Fall | Explicit | 47099 words

Lovers when on the stage but bitter rivals as soon as they step off, Harry and Louis have butted heads from the moment they first met. Locked in a stalemate that they hope to ride out until graduation, things take a turn when Harry learns that Louis is hiding a secret.

20) I Can’t Help It (If You Look Like An Angel) | Explicit | 52277 words

Louis remembered how just moments before he had been grateful at the pieces in display being anonymous for everyone that wanted to see them, a thin veil that protected the artists established firmly in place despite the disappointed faces from the gallery visitors when they realised they couldn't track what their eyes saw back to anyone, and they couldn’t demand any kind of explanations from them regarding what they felt.

That relief got lost in the back of his mind when his eyes caught onto the painting, the obvious attentiveness and care poured in the canvas making his chest hurt.

What do you find to be the most beautiful thing in the world?

Apparently, for someone, it was him.

21) Lost In The Sirens | Explicit | 53729 words

ABO fic where alphas and omegas can’t cohabitate as friends and Harry ‘supposed-to-be-a-beta’ Styles presents a few weeks before he and Louis ‘hot/spicy-omega-bestie’ Tomlinson are set to move into their new uni flat.

22) Gallery Of Us | Explicit | 55778 words

Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.    

23) It’s Golden, Like Daylight | Explicit | 61496 words

A college/ABO/fake relationship AU where longtime friends, Harry and Louis, come up with the perfect plan to fake date, which, of course, ends up being a complete disaster.

24) Lost & Found In Oblivion | Explicit | 74799 words

Omega Louis decided to hire an alpha for his heat to ease his touch deprivation, but little did he know everything would grow into so much more.

25) You’ve Got A Higher Power, You’re Once In Any Lifetime | Explicit | 113444 words

In a society full of prejudices, finding a family and being accepted, also seemed like an unrealistic utopia.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp #blp fic recs #college au #university au

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 30. brb x oc

a/n: DADDY'S HOME ( LITERALLY ). Also when I found out Akita/Pitbull mixes were a thing I immediately decided to make the puppies like that.

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff, jesus EFFING CHRIST THESE TWO MAKE ME SICK (with love <3)

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark

-

Christmas was fine, the New Years was fine, she spent with her family and her friends, and now she was one week from her 31st birthday, four months pregnant and waiting on Rooster's return. 

She was immensely thankful at how quickly time was passing by because she missed him so much. Maybe it was pregnancy hormones already acting up, she was never this impatient whenever Rooster was deployed, she never desired his presence so fiercely. But on the bright side, the pregnancy was finally starting to show, a little bit, it was just a little bump that didn’t prevent her from using her usual clothing, but it was definitely there.

Beatrice was also thankful of her family and friends stopping by to check on her, sometimes her parents would stay for way too long, longer than planned because they wanted to know more about her pregnancy and what they planned for the room - cue to her mother questioning if the ‘forest theme’ Beatrice painted would be good enough for the baby and Beatrice retorting that they’d be too small to have that sort of input yet.

The room itself was empty, there was only Beatrice’s paintings on the walls, nothing more, because she wanted to go buy stuff for the baby with Rooster. He was so excited to come back and do that too, he just wanted to step in the father role and work on himself. He did mention that sometimes he feared he’d be too overwhelmed or that he’d be too much of a satellite dad around the baby.

Beatrice repeated something he told her months before, they were both new to this thing, both of them had this fear inside but they wouldn’t be alone. They had each other - and their family and friends - to go through with it. 

Rooster said that he’d come back either by this week or the next, he couldn’t say for sure but he’d let her know if he did leave. Beatrice just thanked him either way and told him they’d both eagerly wait for him. Honestly she was more than ready to have him back, “You guys will love him,” she tells Jack and Eleanor, who were now showing a bit more pitbull esque characteristics than when they were born with the exception of the longer ears and the obvious curved tail…they strangely resembled Akitas and Beatrice wondered if that was their father’s breed, “He’s so excited to meet you two!”

