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kaleldobrev · 4 months ago

Text

Yes Ma’am

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Plus!Size Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben, Hughie Campbell, William Butcher & Annie January

Summary: Macho Man Ben never thought he’d ever take orders from a woman; but now he does so with a smile (aka Ben is whipped and he doesn’t care)

Original Request: @spncupcake | I need a Soldier Boy &/or Dean fic where reader is plus sized + gives his attitude right back to him. He only ever listens to her & agrees with her every time. Basically just a whipped little puppy. Everyone teases him, but he doesn’t care because his girl/reader is all he needs 😭 I guess kinda like he’s an asshole to everyone but her kinda vibes 🥵

Not so subtly asking if @kaleldobrev could do this ? 🥺

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Ben, Cursing (13x), Derogatory Language (by Ben), Slightly Offensive Language (by Ben), Whipped!Soldier Boy, Domestic!Ben

Authors Note: Hopefully I got everyone tagged that wanted to be. If I missed you, I'm sorry! I'm working on re-doing the way my tag list is | I hope this came out okay! ♡ | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

A Few Years Ago…

“We need someone to watch Mister Radioactive over here,” Butcher said to you and Hughie. And almost as if it was second nature, Hughie whipped out his hands into a rock, paper, scissors stance; eyes on you, because he knew for a fact that it was either going to be you or him to watch Ben.

You turned your head slightly, watching Ben drinking out of a Seven merch cup, as he watched an old movie of his on the television; scoffing every few seconds every time a member of Payback appeared on screen.

“Can’t believe these are the bozos that gave me up to the Commies. They can’t even make their fucking cues,” he scoffed, mumbling to himself.

Turning back, you looked at Hughie and placed your hand on top of his, pushing it away. “I can do it. No need for rock, paper, scissors,” you said.

Both Butcher and Hughie looked at you with slight confusion. “Really?” The two men said at the same time, exchanging glances before ultimately landing on you.

“Are you at least going to take some Temp V just in case?” Hughie asked; but Butcher didn’t seem amused by his suggestion, as he gave him a very dirty, displeased look as if to say, ‘That is the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said.’ “He could kill you.”

“I doubt that he would. I mean, look at him. He’s literally just watching one of his old cheesy movies. ‘Sides, I’m the only person he remotely listens to anyway,” your tone slightly smug in nature. But your comment caused Butcher to scoff. “What?”

“Sweetheart, he doesn’t listen to anyone,” he stated, not even trying to be covert.

You raised a brow. “Oh really?” You crossed your arms and smirked. “Hey Ben? Can you turn down the volume a bit? It’s a little loud,” you said, without even looking at him.

In a matter of seconds, Butcher and Hughie watched Ben pick up the remote that was next to him on the armrest as he slowly started turning down the volume. “Better?” He asked, unfazed.

“Yes, thank you,” you smiled.

Butcher scoffed. “I’m sure he’d turn it down if me or Hughie asked him to.”

“Then why don’t you give it a try to try and prove me wrong.” Your voice was smug, and your smirk remained, as you knew for an absolute fact that Ben wouldn’t listen to either one of them.

Butcher smacked Hughie, and pointed to Ben. “Um…hey, can you…can you turn that down?” Hughie asked nervously.

“Fuck off,” was all Ben said to Hughie’s request. His comment caused Butcher to roll his eyes.

“Fine. But don’t come crying to one of us when he ain’t listenin’ to ya,” Butcher smirked.

Present Day…

“Ben?” You asked, trying your best to reach the plate from the top shelf, but it was just out of your reach.

“Yeah?” Ben asked, faintly in the distance.

“Need your help! Can’t reach!” You yelled back.

Within a few seconds you heard Ben come walking into the kitchen from behind you; a faint scoff could be heard from his lips. “You’re so fucking short,” he commented. You turned around, and glared at him; and he knew exactly what that look from you meant. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, not meaning his apology whatsoever. “Now scoot,” his tone a little demanding.

You moved over, and watched him effortlessly reach the plate from the top shelf, handing it to you with the biggest smirk on his face. As you went to reach for the plate, he snatched it quickly away. “What do you say?” He smirked; his comment causing your eyes to roll.

“Thank you,” you said, your tone matching his sorry. Again, you reached for the plate, and yet, he still kept it from your reach. “Oh, how could I ever forget!?” Your voice now sarcastic, with a mix of annoyance. You went onto your tippy toes to the best of your ability, and he leaned down a bit to reach your lips, where you were able to give him a quick peck.

“That’s better,” he winked, handing you the plate.

“Remember, Annie and Hughie are coming over later,” you reminded. You didn’t have to look in Ben’s direction to know how much he hated the idea of the two of them coming over. “It’ll be fun.”

“Fun for you, torture for me,” he said, walking back into the living room and plopping onto the couch.

“They aren’t that bad Ben,” you said as you went to lean in the doorway that was between the kitchen and the living room. “‘Sides, I thought the three of you were finally finding some common ground?”

Ben scoffed. “Common ground my ass,” he mumbled. “I hate them, and they hate me.”

“They don’t hate you Ben, you just think that they do,” you tried to reassure. And your reassurance was genuine as you knew that neither Annie or Hughie hated Ben. Yes, maybe they disliked him a bit cause he was still a Grade A asshole to anyone but you, but they do what friends do and have supported yours and Ben’s relationship because they know how happy not only you are, but Ben is even if he didn’t show it in front of them.

Ben didn’t even answer you, he just simply scoffed again. “Can you still do the ribs for tonight please? I mean I can do the grill, but I much prefer when you make them,” you said sweetly.

Ben rolled his eyes, sighing. “Yes, I can still do the fucking ribs.”

A Few Hours Later…

“Are you sure that it’s too late to cancel?” Hughie asked, as him and Annie shut their car doors at the exact same time.

“Yes, we promised Y/N weeks ago that we’d come over,” Annie said. “Besides, I even made my Nana’s pecan pie for the occasion because Y/N mentioned that Ben likes it.”

“If you’re hoping for brownie points with Solider Boy, I’m not sure pie is going to do it. Maybe we should have brought some expired Aspirin or coke from CIA lockup,” Hughie said half joking.

“Very funny,” Annie said very unamused by her fiancés comment. “I’m sure tonight won’t be that bad.”

“At least one of us is positive,” Hughie replied.

There was a knock at the door, and your face lit up with excitement. “Ben? Can you grab the door please? I’m taking the pie out of the oven!” You called out as you started opening up the oven door.

“Sure thing!” Ben called out in a weirdly good mood sounding voice that threw you off. Yes you’ve heard him in a good mood before (he’s basically always in a good mood whenever you were around), but you were surprised just now because Annie and Hughie weren’t particularly his favorite people (or so he says). But you shrugged it off, happy that maybe he changed his mind about them.

As soon as Ben opened the door, his once calm and cheerful mood diminished once he saw Annie and Hughie at the door. “Lite Brite. Pussy. Welcome,” Ben said, in the most monotone voice he could muster up.

“I brought my Nana’s pecan pie,” Annie smiled, showing Ben the foil wrapped container. “Heard it was your favorite.”

“Y/N already made one,” Ben scoffed. Annie lowered the container in a kind of defeated way before she looked over at Hughie.

“Thanks for having us.” Hughie tried his best to sound genuine, but he knew that Ben would be able to hear right through it.

“If it were up to me, neither one of you would be here.” Ben’s tone continued to be monotone.

“I’m gonna go see if Y/N needs any help,” Annie offered. But before she could even enter the doorway, Ben stopped her, and took the pie from her hands, giving her a small nod. Was that…approval? Annie thought. No, I must be delusional, she thought again.

As Annie managed to get past Ben after her pie was taken from her, it was Hughie’s turn to try and get inside, but Ben blocked the way. “Sorry, I don’t have a pie to offer you,” Hughie chuckled.

Ben fake laughed, and placed his hand on Hughie’s shoulder. “No problem, pal,” emphasizing the word as he gave his shoulder a slight squeeze.

“Ow,” Hughie mumbled.

“Fucking pussy,” Ben mumbled, before letting Hughie come into the house.

“So, what did he call you two this time?” You asked, grabbing two white claws from the fridge for you and Annie.

“Lite Brite and Pussy,” she slightly chuckled. “Not really creative.”

“Ben’s not really the creative type,” you laughed back.

“So, tell me, have you and Hughie set a wedding date yet?” You asked, and Annie smiled.

“So, we haven’t set a wedding date yet,” Hughie said, his voice nervous as he watched Ben start flipping through channels trying to find something to watch.

“And why the fuck are you telling me?” Ben asked, finally deciding on a hockey game to watch.

“I uh, I figured Y/N mentioned it to you,” his voice still nervous.

“She did,” was all Ben said, taking a sip of beer.

“Jesus Christ, it’s like talking to a brick wall,” Hughie mumbled to himself. “I’m gonna go see Y/N and Annie.”

“Alright lady boy,” Ben mumbled not so subtly.

“I’m O for two,” Hughie said as he walked into the kitchen where you and Annie were.

“What was the other one?” You asked.

“Lady Boy,” Hughie said, his voice weirdly calm.

“Well, that’s a new one,” you remarked, taking a sip of your white claw. “Ben?”

“What?” Ben asked, clearly annoyed.

“Did you call Hughie, Lady Boy?” You asked.

“Yeah, what about it? Is he crying about it already?” Ben asked, still unfazed; but you could hear a slight smirk on his lips.

“No, was just wondering,” you said.

That’s when Ben sighed. Because the only reason he knew you were asking, was because he somehow did or said something he wasn’t supposed to. But it wasn’t his fault that his girlfriend’s friend always took things the wrong way and didn’t have a sense of humor. “Sorry Puss—Hughie,” Ben said, saying Hughie’s name through gritted teeth.

After Ben apologized (fakely), you turned your attention back to Hughie. “I think that’s the best one you’re gonna get.”

“Pain in my fucking ass,” Ben mumbled.

“What did you say?” You asked, although you heard him loud and clear, as his mumbling and whispering really weren’t low.

“I said, you’re a pain in my fucking ass,” Ben said at normal volume.

You cleared your throat before you spoke. “Come again?” Your tone in full sass mode.

“Fucking Christ,” he mumbled. “I said I love you.”

“I love you too!” You smirked, finishing your white claw.

“Butcher was right. Soldier Boy really is whipped,” Hughie said with slight amusement in his voice.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Ben asked, his tone aggressive as he looked over at Hughie. Hughie’s demeanor now changed, and it resembled that of a scared puppy.

“N-nothing. I said nothing,” he answered quickly and nervously.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Ben smirked, giving him a quick nod before looking back at the hockey game. “Four and zero, fucking unbelievable.”

“You didn’t say anything wrong. I really do have him wrapped around my finger,” you whispered to Hughie, even though you knew Ben was still able to hear you.

If I missed you, my apologies! I was either not able to tag you because the tumblr username is no longer the one you use when you submitted a tag form, or you do not have your mentions on. Please make sure you’re able to be tagged so you don’t miss anything you’d like to be tagged on! 💙 I also in the process of re-doing my tag list, so stay tuned for that!

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #the boys imagine #the boys one shot #the boys oneshot #ben x you #ben x reader #reader insert #female reader #the boys amazon

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bring-forth-his-sac · 16 days ago

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World of Trouble

Summary: Your Halloween costume leads to a punishment from the man himself...

Pairing: Saviors! Negan x f!reader

Tags: !NSFW! spanking, fingering, p in v penetration, (consensual) punishment sex, Negan being a cocky asshole, orgasm denial, praise kink, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, little bit of cum play ?

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: ok this fic is choppy, janky and just all over the place. I wrote it in a day and a half so it was a complete rush cause I want to get it out for Halloween so yeah, pls be kind

You thought it was funny.

After all, don’t people need a joke in times like this? Isn’t everything bleak enough? That was your reasoning when the idea initially popped into your head for the perfect apocalyptic Halloween costume.

Despite Negan being a man who loves to tell a joke, no matter how risqué or inappropriate the timing, you weren’t sure how Negan would react if he's the butt of one.

Ever since late August, you had been wavering on the idea. Some nights you were adamant that your choice in Halloween costume would end in you being bound to the fence alongside the dead.

In the midst of your internal debate, while out on a run, you came across the ultimate sign that set aside your indecision.

A leather jacket.

It wasn’t an exact replica of Negan’s and it hung loosely on your frame but it was the push you needed. You already had a white t-shirt in your limited closet and you’d pay the few points needed for some black jeans.

A red scarf was harder to come across but most definitely a necessary piece. Ever since the leaves began to fall off the trees surrounding the Sanctuary, Negan’s red scarf has been making an appearance, tucked neatly in by the collar of his leather jacket.

You had to be inventive, scavenging an old sweater and cutting it up to create a makeshift scarf that at least remotely resembled the original.

And finally, the pièce de résistance. Your trusty companion. Your very own, bootleg Lucille.

Thankfully barbed wire wasn’t the problem. In the Sanctuary, something like that can be found stored in at least half of the supply closets, hoarded away for the fence or in case the real Lucille needs a quick spruce up.

The real issue was a baseball bat. It wasn’t as if the Saviors were regularly raiding school gyms or stadiums, and so there was hardly any sports equipment for you to choose from.

It was a struggle and eventually, you ended up with a hockey stick that some Savior decided to put into the armoury.

It wasn’t Lucille but hell, it’d have to do.

Everything was ready. You even found some long expired brown eyeshadow and decided to dab some on the bottom of your face so it looks like you have a beard. And so your look was complete, possibly the very first costume to ever exist of your fearsome leader.

And how long did it last?

40 minutes. It didn’t even take a full hour of you strutting around before word got back to Negan.

When you imagined the impending confrontation, you assumed it would be a lieutenant telling you off as Negan spewed insults over a walkie talkie.

It’s only now, when you hear the low grating noise of Lucille dragging along the ground, growing nearer and nearer, do you realise you won’t be getting off so easily.

Slowly turning, you bring your hockey stick decorated in barbed wire up to your shoulder, mirroring a pose you’ve seen him do plenty of times.

“Well, ho-ly shit! I don’t know whether I should be smug or freaked the fuck out!” he declares, his gaze wandering down your outfit “you’ve really out done yourself this time, doll”.

You shrug, hoping that if you seem casual about this then he’ll let it slide. “It’s Halloween” you say bluntly, hoping that’s the only excuse you need.

Some Saviors linger around you both, a mixture of excitement and anticipation radiating from them at your Negan costume and Negan's ambiguous reaction.

“And you thought the creepiest thing you could dress up as is me?” he narrows his eyes at you, subconsciously mimicking your own pose as he lifts Lucille up onto his shoulder.

You open your mouth to respond but no words come out, a slight sense of dread setting in. A beat of tense silence hangs in the air, thick and charged, as if the whole Sanctuary is holding its breath.

A deep chuckle cuts through the silence as Negan clasps a hand on your free shoulder.

“Well, fuck me, I am honored!” he beams “you even smeared some shit on your face so ya look like you got a beard! Now that’s the kind of dedication I like to see from you sorry fucks!”.

He steps away from you, letting his hand drop off of your shoulder as he raises his voice, making sure the others hear.

Relief washes over you. You could feel the tension draining from your muscles at his approval.

“I love it,” Negan says, his voice growing serious again “but Lucille? Now Lucille here isn’t a big fan of copy cats and that limp dick excuse of a Lucille you got hanging over your shoulder? That shit just makes her see red”.

Any warmth in Negan’s eyes fade. His brows knit together as his mouth becomes a hard line, replacing any sense of humor. “And she thinks this is worthy of a punishment” he adds.

Fuck.

Negan doesn’t wait around for your reaction, turning on his heels as he barks for you to follow. You do so hesitantly, knowing there’s nowhere to run and that this is something you’ll unfortunately have to face head on.

This isn’t the first time you’ve done something daring while living in the Sanctuary. Although, this is the first time you’ve seen him genuinely annoyed.

Usually Negan has always appreciated your boldness, especially when most of the Sanctuary’s residents are too scared to even look him in the eye. In the past, you’ve tried to poke and prod at Negan’s authority by complaining about sanitary products costing points or the lack of blankets available to the workers during Winter.

Grimacing to yourself as you follow behind him, you wonder if you’ve finally taken it too far.

Marching up the flights of stairs to his private quarters, you try to ignore the confused looks of others as two Negan's pass them by.

Despite knowing you’re in for a world of trouble, a small smirk tugs at your lips, glad to have brought some sense of silly excitement to the Sanctuary.

You try not to show your shock as he brings you to his bedroom, making sure the door is locked behind you. You only take a few steps into the room before you stop and simply loiter there, watching as Negan sets Lucille down by the doorway to the ensuite before going inside.

