#you can tell i've been Going Through It by how many angsty fics i have on here yikes

[from-the-clouds]

bad liars (savior complex ii) - joel miller x f!reader

part one | masterlist | song inspo |

Baby, you're a vampire You want blood and I promised...

summary: It's been a month since Joel has last seen you, fully healed since your last interaction. But you haven't spoken...at all. Your radio silence becomes cause for concern when he hears about an outbreak of Infected at the hospital where you work. There's enough explanation in this part that you could read it on it's own, probably, but I'd highly recommend reading part one first to get the full experience. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7.9k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. (porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, age gap. dom/sub dynamics.) Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, canon-typical suffering! Blood mention. Both reader/Joel are insanely emotionally unavailable, and love to lie to themselves and each other! (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: Ya'll loved savior complex and I'm so happy! Literally don't think I've had a fic get that many notes before, i had so many requests for a part two and because it felt like i left things open-ended enough, this came to me pretty easily! It might be the horniest thing I've ever written and also very angsty (what's new?)....but I think you'll like the ending <3 Special to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about my writing and to @zbeez-outlet for the wonderful idea.

Joel exhales and runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair – the tips of which were frozen together from standing outside for so long. It had gotten cold out. Very cold. Boston always did this time of year, and because of it, people stayed in, and crime in the QZ dropped, making it a safer place - though that wasn’t saying much. 

Of course, the cold didn’t stop him from dealing. It did make his job a hell of a lot more difficult, since FEDRA was bored, out looking for trouble, and didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Although today, he must’ve been in luck, because the only sign of FEDRA had been helicopters and tanks that were clearly on a mission, driving to the opposite side of the QZ. Good, he had thought. A distraction. 

Joel leans back against the brick wall of the alleyway, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his ears, stares at the ice in the cracks of the pavement. When he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, he straightens.

The man approaching looks nervously over his shoulder, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his flimsy sweatshirt. Dave, a customer of his for some time. 

“You’re late,” Joel doesn’t bother with a proper greeting.

“I know, I know, I got held up on my way here,” Dave answers, immediately beginning his excuse. “They cleared out the hospital because of an outbreak, that whole area was locked down so I had to take the long way.”

“Outbreak?” Joel tilts his head.

“Infected. I guess a bunch of hospital staff got bit. FEDRA had to go in and put them all down.” 

Joel feels a distant pang of concern somewhere in the back of his head. “How many?”

Dave shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man, that’s all I know. It’s not like they’ll ever tell anyone what actually happened.”

Joel can’t help but think of you. He knows a couple people who work at the hospital, most of them through smuggling, but you’re the only one who he’s really able to bring to mind at the moment.

“So, can we, uh…”

Joel pulls the plastic baggie out from his pockets, fishing out the pills. On his end, Dave produces a wad of credits, his shoulders sagging in relief once they’ve made the trade and the drugs are in his hand. He takes one immediately, shoves the rest in his pocket. “Thanks man, I’ll see you next week?”

Leaning back against the wall, he nods, and watches his customer disappear down the alleyway. 

The second Dave is out of sight, Joel’s chest tightens, and he takes a deep breath. There’s no reason why news of Infected at the hospital should concern him. If FEDRA had been called in – they would’ve gunned down anything that moved until it was under control. He knew, better than anyone, that they would do unspeakable things in the name of keeping order. Innocent people probably died, but the dead can’t get infected.

It had been about a month since Joel had last seen you, after he’d gotten beaten within an inch of his life and ended up on your doorstep, and you were the only person that could help. It hadn’t gone at all how he expected it would – at the end of the day, he had been surprised by your tenderness. 

Still, despite that you’d let him take you on the edge of your bed, legs wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock, he wouldn’t really say that it changed anything about your relationship. He had actually been kind of afraid that it would, that your attitude towards him would shift to something more amicable.

But you hadn’t spoken to him in a month. Joel had told you he owed you one after you stitched him up, and had anticipated that you’d take him up on his offer pretty quickly. There were so many things he could do for you to make your situation better. Maybe you’d need credits…. Medicine…. Food…. Booze… Pills, something, but you haven’t reached out. You could just be biding your time until you really need the favor.

Still, the radio silence takes him aback. He should be relieved that you aren’t talking to him. But nothing? Even if it’s not about a favor…he wants some kind of confirmation that you’d both made a mistake. After all that, did you really expect nothing from him?

It dawns on him there’s now a chance you’ll never speak to him again, because you’re one of the ones that FEDRA killed. Or worse….you had gotten bit. 

Joel passes by the hospital, taking the long way home. Everything is locked down, taped off. There’s a crowd around the place – family members, he assumes, pleading with FEDRA agents for information and getting nothing in return.

“Go home. I’m sure they’ll turn up,” he hears one of them say to a weeping woman. It’s useless to ask for an honest answer, for one of them to actually care. 

Joel could go home. He could crush a couple pills, snort them, and quell the burn with a couple drinks. He could fall into restless sleep and wake up the next day as he always did, go about his business as usual. Survive. One day at a time. 

Would he ever get confirmation that you’re alive? Because at this rate, he’s not sure he’ll ever know either way. 

The feeling is going to linger. He hates it. Were you gone? If you are, he can handle knowing. Its somehow worse not to. 

He tries to justify it to himself. You’re one of his solid connections to the hospital, you’d traded with him for medical supplies before. This is business, really, if he thinks about it that way. If you’re dead, he and Tess need to find someone else to work with. 

Joel decides to take a detour on the way back to his place.

It’s past curfew when he arrives at your apartment, the sun has long since dipped below the horizon and with that comes an even harsher cold. Boston winters, he thinks to himself. If he is capable of missing anything, he’d say he missed Texas. Before all this, the last place he’d be caught dead was on the East Coast. 

Joel raps on your front door. He forgets how shitty your building is, that you sleep here alone every night, listening to your neighbors arguing through the thin walls, shady characters slinking out of shadows in the dimly-lit hallway,

A few seconds pass. When he hears nothing behind your door, he knocks again, a little louder. 

More time passes. He knocks again, louder. Maybe you didn’t hear him. 

Nothing. He does it again. Could you be asleep? His jaw clenches.

Still nothing, and Joel knocks even louder. Maybe you’re not even here, and you work nights, and he’s just missed you as you head out for another shift. But he knows that’s unlikely. Since he’s known you, you’ve never worked nights. So where the fuck were you?

Joel’s pounds on your door, yells your name into its chipping paint. He listens for something, anything, on the other side, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, but he keeps going The side of his fist starts to hurt, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he hears one of your neighbors yelling from the end of the hallway. 

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Joel doesn’t hear exactly where the voice comes from, but it’s enough to snap him out of it. He halts his movements, his forehead falling against hollow wood, and in the silence, hears his heart pounding in his ears. 

“Fuck!” he kicks the wall just outside the frame of your door so hard the drywall gives, leaving a hole behind. “Fuck.”

He stares at the result of his outburst for an undetermined amount of time. You were all alone. To his knowledge, you had no immediate family to inform. Who would be around to remember you? He’d never really know for sure what had happened. 

“Joel?”

He looks up, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. When he sees that it’s you, standing at the end of the hallway, they loosen. 

You look horrible - haggard, tired, your hair tangled and matted. As you move closer to him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders are hunched underneath the weight of your backpack. But once you’re standing in front of him, you straighten, lift your chin. 

“What is this?” you ask. “What are you doing here?”

There’s no animosity in your tone, he thinks. You might be trying to put some in there, but you don’t have the energy to do so, so it just comes out sounding very flat.

Joel realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have a reason. A real reason that wouldn’t….give him away. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks desperately. You do nothing to help.

When he settles in silence, offers you nothing, you just sigh and shake your head. Your teeth are chattering, lips cracked from the cold, and you seem desperate to get into shelter, twisting your key into your lock and opening the front door. Once you step inside, you flick on the lights. He follows you, closes the door behind you both, and locks it.

“Oh, yeah, come on in, I guess,” you say over your shoulder. 

Joel crosses his arms, standing in your kitchen. 

“What, am I in trouble or something?” you ask. “Because if I am, you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve showered.”

“It can wait,” Joel says, and sits at one of your kitchen chairs. 

You shrug off of your backpack and leave it on a chair, then unbutton your coat, tossing it on top. Joel swallows hard when he sees the damage it’s been hiding. Your scrubs are dirty, tattered in some places, one of the sleeves hanging, partially ripped off. And they’re covered in dried blood. It’s smeared on your arms, on the back of your neck. Not yours, he hopes. 

What the fuck happened to you? You don’t turn to see his reaction, don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s going to ask about it. It’s almost like he’s not even there, and you clearly wish he isn’t. 

He realizes then, that he has the confirmation he’s looking for. You made it out alive. He doesn’t actually need anything else from you. And you’ve given him a perfect out. He can leave while you’re in the shower. 

But he doesn’t. Not when he hears the shower start, or the screech of the curtain across the metal rod, the sound of water hitting the basin. He stays there, motionless, until you duck out of the bathroom with your arms wrapped around yourself, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair damp and teeth chattering. 

You pad with bare feet onto the tiled area of the kitchen, brushing past him. 

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks. 

You finally look at him, like you’re surprised he spoke up, or even asked the question. A choked, bitter laugh leaves you, and you shift your attention away from him, reaching into your cabinet for a bottle of bourbon. “Pass.”

You pour yourself a whiskey, and Joel watches you throw it back in one go, your nose scrunching up, your hand clasping into a fist as you take the shot. The taste doesn’t stop you from pouring another drink and gulping that one down, too, without as much of a reaction as the first. It’s only when you start pouring the third that he intervenes, standing and crossing the room to cover the glass with his hand before you can grab it. 

“Slow down,” he says.

“I know you’re not telling me what to do in my own home.” Your mouth opens as you look up at him, incredulous. 

Joel looks past you, shakes his head. He supposes your right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch the self-destructive behavior, which is funny considering how often he engages in it himself. He gives in, removes his hand from your glass. “At least…pour me one. You shouldn’t drink alone.”

Your expression softens slightly, and he’s able to see all the pain you’re hiding, just for a flash, before you turn to retrieve a second glass from your cabinet. 

Once you hand him the whiskey, he sits in the middle of the tiny loveseat you’ve got in your front room, expecting you to sit in the armchair across from it. Instead, you approach with your own drink, nudge his knee with your own, and Joel slides over to make room so you can fall onto the couch beside him. Much closer than he’d expected. 

It’s surprisingly good bourbon, and he wonders how many times you’d wasted it by downing it like you just had, instead of taking your time, savoring. He waits for you to get settled before he speaks again.

“What happened to you?” he tries once more, a little softer this time. 

There’s some contemplation on your end, you look at him for a moment, then at your glass, then back up at him again. He can almost see you trying to figure out how much you’re going to share, but he wants to know everything.

“There was an accident at the hospital,” you answer, finally. 

Joel slings his arm over the back of the couch, angles his body towards where you’re curled up, legs tucked underneath you. I’m listening.

Your voice stays even, blase. “A guard at the border broke protocol…and someone who was infected was brought in. By the time we realized, it was too late….”

“Were you hurt?” 

“Almost.” you say. “I mean, yes, actually, I’m a little scratched up, but…it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”

Your teeth start chattering again. Joel wonders if it’s because of the cold, or your nerves. Figures it’s probably both.

“My coworker turned and I uhm….I had to…” you say into your glass, your free hand flexing like it’s trying to shake off some unpleasant muscle memory. “I had no choice.”

“I understand,” For whatever reason, he spares you from telling the story. To him, taking down Infected was nothing. But to you…“What else?” he presses.

You shrug, avoiding his eyes, one of your arms coming to grip at your opposite shoulder. “I can’t really remember. A bunch of people died. FEDRA came in and just started gunning everything down….” you shook your head, and straightened up.

“I heard about that,” Joel offers.

“Wait…you knew about this?”

“Yeah.”

“So then why are you here, asking m-” the rest of your sentence drops off, your lips parted slightly. The look on your face shifts, slowly. Your eyes narrow. Remorse turns into something more neutral, then into curiosity. “Oh my god….you were worried about me.”

“No.”

“Yes, you fucking were,” your lips curl slightly, it’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close to amusement. 

“No,” Joel defends himself. “I wanted to hear what happened from someone–”

“No you didn’t,” you interject, but he raises his voice to finish his thought.

“–who actually works there, not FEDRA’s propaganda.”

“No you did not. You’re checking up on me. You came over here after curfew to see if I was–”

“Enough,” Joel growls with enough conviction that it shuts you up, and he’s grateful, but its not enough to wipe the self-satisfied look on your face, because it doesn’t.

“What are we, like, friends now?”

He doesn’t answer, and slugs back the rest of his whiskey.

“Or would that be too much for you?” You don’t wait long for him to give you an answer, probably because you know he won’t respond. “I mean, if we’re both being honest–” He definitely wasn’t being honest. “–Today was really fucked up.”

You’re leaning forward now, some of the space between you is gone. And though you’re trying to give the impression that you’re unphased by everything, your hand is clenched tightly around your glass, and you avoid his eyes. It’s painful to watch you resist the urge to trust him. Not that he’s ever given you a good enough reason to – he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it anyways.

“It’s funny…” you say after a while. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to die. At least… not like that. I’ve never felt that before…That’s something, isn’t it?” you ask him. 

Joel looks at you, and is surprised at the vulnerability in your expression, sees you looking for some kind of validation from him. “....It is.” 

You finish off your drink, and put the empty glass on the coffee table, shift closer to him.

“It looks like you healed up okay,” you say, after a spell. “How’s your shoulder?”

“A little sore, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Did you take those antibiotics?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And I can’t even tell you had a black eye.”

“I’m fine,” Joel asserts. 

Another shiver wracks your body, and he can tell this one is actually from the chill – your apartment is cold as fuck, it even is starting to bother him. 

“Don’t you have a heater?”

“Kinda,” you glance over at the radiator in the corner. “Sometimes it works.”

“What do you do when it’s colder than this?” It was only November, things would only get worse. 

You shrug. “I don’t know….just be colder, I guess.”

Joel imagines you curled up in your bed alone, wrapped in a thin comforter, shaking in front of him like you are now. He winces. 

“How long are you going to stay?” you ask, changing the subject.

“I should probably go now.”

You nod, scoot closer. “But maybe…” you trail off, contemplating. 

Joel sits up straighter, prompting you when you don’t speak again. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe you could stick around for a little while longer.” There’s a warm hand, yours, that lands on his thigh, and he recoils like you’ve touched him with a fire iron. He rises to his feet. 

“Hey,” you stand along with him, step in front of him to block the pathway to the door. He could easily get past you, obviously, but it’s not as simple as that. 

Of course he’s fucking thought about what happened the last time he was here – his arms around your waist, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your hands on his shoulders, whining his name. A freak accident, a glitch in the matrix, a statistically improbable thing. 