Eleanor was the more animated of the two, she was loud and liked to jump, probably a lot more brave than her brother and mother because Beatrice would often see the white puppy sitting in front of the front door barking at everyone and everything. Jack however, was literally a mama’s boy, he’d often hang close to Jolene and hide either between her back paws or behind her, probably to hide from his sister’s constant play fighting. “God, he’s going to probably lie down and let you guys climb him.” she giggles while giving the puppies their food, “Eleanor, don’t push your brother, both of you will have your food.”

The white puppy licks her maw and steps away from her shy brother, curly tail wagging vigorously as she watched Beatrice with her big brown eyes, diving in the second the bowl was in front of her. Jack looked over to Jolene, as if to ask if it was okay to do so, then started eating himself.

Beatrice sighs as she sits down on the kitchen table, looking at her stomach with a little smile, it was finally visible and she often caught herself looking at her reflection in the full body mirror they had in their room. It was small, it was barely visible unless she bent her body a certain way, but it was there, undoubtedly so, there was their baby.

It was crazy how there was a life currently growing inside of her, that this baby was hers and Rooster’s and that it’d be so loved by so many people. 

One bad thing however that she noticed was how quickly fatigued she’d get already, especially after work. During work she was fine, she’d move around as quickly as possible - even if Penny often told her to stay behind the bar - but when she got home, she would barely remember to lock the door with how tired she was. She fell asleep on the shower more often than she could count, just sitting in the corner with her head on her knees as a pillow before finally waking up to go to bed.

According to her mother, sisters and Penny, this was very normal and it’d only get more intense as time goes on. Her father joked that if the baby was making her so tired while still growing, imagine when it was born.

“You won’t be that over the top child, right?” she asks her stomach, smiling with one of her hands holding her head up, “You’ll be kinda cool right? Just so we could sleep?” again there was no response but Beatrice could imagine her baby running around the house, giggling and being curious. 

And Rooster called himself a ‘daredevil child’ because of so many broken bones, of how active he was as a child. While it was adorable imagining their baby like that, it was also worrying, just a little bit.

“...well, it’s not like I’ll know until you are here.” Beatrice says to the baby inside, “I know you can’t hear us yet, but I like talking to you. And your dad will love talking to you too.” and she’d continue her sentence, but the fatigue from before came back with a vengeance, “Oh come on, I just woke up!” she says even after standing to her feet to go back to bed, groaning in annoyance because she had plans for today.

Like…watching TV and napping on the couch.

Well, maybe she didn’t have much plans on her day off.

Beatrice petted Jolene as she walked past the pitbull, Eleanor and Jack stopping their chomping to follow Bea with their eyes until she disappeared up the stairs. Beatrice blinked heavily, “It’s just a nap.” she whispered, “There’s nothing more than that, I’ll even set up an alarm.” she smiles almost drunkenly with how much sleep returned, hoping that she could at least wake up after a few minutes and not ignore her alarm like a few weeks before.

Thankfully she was still wearing her pajamas so all she had to do was climb back onto the bed and curl on his side of it, nuzzling his pillow with her eyes slowly closing until she was back into slumberland.

She had a quick nap dream, one that probably showed a glimpse of the future for both of them.

She saw herself, Rooster and their child on his shoulders. The baby looked to be at least two years old at best, wearing a shirt that matched Rooster’s, with sunglasses that too matched Rooster’s but much smaller. Their hair was a bit longer below the ears, brown like hers and their little hands were holding on their father’s jaw as they walked around.

The baby was saying something, or babbling it, she couldn’t identify but Rooster replied to their kid’s little nonsensical talking with an answer of his own. And Beatrice felt her heart flutter just by watching the two, one of her hands holding on his elbow since both of his hands were busy keeping their kid upright as they wander in a…dog park? 

She saw Jolene and Jack and Eleanor, who now were amazingly bigger than their mother and resembled an Akita Inu with a stocky nose like a pitbull, running around, jumping over other dogs and just having fun.

Beatrice touches her stomach and then looks down, seeing that she was pregnant yet again, furrowing her brows, about to ask Rooster something when she feels him kissing her cheek. Once, twice, then going down her neck to nibble the soft flesh. She tries to stop him since they were at a public space with their child, even through soft giggling because of his antics, but he doesn’t stop.