“Y’know there are no actual rules about impersonating so I don’t think you have the grounds to punish me” you attempt to defend yourself, setting your fake Lucille against the wall.

“Talking back won’t help your case,” Negan calls out.

You scoff out a laugh as you get distracted by his room. A part of you can’t help but wonder why a man like Negan would want half the things that litter the area: trophies from other people’s past glory, a vase, a houseplant.

“Yeah well, it’s just some fun, it’s—“ suddenly Negan’s there, right next to you with his gloved hand too close for comfort.

He cups your face, squishing your cheeks together as his other hand brings a wet cloth to your face.

“And get that shit off your face,” he does the job for you “my beard ain’t that fuckin’ bad”.

You stay quiet, not wanting the embarrassment of trying to speak with your cheeks squished and a cloth rubbing at your face.

Once he’s satisfied your face is clean, he simply drops the cloth to the floor. Negan looks down at your attire “Well hot damn, good news is my style is incredibly sexy… but no matter how hot you look, thanks to me, you know I can’t let your shit slide anymore, sweetheart”.

You frown, a challenging look in your eyes.

“I’m serious, you’re pissing off too many Saviors with the shit you pull,” he yanks off his scarf, letting it land on the couch “and now, with this, you’ve forced my hand”.

Next, Negan takes off his leather jacket, inadvertently showing off some tattoos as he delicately places it on the back of his armchair.

“You know I gotta give you some kinda punishment… but that don’t mean it can’t be enjoyable for the both of us” he continues.

The smirk on his face says it all.

And just like that, it all makes sense. Of course he would bring you up to his bedroom and not to the cells when this is what he has in mind.

You shrug, some of your spirit returning in the form of a playful smirk “What? You gonna spank me?”.

“You want me to?” He unbuckles his belt and slowly pulls it through the loops of his jeans, the material hissing as it moves.

Negan has never been a man to bluff.

You try to act nonchalant but you can feel your cheeks heating up. “Maybe,” you play it coy “will you iron off half my face even if I say yes?”.

Now it’s Negan’s turn to shrug. “That depends, this a trick or a treat?” he asks.

Normally you’re not this bold. Maybe leather jackets give people unlimited confidence? That seems to be the only solution as you walk over to his couch and place both hands on the armrest. You bend forward just enough for Negan to see your intent.

You glance back over your shoulder, your eyelids at half mast as you throw him a sultry look. Negan keeps his eyes locked on to yours, his boots heavy on the floorboards as he walks up behind you.

The leather of his glove growls as he places his hand on the centre of your back and pushes you down further.

There’s no point in ignoring how your pussy throbs as he makes sure your head is against the couch cushions and your ass is up in the air, the armrest providing the perfect support.

“That's what I thought“ Negan praises, his hand slowly making its way down to your ass.

“And I thought I was getting punished, not a yoga class” you goad.

Negan doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t even wait or let the anticipation of his response build. He goes straight for it, smacking your backside hard enough to leave a handprint.

A gasp leaves your lips, the sensation more stingy than it is painful. You have little time to prepare yourself as Negan wraps his belt around his hand.

“Just relax, baby,” he instructs softly, his tone in complete contradiction to his actions “and be grateful I’m letting ya keep your jeans on… for now”.

Despite your thin layer of clothes acting as a barrier, the belt bites into your flesh. The sound of the belt whistles through the air before meeting your ass with a sharp crack. He does it over and over again, alternating between cheeks.

You hiss at the sudden heat, your body clenching as the pain morphs into a dark, intoxicating pleasure.

“Well, damn!” Negan exclaims approvingly, momentarily stopping “you’re taking this like a trooper, ain’t ya?”.

He pauses and you wonder if he’s waiting for a response. You swallow, your throat dry from the amount of gasps you’ve let out in such a short span of time.

But before you can answer, you feel it. Not the belt. Not his hand delivering another slap. This time, it’s him; proud and unabashed as he brings his clothed crotch right against your ass.

Suddenly, the belt didn’t seem too hard.

“I think it’s about time I see my work of art” he declares, pressing his hips forward to make sure you feel his entrapped boner.

For a man so brutal, Negan’s touch is gentle as his fingers glide around the waistband of your jeans. He lets his touch linger there for a few moments, waiting for your sign of approval.

You’re well aware of Negan’s ego and how he wants to know just how badly you need him. He yearns to see that raw desire. As much as you want to banter back at him again, your brain fogs with need and you push back against him, your sore ass rubbing against his bulge.

He responses with a grunt as his hands slowly leave your waistband, too distracted to continue. Negan has something else in mind as he gives a slight tug of your hair, gesturing for you to stand upright.

You don’t even have time to turn to face him, your ass still snug against the tent in his pants as he roughly pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

His hand fists your hair, holding you in place as he devours you. Desperately trying to keep up, your breaths come out in short, sharp pants between desperate kisses.

Negan keeps his hand in your hair, using it to manoeuvre you away from his couch and over to the bed. The only time he takes his hands off of you is when the back of your legs hit against the soft bedsheets.

The second you’re able, you take off your leather jacket, watching Negan follow suit as he begins shedding his clothes.

Your jeans are the worst to take off, the rough denim scratching it’s way across your sensitive backside as you quickly discard it. Once you get to your bra and panties, you stop, wanting Negan to take off the rest.

Negan doesn’t have the same sense of modesty as you, not stopping until he’s completely bare. Sitting back on the bed, you bite your lower lip and shamelessly dart your eyes across his body.

The dark curls that cover his chest, the tattoos that scatter across his body, the happy trail of body hair that lead you lower, to where he stands erect and proud.

You gulp.

Negan joins you, kneeling on the bed in front of your body as he studies you. With a hum, he shakes his head. “No, this won’t do,” he tuts.

As the words hit you, a wave of self-consciousness washes over you. Whatever excitement that was evident in your face slowly drops away and you do nothing but blink up at him, waiting for Negan to continue.

“Yeah, I’m gonna want to fuck you in the leather jacket,” he elaborates “now that would be hot as all hell and I ain’t letting that jacket go to waste on my bedroom floor”.

You rolls your eyes as you let out a breath. “You fucking asshole” you huff, well aware that Negan was being vague on purpose just to toy with you.

He chuckles, unable to deny your accusation. “Careful baby, you start insulting me like that and you’ll be getting another spankin” he threatens playfully, though you know he’s being serious.

Negan leans down, almost hovering over you as his hands gently touch your bra straps.

“But first, you got more layers to shed” Negan lets each strap fall to your arms before his fingers deftly work the clasp of your bra, the metal giving way easily.

Without looking where it lands, Negan lets your bra drop to the side. You feel utterly exposed to his hungry gaze, watching as he drinks in the sight of you.

A groan leaves him as he reaches out, his calloused hands gently cupping the weight of your tits. His thumbs brush over your pert nipples, making your squirm at the contact.

“You going to play with my titties all day?” You question, hoping to spur him into action.

“It’s a punishment, doll,” he reminds you, bending to the side to pick up your leather jacket “if I decide all I want to do is stare and watch you finger that sweet little pussy till it’s raw, then that’s what’ll happen”.

“And is that what you want?” You ask, trying to maintain any self control you have. Part of you would actually apologize for your costume if it means getting his dick closer to your pussy.

“Nah, I want you to sit back and really think about what you did,” giving the jacket a quick shake, he spreads it out over your shoulder “think you can do that for me, darlin?”.

Making sure the jacket is secure over your shoulders, you adjust it to make sure your tits are still in view. “I guess I could try” you reply in a flirtatious tone, scooting back against the pillows.

“On the bright side, even though this is a punishment, I’m still a fuckin’ gentleman,” he says with a proud grin.

You're quick to notice how his hands inch up past your thighs and towards your panties. Hooking a finger underneath them, Negan gives a slight tug “So I’m gonna need to loosen you up before I fuck you senseless”.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you gently lift your hips. That cocky smile never leaves his face as Negan slowly drags your panties down your legs. In an instant, they’re gone from view and end up on the floor alongside the rest of your clothes.

Negan’s eyes lock onto your core, unable to help himself as he reaches out and parts your folds.

“Fuck, you’re that wet already?” he says it like a question despite the answer being on his fingertips. You bite your lip as his fingers brush against your wet, swollen flesh.

With a groan, Negan plunges two fingers into your warmth, scissoring them apart to stretch you out. You moan out, your back arching as he sets a steady pace.

“Y-yes,” you gasp out when the pad of his thumb finds your clit “keep doing that!”.

Negan curls his fingers upward, targeting your g-spot. The look on his face is like a kid at Christmas, completely elated to have his fingers deep in your pussy.

He adds a third finger, pumping them in and out of you, listening to your moans and gasps to gauge how close you are. Leaning down, Negan meets your arched body and nips at your breasts.

His mouth brushes against your skin as he tuts “C’mon now, don’t tell me you’re about to cum already!”.

You nod frantically, hands clutching at the bedsheets “Yeah, yeah I’m ready, I’m gonna—“.

Negan chuckles darkly and before you can reach your high, his fingers slow their pace.

“Oh, I don't know about that," he pulls his fingers out abruptly and gives your clit a light tap with them "you haven't earned that privilege yet, baby".

Your mind is in a haze as he licks his fingers clean, tasting you. It takes a few moments for your brain to compute what he’s denying you.

“I…” you begin but you trail off, your throbbing pussy begging for release “Negan, please, I— I get it, ok?”.

His smile softens slightly and if anything, it only makes you more wet. “I know you get it now,” he agrees, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek “maybe, sweetheart, just maybe… if you beg nice enough, I'll let you cum on my cock instead”.

You take his words as a challenge. Throwing out all sense of pride, you babble on “Please! Y-yeah I just, I need you inside of me, please Negan, I’ll be good”.

Every word goes straight to his dick.

Negan takes a moment to truly savour the sight of you begging and writhing under him, knowing this is some top notch jerking material he can use at a later date.

"Now that’s what I like to hear" he praises, positioning himself between your thighs. He grips your hips and thrusts into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely.

Even though the sudden stretch and fullness makes you feel breathless, you practically shout out “Negan!".

He pauses but only for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. “Shhhhhhh,” he coos, his tone bordering on patronising “best be quiet before you wake up the wives, I’d hate to make those gals jealous”.

With a low groan, Negan begins to move, pulling back almost to the point of withdrawal before slamming into you once more. The leather jacket beneath you squeaks, each thrust pushing you further up the bed.

You can feel every inch of him, the primal yearning to cum on his cock sounding more and more appealing. Negan’s chest heaves as he labors over you, his body glistening as he works up a fine sheen of sweat.

He doesn’t know where to look. His eyes dart everywhere, trying to take in each part of your body. Negan watches your face, the desperation to cum etched into each expression. Of course he watches your tits too, seeing them jiggle with each thrust he gives you.

But his favourite part to watch is how well you‘re taking him. To see how your pussy welcomes each inch, letting him go flush against you every single time.

Bringing his gaze back up to your eyes, he pistons into you. “You’re close, I can feel it” he says with a clenched jaw, trying to hold off.

“Please!” is the first word out your mouth followed quickly by a gasp as Negan goes for your clit again. His thumb rubs firm circles around the sensitive nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

You inner walls clench desperately around his cock and before you know it, everything crashes around you as you finally cum.

It’s as if your whole world blurs together and all you can focus on is his cock deep inside of you.

Your pussy spasms violently around him, your vision whiting out as you moan loudly. Negan wants nothing more than to feel your sweet pussy throb around him but he knows he can’t hold off any longer.

He quickly pulls out and thrusts into his hand to finish. His cock glistens with your juices before Negan unloads a thick load right onto your tits.

You both pant, taking a brief moment to come down from your respective highs.

“Look at those beautiful titties,” Negan breaks the silence, admiring his handiwork “just when I thought they couldn’t look any better”.

Gently bringing a hand up, you run your finger along one of the lines he’s painted. “If I knew this is what the punishment would be, I would’ve pissed you off a lot sooner” you say breathlessly.

Negan hums as he flops down beside you, his eyes glued to how your fingertips play with his load.

“Maybe you should’ve,” he replies “or maybe this is a sign that we should have some fun like this more often”.

You bite back your smile “Maybe it’s both?”.

“But y’know I can’t really just be going around screwing anybody and everybody,” he continues, making you pause, unsure where this is going “it’s bad for the image, y’know?”.

Your expression doesn’t change.

Negan takes in your confused look, trying to put the pieces together for you. “I mean, I don’t think the wives would appreciate me screwing around… unless, of course, I was screwing around with another wife…”.

“Oh”.

That’s all you feel as though you can say. A part of you immediately tries to rationalise this, trying to convince yourself that you’ve got the wrong end of the stick here.

“Goddamn, did I really fuck you that hard?” Negan laughs “I’m asking you to marry me, baby, you should be jumping for joy right now!”.

You sigh, bringing your non-sticky hand up to your face “Negan…”.

“Negan, yes?”.

“Negan, I’m covered in your jizz and you’re seriously asking me this?! Now?!?” You exclaim.

He stops for a moment, taking in your words. “Huh, ok, good point,” Negan grunts as he gets up, giving you a great view of his ass “I’ll go get some towels and you think about it, yeah?”.

Before you have time to reply, he’s walking into his ensuite “And I want an answer when I come back!”. He disappears into the adjoined room, turning on the light.

You lay back, allowing the pillows to practically consume you. The thought passes through your mind if only for a split second.

It wouldn’t be that bad to be yet another wife, would it? All you’d have to do is look pretty and have good sex… and never socialise with anyone else… and only be seen as one of his wives and nothing more.

You close your eyes, hoping that would prolong the impending decision.

Letting out a long sigh, you curse “Fuck”.

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starlazergazer · 3 months ago

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Hii!! I’m the anon who asked if u had an ao3, and I’m sooo glad I can have all your fics in one PDF thank u so much 🙏 I can quickly pressed the download button so fast. youre genuinely one of my fav anakin fic writers in the entire galaxy (far far away). Your writing is so so gorgeous and complex, and it just feels soooo real—how each person has their own depth—so much thought is put into every word and how it’s framed.

I just read your latest fic, Separated, and my god I SOBBED. It was SO good. I was listening to sad songs too, to get more into the mood, and it made me cry even harder. My heart just dropped out of my body when Reader and Anakin were saying their last words towards each other through the call: they were so emotionally close but so physically far from each other. How they were imagining a different life where everything was more softer and happier, that living handle their souls more gently, when in reality one was killing her, and the other was walking towards a path of destruction? AARAAGGH IM GOING CRAZY WITH YOUR WRITING (COMPLIMENT). I can’t wait to see the second part and how you plan to execute the follow up.

Btw. Do you have any tips on how you can finish writing stories? You write so much and it’s all such high quality. How do you do it? I have so many ideas but I never actually commit to it. I have this idea where Reader is also on par with Anakin’s skills as a mechanic except she gets extreme motion sickness, which I think would be so funny considering she’s good at building ships but not flying them.

(I really hope you’re okay with me posting this I know your first message was sent anonymously so I wasn’t sure but if you’re not definitely just let me know and I’ll get rid of it) but Oh my god I sobbed reading this 😭. Genuinely this is the biggest compliment I’ve ever received and it means so much to me I’m positively overflowing right now and a little upset I cannot find the words to properly express how much this means to me. I already go back through some of the messages Ive received periodically as a little pick-me-up but I already know this one will be revisited weekly it just means so much to me the way you’ve picked up on everything I’ve tried so hard to do well in my writing making the dialog and situations and characters feel real and complex and messy ugghhhhh I love you so much this means the world 🫶🏻

As far as writing tips for finishing stories I have many cause it’s definitely something I struggle with all the time lol! I’d say the biggest thing for me is to focus on just getting something down rather than finishing a certain work. At any one time I have four or five word documents open on my computer because I’m regularly only writing a scene or a piece of dialog or literally just an idea. A lot of the time I get halfway through something and decide I hate it but keep it there anyways. What usually ends up happening though is I take ideas or scenes from all the different pieces and drop them into my “main story” if I think they fit well so it all works out in the end but just writing (even if it’s not related even remotely to what you feel like you “should” write) is ultimately what’s important.

I also regularly skip around when I’m writing. I find I like writing the big plot points or bits of dialogue the most so a lot of the time I write those first then fill in the gaps later. Finishing a story is a lot less daunting when you already have all of the big pieces in place and just need a few tiny bridges to bring everything together.