“What?” he asks as you step forward, the fingers on your free hand sliding into the belt loops of his pants. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, to other places. And you’re still fucking shivering. You look so fucking miserable, he wants to yell at you to put on a coat, to wrap yourself in a blanket, in his arms. 

“Joel,” you say his name softly, tilting your head up, leaning close. And then your hand is on the side of his face, and he realizes you’re fucking pleading with him. He knows what you want, but he has a feeling this isn’t just about sex. You’re looking for comfort, as if he’s capable of giving it. 

“We made a mistake…once,” he tells you. “We’re not going to make it again.”

He says it to hurt you, but it doesn’t work. It’s like you knew it was coming all along. “I knew what I was doing,” you answer, earnest. “Didn’t you?”

Yes. You glance down at his hands, which are squeezed into fists so tightly, his knuckles are white. If he’s not rigid, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to resist. He wants you. God, he wants you. He never thought he’d be able to have you again. 

“I could help you loosen up.”

Joel’s walking on the edge of a one-thousand foot cliff and hoping his foot slips. He wants to surrender. The only thing he thinks might save him is to say the meanest thing he can. Maybe you’d get turned off.

“Listen to yourself,” he says, finding the strength to meet your eyes. “You want me so bad, you sound pathetic.”

“Asshole,” you step closer, your mouth twitches, your lips are inches apart. “Do you think I care what you think about me?”

Joel realizes his plan has backfired. But he really only has himself to blame, he should’ve known better. With you, he’s never in as much control as he wants to be, and deep down, he likes it. 

“Go lie down on the bed.”

It’s the only thing that seems to shock you. “What?” 

“I won’t ask you again,” Joel steps backwards, crosses his arms. “Go lie down.” 

──────

If you told yourself a couple months ago that one day you’d find yourself pinned down by Joel Miller, you’d think it’d be because he was about to kill you. Maybe because you cheated him out of something, maybe because you did something else to piss him off – it didn’t really matter. Regardless of how fucked up it was, that idea would seem more dignified than what was happening now. 

Your back is being pressed deeper into the lumpy old mattress, and he’s on you. His mouth is warm, hot, wet, and dragging down your neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Your hands are itching to reach out, to skate down his torso, trace along his jawline, tug at his hair, but you can’t because he’s got them pinned above you with only one of his own. Anytime you try to fight him, his grip only grows stronger. 

It was shameful, really, but you had asked for this – begged for it, basically. There were a number of reasons why – one of which was to blow off some steam after a near death experience, the other because you’d fucked him before and it had been good, much to your dismay. There was also a third reason that you weren’t interested in acknowledging now. 

After the night Joel had gotten jumped, and you’d taken care of him, everything has changed. It’s a cliche, but true. You’d known what you were doing when it happened, and had no regrets. But it was probably not supposed to happen again, and you tried to keep it that way, more for his sake than anyone else’s. But….he was the one who showed up tonight after he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t nothing.

Joel pulls away from you so abruptly that you gasp, shivering in the wake of his impossible warmth. 

“Sit up,” he instructs, and you turn to find him at the end of the bed, arms crossed. 

You obey, mostly just for the view. You hope to admire him, fresh from kissing you – flush skin, wet lips, tousled hair. Only he’s frustratingly stoic, unsullied – like he hadn’t been touching you at all. 

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. 

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s nothing,” you agree. 

“I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Good,” you watch his shoulders loosen, just a little, and he takes one step backwards, his eyes tracing down your body and then back up. “Strip for me….” 

You aren’t dressed sexy at all, you remember, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. If you had thought this through a little more, you might’ve tried to make it nicer for him. “....Okay.”

“Start with your shirt,” he says, and you grab at the hem, but he snaps at you. “Ah-ah….slower.”

You swallow, nod, and carefully lift the fabric, dragging it up over your stomach, over the swell of your breasts, revealing your tight, thin white tank top. 

“That’s it, nice and slow.” 

Joel’s voice is soft but stern, a low rasp that makes your cunt clench around nothing, and he’s not even touching you. The sweatshirt is pulled over your head, falling somewhere on the crumpled bedspread. 

Languidly, you lean back, shifting your weight to get off the mattress, and Joel palms himself through his jeans. You can see where he’s straining against the denim, and you find it hard to tear your gaze away as you go to pull off your sweatpants. Joel stops you again. 

“Turn around.”

You do, and you’re sure he has a nice view of your ass as you slide them over your hips, bending over to let the fleece pool around your ankles. Slowly, you rise back up, looking at him over your shoulder for approval. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs. Your stomach flips. A month ago, you would’ve done anything to get him to stay away from you, and now, you’re terrified to disappoint him. 

That’s the problem. You’d spent most of the day fighting for your life — literally. But even after standing behind a barricade of heavily-armed FEDRA soldiers outside the hospital, you didn’t feel as safe as you did when you saw Joel at your door. You need him. For now, at least.

“Now the shirt,” he tilts his head towards the mattress, nodding encouragingly.

You get back on the bed, sitting back on your heels, and begin to pull the tank top up. It’s your last layer up top, you’re not wearing a bra, and you’re feeling a little vulnerable with him just watching you, fully clothed and composed, your gaze falling down to look at the threadbare linens. 

“Eyes up,” he instructs. “Look at me.”

Taking in a shaky inhale, you do. It’s not easy. Everything about him looks dark, animalistic. A coiled ball of energy, waiting to pounce.

But, even when you’re bare before him, he doesn’t. 

“Lie back, close your eyes.”

Of course, you don’t refuse, settling your head against the pillows. 

There’s a sound of a belt – his belt, unbuckling, the snap of a button, the dip of the bed where he kneels when he comes to hover over you. Two hands land on top of your thighs, pressing the backs against his denim-clad knees, thumbs pushing your legs further apart. 

And then…nothing. He’s still. He’s still for so long, that you actually think that something’s wrong. When you open your eyes, you’re met with a view of the underside of his jaw. You can just make out the pinched expression he’s wearing as he looks down upon you. Disdain, maybe…but it’s not meant for you, it’s for someone else….him.

“Joel,” you murmur. Instinctually, you reach for his hand.

The second it makes contact, he smacks your hand away so hard your whole body jolts. “I told you to close your eyes.”

“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing them again. 

You are well aware that he’s actively working through shit, probably doing some kind of mental gymnastics to rationalize why it’s okay to fuck you again, which, when you really think about it is kind of….pathetic. It’s the only thing that makes you feel any sort of power in a situation where you’ll surrender everything else. It’s a fair exchange. 

Maybe, on a different day, you would want it softer. You’d like to think he’s capable of that, even though he seems determined he isn’t. Luckily, you don’t want it softer. After today, you want to be so far gone you can’t think. 

Joel answers by leaning down and catching you in a bruising kiss. Finally. You press yourself against him cause you’re freezing and he’s so warm, and you frantically begin to unbutton the flannel he’s wearing, making it about halfway down before he pins your hands above you again.

“Slow down.”

You whine, a little frustrated because all you want to do is touch him. The fingers on his free hand hook around the elastic of your underwear, and he starts to drag them over the curve of your ass. 

He’s got to be joking with how deliberately he’s moving, anticipation only building underneath his featherlight touches.

When he’s got your panties around your ankles, you slide your legs together so he can pull them off entirely, keeping them closed as his weight shifts, and your thighs are pulled back apart.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he doesn’t need to feel you to see it clear as day, with you spread open in front of him. “So fucking desperate.”

He’s all-but glaring at you, like you’ve done something wrong, and for a minute, your eyes flick away, just for a second of relief from the tension.

“What, are you embarrassed?” he asks. 

“N-no,” you stammer, though it was supposed to sound confident. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t press you, his head dipping down to press his lips to your knee, then an inch higher, then an inch higher, then higher – keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time, an arm winding around your thigh.

“I wanted to do this last time.” A confession. 

“Yeah?” you sigh, trembling. It’s maybe the nicest thing he’s said to you, but you can’t even acknowledge it, because you’re buzzing.

He turns his face, his beard scraping along sensitive skin. “Mhm,” his deep rasp vibrates directly to your cunt, and when his head dips down, you close your eyes – it might just be better to focus on only one sensation at a time, you’re not sure you can handle seeing what he’s about to do.

Joel’s mouth is on you the second you do, and you gasp. He licks up the seam of your lips, mouth latching around your clit, swirling with his tongue, and back down – firm, determined, practiced. You try to buck up, but he has an arm locked around your hips. 

He removes himself from you just enough to utter two words. “Stay still.”

You want to protest, but you realize that he’s let go of your hands, and it gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers into his hair, while you dig your heels into the broad expanse of his back, and he groans, tongue curling into you. 

“I’ve thought about this,” you gasp, answering his earlier admission.

“When?”

“At night. More than once.”

“Fuck,” Joel growls, and you wheeze when he works one finger into you, forcing you to take it along with his next words. “You know how fuckin’ bad that is? Dreamin’ about a man nearly twice your age?”

“I d-don’t care, I want you anyway. Y-you can do whatever you want to me,” It’s too early to be past the point of speaking coherently, it really is, but you’re already there. 

“F-fuck,” Joel repeats himself, and pushes another finger inside you next to the first, the stretch almost uncomfortable, but quickly fading to pleasure. “I’m going to.”

You’re not the going to tell him, though, that he’s the first man whose ever gone down on you, because you’re a little fucking scared for some reason. It’s intimate, very intimate, more than you expected. 

The truth is, you weren’t actually very experienced at all. You could count on one hand the number of partners you’d had, and still not use all of your fingers. While some of them were good enough, they all paled in comparison to Joel. There had never been anyone like Joel. 

His fingers curl as his tongue swirls around your clit and you cry out, inhale sharply. Minute by minute, you’re getting wetter and wetter – can hear yourself with each twist of his fingers inside you, bearing down on him. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, and your eyes flutter open just for a second, just to see his forehead, dark eyes staring back at you, and his hips dipping, rutting against the mattress. God he’s getting himself off to this. As hot as it is, the thought of not getting to feel him inside you causes a rush of anger. 

“F-feels so good,” you’re right there, already, and it’s pitiful.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says. “You’re already so close, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, you just nod, gasping. Joel works you right up to the precipice, hands tightening in his hair, hips lifting off the bed – and then he slows a little –  just enough – to pull you back off the edge, and you let out a humiliating sob.

“Shhh!” he hisses with his mouth still on you, resuming the steady pace he had going. A little sigh of relief when you feel your release approaching again. He just lost his rhythm for a moment, it was nothing.

Again, he’s got you right there, you’re so close, hips jerking, breathing in short, sharp pants, something molten working its way up your spine. “Joel, that’s it, please I-”

He falters again – just enough. And it’s gone again.

You realize, with dismay, that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He hadn’t lost his rhythm. He’s doing this on purpose. 

If someone asked – not that anyone would – you wouldn’t be able to recall how long he keeps you in that state, being dragged and dangled, but denied the privilege of falling. It’s torture. 

And at first, you try to be patient. You figure he’ll grow tired, desperate, and eventually want to move on. But apparently, he doesn’t want to move on. He’s content to keep you this way for as long as he sees fit, and you can’t handle it any longer. It’s starting to hurt.

“Please, Joel, let me-” you gasp.

“Let you what?” he pulls back from you, frustratingly too soon, once again.

“Let me come, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please, please-”

“Just a little longer,” he dismisses you.

All you can do is pant and writhe, completely at his mercy. He keeps going like that, and you’ve stopped trying to filter yourself, the sounds he makes as he laves at you are obscene, you can see yourself glistening on his chin, and can feel the sheets damp beneath you. At this point, he’s enjoying this more than you are.

“Joel,” you plead with him again. “It’s too much, I c-can’t. Just, please I really need-”

“You wanna come for me, baby?” he asks. You nod ferociously. 

“Yes, please, please,” 

“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg, you know that? ” he murmurs. “Wish you were like this all the time.”

“Fuck off,” you manage, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You should do this to me more often. 

Joel chuckles, and it vibrates just right, his fingers curling again and you moan, hands tightening in his hair. He’s focused now, you can tell because the constant stream of filth he’s been whispering has finally stopped. He’s persistent.

You’re unable to stay quiet, continuing to whimper just like that and please don’t stop over and over. And then all at once, every muscle in your body grows tense and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him so tightly that his fingers slow. “There you go, pretty girl, that’s it.” 

You whisper his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, riding you through your orgasm and licking up the mess you’ve made. 

At some point in the aftermath, Joel withdraws from you, and you hear the sting of his zipper. It takes a moment, but you’re able to see him through heavily lidded eyes, kneeling in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned all the way, pants around his ankles, jerking himself slowly in his hand. God he’s fucking huge, how had you forgotten about that? He’s a vision, beard still wet with you, looking down, watching your chest rise and fall. In that moment you realize two things. One, even though you’ve already come, you somehow want him even more than you had before, and two, you’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your life. 

So you sit up, crawl towards him, and reach out with one hand to take him in your palm. He lets you, sighing, closing down his eyes. First, you have to kiss him, so you rise to your knees, and he pulls you into his arms, one of them winding around your waist, the other coming to rest at the small of your back. “You take such good care of me,” you whisper. 

He grimaces at the words like they’re an insult. You expect him to retaliate, to tell you that you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, but he never does. So you kiss him, gently, bringing your free hand to the side of his face. Once again, he lets you, and you taste yourself when his tongue presses into you mouth. You run your thumb over the head of his cock, and he hums against your touch, almost contentedly.

You’re doing whatever you want to him, and you’re shocked he hasn’t put a stop to it. It could be satisfying enough, you think, just to keep kissing him like this. Still, you sink back towards the bed to test things further. You’re about to wrap your mouth around him, but he pulls you off by your hair, so quickly, so hard that you yelp.

“No.” he says firmly. “Lie back.”

“But I just wanted to-”  

“No.” 

You consider trying to reason with him, but decide it won’t be worth whatever he’d do if you continue to argue.

Joel braces himself with one hand above your shoulder, the other wrapped around his cock, slowly teasing you by rubbing himself up and down a few times, before he gives in, finally pushing into you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp at the stretch, reaching out grasp at his bicep, arching your back. He’d prepped you, and it was still too much. 

“You can take it,” he says, pressing deeper into you. His hips are all the way flush with yours, he’s to the hilt, and he still snaps them even further, once, holding you there, so deep, you feel like you’re choking on him. “See? There you go.”

It seems like you can’t quite catch your breath, and you squirm underneath him for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from how intense it all is. You can feel him throbbing inside you, feel how badly his own body is begging him to move, but he doesn’t. 

“Joel,” you cradle the back of his head, look him in the eyes. “Move, please.”

He doesn’t answer, he just brings his hand to grip your jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. 

“Please?” you murmur again, and his thumb slips into your mouth, silencing you. You suck on it obediently, and after you do, he finally gives you what you want.

──────

Joel told you he wouldn’t be gentle, and he isn’t. 