In fact, it feels a lot more intense than before when she groans in her sleep, trying to evade whoever it was that was doing that. “Gorgeous.” she hears “Is this any way to greet your husband when he gets back home?”

Everything stops.

The dream melts as if it was ice and she’s greeted by the darkness behind her eyelids. Beatrice then blinks her eyes open, blurry vision turning sharper when she notices she is still in their room, still looking at the wall opposite to the door but there’s a presence right behind her. 

She hesitates for a few seconds, until she feels yet another kiss - and the brush of a mustache - right underneath her jaw. Beatrice turns around quick enough to give herself whiplash, seeing that the person right behind her was no one other than Rooster himself, “Roos?” her eyes widened, sleep now forgotten, “Roos!!”

Her arms wrap around his neck, his own arms wrapping around her waist as she takes in that he is really back. His cologne hits her nose, his lips are now pressing soft kisses to her temple and she relaxes in his hold, “You are back.”

“I am.” he says quietly, kissing her hairline, “Just got here.”

“But…I thought you’d message me?”

His soft chuckle makes the hair on her forehead move with his laugh, “I did, but you didn’t reply, so I just got inside.”

Beatrice blinks in surprise, pulling back from his neck to lean towards her phone, unlocking it to check the screen and…there was a message from Rooster, telling her he was on his way home already, “Oh. I didn’t hear the phone.”

“You were sleeping really nice too, I don’t blame you.” he smiles, “God, I missed you.” and his lips are on hers the second he finishes the sentence. Beatrice grins against his mouth, dropping the phone carelessly on the bed to cup her husband’s cheeks and keep their lip lock intact. She falls back on the bed, which he follows without breaking the kiss, his legs on each side of her hips and his hands by her head.

Beatrice hums happily against his mouth, this time wrapping her arms around his neck instead of keeping her hands on his face, feeling the soft fabric of the white suit of his uniform touching her skin, “You look really good.” she whispers on his lips when they break the kiss for a second to breathe.

“Thank you.” he says, pecking her mouth twice, “I knew you’d enjoy it.”

“I always do.” Beatrice kisses him one last time, the soft smacking finalizing their greeting since he hovered above her with his eyes glinting, “Hi.”

“Hi, gorgeous…I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too, Roos. Did you meet the two?”

Rooster stares at her for a second, trying to figure out what she means until his eyebrows relax, “Oh! You mean Jack and Ellie? Yeah, they were kinda scared of me when I walked in, so Jolene was the only one that greeted me really…but it’s okay, they’ll warm up to me.” he pauses, his eyes dragging down her body until he reaches her stomach and he inhales sharply, “So.”

“So…”

“...can I–” she smiles up at him, dropping her hands from his neck to roll down the elastic of her shorts a few centimeters below her navel, where the obvious little bump was. Bradley scooted away from her, sitting on his knees on the bed and stared as if he couldn’t believe it. There it was, “...can I touch you?”

“Of course Roos,” she says sweetly, “It’s our baby.”

He almost cried then and there, but he sniffled with a weak laugh, clearing his throat and carefully placing his huge hand on top of the baby bump. There was no movement, obviously, but the fact he was touching it was already…was already making him feel things.

“...wow.”

“Yeah…”

“Wow, Bea,” he laughs softly, still caressing the little bump, “Baby, we…there’s a baby in there.” she nods with a soft smile,”...holy shit.”

“Yeah, that was pretty much everyone’s vocabulary when they found out about it too.” she giggles, sitting up a bit more, which makes the shirt fall back down over the bump and cover from his view. He didn’t seem to mind, he was still smiling with his eyes glossed over,  “Well, since you are here…I suppose what I can do is call the clinic and schedule an ultrasound.” she shrugs with a small grin, “If you want to.”

“Of course I do.” Rooster says immediately, almost giving her a look of surprise, “I’d want nothing more,gorgeous…Bea we are going to have a baby.” he sits back down on the bed, Beatrice scooting closer to him so they are both seated next to each other, “...fuck,babe…can you believe that?”