Lastly I would say again just get something down on the paper. I’ve written a lot of really bad stuff lol and sometimes I can feel it while I’m writing it and there’s a part of me that wants to just delete it and start over but having the ideas down on the page is always 100% better than having nothing and editing the crap out of what you already have is way easier than starting over from scratch.

Anyways that’s probably way more than what you wanted lol but I really hope it helps! I think just remember this is supposed to be fun, if you’re getting frustration or exasperation out of it more than anything totally feel free to take a step back. I’m known to go MIA for months at a time cause I have periods where I just am not feeling it and forcing myself through it does nothing for anyone.

Seriously though thank you thank you thank you I’m so absolutely overjoyed that you like my writing enough to want to keep it in any form it means the absolute world to me! Also good luck with your potential fic! Tag me if/when you finish it! I’ve been wanting to do a mechanic reader fic forever but never gotten far enough into actually planning it out to start writing anything so I’d love to see your take on it

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augentrust · 2 months ago

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hi i just spent the past two hours literally sobbing while reading your cr fics and like i am not someone who usually cries at shit like this but holy fuck did those — esp the jester one — just hit me where i live in the most absolutely wrecking way. so yeah thanks for completely monopolizing this night i needed to use for Productive Things and instead leaving me unexpectedly weeping until my head hurts bc my god was A Wisdom Without Face or Name one of the most quietly devastating things i’ve read in a long time (not that quietly, considering i was sobbing the whole way thru, but still). you just, like, opened floodgates i didn’t even know i had w that one. christ

ANYWAYS! you write the nein beautifully (and i am very picky about my nein, especially my caleb, and he’s written so well in both!). do you have any recs for other good fics to look out for — either m9 in general or shadowgast specific? not necessarily emotionally destroying ones LMAO, just any in general; you write them so well that i definitely trust your taste!! thank u again for ur (devastating) contributions to cr literature they have not gone unappreciated

anon i am handing you tissues and a warm beverage of your choice. thank you for the kind words, and i hope the cry was a cathartic one

i read fairly widely when it comes to critical role, but i’ll leave a few recommendations below the cut of fics that influenced how i thought about the nein — and shadowgast in particular — back when i was starting out. my writing today wouldn't be the same without them

“memory in double exposure” by hanap

this is the fic i look to when i think of jester and essek — it honors her depth in a way that i really fell in love with, and i come back to it often

“the other things that make us” by saturdaysky

one of my first shadowgast cornerstones. it does a remarkable job of exploring what is left unsaid, and certain scenes still make my heart drop (in the best way) even after many, many rereads

“remote times and places and ultimate causes” by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi)

this is the shadowgast dynamic to me personally. the fact that it transposes so well to another universe is a testament to their characterizations, and i adore it a little more every time i come back to it

“Hard Mouth” by road_rhythm

an angst heavyweight for shadowgast, and a fic i still look towards for an incredible example of blending story and dnd mechanics

“only code it knows is rote survival” by Chrome

such a well-written look into essek and the nein, and a wonderful exploration of love and caution and trust and the way that all of these intersect

“hold me down, hold me true” by lakrisrot (enheduane)

a really lovely subversion of expectation, and the careful exploration of letting yourself want things. i reflect on the conversations in this fic often, and it still influences how i think the wizards talk about love

this hardly scratches the surface of the many wonderful fics i’ve had the pleasure of reading in this fandom, but i hope it can point you in the direction of something you haven’t read before, or at least inspire a reread. have a wonderful day/night, anon!

#this list could have easily been twice as long #but i'm afraid it's late here and i am supposed to be packing #this was a very nice distraction though #there's a lot of talent in this fandom and i stand on the shoulders of giants #cr fanfic

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lwh-writing · 5 months ago

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OK so you mentioned in your fic you wouldn't mind getting asks breaking down what we think is the lie? So I thought I'd do that.

I think Ellie being the youngest member of WI is a lie.

This took me a while to decide because honestly so much of the Lore I can see fitting.

Ultimately I went with Ellie because I think she's more of a wandering soul, and being a member of WI would probably lead to her having less chance to wander- she'd be more rooted and I honestly think her roots are more with Danny, and that she wouldn't want to spend the time needed doing an office job.

Even if she barely came in, she'd still have obligations she'd have to be in on time for and to answer emails or work remotely or whatever and I just don't see her doing that? It feels like it'd be too restrictive.

Also I think she couldn't be bothered to ask Lady Gotham to let her in, but if she could he bothered she'd probably annoy Gotham to the point of either pseudo adoption or utter hate and I'm not sure which.

I think she might masquerade as a WI person at some point but I think she'd be pretending to be someone else rather than actually attending and working herself (eg I can see her pretending to be Tim to cause chaos)

Anyways, love your story! I'm curious to see if I'm right or not (only time will tell)

Thank you for the lovely analysis!

You are right that Ellie is much more a free spirit (ha!) than someone who would let themselves be grounded by responsibility. And you're also very right that any roots Ellie has are more often tied to people than places.

That said, there are a few things you could be overlooking, such as the fact that Wayne Industries is an international company and would offer more than plenty of opportunities to travel for work.

Either way, good reasoning, and we'll find out if you're right in time!

#from the inbox #unconquerable souls #thank you again for the meta!

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kmackatie · 2 years ago

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fanfic end of year: 15, 21, 23, and/or 24 😊

Thanks for the asks!

(fanfic end of year asks)

15. something you learned this year

community and sharing my writing with friends is the one sure-fire way I'll actually complete it. it's also been a very big struggle and part of an almost, reassessment of how I write when I also lost that community feeling part-way through this year due to life and a series of things happening. I am almost through that, and at a point of actually hopefully posting a new work in the next few weeks, but it's been an interesting reflection.

21. most memorable comment/review

Oh, I had few lovely ongoing commenters on the breath before the phrase that brought me a lot of joy. I used to look out for their comments when they would pop up week by week, and it was a true delight to have those little connections. I am still also in awe of these two (1) (2) incredible pieces of art that @quietalight created, I may have cried slightly at both.

23. fics you wanted to write but didn’t

I had plans to write a follow up to the space in between this year that never eventuated, but it has a document and is on my wip list, so hopefully it will happen in the new year

24. favorite fic you read this year

Oh gosh, this is so hard. I'm going to do a mini rec list and list a couple. at the violet hour by @mllekurtz / theknittingjedi an incredible fic written for a mutual friend's birthday that I have not stopped thinking about since I had the joy of beta-reading it. It's a coming together fic exploring a long-distance connection and how it might eventuate, and well worth a read if you have not already read it. (also honourable shoutout to remote times and places and ultimate causes as well which I'm still yelling about) heir to the devil's fortune by @essektheylyss / essektheylyss not technically finished yet (but due to be soon!), this fic is about an essek-in-hiding as a tiefling using the transmogrification spell and a whole bunch of political intrigue and soap opera plotlines that will keep you guess (and reading) for a long while please don't bite by @lakrisrot / lakrisrot mind the tags on it, but this is such a sharp, pointed look at essek filled with messy communication (or lack thereof) (and check out all of tuva's fics, they are a delight) Paper, Ink by aeli_kindara this hit the spot of slow-build Aeor fics and a very realistic look at how the shadowgast relationship could have developed after the end of the campaign. highly recommend checking out! and one, non-sg rec that I didn't read for the first time this year but one I consistently come back to between the motion and the act by @fahye / fahye this is a captive price fanfic built around a bachelor au / unreal au, and I have been thinking about it ever since I read it years ago. as I said, I reread this one frequently

#burningdarkfire #fanfic end of year asks #ask katie #katie replies #my writing #shadowgast #fanfic #cr: fanfic #fic rec #I am sure there are many other incredible fics I am forgetting that I read #I should make a ref list of my 2022 favourites

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insaneoldme · 3 years ago

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Can you rec buddie fics? Pretty please?

OMG it's my time to shine, bitches!!!

Sorry if I went a little nuts, but this fandom has some of the best writers I've ever seen. I have 186 Buddie fics bookmarked in my AO3,

I'll link here if you are interested in taking a look cause if I put them all here it would be too long. Also, I tried to show here some fics I very rarely see recced, and a little bit o the classics. This fandom has some very underrated authors, everyone in my bookmarks is worth taking a look really.

Please take a look at the warnings before reading, enjoy!!!

I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends to This) by morganofthefairies (Rated E )

Buck and Eddie had always been unconventional. Neither of them gave it much thought – they were just them. Buck and Eddie - partners, best friends, co-parents – just as entangled in each other’s lives as any actual couple in the 118.

Or, the story of how Buck and Eddie went about their relationship in entirely the wrong order.

My Heart's Been Borrowed by ElvenSorceress (Rated E)

aka the one where Taylor gives Buck his ultimate fantasy and uncovers far more than either of them expected, forcing him to confront his long held feelings for Eddie

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire by HMSLusitania (Rated E)

Buck 1.0 fathered a child and Buck 4.0 comes into custody.

Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) (Rated E)

Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck."

Keep It On by R_E_R6 (Rated E)

When Eddie walks in on Buck, bent over in nothing but a hoodie, their plans for the night immediately change. Buck's outfit though? Well, Eddie requests that it stays the same...for reasons.

Heart of Flowers / Heart of Gold by ElvenSorceress (Rated T)

Buck nearly loses everything and Eddie has to follow his heart

hungry for your love by evcndiaz (Rated G)

prompt: "who’s gonna write a fanfic where chris is not cooperating with buck and eddie accidentally says “listen to your dad”?"

or; breadsticks are a metaphor for love and boning

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests (Rated M)

A glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

when things fall into place by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Eddie asks Buck to move in with them during lockdown to help look after Christopher, which leads to certain unresolved feelings being resolved.

Carbon Date Me, Excavate Me by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

Evan "Buck" Buckley has made a name for himself as the independent bad boy of archaeology. At least, until Professor Eddie Diaz shows up with his fedora and good looks and starts beating Buck to the punch more often than not.

Buck hates his stupid six-pack covered guts.

Except for how... he might not.

Objects in the Mirror by SevenSoulmates (Rated E)

The voice had always been around, Eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where Eddie just tuned it out.

But then the voice started speaking directly to him. Conversing like he was a whole person standing right in front of him. Like he could see what was happening around Eddie.

Eddie shook his head. No one was talking to him, and Eddie most certainly was not talking back.

He wouldn’t talk to the boy in his head ever again. There was no boy in his head.

ripples all the way down by iriswests (Rated M)

christopher partakes in some parent trapping

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings (Rated M)

Evan Buckley is lost.

It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door.

Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name.

Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Relationship Advice from Complete Strangers Online by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Hi, I’ve never made a Reddit post before and I’m not 100% sure what I’m doing but I need advice and can’t ask anyone in my real life. So, I [30M] have this best friend [34M]…

Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico."

And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?"

In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

fireflies where my caution should be by littlesnowpea (Rated M)

“You never talk about your parents,” Eddie says, which is not even remotely what Buck expects Eddie to say. He frowns, tilts his head, but it isn’t a question, as evidenced by Eddie charging on. “I never asked because I figured it was your business, but the look on your face any time they’re brought up tells me you don’t get along.”

Buck swallows hard, against a lump in his throat. His parents? Eddie’s right, he never talks about them, for good reason. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, not sure what he’s even going to say.

Eddie takes it as the answer Buck is trying to make it out to be. He squeezes Buck’s wrist again, takes a deep breath, like he’s on a call with someone who’s panicking. Buck finds his breathing slowing to match Eddie’s, and Eddie nods as Buck gets it under control.

“There are people on the porch,” Eddie says, voice even. “Saying they want to meet their grandchild.”

Asked, Offered, Given, (He's) Taken by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

People like to flirt with Buck on calls. It kind of makes Buck uncomfortable.

And that makes Eddie frustrated.

I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea.

Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right?

There's no way this could possibly go wrong.

Memorable by JessicaMDawn (Rated T)

Six times Buck got recognized by people he saved during the tsunami, and how his team realized he was a hero.

All Bets are Off by NobodyKnows_U (Not Rated)

Or, the five times the firefam realized Buck and Eddie were in love, and the one-time Eddie finally did something about it.

fire on fire by extasiswings (Rated T)

Or: Buck and Eddie get in the habit of sharing a bed while living together during quarantine. It's platonic until it isn't.

Better Together by Randomfandombloggs09 (Not Rated)

5 times Eddie sees Buck wearing his last name and 1 time its not just his

Daddy and Pops by EdithBlake (Rated M)

When Christopher calls Buck 'Pops' things get a bit confusing. Buck and Eddie have a talk with Christopher that ends up with both of them being even more confused by how right it sounds.

the meaning of the words you see by florenceandthemachine (Rated E)

unknown sender: Hi!

unknown sender: Just wanted to say thanks for letting me buy you a drink, and for your number. Sorry I had to run.

unknown sender: I’m Eddie by the way.

sent: hey um

sent: i don’t want 2 be this guy but

sent: i think u mayb put the wrong # in ur phone

the dream you wish will come true by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Christopher Diaz cannot understand why his father would want to date his former teacher when Evan Buckley is right there.

vienna waits for you by mottainai (Not Rated)

Eddie doesn't deserve a soulmate.

Work Husband by hideeho (Rated T)

“What...what have you done with Buck?” Eddie is going to kill him for messing with his phone. No, that’s too extreme. He’s going to maim him. Just a little.

“Check under H,” Chim offers helpfully, shooting a look over to Hen with a smirk.

Why the hell would he be under—

Then he sees it.

Husband.

Bad Neighbors by firstdegreefangirl (Rated E)

Eddie's new neighbors are keeping him up all night. He calls on his best friend for a little taste of their own medicine.

Cross the Line by Sirencalls (Rated E)

Eddie laughs, short and quiet and almost to himself. “No. If you want to learn, then I’m gonna be the one to teach you.”

Buck is pretty sure his brain stops working. “What? Why?”

Eddie turns to look at him and steps closer, their chests only a few inches apart. “Because there are people out there who will take advantage of how naïve you are. They’ll hurt you, and I won’t.” Eddie’s eyes are so intense that Buck doesn’t have any choice but to believe him. “If you want someone to do this for you, to—to dominate you, it has to be me. I don’t trust anyone else to do it right.”

pretty in pink by dykeevans (Rated E)

Buck forgets that he and Eddie made plans to hang out until Eddie shows up and Buck's in the middle of laundry day.

His laundry day outfit consists of a small pink crop top and grey sweatpants.

Eddie loses his damn mind. Me too, though, me too.

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies (Rated G)

“Didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

Buck just laughs. Like, honest to god giggles. Eddie is stuck fighting off doubly massive waves of butterflies and confusion, all while Buck just gazes down at him.

“That’s cute,” he hears Buck mumble, just before climbing into the truck, calling Eddie after him.

-or, everyone knows eddie is dating buck except for eddie, literally.

Something Old, Something New by dumbhuman (Rated E)

“Damn, I love weddings!” Buck’s face lit up as he closed the door.

If asked later, Eddie wouldn’t have been able to explain what came over him in that moment to make him ask the question. Or, at least, he wouldn’t have wanted to explain. The exhaustion was an easy excuse, but he knew deep down that it wasn’t a real one.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

one of the few things by thatnerdemryn (Rated G)

five times that Eddie tells someone else that Buck is Christopher's legal guardian plus one time he finally tells Buck.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Til I Saw Your Face by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

things we shouldn't do by Ingu (Rated T)

“Why is everybody taking my relationship status so personally? Can’t I be fine with being single?” Buck said.

“Hey, you don’t have to say yes, be sad and alone if that’s what you want,” Josh replied. “But, I’m just saying. I’ve seen photos and this guy is volcanic levels of hot. Also, single dad, super cute kid. Saves lives for a living like you. I think you should give it a go.”

(the one where Buck and Eddie accidentally get set up on a blind date with each other, and everything snowballs from there)

Keeping It In The Family by Wolves_of_Innistrad (Rated T)

A young man shows up at the firehouse looking for Buck. Turns out Javier was a Bartender with Buck in Mexico. He’s back in LA, looking to reconnect and very flirty. Cue Eddie realizing Buck is not as straight as he thought.

kiss me (like your ex is in the room) by rebeccaofsbfarm (Rated E)

Eddie Diaz gets drunk and protective and signs up for a fake double date to get back at his friend's ex.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania (Rated M)

An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is… missing presumed.

While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home

All my Buddie AO3 bookmarks

As I said this fandom has some very talented people, some of my favorite Authors's Tumblrs below, I recommend all the things they wrote and their blogs are very good.

