auroras and sad proses

georgia, she/her, writer.

[wonderlandprose]

...Ready for it? | Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Paring | Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Request | You’re officially my favorite human, and you’ve reached your target audience lol. Bridgerton fanfics based on Taylor songs? Yes please!! Could you make a female reader insert with Anthony based on ready for it? Thanks!!

What to Expect | female reader, Bridgerton sibling banter, Daphne playing matchmaker, Anthony being sweet and a little slow burn. If you want, listen to ...Ready for it? by Taylor Swift

Word Count | 2.1k

Author's Note | This is my first Anthony Bridgerton x reader fanfic and it was so fun to write but please keep in mind this is my first one so it probably isn't the best! I am merely having fun writing Bridgerton stories but I will also accept any notes from fellow authors on what I can do to improve. Hope you enjoy this story! (not my gif!)

Knew he was a killer first time that I saw him/Wonder how many girls he had loved and left haunted

Everyone in the ton knew of Anthony Briderton’s reputation.

He was a rake with a capital R, as Lady Whistledown would say, and y/n knew that from the first time she laid eyes on the Viscount. It was during a promenade in Hyde Park, of the season where Daphne Bridgerton was the diamond.

He had been preoccupied with his sister and her suitors but as Daphne walked away with another suitor that morning, Anthnoy was left to himself for only a few seconds until a swarm of girls formed around him and he just smiled. He allowed those girls to speak to him as he nodded and smiled. 

y/n wondered how many girls he had left behind for this day, how many of them he forgot about after their evening together was done.

She wondered how many of them were merely ghosts to him and even if they were nothing to him at least they got to spend a night with the Viscount, a thought that made her feel a twinge of jealousy. 

That very afternoon, after making lovely conversation with the Diamond herself, Daphne introduced y/n to Anthony. The brief moments they spent talking was both wonderful and frustrating for y/n because as it seemed, that very night, Anythony was all she could think about.

In the middle of the night, in my dreams/ I know I'm gonna be with you

The wonderful thing about dreams is that you could imagine anything. Even the impossible seemed possible in dreams which is why y/n often like to dream about what a life with the Viscount Bridgerton would be like. 

It had been a matter of weeks since the first time she had seen him but since there had been balls and gatherings, more than she could count on both hands, where he had been in attendance.

Tonight was like any other. She danced, though not enough to fill her card, drank lemonade and picked at the food all while watching the ton do exactly the same.

Most eyes were on Daphne Bridgerton and every suitor she danced with while most minds were wondering what Lady Whistledown would write about this week, which is why y/n snuck outside to dream.

It was not her fault all her dreams included Anthony, it was her heart that took over her mind anytime she saw or thought of him. 

It was her heart who made her dream about things a lady should not think of; like what his lips would feel like on hers and the weight of his hands on her waist. The dreams quickly moved around her mind as if flipping the pages of a book but they were just dreams. 

Though she knew in every dream she would be with him, y/n had to shake off the wildest dreams of a man that would never be hers.

“What are you dreaming about?” The voice of her friend made her let out a gasp.

“Daphne, you frightened me. What are you doing out here?”

She smiled at her friend as she adjusted her gloves, “Oh, I could ask you the same thing.”

“I am simply enjoying this nice weather away from the festivities but you are the Diamond so why are you here?” As quickly as her thought about the eldest Bridgerton came, they were gone now as she spoke to her friend who just so happened to be the sister of the man she was dreaming about.

“My dear brother is trying his very best to find me a husband but failing because he is over in a corner drinking with an old friend from school, the Duke of Hastings.” 

The girl spoke with little annoyance in her voice though y/n could not tell if it was for her brother or this Duke she talked about. y/n merely laughed. 

“Well I see Anthony keeps to his reputation,”

 Daphne sighed. “Mama wants him to marry, of course, he knows as it is his duty but I fear he’s going to be a rake for as long as he can.” 

y/n felt a twinge in her heart at her words, something she was unfamiliar with until she met Anthony Bridgerton. 

Every lover known in comparison is a failure/I forget their names now, I'm so very tame now

y/n would be lying if she said she remembered every name and word that came out of the mouths of the men who called on her.

They could be talking about the most interesting thing in the world and y/n mind would still be on Anthony. But now, as the season was coming to a close and Daphne had a wedding to plan, that did not stop her from playing matchmaker for her eldest brother.

“See anyone worth dancing with dear brother?” It seemed as if she had appeared out of nowhere as she stood next to Anthony.

He smiled, “This season is not about me, Daphne.”

“No but I am engaged now so why should you focus on only me?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Why not Miss y/n? I’ve seen you take glances at her, she’s very lovely and I would say a dear friend of mine.” 

“Daphne, what are you after?” Annoyance laced around his words even though he also thought y/n lovely.

His sister scoffed. “I am merely trying to make this an enjoyable night for you brother seeing as Benedict is nowhere to be found and Colin is occupied with Miss Thompson.” 

Anthony took a second to look around the room, his eyes lingering on his brother speaking with Miss Thompson then finding y/n laughing along with Eloisie and Penelope as if they were in their own world. 

He took that moment to study the girl, sure he had seen her around and even thought for a moment of how her dress fit her form perfectly. How the color seemed as if it was made for her.

“Oh look! There is y/n, y/n!” Daphne suddenly called, shaking Anthony out of thought. The three girls look toward her, Eloise leaned into y/n saying something that made her shush the girl playfully before making her way over. 

“Mr. Bridgerton,” She bowed her head. “Daphne.”

“Y/n, tell me, is your dance card full yet?”

The girl looked puzzled, “No,”

“Perfect! My brother would love to dance with you,” She gently pushed Anthony forward despite his expression that mirrored y/n’s. 

“Oh,” y/n paused looking at Anthony for approval, he gave a short smile. “It would be an horor Mr. Bridgerton.”

Just as another song started playing, “May I have this dance Miss y/l” Anthony said.

The pair made their way to the dance floor. But as Anthony took her hand in his, all y/n could think about was what Lady Whistledown would write about them.

Perhaps something along the lines of “it seems as though our Diamond was seen playing matchmaker for her Rake of a brother, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton as she set up a dance for him and Miss y/n y/l at the Queen’s Ball this past week.” something so simple yet so effective the ton would be abuzz.

“Miss y/l?” She felt his breath hit the side of her face.

“Forgive me, Mr. Bridgerton. I am not sure where my mind went,”

He smiled, “Perhaps it is like mine and wondering what that Lady Whistledown will write about this, about us.”

No tone to his voice seemed upset by that fact, he was merely expressing what everyone in this room thought. y/n included.

“And would that be so bad?” He twirled her around, their eyes scanning the room before y/n was back in his arms. “All I mean is that Daphne has expressed your desire to find a wife soon and perhaps this gossip will get across to every mama waiting for a husband for their daughters.”

y/n looked up to meet Anthony’s eyes, he tilted his head at her words. He considered them carefully before saying, “Surely their Mothers would love that but what about you, Miss y/l? Would you not love the idea of me looking for a wife?”

“Are you being hourmous?” 

“I am weighing my options,” He looked down at her. “We shall see what happens next season, perhaps you will not think of me houmors then.”

She breathed in and as the song came to a close, she bowed and said “I look forward to our next encounter, Mr. Bridgerton. Thank you for the dance.”

Baby, let the games begin/ Let the games begin/ Let the games begin/ Are you ready for it?

Dearest Reader, 

It is time for yet another season. Perhaps you missed me or perhaps, you missed the gossip big enough to send the ton abuzz. Well, this Author is here to inform you that there is gossip to address.

It would appear that the Bridgertons have already had another success, again, and the season has just begun!

None other than the Viscount Bridgerton has appeared to be looking for his Viscountess, over the summer.Though it seems that over our break he might have found a true love match. As you might remember last season this Author wrote of the dance Mr. Bridgerton shared with Miss. y/n y/l after the Duchess played matchmaker for her brother and was a success. This Author has learned of the love match between Mr. Bridgerton and Miss. y/n y/l who are set to be married as soon as possible. 

Apologies to all the Mama’s hoping for their daughter to win over Mr. Bridgerton but it seems like his rake days are over and this Author wishes the happy couple a fairytale ending. 

Your Truly,

Lady Whistledown

“Well,” Eloise started. “Word is out that you two are in love, a true love match in Lady Whistledown’s eyes.”

The girl handed the paper to her eldest brother, taking it out of her hands as his eyes scanned the paper. A lopsided smirk forming on his face, “We are already the gossip of the season, my love. And it is love, Eloise”

His younger sister scoffed though only as a joke. It was no secret Eloise was happy her brother had found someone, even if she was upset with him at first because it was Eloise who had known y/n first.

He turned back looking at his betrothed who sat with Hyacinth at the piano, their soft melody coming to a stop. 

“She has already written about us? We have just gotten back!”

Lady Bridgerton walked quickly into the room breathing heavily as if she had just ran from her previous space, “The Queen knows! She knows of your engagement and has just sent word that she would like to meet with you two. Perhaps she will arrange your wedding, oh, isn't that lovely!”

Anthony looked at his mother, a warm feeling settled in his heart. He had never seen her so happy, not since his father died years ago, and Anthony wanted to relish in this moment. He watched his future wife make haste towards his mother as they both discussed the excitement of the Queen’s letter.

“A wedding by the Queen,” Eloise muttered. “How extravagant could that be? I can just imagine,”

“Peacocks running around the gardens,” Benedict said trying to hold in a laugh. This only made the rest of the family laugh along, y/n included. 

“A horrid amount of feathers!” Hyacinth exclaimed. 

“Maybe she would lend y/n one of her grand wigs,” Colin laughed harder at young Gregeory’s words. 

“Oh god no!” Anthony spoke, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. “I love you, y/n but if you were to wear one of those things at our wedding, I fear my love for you will not be enough.”

Y/n giggled more, taking a seat next to Anthony who pulled her in and placed a feathery kiss on her forehead. 

“I would not blame you, my Lord.” 

“Well,” Anthony said once the laughter died down. “Miss. y/l what do you say, let the Queen throw our wedding?”

“As long as I am married to you in the end Anthony, I don't care who throws our wedding. With peacocks and all.” 

[wonderlandprose]

paper rings | Benedict Bridgerton x reader

summary | Benedict fell in love with a girl he adored so much

paring | Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

request | hii do you still take requests? i really love your writing! can you do a fic based on "Paper Rings" for our best boy Benedict <33

includes | sweet husband!Benedict, Taylor Swift lyrics, pall mall with the Bridgerton and fluff like a lot (italic means flashbacks)

word count | 1.7k +

a/n | here is some more Taylor Swift and Bridgerton boys for you lovely reader! hope you enjoy this one. I am still taking requests but I will warn you it takes me a while to write them which I apologize for but I am doing my best! hope you all are having a great day <3

The moon is high

Like your friends were the night that we first met

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet

Now I've read all of the books beside your bed

She had met Benedict Brigerton unexpectedly. y/n had been trying to sneak away from the ball for a breath of air as her mama seemed to make every man in that house dance with y/n. If she had to dance one more time with another man who stepped on her foot, she was worried she would lash out on accident, giving the ton more gossip to talk about. 

y/n had successfully gotten away, walking the halls of the large country home. She had spent a few minutes walking about trying to think back to what she had heard Eloise Bridgerton say which door was the library. y/n thought she could stay in there for a bit before heading back out to the ball. She reached the second door to the end but before she could pull it open, the door moaned open from the other side.

“Oh!” y/n looked up meeting the eyes of the voice.

She recognized him because everyone in the ton knew who the Bridgerton’s were, y/n had conversations with Colin too since becoming friends with Peneople. But y/n had never come face to face with any of the oldest Bridgertons, until now she had come face to face with the second eldest Bridgerton.

“I am sorry Mr Bridgerton,” y/n paused thinking of something else to say, she could see multiple other men behind him. “I seem to have lost my way back to the ball.” 

“Is everything alright, Benedict?” Colin peaked over his shoulder, a drink in hand. “y/n? What are you doing here?”

Before she could tell her lie again, Benedict spoke up. “Lost her way back to the ballroom.”

y/n didn’t miss the smirk on his face as he eyed her again. “A house as large as this one is easy to get lost in Mr Bridgerton.”

Benedict laughed, y/n figured the men inside and him had been drinking. Colin opened the door wider stepping in between y/n and Benedict. 

“Allow me to show you back,”

“Actually, brother, I would be happy to show Miss,” He trailed off looking directly at y/n.

