#and i figured if there was anyone still active that follows me here

[yourmythicalbest]

best rhett and link vocals in no specific order, according to me, a classically trained opera singer who still cares too much about rhett and link

[jessica-problems]

Seeing @thydungeongal constantly wrestling with people interpreting her posts about D&D in ways that seem completely alien to me has convinced me that there are actually multiple completely distinct activities both being referred to as "playing D&D" Before we begin, I want to stress that I'm not saying one of these groups is Playing The Game Wrong or anything, but there seems to be a lot of confusion and conflict caused by people not being aware of the distinction. In fact, either one works just fine if everyone's on the same page. So far, I think I've identified at least two main groups. And nobody seems to realize the distinction between these groups even exists. The first group of people think of "Playing D&D" as, well, more or less like any other board game. Players read the whole rulebook all the way through, all the players follow the instructions, and the gameplay experience is determined by what the rules tell each player to do. This group thinks of the mechanics as, not exactly the *whole* game, but certainly the fundamental skeleton that everything else is built on top of. People in the second group think of "Playing D&D" as referring to, hanging out with their friends, collaboratively telling a story inspired by some of the elements in the rulebooks, maybe rolling some dice to see what happens when they can't decide. This group thinks of the mechanics of the game as, like... a spice to sprinkle on top of the story to mix things up. (if you belong to this second group, and think I'm explaining it poorly, please let me know, because I'm kind of piecing things together from other people saying things I don't understand and trying to reverse engineer how they seem to be approaching things.) I think this confusion is exacerbated by the fact that Wizards of the Coast markets D&D as if these are the same thing. They emphatically are not. the specific rules laid out of the D&D rulebooks actually direct players to tell a very specific kind of story. You can tell other stories if you ignore those rules (which still counts as "playing D&D" under the second definition, but doesn't under the first)And I think people in both groups are getting mad because they assume that everyone is also using their definition. For example, there's a common argument that I've seen play out many times that goes something like this:

A: "How do I mod D&D to do [insert theme here]?" B: "D&D is really not built for that, you should play [other TTRPG] that's designed for it instead" A: "But I don't want to learn a whole new game system!" B: "It will be easier to just learn a whole new system than mod D&D to do that." A: "whatever, I'll just mod D&D on my own" And I think where this argument comes from is the two groups described above completely talking past each other. No one understands what the other person is trying to say. From A's perspective, as a person in the second group, it sounds like A: "Anyone have some fun inspirations for telling stories about [insert theme here]?" B: "You can't sit around a table with your friends and tell a story about that theme! That's illegal." A: "But we want to tell a story about this theme!" B: "It's literally impossible to do that and you're a dumb idiot baby for even thinking about it." A: "whatever, jerk, I'll figure it out on my own."

--- Whereas, from B's perspective, the conversation sounds like A: "How do I change the rules of poker to be chess, and not be poker?" B: "uhhh, just play chess?" A: "But I already know how to player poker! I want to play poker, but also have it be chess!" B: "what the hell are you talking about? What does that even mean. They're completely different games." A: "I'm going to frankenstein these rules together into some kind of unplayably complex monster and you can't stop me!" ---

So both people end up coming away from the conversation thinking the other person is an idiot. And really, depending on how you concieve of what it means to "play D&D" what is being asked changes considerably. If you're only planning to look through the books for cool story inspiration, maybe borrow a cool little self contained sub-system here or there, then yeah, it's very possible to steal inspiration for your collaborative story from basically anywhere. Maybe some genres are kind of an awkward fit together, but you can make anything work with a little creativity.

If, however, you are thinking of the question in terms of frankensteining two entire board games together, then it becomes a massively difficult or even outright nonsensical idea. For example, for skill checks, the game Shadowrun has players roll a pool of several d6 at once, then count up how many rolled above a target value to see how well a character succeeded at a task. The whole game is full of specific rules about adding or removing dice from the pool, effects happening if you roll doubles, rerolling only some of the dice, and all sorts of other things that simply do not translate to rolling a single d20 for skill checks. On a basic level, the rules of the games work very differently. Trying to make them compatible would be much harder than just learning a new game from scratch. Now, neither of these approaches is exactly *wrong*, I guess, but personally, I find the rules of TTRPGs to be fascinating and worth taking the time to engage with all the weird little nuances and seeing what shakes out. Also, the first group, "TTRPG as fancy board game" is definitely the older and more widespread one. I kind of get the impression that the second group largely got into D&D through actual play podcasts, but I don't have any actual data to back that up. So, if you're in the second group, who thinks of D&D as basically a context for collaborative storytelling first and a game second, please let me know if I'm wildly misunderstanding how you approach D&D. Because I'm pretty sure it would save us a whole lot of stupid misunderstandings.