@elvensorceress, @hmslusitania, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @extasiswings

For gifs:

@arrenemris, @skylessnights (very lovely AU gifsets)

@from-nova(good gifs & content)

For Podfics: @mistmarauder everything she ever read is amazing, her podfics are high quality and she has a very lovely voice and her presence calms me down lol I recommend it

I'm sorry there are a lot more people but I'm kinda in a rush haha most of the people I follow are amazing, but the ones I mentioned here are enough to get you started or entertained for a while.

Buddie fics are amazing, this pairing has spoiled me so much, everyone I met because of it is nice and so active and talented.

Sorry mutuals if I forgot someone!

I hope I helped Anon, have fun!

(Tell me if any link is wrong please, thanks)

#buddie #buddie recs #recs #fic recs #911 on fox #911fox #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #ao3

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alphadaddyderek · 3 years ago

Text

Dude, just get out! (we both live here dumbass!) (sterek fic, smut, college au)

Stiles was initially excited to go to college. The freedom aspect of it in particular is what Stiles was the most excited about. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his dad, of course, he does. He didn’t mind living with him, he liked seeing him on a daily basis. He’s all Stiles has. Well, Stiles has Scott, but Scott is attending university in Arizona of all places. Meanwhile, Stiles is going to NYU, so, there’s not a lot of opportunities to see Scott or his father in person.

Not to fret though! Stiles was ready like Freddy to meet new people and, hopefully, make new friends along the way. That’s what college is all about. Supposedly, Stiles wouldn’t know but if all the movies are to be believed then that’s what college is all about.

He and his dad spent days driving up to NYU and then spent hours moving Stiles’ belongings into his off-campus apartment and unpacking. Stiles got a full-ride —thank god— so there’s extra money for him to be able to live in an actual, nice apartment instead of the dorms. His roommate was nowhere to be seen at the time, but that was fine with Stiles. He’d have plenty of opportunities to get to know him. Stiles’ dad left to stay in a hotel for the night because there was no way he was starting the trek back to Beacon Hills this late in the day. So, Stiles was left to his own devices in his new apartment.

Well, he was for about twenty minutes, then his roommate came back and...he’s kind of a dick.

He has a resting bitch face and he hardly likes to talk. Stiles doesn’t know if it’s because the guy doesn’t like him or if he’s just the quiet type. He’s starting to think that the guy doesn’t like him because every time Stiles starts talking he looks annoyed. The dick’s name is Derek and coincidentally, he also goes to NYU. He did tell Stiles his major, but wouldn’t tell Stiles what his favorite color was, which is just plain rude.

Anyway, Stiles isn’t going to let this Debbie downer ruin his college experience, no way!

Stiles decides the best thing to do is to just ignore him. Which is hard to do because the guy takes up so much space, like, he’s actually huge. And he always seems to be in the apartment when Stiles comes back from classes. Which is weird because, dude, don’t you have classes to go to? Nonetheless, he’s always there which means Stiles has to see him all the time and Derek can continue being an asswipe for no reason.

For example, Stiles sometimes forgets to wash the dishes —sue him!— and Derek will chew him out for it. Stiles didn’t know Derek was such a neat freak, but now that he knows he’ll leave more things laying around because Stiles can also be a dick when he wants to be. Maybe Derek should learn to be more personable, then Stiles wouldn’t have to go out of his character by doing such petty things. They’ve only been living together for about a week and a half and there’s already a turf battle going on. Stiles isn’t sure who’s going to win this battle, however, the sight of Derek tripping over one of Stiles’ shoes and the subsequent curse that flies out of his mouth makes Stiles not even care in the end.

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

After about a month, it's way more than just a battle. The turf battle has evolved into a war and now, no one is safe.

Derek continues being yucky and Stiles continues to do things to intentionally annoy him, except, now Derek is doing things to annoy Stiles. Like, eating all of Stiles’ Pop-Tarts or, and this is a cruel one, flushing the toilet while Stiles is in the shower. Unfortunately for Stiles, Derek buys gross ass healthy food for himself, and Stiles couldn’t choke down that food to save his life. So, what can one do to even the playing field?

Derek is sitting on the couch in the living room, watching some show about underwater caves. Stiles normally wouldn’t stick around because, despite what Derek might think, Stiles really doesn’t enjoy being talked down to by an abnormally grumpy man. This time though, Stiles sits down beside him. He can see Derek watching him from the corner of his eye, probably waiting to see what Stiles is going to do. Stiles likes to instill fear in Derek. Normally he acts like Stiles is nothing more than a bug he wants to squish under his overly expensive boot, but now? He’s worried. He should be. Stiles is going to pull out his ultimate weapon.

“So, whatcha watchin’?” Stiles asks, plastering a smile onto his face.

Derek gives him a suspicious look. “Why do you want to know?”

Stiles shrugs, smile still present. “I’m curious. This show seems interesting.”

Derek gives him an incredulous eyebrow raise, which is super insulting. Derek thinks all Stiles watches is Harry Potter, Star Wars, and superhero movies. Which is just wrong. But that’s okay. Stiles thinks all Derek watches are documentaries about how to be a functioning human in society, which, newsflash Derek, still needs working on.

A few minutes go by before Stiles decides to speak again. “So, you haven’t told me about your family.”

“That’s intentional.”

Stiles laughs. Derek thinks he can scare Stiles into leaving him alone. Unfortunately for Derek, Stiles has zero self-preservation skills.

“Come on Derek. We’re roommates. Don’t you want us to get along?”

Derek didn’t dignify that with a response —rude!— so Stiles speaks again.

“My dad is the sheriff of my hometown. Been that way for as long as I can remember. My best friend, his name is Scott, wants to be a vet. He goes to The University of Arizona. After that he’s not sure where he’ll go to get his DVM but he’s open to anything.”

Derek turns the volume up on the tv and Stiles bites his lip to stifle his laughter.

Ah, Derek. That won’t help.

“At first I was kinda skeptical about Scott becoming a vet. I mean, he’s a puppy himself, and I love him to death, but sometimes he’s ditzy. He’s a ditzy brunette. But after working at Deaton’s, Deaton is the town vet, for years he’s proved me wrong,” Stiles risks a glance at Derek and he’s scowling so hard Stiles is kind of afraid it’ll get stuck that way forever. “He and his girlfriend, Allison, are kind of having issues with long-distance but they’re high school sweethearts so I’m confident that they’ll work through it. They’re so cute together that it’s actually kinda nauseating. Like, sometimes their sappiness makes me sick to my stomach. I wonder when they’ll get ma-”

Derek abruptly stands up and walks out the room, slamming and locking his bedroom door, as if Stiles is the boogeyman who he’s trying to keep out.

Stiles snickers and grabs the remote to change the channel. Derek gets annoyed when Stiles talks, well, he shouldn’t have started this war then (it doesn’t matter that technically Stiles started it). Stiles has weaponized his ability to talk people’s ears off. So, Derek better watch out.

Hopefully, Derek won’t murder Stiles in his sleep.

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

Okay, so, Stiles thinks maybe this whole turf war thing is getting out of hand.

It’s been a total of 3 and a half months since they’ve been living together and Derek and Stiles are on edge around each other 24/7. Stiles has to shower around eleven o’clock at night so that Derek won’t burn him alive by flushing the toilet. Derek doesn’t have access to Stiles’ snacks anymore because Stiles hid them in the back of his closet. Derek stays in his room all day just so that Stiles won't have any opportunities to talk to him. They’re at an impasse, but Stiles has a feeling that the worst has yet to come.

A really bad feeling.

Stiles comes back from a particularly grueling day of classes to see Derek sitting on the couch...and he’s smirking.

That doesn’t bode well for Stiles.

“Hello, Stiles.”

“Uh, hey dude. Why do you look like a supervillain?”

“‘Cause I have a surprise for you.”

Yeah, that definitely didn’t sound good.

“Actually, I am a-okay. I really don’t need the surprise. I appreciate it though,” Stiles tries to make his way towards his room but Derek keeps talking.

“I normally don’t snoop through people’s things, it’s really not in my character, but after you left to go out last night, I heard some weird noises coming from your room. I was trying to ignore it at first, but after a while I went to see what it was. I was going to mention it this morning but you woke up before I did and by the time I had woken up you were already in class.”

Stiles had stopped in his tracks but he still hasn’t turned around to face Derek, because if Derek is going where Stiles thinks he’s going, Stiles is going to need to be able to book it into his bedroom as soon as possible.

Derek didn’t seem too perturbed by Stiles’ silence since he continues with his story. “Imagine my surprise when I found out that it was your laptop making that noise. Now, I wasn’t surprised by the fact that porn was playing, but what I was surprised at-”

Oh god.

“-was that the video you were watching was titled ‘bear fucks twink with huge cock’. And now I can’t help but question your hatred towards me.”

Stiles’ face is burning. He’s never been so embarrassed in his life, which is really a great feat because Stiles doesn’t get embarrassed by much. It’s not that Stiles didn’t notice Derek was hot, like, come on now, Derek is gorgeous. He’s not that much taller than Stiles but the size of his biceps? They’re easily the size of Stiles’ thigh. Derek is bigger than Stiles in every aspect.

Well, he’s not sure about every aspect. Stiles has never seen Derek’s dick outright, but he’s seen him wear sweatpants, and ooh boy, that bulge gives Stiles the impression that Derek is hung like a horse.

Stiles still hates Derek because Derek still has his asshole-ish ways. Case in point: right the fuck now. But, you can hate someone and still want to fuck them, right? Hate sex exists.

Derek is patiently waiting for Stiles to respond, and Stiles has never been good at staying silent, so it’s only a matter of time.

Stiles finally turns around to face Derek and clears his throat. “That- that means nothing. People watch shit like that all the time. Plus, you hardly qualify as a bear.”

It’s a weak excuse but, hey, Stiles is grasping at straws here.

Derek tilts his head to the side in agreement. “True, but if that was the case, why do you seem so nervous?”

Stiles can’t think of a reasonable response in time and Derek knows it.

Derek smirks again and Stiles really wants to knee him in the dick.

“Do you wanna fuck me?”

Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek. What the fuck is his endgame here? Why is he being such a dick?

Oh yeah, because Derek is a fucking asshole.

“Fine,” Stiles says through gritted teeth. “I find you attractive. I watch porn about big, hairy men fucking twinks because I want you to fuck me. Are you happy now? Jackass.”

Stiles storms into his room and slams the door. That’s a perfect example of why people can’t be pretty and nice. It’s genetically impossible.

Stiles lets out a sigh and dumps his backpack on his bed before stripping out of his clothes and getting into the shower. He stands under the spray for ten minutes, just praying to the cosmic gods out there that a black hole will appear and suck the whole human race into nothingness. After waiting for a few more minutes, and his prayers going unanswered, he washes himself then gets out to dry off. He wraps the towel around his waist and opens the door to find Derek standing outside his bathroom door. He shrieks (a very manly shriek by the way) and covers his chest with his arms, not that that’ll hide much.

“Derek, what the fuck are you doing?”

Derek’s eyes do the slowest sweep in fucking existence down Stiles’ body and Stiles feels his cheeks flush. Ugh, why are the cutest guys always assholes?

“I came to apologize. I was being a dick-”

“What else is new?” Stiles interrupts. Stiles is rewarded with another smirk.

“-and I took it too far. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”

Stiles looks at Derek for a second. They’ve never apologized to each other when they did shit, and even though Stiles didn’t take it as far as Derek did, Stiles can’t stand here and act like he wasn’t also an asshole.

Stiles sighs. “I’m sorry too. I was also kind of a dick. Not as much as you, but still.”

Derek laughs a little, and Jesus H. Christ, how is a laugh sexy? “Apology accepted.”

Stiles holds his hand out for a handshake. Derek puts his hand in Stiles’ and they shake on their newfound not-friendship-but-also-maybe-not-complete-dicks-to-each-other-ship.

“So,” Derek starts after they drop their hands. “wanna have sex?”

Stiles might’ve actually choked on his own fucking spit, because what?

“What?”

“I asked if you wanted to have sex.”

“Where is this even coming from? You hate my guts. Every time I talk you look like you’re going in for a root canal.”

Stiles is so confused, he’s also getting hornier by the minute, but right now, the confusion is outweighing the horniness.

“I don’t hate you. Yeah you talk a lot, and it was so annoying at first, sometimes it still is, but I got used to your incessant chatter.”

Stiles knows he looks dumb, his mouth is gaping and everything. “I think maybe there was something in the water because I must be high. We’ve lived together for over 3 months and you’re telling me that you actually want to have sex with me?”

Derek shrugs. “Yeah. Just because you can be kinda annoying that doesn’t mean you’re not cute. Plus, people have sex all the time, that doesn’t mean we have to, like, date or whatever.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek’s so romantic, how has Stiles been able to resist jumping his bones for this long?

“You just embarrassed the hell out of me, why would I ever want to have sex with you?” Never mind the fact that Stiles definitely does want to have sex with him.

“Maybe you don’t. If not, then fine. We can just go back to how things were. If you do, then we’ll have a great time.”

Stiles is still struggling to wrap his mind around all of this. Derek wants to have sex with him? In what universe does that make sense?

Apparently in this one.

Stiles does this sort of shrug that basically portrays well, what the fuck? Okay then. “Okay. I guess this is happening then.”

Derek smirks for like the fiftieth time in thirty seconds and if Stiles was a stronger man he definitely would’ve kneed Derek in the dick, but clearly, Stiles is weak.

Very, very weak.

“My room or yours?” Derek asks.

“Mine. Since it’s right there,” Stiles points behind Derek and, lo and behold, there’s Stiles’ bed.

Grabbing Stiles’ hand in a surprisingly gentle gesture, Derek walks the three feet from the bathroom to the bed to lay Stiles down.

Derek gets on top of the bed and is sitting on his knees by Stiles’ feet. He pulls his shirt off like he’s in Magic Mike or something before throwing it onto the floor without a care in the world. Jesus, it’s like his muscles have muscles. Stiles starts feeling a little insecure about his body. He’s got muscles, but, he’s not, like, ripped like Derek is. Stiles likes to think he has somewhat of a swimmer’s body.

Looming over him like a fucking creeper, Derek stares down at Stiles. “You know, you’re very pretty.”

Stiles refuses to admit that he blushes at that because he’s not pretty. If anything he’s handsome, some may even say gorgeous.

“Can you just get on with it?” Stiles throwing a scowl in Derek’s direction.

“Bossy. I kinda like that,” he strips his sweatpants off and throws them down too. Now he’s only in a pair of gray boxer briefs and, god, Stiles wants to suck his dick so badly. Which is weird because he’s really not all that experienced with blowjobs, he’s given maybe two blowjobs in his life. Whatever, Derek has a great dick okay?

Derek tugs at the towel around Stiles’ waist. “Is this okay?”

Stiles nods and then the towel is gone, and Stiles is laid bare for Derek to gaze at his leisure. And boy does Derek gaze. He does another slow sweep down Stiles’ body, except this time it’s even more intense because now Stiles is naked.

“You’re not a virgin right?” Derek asks while rummaging through Stiles’ bedside drawer and pulling out the lube. First of all, it’s rude to go through people’s stuff! Second of all, how the hell did Derek know his lube was there? Although, where else would lube be?

“Nope. There will be no deflowering of the Stiles today. Sorry to disappoint.”

Derek shrugs before popping open the lube. “I’m not one of those weirdos who pops a boner at the thought of popping someone’s cherry.”

Stiles chuckles, like actually chuckles. Who knew Derek was even capable of being funny?

Stiles pulls his legs up and hooks his hands behind his knees. The position exposes Stiles’ hole to the extreme and it makes Stiles blush. Just because he’s not a virgin doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get nervous or embarrassed during sex.

Derek knee-walks closer to Stiles and squirts some lube onto his fingers. He puts one hand on Stiles’ right thigh while the other one gently and slowly breaches his entrance. Fuck, his fingers are thick. Thicker than Stiles’ that’s for sure. Stiles definitely isn’t shy about fingering. He fingers himself all the time, but it’s been a while since someone else’s fingers were up there. Stiles is nervous and excited about it all.

Derek doesn’t spend too much time with the one finger, quickly adding a second one and that’s when it starts feeling good. Derek’s fingers are about an inch away from his prostate and Stiles is about to curse him out until Derek presses both fingers against his prostate and Stiles has to bite his lip to stop the loud ass moan that almost escaped his mouth. Judging by the look on Derek’s face, he knows he touched Stiles’ prostate, and being the asshole that he is, he has a cocky smile on his face.

After scissoring those two fingers inside Stiles for a few minutes, Derek adds a third finger. The stretch is definitely there, but hey, Stiles likes a little pain with sex. He can be kinky sometimes.

“Okay. I’m ready, come on,” Stiles says. He was starting to get impatient. He just wants to get dicked down already, damn.