He hadn’t been able to do this last time. Taste you, spread you open, fuck you properly. His hips snap against yours – ferociously, unrelenting, over and over. You’ve been going at it for awhile now, and he actually wants you to break. He wants you to tell him to slow down, to be a little more tender, not press into you so deep, so hard, so that if he listens, it wouldn’t mean he’s breaking his own promise. He’s got to be rough with you, because he’s afraid of what could happen if he’s not.

But you don’t break. You fucking take it, take him, each time, again and again, your nails digging into arms, your legs locked around his hips. Each time he delves into you, you’re getting wetter and wetter, and yet, you’re still so fucking tight. He doesn’t understand it. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s been with a woman like you – and you might be the best he’s ever had. 

You’re not even making any noise – you’re just panting, gasping in Joel’s ear as you cling to him, and that’s all. He can’t even look you in the eyes. If he does, he knows you’ll see everything that’s wrong with him, and still beg for him to give you more. 

Two hands land on either side of his face, turning his head so you can kiss him. Despite how he’s treating you, you keep trying to connect, to ground yourself. For as much as he wants to refuse, it feels too cruel to deny you. He lets you lock your lips with his own, feels your cunt clutch him even tighter. It’s impossible for you to kiss for more than a few seconds at a time without it getting broken up by a whimper here and there. You’re getting close again, he’s started to get better at recognizing it.

“You’re fucking so perfect on me, baby, you feel that?” he asks, and you nod, breathless. “Taking me so well, such a good fucking girl-”

A gasp from you cuts him off, your eyes squeezing shut as you are taken over by your climax. Joel groans and does everything he can not to come when you start pulsing around him, holding him closer, since there’s nothing else to do. It’s way too intimate…because it’s missionary, and he should’ve known better than to start off like this. 

Pulling out of you is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and he ignores your noises of protest now that he’s left you empty. Then, he flips you onto your stomach. He takes a moment to admire the curve of your ass, how it dips into your waist….to him, your body is perfect, and you’re young, your skin still supple and smooth. There are still places he hasn’t gotten his mouth on, and it’s a shame, he thinks, but tonight his patience is wearing thin. Joel pulls you back until you’re on your knees, and slides back inside. There’s a little resistance, you whimper, but it’s easier than the first time. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other across your chest, and starts to jerk his hips upwards, into you. 

“Oh fuck, Joel,” you sigh in relief.

“I know, I know.”

You drop your head back until it falls against his shoulder, winding your arm back so you can pull at his hair, which kind of fucking hurts, but he likes it. 

Ultimately, you’re pretty easy to please, and it’s not long before he feels the telltale flutter of your walls as you drip down over him, soaking his lap. 

“You’re making a fucking mess, baby. You gonna come for me again?”

All you can do is plead with him. “I can’t, Joel. I can’t do it again, please just-”

“Yes, you can,” he interjects. “I know you can, baby, don’t worry…I’ll help you.”

“O-okay.’ 

He slows the roll of his hips just a little, focuses on deeper, longer strokes, and lets the hand that’s currently squeezing one of your tits fall to where your bodies are joined, finding your clit immediately.

You whine, arching back against him, the swell of your ass packed against his lower stomach. He sees a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye and feels a little guilty for what he’s doing to you. Only a little, though. 

Without any warning, for the third time, you’re coming around him – easier than the last time, like always – and he uses the feeling of you throbbing around him to chase his own release, his hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your moans as he becomes increasingly frantic. 

He turns his head, rakes his teeth along your exposed neck, and sinks them into your pulse point with a groan. Your breath is hot against him when you whimper in response. 

“Just a little more, honey.” He’s so close. You bob your head, though you’ve nearly gone limp in his arms.

Like last time, Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he’s not going to pull out. The thought of deliberately coming inside you is actually what sends him over the edge, and he’s cursing and moaning your name. You whine at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you, arching back for more, even though he can tell you’re exhausted. 

It’s fucking freezing in your apartment, and yet, his skin is damp with sweat when he finally regains some awareness of his surroundings. He’s panting, you’re sniffling, a weak smile on your face as you catch your breath. Before he can stop himself, he presses his lips to your cheek. 

Joel tilts you both forward – very tentatively, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. At some point, your hand settled over top of his, and you threaded your fingers between his own, holding his hand across your stomach. You keep it there, even after you’ve settled onto the bed.  

It takes a few minutes before either of you move, but it’s you who gives in first, wriggling out from where he’s got you trapped partially underneath him. 

You retreat to the bathroom, like you did last time. Somewhere during your coupling the linens have slid down the bed, and Joel settles back against the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head.  Now that he’s stopped sweating, he’s just cold, and he reaches to pull the bedspread over him. He should leave, he thinks, before you come out and ask him to. Beat you to the punch. Maybe while you’re still in the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, and you return from the bathroom, dressed again in sweats. He hears you pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. You flick off the lamp on your bedside table, and fall into bed next to him, lying rigidly on your back. He should reach out, pull you against him, let you settle in his arms. Instead, Joel rolls over on his side. 

It’s terrible how beautiful you are, he thinks, watching you stare up at the ceiling, hugging yourself. So beautiful, and fucking smart. You’re strong, too, but not as strong as he wishes you were. Of course, no one could ever be that strong.

He whispers your name. You turn your head, pupils still blown wide with lingering lust.

“You need to learn to defend yourself, to shoot a gun, to fight,” he says. “After today.”

“What?” you roll to face him. 

“You said you didn’t want to die,” Joel continues. “So you need to learn. ‘Case something like that happens again.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, you’re gonna teach me?” your voice is a little hoarse after what he’d done to you, and you smirk at him.

“Yes.” It sobers you up, that he’s not fucking with you, or giving you a hard time. “I owe you, remember?” 

“You do.” 

“So…. I’ll teach you.” 

“....Okay.” 

“Alright.”

Joel rolls over to his opposite side, and you’re left staring at his back. Arms wrapped around 

himself in a tight hug, he waits for you to tell him to go.

You never do. 

Instead, he feels the heat of your body as you curl up against him, slotting one of your legs between his own. Your hand grazes up his ribs, over his bicep – a gentle, quick massage – before you tuck your arm underneath his own, your palm flat against his heart. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen at how tender the embrace is. It’s a foreign feeling, he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this. 

The tip of your nose hits the nape of his neck, and he can feel your shuddery exhale.

“I’m cold,” you say, like it’s obvious, lips brushing featherlight against his skin. “And if you’re staying, you might as well make yourself useful.”

He can’t roll over and wrap his arms around you. He can’t kiss your forehead or play with your hair or murmur into your ear. He can’t offer you anything in return. Joel decides, though, if he’s going to accept comfort from anyone, it’s going to be from you.

──────

taglist (basically if you asked for a pt 2 on the last part i tagged you): @bbyanarchist @dlwrish @imaginewrites24 @captain-yellow-96 @daisyintheskyewithdiamonds @sludgec0r33 @c0wb0ym3nace

[rwrbficrecs]

First monthly faves for 2024 !! ❤️

Leave a message by @sherryvalli (book-verse)

@dot524: In the mood for some cute, heart-melting fluff? This is a one-shot that recounts Alex’s voicemail messages over the years from those who care about him - including Henry.

would you be my love, my love? (would you be mine) by ohprongs (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: a strictly come dancing AU with a lot of feelings that I've been thinking about ever since i read it!!!

even though we know it isn't true by @matherines (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: for everyone struggling with academic pressure, or anyone, really. it's pretty sad but of course there's comfort personified in Henry!!

beyond infatuation, how obsessively i adore you by @waterloolovers (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: a new fandom classic if you ask me. Henry works at the daycare Alex's daughter goes to and their relationship progresses really naturally. the kid content in this fic is some of the cutest i have ever read and this is the perfect fic to go on your reread list for comfort.

And They Were Roommates by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex and Henry get to know themselves and each other after they move in together. This story is not sugarcoated at all, very realistic - just how life is, and so so sweet. Also, unfortunately, rather short, but still worth the read - as are many other stories by this author, such as the 'Las flores' series.

Spirit of the Season by @pridepages (book-verse)

@heybuddy-drabbles: A little late to the game but I finally read E.J's Christmas story. Her way of story telling doesn't disappoint in this shorter tale (by her standards). It's not lighthearted and it touches some difficult topics (mostly canon) but it's all worth it because of the way they fall in love through Christmas Eve/night. Can't recommend it enough!

Where There Are Octobers by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: 31 short chapters that are just really fun to read! Some are post-canon or canon-compliant, others are AUs - but in all of them the characters are so beautifully drawn, true to how we know and love them! A vet AU, a hospital AU, major fluff, even an X-Files AU - and who knows, maybe one or two dribbles will turn into more?! Fingers crossed!

The Art of Losing by bigfishbigpond (book-verse)

@dot524: If you think the mid-story breakup should have been longer and more angsty, here’s the story for you. An interesting and heartfelt story of what Henry and Alex are like apart, and what pulls them back together.

I know that you hate me (Do you though?) by @arand0mdutchgirl (book-verse)

@magnificentandcoolfez: A bit of good ADHD angst (with some comfort ofc). I like the focus on how hard adhd can be and it's a short and good read for those who like comfort that comes in the shape of your crush holding you until you feel grounded again.

blushing ears and beating hearts by @kill8a (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This story is not just slow burn, it is glacial burn. It's an college AU, set in New York, and so slow, so tender, so fluffy - after reading it I was floating on cloud 9 for quite a while. I don't know if you feel the same way, but it's funny how changing one given variable somehow changes the whole dynamic between the two of them. Or is it just me?! Either way, it's so wholesome to tag along as their love blossoms, I still feel so hugged and cared for.

all so human with our guards down by @maxbegone (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: a post-apocalyptic story that is unlike any other. There are no zombies or gore, but instead it focuses on rebuilding and the softest love growing between Alex and Henry, surrounded by family and friends. I kinda wanted to live there by the end of it.

The Snow Prince by @orchidscript (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: several fairy tale tropes meet to create this absolutely amazing story. It has dreaminess of a fable, best kind of yearning of your favourite slow burn fics and a little bit of adventure of a fantasy novel.

but to say that I'm a rainbow, to tell me that I'm bright (when I'm so used to feeling wrong, well, it helps me feel alright.) by What_Is_A_Mild_Opinion (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: Fandom is really sleeping on this one! This story is a canon rewrite with characters reimagined as creatures with animal characteristics. The wordbuilding is so fantastic that even if you are not a fan of long fics following canon step by step, it's absolutely worth to check this even for a chapter or two and get to know these wonderful versions of Alex and Henry. (Alex is literally rainbow.)

safe with me / more than I ever (in a thousand years)by @indomitable-love (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I think the author is very well known among all rwrb fanfic readers. I really, really liked these two stories, like a lot: Two 5+1 fics, one from Pez's point of view, the other from Bea's - unfortunately both characters are given too little attention in the book imho. As expected, both narrators are sharply observing, protective of Henry, loving, honest, tender - and you end up loving Henry (and Alex) even more.

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[fandomrose]

Furina post 4.2 reverse comfort.

Hi again. A Furina post 4.2 reverse comfort. I've been working on this for a depressingly long time.

There is implied spoilers but not many. This is also friends to probably, eventually lovers. Starting with the friends in this fic.

This is alot more angsty than the Neuvillette one. It does have descriptions of injury and disassociation. I drew on my own experiences with my own disassociation and helping others through theirs.

I really wanted to do one for Furina because I wish to hug the poor woman. She's been through too much.

I hope you enjoy 💙

You clutched bags filled with cooking ingredients. Ever since learning that your 'former' Lady Furina was living off of macaroni from a certain blonde haired traveller and 'talkative' flying pixie. You decided to pay her a visit, said flying pixie freely telling you where she lived.

Nerves coursed through you. It had been a few weeks since you had seen Furina. Since the prophecy had 'not' come to fruition your services as a private investigator for 'solutions for the prophecy' was no longer needed. And when Furina stepped down from her position as Hydro Archon you stopped seeing her. 

'Diva archon' is what people called her but you knew her better than that. You can't have claimed to be close but, you had seen glimpses of the hidden care and love she had for the nation she governed. True god or not you saw glimpses of all she sacrificed over your few years working under her. You had grown fond of her and the trail she was put through almost broke your heart. 

You steeled your nerves before knocking on Furinas door at just past midday. There was silence before you heard rustling, the unlocking of the door and it opened giving you the first look at Furina in 3 weeks. 

She had slight bags under her eyes, she looked thinner and her smile was not as bright as it used to be.

"Why hello, it's certainly been a while since I've seen you,-" she started off attempting the same theatrical countenance she had before but it quickly faded. "Why have you come here and how did you find out where I live?" 

The thought of her finding it worrying that you knew where she lived didn't cross your mind. "The travellers companion may have let it slip my lady." 

She sighed, "Please don't call me that any more just 'Furina' is fine." Her voice now sounded tired, a slight rasp of exhaustion present.

"Alright my- Furina... um," there was an awkward air between you two, one that you were determined to dismiss. "I was wondering if you would like to spend the afternoon in familiar company... I brought food if you'd like to have dinner."

Furinas eyes narrowed slightly. "Did Paimon also tell you that I was living off of macaroni."

You had somehow forgotten how sharp Furina was. "Yes.. but, but I didn't just bring food, I thought I'd teach you to make more dishes other than macaroni. Still quick, easy and involving pasta but different. Also baking bread. I thought it would go well with what we are making...." You felt yourself ramble, trying to convince Furina to give you a chance.

She looked like she was fighting with herself for a moment. You hold your breath waiting for a response. "Okay.. that sounds nice actually." 

You sigh with relief "Alright lead the way my- um- Furina." You watched as she flushed a slight pink before leading you inside. Her home was modestly furnished but well coordinated and clearly to her aesthetic taste. She led you through the short hallway and into her kitchen. It was up to Fontaine’s modern standard with an oven and hobs, a sink and a new cooling machine that was recently invented by the Fontaine research institute for the storage of Fonta, but had been later discovered to increase the shelf life of many different foods. They were currently very expensive however. You wondered how she was able to afford it with no job. Her shelves were almost bare however, it made you glad you came with ingredients and a few extra essentials. 

"Here you can put the food on the counter." Furinas gestured to the counter close to the oven. "What are we making?" 

You nod and pull the ingredients out. "I thought a cottage pie and some garlic flat bread would be a good start. I also brought the ingredients to make some simple crěpes for dessert." 

"Great ... I don't know how to make any of that, are you sure you want to bother teaching me?" 

"Of course Furina, why would I bring all this if not to teach you." 

"I guess you're right, so what are we starting with?" Her voice was hesitant, you begin to wonder if she was really up to this. What if you were pushing her too hard?

"Ah I thought we'd start by preparing the bread.."

You show her the steps of baking bread. She follows your instructions diligently, her smile broadening and confidence returning with every step she gets right. "This isn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Then again of course I could learn anything I put my mind to."

Seeing her smile again was all you wanted out of today. If you were being truthful with yourself. 