[lundenloves]

dad!simon masterlist | taglist | masterlist | request info

dad!simon who will near fall asleep on the sofa, sat upright with wide legs and his arms crossed, only opening one eye to pretend he’s listening while one of his daughters rambles about school drama.

dad!simon who scoffs when another monthly subscription or amazon payment goes through his card, brows knitted together after asking just why the house has to be subscribed to four separate streaming services.

dad!simon who never remembers his kids’ friends names. it could be his daughters best friend of seven years and he still wouldn’t remember.

dad!simon who visually could not care less about the gossip his daughter waffles about, mumbling “mhm” every so often to appear engaged though shrugging when called out on his evident boredom.

dad!simon who tsks at all the parcels that come through the door day-to-day. living with three daughters and a wife, it’s constant. he detests being the only one home and having to sign for something — will actively ignore a knock on the door when there’s other people in the house.

dad!simon who (when drunk) is the height of amusement for his eldest. many snapchats exist of him being handed the phone already recording and goofily grinning into it while looking up at her “what am i supposed to be looking at?”

dad!simon who sticks post-it notes in bold handwriting to the fridge whenever anyone has an appointment due the following day. “don’t forget.” complete with a fullstop and a harsh underline of the time in military digits.

dad!simon who replies sarcastically to almost every obvious question with his natural glare, something each of his kids had genetically taken: “don’t ask stupid questions and you won’t get stupid answers.” he loves them really.

dad!simon who silenced the family groupchat as soon as he had figured out how to, only replying every other day with a thumbs up reaction or more likely a thumbs down.

dad!simon who side eyes his kids. he doesn’t mean it, yet it happens. watching throw away tv? side eye. talking too loud on the phone? side eye. wearing a questionable outfit? side eye.

dad!simon who has a firm routine. he fucking detests being interrupted, and or spoken to from the hours of five till seven in the morning. he’ll get up, have food and go to the gym all in this time frame before anyone can dent his peace.

dad!simon who sighs avidly. a long and painful sigh after any merely simple question is asked or he’s to pick up one of his kids from a night out. “fucking well told ‘er not to expect me past twelve.” while accidentally slamming the door behind him, keys jingling around his finger.

dad!simon who struggles to show affection in any other way than a short pat of the shoulder or a one armed hug, pulling his kids into his chest for mere seconds before stepping back.

dad!simon who groans whenever anything gets moved in the house. his military mind in favour of keeping things in one position, untouched and moved for preferably ever unless he was told. though, having kids didn’t quite work like that.

dad!simon who: “do i ‘av to do fucking everything in this house? eh?”

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @maki-z @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffeee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @bubbyblob

˗ˏˋ university is still kicking my arse into next week. i joined the football team too, fuck knows why i’m making myself busier than i have to be. alas here we are, and i’m feeding the pigeons! aka sprinkling dad headcannons until i get traction again. pls love me, pls follow me, pls reblog, pls validate me.

the reason i tag this as ‘x reader’ as it’s ur fuckin family with him. no one bite my head off man i can’t be bothered tonight.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Very first - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

Request: First time with Lewis. I had 5 requests for that and I hope I did it justice (sorry for how long it took for a couple of those requests)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, all sorts.

Wrap it before you tap it.

wordcount: +5K

a/n: Haven't written in first person in so long, but all the drafts felt better like this. Also, it's huge, ops. Hope you guys like it.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

It was easy with him, too easy maybe, but that's what made it so damn nice.

“So,” I started, turning to him with a half-smile. “You want to come up?”

We’d spent the morning driving through the countryside, talking about everything and nothing—his races, my job, the ridiculousness of the price of avocados.

His eyes met mine, and I could see the question there, like he was trying to read me. “You sure?”

It was cute that he was being cautious, but come on, we both knew why I was asking. I nodded, keeping my voice light. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the countryside air or just the fact that we had spent the day away from the madness of London, but today felt different.

Calmer, somehow.

I led him up the stairs to my apartment, trying not to think too much about how it had been a while since I’d let anyone in here.

Literally and figuratively.

“Welcome to my humble abode” I said, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

He hesitated in the doorway, taking it all in.

My place was small, but it was mine—books, plants, a blanket that I was probably too attached to. It wasn’t flashy like the places he was used to, but I liked that about it.

“Nice place,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“It does the job” I replied with a shrug, kicking off my shoes. “Make yourself at home.”

He followed suit, slipping off his sneakers and setting them neatly by the door. “It suits you. Feels… grounded.”

I let out a soft laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

He leaned against the counter as we headed into the kitchen to grab some water.

But when handed him the glass, and our fingers brushed, it was fireworks all over again. God, how was I still reacting like a teenager with a crush?

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. “So, today was fun.”