Derek gently removes his fingers and gets off the bed to pick up his sweatpants. He reaches into the pocket and retrieves a condom out. Stiles’ mouth drops.

“So you just knew I’d have sex with you?”

“I didn’t know. I just hoped.”

That smarmy little bastard.

Derek gets back in bed and, finally, removes his briefs and...

Holy mother of god.

Well, maybe not the mother of god. That’s blasphemous as fuck. But! The sentiment is the same because wow. Stiles is glad he didn’t knee him in the dick because that dick is too gorgeous to cause serious injury to. He’s not like porn star big, but it is big and long too. And it’s uncut, which Stiles has a weird sort of kink about. He loves uncut cocks. Yeah, that’s a good-looking cock right there.

Derek unwraps the condom and rolls it onto his cock. He then grabs the bottle of lube that he placed on the bed and squirts more out before slathering a generous amount onto said cock. He makes Stiles move his hands before replacing them with one of his own, the other is at the base of his cock, lining it up to Stiles’ hole.

“You ready baby?” Derek asks.

“Call me baby again and I’ll dropkick you in the throa- oh fuck.”

Of course, Derek chose when Stiles was mid-threat to start pushing his cock inside. Geez, that is seriously a big cock, even the fingering didn’t make it burn any less. Derek gently pushes his cock in deeper before pulling it out, then he pushes it in a little deeper than he did at first before pulling it back out again. He repeats that until his cock is seated all the way inside, his balls to Stiles’ ass. Then he stops and waits. There’s sweat gathering above Derek’s eyebrow and some is even rolling down his temple. Needless to say, Derek isn’t as unaffected as he’s trying to be. Which makes Stiles feel kind of great actually.

“Okay, you can move now,” Stiles informs Derek. And when Stiles says Derek goes to town, he really means that.

Derek puts his other hand behind Stiles’ left knee and pulls out all the way, not even the tip is inside, before thrusting back in. Hard.

Stiles’ breath gets forced out of him at the movement. This truly is hate sex, kinda. Derek said he didn’t hate Stiles, but he certainly doesn’t like him all that much. At least, not yet. Who knows what will stem from this. That’s something to think about when Derek isn’t pounding him into the mattress.

Derek delivers a thrust that nails Stiles’ prostate dead on and Stiles makes this super embarrassing sound, like a high-pitched keen. He knows he’s not going to live that down after this.

After that, Derek is consistent with the hard abuse on Stiles’ prostate, and Stiles is getting close to orgasm embarrassingly fast. He isn’t too sure he’ll be able to last much longer. Although, Derek doesn’t seem like he’s going to be able to either. If the grunts and groans he’s letting out are anything to go by.

“Unh, fuck. Derek-!”

“Yeah, you’re gonna come?”

Stiles frantically nods his head and grabs his own cock to start stroking himself. Derek thrusts harder if that’s even possible, and within a few seconds, Stiles is coming all over his stomach.

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek groans and thrusts one, two, three more times before stopping with a deep, guttural moan. He almost sounds like an actual bear and Stiles can’t help the giggle that escapes him.

Derek gives him a weird look but his lip quirks up in a maybe sort of smile. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing,” Stiles gives him a shit-eating grin.

And since it’s already been established that Derek is an asshole, he grinds and his cock brushes against Stiles’ oversensitive prostate causing Stiles’ whole body to convulse. He slaps Derek’s arm.

Derek pulls out and lets go of Stiles’ legs. They’re sore from being in the same position for so long but Stiles can’t even care. He’s sated and all he wants to do now is take a nap. Stiles stretches his whole body like a cat while Derek disposes of the condom.

“Okay, that was fun. If you want to annoy me, I’ll be in my room.” And with that, Derek walks out of Stiles’ room to go to his own.

Derek was definitely a dick, but Stiles could deal with him. Especially if they continue to fuck like that.

Holy (not) mother of god indeed.

#sterek #sterek smut #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek fic #sterek au #smut #My fic

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imjustwritingg · 4 years ago

Text

braced myself for the goodbye

Hi friends! This is an 8x11 speculation fic as requested. All the talk of that amazing promo and the concerns of a possible Upstead breakup took me down a seriously deep rabbit hole of feelings and angsty goodness that became this one shot. Title is lyrics from the song “Mine” by Taylor Swift. Enjoy lovelies!

TW // mentions of domestic violence

Also on AO3 and FFNet!

Braced myself for the goodbye,

'Cause that's all I've ever known

Then you took me by surprise

You said, "I'll never leave you alone"

Twelve hours ago Hailey’s morning had started out so wonderfully. She had been half asleep, anticipating the sounding of her alarm to wake her for the day, but instead she was woken up with Jay’s lips ghosting over her skin. It was dreamlike, a glimpse of what heaven could be. She had smiled uncontrollably, wiggled against him, and when she rolled in his arms to face him she was greeted with a grin and his sleepy voice saying good morning.

“A very good morning indeed. Not a bad way to get woken up. Who’d have thought that elite Detective Jay Halstead would be such a sap? And a cuddler too.”

He had rolled his eyes at her, but there was a playful smirk on his face and he just pulled her closer against him. His arms wound under and around her and his hands pressed against her back. The feel of his fingers had sent goosebumps shooting out all across her skin.

“I think you love it,” he told her as he casted quick glances between her lips and her eyes.

“I do love it,” she said while moving her hand up his chest and around his neck to the back of his head.

He hummed out a response and leaned his head down closer so that little space was left between them.

“I love you,” he confessed.

He hadn’t given her a chance to respond and instead pressed his lips against hers for several moments, swallowing the moan that escaped her and not waiting or expecting her to say the words back.

The moment he said them and his lips were on hers, Hailey felt like she was floating. She knew she loved him, she had for a while, and a part of her knew he loved her too, but hearing the words as they fell from his lips was something she didn’t think she’d ever forget. It put an ache in her chest that was so good she wished she could bottle it up and keep it for forever.

The moment was cut short when they’d been interrupted yet again by a ringing phone and before she could say the words back that she so desperately wanted to say to him, they had to get dressed and head into the district. What Hailey hadn’t anticipated was the case they’re pulled into wrecking her beyond comprehension.

What was supposed to be a simple wellness check quickly turned into a search for a missing family and an ugly domestic violence case that Intelligence took the lead on. And in the process of connecting the dots and weeding through the lies of an abuser, Hailey was forced to remember her past and the monster her own father had been while she was growing up. The monster he could still be.

By the time the case is over and the last of the files have been closed, Hailey is completely deteriorated from the workday. She just wants to crawl into bed and try to forget, but when she enters her apartment she quickly spots a hoodie hanging over the back of her couch that doesn’t belong to her. Suddenly her heart aches again as she thinks about her partner.

Jay had been an anchor for her throughout the day just as he’d always been since they became partners. He kept her grounded without being overbearing, letting her know he was there for her and by her side. But as the day went on Hailey reflects on the abuse she doesn’t think she’ll ever really fully move on from.

Weekends that were supposed to be spent having fun with her brothers and being normal kids were instead spent running to the nearest sibling’s bedroom and locking the door when her father had drunk one too many beers.

His voice was always so loud when he was yelling that Hailey could swear the whole house would shake. He’d start downstairs, shouting at her mother, knocking his fists into her first, and when she’d sink to the floor or pass out he’d go in search of Hailey or one of her brothers.

There are moments she can remember so vividly hiding in so many places to avoid her father’s hands or whatever belt or cord he had been able to find. The back of a closet, the bathtub, under the dining room table, the shed out back when it wasn’t too cold. She’d spent so much of her childhood hiding and fearing her father, watching the relationship between him and her mother zig zag and spiral, that most days Hailey’s not sure how she turned out to be even remotely sane or normal by any means. She remembers how he’d always apologize to them all, tell them he loved them. Like loving someone and beating the crap out of them were synonymous and one in the same.

She tries so hard to not compare her life with her father to her relationship with Jay, but she can’t help it. She knows deep down that her partner would never think of hurting her the way her father has, but after the day she’s had and the too much time she’s had to think, she’s also unsure if she can love him back the way he deserves. She wonders if maybe it was a sign from the universe when they were interrupted earlier in the morning before she could say the words back to him that he so easily could say to her.

Maybe she wasn’t supposed to say them.

Maybe she wasn’t supposed to love him.

There’s a knock that breaks Hailey out of her thoughts and she makes her way to the door. She glances through the peephole and sighs.

Of course it’s him. Who else would it be?

She considers not opening it, but then thinks of what she has to do and the conversation that needs to be had so she opens the door and forces out a smile as she looks up at her partner.

“Hey,” Hailey nearly whispers.

“Hi,” he says back with a half-smile.

She lets him enter the apartment and closes the door behind him. She makes her way towards the kitchen, leans back against the island, and then nods to the couch.

“You left your hoodie here,” she tells him.

He glances to the couch and looks back at her, gives a short nod. “I didn’t come here for my hoodie. I wanted to see you, make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m...dealing,” she says slowly, as if trying to find the right words to say.

He waits for her to start and steer the conversation, but when she doesn’t he takes a small step towards her.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks even though it’s the last thing he wants to do.

She shakes her head, but it doesn’t give him the relief it should. Not when she’s looking at him the way she is, as if she’s about to give him the worst news of his life.

“We should talk. I’m sure you have questions,” she says as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Maybe, but you know you don’t need to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with, Hailey. I’m not gonna push you,” he tells her.

She does know, but she also knows she has to do this while she still has some nerve left.

“I need to tell you this. I need you to understand.”

He nods and gestures to the couch. “You wanna sit?”

She shakes her head and he shuffles his weight to his other foot as he stuffs his hands into his coat pockets. He can tell she needs a moment. He’s always been able to read her, give her exactly what she needs without saying a word, so he waits until she takes a deep breath and then she speaks.

“I don’t think I ever really learned relationships,” she starts, but her eyes don’t meet his as if she’s somewhere else entirely and not standing there in the same room with him.

“My parents didn’t exactly give me and my brothers the greatest example of what one should look like. My dad - he used us all like his own personal punching bags. And my mom, she took it. She just took it every single time and I never really understood it when I was little. Five year old me couldn’t understand why daddy was hurting mommy. It got to a point where it was just normal, expected. And as I got older, I still didn’t ever fully understand it. I think maybe it just happened so much that it was burned into my mom’s brain that, that’s what love is. That it’s okay if someone hurts you as long as they say they love you and they’re sorry after.

“I’ve had boyfriends and I’ve loved them, or tried to anyway, but relationships haven’t ever been easy for me. It’s like a what-if game constantly playing in my head, like a voice in the back of my mind that I can’t ever silence completely. And it gets loud. It gets so loud sometimes. The second-guessing and the wondering if there’s an ulterior motive for things someone says or does. It’s something I’ve never been able to turn off. It’s something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to turn off. Like it’s burned into my brain too. There are parts of me that are just unfixable. Parts of me that I don’t think will ever fully heal.”

There’s a look on her face that Jay knows all too well and he braces himself for what’s about to come. He watches Hailey lean back against the island and she tightens her arms across her chest almost defensively. He doesn’t say a word though, just gives her a nod telling her to continue and waits for it.

“Being your partner is easy for me, Jay. Being your friend is easy. And I know we didn’t ever label whatever it is that we’ve been doing, but I don’t really know how to be a girlfriend. Especially a girlfriend who works with their boyfriend. I’ve tried it before and I don’t know how to be that person. Maybe it’s because of my parents. Maybe I just don’t really know how to love either and that’s not fair to you. Even with Garrett. I know I loved him, but I just – I didn’t know how to. And in the end he paid the ultimate price for loving me.”

Hailey pauses, takes a breath, and then continues. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Jay. I don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve been so good to me and I like being with you, but I – I don’t...”

She looks away from him as she blows out another breath, unable to finish her sentence, but he does it for her.

“You want it to be over,” he says.

The dejected tone of his voice sends a pang through her chest and she nods her head slowly as she meets his eyes again. There’s a sadness in them she doesn’t think she’s ever seen before.

“I think that might be best for both of us. I shouldn’t have – I thought I could do it. That night in the bar when I told you about the job offer and you kissed me? I wanted that for so long. I wanted you. But I’m beginning to realize that just because you want something it doesn’t mean you should have it. And I would never forgive myself if I hurt you down the road by saying or doing something stupid in the heat of the moment. Not after everything you’ve already been through. You don’t deserve that and you shouldn’t have to live with that possibility or my issues. You shouldn’t want that. So, yeah. I want it to be over for both of our sakes.”

She’s not sure what he’s thinking and it’s the first time in a long time that she can’t read him, but it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want to do this, wishes it could be different. That she could be different. But it’s not and she’s not, and she’s afraid that if it doesn’t happen now then both of them will just hurt each other later. So she does the hard part for the both of them, ripping it off clean like a Band-Aid, and ignoring the sting it leaves.

She’s not sure how much time passes as she watches him and waits for him to speak. She can tell he’s thinking too hard, digesting what she’s told him, and the longer he’s silent the more she thinks that her decision to end it all right here is the right call, but then he surprises her when he looks up at her with glistening eyes full of love and compassion and understanding. Everything that he is. She’s not sure she deserves it.

Jay shakes his head slowly as he looks at her from a few feet away. He’s kept his distance, not wanting to make her feel cornered or not in control of the conversation and situation, but then he takes a few steps toward. His eyes burn into hers and she feels her heart pounding relentlessly inside her chest.

“You said you don’t know how to love, but I don’t think that’s true. Hailey, if it weren’t for you being my partner, for your friendship, your love for me - platonic or otherwise, I wouldn’t be here right now. I probably wouldn’t be alive right now.”

His voice is low, almost guttural, as if he’s lost his voice and it’s too painful to speak, but he keeps his eyes on her and goes on still.

“Hailey, you’re the person who loved me enough to make me realize I needed therapy. You’re the one who loved me even after knowing about my own past and the demons I have. My PTSD, what happened with Erin, my dad. You showed me every time you’ve stuck by my side and trusted my decisions even when others didn’t. You showed me when you chose to stay here instead of taking that job in New York. No one has ever chosen me over anything like that before. Not even my own brother. You have showed me countless times you love me without ever saying the words. But that word means something different to you because of your family and I get it. I don’t need to hear you say you love me to know that you do.”

He takes slow, hesitant steps towards her until he’s standing in front of her within arm’s reach to still give her, her space. He looks at her with tears still in his eyes, trying to keep them from falling, as he watches her own roll down her cheeks now.

“I’m not going anywhere Hailey. I know things haven’t been easy for you, they haven’t been fair or made sense. Life hasn’t been kind to you, but that doesn’t make me care about you or love you any less than I do, and it doesn’t make you unworthy of receiving that love either. The things you do for the people in your life, complete strangers even. You have the biggest and most beautiful heart of anyone I’ve ever known.

“You deserve this Hailey. We both do. I know you’re scared, I am too, but not because of your past. I’m scared of losing you. We don’t need to define anything or put a label on it if that’s what you wanna do. Girlfriend might be a bit of a weak term for you anyway when you’re so much more than that. We can take it one day at a time, take things as they come, but I want this. I want you. I wanna be with you.”

“Jay, I - “

“If you really want it to be over between us then I’ll respect your decision and I’ll walk out the door and we’ll never talk about it again. All I’m asking for is a chance to show you how it’s supposed to be, that love can be good. That it is good. That it doesn’t come with conditions or ulterior motives. That you deserve every good thing in this world. And I’ll be here to remind you when you think you don’t.”

He can see the wheels turning in her head, but her eyes are everywhere except on him now and he can’t quite read the look on her face, and it scares him.

There’s a fleeting moment where he knows he won’t come back from this, that she was it for him, but he won’t push her. He won’t do that to her. And when she finally meets his eyes again, but doesn’t say a word, he ignores the crushing of his chest and the sinking of his stomach, and takes a step forward to close the distance between them.

He knows what this is now.

Why she mentioned his forgotten hoodie. Why she didn’t wanna sit. Why she’s kept her distance.

She wasn’t intending for him to stay.

He lifts an arm slowly, not wanting to scare her, and rests the palm of his hand against the side of her face. He brushes his thumb over her cheek like he has a dozen times before now, realizing a second later that this might be the last and it sends an ache through him again. He leans forward and presses his lips to her forehead, lingering a few beats longer than he should, but if it’s the last time he kisses her he’s going to savor it. He removes his lips and drops his hand a moment later, and steps away from her.