"Now we let the dough rest for about 45 minutes.. in the meantime let's prepare the potatoes for the mash that'll go on top of the shepherd's pie."

You teach her how to peel a potato with a paring knife. Or rather you try to. As she pulled back the knife her hand slipped on the potato and she nicked her palm with the knife, a long thin line of blood appearing on her palm. You were focused on your own potato when you heard her yelp in pain. You immediately drop the knife and potato you were peeling and rush to her side assessing the damage.

"Furina! What happened?" You gently grab her hand looking at the wound. "Where is your first aid kit?" She didn't speak, only pointed to a cupboard on the other side of the room, her eyes glued to her wound, pearls of tears collecting in the outer corners of her eyes and all you want to do is draw her into your arms. 

But first the wound, you gather the first aid kit and sit Furina down at the table in the kitchen and quietly bandage her hand. The cut wasn't deep, which was good, but she barely flinches as you clean the wound, which was a point of concern. You sense she's not up for criticism or questions so you keep things to yourself while you finish bandaging her hand. 

I take a deep breath and try to talk to her again now that the wound is dealt with. "Furina? Are you up for continuing or would you like me to take over?" She didn't respond immediately seemingly not even hearing you, you are about to attempt to get her attention again when-

"No. You- you take over." She sounded exhausted again, and almost defeated. Worry crawls through your stomach all the way up into you throat but you hold back for now. Not quite sure how to deal with this Furina.

"Alright." Is all you can say, softly as not to startle her. As you continue prepping the meal peeling the potatoes, boiling them in milk for extra creaminess and seasoning with salt and pepper. You start up another hob and cook the meat, frying off the fat before adding, flour, worcestershire sauce, a splash of red wine, tomato paste, chopped bell peppers and onions. While the mixture reduces you prepare the dough Furina made earlier, spreading a mixture of garlic butter rosemary and thyme over the dough and place it in the oven. 

You catch Furina glancing at you while you work. You turn off the heat on the meat and take some of it from the pan in a small spoon and carefully carry it over to her. "Would you like to taste test Furina?" She looked up at you in surprise before nodding slowly. You offer the spoon to her and she leans forward and closes her mouth around it without taking it out of your hands. 

A moment of silence, while you might usually feel flustered at this kind of action. But with Furina seemingly still out of it, not registering what she'd done, it was just concerning. You take the spoon away and turn around.

"Is it good?"

A tired "Yea" is the only response you get. It'll do for now. You finish off the cottage pie by arranging it in a dish putting the meat and veg mixture, then the creamy mash before sprinkling a generous helping of parmesan cheese over the top of the mash and putting in the oven for 20 mins. The bread is almost ready to take out and could make a good starter. 

You set a time and sit by Furina, slightly awkwardly, not knowing what to say. You'd been so focused on your tasks you hadn't realised how strange it felt to be around Furina in a casual setting and especially not when something seemed to be bothering her so greatly.

"Furina.. How's your hand?"

"It's fine, doesn't hurt much anymore."

Your concern was beginning to reach a peak. She couldn't look at you for some reason. And her voice was so weak it was barely there but you don't know what to do without crossing an unspoken boundary or making things worse. 

The bread timer goes off. You rise from your seat to take it out, putting it on a rack to let it cool for a few minutes. 

You look over at Furina, her form slumped and defeated looking, her eyebags somehow more prominent than when you started. You didn't understand what could have made her this way. Overall yes, you were there at her trial after all, at the end of it you were just happy she wasn't actually executed. But what happened today? Was it the injury? But why would that cause a near catatonic dissociation? 

You didn't want to push, instead you just cut up the bread and offered her a piece, on a small plate, in the hopes that some form of stimulation would reawaken her. She slowly picks at the bread, putting small pieces in her mouth. 

The second timer goes off. The cottage pie is ready, so you remove from the oven, find two large plates and serve the food.

She looks up at the food and picks up the fork, slowly digging in to the cottage pie. You watch with interest hoping maybe food would perk her up at least a little. And perk up she does. Finally a smile graces her face, small but there.

"This is lovely, thank you. Truly a meal worthy of the great Furina De Fontaine." She made an attempt at her energetic performance but was still tired it seemed. 

You smile at her in what you hope is a pleasant and reassuring manner. "Well my lady I am glad it's worthy of your greatness."

She laughed that same haughty laugh you'd grown to enjoy hearing even if it was a little strained with exhaustion.

"Would my lady enjoy some crêpes to cleanse her palette of savoury tastes?"

"Yes, a batch of crêpes sounds wonderful my humble chef." 

You stand and bow hoping this play was helping her recover from whatever state she was in. Turning to make a small batch of crěpes you don't notice the way she slumps in her seat.

You dust the crêpes in powdered sugar, lemon juice and fill them with cream and chopped fruit. A plate of two crěpes is placed in front of Furina with a smile. Your smile fades seeing her downtrodden look again. 

"La- Furina? Is everything okay?"

"It should be... but it's not" was her response. You watch as tears slip down her cheeks. She tries to quickly wipe them away. "Ahhahaha.. how silly, I don't know why.. an overflow of hydro yes it must be."

You walk round the table and stand by her. "Furina, you can tell me what's wrong. You- you don't have to hide anymore." 

It seems that small push was all it takes for her to allow herself to break. She turns and practically falls into your arms and sobs. "It was going so well. But then I messed up again. I really am useless" She cried into your arms, her sentences broken up by bouts of heartbreaking sobs.

Saying anything felt like a bad idea for now so you remove her hat and simply stroke her head while she cries into your chest. You don't know how long it takes but you patiently wait for her tears to dry and her sobbing to subside. Grabbing a soft handkerchief you lift her face and dab at her cheeks. You watch her eyes widen as if she realised she was actually crying into a living person rather than a plushie. 

"I- I-" 

"Furina, it's okay.. you aren't useless and you are still learning right. You have no idea how many cuts and burns on my arms and hands I have scars for just from cooking. Hahaha. It happens my lady. But if I may be so bold, it's not about the accident is it?"

You pause before speaking again, not wanting her to have any excuses you make sure to beat her to the punch.

"Have you mourned yet? Your status as an archon? Your position in Fontaines elite? Your friendship with Monsieur Neuvillette? Anything else I am not privy to."

It wasn't the most elegant way to put it. Some might call it cruel but she needed to confront this in order to move on.

You begin to regret your decision when you see Furina hang her head and cry again, much more subdued this time. You open your mouth to apologise but-

"You're right... I've been ignoring it all instead of dealing with it. I thought I could just move on, and 'improve myself' and everything would be okay."

She spoke so harshly of her own thoughts. You shake your head and sigh.

"Don't be mean to yourself Furina. Your only mistake was isolating yourself, but if I may be so bold, again, I'm here. And I want to help you, I've always liked spending time with you so I'd be more than happy to be your friend."

She began to sob again. "You want to be my friend? You'll stay by my side even when I'm like this.." 

"Yes Furina, that is what I want. As long as you want it to." You open your arms letting her hug you again. She was crying, but at least her tears were happy this time.

This was probably the start of something wonderful.

[yxlnst]

Hello! i hope youre having a great day/night

I’ve recently read your fics and i do truly love them, i was here to request something if you dont mind. Feel free to ignore this if its uncomfortable for you!!

I honestly LOVE heavy angst but fluff at the end lmao, could you maybe write something rreeallllyyy angsty with jun, but with a fluff ending? I can’t really come up with good ideas tbh, but maybe a huge argument? Honestly i dont know i just cope with these stuff so anything is fine lol.

Thank you so much if youre seeing this!! Have a great day/night

ofc!! And thank youu aswell, also if the story was not what you had in mind please tell me!! Now lets focus on the ff :DDD

Rebuilding Us

idol!Jun x reader!Y/n

Angst + Fluff

🧸 Word count 🧸 : 664

🎀 Summary : Argument drives you and Jun apart. Reconciliation brings the two of you back together stronger.

🧸 - - - - - - - - - - - - 🎀 - - - - - - - - - - 🧸

Jun stood in the living room, tension crackling in the air like a live wire. You had been arguing for hours, and now, exhaustion and frustration were beginning to take their toll.

"I just don't understand why you can't see it from my perspective!" Jun's voice was raised, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the intensity of the argument.

You crossed your arms, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. "And I don't get why you're always so quick to dismiss my feelings! It's like you don't even care!"

His eyes softened for a brief moment before the anger flared up again. "That's not fair, and you know it. I care more than you realize, but this—" he gestured between the two of you, "this is tearing us apart."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and hurt. You both stood there, breathing heavily, trying to process everything that had been said. The emotional distance between you seemed insurmountable.

"I just… I need some space," you finally whispered, the words cutting through the tension like a knife. "I can't keep doing this."

Jun's face fell, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability behind his anger. "So, what? You're just going to walk away?" His voice was quiet now, laced with pain.

You turned away, unable to look at him. "I don't know, Jun. Maybe we both need time to figure things out."

As you walked to the door, you heard him sigh deeply. "I don't want to lose you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't keep fighting like this either."

You paused, your hand on the doorknob, and looked back at him. The sight of him, standing there with a mixture of desperation and sadness, made your heart ache. "I need to think," you said softly. "I hope you understand."

Days passed, and the space between you and Jun felt like a chasm. You missed him terribly, but the arguments had left scars that were slow to heal. One evening, as you sat on the couch, lost in thought, your phone buzzed with a message.

Y/n can we talk? I miss you.

You hesitated, your heart racing. After a few moments, you typed back a simple reply.

Okay.

That night, you met at the park where you had shared so many happy memories. Jun was already there, pacing nervously. When he saw you, he stopped, his expression a mix of hope and fear.

"Hi," he said softly.

"Hi," you replied, equally nervous.

There was a long silence before Jun spoke again. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said. About how I dismiss your feelings. You're right. I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I didn't really listen to you."

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding. "I wasn't fair either. I should have tried to understand where you were coming from instead of just getting defensive."

Jun stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. "I don't want to fight anymore. I want us to work through this. Together."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded. "Me too. I hate being apart from you, Jun."

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. "I love you. More than anything. Let's not give up on us."

A tear slipped down your cheek as you squeezed his hand. "I love you too. Let's start over."

Jun pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he was afraid to let go. The warmth of his embrace felt like coming home. In that moment, all the pain and anger melted away, replaced by the promise of a fresh start.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy. But as long as you had each other, you were ready to face anything together.

The night sky above was clear, the stars shining brightly as if celebrating your reunion. And as you walked hand in hand, you both knew that the love you shared was stronger than any argument, ready to face whatever came next, together.

[tblsomedoodles]

I

C R A V E

more Donnie VS The World content. It makes me vibrate and scream and wiggle like I'm off my meds. I would love anything, even a solid block of text, but your doodles/full artworks/comics are my favorite.

Please? All I've found so far is what we see in the donnieverse comic and the MVA/AMV (music video animatic/animatic music video). So many questions, like - is Casey (Sr) involved in any way, whethercas a fellow captive or rescue mission teammate? Is this the True Apocalypse or Averted Apocalypse timeline? If the latter, where is Casey (Jr)? How is Splinter handling it? (Is he even still alive to be Having Emotions About It?)

(Please feed me.

B L E A S E)

(If you don't mind, could you show/tell how Donnie escapes, one of his first Big Leads that gives him so much hope he cries, and/or the Big Reunion? One would be nice, two would be great, and all three would be amazing. If they aren't planned/are too spoilery, that's okay. Anything you can/are willing to give would be lovely.)

Thank you!! I'm glad you like it : ) I don't think I've answered many asked about this particular au, so i'm more than willing to talk about it! : )

I don't really have much up for it, mostly b/c it deals with a lot of angsty material that i can be a little uneasy about posting. I have a bit of old concept art, and an unposted fic i'm editing/rewriting (b/c it's the first fic i wrote for Rise and i did not have those character voices down lol.) I can probably post the first bits of it later this week. I did say at one point that i would once 'proud family tradition' was over, and it now is.

but yeah, here's the concept art, i'll put the explanation under the break b/c i'm going to be rambling lol.

So Donnie vs. takes place after the thwarted apocalypse (not-apocalypse future). They get taken by Bishop a few months afterwards, and it isn't until about a year after that, that Donnie gets free.

He's the last one still with Bishop at that point, and had been told/convinced through various means that his brothers were dead.

Bishop did a lot of experiments on him, leaving a lot of scaring. One of which was injecting him with Krang DNA to see what would happen. (the eye and veins thing. I think he has some side effects from that but i'm not entirely certain what they are atm)

The fic itself starts after his rescue, b/c i'm focusing on Donnie's search for his brothers (and his own recovery) Rather than the traumatic event itself.

The rescue itself, was certainly a rescue. April, Casey, and CJ worked together to get him out of there as well as gain whatever information they could before they were found out. (Casey went undercover and was able to get some incomplete files and help get donnie out before she was discovered and had to leave.)

donnies in...pretty bad shape at that point, mentally and physically. Physically, he's malnurished, injured, scared, the works. Bishop did a number on him in the year he had him.

Mentally, he's pretty much shut down. He's completely non-verbal, unresponsive most of the time, when he does respond it's very slow and seemingly difficult for him to do so. He describes it that it feels like he's behind several plates of thick glass. He can see and hear what's happening, interacting (or even just feeling anything about it) is very hard to get past the glass.

How he goes from that state to hunting down his brothers is fairly simple. One of the broken, encripted files Casey acquired was Leo's file. None of the three could open it, but they managed to get Donnie to try to do so. He manages it, sees the file, and for the first time in about a year, has hope. He doesn't even wait to show the other three, he just takes off while no one was looking, with April's laptop and CJ's coat (he steals a backpack along the way.)

I don't really want to say much past that. A lot of the rescues/reunions are pretty spoiler heavy, and i don't want to ruin some of the mystery of what's going on in the fic. But know this, he does get all his brothers (and family in general) back. Also, splinter is alive and is part of this, but again, that's spoilers for some things i don't want to ruin.

Again, i'll probably start posting this sometime this week. It's an interesting fic that i've put quite a bit of time into at this point, so i'll be excited to see what is thought of it.

Thank you!

[hualian-fic-recs]

I'm alive/Fanfic Asks

Hey sorry I've been silent for so long. To be completely honest, Hualian and tgcf aren't the only types of fanfic I read, so I go down rabbit holes with other pairings for a while.

Anyway, I've been sitting on some asks for a while hoping I could answer them one day, but alas. I am turning them over to the public to see if others can help!

@nostalgiatyrant asks:

Hi again 👋 Im looking for another fic, but this time, the description comes from a friend. They said that “after the altar scene wu ming takes care of xie lian as he heals. Xie lian is like traumatized and dazed mostly so wu ming is doing his best commanding weaker ghosts and etc” It was a tweet, in case you haven’t seen it, and tbh, I love this idea so much— if you find any fics like it at all Id love to read them

Maybe: For you, I'll become invincible by HanaSheralHaminail. 177k, M, WIP. all the spoilers

Maybe: no light, no light by NeithOfTheVeil. 11k, T, spoilers

Maybe: A Long and Slow Recovery by ardenrabbit. WIP

@sineofu asks:

Hello , can you recommend m some fics where the heavenly official realise that hua Cheng have returned or a fic timed after his return. Thank you

anonymous asks:

Is there any fanfics where like the puqi villagers think that they are single and something happens?

anonymous asks:

Can u tell me if there is any hualian Spiderman au fics?? I saw a few fanarts and fell in love with them.