“It was,” I agreed, taking a drink to give myself something to do with my hands. “It’s nice to get out of the city for a bit. The countryside’s got this whole other vibe.”

“Yup” he said, setting his glass down. “Nice to just… let it go.”

“Even from the racing?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Especially from the racing,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

There was a beat of silence, and I could feel the shift in the air between us, that tension that had been simmering since our last date starting to bubble up again.

The last time… well, things had gotten pretty heated until his phone rang, snapping us both out of it.

It was a close call, but I’d pulled back, sticking to my rule. No rushing into things. I’d done that before, and it never ended well.

But this time, he was making it very hard for me to stick by that rule.

I wanted him, and from the way he was looking at me, I’d take a pretty good guess he wanted me too.

I took a step closer, letting my hand find his. That simple touch was all it took for the tension to skyrocket, and before I knew it, we were closing the distance between us, lips crashing together in a kiss that was anything but tentative.

His hands were on my waist, pulling me closer as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

God, the man could kiss.

It was the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, who you were, and why you ever thought not doing this was a good idea. His lips were soft, but the way he kissed me was anything but.

There was urgency there, a hunger that only fueled into my own, and I could feel it in every brush of his lips, every tug of his fingers on my shirt.

I pressed myself against him, deepening the kiss as I let my hands roam up his back, memorizing the feel of him.

The muscles there were as solid as they looked, and I couldn’t help but think that this man was literally built for this kind of thing.

I mean, I had the image of what he looked like shirtless—hell, half the world did—but feeling it under my fingers was a whole different story.

He let out a low groan against my lips, and I was losing myself in the kiss, in him, and for a second, I almost didn’t care about anything else. Almost.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as we both caught our breath. “Y/n…”

The way he said my name, low and rough, made me want to pull him back in and never let go.

But there was something in his voice that made me pause.

“Yeah?” I whispered, my hands still resting on his shoulders, my eyes closed shut.

“I just… I don’t want to rush you” he said, his voice soft but serious. “I know last time… I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again.

Damn, he was really being careful, wasn’t he? But I appreciated it. More than I’d probably let on.

“Lewis” I started, taking a breath. “I want this. I want you. And I’m not saying that lightly.”

He studied me for a moment, like he was searching for any sign of hesitation. But there wasn’t any. Not this time.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.

I nodded, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw tentatively. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

That was all it took.

He kissed me again, and this time, there was no holding back.

And damn, if it wasn’t about time.

We barely made it through the hallway before his lips found mine again, pressing me against the wall with just the right amount of pressure.

God, he was good at this. I could feel the heat between us, the urgency in his touch making it clear where this was heading.

“Bedroom?” I mumbled against his lips, not really wanting to break the kiss but knowing we couldn’t just do this against the wall like teenagers.

Although, thinking it back the idea didn’t sound so bad.

As soon as we stepped inside his eyes landed on the teddy bear sitting in the middle of my bed. Of course.

“What’s this?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pointed to the bear.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to let him see how much I loved that he was trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s Mr. Bear, and he’s not going anywhere, so you’ll just have to deal.”

“Mr. Bear?” He picked it up, inspecting it like it was some kind of artifact. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make sure he approves.”

“He’s a tough cookie” I quipped, crossing my arms and giving him a look. “But you might want to focus on impressing me instead.”

“Oh, I plan on it,” he murmured, setting the bear down gently on the bedside table before turning back to me, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something much more intense.

He stepped closer, his hands finding the hem of my shirt. “Can I…?”

I sighed, half-annoyed, half-amused. “Lewis, if you ask me for permission one more time…”

He grinned, but there was something softer behind it. “Just making sure, love”

“I know,” I cut him off, my voice softer too. “But trust me, I want this. I want you.”

He held my gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, slipping his hands under my shirt and lifting it over my head.

His fingers grazed my skin, causing goosebumps down my skin as he took his time, clearly trying to be as gentle as possible, maybe even allowing for the time for me to back off.

It was sweet, really, but I was starting to get impatient.

“Lewis,” I said, a warning in my voice.

He chuckled, his hands moving to the waistband of my jeans. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop asking.”

“Good” I muttered, stepping out of my jeans as he slid them down my legs.

When I was finally standing in just my lingerie, his eyes roamed over me, and I could see the want—was it also awe? —in his eyes.

“I don’t think it’s fair,” I said, my voice teasing as I reached for the hem of his shirt.

“What’s not fair?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine with a tense stare.

“That you’re fully dressed” I replied, tugging at his shirt. “Especially when half the world uses your abs as gym inspiration.”

He laughed then; a deep, genuine sound that made my heart skip a beat. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

He raised his arms, letting me pull the shirt over his head. And yeah, the man was every bit as ripped as I had imagined.