When she still doesn’t speak all he can do is give a slow nod before he turns for the door. He doesn’t make it three steps before she calls out to him, her voice shaking and his name cracking in half as it falls from her lips. He stops mid-stride and she notices the slight hesitation from him before he turns around to face her, and then she sees that his tears have fallen. Tears for her. For them.

She knows what she is about to do is the hardest thing she’ll ever do and it’s terrifying, but not as terrifying as it would be if she let him walk out her door for good.

“I want that with you. The good kind of love. I want it and it scares the hell out of me,” she breathes out through hiccups and fresh tears.

It’s all he needs and then he’s walking towards her. He wraps his arms around her, holding her close and tight against him with one arm around her back and his other hand holding her head to his chest.

Her whole body shakes and she can’t stop crying now as she leans into him. And then she whispers, “I do love you and I want you to stay.”

He squeezes his arms around her in their embrace and presses his lips to the side of her head.

“I’ll stay,” he tells her, knowing it’s the only thing she needs to hear from him.

Her eyes close at the sound of his words and her entire body goes limp in his arms. It’s the first moment since the mess of their day on the job that she finally feels herself fully relax and be at ease. She grips his shoulder with a trembling hand, the rest of her body still shaking, but he continues to hold her up and hold her against him like the anchor he’s always been for her.

She knows he means staying more than just tonight and there’s a moment, maybe for the first time in her life, where the future doesn’t worry her or scare her. Not when it includes him, them.

#upstead #upstead fic #hailey upton #jay halstead #jay x hailey #chicago pd

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mllekurtz · 6 months ago

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hey friend!! 19 + 30 for the meme? <3

19) the most interesting topic you've researched for a fic That would definitely be life in the Amundsen–Scott South Pole Station during winterover for my Antarctica fic. It killed me to finally admit I would never finish that wip because I had so much fun falling into that particular rabbit hole. I also enjoyed learning how astrolabes work for remote times and places and ultimate causes: there are youtube videos you can watch that explain the basics. And I've told this story before for sure, but in late 2020 I had a two-hour Skype call with a very patient physicist friend as part of my research for Fundamental Forces Other Than Gravity, which was also fun (I hope for the both of us).

30) share a fic you're especially proud of I've been thinking about The Empire of Lights lately, mostly to remind myself I can write something that lyrical and atmospheric again. It's hard for me to reread something I've written without itching to edit it and lingering on all the things I would do differently, but that fic still holds up pretty well in my own estimation.

#thanks for the ask styg!#fic writer asks

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sullustangin · 2 years ago

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F & S for the fanfic ask game?

thanks for asking!

S: Any fandom tropes you can't resist?

I’ve stated previously that I do really enjoy trope inversions. Give me a trope to write, and I’ll spin it on its head. Or try to in an amusing way (disclaimer: at least, amusing to me)

I also like “Everyone is the hero in their own story” -- every character perceives themselves as the main in their lives. Not everyone knows the same secrets or has the same agendas....this is why I need a chart at times to keep track of who’s doing what where.

I also love competence in my characters; they’ve survived this long in the story as part of a team, so as inept as they may be perceived, they clearly got something going on. I don’t like dumb characters or fodder characters. I do love writing heists/capers where we have multiple moving parts and everyone has to be good at their job. Sometimes, the least experienced person is the best at their job. For example, Talos Drellik ends up being the MVP in a heist fic to acquire the holocron of Darth Nihilius; he’s not a criminal or a spy at ALL, but his competence in archaeology plus his connections in the field ultimately cause the op to be successful.

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

In terms of my SWTOR stuff, there’s an exchange that occurs between Theron and Eva at least three times. The first is during “Love in the Time of Technoplague,” then again in future fics dealing with the long term relationship they enter into, eventually. In each appearance, they banter back and forth with each other, trading lines.

It’s still a gamble.

The opportunity.

The risk.

The test of skill.

The thrill of a little victory.

The rush of more as the games go on.

The danger of losing what little you have.

And then the big win.

It fits the dynamic of Eva as a gambler and as the Voidhound, but also Theron as a spy and agent of the Republic. There are some risks that one has to take to win... and then there’s another layer on top when it comes to love for both of these people. They are risky for each other. She is a criminal, and Theron has some law enforcement authority, based on the comics; he can detain or arrest someone. In turn, Theron has a professional reputation he’s risking due to her activities, not to mention what he turns a blind eye to. Then we have all the personal issues that make relationships difficult for them (which are essays I’ve written elsewhere, haha).

As challenging as it can be to write, I try to create dialogue where the two opponents are equally matched. Everyone sees themselves as the hero in their own story, and that other guy is wrong and their logic sucks and they’re stupid. It’s easy to write a one-sided argument where the hero is 100% correct. I’m also a fan fic writer from a time when anything remotely approaching a self-insert/Mary Sue/Gary Stu was anathema, so I try not to make my OC characters ‘too powerful’ or ‘too correct’ all the time. They lose arguments. And my arguments tend to be long and loud, so ‘snippet’ probably isn’t the best word to describe the except below. It’s from “A Breach of Professional Boundaries” where Eva and Theron disagree about what Theron and his implants are allowed to do on her ship.

Placed below a cut due to length. By this point, Eva has already thrown Theron off his game by flirting with him, and she’s leveraged their agreement to remind him that it’s supposed to go both ways -- now Theron wins a tilt:

“Right, business first. Implants off.”

Theron studied her carefully. “I won’t be as useful.”

“That’s part of the point. I don’t want you to be too useful to the Republic right now. Just me.” Eva leaned against the ladder, an arm looped through it. “I know you will turn the implants back on once we get to Port Nowhere to access the sound file you have. Is there any way for you to avoid ‘going online?’ I don’t want some satellite to trace you there.” She pursed her lips and waited for his response.

Something wasn’t sitting right here. “The Republic already knows that Port Nowhere is mobile again. That’s old news – people on the dark net couldn’t stop chatting about it. I’d look as if I was on a random slow-moving freighter in space, if they decided to check up on me.”

Eva was already shaking her head. “It’s other things that your implants would record that I don’t want getting back to Pub space. People exist that shouldn’t. My business operates in ways that I don’t think Pubs or Imps have considered. My crew – I don’t want them at risk in the future.”

Theron mirrored her positioning, leaning on the ladder, one arm looped through it. “Listen, we have made a partnership. I admit, I didn’t initially think I’d be as useful to you as you were to me, but here we are. This won’t get back to SIS.”

“You may be your own man, but your implants are SIS-issued.” She almost immediately changed her posture once she realized he was mirroring. Interesting. Now she leaned back against the wall, hands behind her.

Theron allowed himself a small bit of humor. “Despite the stories, SIS agents don’t have self-destruct mechanisms that go off for disloyal or impure thoughts. Especially the second one; I know one guy who would have dropped dead at graduation for eyeballing the Director’s ex-wife.” He managed to get a ‘heh’ out of her. “Seriously though, SIS can’t access my implants unless I let them. I don’t plan on being conspicuous, so nobody will see Theron Shan there – they won’t have a reason to ask me.”

Eva remained stubborn. “I’d still prefer it if you turned them off, as agreed.”

Theron remained equally as stubborn. “How would you know if I even turned them off anyway?” She frowned, and Theron found some dark pride in finally playing the role of the fox rather than the hound. “Whether I turn them off or not, whether I spill my guts after I get back, whether I’m actually in this with Darok – it’s all a matter of trust.”

Eva’s anger simmered as she drew away from the wall to come closer to Theron. “Port Nowhere is under my rule. What happens to you there is completely in my hands.”

“Hell of a trump card. But you’d only get to use it once. Better make it count.” Theron pulled his arm free from the ladder and straightened up to his full height. “I trust you’ll make the right decision for you and your crew. I assume my stuff is this way?” He pointed down the narrow hallway, the only way one could go.

#swtor #swtor fan fiction #askbox #thanks for asking!#Fan Fic Ask meme #talos drellik #theron shan #oc: eva corolastor

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janeyseymour · 3 years ago

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Dangerous Desires- a fanfic

After three years of being fostered by Jane Seymour, turning 18 is right around the corner for a young Katherine Howard. What that entails? Stick around and you'll suddenly see more (seymour).

hi! so, this idea popped into my head a few days ago and with some kind ideas from a dear friend @the-quiet-winds, this little fic was born. More to come! As always, have a lovely day!

Ch 1 - Be Still My Heart

Ever since Jane Seymour was a child, she knew she wanted children. What she didn’t know when she was a little girl was that she would never have a child of her own. She would come close, but it would never happen.

When Jane was 28, she would fall pregnant. She would give birth to a stillborn child before developing Sepsis. The woman would barely overcome it and remain in unstable conditions for quite some time before being able to say she was in the clear. The day she was deemed safe and cured was the day she would vow to herself she would never produce her own child ever again. Sure, the task of healing her body went through was rough, but nothing would ever be harder than seeing a child- her child- that would just become another lifeless body in the ground.

At 30, the blonde woman decided that she had enough moping, and if she couldn’t have a child of her own, there were so many children who needed a home. So, she began to foster. Within her first week of having her fostering license, one little girl was placed in her household. She would leave three weeks later to be reunited with her family. It was hard for the kind woman to let go of the little girl, but ultimately she knew the little girl would be okay.

Child after child, Jane Seymour continued on with fostering. Any child that she could help along the way knowing they were in a safe and loving house- even just overnight- she would do it a million times over.

And then Katherine Howard entered her life. Katherine Howard- the teenager, not a little girl- who came to her more terrified than any other child who had entered her home. Katherine Howard- the anxiety ridden child who didn’t know how to act like a child because she had to grow up far too soon. Katherine Howard- the girl who stole Jane Seymour’s heart.

3 years of being in Jane’s care had significantly benefited the once shy and meek teenager. She was nearing the end of her senior year, and turning eighteen was just around the corner for the young lass. No more was she the almost mute teen that walked in through the front door three years ago with nothing but the clothing on her back. No more was she the girl who bounced around from foster parent to foster parent and school to school. No more was she the lass who walked around in fear of being thrown out of the house over something as small as using the salt shaker at the dinner table. No. Now, she was the girl who happily opened the front door to Jane Seymour’s house and announce she was back home proudly. (She had been hesitant to call it home at first, but the blonde woman made it clear to her that even if she were to be taken out of her care, it would always be home- if Katherine so desired). Now, she was the girl who would greatly announce that she had been living with her foster mother and attending the same high school for three years. Now, she knew she could do almost anything, and even if it were wrong- well, her foster mother would continue to look at her like she deserved the sun, the stars, and the moon.

But there was one thing that hadn’t changed. Katherine Howard, the name she vehemently hated, was still motherless. Of course, she had Jane Seymour as her foster mother. But as she knew, once she was eighteen, the woman that had so kindly taken her in and shown her love and care for so long had the option of leaving her to her own devices. The teen wasn’t foolish. She had been told time and time again that a family wouldn’t get rid of her, only for them to lose patience with her indecisiveness and inability to make a decision. Or perhaps they would get angry that she wasn’t capable of being the child they so desperately wanted because, as stated before, Katherine Howard grew up much too quickly. Katherine Howard would never have a mother to call her own. She could pretend that Jane Seymour was her mother, but in the end there was no such luck.

Or so she thought. Unbeknownst to her, Jane Seymour was a sneaky, sneaky woman who was using her powers for good. There was no family that would fight for Katherine at this point- not years ago when the teen was a little girl placed in foster care, and certainly not three years after the girl had been placed in her care. And unbeknownst to Katherine Howard, Jane Seymour had full intention of adopting the sweet teen just a few weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday.

The pair had just finished cleaning up dinner and were settling in for their nightly routine of watching a movie and Kat went to reach for the remote when a gentle hand was placed over hers. When the teen first moved in here she would have inevitably flinched away from the touch. Now however, she knew there was no malice behind the hand and playfully swatted it away.

“Come on Jane,” she laughed quietly. “What are we watching tonight anyway? I was thinking we could try this new show called-”

“Actually love,” Jane started gently. “I think there’s something we need to talk about.”

Those nine words were enough to make the younger girl’s heart stop. She took her hand

back and leaned away from the coffee table shaking slightly. She racked her brain for any wrongdoings that might have occurred that would cause this conversation to take place but could find none.

“Uh, yeah sure. What’s up?” She tried to keep the waiver out of her voice, but it was clear she had become a nervous wreck within the past few seconds.

The foster mum cleared her throat before speaking with some hesitation in her voice, “So... Kat, your eighteenth birthday is in a few weeks.” Ah, so it was that conversation. The one where Jane would tell the teen that once she turned eighteen she was to move out and never contact her again.

Katherine’s wall immediately went up and she stood up straight, any fear in her eyes gone and replaced with a look that was almost stony. “Yes.”

“And I was wondering,” the older woman drew out.

“I’ll make this easy for you,” the teen far too used to being thrown out of places, cut her off. “When do you want me out?”

The blonde’s mouth could not have dropped any quicker. She stood scooted closer on the couch to the girl who had stolen her heart as she searched for her words.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” was all that she could seem to say. “No, no, no. No. No.” She stated the last “no” with such might that she shocked herself.

“Well then what is it?” Katherine’s hopes had been raised, but the lack of care in her voice didn’t show that.

“Oh, god,” Jane stumbled over her words again. “This is not how I planned on this going,” she muttered to herself. “I- uh,” she cleared her throat again. “Your eighteenth birthday is in a few weeks, and I do have a gift for you if you’ll take it, but I wanted to run it by you in case you might not want it- which is completely understandable if you don’t want to accept my gift. I wouldn’t be hurt in the slightest, and I would understand.” A lie. It would cut through Jane’s heart of stone like nothing else.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Kat’s curiosity peaked. In the last three years that the girl had lived with Jane she had been showered with both big and little gifts that ranged from a new phone to a small cup that the older woman simply could not pass up on buying for the girl.

“Let me just go-” The foster mum stood abruptly from her spot. “-and get it.” She ran into her room with a bit more spring in her step than Katherine had ever seen before returning a few short seconds later with a manilla envelope. “Here.” She shoved the envelope into her foster daughter’s hands not so eloquently.

With a confused look on her face, Kat opened the envelope and pulled out many documents. She scanned her eyes over the first page when she saw it. Request for adoption of Katherine Howard.

#six the musical fanfiction #six musical fanfiction #six fanfic #fanfic #six the musical fanfic #jane seymour six #six jane seymour #six katherine howard #katherine howard six #kat howard

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lovely-lynn · 3 years ago

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For a request, how about a bit of a crossover? What do you think the class in MLB would be in Hogwarts? House Wise?

Hey, thanks for the request I put this in like headcanon format but if you would like a fic to go with it let me know(though I may end up doing the anyway 😂)!!!!!

Marinette: GRYFFINDOR I can see Marinette as all of the houses honesty. She is kind like a huddle puff, cunning like a Slytherin, and smart like a Ravenclaw. I heavily considered putting her in Ravenclaw but ultimately decided that her stubbornness and somewhat reckless behavior as well as her tendency to rush into certain situations made her better suited for Gryffindor.

Adrien: HUFFLEPUFF. Like Marinette I can see him as other houses and I debated putting him in Gryffindor too. However, despite being brave, his kindness and loyalty put him in Hufflepuff for me.

Kim: GRYFFINDOR. Kim is 100% no doubts a Gryffindor. He is reckless, impulsive, and brave as well as extremely competitive. he also definitely plays Quidditch.

Alix:GRYFFINDOR. Alix is put in Gryffindor for the same reasons as Kim. They cause so much trouble together its not remotely funny. they could honestly give the Weasley twins a run for their money at times. This has ended in several prank wars between the two groups which always ends in the hospital wing.

Rose: HUFFLEPUFF. Rose is a hufflepuff through and through. She can be fierce but she is also endlessly kind and loyal.

Juleka: HUFFLEPUFF. I struggled with where to put Juleka and almost put her in Ravenclaw. I ended up placing her with Rose in hufflepuff because of her loyalty.

Nathaniel: RAVENCLAW. I put Nathaniel in Ravenclaw because he seems to be pretty silently smart. I debated putting him into hufflepuff but I felt like his creative ideas made him more suited for Ravenclaw.

Max: RAVENCLAW. There was no doubt in my mind as to where to put Max because lets be honest this kid is a genius.

Ivan: HUFFLEPUFF. I view Ivan as a very gentle giant. He has his moments and he is not afraid to protect his friends but any other time and he is very calm.

Myeline: HUFFLEPUFF. I feel like her love for charity work and desire to help others gives her a one way ticket to Hufflepuff.

Alya: SLYTHERIN. Okay this decision was in no way affected by salt. I put her in Southern simply because of how far she is willing to go to accomplish her goals. I came very close to putting her in Gryffindor and I can definitely she her doing well in that house but in the end I feel like her ambition lands her in Slytherin.