@uwuchengsbab asks:

Do you know any fics where Hua Cheng prays to Xie Lian before his 3rd ascension (during those 800 years) and Xie Lian hears him? Something angsty with a happy ending? I’ve already read what faith provides by parsnipit and it kinda sounds like falling in love by FlowerCitti but was wondering if you knew more?

Maybe: Dearly Departed by IlluminatingSceadugenga. WIP

@bri-bri1222 asks:

I was wondering if there are any fice where HC and XL are in a DDLB relationship and just filled with cuteness and fluff.

anonymous asks:

There's this Hualian fanfic I've never been able to find no matter what. I don't know if the tags are obscure or what. But the premise is that Xie Lian is cursed or to relive his worst injury over and over again at random moments and therefore the Hundred Swords wounds opens on his body unexpectedly and suddenly. The story is very hurt/comfort between Hualian and Hua Chrng looks after him and heals him. A plot point is that it happens in front of Mu Qing/Feng Xin at a temple and they discover the truth about what happened and take Xie Lian to Hua Cheng. I beleve it's multi-chapter. Ling Wen and Jun Wu also make appearances.

Maybe: Old Wounds and Old Friends by HoundsofCerberus. 4k, T, all the spoilers

Similar: A Splinter in the Heart by theearlymorningmist. 14k, T, spoilers

@theladypeartree asks:

Hello!! This might be a tricky one as I'm not sure it exists! Have you or any of your followers found any fics that have A-Yuan and Guzi friendship? I've found many crossovers, but not with the kiddos! Thank you for your hard work! ❤

anonymous asks:

Big spoilers for the later novels in this one: Hey there, I was wondering if there was any fics in which Xie Lian goes through with calling down the human face plague on Yong'an. I can't recall finding any and I'm not sure how to start looking. Thanks!

he who walks in sorrow by atomic muffin. 7k, M, read warnings!

Ok these are some I have been searching around for and haven't found much yet. If anyone has recs I would be grateful!

[worriedvision]

HII it's my first time requesting so idk but ye

I really like your "stood up thrice" fic, I'm so obsess I keep coming back to it. I've been trying to find more stood up fics but can't so

Request:

Can you do stood up w Childe, Zhongli, Al haitham and Tighnari!! Super angsty if possible!!

On my sad era rn 🙏

Tyyyyy in advance<33

Okay so this has been in my inbox for a while (I think haha) and I've been meaning to get to this! Gender neutral reader, angst. Each of these characters will have different ways of them not showing up for a date, and while Alhaitham has had one done on this blog that was the reader being a wet wipe and letting Alhaitham do that three times instead of completely passing him by after he did so.

---

Tartaglia:

He was the one who asked you out, when he was in Liyue on a mission. You accept, somehow not knowing about his job, and he makes a time and place for you to meet up. You put on your best outfit, your best fragrance, as much effort as you could to leave a good impression during the date.

As you stand at the harbor, the location he told you, you wait with baited breath. After a few minutes pass, you start to worry. fifteen minutes after, you see him walking towards you.

...Only to walk past you, onto a boat. Before you could go after him, the ship leaves. He didn't make eye contact with you, he didn't turn his head or apologise in any way when you called out for him.

You look around, seeing the people around you give you a look of empathy as they realise you were stood up. Nobody had seen you this nice before, they knew you were looking forward to this date based on how you held yourself, as well as how you shrunk when he ignored you.

Zhongli:

You asked him out, finding him interesting and Hu Tao had played matchmaker in this case. He told so many interesting stories, and he was an intelligent man. Not to mention the looks, however he was the full package for you.

Sitting at the tea room you agreed on, you start to think you've thought too much about how lovely he was. You were sitting there for an hour, only leaving when one of the staff tell you that they were closing shop for the day.

He never told you why he didn't show for the date, and Hu Tao tried her hardest to reassure you this was just a one time mistake. She tries telling you that Zhongli is a smart man, and he would never turn down the chance to date you.

But you knew better, you knew that he didn't respect you enough to date you. He played you, and when you asked him why he wasn't there, he clears his throat before looking down at his pocket. He didn't apologise, either. He didn't give you any words, actually.

Alhaitham:

When you got asked out by Alhaitham, you had to ask him to repeat himself. Being the person who delivered whatever letter needed to be sent out regarding applications for the open Sage positions, you thought he didn't return your feelings. You look away bashfully when you say yes, and he tells you the location and time.

When he didn't show up, you decide to order for yourself. Halfway through your meal, Kaveh is the one that shows up instead of Alhaitham. Turns out, Alhaitham 'changed his mind', Kaveh quoted. Kaveh decided to sit with you, knowing it would only look embarrassing for you if he walked out after saying one thing.

Kaveh tried his best to cheer you up, but nothing could work after the excitement you felt when you waited for him. After he walks you home, you thank him for making it at least look like he was who you were waiting for.

The next day, Alhaitham asks you how your night was. After seeing you glare at him, he tells you that you need to stop putting people on pedestals. He explains that he knew about your feelings - how obvious it was to everyone - and he decided it would be the best way for you to move on. As much as you wanted to quit, you knew you had to find a job to fall back on, so from that point onwards you were cold to him.

It was only fair after he toyed with your feelings to 'make you realise you were being urealistic'.

Tighnari:

When you asked him out, he said he would be happy to be there. You tell him a time and place, him nodding and noting it down before reassuring you he would be there.

When your shift ended, you changed out of your forest ranger uniform to clean yourself up before going for the date. After making sure you look good, you head off. You actually showed up a little bit late, as something came up with your work.

Ten minutes later, Tighnari is there. You thought he was there for you, only to feel humiliated when he walks over to the table with his friends. He sits down, apologising for being late as he pulls out his deck of cards. When you hear someone pull out a chair across from you, you expect it to be someone needing a spare chair for their own table.

Only to see Dehya there. She asks you if you wanted her to drag Tighnari over, knowing about the date he was talking to her about being tonight. Shaking your head, you tell her you'd rather forget about this incident. Shrugging it off, you instead treat Dehya to a meal, your heart sinking because you heard Tighnari talking as if he didn't remember you had a date.

The next day, Tighnari assigns you your duties for the day before turning to leave. You ask him if he enjoyed his night, and he brushes it off by saying he enjoyed his time with his friends. He caught your disappointment, but he didn't know why.

He didn't approach you in the days after that, and you slowly processed the fact he stood you up despite looking like he was happy to go on a date with you while working alone on your shifts.

[myheartalivewrites]

20 questions for fic writers

Hey @cha-melodius thanks for tagging me in this!

How many works do you have on ao3?

23

What's your total ao3 word count?

329,905

What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB and A Marvellous Light (The Last Binding trilogy). I've been thinking about writing for We Could be So Good by Cat Sebastian since I read it last week. I loved it so much I binge read 3 other books by the same author straight after, and then turned right back to WCBSG. Book rec for everyone who's not read it!

Top five fics by kudos:

Deep Blue

Just Like That.

Oxford Days

In His Wildest Dreams

A tie for fifth! Have One (On Me) and Tumbled Down and Tangled Up

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! Unless they're a bit dodge lol

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is the question that reminds me I've done this game before hehe. I'm only interested in happy endings so this is hard to choose, but Don't Wanna Be A Fool For You is quite angsty and ends just as they're getting over the angst, so I have to go with that.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I always write happy endings, BUT, if I must choose, I'm gonna go with a non-RWRB fic here. in your room, like a temple is an epilogue of sorts to A Marvellous Light, and it makes me SO HAPPY to have written this settled future for Robin and Edwin.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not usually, though I did get a couple of annoying comments on my first threesome fic from people who thought their own vision of monogamy for Alex and Henry was something they had to come and tell me about 🙄

Do you write smut?

hahahahhaaaaaaaa yes

Craziest crossover:

Never done one

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No! Someone did ask me about translating Deep Blue but I don't think they've followed through with it. I'd love it though

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No

All time favorite ship?

Alex and Henry

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oooh, I don't have any WIPs on ao3 to feel guilty about. What sits on my hard drive is between me and my atheist god (also me)

What are your writing strengths?

Yikes, ok! Here are things I like about my writing: I like the way I write smut that's super emotional AND super hot, and all the different ways I've come up to make smut scenes different from each other (because writing them can sometimes feel repetitive from my perspective). I like the way I play with rhythm in sentences and build tension in scenes. I like the way I build emotional and sexual tension in a piece overall. Please no one drop into the notes to tell me they disagree 😂

What are your writing weaknesses?

I CANNOT come up with external obstacles! Whenever I'm trying to plot something out and I'm trying to come up with BIG PLOT REASONS to keep people apart, my brain just freezes. I love internal obstacles, the emotional reasons why people choose to do the things they do, but as for external things to move the plot along (think Jeffrey Richard leaking emails, Queen Mary telling Henry how to live his life) I'm just... ultimately uninterested in them. Which is fine if it's a choice, and I love a lot of writing just like that, but I wish my brain could at least TRY.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Like it.

First fandom you wrote in?

RWRB

Favorite fic you've written?

Haha good one. Changes all the time. Current fave: Paper Chains, I think (a personal stab to my heart how much it's underrated). I tried something new for me with the structure, and I think the emotional punches hit so hard, I'm so proud of it. Or maybe the new one for RBB, called Foxden Park. Coming soon!

No pressure tags (and sorry if you've already done this and I've missed it!): @thesleepyskipper @firenati0n @welcometololaland @inexplicablymine @sparklepocalypse

@onetwistedmiracle @tintagel-or-cockleshells @historicallysam @cultofsappho @14carrotghoul

@suseagull04 @magicandarchery @itsmaybitheway @porcelainmortal @anincompletelist and anyone who fancies joining in! 😘

[stashandtell]

Nobody Asked For This: My Rankings of the Hermione x Weasley Ships with REASONS

I drafted this weeks ago and had set it aside with no clear plan to publish it. Then, after a stroke of 2 AM genius this morning, I wrote a piece called Ranking the Weasleys, (to be posted on 19 Sept 2024 in honor of Hermione's birthday) and it seemed like a great time to finalize this post and share it. Feel free to tell me your rankings in the comments, be it your list of the fittest Weasley as you find them or your ranked-list of pairings with Weasleys, whatever you fancy to share. Enjoy! - - - - I made a loooong post with recs for each of my top Hermione/Weasley ships that you can check out here. Read Ranking the Weasleys or see the related post where I talk about writing Ranking the Weasleys and I share just a few initial thoughts on the fetishization of war wounds in the fandom here. - - - - I've recently dove into the world of Hermione x Any-Of-The-Weasley-Brothers pairings, which is what happens when you're burnt out on the regular ships you read and looking for something more. Personally, I'm surprised I gravitate towards so many Hermione-focused pairings, especially het pairings, but that's just what I've been into lately. I hadn't considered pairings with her and any of the Weasleys until someone recommended Charmione fics in a thread for Theomione. Once I dug into the fandom's characterizations of the Weasley brood and had a better sense of who each of them were on their own, I found I really like many of these ships, some more than others. The rankings of my top-three rotate pretty regularly depending on the last great fic I've devoured. This is a snapshot of where things stand today but it could move around. Before we dive in, I've preview my rankings and the major themes of the pairings in the most popular fics shipping Hermione with a Weasley. 1. Bill: Wolf-ish Daddy 2. Fred: Uplifting, Fun, and Romantic 3. Charlie: Sexy and Rugged 4. George: Growing Through Grief 5. Percy: Acceptance of Self, Also Rules Daddy 6. Ginny: A Firecracker and a Friend 7. Ron: Angsty Best Friends-to-Lovers 8. Gideon or Fabian: Time Travel AU or Ghost Lover(s) 9. Arthur or Molly: I haven't read these ships so they're going in the bottom of the list. I'm not opposed to reading these pairings but there's already such a trove with all the brothers in my tbr list that I'm not sure I'll ever dive in. 10. Weasley Progeny: I haven't read any of these ships. I have not read many pairings that include anyone dating their friends' kid in the next generation. (Though I have read a small number of fics pairing characters like Hermione or Ginny with older characters like Kingsley or Sirius...shoutout to the older/younger Nottcissa ship.) 11. Aunt Murial: Technically she's a Prewett but I think I would be into a Murmione ship if we got there. So far nothing comes up on AO3. - - - - 1. Billmione: What I love about a Hermione x Bill dynamic is his position as oldest-sibling and caretaker. If the author has resolved the relationship with Fleur as one that has ended in divorce or death, that extra element of emotional tenderness really can push the story to complex depths. I also find it interesting to see how writers engage with Bill's hybrid/half-werewolf affliction. I'm hard-pressed to really fall in love with any Billmione fic where their relationship starts pre-Battle of Hogwarts, though I do get it. I personally enjoy stories that can be canon compliant so I want to see how the Fleur issue is handled. I also find that with such a significant age-gap for that developmental stage of teenager-dom, (not like Fleur was THAT much older than Hermione but still...), it's incredibly rewarding to see an older Hermione that brings some kind of life experience to the relationship so she can be more equal with Bill.

In some of the fics, especially a few of the multi-Weasley, reverse-harem style pieces I've finally started reading, Bill's older-brother position and wolfy streak create the core dynamic of the group.

I'm not the biggest fan of the multi-Weasley pairings with Hermione but what I loved most in the standout fics are the group dynamics and individual roles that come out. Hermione can be incredibly stubborn and independent on her own and it's always interesting when she's in opposition to Bill to see how the others in their relationship choose sides.

- - - - 2. Fremione: On it's face, I don't even know if I like this ship all that much but I keep finding myself suckered in. I suspect a big part of it is that it hits me in the sentimental feels. My inner-teen just loves a Hermione x Fred story that traces their young love to whatever conclusion the author brings it to. Even if they get together when they're older and Fred lives through the final battle, they both usually end up with a friends-to-lovers scenario that's full of light sweetness and sometimes romance.

There are some truly fantastic works in this ship and I go 50/50 on whether I prefer ones where Fred lives or not. Depends on my mood and the tone of the story I suppose. There are very few stories in this pairing that I haven't enjoyed and the element of pranking really can make shorter fics fun.

I REALLY enjoy past Hermione/Fred relationships being included in fics where she looks back on their love fondly while she navigates new relationships, sometimes with one of his brothers. Fred is often portrayed as a goof, which seems to encourage authors to consistently write a more engaging and dynamic version of Hermione instead of following some of the fanon's (beloved by me as well) personality tropes/traps of her being insecure, slow-to-assert-herself, angry-broken-or-both and etc. His character brings out some of her best qualities consistently across fics, imo.