“y/n y/l.”

“I will escort Miss y/l back to the ballroom, I was just on my way out anyway.” The last part he spoke directly to Colin who simply nodded and bid y/n a goodnight.

Benedict gently closed the door behind them, extending his arm towards y/n for her to take. She did without a second thought, the walk back down the hall was full of stolen glances between the two, but once they reached the inside of the ballroom y/n expected Benedict to tell her goodbye instead he stayed.

“Is there a space for me on your dance card Miss y/l?” 

Her eyes widened. “I thought you were leaving Mr Bridgerton.”

“I’ve changed my mind, someone changed my mind and the other thing isn’t important.” He grinned pulling y/n along with him to the dance floor.

— — —

“Darling, have you seen my-?” Benedict's words died quickly when he saw y/n with the book he was looking for in her lap. 

“Hmm?” She hummed, not looking up from the pages.

Benedict couldn’t help but smile, he bent down next to her. “What are you reading?’

“Oh, well you keep saying how this is your favorite poetry book so I thought I would read it and we could talk about it.”

His heart melted at her words. It was something so simple yet made his stomach erupt in butterflies and he had never felt so much love for one person.

With a lopsided grin he said, “Will you marry me?” 

y/n dropped the book down looking at Benedict giggling. “Love, we’re already married.”

“Yes but if I could, I would marry you again and again. That is how much I love you.”

— — — 

In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool

When you jumped in first, I went in too

I'm with you even if it makes me blue

The colder weather was quickly approaching London. After months of glances across rooms, quick dances and secret meetings to get away from society Benedict had started courting y/n. It was a game of cat and mouse they played for a while but everyone in the ton, especially Lady Whistledown, had expected it to be a love match. Though the couple didn’t pay much attention to what other people were saying about them.

Benedict had invited y/n out to Aubrey Hall to spend time with him and his family. Benedict was planning on proposing to y/n that trip. He had waited long enough to make her his official.

y/n arrived early that afternoon with a grin on her face. She had waited all season to come back to Aubrey Hall and this time it was just her and the Bridgerton’s which was exactly what she wanted. As soon as she walked in Daphne and Eloise had stated there would be a game of Pall Mall taking place right now.

They had been playing the game for almost an hour now. Benedict kept his ball close to y/n’s so he could stand next to her when everyone else took their turn. The pair stood close to each other, not caring of being too proper in front of his family as she had noticed Anthony and Kate had forgotten proper public affection during the game. 

Just when it was y/n, Benedict placed a soft kiss on her temple. y/n pulled the mallet back and the ball straight on with so much power it plopped right into the pond. Without thinking y/n started to make her way to the pond not hearing the words from the Briderton family that they had lost another ball to that pond.

“y/n! What are you doing?” Eloise called just as Benedict was about to take his turn, he had not noticed y/n left his side.

y/n pulled her dress up so it wouldn't touch the water and tried using her mallet to reach the ball placed on top of rocks within the pond. “Getting my ball! If I get it, I’m still in the game.” She shouted back.

“Wait! Careful y/n,” Daphne tried calling out but just as y/n was turning to look at Daphne she slipped, falling into the pond with a squeal. 

“y/n!” Benedict took off running down the hill, pulling off his coat and diving into the pond with her.

A fit of giggles erupted from y/n as Benedict reached her. Quickly he realized the pond was no more than four feet deep and y/n was standing perfectly fine leaning against his side to keep her from falling as more laughter rumbled from her. Benedict laughed with her

“Why did you do that?” She finally got out.

Benedict shook his head. “I panicked, I wanted to make sure you were okay and it’s freezing!”

He pulled y/n closer to him noticing just how cold it really was after being completely submerged in water. Benedict began to lead them both out of the pond seeing that the rest of his family had been watching the scene unfold. Daphne and Kate stood at the edge waiting for them with towels. Once they were out and wrapped in towels y/n turned to Benedict, a heart warming smile on her face.

“You jumped into a freezing pond for me.”

“And I would do it again even if it makes me blue.”

— — —

I want your complications too

I want your dreary Mondays

Wrap your arms around me, baby boy

Benedict and y/n had been married for a month now and both never felt happier or more in love. They spend most of their days at home lounging around together as Benedict sketched and y/n read or models for one of his sketches. It was pure bliss for both of them.

Never did Benedict think he would find someone he could love so much, someone who made his heart swell with every little glance and someone who made him feel like himself. He wanted everything that came with marriage and he wanted everything y/n had to offer him no matter how good or bad it was. That’s what Benedict Bridgerton wanted and that’s what he had.

Now as the pair sat on the couch together he took y/n’s left hand and rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. He placed the sketch book down, taking a second to look at her, studying her features and just look at the women he loved.

“You’re staring at me, darling.” y/n said without looking up from her book, a grin forming on her lips.

“I am simply looking at the women I love, can a husband not do that?” 

y/n blushed at his words leaning into his side, Benedict still playing with her hand twisting the ring on her finger. He studied the ring, it was a very simple ring but y/n loved it, however, Benedict didn’t know if she did or not. He was the one who picked it out from his mothers collection but never asked her if she liked it.

“Darling, would you like a better ring? Perhaps with a bigger jewel, I know I can get you one if you so wish.” Benedict continued to rant about buying her a different ring but y/n stopped him but a light squeezed of his hand to reassure him.

“Benedict I don't need a big ring or a new one for that matter. This one is special to both of us and I love it,”

“But you deserve more.” He sighed.

“All I want is you Benedict and you could have given me a ring made out of paper, and I would have still said yes. I don’t need anything new or shiny because you’re the one that I want.”

The biggest feeling of love washed over him in that moment, he pulled her in for a kiss. A kiss meant to say more words than he could ever utter.

---

bridgerton masterlist

tag list: @heyyitsreign @redgetawaycar @rexit-mo @hanster1998@livstilinski @diamondbitch116 @evqans (click here if you want to be on my tag list)

[wonderlandprose]

all i’ve wanted was Benedict to have his season and here we are!!

[softlyspector-deactivated202408]

Significant

Summary: Din has been calling you riduur for months. You finally find out what it means, and get a little more than you bargained for.

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader

Word Count: ~5.1k

Warnings: pining, absolute FOOLS in love, bit of grumpy x sunshine, lil angsty, possibly incorrect lore, fluff, lots of Mando'a (translations for the Mando'a at the end)

A/N: Happy Mandalorian Eve!! This is based on a short drabble I wrote, which you can find here! It's not necessary to read it first, though of course I recommend it! The reader and Din have been traveling together for a long time, and after removing his armor in front of the reader for the first time began calling them riduur.

“Riduur.” 

It may as well be your name, the way you turn at the sound of that word. 

“Din,” you return, adjusting the child’s little sleeve which had fallen down past his hand.

“Are you ready?” He asks as he tilts his head to the side. 

You smile and turn back to Grogu. “Dad’s impatient today, isn’t he?” The child coos up at you, lifting tiny arms, ready to be picked up. “Yeah, he is.”

“I’m not impatient,” Din grumbles lowly.

You raise a brow at that and lift Grogu into your arms. “You’re always impatient, Mando.” His head jerks to the side at your assessment.

You have to bite back a laugh. In truth, he is incredibly patient. Most of the time, and especially when it came to you and Grogu. The only time you’ve seen him truly lose his temper was with the Jawas, and really, that couldn’t be helped. 

The child reaches for Din when you turn back to him, and the Mandalorian immediately holds out his arms to take him from you. You deposit the little green baby there before grabbing your shawl. “Yes, we’re ready,” you finally answer. 

The baby gets tucked into the pouch at Din’s hip, before he descends the ship’s ramp out into the desert air that awaits you. 

You roll your eyes gently. 

Not impatient, but not entirely patient either. 

You follow, wrapping the light material around your shoulders. 

It’s subtle, but he does wait for you, his pace slower than if he were alone. His right elbow ticks out a fraction, and you smile before cupping your hand there. He would never ask you to take his arm, still the offer is usually there if he can accommodate it. 

He relaxes a little when you fit your hand against his bicep. “Supplies only,” he reminds you, ever practical. 

“Supplies only,” you agree. “Unless I see something for Grogu.” 

“The child is becoming spoiled,” he complains lightly. “We won’t have enough room in the ship soon.” 

You shrug and tighten your grip on his arm. You like the way he says we. So, you return with, “That’s just because our child deserves the best.” 

Din’s spine straightens a fraction and his shoulders tilt back. 

He’s somehow both stoic and incredibly bad at hiding his emotions. You can tell, just by the slope of his shoulders or the exact angle of the helmet or the precise way he stands or walks, exactly what and how he’s feeling. 

Or, maybe you’ve just spent too much time around him. 

Maybe, you just know him too well. 

And right now, he’s swollen with pride. Though you don’t know if it's because you’ve complimented the way he takes care of the child or if it were something else. Something in the way you said our.  

It’s not long before you reach the market, and Din sighs as soon as it comes into view. It’s much larger than the ones you normally frequent, a riot of color and sound that you both know you won’t be able to resist. The town seems to be in the midst of some kind of festival. 

The smell of fried food greets you before you’ve even breached the perimeter of the town, and your mouth waters. Something better than rations awaited you there. 

Din is single minded though, and you know he’ll immediately make for the most boring of the stalls and shops. 

Supplies only, after all, is what you’d come for. 

“Mando,” you remove your hand from his arm and he immediately halts at the loss of your touch and turns to you. “I’m going to go look around.” 

He stares at you, helmet tilting down. He doesn’t like telling you no, and knows it wouldn’t matter if he did anyways. But, he worries and so it takes a moment for him to reply. “Don’t go far,” he advises. “Do you have a comlink?”

“Yes.” 

“A weapon?” 

You pretend to search your person, “Hm, what’s that again?” 

“Riduur,” he reprimands your teasing. 

That word makes the inside of your skin light up pleasantly. Riduur. If only you knew what it meant. 

You’ve started to assume it means something similar to cyare or cyar'ika. But he’d had no problem telling you what those words meant. Darling and sweetheart and beloved. He’d had no problem telling you he was calling you beloved. 

But he no longer calls you cyare or cyar'ika. Since the first time he’d called you riduur, the day he removed his armor in front of you for the first time, he’d solely begun calling you riduur. 

Even your name is becoming a rarity from his lips. 

“Udesii! Yes,” you cross your arms. “You know I took care of myself for a very long time without you and nothing ever happened. I’ll be okay.” 

Din doesn’t answer, just sighs and gives a curt nod and marches off towards a shop selling medical supplies. 

The dramatics of it all makes you giggle. You like teasing him, especially because he thinks he hides how flustered you make him well. 

Although you enjoy traveling with the Mandalorian, alone time has become a complete rarity. You were always with Din, or watching your little green menace.

You eat your way through a couple of different stalls selling food, bundling up second and third servings to keep for Din and Grogu. 

Din wouldn’t think to get anything beyond rations. Both you and the child like a little more variety, where Din treats the act of eating like a maintenance routine. 

You drift past stalls hawking trinkets and jewelry, fending off the sellers as you crunch something sweet and sour you’d picked up at the last food stall, not entirely sure what it is.  

Textiles are next, bolts of cloth you run your fingers over but mourn not being able to afford. Still, it's nice to browse, nice to feel normal. The Mandalorian isn’t hunting someone for once, and you aren’t trapped in the interior of the ship, stale recycled dry air burning your nostrils. 

A little supply stop has become a little welcome relief. It’s giving you the chance to stretch your legs, to explore. 

Still, your mind drifts back to Din, the way he calls you something he would not name to you.

You’ve searched before, in other markets, on other worlds, for the answer to your question. What does that word mean and why won’t Din tell you? 

You’d tried to convince him once or twice, with gentle words whispered in his ear, when the helmet was off and your hands were pressed against his skin, the contours of his face still a mystery to you. 

Once, you’d felt the skin of his cheeks go hot beneath your hands when you told him he used his tongue so prettily, couldn’t he use it to tell you what riduur meant? 

He’d mumbled something else in Mando’a but had not explained himself. 

You can understand most of that he says now, but because he’s the only other speaker, you have to rely on him to tell you what new words and phrases mean.

Because the Mandalorians are such an insular people, you never come across any other speakers you could ask. There are no dictionaries to Basic that you could download and peruse. 