Chloe: SLYTHERIN. This was another character I hesitated to put in slytherin. The reason I put her there is she kind of reminds me if Draco Malfoy. Which is not necessarily a bad thing. Like Draco she is portraying someone who is overconfident and spoiled because of who her parents are however she doesn't have the greatest of home lives because of her absent parents.

Lila: SLYTHERIN. Okay so there was no doubt in my mind of where to put Lila. She is incredibly cunning and she is willing to do absolutely anything, no matter what it is, to get her way.

I hope you like this!!!! I really enjoyed doing it!!!!!

#miraculous ladybug #harry potter #gryffindor #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #slytherin #the sorting hat #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #lila rossi #Ivan #Myeline #juleka couffaine #miraculous lb #nathaniel kurtzberg #max miraculous ladybug #Ros

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lemonpeter · 3 years ago

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STARKER: by Peter B. Parker

Chapter 10: Doppelgänger

A/N: hello and welcome back to this clusterfuck of a fic! i, bloo, sincerely apologize for the delay in the posting of this chapter. real life took over for a bit, i started coming out of my winter depression session and feeling better led to me doing more things irl, and thus fandom took a seat on the back burner for a couple of hot secs.

bri has been SO patient with me and she is the best and the sweetest for dealing with my ADD ass. <3 we love bri.

ANYWHO-

we also love y’all, and appreciate you so much! hopefully updates will become more regular again.

thanks for sticking with us, bloo and bri <3

(Bri here: real life has been wild for both of us lol bloo is wonderful 💕 also it feels like I’m gushing about myself since I’m the one posting but I promise that note was copied from what bloo wrote on the doc-)

Warnings: Peter is Not Okay, angst, whump, g*n mention, wound mention, guilt, victim blaming, g*slighting (lemme know if I need to add)

Masterlist ao3

***

“Did Tony just get- shot?” Ned asked incredulously, eyes wide with disbelief. “Peter shot him?”

“I mean...yes? I think? But wait, look- Peter’s acting like he doesn’t know what’s going on. Did he not do that?” Paige rushed the words out, gazing intently at the screen for a moment. Then she turned and looked first at Ned, then at the other agents in the room. “We didn’t do that, did we?” When everyone hurriedly shook their heads with wide eyes, the teen included, she sighed and took off her glasses to run her hands down her face. “So he’s shooting people now?”

Another heavy sigh sounded from a few feet away. Fury closed his eye, taking a deep breath before cutting his gaze to an agent who was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed as he stared at the monitor. “Grayson.” The man stood up straight, blinking with a sheepish expression on his face and he looked over at the director. “Contact May Parker. Now.”

The agent frowned and hesitated before ultimately deciding to speak up. “But… Sir, didn’t she ask that we not-”

Fury was quick to interrupt, his tone biting. “I’m sure she would like to be notified that her nephew has turned homicidal,” the bald man spat, rolling his eye in irritation. “Now like I said- contact May Parker and let her know that there have been some…developments.”

Even if it wasn’t intentional, the violence was still Peter’s doing. Which didn’t seem like a good sign.

He let out a heavy breath. “Tell her that a car will be outside her apartment waiting for her within the next two hours.”

The already tense atmosphere of the room only grew as Fury never looked away from the man, keeping their gazes locked as he dared the agent to question his authority for a second time.

“Of course, Director Fury.” Eyes on the ground, Grayson quickly turned and walked through the doorway, the other occupants turning back to their tasks.

Everyone’s eyes were trained on the screens as they watched Peter all but drag Tony into the penthouse from the elevator. The older man didn’t look good in any sense of the word, not even close. He was pale, sweaty, with rattled breathing and an ever-growing bloodstain covering his chest. And Peter’s panic was clearly visible on his face.

After a few moments, Ned spoke up, discomfort lacing his tone. “I- Someone please tell me he’s not about to do what I think he is…”

“Holy shit,” Paige breathed. Her hand placed itself over her mouth that was dropped open.

Noises of shock echoed throughout the space, and Ned averted his eyes, swallowing with difficulty.

Agent Hill spoke up for the first time since the scene had unravelled. “I don’t think Peter’s controlling this thing, not anymore.”

Fury turned to look at her, gaze narrowed. “What do you mean? The illusion is obviously running, and I’m assuming that means the glasses are receiving input from him. Right Leeds?”

Ned, still unable to keep his eyes on the monitors, nodded slowly. “Yes, sir. Th-That’s correct.”

It was Hill’s turn to nod, then. “Yes, that’s true, but not what I meant. I don’t think he is consciously influencing the illusions anymore. Or at least not completely.”

Paige hummed softly, head hanging as she leaned down over one of the desks. The dark ringlets of her hair fell around her like a curtain, obscuring her face. “I agree. He seems to still be in control of some aspects, like location. And he was able to, uh, place the sutures. Successfully stopping Mr. Stark from bleeding out. But he wasn’t able to heal him indirectly, even though he obviously tried.”

“What...but then how? Why are things happening if Peter isn’t the one doing the um, influencing?” Ned turned back to the screens, specifically the one full of lines and lines of green characters. He wasn’t ready to look at the others yet. “I’m constantly checking the logs and the security, there have been no breaches. Um. Other than us, that is.” He looked back up, waiting for a response from one of the others, eyes searching Paige’s hopefully, but none came.

No one had an answer to that question.

***

Tony may have been the one who got shot, but there was a hole in the middle of Peter’s chest, too. Raw, tender, cavernous...aching with every single breath that he took.

And he couldn’t close it up, like he had done Tony’s, because the piece of him that was meant to be there was just...gone.

Missing.

And he had no idea how to get it back.

Something was glaringly and obviously wrong, but Peter didn’t know what exactly it was, or what he was supposed to do. Despite having tried his hardest to fix things, nothing was getting better. It was all just...getting worse. (He was getting worse-)

He knew that something was missing. It felt like a huge part of him had been ripped from his life, leaving a gaping void that couldn’t be filled.

And things were only getting worse, still.

Especially between him and Tony.

Peter had thought that things were okay as Tony recovered from his...injury. Not perfect, but okay. Good. Improving. Sure, his husband had been quiet and subdued for the past few days. But he thought that was reasonable and to be expected, the man was in pain. (He was in pain, too, though. Tony didn’t seem to notice. Or care.)

But even now that the older man was mostly healed, there was still a strange tension between them. Distance.

And Peter had no fucking idea what to do about it. Because Tony refused to tell him what was wrong.

Deep down, Peter knew. He knew that everything was wrong, that the whole situation was wrong, that there was no part of their world that was even remotely okay. But if he acknowledged that fact, what was the point? Of any of it? What did he have then, without this, without Tony? Absolutely nothing. So he just wouldn’t acknowledge it.

He’d tried everything he could think of. He’d been attentive to Tony’s every need during his recovery, keeping him supplied with food and water, providing entertainment in the form of working together on various projects and watching TV or reading together, never letting the man out of his sight for more than a few minutes at a time.

He’d even tried to initiate sex, once it seemed Tony was feeling better, so that they could be close to each other in such an intimate way in hopes that it woud fix things. Nothing too strenuous on his husband’s part, of course. Peter had simply wanted to make the older man feel good, bring him some pleasure and show him just how much he meant to his lover.

And Tony had turned him down each time, always pushing him away softly with that clouded, far away look in his eyes. The one that had been there ever since he’d brought up his feelings about what had happened with May.

Now that the older man was better, now that he was healed and had more energy and things could possibly go better, Peter was still too scared to try. He didn’t want to be rejected again. He didn’t know if he could handle it.

He didn’t understand Tony’s refusal in the first place. This world was supposed to be whatever he wanted. And what he wanted was for his husband to want him again, for his husband to love him, touch him, smile at him the way that he used to. And that obviously was not what was happening.

Why did it feel like Tony had more control over things than he did? Sure, the teen intended for his partner to have some semblance of autonomy, in that he could take care of himself and his basic needs, but Peter consciously gave him that autonomy. But now…

Now it seemed like Tony was able to actually think for himself on some level, which would explain why he was able to remember the incident with May despite Peter’s best attempts, and why he seemed hesitant to bring it up to Peter.

And he could see it in Tony’s eyes, the way he didn’t quite know what to make of what little information he did have.

Peter didn’t want to add to the confusion, or cause any more frustration. He didn’t want to stress Tony out.

But he couldn’t tell him the truth, either.

There was nothing he could do.

***

Peter gazed into the bathroom, hands gripping the door frame as he watched Tony.

The older man was standing under the spray of the shower. His hand gingerly rubbed at his chest with a washcloth, head back and eyes closed so as to not look at the mottled knot of scar tissue there.

Peter wanted so badly to join him, his husband, to stand there wrapped in his arms and surrounded by the warmth of the water.

But Tony didn’t want him.

Not anymore.

The two of them were merely coexisting at this point. It was like they weren’t married anymore, not really, like they had slipped back into that painful distance from before, when Tony was still Mr. Stark and Peter was just that fucking kid.

Tony hadn’t touched him since the accident.

“That’s a pretty nasty scar he’s got there, huh? I know you tried to stitch him up but damn. No awards for your suture technique, that’s for sure.”

Peter turned around so fast that he was sure he nearly snapped his neck. That was- That was his voice.

But he knew he hadn’t said anything.

Craning his neck and peering around the large bedroom with wide eyes, Peter held his breath as he listened intently. The sounds of Tony showering could be heard from the open bathroom door. He couldn’t hear anything else, but he could have sworn... “H-hello?” The teen kept turning his head, eyes wide as he looked for any sign of someone else in the room with him.

“Up here.”

And up there he was. Crouched on the ceiling, a position Peter frequently found himself in, was... well, Peter. Another Peter.

He was smirking, something sinister and unsettling glinting in his dark eyes as he gazed down upon his counterpart. “For someone with a sixth sense, it’s really sad that I had to give myself away for you to notice me. So much for that Peter-tingle. You really are losing it, Spider-Boy. Pathetic.” His grin only grew as the words left his mouth.

Peter gaped up at him, heart pounding. What the fuck was going on? He blinked a few times as he tried to take control of the illusion, alter whatever was happening. It wasn’t working. Just like when Tony had been shot. “Who are-“

The other Peter was quick to cut off his questioning. His eyes flashed. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You know exactly who I am.” The double dropped from the ceiling, standing right across from Peter.

It was like looking into a mirror. The doppelgänger was a spitting image of Peter, save for the dark look in his eyes and the cocky smirk pulling at his lips.

“I-I don’t know.” Peter shook his head, soft yet frantic. He was still desperately trying to influence the situation, hands shaking as he clenched them at his sides.”

Not-Peter shook his head in return, laughing as he copied the action. But the sound was cold and harsh, no joy in it at all. “I’m you, you fucking coward. It’s as simple as that. All of this is you! Stop pretending you don’t know what’s going on.”

Peter didn’t want to believe it. This…fake him was cruel. He could never be like that. He never wanted to be anything like that.

The doppelganger scoffed. “You’re no fucking saint, Peter, no matter how much you’d like to convince Tony that you are. He’s catching on, isn’t he? Starting to realize that things aren’t as perfect as you’ve been making them out to be?”

“That’s n-not true,” Peter stuttered as he tried to control his breathing. “You don’t know anything about Tony. Don’t bring him into this-”

“How are things with Tony, by the way?” The doppelganger’s lip curled up at the pained expression that took over Peter’s face. “Ohhh, that bad huh? I can’t say I’m surprised…” He let himself trail off. “It really is sad, you know, Peter? Call me redundant but I feel it needs to be said again, so bare with me. You’re pathetic.”

“Stop,” Peter ground out, hands clenched into fists at his sides. His eyes were clenched shut, but when he heard the other move, his lids flew open instinctively. “You aren’t- You aren’t real.”

A harsh bark of a laugh seemed to echo throughout the room. “I’m as real as anyone you’ve been interacting with these days.”

“That’s not true,” Peter said softly, denying what he knew deep down was, in fact, the truth.

Not-Peter scoffed, taking a step towards his double. He shook his head softly in admonishment. “You really are pathetic.” He’d made it more than obvious how much joy the word brought him, with the way it all but oozed from his lips. “Like I was saying, this whole thing is tragic, it really is, Peter. You know that there is no way that Tony Stark could have ever wanted you, in any sense of the word. Definitely not like this, this weird relationship you’ve conjured up as a byproduct of your unaddressed daddy issues. That’s why you ran away, like the little fucking coward that you are. You ran, so that you could hide out and construct this sick little fantasy world of yours.

“And how’s that working out for you…kid? It’ll tell you: you shot your husband because he was starting to question you, and of course you couldn’t have that. How dare Tony be anything other than the obedient little puppet you want him to be.”

“That’s not true,” Peter choked out, chest constricting. “I- I didn’t do that, it wasn’t me! I tried- I tried to stop it, I tried to undo it but it wouldn’t work so I had to- I had to f-fix him-”

The double cut him off again, as if he had never spoken at all. “I guess you’re right in that sense, so I’ll give you that. I know it wasn’t you. Because it was me.” He paused, hand moving up to his chin as he pretended to think, waxing philosophical. “But then again, I am you, so-”

“You aren’t me,” Peter argued one last time, knowing it wasn’t true. His voice was weak because he knew the truth. Even if he didn’t want to believe it, refused to believe it. “And I would never hurt Tony.”

“No? Not even after he abandoned you?” The fake Peter was taunting him, voice dripping with condescension. “Because you were having some pretty contradictory thoughts that are leading me to believe otherwise. Remember how angry you were?”

Of course he remembered. The teen had been so hurt and betrayed and he knew it was irrational. But Peter was certain that he wouldn’t- he would never actually hurt Tony. He couldn’t.

But how else did he get shot, if Peter was the one in control?

“Stop it,” Peter snapped, voice full of vitriol. Then he instantly recoiled, stomach sinking. That wasn’t him. The angry, frustrated feelings that he kept having weren’t him. They couldn’t be. He couldn’t act like that, that’s how he got here in the first place, it was everything he was trying to fix.

It was how Tony had gotten hurt.

Maybe he hadn’t been holding the gun, but he’d been the one that caused it to happen.

Peter became aware that the sounds of the shower had stopped when he finally shifted his focus away from the double and back to his husband. Partner. Whoever they were now. He heard footsteps approaching and didn’t have enough time to try and make the doppelgänger disappear.

“Pete?” Tony asked softly, rubbing his hair dry with the towel in his hands. Another was wrapped around his waist, leaving his chest bare. (Peter’s eyes were immediately drawn to the scar.) “Were you just...waiting out here for me?”

His eyes were on the double, unaware that it wasn’t actually Peter, not catching on to the fact that there were two of them yet.

“Of course I was,” not-Peter said, eyes blown wide as he attempted to look innocent, to look like Peter. “It’s not like there’s anything else I could be doing.”

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” When he had first emerged from the bathroom, his tone had been light, more so than it had been since his injury. It had sparked something hopeful inside Peter, and now his heart ached to hear the rough, distrustful edge come back.

“Oh, I mean,” the doppelganger continued with his act, though Peter could see the mirth shining in his eyes. “I just meant that, y’know, there’s nothing else I would rather be doing. Otherwise I would be doing it, since I am control-”

Peter was across the room before he was conscious of the movement, backing the interloper up against the wall and pressing his forearm up to his throat. “Shut the fuck up,” the teen growled desperately, voice breaking. “You ruined everything-”

The double struggled in Peter’s hold, face turning slightly red. His voice was raspy and choked off when he spoke. His nails dug into the skin of Peter’s arm. “Which means you ruined it yourself, you fucking coward! Go ahead, tell him. Tell Tony-”

“Peter? Tell me what? Who is- Peter, what the hell is going on?”

“Shut up!” Peter’s fist jerked back before it flew forward, connecting with the nose of the body in front of him. He heard Tony gasp and call out his name, but he ignored the man in favor of swinging his arm forward again. “I hate you! Why won’t you go away? I hate you!”

Despite the blood pouring out of his nose and rolling in crimson rivulets down his face, not-Peter grinned, the red smearing in sharp contrast on the white of his teeth. “We all knew you hated yourself, Peter, that’s not news.”

When Peter moved like he was going to strike again, Tony decided to actually intervene, even though he still had no idea what was going on. “Hey, Peter- Peter, baby, come here, let him go. This isn’t you baby-”

The teen let out a panicked gasp, melting into the other man’s embrace. “But it is,” he cried, brokenly. “It is me Tony, I-”

Tony hushed him, holding Peter close. He still didn’t know what was going on, but he needed to try and keep Peter calm. And from fighting the other one. “I know this isn’t you. You wouldn’t hurt anyone,” he said softly. Although he wasn’t sure he believed himself. He was so lost with everything going on, he didn’t know what to believe.