“Sometimes I can’t.” she says with a gentle shrug, “Sometimes it doesn’t feel real and yet.”

“Yet there it is.”

Beatrice nods and both of them share a gentle laugh, keeping their gazes locked until he leans down to touch their foreheads together. Both of them close their eyes and just enjoy the simple yet meaningful touch, just to feel each other, know that he got home safe and sound, happy to be back and happy to meet his future child, “You know.” he begins with his eyes still closed and their foreheads touching, “Everyone is making bets about us again.”

“Oh?”

“Well, partially about us. They are trying to guess the baby’s gender.’ he chuckles, peeking one eye open, “They really needed my opinion on it.”

Beatrice opens her own eyes to look at him, “And what did you choose?”

“Well…I have a feeling it’ll be a girl.” he says, “I don’t know, I could be wrong of course…but I guess it’ll be a girl. Can we check it when we get the ultrasound?”

“Of course, you don’t want to do a gender reveal party?” 

He makes a face that only proves that much like her, he didn’t care for such things, “People do that shit and create forest fires. Not that we will, but fuck it’s so…I don’t know, it’s not my thing. If we find out the gender that’s great, I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

Beatrice looked at him like he held the sun in his hands, because someone like him was so amazingly rare and she was so glad he was her husband. “I agree with that.” she smiles, “Are you hungry? I can prepare us some lunch. I…wait, it's still early morning…so breakfast?”

“I can make us something.” he says once he stands to his feet, holding out his hand to her to take, “Maybe I want to pamper you.”

“Brad,” she says sweetly with her cheeks reddening, “You are the one who just came back.”

“And you are the one carrying our child.” he smirks, kissing the tip of her nose, “Oh, before I forget.” he lets go of her hand to walk to the futon by the end of their bed, picking up a bouquet of flowers that she hadn’t noticed before, holding it out for her, “I noticed I hadn’t given you flowers in a while.” Beatrice’s cheeks turn even darker as she grabs the bouquet, bringing it to her nose, “And I had to make up for it.”

Beatrice could only laugh with the flowers still up to her nose, gently brushing her fingers on the light blue colored paper that cocooned them,”You won’t see me complaining.” she tells him, leaning up to kiss his lips, “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.I’m just going to change” he then shrugs off his jacket, folding it in his arms before putting it on the armchair in the corner of the room, “And then I’ll prepare us breakfast.”

“You don’t have to.” she says softly, her eyes following the way the fabric stretched on his shoulders and biceps without any shame, “We can do it together,Roos. I know you want to pamper me but I can do something.”

He disappears into the bathroom and she only hears his voice reply, “You can keep me company, looking all pretty.” she scoffs a laugh, shaking her head with amusement, “I swear it won’t be a problem, gorgeous. I know what you are thinking.”

“I just don’t want you to overwork yourself.”

He immediately stops what he’s doing and steps out, wearing only the gray sweatpants he often wore and his feet bare. Was it possible he got even more defined? Because Beatrice was sure if possible she could grate hard parmesan on his abs, “Bea,” he props his hands on his sharp hips, giving her a look, “You don’t have to worry about that, pretty girl. I’m not going to do anything that will cause a strain on my back or something similar.”

“I know…but…”

He tsks with a smile, “Fuck you are too cute, c’mere.” he spreads his arms for her to step between them after placing flowers on the bed so they wouldn’t be squished between the two of them. When she was between his arms, her cheek touching his chest, his lips dropped to the top of her head, “You know what you are? An actual angel.” her cheeks warmed up and he could feel it against his skin, “But you don’t have to worry, I swear I’m fine.” He is now, he thinks, the events from December still somewhat fresh in his mind.

But he wouldn’t share them with her…yet.

Beatrice turns her head to face him, her chin between his pecs and her lip jutted just enough, “Are you sure?”

Bradley’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing under her lip then over the soft plump flesh, “Baby, there’s no doubt when it involves you.” he whispers, kissing her forehead, “Now, come on, what do you feel like having for breakfast?” he lets her go just enough for her to grab the flowers and then return to his arms, “Pancakes?”

“Well, you do like pancakes.”