It’s frustrating, especially since the word seems to be laden with something heavy. Din says it with reverence, with a softness that doesn't cut through the rest of his words. His voice is softer when he speaks Mando’a anyways, but that word is held with a reverence on his tongue, like it’s precious. 

The only other time you had heard him use that tone was when he once called Grogu ad’ika, which meant child. 

You’ve almost given up on knowing, resigned to that fact that you may never know and he may never tell you.

Whatever it means, you’re sure it's important. You just don’t know why.

The market is loud, boisterous and colorful. Music floats through the air, shouts and laughter. 

It’s nice, it makes you smile and you wish you’d taken the child with you because you’re sure he’d have much more fun with you than with Din picking out rolls of bandage and rations and pulse rifle cartridges if he can find someone that has some. 

You stop suddenly in your tracks when you hear a conversation in a language you immediately recognize, the familiar syllables cutting through the afternoon chatter. 

You spin and find two men in robes speaking gently to each other in Mando’a. Before you can stop yourself, your feet have already carried you to their table where they sit sipping cups of caf. 

“Su cuy'gar,” you greet. They both look surprised, glancing at each other and then back at you. “Sorry to bother you. You speak Mando’a?” 

One smiles, “Yes. Of the few outsiders that do, I think.” 

“Were you foundlings?” It’s the only way, you think, that they could have learned it. 

“Once,” the older of the two says. “This one learned it at a university.” 

You can’t help the curiosity that burns through you, “At a university? Really?” 

“Only the very barest basics. From a woman being courted by a Mandalorian,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “That was a long time ago. Really I learned from him.” He gestures between himself and the other man. 

You shake yourself, “I’ve just never met another aruetii that does.” Let alone two of them, you think dizzily. Two outsiders who spoke Mando’a. 

“And how did you learn?” 

“My…” you trail off. 

Your what? You aren’t sure what exactly Din is to you, or what you are to him. You never have been. He treats you like you’re more precious than beskar, yet everything between you remains undefined. 

“My traveling companion. He’s a Mandalorian.” You swallow, “I wonder if you could tell me if you know what a certain word means? It’s one I’ve been curious about.” You don’t want to tell them that you’re seeking it out because it's something he calls you. That feels too private, too close to the chest. “He said it once and I’ve been trying to figure it out ever since.” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” 

“It would wound my pride. He’s already taught me so much. He overestimates my fluency.” 

They laugh and the man who was once a foundling says, “Yes, ask us then.” 

“Riduur,” you say, carefully pronouncing it so they don’t mistake it for another word. “Riduur,” you repeat with more confidence. 

The men glance at each other, brows raised. “Well, it has several meanings,” the more grizzled of the two says, “But I suppose it's all the same in the end. Spouse would be the most overarching translation. Partner, wife, and husband all work too.” 

For a moment, you can’t breathe, you’re sure your heart has come to a leaping halt in your chest. “Truly? Riduur?” You say it again, just to make sure. They laugh and nod and you decide to have your meltdown away from their table. “Well, thank you for clearing that up. Sorry again to bother you.” 

You turn away from them, a roaring in your ears. Your heart stutters in your chest. Riduur. He’s been calling you his partner, his spouse, for months? That word so softly spoken to you - to tease you, to call for you, whispered to you in the dark, said over and over, more than your own name. It meant partner, spouse, wife, husband?

Something inside you lights up with pride. The shape of it is warm, firm in the clasp of your lungs. Riduur. It’s a living, breathing kind of word, one that takes up space inside you. One you’re proud to bear the weight of, the title of. 

Spouse, you think, doesn’t carry the same gravitas as riduur. There’s something heavier and deeper in the word that a translation couldn’t really carry over into Basic. 

You start back down the road, smiling to yourself, but only make it several paces when Din steps up beside you silently from between two stalls. “Dank farrik,” you gasp, stumbling back. “Where did you come from? You scared me.” 

He doesn’t answer you, doesn’t even tilt his head towards you. You may as well have not spoken at all. 

“Mando?” 

Still, he doesn’t answer you. 

You raise a brow but don’t say anything else as he herds you gently out of the market, desert dust swirling around your calves. Eventually, when you reach the edge of the town, he asks, “Did you find everything you need?” His voice is flat, rough. 

“Yes, I got some food for you and Grogu to try. A little feast for you tonight, since it won’t hold.”

He merely grunts and you frown. “Is something wrong?” You glance over your shoulder. “Did something happen? Are we being followed?”

You glance around his legs at the baby, still securely in the brown canvas bag, who’s peering up at both of you with anxious eyes, big ears drooping. 

“No.” He answers curtly. 

The walk back to the ship is silent, and tense, and you aren’t sure why. 

It’s only when you’re in the safety of the mouth of the ship’s ramp, with the baby in your arms, that your irritation spills over. “Are you upset with me? I didn’t wander. I stayed close and had a weapon and -,” 

Din’s hands go to his hips, helm tilting at an angle as he regards you. His voice is agitated when he finally speaks. You expect him to tell you that you wandered too far, that he commed you and you hadn’t picked it up, that you’d unknowingly wandered into danger. And you expect to have to tell him once again that it's all fine, that you are fine, that you’d traveled without him for years and things always turned out alright. 

Instead, he says, “You should not call yourself an aruetii. That is not what you are.” 

For a moment, it doesn’t register with you what he’s talking about, that he’d clearly overheard your conversation with the Mando’a speakers, likely eavesdropped on it. 

All you are, for a few seconds, is confused. “But…I am an aruetii. I am not a Mandalorian.”

Din’s shoulders go stiff at your words. “That does not make you an outsider. You…you are far from an outsider,” he growls and suddenly spins away from you, his footfalls heavy and loud when he stomps across the hull.

He climbs the ladder to the cockpit and disappears, leaving both you and the baby alone, still standing on the ramp up to the ship. “He’s angry with me,” you say in disbelief, glancing down at the child in your arms, not really understanding why. “We’ll let him cool off,” you decide, bouncing the child against your waist. “Hungry?” 

The baby coos and you smile, worry biting into you as you settle with him in the mouth of the ship. The sun is setting on the sand, the air warm, casting red shadows over the world. There’s nothing around you but sand in any direction you glance, aside from the town from which you’d come on the horizon. 

In the distance, fireworks from the town explode in the sky. You point them out to Grogu, gently feeding him bites of food that you’d gotten at the market. He makes a sound that you suppose is a giggle, big eyes focused on the colors dissipating in the sky. He holds a tiny hand up, like he’d like it to fly to him. 

You curl a hand over his. “None of that,” you say with a laugh. “Those are meant for the stars, not you.” 

He goes back to eating, already distracted. 

A weight settles over your chest.

If Din heard you call yourself aruetii then he knows that you now know what riduur means. 

Maybe that was the true source of his irritation, that you’d gone behind his back to figure out what it meant when he clearly hadn’t wanted you to know.

You rub the tip of Grogu’s ear between your fingers and sigh. 

Any warm feelings you’d had are gone. 

Riduur. 

He’s been calling you that for months. But he hadn’t wanted you to know that he was calling you his partner. For some reason it stings. 

The Mandalorian is not cruel, not the type to play with another’s feelings. But, nonetheless, it feels like he might have been. Teasing you in a way you couldn’t begin to guess at. Or, like he could pretend without actually attaching himself to you, and you’d be none the wiser. 

You shake those thoughts away, listening to the music echoing over the sands. 

When Grogu falls asleep and the sun is just disappearing behind the horizon, you secure the ramp of the ship and carry the baby up into the cockpit. 

Din sits silently in the pilot’s chair, and doesn’t look at you as you tuck the child into the floating pod. 

You fidget with his blanket, not sure what to say. 

“I’m sorry,” he breaks the silence first. “Ni ceta.” 

“Din,” you perch next to him in the co-pilot’s seat. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have gone poking around where I don’t belong. I’m sorry.” 

His head tilts toward you, the visor impenetrable. You swallow when he doesn’t answer, an inexplicable lump forming in the back of your throat. “Don’t belong?” 

“I shouldn’t have asked them what riduur meant. You didn’t want me to know.” 

Din stands and holds out a hand to you. You take it carefully and let him pull you to your feet. “That is not why I-,” he stops. “Do you really not know?” 

“Know what?” 

“I should have been…honest about the name I’ve given you.” He tilts his head and releases your hands. “I’m upset because-,” the Mandalorian pauses and seems to consider his next words for a long moment. Finally, he sighs and simply repeats, “You’re not an aruetii. By definition you can’t be.”

You stare at him for a long moment, before shaking your head. “I don’t understand.” 

He huffs, helm ticking to the side again. “Would you call Grogu an outsider?” 

“Of course not,” you answer, horrified. “No.” 

“And why is that? He’s not a Mandalorian either.” 

You don’t have to think about it, shaking your head before he’s even finished speaking. “He’s your child.” 

Din steps forward, close to you, but doesn’t say anything. “Our child,” he corrects eventually. “I am upset because you don’t seem to know you are a part of our clan. Even after knowing what I’ve been calling you. Riduur, ner riduur, for months. You still don’t know.”

Oh. Oh. 

“Osi'kyr,” you murmur softly. “How could I know that, Din?” 

He stands silent and still before you, so still you aren’t sure he’s breathing. “I thought it was clear,” he says stiffly. “I thought it was clear I was courting you.”

Something pleasantly warm settles in among your heart and lungs. “Maybe you should explain your customs to me more thoroughly,” you joke lightly. 

He doesn’t laugh, shoulders tense, hands curled in anxious fists. 

“So why not tell me what the word means?” It seems a bit past courting to you, to call someone riduur. It seems to you he’s already chosen you. 

He shifts from foot to foot, the movement somehow laden with vulnerability and worry. “If you did not…want the same - I’m not sure I could bear that.” 

You stare at him, not entirely sure what to say to that. “So, what,” you start, “you expected me to one day just realize you considered me your-,”

“I would have told you,” he interrupts quickly. “One day.” 

“Told me-,” 

“What riduur means,” he corrects. “And asked if you’d like to be that.” Din takes your hands again, “Just know that you are part of this clan, whatever your answer is.” His voice is so sincere, it breaks your heart a little. “Whether you want to be attached to me or not, you have a place in this clan. You are not an aruetii.”

You tilt your head at the same time he does, the nonverbal cues you both habit in reflecting between you. “I’m just a bit confused. Was that your idea of a proposal?” You smile so he knows you’re teasing him. 

Din gives a long suffering sigh. “Mandalorians do not propose.” 

“Oh. So what do you do then?” You lift a brow, sliding your hands to his wrists so you can work on tugging one glove off at a time. 

“We make an agreement,” he says, not trying to stop you. His voice is hoarse. “We make vows.”

You don’t look up, tucking the gloves in your belt before tracing your fingers along the veins in his wrists, the lines of his palms. “Oh. And did you make vows to me that I wasn’t aware of?” 

You’re still joking, but Din takes your words to heart. He shakes one hand loose from yours and presses it beneath your jaw, tipping your head gently back. “I did. I make vows to you everyday.” 

All the air seems to get sucked out of the ship. You gape at him, mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out as you struggle to find words. He chuckles, low and breathy beneath the helmet. You imagine he must be smiling. “Now you see how you make me feel. Like I can’t breathe.”

You finally manage to take a breath, lifting your chin away from his fingers, threads of embarrassment beating under your skin at his teasing. “You could have told me, you know.” 

“It was too large a risk. I wouldn’t risk you.”

Maybe you should hesitate in your next words. 

But you don’t. 

You’ve never been surer in something. 

“Din,” you step close to him. “I would take those vows.” 

“They…they are heavy vows. Not meant to be taken lightly. They’re bonding vows.”

He thinks you don’t get it, that you still don’t understand. “I understand what kind of vows they are. What are the vows?” You step even closer, the heat of his body seeping into yours. 

He smells like sun, like spices from the market and oil on beskar. It makes you dizzy, the usual scent of him is much cooler. Evergreen and pine. 

The cockpit is dark, the very last dregs of light on the horizon gone. The contours of the helm are shadowed, the flicker of lights from the control panels reflecting in blinking lights over the visor. 

There is no hesitation in his voice when he finally speaks. 

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” 

You mouth the words, doing your best to translate them. 

But he’s spoken too quickly, and you only understand part of it. He waits for you to ask for him to translate, giving you a moment to attempt it instead of immediately telling you. 

“I only understand part…We are one together and-,”

“We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors,” he says easily. “We are - we are all of those things already. I have kept the promise I made.” 