The other Peter just stayed leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “You don’t even know, Tony.” The name was said like an insult. “You don’t get any of this, do you?”

“Shut up,” Peter whispered, all the fight leaving his body as he was held. “Just stop. You need to go away.” Why couldn’t he just make the imposter disappear? He was in control.

At least, he was supposed to be.

A grotesquely sinister expression took over the doppelganger’s face. His eyes were bright, burning, as his gaze locked with Peter’s.

The expression set the teen’s already frayed nerves on edge. He froze in Tony’s arms, heart pounding. Why was he looking at him like that? And why was that look so familiar? Where had he seen-

“It’s pretty easy to fool people when they’re already fooling themselves, Peter.”

The reaction was almost instantaneous.

“No, no, no, no,” Peter muttered to himself, voice shaking. His hands moved to his head, pulling at his hair, and when he opened his eyes for a moment, it wasn’t his own face staring back at him.

It was Beck.

“You’re not real,” he whispered, choking on his breath. “Y-you’re not-”

“Peter, baby, you’ve gotta calm-”

“N-not real-”

***

“Peter, sweetie, could you take the rolls out of the oven?”

“Sure thing, mama.” He opened his eyes, glancing back before going to do as she said. That was better.

“And where’s that husband of yours, he’s joining us for dinner, right?”

Peter bit his lip. He hadn’t even noticed that Tony wasn’t there. “He should be back soon, just had to step out for work.” There, that sounded convincing enough.

“Such a hard worker, that Tony,” May chirped, a grin pulling at her lips as she sliced tomatoes for the salad. “You really lucked out, Petey.”

It was a sweet thing to say. It was exactly what he thought about Tony. But it sure as hell wasn’t anything that May would say. However, Peter just let the genuine affection in her tone relax him, letting out a soft sigh. “I really did, Aunt May. I really did.” He smiled at her and then to himself as he got the rolls from the oven and set the pan on the counter.

Ben snorted, taking a sip of his beer. “Stark’s the lucky one, May-Flower. Pete’s quite the catch. Takes after ‘is uncle.” At Richard’s eye roll, he laughed again. The sound filled Peter’s chest with a fuzzy warmth. “Fine. And his father. Parker men ain’t nothing to mess with.”

“Uh huh, right.” May laughed. “I agree with you on one thing, though. Parker men are definitely something else, that’s for sure,” she teased.

Peter laughed along with them, but it was all beginning to feel uncomfortable on some level. He felt just as empty as he knew the rest of his guests were.

His doppelgänger’s words kept racing through his mind. Beck’s words. (“If you were good enough, maybe Tony would-“)

But he pushed them away, steeling himself and blinking blearily for a few seconds. His gaze locked on the food spread out over the counter. None of that mattered.

He was at dinner with his family. They were all there, happy and healthy. Together, the way it should be. There was nothing that he needed to be worried about.

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #B&B write #SbPBP #Peter’s EDITH!verse #starker angst #ironspider #tw gaslighting #tw victim blaming #tw gun mention

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sorry-apsalar · 4 years ago

Text

I Don’t Want You Dating Other Robots

I wanted to write a fic in which Bender was compelled to make the first move and discovery wrote my way into writing this. I don't know if this even really counts as him making a move, he kinda just stumbles into it after being an asshole for a while.

Going to the bar with Fry, Leela, Amy, and Kif was supposed to have been fun. It had been for a time until Fry decided he wanted to ditch the group to flirt with seemingly every other man in the bar. Okay maybe it was only one other man but he was rather handsome and a robot. And to as a cherry on top of this cake of what the fuck, he seemed to be into Fry. Which just didn’t make sense because it was Fry, how could anyone be into Fry? Especially a fellow robot?

“Is there any particular reason you’re glaring so intently at Fry and his new friend?” Leela, sitting across the table from him, asked.

“No!” Bender lied. … Actually though, he was too grumpy about it to keep it to himself. “Why is he flirting with a bot?” He gestured angrily in their general direction. “He already has a robot best friend, isn’t that enough?” What did that bot have that Bender didn’t? “And why does it look like he’s flirting back? Surely he can do better than Fry.”

“You sound jealous,” Amy said from her spot next to Leela.

“I am not. I’m just angry because it doesn’t make sense.”

“Well,” Leela said with a sigh, “if it makes you feel any better, I’m a little jealous too. He only just came out to us as gay last week and he’s already having more luck with men than I ever have.”

“Ah Leela,” Amy put an arm on her shoulder, “that’s not true. He’ll only have had more luck than you if he can actually get a boyfriend and keep him for more than a few days. Which well…” she glanced back over her shoulder at them, “it looks like might be the case. They seem to be hitting it off quite well.”

“Not if I can help it.” Bender slammed his hand on the table as he stood up.

“Uh… maybe you shouldn’t,” Kif said in a meek voice.

Without looking at him, Bender flipped him off, ignoring his shocked and offended gasp as he left.

“Hey Fry,” he said a bit louder than was necessary as he reached Fry and his new ‘friend’. “How’s it going?” He placed himself right next to Fry, standing a bit closer than needed, to glare at the other robot.

“Oh hey Bender.” Fry’s voice had that loose quality to it that indicated he’d crossed the border of tipsy into drunk a couple drinks ago. “This is Samuel. He’s really nice.”

Bender crossed his arms as he looked Samuel up and down. “I’m sure he is.”

Unsurprisingly, Samuel was visibly uncomfortable. His eyes shifted from Bender to Fry as if trying to figure out what their relation was to each other.

“And Samuel,” Fry said, too drunk and too stupid to notice the tension, “this is Bender, my best friend in the whole universe.” He put a clumsy arm around Bender’s shoulders and patted him on the front, making a loud clang. That… somehow eased Bender’s anger a bit.

“Oh friends, I see,” Samuel said, at ease now. Which just made Bender annoyed again. “Nice to meet you Bender.” He held out a hand, offering to shake like some kind of polite jackass. Bender ignored it.

Instead he put an arm around Fry’s shoulders, encouraging him to lean even more into him than he was already starting to. “Speaking of that, come on Fry, we got important best friend stuff to do, remember?” He said as he turned away, pulling Fry with him.

“Huh?” Fry mumbled sounding almost a little like Farnsworth. “What stuff?” He was way too drunk to be flirting with anyone so really Bender was saving him from a potentially not good situation; the only person allowed to rob Fry while he was too drunk to do anything about it was Bender. It had nothing to do with jealousy or fear of being left behind.

“Just stuff.” Bender would have to think of something in the next few minutes – or not, Fry was too drunk to care really – all that mattered though was that Fry wasn’t flirting with Samuel anymore.

Back at their table, Amy grinned up at them as they approached. “And you say you’re not jealous. Though I’m not sure if it’s romantic jealousy or just you being you again. It’s hard to tell with you sometimes.”

“My money’s on the former,” Leela chimed in as if she even knew anything about romance.

Bender glared at both of them and Kif too for good measure because he was with them. “What do you guys even know? Nothing, that’s what. Now if you’ll excuse me, we’re going home, we have best friend stuff to do.”

“Did we have plans I forgot about?” Fry asked as he was pulled away. Bender ignored him.

“Oh, I get it,” Fry said a short while later as they were reentering their apartment.

“Get what?” Bender asked as he released Fry at last.

Fry didn’t break away though, he remained gripping Bender’s arm for balance. “You were jealous because I was flirting with another robot, right?”

“Uh what? No! Why would I be jealous of that?”

“Because you’re worried I’m going to replace you or something, right?” He didn’t give Bender any time to even try to reply before continuing. “But you don’t need to worry about that, okay? You were my first friend here in the future and honestly, you’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had. So you mean the world to me and no one could ever replace you, you’ll always be my best friend no matter what.” Grinning like the drunk idiot he was, Fry leaned in and patted Bender on the chest before finally pushing away and stumbling drunkenly over the couch, leaving Bender standing awkwardly by the door.

“I want more than just that though.”

Bender had whispered it and hadn’t meant to voice it at all really but Fry looked up at him. “Huh? What’d you say?”

“Nothing!” Bender snapped more intensely than intended. “I didn’t say anything.”

Fry gave him a confused look before shrugging it off and turning his attention to retrieving the TV remote from the coffee table, a task made more difficult by his inebriation. Good, he was dropping it.

Trying not to be awkward about it, Bender strode over and sat next to him. Okay so maybe he was a little jealous Fry had been successfully flirting with another robot and maybe that jealously did have its roots in how he felt about Fry and the fact that he was suddenly far more aware of the fact he didn’t just want to be best friends. It wasn’t a feeling he should be having because Fry was a human on top of the fact that Fry had just confirmed he’d only ever see Bender as a friend. But just like how he wasn’t supposed to have feelings in general, it was a feeling he had and couldn’t get rid of, especially now that he’d acknowledged it. Acknowledging one’s feelings always made them stronger which is why he typically tried not to whenever it was a feeling he didn’t want but it was too late now and it was all Fry’s fault, Leela and Amy’s too for being the one’s to bring up the possibility in the first place. All three of them could go fuck themselves, especially Fry, making him feel things, how dare they? Well, he was going to pretend he felt nothing until it eventually became the truth just to spite them.

It didn’t go away though. If anything, it only grew stronger. His jealousy did too every time he caught Fry flirting with someone, especially if they were another robot because that just hit too close to home. Unfortunately, Fry seemed to have a preference for robots, making it that much worse. What did any of those bots have that Bender didn’t? He was better than all of them combined, why wasn’t Fry even remotely interested in him like that?

Fry somehow even managed to go on three dates despite Bender’s best efforts, only one of which was with another human. Bender sabotaged all three of course, ruining Fry’s chances of going on any further dates with those people. During the first one he’d tried to be discreet but ultimately failed and didn’t even bother trying for the other two. Which inevitably led to Fry confronting him about it.

“I’m beginning to think you have a problem with me dating people,” Fry said, giving Bender a side-eye glare as they returned home. Despite the damage done to his clothes as a result of the small explosion Bender had caused to end the date, he didn’t go to his room to change.

“What gave you that idea?” Bender replied, feigning nonchalance as he returned to his spot on the couch. He extended an arm for the remote but before he could grab it, Fry strode over to the coffee table and snatched it away. This apparently was a conversation they were going to have right now whether Bender liked it or not.

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re always dragging me away whenever you see me flirting with someone. Or how you ruined all three of the dates I’ve been on so far. Which is just no fair because I’ve lived practically my whole life in the closet and now that I’m finally allowed to be out, I still can’t date or even flirt with anyone because you’re always stopping me. What’s all that about?”

Bender maybe should’ve prepared a response for when this finally came up but he’d chosen to spend his time doing other things instead. But it now left him floundering for an explanation that wouldn’t give him away. … So… “Stop dating and flirting with robots and I’ll stop stopping you.” Maybe he could brush thing off as him disapproving of robo-sexual relationships. It was more accepted these days but there were still quite a few people who looked down on it. He’d never been one himself because why would he care what other people did if it didn’t involve him? But Fry shouldn’t know that about him.

Crossing his arms, Fry frowned down at him. “Who I date is none of your business. And… and… you’re not my dad so I’m not going to let you stop me. I can do whatever I want now and I’m going to so fuck you.” With that he turned and stomped out which was bad enough on its own but he brought the remote with him.

Bender glared after him. Maybe he should follow, make sure Fry didn’t do something stupid or something Bender didn’t want him to do. … Nah, that’d just make him madder. As it was he’d probably get over it in a few hours, a day or two at most. So instead, with the robot equivalent of an angry sigh, he extended an arm to turn on the TV that way which sucked because no one should have to do that. When Fry returned it better be with the remote or there’d be hell to pay.

A Week or so Later

Fry wasn’t over it. He didn’t seem actively mad anymore but he did avoid Bender. He even went out alone in the evenings, not returning until late at night or in three instances the next morning. Unbearable!

Bender inevitably ended up waiting up for him one night because this just couldn’t stand. What he’d say when Fry got here, he didn’t know nor did he care yet, he’d figure it out in the moment. He didn’t drink while he waited because how could he when Fry disdained his company so much? … Also, it should earn at least some pity points; Fry couldn’t possibly stay mad at him when he was pitifully inebriated, right?

Despite his best efforts though he wasn’t quite as inebriated as he wanted to be when Fry finally returned. He faked it good though, turning his head as Fry opened door and making a pitiful moaning sound.

Fry closed the door behind him with a sigh before turning to look at Bender lying on the couch. “Really Bender? Can’t you just apologize like a normal person?”

“Maybe I don’t want to apologize.” He had sort of been planning on it but… there went that. And now they were probably just going it fight again, great.

But… instead of making a retort, Fry shook his head, rolling his eyes as he turned away. He didn’t spare Bender another glance before moving on to his room. He didn’t even say any variation of ‘goodnight’ like he normally did when going to bed.

Why was he so mad? Bender just didn’t want him dating anyone, especially other robots. That wasn’t that bad. … Okay so maybe it was kind of bad if one didn’t know why Bender felt that way. … Ugh.

With a groan, he rolled over, off the couch and onto his feet. Low on fuel and power due to the time of night, the world swayed around him, almost making him fall over. He shook it off though and stumbled over to Fry’s room with little mishap. He knocked but… got no answer. Not surprising really so instead he just opened the door and poked his head in.

Fry was inside of course, sitting on his bed, half undressed and now giving Bender an annoyed glare. “What do you want? It’s late, I’m trying to go bed.”

That wasn’t a demand to get out so Bender stepped in, closing the door behind him so he could lean back into. “All those times I interfered with your love life it was because I don’t want you dating other robots.”

“Um… what? I’m pretty sure you already made that clear.”

“I don’t have a problem with humans dating robots or whatever I just don’t want you dating other robots, okay?”

“Uh… why specifically me?” He really didn’t get it.

“Are you really going to make me say it?” Bender was probably out of it enough to say it too if he were pushed far enough.

“Say what?” Gosh, while Fry’s stupidity was often charming or worth a good laugh this was just frustrating.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t date people, especially robots, who aren’t me.” If he had to say it any clearer than that he was going to blow gasket.

Fry stared blankly off into the corner of the room as his mind clearly worked through what those words meant. The moment it clicked was clearly visible on his face as he snapped his gaze back onto Bender. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. I know you don’t feel the same or whatever so I’ll just go now. Sorry for messing with your love life, I’ll stop now.” And hate every single second of it but what else could he do?

Careful of his compromised balance, he turned to go. Before he could do any more than grasp the doorknob though…

“Wait,” Fry called him back. “Why didn’t you say that before?”

Having turned back to face him, Bender shrugged. “Why would I when you’re clearly not interested?”

Fry stood up. “What if I am interested though and just never really thought about? Because like… you’re my best friend so I kind of never considered it I guess because you were just the too obvious choice or whatever. And even if I had thought of it, I never would’ve believed you’d be interested.”

“So… are you saying that you are interested?”

“I uh… yeah, I guess now that I’ve thought about it, I am.”

This was an unexpected development but Bender wasn’t going to question his good fortune. “Oh uh… in that case, want to go out for drinks sometime as like a date or something?” Wow, what a way to ask, he really needed some booze and a good sleep to recharge.

With a nod and grin, Fry stepped closer to him. “Sure, sounds like fun!” There was a long almost awkward pause before he continued. “So uh… what now? Do we kiss?”

Bender shrugged because of all the ways he’d ever gotten himself into a romantic relationship this was undoubtedly the most awkward. “Do you want to?”

Fry shrugged too. “It’s late so maybe we should just go to bed talk about this more in the morning. And uh hmmm… I guess since you’re already here you can spend the night in here with me if you like. I even got some beer stashed in the nightstand drawer if you’d like some since uh… I know you need it and stuff.”

“Wow, we haven’t even kissed yet and you’re already inviting me to bed.”

Fry chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess it is kind of weird, huh? I didn’t think we’d actually do anything though I uh…” he looked Bender up and down, “wouldn’t even know how to with you.” Meaning he hadn’t fucked any other robots like Bender had feared; things just kept getting better.

Bender didn’t know how humans worked in that area either, the only one he’d ever actually dated had been just a head in a jar. “We’ll figure that stuff out later. For now, beer and sleep is more than enough.” And maybe he’d trouble Fry for a kiss before they actually fell asleep or in the morning to really seal the deal on whatever their relationship had somehow just become.

#My writing #futurama #frender #fry/Bender #jealousy #drunkenness

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