“Did you have any cravings yet?”

Beatrice hums as they walk down the stairs together, “I’ve been eating some pickles and…uh…I think those tiny pretzels that taste like cardboard.” she explains, disentangling from his arm once inside the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase, “Oh, and bananas.” 

“Bananas?”

“They are painfully good.” she says, gently opening the paper and filling a terracotta vase with water, “And I’ve never been too much into bananas, I mean I like them but I’ve been having them mushed up with toast and with some yogurt. With honey.” her eyes look at nothing for a second, “I think that was my breakfast most days.”

Rooster smiles, opening the cabinets above the sink to grab what he needed, “Then banana pancakes it is.” he coos, stepping behind Beatrice to grab the flour jar above her head, then pecking her cheek, muttering an almost pained, “Fuck I love you so much.” against her skin, pulling back with a loud smacking sound.

Beatrice blushes as she looks to where he is, busying himself by preparing them breakfast. Hard to think he got back just hours ago…and had time to grab flowers and surprise her. She noticed that Jolene and the puppies were outside, Eleanor casually peeking her head in to look at the new face inside the house then scurrying away, “I can make you some coffee.”

“No, it’s fine, gorgeous,I can do that.” 

Beatrice blinks, “Then I’ll just stay nearby.” she says, walking over to the empty counter and pushing herself up to sit on top, “And be your helping hand.” Rooster chuckles, a soft huff of air comes out of his nose when he looks toward Bea by the corner of his eyes, “If you want.”

“Of course I do.” he says quickly, “You think I’m going to let you go now that I’m back? Hell no.” 

“Well, what do you want me to do then?” she lowers her eyes to the ingredients he set on the counter next to her, “I can cut the bananas if you want.”

“You know what you could do,” he gestures with the spoon, “And that will, really help me?” Beatrice looks at him expectantly, wondering why he was being so dramatic “You can kiss me for moral support.” ah. “That would help me focus.”

Her eyes narrow playfully, “...so, I kiss you for moral support for making pancakes.” he nods, the cheeky smile on his face widening, “...I think that’s fair.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader

[foxywrites]

FIC WRITING REVIEW 2023

Thank you @loki-is-my-kink-awakening for coming up with this!

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

(I have tweaked a couple of things after having seen them changed on other post's, if you would like to find the original tag you can find it on the creators blog.)

Words and Fic's

269897 words published in 2023

18 fics worked on

6 completed fics

most productive month: January with 73831 words

monthly words average: 22491 words

Words Written per Fandom

Bungou Stray Dogs - 104548 words

All for the Game Series - 164688 words

Natsume Yuujinchou - 29762 words

Eleceed - 661 words

Top 5 Pairings

Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard [7]

Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) [7]

The Foxes | Palmetto State Foxes Member(s) & Neil Josten [7]

Katelyn/Aaron Minyard [6]

Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau [5]

Top 5 by Kudos

dancing with the ghost of you [kudos:961]

something worth remembering [kudos: 719]

to burn for your love [kudos: 451]

make it through another night [kudos: 451]

can't tell a truth until you learn to lie [kudos: 347]

Top 5 by Hits

dancing with the ghost of you [hits: 34695]

something worth remembering [hits: 13325]

teach me how to be a fox [hits: 8217]

make it through another night [hits: 7157]

Misfortune of the fortunate [hits: 6728]

Fandom Events in 2023

For this part, I'm only adding in Bingo's that I was able to get a bingo/blackout for (along with those that were only for the year of 2023)

Bingo's

[10/25] AFG Dark Bingo - bingo

[25/25] July Break Bingo 2023 - black out

[09/09] July Break Mini Bingo 2023 - black out

[04/09] Halloween Horror Bingo (01) - bingo

[05/25] Spies Bingo 2023 - O

Writing Challenge's

[11/31] AU-gust Writing Challenge 2023

[05/31] AI-less Whumptober 2023

[04/31] Angstober 2023

[05/31] Flufftober 2023

Upcoming Plans (link to my excel sheet)

Fic's I'm hoping to finish writing/complete next year:

[AFTG] to hunt a rabbit (from 'blood stained bare teeth' series)