Your throat is dry, and you can’t think about how that’s true. “We’re raising warriors?” You attempt a joke. 

“Would you not call the child a warrior?”

“I would,” you agree. “I would also still take those vows, now knowing their meaning.”

There’s a long pause in which you can feel the Mandalorian’s stare. His gaze is intense, assessing, hot against your skin. You patiently look back, waiting. “You don’t have to.”

“You think I don’t want to.” 

He huffs, “I…don’t want you to believe you have to make vows to me. You are a part of our clan no matter what.” 

“Would you still call me riduur?”

“If you allowed it,” he takes a breath. “Yes.” 

The lip of the helm drifts up and you can sense he’s no longer looking at you, embarrassed. “Din.” His head snaps back down. “I know I am not an outsider.” You wait for him to digest those words. “I know this is my clan now. I still would like to make these vows to you.” 

He reaches up and presses his palms to either side of your jaw, the crown of the helmet pressing softly against your forehead for just a moment when he dips his head. “If you’re sure, repeat after me. We’ll say them together.” 

“Elek,” you agree. 

“Mhi solus tome,” he starts, reverence and disbelief lodged in his voice. 

In the distance, more fireworks explode in the sky. The colors reflect in the glass of the ship’s front window, sparking over the reflective helmet. “Mhi solus tome,” you say slowly, careful to pronounce each word exactly right. 

You’d never imagined yourself as someone who would get married, and certainly not like this. 

But that was before you knew Din. And all this feels to you is right. It’s both sudden and not. 

This was meant to happen. All your years with the Mandalorian lead towards this. 

You repeat the rest of the vows after him, slow and deliberate. 

When the final syllable rolls off your tongue, a muted kind of joy overcomes you. You’ve been a part of it for a long time, but you feel it now, the belonging to a clan and people. 

Din releases you and leans back. His chest rises and falls quickly. 

You close your eyes and reach for the edge of his helmet. 

You want to kiss him at the very least. 

But when your fingers skim over the release, he captures your wrists in one hand. You let go and Din reaches up with his opposite hand to take it off himself. 

You expect him to kiss you right away, but he doesn’t. You can only feel the lingering touch of his gaze. 

“Open your eyes.” 

“What? No-,” you begin to protest. 

“Yes. You can now, riduur.” The word rumbles out of him proudly, heavy in his mouth. 

You tilt your head and frown. “Are you-,” 

“This is the Way.” His voice warbles, just a little. 

“Are you sure?” You get the entire question out this time. 

Now it’s his turn to tease you. “No,” he says dryly. “I’ll change my mind after you open your eyes.” 

“Ha ha,” you deadpan. “You’re very funny.” 

“Open them.” 

You think you might be more nervous than him to see his face. You honestly never thought you would get to, and you had long ago made peace with that. It didn’t matter to you what he looked like, you knew his heart and that was more than enough. 

You’ve tried to picture him before, from tracing your fingers over his face, but the image is only half formed and without detail. It felt wrong, somehow, too, to try to picture the face of someone who deliberately hid it. 

 Slowly, you peek your eyes open at him. Whatever you had pictured is nothing compared to the man you find yourself gazing at. 

A sense of vertigo sweeps through you, because it's almost like looking at a stranger. 

You have to resist the urge, for just a moment, to tear yourself away from him. 

His hair is darker in color than you thought it would be, but just as feathery and lightly curled as you imagined. Din’s eyes are dark, a deep brown that you’d like to spend lifetimes memorizing, falling inside. You were right too, from your explorations of his face with your hands, about the shape of his nose, his mustache, the patchy beard. You’d pictured his eyes all wrong, the shape of jaw.

One thing you couldn’t have guessed at is the naked expressiveness in his eyes. 

It makes sense though, he’s spent a lifetime without the need to school his features into anything other than exactly what he was feeling. 

You wonder how many times he’s looked at you with such longing, and you never knew. 

He says your name, a question mark tagged onto the end of it, his voice wrecked and strange without the modulator muffling his voice. 

The sound of his voice rips the upside down feeling away. It’s his voice, it’s him. Not some handsome stranger. 

Your eyes flit up from where your gaze had lingered on his lips, the pink shape of his mouth against golden skin. “I was right.” 

He frowns, eyes soft and worried. It shocks you again, just how open his emotions read in his eyes. “About what?” 

“I knew you were pretty. You are pretty,” you tease, pressing yourself against him, the hard contours of him biting into you. You fist your hands into the fabric at his sides. “Mesh’la.” 

Din frowns at you. “I told you that means beautiful, didn’t I?” His voice is playful and doesn’t match his expression. 

You nod and don’t answer, reaching up to cup your hand against his cheek. Din’s arm settles easily around your waist, dragging you closer, the weight of his helm in his hand heavy against your hip. Normally, you’d let him close the distance between you but you can’t quite manage to let him now, gazing instead at the planes of his face. “Mesh’la,” you tell him. “Ner riduur.” 

“That’s my line.” 

“Not anymore,” you tease. “Husband.”

You tip your chin into his and wait for him to meet you there. 

He gives a slight smile before leaning into you. “Not husband. Riduur.” 

“Right,” you agree, because really, it isn’t quite the same. It can’t be. “Ner riduur.” 

The kiss lingers long on your lips. He’s savoring you, a warm passion that doesn’t quite extend into heat. Din’s tongue meets yours briefly, the groan it tugs from his mouth sending flashes of lightning all the way down to your toes. 

The fireworks outside are no rival for the feelings clawing up the back of your throat. 

You want to tell him you love him, but you think he already knows. 

He breaks away to set his helmet down. When he turns back to you, his hands roam over you, free in their movement, tugging at the band of your trousers. 

You can’t stop staring at him, suddenly overwhelmed, drinking in the sight of him, the naked expression of him, everything he’s thinking spread over his face like a well loved language. 

All you’d wanted was to know the name he gifted you, instead - this. 

You map your hand over his face, tracing the divot between his brows, the curve of one sharp cheekbone. “I never thought I would see your face,” you whisper. 

Those soft, vulnerable eyes meet yours, arm wrapping around you again, as he bare forehead presses to yours, “And I always knew you would.” 

Thank you for reading! Please let me know your thoughts!

Translations:

Riduur - spouse, partner, wife, husband

Ner riduur - my spouse, partner, wife, husband

Cyare - beloved

Cyar'ika - darling, sweetheart

Udesii - Relax, take it easy

Ad’ika - little one, baby

Su cuy'gar - Hello

Aruetii - outsider, foreigner, traitor

Ni ceta - an apology, rare

Osi'kyr - exclamation of surprise

Elek - yes

Mesh’la - beautiful

[wonderlandprose]

where do we go now? | joel miller x reade

summary: part two of right where you left me. meeting joel again was something you had thought about once or twice since you split up but meeting him like this, guns pointed at each other was not in your wildest dreams. inspired by where do we go now by Gracie Abrams

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: angst and sadness. can be read as a stand alone but this is a two-part story

a/n: i wrote a part two because in my head these two songs are just two povs of one story. plus taylor swift, gracie abrams, joel miller and pedro pascal live rent free inside my mind. hope you enjoy!!

’Cause now I’m half of myself here without you You're the best in my life and I lost you

Joel had thought about you every day since the day he left you. 

Memories of you and him left a foggy haze in his brain most days. Joel knew the reason why he left you, it was for your own good but what he didn’t understand was why he lied to you. Or why he decided to give into your fears of him falling out of love with you and leaving you for someone else. That night, the second you said Tess’ name he figured it would’ve been a better lie than the one he made up the night before and it was one you truly believed.

Since then, he hated the way he ever made you believe Tess and him were anything more than friends and co-workers in a sense. It had taken him weeks to confess to Tess why you weren’t around anymore and a whole lot of yelling came from his friend. Calling him stupid for letting you go, for creating a stupid lie like that one. Hell, Tess didn’t even talk to him for three days because she was so upset with him. But Joel couldn't do anything about it because now you were gone, hopefully far away from the dangers left here in Boston.

Except, he knew you better. You would have stayed and lived a life without him both hoping to never run into each other in the QZ again. Of course, that’s what you did or at least, tried to do. 

Things were fine for ten years which is maybe why he was so startled by the woman he loved pointing a gun directly at him.

Joel and Tess had only gone to find Robert and his guys for their car battery. This is why they had their own motives as to why weapons were being pulled out at two Firefly members in front of them. 

From your spot not even ten feet away you could see the gears in his mind turn at your presence. You hadn’t changed since he left except for maybe your hair and some new lines on your face from aging. Other than that you looked like his y/n, like the girl he loved and the woman he left. You wanted to forget why he left you but when Joel and Tess were both standing there, weapons at the ready, all that pain from the past came back.

Before anyone could exchange words, Ellie came flying out of the room next to Joel. He was quick to push her to the wall and you watched as she fell to the floor, knife sliding across the hallway under his boot. You made a gasping noise at his actions, having become protective over Ellie in such a short time.

“Joel?” Marlene asked, a bloody hand holding her side.

Joel looked past you as you tried to catch Ellie’s attention, telling her to calm down. The gun Joel had pointed at you made you extra still.

“Running with the Fireflies now, y/n?” Tess was the first to speak coming around the corner.

Looking back at Marlene she understands the look in your eyes and speaks for you. 

“Y/n has been helping us when we need it,” Her eyes drift to Ellie who kept her gaze on you, you mouthed an it’s okay to her for reassurance. “She’s been working with us for a few years now, more so with Ellie.” 

“Why?” Tess asked.

Quietly as you could, you did the best you could at trying to keep Ellie calm, the kid had a mind of her own and tried to take action.

“Give me my knife,” Ellie spoke up to Joel, reaching her hand out towards her knife under his shoe.

“Don’t.” He moved to look at her. His gun moved with his body directly at Ellie.

An angry chorus of guns clicked and echoed through the hallway. At that moment he took in your gaze. Hard and full of anger, more than he had ever seen in your eye since he met you. Somewhere in your eyes there had always been a hatred toward the world but you were an optimistic person and there had always been a hint of light in your eyes. Not now.

“Not at her,” You sighed. “Point it at me. Point the gun at me, Joel.”

Ellie sat there with a heavy breath and arms raised. Your protective side told you to shoot at him but the part of you that still loved Joel Miller told you to wait.

The man before you hesitated for a second. Why were you risking your life for this kid? He struggled to move his gun towards you, not wanting to look at you directly lined with the barrel. He and Tess had come here for a reason, and that reason changed but now it was about getting answers from Marlene with you in the middle of it, and by the look in your eyes he knew there was something deeper here than an ambush.

Slowly he moved his gun to you and pointed it at your shoulder though slightly over your shoulder. If he were to shoot for whatever reason the only damage it would do was to graze your shoulder, a part of you wanted to think further on that matter. 

Marlene's voice didn’t allow you to speak anymore, “To answer your question, it's our job to know things and y/n had some knowledge that we needed. But that’s beside the point.”

“Come on, Joel. That was a lot of gunfire, FEDRA going to be here soon.” Tess spoke behind him.

Your eyes kept going between Joel and Marlene, not knowing what to do. All you unwanted to do was help with their wounds and make sure Ellie was somewhere safe.

“We were going to move Ellie out of the zone tonight,” Marlene started. “We won't make it anywhere like this so now I’m thinking you’re gonna do it.”

Joel’s and your voice overlapped each other.

“The hell we are.”

“I can do it alone!”

And then there was Ellie’s, “I’m not going with them!”

“Who is she?” Tess asked curiously. 

Marlene stood straighter, “To you she's cargo.”

With that Tess and Joel looked like they wanted to run immediately out of that building. They didn’t and wouldn’t smuggle people. You stood there in shock wanting to reach out to Ellie for the comfort of your own self, it was selfish but being in the same room as Joel was sending an unnerving wave of anxiety through you. So many fears and emotions came back just at the sight of him, memories and thoughts of what could have been clouded your mind.

In your haze, Marlene started to explain the situation to Joel and Tess. The old state house, the Fireflies out west, and the promise of a car fully ready for them if they just took Ellie with them. In a matter of minutes, they were agreeing to take Ellie but she started to fight back.

Marlene rose her hand to keep her quiet, “Only condition is you take y/n with you too.”

Your haze was quickly gone and you started to stand in hope of making a different ending to this story. “I can’t go with them so just let me take Ellie by myself!”

“Yeah!” Ellie cheered. 