- - - - 3. Charmione: I quickly realized when I started reading Charmione fanfics that I do not give a shit about dragons but deeply wish I did. It's a cool plot device and part of the world to hang out with but it's not for me. Tons of appreciation for writers who have thoughtful plot lines and research interesting medical maladies-- but it's hard to hold my interest. (A million kudos when a dragon-centered fic does though!) The Reserve is usually full of original characters, which is fine, but I find myself less invested in the story if we don't know much about these OCs to build out that world.

I often find in the dragon-reserve heavy pieces that I was getting part-way through were objectively GOOD multi-chapters but I kept stalling out in favor of reading something else. Usually whenever there's a Hermione that ends up at the dragon Reserve, she's characterized by her unyielding passions for creatures' rights, spurred on by house elf and werewolf activism. Those are interesting characterizations for her but they just don't keep my attention. That said, I have yet, to date DNF'd any Charmione work so clearly it's not a huge imposition. That said, Charmione is in the top third because there's so much that can be done with this character. I've read a number of fics where Charlie is ace (asexual, demisexual, etc.); where's he's inexperienced because he's married to his job; where he's "too free-spirited" and very experienced; where he's enthusiastically bisexual; where he's not interested in marriage; where he's pining over Tonks; and so much more. His sporadic attendance at family holidays and the ability for Hermione or others to visit him on the Reserve lends to great plot opportunities.

- - - - 4. Geormione: I haven't been around long enough to fully understand why Fremione is a more popular ship than Geormione, but here are some observations: - Fred is portrayed in the fandom as the more loveable, airy goof while George tends to be painted as the more serious and quiet of the two - Generally, in the canon, Fred speaks more than George, from what I've been seeing, as I notate up my secondhand copies of the books - Fred's death or, depending on the fic, brush-with-death, is ripe for the reimagining of his relationships and personality - According to internet gossip, Hermione with Fred were considered for pairing in the canon originally but it didn't suit the overall plans for the series. Source for this can not be verified but it's come up in multiple places. I believe this contributes to the numbers: Fremione has 2182 works and Geormione has 548 works on AO3, as I draft this. All that said, George is usually characterized as the quieter and possibly more serious twin. He might be more shy than the outgoing Fred. Post-war, he often mourns the loss of his twin brother, his best friend, and his sense of himself as part of the pair which can, frankly, be kind of a drag if a writer is looking for a pairing to write a hot romance about. (Not that people can't be sexy or have healthy sexual relationships while grieving!) However, when works take the journey to establish Hermione and George, it's often incredibly rewarding. It tends to feel like Fremione with the temperature turned down on the lightness and has the ability to go deeper into any darkness that needs to be explored. I do love a Geormione but there are statistically fewer works out there than some of the other pairings, thus it's earned it's spot mid-tier. - - - - 5. Permione: There's not much to say because there aren't that many longer fics with this pairing written and most times it's tied to a Hermione x Multi-Weasley scenario. This gets the 5th and some days I would rank it higher because there are worlds in which this is the actual correct pairing of all of the brothers, based on what we can surmise from the canon.

A swotty, uptight prefect-turned-Ministry drone with a regretful heart of gold, Percy's guilt over abandoning his family and Fred dying before him is well-matched for how many writers imagine Hermione's coping with the aftermath of the war. Hermione would have known him during some prime formative years and knows he'll date muggle-born or half-blood witches, a la Penelope Clearwater. It's easy to dismiss Percy as being "not fanciable" if you don't read this ship but some of the writers out there make a compelling case for him, particularly when they make a logical transition from his personal fastidiousness to him seeking to play with control and BDSM elements in his private affairs. I love a good Permione piece. He's often positioned as the conservative punching bag of the family and it's a thing of art when a writer makes us root hard for him.

- - - - 6. Herminny: I haven't much of anything in this pairing yet. Truthfully, I've been holding off on it because I'm sure I'll do a deep dive once I start. It shouldn't come as a surprise that I've read almost no Harmony works either. I love a F/F fic but tend to read in waves and I've been working my way through the Weasley brothers pairings (when I'm not refreshing for Nevmione and Theomione works.) If you have any excellent recs for Herminny or other pairings name, please drop me a line! The reason Herminny is above Romione is because I love many of the fanon characterizations of Ginny in all the other fics I've read, especially when she's mischievous, cheeky, in tune with her sexuality, and ready to take on her own adventures in the world. The ones I have read where she and Hermione have been together were lovely but most were very short fics in collections. - - - - 7. Romione: I read A LOT of Hermione-centered works and authors very often find a need to resolve the young romance with Ron or use him and their relationship as a catalyst that propels our heroine down a path into the arms of another man. I can honestly say that I have read ZERO Romione endgame fics to date, and that includes one shots AND drabbles (~100k words or less.) WILD, right?

I really enjoy angst and Ron is one of the punching bags most often leaned on by writers. One of these days, I'm going to go on a Romione bender as an offering of penance to his character for all of the times I rooted against him in every other fic.

- - - - 8. Lowest Tier: I have never read a Hermione x Molly nor an Hermione x Arthur fic, and while I'm not fundamentally opposed, I'd be flabbergasted to find either pairing beating Romione. I'd much sooner read an Arthur/Molly fic than one that ships either with Hermione because that's just where I'm at right now. I'm happy reading works that aren't smutty in any way but damn if some smut doesn't help along a work that really isn't capturing my interest. While I love when I see versions of Arthur and Molly who are loving friends and/or parental figures to Hermione, the angst-lover in me doesn't mind a solid bashing of either of them and it's hard to get that out of my head. As for the other possible pairs with Hermione and Gideon, Fabian, Murial, or the children of the other Weasleys, I'm just not well-read enough in any of those pairings to have an opinion. I literally only started reading Marauders-era works two weeks ago (and really ONLY well-known Wolfstar fics so far.) A Note About Fleur: One character who's excluded from this list is Fleur Weasley nee' Delacour. I've only read triad- or multi-Weasley fics that put Hermione with her and Bill. While I do love a Bill/Fleur/Hermione work, it seemed disingenuous to rank Fleurmione against the others with what little I've read. That and I'm so clearly jazzed about a Billmione where Bill's free-and-clear to be with whoever, that my ranking of Fleurmione would be heavily biased.

[gabzlovesu]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘

╰ ft. kaeya alberich !

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS even before i took my break from writing. and i've proofread this fic damn near 100 times but wasn't sure about posting it. i'm so sorry lol. after this i swear i'll post fics for new characters!

warnings: fem!reader, oral (fem! receiving), angsty sex, kaeya struggling to use his big boy words and tell reader how he feels (bc canon kaeya is >>> fanon kaeya, like bffr)...

word count: 1.2k

☆ PLEASE READ MY RULES/BYF BEFORE INTERACTING ! MINORS DNI ! ☆

Your thumb glides along his lip, studying the fine lines and savoring the warmth that radiates through your fingertip. Your gaze remained fixed on his lips longer than it should have, fearing that once you kissed him — once your lips met and sealed off the world around you — that he too would vanish and become nothing more than a figment of your imagination. And when you finally kissed, it was slow, every movement exaggerated to make this moment last a tad bit longer. 

That’s how things usually go whenever you dared to let love trespass the cracked and ragged walls surrounding your heart. The forbidden feeling crept in, and he crept out, going off on his own and leaving you behind with no one to share the extra space. 

So you hold on, fisting the hair above the nape of his neck and the white fabric of his shirt as you deepened the kiss, all while eliciting a deep, guttural moan from him. It was your favorite sound. The vocalization of his unspoken desire laced with something more… a bit of feral nature. His fingers dig into your hips as he pulls you closer on his lap, letting you feel what you do to him through the many layers of clothing between the two of you.

He never said those three measly words that you desperately wanted to hear, but it wasn’t like he dangled them over your head and strung you along either… they just lingered at the back of this throat where they taunted his tongue, wanting to be muttered into the crook of your neck as he held you.

Like a fool, you gave in to him completely as you’ve done countless times before, letting him fill the space between your legs the same way he occupied every inch of your mind. You didn’t stop him. You wanted him to invade your thoughts, your thighs, and every other part of you. You wanted to feel everything he couldn’t say.

“Kaeya…” Your voice trails off, as you get lost in the blue of his eyes. But you didn’t need to finish, not when you gave that lovesick look that you always did before you professed your love. And although he would never admit it, guilt welled up within him every single time. He was guilty about the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to reciprocate such a simple statement. Or maybe he was guilty about the fact that you loved him instead of someone better, someone that didn’t hide their emotions and ration out their love.

Tonight was different. Something urged him deep inside.

“It’s my turn to say it,” he says, cutting you off. Kaeya leads your hand to his mouth so that he can press a kiss into your palm before continuing. “I love you. I am so deeply in love with you Y/N that I don’t know what to do with myself. And I need you to know. ” 

He loves you. 

Kaeya loves you. 

Maybe you heard that wrong, so you just stare at him with uncertainty.

Silence.

Both of you freeze in place and the air stifles with a bit of awkward tension. You fix your mouth to say something but this time, you’re the one who is struggling to force words to come out, to provide a response. As much as he wanted you to give one, he doesn’t wait any longer. Instead, he starts littering your body with kisses like he was trying to prove his confession. 

The lower he crept down your body, the more your back arched off of the satin sheet, offering more of yourself to him as he worked his way to your hot core. Only when his mouth met your aching bud did you melt and mesh with the sheets, drowning in the smooth ocean of grey as you struggled to stay afloat in the sea of arousal.

You could’ve sworn he was mouthing the words into your cunt over and over as he devoured you, and they traveled up from your quivering lips straight to your heart where they were etched permanently — words you would never forget. They were all you focused on as he continued to make love to you. Even when he slowly sank into your heat, rocking his hips and whispering more words into your ear to accompany each thrust, but they were irrelevant words that paled in comparison to “I love you”. 

The night ended too soon as your bodies continued to tangle. And some time during your coition, the sheets were ripped from the bed so you resorted to cuddling into this toned body as a heat source. He didn’t mind, his finger idly drawing shapes into your bare back as you counted his heartbeats that thundered in his chest.

It didn’t matter how much you flushed your body against him though. There was still a small possibility that he would be gone by dawn’s first light, leaving as swiftly and quietly as the night had set…and maybe you were okay with that. You didn’t expect for him to stick around, to see that coy smile when you woke in the morning, especially not after what he said tonight. The calvary captain would probably drown himself in work and pretend you didn’t exist for a few days so he could mull over his feelings with a bottle of liquor and get his head straight. But you were okay with that — it was normal.

The cold, empty space next to you in the morning was enough to convince you. Your heart cracking a little more, letting the love start to leak without anyone to catch it. Part of you did expect him to stay, just for once. 

At least he had the decency to drape his fur-lined cape over your naked form, the white fur tickled your nose and caused you to wake from your slumber. You slowly climb off the bed, wrapping the cape around yourself as you take in the mess on the floor: your clothes scattered around, pillows thrown about, and the sheets lay jumbled at the foot of the bed. A sigh escapes your lips and then your eyes look to the billowing curtains, realizing that the balcony doors were open to the morning breeze. 

What you found behind the curtains was shocking, bringing goosebumps to your skin along with the crisp Mondstat air. There was Kaeya, standing at the rail glowing in the golden hue of the morning sun as it peaked out from behind the horizon. He was ethereal.

If Khaenri’ah did have a god, you imagined it would be fashioned after him.

 It didn’t take long for him to notice your presence, and while he did hesitate at first — gauging your feelings about last night — he eventually slinked over to you. He let his arms fall in place around you, second nature it seemed, before locking lips. 

It was a goodbye kiss since he had to report to headquarters soon, but it was also a promise to return later. You could tell from the way he extended the deep kiss, usually it was a quick peck and he was gone. This time he pulled you in and french kissed you until his lungs burned for air. 

With a stroke of his thumb across your lip while admiring your eyes, mimicking you from last night, he departed silently out the door. You stood there with a stupid grin plastered on your face as you held the cape tight and ran your fingers over the exact spot his thumb grazed moments prior.

TAGLIST FORM

tags: @hungrynessforfics @rinhoes @indiecursor @protectpancakes @fight-me-bitch @nneedynymph @po3ticb3auty @haitani-plague  @festive @apollostears @thenerdyrebel @4ngrysgf @daichisbunnybaby @urwifey2 @picayunne @kookieflvr @woahhajime @syomi @chrolloderulo @kutosznn @takemichiluvr @sweeneyblue1 @tyga-lily @jeanslove @getoswhore @thicksimpx @sakurashell @38riku @hyeque @wiserebelpartypie @sleepy3 @yuujilove @imperatorkhaleesi @sukunas-left-nut-sack @lawscorazon @sailewhoremoon @chaoticevilbakugo @xxrwzy @wh0reforlevi @nekoriots @yeagerfushiguro @chaotic-fangirl-blog @sftbunny-blog @dukina @momoewn @thithesandofferings @justdevine @hyeque @chittakii @breyspage

[yuebings]

fic writer meme

thank u @fruitdaze @uhuraisgay @cairoscene @englishsub for tagging me!

How many works do you have on Ao3?

44 currently! double 4s? during MY lunar new year? i gotta change that up quick

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

315,042 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

my most written-for fandom is mdzs, but i don't really write for it anymore...if you look at my ao3 profile u can kinda tell i'm a sporadic one-and-done type when it comes to fic hehe no one can predict where i'll go next. my latest fandom is jujutsu kaisen!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

so you've been robbed by a musuem

the stone-filled sea

the family-dodging bathroom-dwellers association

and his wanting grows teeth

diving blind

it's like a wangxian sweep except for the last sambucky lol

5. Do you respond to comments?

i am trying to get better at that! sometimes i don't have the energy to go through and respond to every single one but trust me when i say that seeing the wonderful comments people leave truly makes my day

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

tbh i don't think i've ever written straight-up angsty endings (or at least the way i see straight up angst). every 'bad' ending has a ray of hope in it, or at least an acceptance that like...yes, this is the way it was meant to be, and to reject the outcome would be to reject everything that came before it. sometimes things were meant to go to shit. there was no other way to go. we were doomed but at least we loved each other. i will suffer but at least i can remember you. so on so forth.

with all that said, it's a toss up between the longest journey (di feijing & lei chun), or all things in pain (wen ning character study). 'angsty' endings, if only in the way i described above

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

a lot of my happy endings aren't super-sweet happy endings per se, but rather a promise or hope that things will get better. idk what that says about me lol like maybe i have more interest in the "how to become happy" part than the actual happiness itself...? but ANYWAY i'd say the sappiest ending is i have is uhhhh feel like a brand new person (msr take edibles together) because 1) their mutual attraction is finally acknowledged 2) they're making out 3) they're high as balls. what's better than this

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not any time recently! i've rarely had negative comments before and all of them have been of such a ridiculous nature that my only response was like "lmfao ok"

9. Do you write smut?

nope! not yet, at least. maybe some time in the future i'll feel like it

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you have written?

haven't written any, don't really read them either! i keep my blorbos locked up in their separate cages. siloed.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yes! kind of. if this counts, a couple years ago someone on wattpad stole over 100 wangxian fics (including mine) from ao3 and reposted them onto their own account without credit. we got their account taken down tho so all is well...but this is why i say in my ao3 profile that i do not allow reposts. please tell me if u ever see my work reposted anywhere........

i've also come across a fic in a diff fandom that was VERY clearly "inspired" by one of mine (lifting certain scenes and lines beat for beat) and gave no credit. so there's that as well.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! it's always an honor when someone wants to translate my work :)

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

nope! my creative process is so erratic that i feel like i'd be a nightmare to co-write with, so this is probably for the better

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

this is a hard question to answer. i don't have an ultimate favorite that always stays at the top of the pile, cuz my interests change all the time! right now i'm really enjoying platonic yuuji & megumi & nobara & gojo. in terms of what i go to most often when i want a comfort re-read...finnpoe.