[AFTG] peach tea & hot chocolate nights (sequel to 'Little Oasis', Andrew and Neil meet as kids AU)

[AFTG] the fox trap (the menu au)

[AFTG] devils come out when the sun goes down (halloween fic)

[BSD] at least the war is over (manga CH 109 aftermath)

Fic's that I'd abandoned at some point, which I'm hoping to return to this year:

[AFTG] Misfortune of the Fortunate

[AFTG] Teach me How to be a Fox

[AFTG] The Fox Trap

I have a couple of things that I want to write next to these, however I am aware that it will be hard to do so with everything going on IRL, so I'm setting these as my main goals for now (might make a poll at some point this year to choose what i might work on next)

Writing Reflection

This year was a crazy writing year, if I'm being completely honest, and in many different ways. The biggest change for me this year in terms of writing was discovering the JBBingo, along with AUgust, they really both inspired and pushed me to create more writing content and I loved taking a part in both of them.

The goal of this year is to pretty much finish write and share more than I have done this year, so hopefully 250000~ or more words this time around.

Tagging: @42donotpanic, @stevethehousewife, @wishfulstargazer, @mrs-steve-harrington, @voiceoffenrisulfr, @urisarang

#writing challenge #2023 recap #2023 in review #fanfic #bungou stray dogs #all for the game #alternate universe #writing #writers of ao3 #tumblr tag game #writers on tumblr #is it obvious that I don't know how to tag? #yuna's masterlist #foxywrites masterlists #foxy's masterlist #2023 #aftg #bsd #neil josten #andrew minyard

[creative-caramel-coffee]

PROMPTS LIST

Hi welcome to my prompts list, if you have an idea for a fic or would like one of these prompts in a fic let me know the number or letter or both in a request (feel free to use more than one) and I (if your request fits the guidelines) will write it at some point. If you are requesting you don’t have to use a prompt but feel free too. :)

please also look at my do’s and don’ts before requesting :)

DIALOGUE PROMPTS

1. “honey i know you really don’t want to but can you please take your medicine?”

2. “give me that, did you even look at the right dose before you started chugging cold medicine love?”

3. “if you can walk from here to there you can come with.”

4. “dont speak honey i can tell it hurts.”

5. “love you act like a child when your sick”

6. “honey no your not gross, you cant help being sick sweetheart.”

7. “no honey it happens i don’t blame you please don’t cry my sweet.”

8. “what are you doing out of bed my love?”

9. “look at me, hold my hands. breathe with me love your ok.”

10. “do you think you can eat something or will you be sick again my love?”

11. “honey you must be boiling from the inside out here come to bed and let me look at that fever of yours.”

12. “love we need to check your temperature again. i know i know you hate it.”

13. “your looking a bit pale love are you feeling alright, come here.”

14. “let me feel your forehead, no buts, come here.”

15. “this cant be new, love how long have you felt sick?”

16. “i don’t like the sound of that cough, let me hear your breathing my sweet.”

17. “no. you need to be in bed now come here ill carry you back.”

18. “can you walk?”

19. “is it your head?”

20. “if this happens again I’m taking you to the sickbay.”

21. “ready your obviously not capable of walking I’m going to carry you. ready? one two three up!.”

22. “slow sips my love or you’ll be sick again?”

23. “have you taken anything for it?”

24. “come on babe just a nibble its all I’m asking you need to eat something.”

25. “oh love you must feel awful.”

26. “let me see that right now, how did you even do this?”

27. “that sounds like a nasty cold, do you need anything?”

28. “honey you cant come with you can barely walk.”

29. “here put this over your eyes and sleep.”

30. “i got you a cold wash cloth and some pain medicine to help.”

31. “aww love come here.”

32. “is that the grim reaper?”

33. “did you get your period love.”

34. “its ok we can get the blood out.”

35. “honey can you come with me, your bleeding through your shorts.”

36. “come have a bath and i’ll get you something for the cramps.”

37. “oh love its that time of the month isn’t it sweets.”

38. “its ok, a little period blood wont kill me.”