“It wouldn’t be safe for you to take her by yourself. Listen, I don’t know what the fuck happened between you and Joel because I remember a time when it was you two against the world and all that shit but throw whatever happened away. This is what’s happening now  and everyone gets what they want in the end.”

Your cheeks started to heat up at her words. Was it the borderline threat or the way even she remembered what you and Joel used to be? Before you could say anything else, Marlene was ordering everyone like the leader she is. Ellie grabbed your bags while Joel and Tess waited out in the hall conversing together at the end.

“Let’s go,” Tess said once everything was set. She escorted Ellie to the exit, the hallway falling still as you and Joel stood there closer than you had been in years waiting for someone to make the first exchange. The stillness of it all was suffocating with years tense filling the air.

Your hand reached out to grab his wrist though you quickly pulled your hand away once he looked at you. Both were surprised by the sudden touch.

“Okay,” You started, letting out a frustrated sign. “Joel, listen to me carefully because if we’re doing this I get to put in two cents. Ellie is my only priority. If anything happens to her, the smallest scratch or worse,  I am not afraid to shoot you or Tess so don’t give me more of a motive to do it.” 

Joel wanted to laugh not because he didn’t believe you but because he couldn’t believe the person you were now. Headstrong and tougher than the woman you once were. He knew you meant every word and he understood why you said what you did but part of him felt the deepest urge to reach out to you and give you a hug. A way to comfort you and tell you everything would be okay, he could see the care you had for Ellie and he missed Sarah at that moment. If he could go back in time and just be honest with you maybe things would be different, maybe you wouldn’t hate him and maybe he wouldn’t be half the person he was here without you.

“Joel?”

He raised his hands up in surrender, “I understand. Completely. And y/n, I am so-”

“No. We’re not talking about anything else, I can’t talk about anything else. So Joel, please, if you really did ever care for me you will forget our past as Marlene said. This isn’t just you, me, and Tess. It’s Ellie now too.”

Joel’s face changed at that moment. He saw a piece of the old him in you right there, the piece of him that had been missing for twenty years now. The feeling of caring so deeply for someone like Ellie, for a kid that you would do anything for. He understood that and he understood why you were how you were now, he had done damage to you without even meaning to. Joel still loved you and he would have done anything to take it all back and a piece of him would always wonder what could have been, where you could have gone as a couple. For now, he would have to take what he got, and right now that was keeping you in his life and helping to keep Ellie safe.

[wonderlandprose]

masterlist

request are open. keep a look out on my account for who request are open for at that time*

joel miller

the great war

right where you left me

where do we go now? pt. 2 of rwylm

anthony bridgerton

so this is love

sunday tradition

ready for it?

benedict bridgeton

my whole world

now i see daylight

paper rings

--------

[wonderlandprose]

right where you left me | joel miller x reader

Right when I felt the moment stop Glass shattered on the white cloth

summary: after days of silence from joel, you make him tell you what's wrong. expecting to talk it out and help him, joel reveals some hard truths about your relationship. inspired by right where you left me by taylor swift

paring: joel miller x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst and sadness

a/n: back with another taylor swift inspired fic. this is planned as a two-part fic, let me know if you would actually like a second part! feedback and comments are greatly appreciated <3 (gif not mine)

my masterlist

Joel Miller was a complicated man.

He had been through hell and back, multiple times, more times than anyone should. You knew of his losses, his gains, and his overall hard exterior that tried to bury all that pain. It had taken you a while to get things out of him and though, when you did, they were small but you were patient with him. You respected him when he didn’t want to talk anymore, especially when it came to his life before the outbreak. 

He had let you into his life during a hard time in everyone's life. You saw people lose loved ones, watched people find love again, and sometimes moments like that made life feel normal again. When you were with Joel you cherished every moment with him.

You were there for the hard deals around Boston, the jobs you would both pick up to have enough ration cards, and the moments where he got so into his head he built up walls even you had trouble getting down. Sometimes it seemed like fires burned and burned, one after the other. The lows were never a big worry until that week. Joel had been at a new low, one that started off normal and then grew quicker than you ever expected.

It was uncommon but when it did happen, he would voice his concerns with you. Give you some sort of heads up that he needed space and you wouldn’t argue because the last thing you wanted was to lose Joel and his trust. Call it what you want but it was love to you because even though you loved him and told him, you never asked him to do the same for you. Part of you knew he loved you without saying.

But that week, he stopped smiling at you, stopped reaching for your hand when he needed reassurance. After long days, he would come home late. Hours after you had waited up for him and when he did come home, he slept on the couch. An action that immediately told you something was wrong.

You had woken up to the cold empty bed for four days now, missing the warmth of his body against yours. Missing the feel of his hand resting in yours as you held him to your chest. He stopped smiling at you and reaching for your hand when he needed reassurance. 

You missed Joel. He could barely even give you a grunt of acknowledgment when you talked to him, and that was enough for you to finally speak up. It was the one night you managed to stay up and he happened to return at a decent time.

“Back so soon?” You spoke trying to keep your voice even, leaving enough emotions out of it to keep both of you at ease. But the look on his face told you that plan failed.

“I can come home when I want,” He huffed. Joel walked passed you to the small kitchen that took up a third of the apartment, he rummaged through the cabinets looking for something. A few seconds later he pulled out a bottle of golden liquid, staking a swig out of it.

You waited, watching him for any sign of less tense shoulders or relaxed muscles in his face but that never came. Instead, you decided to speak, carefully you said “Joel, I know something is bothering you and I have tried my best all week to respect you but please. It’s been days and I-”

Joel put the bottle down forcefully, and you jumped slightly in your seat. Never in your relationship had Joel done anything to hurt you or put you in danger, he was always so at ease with you that you were used to the quiet, sweet Joel. However, this Joel, the one with frowned brows and a heavy hand griping the bottle was worrying you.

“I just want an answer, Joel. Let me help you.”

“Stop living in your fantasy, y/n. How are you going to help? Are you going to keep waiting for me? Waiting on someone who won’t even come home on time? Or someone who hasn’t slept in the same bed as you for a week?” His words came out harsh. A tone you had never heard from him before, even the way he spoke seemed foreign on his tongue.

There was a change to his posture, he stood straighter and kept a distance away from you as if he got close to you some force would burn him.

“If you need me to wait, I will!” You fought back, reaching for his hand.

For a second the wall Joel built slipped, only for a second, you could see the pain behind his eyes. For that split second, you could see this hurt him. He quickly moved his hand from under yours as if your touch did burn him.

You could see everything behind his wall. One-sided hate, out to hurt you but something told you he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean for it to happen like that. Joel could barely look at you and instead, he kept his eye on one thing, a jacket left by the woman you had once called a friend. Someone who Joel had spent so much time with before you and now you knew what this act was about. 

That jacket had been your responsibility to take back to Tess but you just hadn't had time and Joel was taking other jobs that weren't with her at the moment. Too caught up in your head and Joel to remember it being there, it seemed like the problem was rooted in the women who owned that jacket.

You tried to keep an even face but it fell as your words came out, “Tess? Is this about you and Tess?”

“y/n, don’t do this-“

“No.” You stated firmly. “Be honest with me, Joel. Is this about her?”

He looks straight ahead, at the jacket past your shoulder so afraid to look you in the eyes. 

“I didn’t know it would happen,” His voice was soft again, like the Joel you had loved for months. Like your Joel. But hearing that was all you needed to hear to confirm the deeply hidden suspicions you had.

“Okay,” You nodded repeating the word until something made sense. Though nothing in this world made sense anymore not even your feelings because if things were easy, if they made sense, this would have gone differently. You would have asked more questions, listened to him, and talked everything over because that’s the least you both deserved.

Instead, all you could say was okay.

Joel started to slowly get up, his eyes on you and your eyes on the floor. Now you were afraid to look at him because all your walls were down and he knew that. It took a few seconds for him to move, he leaned down enough for his lips to hover over your forehead. I’m sorry, he mumbled placing a warm kiss on your forehead.

“You stay here. I have my things already and I’ll leave, okay?”

You nodded wanting to laugh at yourself for being so compliant with him. But what could you do? The moments you spent with both Joel and Tess flashed through your mind, the jobs you went on together, and the look in both their eyes that you could never read. They had always had some sort of feelings for each other and now you understood it all.

But that night something in you shifted. You felt like you finally understood the world you were living in and though, most nights, you sat at that table right where he left you and thought back to that night.

A part of you could never forget Joel no matter how hard you tried, and you tried. Avoiding him was easy, you knew where he and Tess got jobs and took them, it was fine for over ten years until it wasn’t.

Because you had daydreamed so much about what it would be like to see him again but what you never imagined was Joel Miller coming back into your life with a gun pointed directly at you and an immune kid in the middle of you.

[inklore]

this is your reminder to write whatever the hell you want. if you’ve been debating on wether or not to write that fic don’t think twice. just do it. it’s your blog. your idea. write it. share it. no more excuses!

[wonderlandprose]

the great war | joel miller x fem!reader

paring: joel miller x fem! reader (use of she/her pronouns)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: inspired by the great war by taylor swift, game/show spoilers, italics are song lyrics, small implied age gap (legal, of course), slight angst, tess not liking the reader very much, mentions of death, joel being sweet needs a warning of its own

authors note: this is my first time writing for joel and for the last of us series world. please be patient with me as i learn everything. feedback is highly appreciated <3 (i do not own the gif, created to its owner)

My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked

It had been twenty years. Twenty years of hell, pain, and grief. Enough to numb a person. At first, nobody understood exactly what was happening, one day life was normal and the next, people you loved and cared for were gone either fleeing for safety, dead or so close to death that there was no use in helping them. But then things were…okay, just not better. We used to throw that word around like it was nothing; you’ll get better, you look better, better late than never. 

You had spent years trying to be “better.” In every sense of the word, trying every day to be your best, to be the person you once were, everyone tried their best but it wasn’t good enough anymore. You had to be a fighter in order to survive. Past you would have cried herself to sleep at a minor inconvenience or conflict between herself and loved ones. Now, all you felt was a numbing sense of anger and caution in everything you did. Blaming your earlier life in Boston; a girl trying to survive by being a Hunter. At the time you didn’t realize what you were doing, killing seemed to be the norm now and maybe you should have stopped when closing your eyes at every kill turned into not blinking at a kill. If it wasn’t for Joel, you would have still been in that life.

Having met as Hunters, both trying everything to survive, you were surprised at how fast you two became friends. After being paired together for multiple hunts, you became close to Joel. Something about him and his experiences resonated within you, in some messed up way, both broken and pushing through the pain. At first, he didn’t talk much about his past, didn’t talk much at all for that matter unless it was for a job. It had taken six jobs before you got a full sentence out of him.

“Wow, so you don’t just mumble words or say orders like We go this way.” You teased, mimicking his voice as best as she could.

His eyes were dead set on you, afraid you had crossed a line. Then, the corner of his lips began to ease upward into a smile. The room was damp and dark, only the flashlights in hand illuminating the parameter. You could make out a slight smile before he quickly dropped it.

“You’re lucky,” He sighed. “You’re the only partner I’ve actually liked so far. Don’t test your luck, kid.” 

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Your friendship with Joel was a turning point in both of your lives, having someone to count on was nice.

Joel had been the one to get you out of the Hunter life. After a week of not seeing him, he came back to get you saying he had a friend inside the city who had been in their situation but she got out and created a different life for herself. Smuggling. It wasn’t ideal but far better than being a Hunter, and safer. That’s what Joel wanted, a safer life for himself and you.

Smuggling with Tess wasn’t what you thought. Joel had let you know of his friendship with Tess, they had been friends for longer than you and Joel but something about their friendship seemed deeper. Like the kind of companionship shared between two people only, the look in Tess’ eyes told you that. Though, you learned quickly that Joel kept most if not all, emotions hidden deep but there was still something in his eyes when he looked at Tess.

“Do you think love still exists? I mean, loving someone in here.” You asked one night. Joel had offered you a place to stay until you could find something comfortable to live in. You lay on his couch, the lack of walls in the room letting you see into his bedroom where he lay still, arms crossed over his chest. 

Over the course of your friendship, you had spent hours talking, smiling, and laughing. Making Joel laugh was one of your favorite things. It was something he admitted he hadn’t done in a while. The first time it happened, he had pulled you into his side, your bodies fitting perfectly against each other. His lips ghosted on top of your head, hesitating before he placed them on there mumbling a soft thank you and pulling away a second later. You couldn’t stop the redding of your cheeks or the way your heartbeat quickened at his actions. 