15. What is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

omg. you want a DEEP CUT? i have a wip for a rarepair in an already sparse fandom...yeongshin/seobi from kingdom on netflix (the historical korean zombie drama). i LOOOOVE that show i comfort re-watch it all the time. i love their bonded-thru-trauma-frenemies healer/warrior dynamic and i have this wip going for yeongshin getting bitten and seobi developing a zombification-reversal cure through sheer willpower and spite alone........there's maybe 2k written and i was relying on a season renewal announcement to motivate me enough to get the rest of it out but uh. fellow kingdom warriors if you're out there. i think we may be losing this battle............kingdom season 3 announcement save me..............

16. What are your writing strengths?

as a haver-of-siblings, i think i do general family dynamics pretty well! someone has told me in the past that i am good at packing meaning into very few words. i also think i'm good at angsty emotional beats (i sure like writing them, at least)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

bro if there is any action scene in my work, writing it is like pulling teeth. what do you mean he's getting hit. what do you mean i have to think of an interesting way to describe punch #1 and punch #2 and punch #3. STOPPPPPPPP I CANT DO THIS.

in terms of technique i used to struggle with this thing where i NEED to perfect the writing i'm working on before i can move on. like i'd waste huge amounts of time rewriting a three sentence paragraph over and over and over again until it was perfect before i could move onto the next scene. i'm getting a lot better with that tho!

18. Thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

i've never done it myself, like, full on written-in-a-diff-lang dialogue, but i think it's cool as long as context clues/some form of translation is provided. and if proper research is done if the writer isn't a native speaker

19. First fandom you wrote for?

the man from uncle (2015). lol. napollya could have won in an alternate universe where armie h@mmer wasn't a piece of shit

20. Favorite fic you have written?

HOO. i gotta say it's my sambucky ghost fic the boy who cried ghost. it's by far my longest fic (even tho it isn't actually very long compared to others ive seen LOLLLL) and it took me AGES to write and ended up being quite personal!! part of the reason it took me so long to finish was bc i couldn't bear to write about sam struggling with grief/guilt when i was also going through something similar, so when i finally got around to writing the moment of catharsis i kinda felt like i was helping myself, too! which was a very interesting experience, and definitely served to lodge this fic in my heart forever and ever. it's not exactly popular but i'm proud of it :)

tagging @tantai-jin @bluecrystalrainingdaggers @vinelark and anyone else who wants to participate!

[practically-an-x-man]

more angsty prompts #1 or 12 for Jasper or Eris? :)

Ooooh thank you!! I think I'll go with 12 for Eris (I've already written something similar to 1 for Eris, and these two don't really fit Jasper's timeline the way I have it in my head)

12. realizing they can never return home

More Angsty Prompts

____ Nostos

Word Count: 433 Tags: Loneliness, homesickness, gen fic, OC-focused

____

Four hundred and nineteen years.

That was how long it took them to feel homesick. The first time, at least.

That was how long it took him to survey the world, to take in everything it had to offer, to bounce between wars and enjoy the innovation of technology as it presented itself.

That was how long it took her to cool off from all the injustices Themyscira and its people had put her through. Perhaps the anger alone had softened much earlier - there was no real point in grudges, particularly when he imagined he'd never see their faces again - but it was four centuries before the thought of returning even crossed his mind.

But then she sat alone in a tavern, with her bowl of strangely-flavored perpetual stew and her goblet of watered-down wine, and she wished for a home-cooked meal. She drank from her cup and wished for a night of reverie like the ones she remembered from years past. Even undiluted wine would not affect them. It had been centuries since they'd last been properly drunk.

And as much as he told himself he didn't mind the atrocities he bore... sometimes he wished he could blur those memories for a night or two. It had been four hundred and nineteen years since he'd left Themyscira - four hundred and nineteen years since his thoughts had been at peace.

From there, the homesickness came in uncertain tides. Sometimes they'd go years- centuries, even - without the slightest flicker of it, and they were content with their life. Other times it hit them out of the blue, without warning, like an arrow to the heart.

Once, she spent four whole months without leaving the room of her inn, and only left when the owners called the local debt collectors on her for refusing to pay her dues. Oh, she paid those dues. Quickly and mercilessly. It was not the money that drove her from that town, but the shame.

Once, she commandeered a schooner and attempted to sail off the end of the world. But Themyscira did not want him. She had not wanted him in many, many years.

They would never again be tucked into bed, and listen to their mother tell stories of the oldest gods and bravest heroes. They would never again hear the rallying cries of his sister-warriors, chanting in a language too old for human ears. He would never again witness their dances, their festivals, taste their spiced bread and rich cider.

This world was not the same. It would never be the same.

He could never return home.

[mooonjin]

Wrecked His Heart

Notes: well here it is!!!!!!!! a hurt wrecker fic that decided to stab me in the chest. ngl it kinda hurt to write too poor wrecker im sorry ill nerver hurt him again IS WEARR!!!

Pairing: Wrecker x gn!reader

Summary: Wrecker harbours feelings for you and has for a very long time. It's Valentines, the day of love and admiration. When he finally gains the courage to confess, it's not how he expected it to turn out.

Warnings/Tags: hurt, kinda angsty, minor yelling (if squint), heartbreak⁠— tell me if I've missed anything!

"Wrecker, today is the 14th, it is obvious you do not have anymore days to procrastinate telling her that you harbour feelings." Tech's index finger pushed up his goggles for the thousandth time today. He was tapping away at his datapad, listening and enduring the whines of Wrecker on the co-pilots seat.

It was the 14th of February, Valentine's Day. Wrecker has been keeping it a secret as best as he could; he has the biggest, most colossal crush on you. It's so huge it's going to crush him soon.

He's made small moves, soft nudges, compliments, and assisting you when he can. These actions just put fuel into his burning fire-heart and increases the feelings he has. It's gotten to the point where even just looking at you has him weak in the knees.

"Can't I wait one more day! I don't know if 'm ready..." Wrecker nervously ran his fingers over his knuckles, rubbing them gently. His eyebrows furrowed and he pouted as he stared into the glowing buttons of the Marauders control panels.

"You have stated on multiple occasions you would confess on the 14th," Tech stopped tapping on his datapad to look up at Wrecker, "It is the 14th, is it not?" He then looked back down when Wrecker limply gave a nod.

It was almost silent. Occasionally, Tech was able to hear the pitter patter of Wrecker's gloved hand tapping against his armour.

The cockpit door swooshed opened, giving Wrecker a fright. Tech, not so much. Wrecker could feel his heart begin to race as he realised it was you who entered. Tech sent one quick 'now's your chance' look before attending to you.

"Here's your crate full of spare parts and Crosshair's still using your wrench," You grunted, placing down the crate full of parts and sliding it to the side. You dusted your hands off before glancing at Wrecker, "Heya, Wrecker!"

Wrecker almost passed out. This is his chance. You may have broken eye contact but you were still here and Tech seemed as if he was about to leave. Like he sensed this too.

"Hey, I need to tell you something. I rea—"

"Need you outside, fuel s'about to leak if we don't have an extra pair of hands." Echo's voice came through your comm, interrupting Wrecker.

"Be right there! Sorry Wrecker, tell me later!" You jogged out of the cockpit, a pout forming on his face again. Tech turned back around to analyse the expression on his brothers face.

"You need to confess confidently."

Wrecker grunted, "How can if m'being interrupted all the time!"

Tech clipped the lid of the crate closed, retrieving his datapad before sitting down on the pilots chair, "If you approach her first, you are less likely to be interrupted. Especially in an environment with not many people."

Wrecker rubbed the back of his neck nervously, practicing the same words he was going to tell you before he got interrupted. He sighed, heavily, walking out of the cockpit. He made brief eye contact  with Crosshair who was screwing away on his weaponry. He overheard what went down and honestly, Wrecker didn't know if he was rooting for him.

He heard you chatting with his brothers but Wreckers eyes were only on you. His eyes gently scanned your figure as you were holding up the hole the fuel was going to leak out of. There were lovehearts in his eyes and his actual heart pounded against his chest like it was in a prison.

He didn't know how to ask you with his brothers around, he'd rather do it between the two of you. Mainly because of the embarrassment. He waited patiently on the Marauders ramp.

Every once and while you exchanged eye contact with him when you weren't speaking to Echo or Hunter. You have to admit, Wrecker is adorable. But like... hot adorable. He's a big guy and can handle himself. He can flip over gunships for Maker's sake but he has the biggest soft spot for his family.

You wondered why he was sat on the ramp though. You didn't mind him coming up and just sitting with Echo, Hunter, and yourself. If anything, you enjoy his company.

"How long til I can let go of this, Echo? I swear my knuckles are locking and my wrists are numbing up." You chuckled, tired. It was reasonable that Echo could hold it up for so long, he has a scomp for a hand. But you? Not a chance.

"When you hear the hiss of the lock." You sighed, defeated. You glanced up at Wrecker, who seemed to have broken eye contact immediately. You guessed he was staring first. You chuckled under your breath before you heard the hissing noise of the fuel lock closing.

"Thank goodness." You grunted as you took your slightly numb hands off the Marauder. You stretched every possible muscle to gain feelings back in your hands. As if Wrecker was waiting for the hiss too, he finally stood up, walking over to you.

Wrecker was preparing himself. He noticed you were finished with your little task and took the opportunity, just like Tech said.

"Uh, hey! Could I uh, talk to you for a moment? Just in town... if that's okay?" Wrecker rubbed the back of his neck, hoping you'd say yes.

Echo and Hunter peered up, giving the two of you a subtle side eye. They were both aware of Wrecker's feelings towards you and assumed he was confessing today.

"Sure! I need to pick up some stuff anyway." You said brightly.

You followed Wrecker into town, the polar opposite demeanours contrasting as you walked side by side down the busy alleys.

Now it was just the two of you. Sure there was the bustling of the town but between the squad, it really is just the two of you. Wrecker was nervous as ever.

He gently grabbed your wrist to guide you into a less noisy and busy area of town so he didn't have to speak up so much. Ironic since he's the sunshine of the group.

"Oh, we're not going into the markets?" You asked confused. Wrecker pulled you into a slightly empty place, a civilian coming around the corner every now and then.

Wrecker sighed, slowly building the courage, "I just need to tell you something..." He trailed off, his voice decreasing in volume as you made eye contact with him. Nervous isn't even the word to use right now.

You perked up, listening intently on what Wrecker had to tell you.

"I uh..."

"Ilikeyoualot." He said in one breath. You froze, taking time to process what Wrecker confessed.

A deep, deep, and terrible feeling rose in your chest. Your heart sank and you couldn't help your eyebrows that furrowed together.

Wrecker was quick to analyse your face, being the best empath in the group. Your expression was unfamiliar but he assumed it wasn't good. His heart began to sink too, the silence uncomfortable and long.

"Wrecker, I..." You began but no words followed after.

"Oh uh, n-no, it's okay, I know."

Your hands came out defensively, "No! No, no, that's not what I mean entirely," your gaze fell to the ground, it's hard to look at the man in front of you now that you know what you're going to say, "I just... think we shouldn't you know, uh, go into that?"

"Huh...?" Wreckers voice shook a little, he wasn't amazing at understanding how people structured their sentences but the tone is what he went off of.

"We should keep what's between us... um, professional? You know? As best friends?" You tried to smile, covering up the rumbling sadness in your chest and the weakness in your knees. Seriously? Professionally? He thought you were more than that...

"R-Right," Wrecker mumbled bluntly, "Sorry, lets get supplies then..." He walked off first, his head hanging lower than when you arrived. Wrecker's posture dropped a little, his arms practically brushing against the stone tiles of the path.

He sort of left you there. Standing and accepting the whole situation. Wrecker confessed his feelings to you and you rejected him. End of story.

You sighed deeply, following Wrecker but at a safe distance as to not add fuel to the fire. The fire in your heart and the fire in his.

It was an extremely quiet trip back to the Marauder, you carried the lightest crate into the shuttle to give to Tech, who was tapping away at the ships panel.

"Leave it there, thank you." Tech didn't look back, his hands full of buttons and his mind whirring with shuttle components.

As you exited the shuffle, you saw Wrecker carrying the last of the crates, bringing them over to Echo and Hunter. You shook your head, you need to stop thinking about this, it's only making it worse for yourself.

You glanced to the pile of pebbles where Omega was playing catch with Gonky. The perfect distraction for you. You walked over, not sparing a second glance to Wrecker, who had his eyes glued to you before Hunter spoke up.

"So...?" His voice deep and curious. Wrecker didn't look at the Sergeant immediately but that was enough for him. Wrecker felt lower then the planets mantle like he could burn from the core immediately. He didn't feel great, his throat thumping every time he swallowed his failed words.

"I don't wanna talk about it..." Wrecker pouted, his heart slowly cracking.

Echo glanced at Hunter who also sent him a glance back, "I'm sure it's alright, Wrecker."

"Mhm." Wrecker hummed, abandoning the crate and walking into the shuttle. His eyes didn't leave you. You looked a little happier than him, you playing around with Omega as the light sun hit your cheek elegantly. He could've experienced that sight almost everyday up close, oh if only...

He sighed, shaking his head and entering the ship.

It wasn't hard to miss Wreckers presence. Tech turning around to face his brother. Wrecker looked up at Tech and then to Crosshair who was sat on his bunk.

"Something on your mind?" Crosshair hissed.

Tech grabbed his datapad and exited the cockpit, "How was your—"

"I don't wanna talk about it!" Wrecker finally grumbled out, slight anger filling him. His fists were balled up for a brief moment, loosening after realising anger won't solve anything.

He breathed heavily, "I... just don't want to talk." His head hung low, lower than ever. His slumped and heavy footsteps clanged against the shuttle floor as he made his way to the chairs. There was creak as he plopped himself down.

Tech peered at him, debating whether he should speak with him or leave him alone. He began walking towards him before Crosshair's hand came out to stop him, almost saying 'don't.'