39. “honey the boys haven’t noticed yet but the blood on your suit isn’t from the mission, aunt flo came.”

40. “Love we need to get you changed.”

41. “Um I think im gonna-“

42. “I’ll admit im not feeling so hot.”

43. “Honey you’ve lost your colour sweets you very pale.”

44. “Honey we need to get you checked out”

45. “It’s alright love I know you didn’t mean to.”

46. “Its ok you’ll be alright. Im right here.”

47. “I need you to tell me if your going to be sick again.”

48. “That doesn’t sound good.”

49. “Don’t lie to me I know somethings wrong.”

50. “How about you tell me the truth this time.”

51. “If the next thing you say is a lie I will leave you here by yourself.”

52. “Sweets you feel like a furnace I need you to let me check your temp.”

53. “Please let me look after you.”

54. “At this rate your going to collapse.”

55. “Stop running yourself into the ground.”

56. “I’ll always be here to pick up the pieces. Always.”

57. “One hug then you need to let me get up so i can look after you.”

58. “Darling come here, you clearly need cuddles.”

59. “I don’t care if your sick nothing will stop me hugging you love.”

60. “If you don’t come back to bed I won’t give you cuddles for a week.”

61. “How dare you threaten my cuddles. That’s low even for you.”

Scenarios

a. spontaneous collapse

b. acts like a child when sick

c. difficult when sick

d. insists their ok

e. cant speak so uses sign language

f. suffers in silence

g. hiding illness / injury

h. throwing up in bed

i. throwing up on someone

j. throwing up on the floor

k. bleeding on sheets (period)

l. bleeding through suit / clothes (period)

m. hiding cramps

n. hiding that their on their period

o. shaking hands

p. shaking body

q. fever + sweaty

r. needs to be carried everywhere

s. needy when sick

t. wandering around confused when sick

u. confused when sick

v. waking up confused.

w. Forehead kisses

x. Nightmare

y. Fever dreams

z. Cant walk properly

AA. Broken bones

AB. forehead kisses

AC. sniffles

#prompts #masterlist #fics #fic prompts #fic blog #marvel #the avengers #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha romanov #sicfic #wanda marvel #natasha romaoff #wandanat x reader #wandanat comfort #comfort #hurt / comfort #natasha comfort #wanda comfort #wanda sicfic #wandanat sick #wanda x r #natasha x r #avengers x r #sick reader #hurt reader #period fics #comfort fics #marvel sicfic #marvel comfort

[ephemeral-winter]

what in the entire fuck

many many wot s2e7 spoilers ahead

young!moiraine would never just fucking visit cairhien with her lover be so fucking for real

jumpsuit good tho. i like the jumpsuit

the way they wrote the gitara scene is weird and overly didactic ??? i get that they need to compress like all of new spring into about 30 seconds but idk guys

why the hell did they bring the seat all the way to cairhien??? like why can't she sit on a normal store brand throne

that said i do appreciate the firm planting with the knees far apart none of this prissy legs crossed at the ankle shit for siuan that's a dyke for sure

siuan stroking moiraine's face put me in an early grave

madeleine madden emmy when!!!!!

i get it i get it they have no time to actually talk but like moiraine's facial twitches while siuan is all like omg can you imagine if a forsaken got to him lmaooooooo

i can't decide if siuan naming moiraine's fatal sin as pride is like true or not like sure there is some pridefulness there but it's way overridden by a crazy amount of 'i'm going down with him' and like i sorta think that seizing on pride is a misreading of siuan's understanding of moiraine??? or maybe i've been too into the fic where they have a psychic bond because anvaere's later explanation of moiraine's righteousness seems so much more correct

they are being soooo incautious about having important convos where other people can hear them like why did lan and moiraine have the suicide convo in that anteroom where the guards are and also like all your senses are heightened when you're holding the one power so like leane should totally be able to overhear moiraine and rand discussing going to falme idk guys

however i like how right before lan asks moiraine about suicide she's rubbing her fingers together and trying to calm herself. ms pike what do you know

it was cunty of lanfear to walk through the foregate like that i do have to give her credit for that

MADELEINE MADDEN EMMY WHEN!!!!!!

i love verin idc how they handle her later arc i fucking love verin

siuan channeling in the fur coat? yeah. let's think about that

the entire waygate scene. where to even start

1. arching and moaning.