“I haven’t thought of it,” Joel grumbled from his bed. “Haven’t loved someone in a long time. Maybe it's just too far gone now,” 

You could tell from his voice that if things were different, he would allow himself to love someone. 

“I don’t think it’s too far gone.” Waiting a few seconds, afraid to say what you were thinking but if you never spoke, you might never know. “You and Tess seem to love each other, from what normal love is like.” 

Closing your eyes, you prepare for his answer. A sigh could be heard before his words, “Y/n if this is your way of asking if Tess and I are together…”

There was shuffling from his bed and then he was in front of you shaking his head, he tapped your thigh signaling you to love. You sat up giving enough room on the couch, shoulders pressing together. 

“It just seems like you two have something going on, I see the way you look at each other.” 

Joel sighed. One of those long deep sighs people did to let some profound emotion out, while you kept looking at him trying to catch his gaze. He kept his eyes forward, towards the empty apartment. “I appreciate her. She’s been there for me when no one else was. We’re a team and I trust her with my life.” 

"But do you love her?"

He took a glance at you before saying softly, "I don't know."

You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

Weeks passed and the conversation of love had died out. One evening Joel invited you on that mission with him and Tess. He said it would get enough ration cards for all three of you but upon arrival, Tess hesitated to accept you. 

“I said I could get her jobs! Not have her tag along on our jobs, Joel.” You overheard them from behind the door. Joel had told you everything about this job before you arrived, what he forgot to mention is that he hadn't told Tess.

When she saw you, Tess was quickly upset by your presence. Maybe she had the right to be, she and Joel had created their own system and own beliefs while working together. She had helped you get jobs, more than you ever expected and you were grateful for that.

“Tess, come on.” He tried to reason with her, his voice was soft. “She knows her shit, believes it or not.” 

From behind the door, you heard everything. The grumbles of Joel trying to reason with her, the sighs of anger when came to an agreement and when Tess pulled the door open wide she gave you a whole speech, the “rules of her trade” and how things were going to work. You agreed, not interested in creating an enemy out of Tess.

The mission went well. Your rations were collected and the three of you were content until you weren’t because of an ambush. Tess cursed a name, Robert, and Joel cursed alongside her. 

No one could have warned you about this, they didn’t even know so when you got injured while trying to fight Joel was quick to your side but Tess was quicker to blame you. Joel helped you and cleaned you up once things were safe enough. 

Back in the city, you left the pair without a word. Tess hadn’t said much to you on the way back but if looks could kill, you would be far gone. Though you understood her anger. Back in your apartment, a tiny palace smaller than Joel’s, you were eager to find any kind of alcohol something to ease the pain and anger that filled you. Nothing was found in your room and the day had exhausted you, so instead, you were at the kitchen table looking down at your dirty clothes and shaking your head. A part of you agreed with Tess and wanted to take the blame, it was your own fault. 

A knock sounded through the door. “Y/n? It’s me, let me in.” 

You could pretend to be asleep. Pretend not to hear him, he would never know. So you kept still and were careful not to shift in your seat or else it would give you away. 

“Don’t play games with me, kid. I know you can hear me, I just want to see if you are okay.”

Of course, you gave in. Opening the door to Joel looking down at you with a bottle of golden liquid in his hand. You take it from his hands and go to grab two glasses, “Should have lead with that.” 

After you had two glasses, Joel still nursing his first one, you allowed him to speak. Pushing the bottle to the side as a signal.

“You okay?” He nodded to your arm.

“It’ll heal,” You pause, taking in his features. The crease in between his eyebrows is less apparent as he lets his guard down, just for a second. Just for you. “You’re not upset with me?” 

Joel slouches back into his chair, knee bumping against hers. “Why would I be? We couldn’t have prevented that and yes, it was stupid of you to go after them without backup but you gave them hell. If anything, I’m impressed.” 

No matter how hard you wanted to keep a straight face, Joel’s words made you smile. You let out a sigh, shaking your head and trying your best to calm your heart rate. If there was something Joel did better than anyone else, it was reading you like an open book. He had proved that multiple times and you let him, every time. You were playing with fire.

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War

Everything changed when Ellie came into the picture. When he lost Tess. A month before it all happened, he told you about his feelings for you. Saying they had always been there, he was just too afraid to let himself care for anyone like that and there had been times when he tried to distance himself. But you were there to bring him back to light, to ease his mind, and take his time with you. He deserved that.

But still, you fought for your lives every day. Smuggling a kid like Ellie wasn’t easy, word was bound to spread about her being immune. You had to do all that you could to keep her safe because if you were being honest, she gave you hope. Hope for the future, for a better life. It wouldn't be normal, nothing could be normal anymore and Joel made it clear but things could be okay in the end. You two could be okay.

“Joel, please listen to me.” Tears filled your eyes. “It’s Ellie. She’s the key, you know this! Tess knew it and she fucking died trying to get her here. We can’t stop now.” 

The night had come fast and Ellie had passed out the second you three found somewhere safe to rest. Infected seemed to show up more the closer you went West and Joel became more stressed every minute. You could tell he had to remind himself why he was doing this, if it wasn’t for Tess, Joel would have never taken this job. And if it wasn’t for you, the only good thing in his life, he would have quit as soon as he lost Tess.

“If we keep going I could lose you!” Joel would not yell at you but he would get upset, and raise his voice a little and you couldn’t blame him.

“You won’t, Joel. You won’t and I know that’s stupid of me to say in this fucked up world but I love you, Joel, and if Ellie is the key if this is all for a reason, then we could be okay! We could have a life together and that thought, the image of us, is what keeps me going. It’s only a matter of what keeps you going.”

“Are you going to quit, letting me take Ellie by myself and leave us, leave me, to go home? Or are you going to fight alongside us? Because I fucking know Ellie wants both of us with her.” 

Harsh words made for hard emotions. But if that reality was all that would convince Joel to keep going, then it was what had to happen. You quickly realized you let out that you loved him but you didn’t care, it was true and if you waited to tell him you would never know if he loved you too.

Joel fought with his inner demons, running his hand roughly against his beard and neck. His eyes never leaving yours, his way of letting you in. You could instantly see his emotions.

“y/n, if we win this. If this war ends, I vow my life to you. A life with you and Ellie, somewhere safe and quiet. That is all I want in the end, I want you.”

a/n: i plan on making more joel miller x reader to taylor swift songs so if you liked this one, follow me so more updates on the other stories I have planned

[wonderlandprose]

the great war | joel miller x fem!reader

paring: joel miller x fem! reader (use of she/her pronouns)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: inspired by the great war by taylor swift, game/show spoilers, italics are song lyrics, small implied age gap (legal, of course), slight angst, tess not liking the reader very much, mentions of death, joel being sweet needs a warning of its own

authors note: this is my first time writing for joel and for the last of us series world. please be patient with me as i learn everything. feedback is highly appreciated <3 (i do not own the gif, created to its owner)

My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked

It had been twenty years. Twenty years of hell, pain, and grief. Enough to numb a person. At first, nobody understood exactly what was happening, one day life was normal and the next, people you loved and cared for were gone either fleeing for safety, dead or so close to death that there was no use in helping them. But then things were…okay, just not better. We used to throw that word around like it was nothing; you’ll get better, you look better, better late than never. 

You had spent years trying to be “better.” In every sense of the word, trying every day to be your best, to be the person you once were, everyone tried their best but it wasn’t good enough anymore. You had to be a fighter in order to survive. Past you would have cried herself to sleep at a minor inconvenience or conflict between herself and loved ones. Now, all you felt was a numbing sense of anger and caution in everything you did. Blaming your earlier life in Boston; a girl trying to survive by being a Hunter. At the time you didn’t realize what you were doing, killing seemed to be the norm now and maybe you should have stopped when closing your eyes at every kill turned into not blinking at a kill. If it wasn’t for Joel, you would have still been in that life.

Having met as Hunters, both trying everything to survive, you were surprised at how fast you two became friends. After being paired together for multiple hunts, you became close to Joel. Something about him and his experiences resonated within you, in some messed up way, both broken and pushing through the pain. At first, he didn’t talk much about his past, didn’t talk much at all for that matter unless it was for a job. It had taken six jobs before you got a full sentence out of him.

“Wow, so you don’t just mumble words or say orders like We go this way.” You teased, mimicking his voice as best as she could.

His eyes were dead set on you, afraid you had crossed a line. Then, the corner of his lips began to ease upward into a smile. The room was damp and dark, only the flashlights in hand illuminating the parameter. You could make out a slight smile before he quickly dropped it.

“You’re lucky,” He sighed. “You’re the only partner I’ve actually liked so far. Don’t test your luck, kid.” 

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Your friendship with Joel was a turning point in both of your lives, having someone to count on was nice.

Joel had been the one to get you out of the Hunter life. After a week of not seeing him, he came back to get you saying he had a friend inside the city who had been in their situation but she got out and created a different life for herself. Smuggling. It wasn’t ideal but far better than being a Hunter, and safer. That’s what Joel wanted, a safer life for himself and you.

Smuggling with Tess wasn’t what you thought. Joel had let you know of his friendship with Tess, they had been friends for longer than you and Joel but something about their friendship seemed deeper. Like the kind of companionship shared between two people only, the look in Tess’ eyes told you that. Though, you learned quickly that Joel kept most if not all, emotions hidden deep but there was still something in his eyes when he looked at Tess.

“Do you think love still exists? I mean, loving someone in here.” You asked one night. Joel had offered you a place to stay until you could find something comfortable to live in. You lay on his couch, the lack of walls in the room letting you see into his bedroom where he lay still, arms crossed over his chest. 

Over the course of your friendship, you had spent hours talking, smiling, and laughing. Making Joel laugh was one of your favorite things. It was something he admitted he hadn’t done in a while. The first time it happened, he had pulled you into his side, your bodies fitting perfectly against each other. His lips ghosted on top of your head, hesitating before he placed them on there mumbling a soft thank you and pulling away a second later. You couldn’t stop the redding of your cheeks or the way your heartbeat quickened at his actions. 

“I haven’t thought of it,” Joel grumbled from his bed. “Haven’t loved someone in a long time. Maybe it's just too far gone now,” 

You could tell from his voice that if things were different, he would allow himself to love someone. 

“I don’t think it’s too far gone.” Waiting a few seconds, afraid to say what you were thinking but if you never spoke, you might never know. “You and Tess seem to love each other, from what normal love is like.” 

Closing your eyes, you prepare for his answer. A sigh could be heard before his words, “Y/n if this is your way of asking if Tess and I are together…”

There was shuffling from his bed and then he was in front of you shaking his head, he tapped your thigh signaling you to love. You sat up giving enough room on the couch, shoulders pressing together. 

“It just seems like you two have something going on, I see the way you look at each other.” 

Joel sighed. One of those long deep sighs people did to let some profound emotion out, while you kept looking at him trying to catch his gaze. He kept his eyes forward, towards the empty apartment. “I appreciate her. She’s been there for me when no one else was. We’re a team and I trust her with my life.” 

"But do you love her?"

He took a glance at you before saying softly, "I don't know."

You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

Weeks passed and the conversation of love had died out. One evening Joel invited you on that mission with him and Tess. He said it would get enough ration cards for all three of you but upon arrival, Tess hesitated to accept you. 

“I said I could get her jobs! Not have her tag along on our jobs, Joel.” You overheard them from behind the door. Joel had told you everything about this job before you arrived, what he forgot to mention is that he hadn't told Tess.

When she saw you, Tess was quickly upset by your presence. Maybe she had the right to be, she and Joel had created their own system and own beliefs while working together. She had helped you get jobs, more than you ever expected and you were grateful for that.

“Tess, come on.” He tried to reason with her, his voice was soft. “She knows her shit, believes it or not.” 

From behind the door, you heard everything. The grumbles of Joel trying to reason with her, the sighs of anger when came to an agreement and when Tess pulled the door open wide she gave you a whole speech, the “rules of her trade” and how things were going to work. You agreed, not interested in creating an enemy out of Tess.

The mission went well. Your rations were collected and the three of you were content until you weren’t because of an ambush. Tess cursed a name, Robert, and Joel cursed alongside her. 

No one could have warned you about this, they didn’t even know so when you got injured while trying to fight Joel was quick to your side but Tess was quicker to blame you. Joel helped you and cleaned you up once things were safe enough. 