Wreckers hands came up to cup his face, covering his eyes. He didn't want to cry, this matter wasn't worth crying over. Even then, his eyes felt dry, no tears would've come out anyway. It's like a sponge was his internal emotion control.

He clenched his teeth, his shoulders slumping and his head going limp in his hands. Wreckers heart hurt and was heavier than the soldier that owned it.

What will he do now? Do you feel the same way? Will you just neglect him?

No, that's heartless. As much as Omega prancing around with the butterflies distracted you, you couldn't stop thinking about Wreckers confession.

Do you like him back or did you reject him because you weren't ready? Your heart ached too but not in the same way as Wrecker. It wasn't heavy, but light. Like it would fly right out of your chest and into the man you... like?

No, just light enough that it would fly out of your chest and float along with the strong gusts of winds. Away and away and alone. No one to hold it and no one to care for it.

Was saying no really the right answer? Is it too late to go and tell Wrecker?

Sigh.

You think it is.

-

Post-Notes: SORRY IF ITS STOO SAD I WONT DO IT AGAIn (unlessssssss)

~ ~ ~

@elsastoes @nekotaetae @jiabeewrites @lokigirlszendaya @imalovernotahater @backyard-bear @namesmox @afuckinnerfpuncher

my taglist form!

[thisonesatellite]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by the amazing and infinitely talented @voylitscope. Thank you so much! 💕💕💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

37.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

607,929

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now primarily stucky /MCU.

i got started with CS /OUAT (which i no longer write for), and have also ventured into dramione /HP (where i will go again as soon as i have some time).

i also wrote one Leverage fic, which --- guys, i don't know what happened there. It just knocked on my door and demanded to be written. 🤷‍♀️

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

This is interesting. i would have thought the OUAT fics would grab all top 5 spots, because they've been around the longest, but actually---

we build our lives out of chaos and hope - dramione

Burn To Shine - stucky

The Unexpected Life - CS

break me - CS

if you live by the word, you die by the pen - CS

If you're counting by fandom, well -- i mean, i have exactly five stucky fics so far. That's the top five right there. 😂 (There will be more soon, and then we can see who grabs the brass rings.)

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

ALWAYS. Always always always. i love comments. They make my day.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

OK. Like. i don't write angsty endings, OK? i may or may not put my characters through the fucking wringer during a fic, but i ALWAYS HEA them, you feel me.

Having said that, i think militae species amor est (CS) is the one with the least openly stated fluff at the end. (Then again, the title is a quote i ripped off Ovid which means "love is a kind of warfare". Take from that what you will. 😂)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uh, all of them? i happy end HARD, ok?

If you're going to make me pick, for stucky it's probably a tie between Burn To Shine and a handful of dust. (So far. There will be others.)

For all of my fic across fandoms, it's everybody knows (CS). Which is also by far the most complex emotional character arcs for an OTP i've ever wrapped around an impossibly complicated plot line. And angst abounded here. Such abounding. The ending had to make up for it and consequently will rot every last one of your teeth.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far. i once had someone tell me in great detail why they didn't like my writing style, but while i did wonder why they bothered to read my fic in the first place if my style wasn't for them, i don't count it as hate.

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

Ah. The eternal question. No, i don't. i don't know how. i don't think there's anything wrong with smut at all, but i can't write it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i don't write crossovers. Lots of AUs, but no crossovers. i don't like to cross the streams. 😂

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that i know of, knock on wood.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! My lovely and wonderful friend @mariakov81 translated her birthday fic ad extremum terrae into Ukrainian. i may have cried when she told me.

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

Yes. The Sword and The Heart - with the amazing and talented @ohmightydevviepuu. It was one of the hardest and yet one of the most rewarding experiences of my writing life and i strongly recommend the process to every writer out there. The things you will learn about yourself and your writing are immeasurable, and you will emerge a better writer for it.

Also, it was so much fun.

(All the credit here goes to @ohmightydevviepuu, whose patience was infinite every time i went and did A Thing with the plot and the characters. She is the reason we have a fic at all.)

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

i think stucky will always have a place in my heart. (So will many others, some of which i don't even write for, but stucky is my fave, i think.)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

None. i am a very linear writer. i write one fic at a time. Therefore i never have any additional WIPs cooking, and so i do finish everything i start.

i know. So annoying. 😂

16. What are your writing strengths?

Character development, realistic dialogue, action. (Also probably plot underpinned by emotion. While i'm patting myself on the back here.)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

SMUT. i cannot write it (as stated above). Which means there will always be a sense of the explicit lacking in my fic, and i'm sorry for that. But i can't change it.

And certain popular tropes--- some of them perennial favorites--- do nothing for me, so i am also unable to write them.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i have utilized the fact that i speak more than one language, and have several good friends who speak other languages, in some of my stucky fics. But i will say that sometimes it's hard to keep true to the characters in a different language.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Once Upon A Time (OUAT). It's the one that started it all. i was never going to write, you know. And then, one day, i--- did.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

OMG. You're going to make me choose? Between all the blood, toil, tears, and sweat on every page? Yes, i'm being dramatic.

My favorite fic (IF i HAVE TO PICK ONE) is probably we kill the flame (CS). It plays in my favorite sandbox -- cyberpunk dystopia -- and i built an entire world for it. In painstaking detail.

My favorite stucky (so far) is probably despite all my rage - for much the same reasons: World building and cyberpunk dystopia. Also because it has my favorite Sam and Clint.

Honorable mention has to go to Burn To Shine (stucky), which introduced me to the pure and unadulterated fun that is Grumpy!Bucky (who is now my favorite chew toy), as well as the disaster muppet combo that is Scott and Clint, and we build our lives out of chaos and hope (dramione), because i went on a thinly-veiled political tear halfway through it and still cannot believe i got away with it.

.

Absolutely zero pressure tags for @sparkagrace , @cable-knit-sweater, @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy, @wistfulcynic, @ohmightydevviepuu, and @mxaether 💕

[chaotictarlos]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Thank you both for the asks! I love this little game! It's always nice to have a reason to brag about my writing or shine some light on fics I wished people looked at more. In no particular order, here's a list of mine.

You took the best of my heart and left the rest in pieces - This is one of my favorite fics that I've written in this fandom. It's a character study and exploration of emotions through Carlos' POV of the breakup era. I enjoy writing the breakup era and writing the boys getting back together, and how each of them make their way back to the other. This is the first part in a series of what will be three fics. It can also be read on it's own. (I'm currently working on the TK POV one but real life has been busy lately)

I’ve always dreamed of me and you, now here we are - summary: It's a tale as old as time, meeting the right person but during the wrong time of life. TK Strand and Carlos Reyes dated in college but parted ways when they graduated, not knowing they would ever see each other again. Six years later, Carlos is working as a social worker in Travis County and TK has just accepted a position as a professor at The University of Texas at Austin. They run into each other when a mutual friend invited TK out for the evening. This is a fic that I've taken a pause on because of some truly nasty people who, instead of not reading, decided that they wanted to send hateful words my way. I want to get back into this fic, I have so many ideas for it and how I want them to eventually end up back together. I have the next chapter written and ready to post, I've just been anxious about it.

With love, your soulmate - summary: Carlos Reyes doesn’t think he has a soulmate. In the 22 years he had been alive he had never found anything that would tell him otherwise. At first, it bothered him that he was seemingly without anyone and that there wasn’t a perfect person out there for him but he learned to grow comfortable with that information. He learned to adapt, to date enough that he wouldn’t be lonely, and on the nights when he was without anyone he found ways to make himself feel good. He was content. Or so he thought so until a letter arrived on the day of his 22 birthday. A letter addressed to him, from the past and from his soulmate. From there, they start talking. Leaving letters for each other to find and read, falling in love through the words that they shared. Will TK ever catch up to Carlos so that they can have their happy ever after? Or will time remain cruel to them? **Soulmate AU based on the short film Brooklyn Love Stories - Long Time Distance Relationship with Ronen** This fic was such a labor of love because it was so hard at times to figure out timelines and to get it the way that I wanted it to go. In the end, it was so worth it and it's the first chapter fic I finished in this fandom. I also just love a good soulmate au.

Jingle those Balls - summary: Two families, one fake relationship. TK needs a fake date for his mother's Christmas Work Party. Enter Carlos. MY TARLOS HALLMARK FIC. I almost didn't write this but Cee encouraged me so much an dI am SO glad that I did. I ended up writing 20K words in two weeks and I just love how this turned out. It's silly, fun, a little angsty and smutty. Carlos is so sassy in it too. I had such a delight in writing it!

where do we go from here / how did we (i) get here? / And in your hands, is all of me - the parts I never let you have - I'm rec'ing all of these together because they truly need to be read together. These three fics kicked off my season 4 coda series and deals with the topic of Carlos being married to Iris. There's a fic from Carlo's POV, TK's POV, and then them together. I struggled a bit with the secret when it was revealed and this was a great way for me to work through it and I think I created some really good fics that deal with the topic.

Bonus +1

We can get a little crazy just for fun - My series of slutty Carlos fics. These are just fun, smutty fics that are inspired by Rafael's thirst posts and I always enjoy writing them. I think others would enjoy them as well.

[amtrak12]

I left 300+ comments on fics in 3 days

So the Seasons of Drabbles fic exchange just wrapped up its summer round, and I had a blast with it! I plan on making a wrap-up post about my experience as both a writer and a reader, but first I want to talk about how I read and commented on 338 drabbles (aka everything posted as of the day authors were revealed) in one weekend. 👀

Why

First of all, why the fuck did I read and comment on sooooo many drabbles? For multiple reasons:

I haven't received many comments on my most recent fic updates which has left me pretty bummed out

If I'm going to claim "Even a simple heart emoji goes a long way!" then I should practice what I preach

I was so excited/impatient for fic reveals that I skimmed through past rounds for fandoms I like and found a fic that didn't have any comments even 5 months later, not even from the giftee :(

So yeah, I was determined that every single fic posted to the summer round was getting a heart emoji and a kudos from me BARE MINIMUM! And if I'm kudos-ing and commenting, then I might as well read the fic too. What if it's really good? What if it's really sad and a heart emoji doesn't fit the tone? I need to know these things!

Methodology

I made a game plan. My baseline comment was a purple heart 💜 because that's my go to color. If I found something to quote, I quoted it. If it was angsty (or seemed angsty), I might do an 'Ooph!' before the heart, or even a broken heart emoji paired with a 'Good job!'. If someone did a series of drabbles and split the drabbles up into their own chapters, I switched up the color of the hearts for each chapter -- and yes I did comment on each chapter! As an author, I LOVE when I get comments along the way and not just at the end. And as a reader, it gave me extra space to quote or add commentary, if I had it (and sometimes I did!). Commenting on every chapter is 👍👍👍 Do recommend.

But did I actually READ every single one of these fics, you ask? Yes. Like 99% of them. There were a couple where I knew enough about the fandom to know I wanted nothing to do with that or where the series of drabbles was so long, that I was like "oh bestie, I can't do it. I'm so sorry :(" But I still skimmed those enough to grasp the tone of the fic so I could modify my heart emoji comment as needed.

Results

OMG it was so frickin fun! I mean, did my eyes start to bleed? Did I have to take breaks from reading because I caught myself skimming too much? Yes, of course. IT WAS 338 DRABBLES IN THREE DAYS! And not all of them were 100-300 words long. Some of those were 1-2k words! I should've taken more breaks than I did, but I really wanted to get all/the majority done before author reveals for arbitrary reasons only my brain knows (it won't even tell me you guys 😜) But even still, it was super super fun to see the huge variety of fics out there!

It's also been a blast to see the author replies roll in. Some replied before author reveals so they still showed anonymous. Most waited until after the reveals and I got to learn that WHOA, so-and-so wrote like 7 of those drabbles! *applauds* Sometimes they replied with a thank you, sometimes it was their own preferred heart emoji. It's so cute seeing how other people like to say thank you, because I know I've definitely settled into a 'style' when I reply to comments on my fics. 💜

Would I do it again?

I honestly don't know. It was exhausting burning through all those fics in such a short amount of time. Now this particular fic exchange is smaller and only runs four times a year, so give me three months and I can probably do it again no problem. But right now, I definitely need a break lol No regrets though!!

Highlights of my reading:

I learned Object and Concept Anthropomorphism is a category on AO3. 😲 Which on the one hand, shouldn't surprise me because I KNOW I read crack fic with anthropomorphism back on LiveJournal. But it still delighted me to see it pop up in this fic exchange. XD

On that note Chess Pieces (Anthropomorphic) is apparently popular enough to warrant it's own, individual, fandom tag. Incredible information to know!! I love that!

There's a user named DanceWithOrangutans and they seem to only request or write orangutan fiction or maybe Planet of the Apes fic if they feel like branching out. Truly an icon to end all icons! 🌟 They're my new favorite person and I look forward to reading lots of orangutan flash fiction in future rounds 💜

I have absolutely no idea what was going on in any of the anime fics but some of them were super adorable and fluffy 🥰

My absolute favorite thing was when people who actually know that fandom commented before me, so when I left my little heart, I would get to read them squeeing and crying and freaking out over how good the drabble was. :') They'd be like 'IT WAS SO IN CHARACTER!!! 😭' and I'd be like 'oh cool, the author nailed it! 😄' 10/10 experience

And to wrap things up...

Seasons of Drabbles: Summer Round Superlatives

Best Author's Note:

satisfy the desire of the afflicted by yesthisisnarumi (Dungeon Meshi, M, 300 words)

Hysterical author's note. Absolutely loved it. 😂

Most Baller Line:

birds of a feather by embraidery (Stardew Valley, T, 1100 words)

CAN IMAGINE WHERE A SMILE MIGHT GO???????? Are you fucking kidding me right now???????????? Brilliant work! A++ I'm still losing my mind about it!

I Don't Go Here But Holy Shit That's Good Writing:

recoil by Fleetling (The Man From U.N.C.L.E, T, 300 words)

The use of gun imagery to describe their relationship -- which from the one viewing of the trailer I saw years ago, seems pretty fitting for the movie -- just blew my mind. "voice cracking like gunfire" in the next paragraph? -- GOOD GOD! Again, don't even remotely go here, but damn this fic was really well written!

Best Username:

ECwrotethisforyou

You know what, yeah. You did write that, buddy! And you should remind everyone reading your fics that these are gifts! In or outside of a fic exchange. I approve! 👏

Best Story Structure:

If Comfy, Warm, and My Size, Why No Sit: A Meta-analysis of Research into the Warm Flat Rectangle by Dr Fluffy Jones by finerandbonnier (Original Work, G, 300 words)

YOU GUYS!!!!!!! If you have ever read a scientific paper for school or for funsies, you need to read this fic! It has FOOTNOTES! It has a BIBLIOGRAPHY in the end author's note! IT'S A FUCKING WORK OF GENIUS!!!!!!!!!!! 12/10 All the applause 🎉👏👏👏🌟