2. i simply do not believe that moiraine was shielded for six months and then was immediately strong enough to open a waygate. girl needs the magical equivalent of physical therapy

3. the visual of the gate opening and closing is. hm. unbelievably sexual?

4. siuan in the fur coat. again. much to think about

5. hate to think that siuan is so angry with moiraine she can't hear that moiraine is not able to lie and like totally misses the part where moiraine is as close to begging as she'll ever get in public. that hurts my heart fr fr

6. arching and moaning. again

7. so rand when shielded is always crouching in on himself. neat little dumai's well/box arc foreshadowing i must say

8. i feel kinda crazy that lan heads for the waygate before moiraine. like i get that they are not so in lockstep as they once were but HE knows about siuan. and they just silently agree to leave her there? where is the lan who is the main shipper of siuraine

9. the dual trickle of blood. the 'moiraine please.' i'm going to cry for the next year

10. how are they gonna come back from this

11. fuck

#help guys i'm so messed up about this we got a new spring kiss but at what cost. but at what cost #i'm going to pass out this entire episode was just me doing that monkey side eye gif over and over #wot on prime spoilers #wot book spoilers #wot s2

[asinglemagpie]

15 questions and 15 people, tagged by @gainux! Thank you, I love doing these too!

1: Are you named after anyone? So I actually found out extremely recently (in the last few months) that yes, I am. I am named after a friend of my maternal grandfather that my mum met once… but she was beautiful and smart and articulate, and that's what she wanted for me, and that was my name from that moment on.

Won't lie, two thoughts occurred: 1, wow I do not live up to my namesake LOL, and 2, did she potentially name me after one of my grandad's many affairs without knowing? (The first I said, the second I kept to myself but OOF…)

2: When was the last time you cried? Approximately 40 minutes ago because there's like 3 songs in the Hazbin Hotel soundtrack that make me cry, including the Finale XDDD

3: Do you have kids? Nope!

4: What sport do you play/have played? I played one netball match, and one basketball tournament - I was more of a dancer.

5: Do you use sarcasm? Constantly. I can't be sarcastic about it because then it sounds like lying lmao.

6: What is the first thing you notice about people? Probably their height. I'm a bit of a wee thing, so I'm always looking up at people XDD

7: What's your eye color? I'm honestly not entirely sure! I lean towards 'hazel' these days.

8: Scary movies or happy endings? Both - sometimes I need everyone to die, sometimes I need everyone to live.

9: Any talents? I can't dance any more, but I can still sing.

10: Where were you born? Cambridge. Closest I got to that university… XDD

11: What are your hobbies? I write again now! That takes up a lot of time between fic, novel, and RPing. I listen to music, loudly, and sing along whether it sounds good or not lol. I watch a lot of TV and movies, there's always something on in the background, and I like to try and watch a lot of non-English things too. I want to try going back to practising playing the flute again, and get back to reading… I've really fallen off the wagon with reading. There's a billion crafts I want to do and I'm set up for most of them, I just have to DO them which… yeah, we all know how that goes XDD

12: Do you have any pets? Sadly my only pets are my Furblets.

13: How tall are you? I am 5'4.

14: Favourite subject in school? Drama. I loved it, and did well in it. I started having severe memory issues in 6th Form which was very obvious when I suddenly couldn't remember scripts from one minute to the next, but through that and a whole host of other hardships I still managed to come out of it with top grades.

15: Dream job? Best selling author whose series gets turned into an award winning TV show or movie series with a ton of mech possibilities? Lottery winner?! In all seriousness… something I can support myself, my mum, and my partner with.

Tagging: @caspercryptid @heaventhing @lozzykins @neon-slime @rainbowd00dles @teawiththegods @theoi-crow @tonguetiedsmeghead @walnutgoat ... and anyone else who sees this and wants a go <3

#Dancing with the Pied Piper #Don't know why the tags are refusing to work half way through so hopefully you'll all see this XD