Back in the city, you left the pair without a word. Tess hadn’t said much to you on the way back but if looks could kill, you would be far gone. Though you understood her anger. Back in your apartment, a tiny palace smaller than Joel’s, you were eager to find any kind of alcohol something to ease the pain and anger that filled you. Nothing was found in your room and the day had exhausted you, so instead, you were at the kitchen table looking down at your dirty clothes and shaking your head. A part of you agreed with Tess and wanted to take the blame, it was your own fault. 

A knock sounded through the door. “Y/n? It’s me, let me in.” 

You could pretend to be asleep. Pretend not to hear him, he would never know. So you kept still and were careful not to shift in your seat or else it would give you away. 

“Don’t play games with me, kid. I know you can hear me, I just want to see if you are okay.”

Of course, you gave in. Opening the door to Joel looking down at you with a bottle of golden liquid in his hand. You take it from his hands and go to grab two glasses, “Should have lead with that.” 

After you had two glasses, Joel still nursing his first one, you allowed him to speak. Pushing the bottle to the side as a signal.

“You okay?” He nodded to your arm.

“It’ll heal,” You pause, taking in his features. The crease in between his eyebrows is less apparent as he lets his guard down, just for a second. Just for you. “You’re not upset with me?” 

Joel slouches back into his chair, knee bumping against hers. “Why would I be? We couldn’t have prevented that and yes, it was stupid of you to go after them without backup but you gave them hell. If anything, I’m impressed.” 

No matter how hard you wanted to keep a straight face, Joel’s words made you smile. You let out a sigh, shaking your head and trying your best to calm your heart rate. If there was something Joel did better than anyone else, it was reading you like an open book. He had proved that multiple times and you let him, every time. You were playing with fire.

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War

Everything changed when Ellie came into the picture. When he lost Tess. A month before it all happened, he told you about his feelings for you. Saying they had always been there, he was just too afraid to let himself care for anyone like that and there had been times when he tried to distance himself. But you were there to bring him back to light, to ease his mind, and take his time with you. He deserved that.

But still, you fought for your lives every day. Smuggling a kid like Ellie wasn’t easy, word was bound to spread about her being immune. You had to do all that you could to keep her safe because if you were being honest, she gave you hope. Hope for the future, for a better life. It wouldn't be normal, nothing could be normal anymore and Joel made it clear but things could be okay in the end. You two could be okay.

“Joel, please listen to me.” Tears filled your eyes. “It’s Ellie. She’s the key, you know this! Tess knew it and she fucking died trying to get her here. We can’t stop now.” 

The night had come fast and Ellie had passed out the second you three found somewhere safe to rest. Infected seemed to show up more the closer you went West and Joel became more stressed every minute. You could tell he had to remind himself why he was doing this, if it wasn’t for Tess, Joel would have never taken this job. And if it wasn’t for you, the only good thing in his life, he would have quit as soon as he lost Tess.

“If we keep going I could lose you!” Joel would not yell at you but he would get upset, and raise his voice a little and you couldn’t blame him.

“You won’t, Joel. You won’t and I know that’s stupid of me to say in this fucked up world but I love you, Joel, and if Ellie is the key if this is all for a reason, then we could be okay! We could have a life together and that thought, the image of us, is what keeps me going. It’s only a matter of what keeps you going.”

“Are you going to quit, letting me take Ellie by myself and leave us, leave me, to go home? Or are you going to fight alongside us? Because I fucking know Ellie wants both of us with her.” 

Harsh words made for hard emotions. But if that reality was all that would convince Joel to keep going, then it was what had to happen. You quickly realized you let out that you loved him but you didn’t care, it was true and if you waited to tell him you would never know if he loved you too.

Joel fought with his inner demons, running his hand roughly against his beard and neck. His eyes never leaving yours, his way of letting you in. You could instantly see his emotions.

“y/n, if we win this. If this war ends, I vow my life to you. A life with you and Ellie, somewhere safe and quiet. That is all I want in the end, I want you.”

a/n: i plan on making more joel miller x reader to taylor swift songs so if you liked this one, follow me so more updates on the other stories I have planned

[wonderlandprose]

just promoting my own writing <3 more joel miller x reader to taylor swift songs on the way!!

[wonderlandprose]

the great war | joel miller x fem!reader

paring: joel miller x fem! reader (use of she/her pronouns)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: inspired by the great war by taylor swift, game/show spoilers, italics are song lyrics, small implied age gap (legal, of course), slight angst, tess not liking the reader very much, mentions of death, joel being sweet needs a warning of its own

authors note: this is my first time writing for joel and for the last of us series world. please be patient with me as i learn everything. feedback is highly appreciated <3 (i do not own the gif, created to its owner)

My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked

It had been twenty years. Twenty years of hell, pain, and grief. Enough to numb a person. At first, nobody understood exactly what was happening, one day life was normal and the next, people you loved and cared for were gone either fleeing for safety, dead or so close to death that there was no use in helping them. But then things were…okay, just not better. We used to throw that word around like it was nothing; you’ll get better, you look better, better late than never. 

You had spent years trying to be “better.” In every sense of the word, trying every day to be your best, to be the person you once were, everyone tried their best but it wasn’t good enough anymore. You had to be a fighter in order to survive. Past you would have cried herself to sleep at a minor inconvenience or conflict between herself and loved ones. Now, all you felt was a numbing sense of anger and caution in everything you did. Blaming your earlier life in Boston; a girl trying to survive by being a Hunter. At the time you didn’t realize what you were doing, killing seemed to be the norm now and maybe you should have stopped when closing your eyes at every kill turned into not blinking at a kill. If it wasn’t for Joel, you would have still been in that life.

Having met as Hunters, both trying everything to survive, you were surprised at how fast you two became friends. After being paired together for multiple hunts, you became close to Joel. Something about him and his experiences resonated within you, in some messed up way, both broken and pushing through the pain. At first, he didn’t talk much about his past, didn’t talk much at all for that matter unless it was for a job. It had taken six jobs before you got a full sentence out of him.

“Wow, so you don’t just mumble words or say orders like We go this way.” You teased, mimicking his voice as best as she could.

His eyes were dead set on you, afraid you had crossed a line. Then, the corner of his lips began to ease upward into a smile. The room was damp and dark, only the flashlights in hand illuminating the parameter. You could make out a slight smile before he quickly dropped it.

“You’re lucky,” He sighed. “You’re the only partner I’ve actually liked so far. Don’t test your luck, kid.” 

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Your friendship with Joel was a turning point in both of your lives, having someone to count on was nice.

Joel had been the one to get you out of the Hunter life. After a week of not seeing him, he came back to get you saying he had a friend inside the city who had been in their situation but she got out and created a different life for herself. Smuggling. It wasn’t ideal but far better than being a Hunter, and safer. That’s what Joel wanted, a safer life for himself and you.

Smuggling with Tess wasn’t what you thought. Joel had let you know of his friendship with Tess, they had been friends for longer than you and Joel but something about their friendship seemed deeper. Like the kind of companionship shared between two people only, the look in Tess’ eyes told you that. Though, you learned quickly that Joel kept most if not all, emotions hidden deep but there was still something in his eyes when he looked at Tess.

“Do you think love still exists? I mean, loving someone in here.” You asked one night. Joel had offered you a place to stay until you could find something comfortable to live in. You lay on his couch, the lack of walls in the room letting you see into his bedroom where he lay still, arms crossed over his chest. 

Over the course of your friendship, you had spent hours talking, smiling, and laughing. Making Joel laugh was one of your favorite things. It was something he admitted he hadn’t done in a while. The first time it happened, he had pulled you into his side, your bodies fitting perfectly against each other. His lips ghosted on top of your head, hesitating before he placed them on there mumbling a soft thank you and pulling away a second later. You couldn’t stop the redding of your cheeks or the way your heartbeat quickened at his actions. 

“I haven’t thought of it,” Joel grumbled from his bed. “Haven’t loved someone in a long time. Maybe it's just too far gone now,” 

You could tell from his voice that if things were different, he would allow himself to love someone. 

“I don’t think it’s too far gone.” Waiting a few seconds, afraid to say what you were thinking but if you never spoke, you might never know. “You and Tess seem to love each other, from what normal love is like.” 

Closing your eyes, you prepare for his answer. A sigh could be heard before his words, “Y/n if this is your way of asking if Tess and I are together…”

There was shuffling from his bed and then he was in front of you shaking his head, he tapped your thigh signaling you to love. You sat up giving enough room on the couch, shoulders pressing together. 

“It just seems like you two have something going on, I see the way you look at each other.” 

Joel sighed. One of those long deep sighs people did to let some profound emotion out, while you kept looking at him trying to catch his gaze. He kept his eyes forward, towards the empty apartment. “I appreciate her. She’s been there for me when no one else was. We’re a team and I trust her with my life.” 

"But do you love her?"

He took a glance at you before saying softly, "I don't know."

You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

Weeks passed and the conversation of love had died out. One evening Joel invited you on that mission with him and Tess. He said it would get enough ration cards for all three of you but upon arrival, Tess hesitated to accept you. 

“I said I could get her jobs! Not have her tag along on our jobs, Joel.” You overheard them from behind the door. Joel had told you everything about this job before you arrived, what he forgot to mention is that he hadn't told Tess.

When she saw you, Tess was quickly upset by your presence. Maybe she had the right to be, she and Joel had created their own system and own beliefs while working together. She had helped you get jobs, more than you ever expected and you were grateful for that.

“Tess, come on.” He tried to reason with her, his voice was soft. “She knows her shit, believes it or not.” 

From behind the door, you heard everything. The grumbles of Joel trying to reason with her, the sighs of anger when came to an agreement and when Tess pulled the door open wide she gave you a whole speech, the “rules of her trade” and how things were going to work. You agreed, not interested in creating an enemy out of Tess.

The mission went well. Your rations were collected and the three of you were content until you weren’t because of an ambush. Tess cursed a name, Robert, and Joel cursed alongside her. 

No one could have warned you about this, they didn’t even know so when you got injured while trying to fight Joel was quick to your side but Tess was quicker to blame you. Joel helped you and cleaned you up once things were safe enough. 

Back in the city, you left the pair without a word. Tess hadn’t said much to you on the way back but if looks could kill, you would be far gone. Though you understood her anger. Back in your apartment, a tiny palace smaller than Joel’s, you were eager to find any kind of alcohol something to ease the pain and anger that filled you. Nothing was found in your room and the day had exhausted you, so instead, you were at the kitchen table looking down at your dirty clothes and shaking your head. A part of you agreed with Tess and wanted to take the blame, it was your own fault. 

A knock sounded through the door. “Y/n? It’s me, let me in.” 

You could pretend to be asleep. Pretend not to hear him, he would never know. So you kept still and were careful not to shift in your seat or else it would give you away. 

“Don’t play games with me, kid. I know you can hear me, I just want to see if you are okay.”

Of course, you gave in. Opening the door to Joel looking down at you with a bottle of golden liquid in his hand. You take it from his hands and go to grab two glasses, “Should have lead with that.” 

After you had two glasses, Joel still nursing his first one, you allowed him to speak. Pushing the bottle to the side as a signal.

“You okay?” He nodded to your arm.

“It’ll heal,” You pause, taking in his features. The crease in between his eyebrows is less apparent as he lets his guard down, just for a second. Just for you. “You’re not upset with me?” 

Joel slouches back into his chair, knee bumping against hers. “Why would I be? We couldn’t have prevented that and yes, it was stupid of you to go after them without backup but you gave them hell. If anything, I’m impressed.” 

No matter how hard you wanted to keep a straight face, Joel’s words made you smile. You let out a sigh, shaking your head and trying your best to calm your heart rate. If there was something Joel did better than anyone else, it was reading you like an open book. He had proved that multiple times and you let him, every time. You were playing with fire.

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War

Everything changed when Ellie came into the picture. When he lost Tess. A month before it all happened, he told you about his feelings for you. Saying they had always been there, he was just too afraid to let himself care for anyone like that and there had been times when he tried to distance himself. But you were there to bring him back to light, to ease his mind, and take his time with you. He deserved that.

But still, you fought for your lives every day. Smuggling a kid like Ellie wasn’t easy, word was bound to spread about her being immune. You had to do all that you could to keep her safe because if you were being honest, she gave you hope. Hope for the future, for a better life. It wouldn't be normal, nothing could be normal anymore and Joel made it clear but things could be okay in the end. You two could be okay.

“Joel, please listen to me.” Tears filled your eyes. “It’s Ellie. She’s the key, you know this! Tess knew it and she fucking died trying to get her here. We can’t stop now.” 

The night had come fast and Ellie had passed out the second you three found somewhere safe to rest. Infected seemed to show up more the closer you went West and Joel became more stressed every minute. You could tell he had to remind himself why he was doing this, if it wasn’t for Tess, Joel would have never taken this job. And if it wasn’t for you, the only good thing in his life, he would have quit as soon as he lost Tess.

“If we keep going I could lose you!” Joel would not yell at you but he would get upset, and raise his voice a little and you couldn’t blame him.

“You won’t, Joel. You won’t and I know that’s stupid of me to say in this fucked up world but I love you, Joel, and if Ellie is the key if this is all for a reason, then we could be okay! We could have a life together and that thought, the image of us, is what keeps me going. It’s only a matter of what keeps you going.”

“Are you going to quit, letting me take Ellie by myself and leave us, leave me, to go home? Or are you going to fight alongside us? Because I fucking know Ellie wants both of us with her.” 

Harsh words made for hard emotions. But if that reality was all that would convince Joel to keep going, then it was what had to happen. You quickly realized you let out that you loved him but you didn’t care, it was true and if you waited to tell him you would never know if he loved you too.

Joel fought with his inner demons, running his hand roughly against his beard and neck. His eyes never leaving yours, his way of letting you in. You could instantly see his emotions.

“y/n, if we win this. If this war ends, I vow my life to you. A life with you and Ellie, somewhere safe and quiet. That is all I want in the end, I want you.”

a/n: i plan on making more joel miller x reader to taylor swift songs so if you liked this one, follow me so more updates on the other stories I have planned

[myownworstenemyyy]

[girlinapapercrown]

where are the taylor swift and last of us girlies who can write a fanfic based on the great war with joel miller??

[wonderlandprose]

i have been writing something…not sure if i’ll post it but i like what i have so far

[wonderlandprose]

i miss writing fanfics

[wonderlandprose]

...Ready for it? | Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Paring | Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Request | You’re officially my favorite human, and you’ve reached your target audience lol. Bridgerton fanfics based on Taylor songs? Yes please!! Could you make a female reader insert with Anthony based on ready for it? Thanks!!

What to Expect | female reader, Bridgerton sibling banter, Daphne playing matchmaker, Anthony being sweet and a little slow burn. If you want, listen to ...Ready for it? by Taylor Swift

Word Count | 2.1k

Author's Note | This is my first Anthony Bridgerton x reader fanfic and it was so fun to write but please keep in mind this is my first one so it probably isn't the best! I am merely having fun writing Bridgerton stories but I will also accept any notes from fellow authors on what I can do to improve. Hope you enjoy this story! (not my gif!)

Knew he was a killer first time that I saw him/Wonder how many girls he had loved and left haunted

Everyone in the ton knew of Anthony Briderton’s reputation.

He was a rake with a capital R, as Lady Whistledown would say, and y/n knew that from the first time she laid eyes on the Viscount. It was during a promenade in Hyde Park, of the season where Daphne Bridgerton was the diamond.

He had been preoccupied with his sister and her suitors but as Daphne walked away with another suitor that morning, Anthnoy was left to himself for only a few seconds until a swarm of girls formed around him and he just smiled. He allowed those girls to speak to him as he nodded and smiled. 

y/n wondered how many girls he had left behind for this day, how many of them he forgot about after their evening together was done.

She wondered how many of them were merely ghosts to him and even if they were nothing to him at least they got to spend a night with the Viscount, a thought that made her feel a twinge of jealousy. 

That very afternoon, after making lovely conversation with the Diamond herself, Daphne introduced y/n to Anthony. The brief moments they spent talking was both wonderful and frustrating for y/n because as it seemed, that very night, Anythony was all she could think about.

In the middle of the night, in my dreams/ I know I'm gonna be with you

The wonderful thing about dreams is that you could imagine anything. Even the impossible seemed possible in dreams which is why y/n often like to dream about what a life with the Viscount Bridgerton would be like. 

It had been a matter of weeks since the first time she had seen him but since there had been balls and gatherings, more than she could count on both hands, where he had been in attendance.

Tonight was like any other. She danced, though not enough to fill her card, drank lemonade and picked at the food all while watching the ton do exactly the same.

Most eyes were on Daphne Bridgerton and every suitor she danced with while most minds were wondering what Lady Whistledown would write about this week, which is why y/n snuck outside to dream.

It was not her fault all her dreams included Anthony, it was her heart that took over her mind anytime she saw or thought of him. 

It was her heart who made her dream about things a lady should not think of; like what his lips would feel like on hers and the weight of his hands on her waist. The dreams quickly moved around her mind as if flipping the pages of a book but they were just dreams. 

Though she knew in every dream she would be with him, y/n had to shake off the wildest dreams of a man that would never be hers.

“What are you dreaming about?” The voice of her friend made her let out a gasp.

“Daphne, you frightened me. What are you doing out here?”

She smiled at her friend as she adjusted her gloves, “Oh, I could ask you the same thing.”

“I am simply enjoying this nice weather away from the festivities but you are the Diamond so why are you here?” As quickly as her thought about the eldest Bridgerton came, they were gone now as she spoke to her friend who just so happened to be the sister of the man she was dreaming about.

“My dear brother is trying his very best to find me a husband but failing because he is over in a corner drinking with an old friend from school, the Duke of Hastings.” 

The girl spoke with little annoyance in her voice though y/n could not tell if it was for her brother or this Duke she talked about. y/n merely laughed. 

“Well I see Anthony keeps to his reputation,”

 Daphne sighed. “Mama wants him to marry, of course, he knows as it is his duty but I fear he’s going to be a rake for as long as he can.” 

y/n felt a twinge in her heart at her words, something she was unfamiliar with until she met Anthony Bridgerton. 

Every lover known in comparison is a failure/I forget their names now, I'm so very tame now

y/n would be lying if she said she remembered every name and word that came out of the mouths of the men who called on her.

They could be talking about the most interesting thing in the world and y/n mind would still be on Anthony. But now, as the season was coming to a close and Daphne had a wedding to plan, that did not stop her from playing matchmaker for her eldest brother.

“See anyone worth dancing with dear brother?” It seemed as if she had appeared out of nowhere as she stood next to Anthony.

He smiled, “This season is not about me, Daphne.”

“No but I am engaged now so why should you focus on only me?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Why not Miss y/n? I’ve seen you take glances at her, she’s very lovely and I would say a dear friend of mine.” 

“Daphne, what are you after?” Annoyance laced around his words even though he also thought y/n lovely.

His sister scoffed. “I am merely trying to make this an enjoyable night for you brother seeing as Benedict is nowhere to be found and Colin is occupied with Miss Thompson.” 

Anthony took a second to look around the room, his eyes lingering on his brother speaking with Miss Thompson then finding y/n laughing along with Eloisie and Penelope as if they were in their own world. 

He took that moment to study the girl, sure he had seen her around and even thought for a moment of how her dress fit her form perfectly. How the color seemed as if it was made for her.

“Oh look! There is y/n, y/n!” Daphne suddenly called, shaking Anthony out of thought. The three girls look toward her, Eloise leaned into y/n saying something that made her shush the girl playfully before making her way over. 

“Mr. Bridgerton,” She bowed her head. “Daphne.”

“Y/n, tell me, is your dance card full yet?”

The girl looked puzzled, “No,”

“Perfect! My brother would love to dance with you,” She gently pushed Anthony forward despite his expression that mirrored y/n’s. 

“Oh,” y/n paused looking at Anthony for approval, he gave a short smile. “It would be an horor Mr. Bridgerton.”

Just as another song started playing, “May I have this dance Miss y/l” Anthony said.

The pair made their way to the dance floor. But as Anthony took her hand in his, all y/n could think about was what Lady Whistledown would write about them.

Perhaps something along the lines of “it seems as though our Diamond was seen playing matchmaker for her Rake of a brother, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton as she set up a dance for him and Miss y/n y/l at the Queen’s Ball this past week.” something so simple yet so effective the ton would be abuzz.

“Miss y/l?” She felt his breath hit the side of her face.

“Forgive me, Mr. Bridgerton. I am not sure where my mind went,”

He smiled, “Perhaps it is like mine and wondering what that Lady Whistledown will write about this, about us.”

No tone to his voice seemed upset by that fact, he was merely expressing what everyone in this room thought. y/n included.

“And would that be so bad?” He twirled her around, their eyes scanning the room before y/n was back in his arms. “All I mean is that Daphne has expressed your desire to find a wife soon and perhaps this gossip will get across to every mama waiting for a husband for their daughters.”

y/n looked up to meet Anthony’s eyes, he tilted his head at her words. He considered them carefully before saying, “Surely their Mothers would love that but what about you, Miss y/l? Would you not love the idea of me looking for a wife?”

“Are you being hourmous?” 

“I am weighing my options,” He looked down at her. “We shall see what happens next season, perhaps you will not think of me houmors then.”

She breathed in and as the song came to a close, she bowed and said “I look forward to our next encounter, Mr. Bridgerton. Thank you for the dance.”

Baby, let the games begin/ Let the games begin/ Let the games begin/ Are you ready for it?

Dearest Reader, 

It is time for yet another season. Perhaps you missed me or perhaps, you missed the gossip big enough to send the ton abuzz. Well, this Author is here to inform you that there is gossip to address.

It would appear that the Bridgertons have already had another success, again, and the season has just begun!

None other than the Viscount Bridgerton has appeared to be looking for his Viscountess, over the summer.Though it seems that over our break he might have found a true love match. As you might remember last season this Author wrote of the dance Mr. Bridgerton shared with Miss. y/n y/l after the Duchess played matchmaker for her brother and was a success. This Author has learned of the love match between Mr. Bridgerton and Miss. y/n y/l who are set to be married as soon as possible. 

Apologies to all the Mama’s hoping for their daughter to win over Mr. Bridgerton but it seems like his rake days are over and this Author wishes the happy couple a fairytale ending. 

Your Truly,

Lady Whistledown

“Well,” Eloise started. “Word is out that you two are in love, a true love match in Lady Whistledown’s eyes.”

The girl handed the paper to her eldest brother, taking it out of her hands as his eyes scanned the paper. A lopsided smirk forming on his face, “We are already the gossip of the season, my love. And it is love, Eloise”

His younger sister scoffed though only as a joke. It was no secret Eloise was happy her brother had found someone, even if she was upset with him at first because it was Eloise who had known y/n first.

He turned back looking at his betrothed who sat with Hyacinth at the piano, their soft melody coming to a stop. 

“She has already written about us? We have just gotten back!”

Lady Bridgerton walked quickly into the room breathing heavily as if she had just ran from her previous space, “The Queen knows! She knows of your engagement and has just sent word that she would like to meet with you two. Perhaps she will arrange your wedding, oh, isn't that lovely!”

Anthony looked at his mother, a warm feeling settled in his heart. He had never seen her so happy, not since his father died years ago, and Anthony wanted to relish in this moment. He watched his future wife make haste towards his mother as they both discussed the excitement of the Queen’s letter.

“A wedding by the Queen,” Eloise muttered. “How extravagant could that be? I can just imagine,”

“Peacocks running around the gardens,” Benedict said trying to hold in a laugh. This only made the rest of the family laugh along, y/n included. 

“A horrid amount of feathers!” Hyacinth exclaimed. 

“Maybe she would lend y/n one of her grand wigs,” Colin laughed harder at young Gregeory’s words. 

“Oh god no!” Anthony spoke, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. “I love you, y/n but if you were to wear one of those things at our wedding, I fear my love for you will not be enough.”

Y/n giggled more, taking a seat next to Anthony who pulled her in and placed a feathery kiss on her forehead. 

“I would not blame you, my Lord.” 

“Well,” Anthony said once the laughter died down. “Miss. y/l what do you say, let the Queen throw our wedding?”

“As long as I am married to you in the end Anthony, I don't care who throws our wedding. With peacocks and all.” 

[rosaline-black]

The world moves fast but fan fic writers move faster

[stevenrogered]

It is clear to any member of the Ton that the Viscount and Viscountess are rather smitten indeed.

[wonderlandprose]

all my Anthony fanfics are way more successful than my Benedict ones and Benedict is my favorite but I also love writing Anthony