I already knew what was under there, but damn, it was something else to see it up close like this.

And the tattoos. Those damn tattoos.

I ran my hands over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, and he watched me with that same intense gaze, like he was studying every move I made.

It was intoxicating, the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered at that second.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low as he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear.

“Much” I whispered, my fingers trailing down to his abs, feeling them tense under my touch.

His breath hitched slightly, and I couldn’t help but smile.

It was nice to know that I wasn’t the only one feeling a little overwhelmed by this. He might be Lewis Hamilton, but right now, he was just a guy standing in front of me, and I was the one making him nervous.

He softly guided my chin up and smiled, that stupidly soft and loving smile, before leaning into my lips, my hands exploring his back, his shoulders, anywhere I could reach.

He took his time though, his hands sliding up my sides to my back, and only then pausing at the clasp of my bra.

With his lips still hovering over mine he breathed into me. “Can I…?”

I rolled my eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Yes, Lewis. You can.”

And with that – and with his lips back on mine – he undid the clasp, letting the bra fall away as his hands moved over my now bare skin

Finally. And damn, if I wasn’t loving every second of it.

His lips started to trail from my collarbone down to the swell of my breasts, taking detours to worship every inch of skin he found on the way.

By the time his mouth reached my belly, I was practically trembling with anticipation.

When his fingers brushed the lace of my underwear, I couldn’t help the hiss that escaped my lips.

He paused, looking up at me with those deep, dark eyes that seemed to see right through me. Without a word, he moved back up to capture my mouth with his, as if soothing the impatience brewing inside me.

And I was impatient. The slow, deliberate pace was driving me insane, and he knew it.

I kissed him back hard, my hands roaming down his sides until they found the waistband of his boxers.

I was more than ready to speed things up, and as I slipped my hand under the fabric, I was pleasantly surprised to find him already half-hard.

“Guess the rumors weren’t exaggerating,” I murmured against his lips, my fingers brushing over his length.

He responded with a low growl, one hand angling my head as he kissed me again, harder this time, effectively shutting me up.

But he never stopped me from continuing my exploration. I traced the outline of his dick through the fabric, feeling the heat of him, the way he twitched under my touch.

Knowing I could get this kind of reaction from him was a high I probably wouldn’t get over for a minute.

When he finally broke the kiss, I met his gaze, silently asking for permission to go further. “It’s all yours, babe.” He chuckled, a sound that made me want to attack him and hide all at once.

I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down.

The moment his dick sprang free, I couldn’t help the way my breath caught in my throat.

He wasn’t impossibly long, but he was definitely above average, and the girth—God, the girth—was enough to make my pulse quicken.

He was watching me, of course, catching every flicker of reaction on my face.

When he noticed my wide-eyed surprise, he lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. His smile was warm, reassuring even “We’ll take it slow.”

I nodded, grateful for his patience even as it frustrated me. I returned his smile, my fingers wrapping around his length. His breath hitched the moment I touched him, and I couldn’t help but bat my eyes at him playfully.

“Gosh, you’re trouble” he muttered, his voice rough with desire.

I grinned, taking my time as I began to pump him, feeling the weight and heat of him in my hand.

When I reached the tip, I leaned down to press a kiss there, delighting in the way he shivered at the contact.

“Sensitive here, huh?” I teased, looking up at him.

Whatever retort he had in mind was lost when he dragged me back up to his lips, his hands firm on my hips as he effortlessly maneuvered me onto the bed, pressing my back against the headboard.

His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine. “I’m good, love. But we need to make sure you’re ready” he murmured, his statement a promise to my ears.

Before I could respond, his mouth was on me again, trailing kisses down my body with single-minded focus.

When he reached my inner thighs, he took his time kissing through the fabric of my lace underwear, and I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped my lips.

“Don’t tease,” I breathed, hating how desperate I sounded.

He giggled—that soft, infectious sound that I’d grown to love. “Just making sure” he whispered, his fingers hooking around the strings on my hips, slowly pulling the lace down and off.

As he finally took in the sight of my exposed cunt, his expression shifted into something almost reverent, like he was savoring the moment. He leaned down, leaving featherlight kisses on my outer lips, the gentle touch driving me wild.

“Lewis” I groaned, the frustration in my voice clear. “Please.”

He smiled against my skin, his breath hot against my thigh. “Patience, love. I’m just getting started.”

The first tentative lick sent a shockwave through my body, and my hands immediately grabbed at the sheets, fingers curling tight.

Every nerve on me was on fire, heightened by the slow, deliberate pace he was setting.

And just when I thought I might float away, he hooked an arm around my hips, anchoring me in place. His other hand found mine, fingers intertwining, as if he needed to connect with me anymore.

His eyes never left mine, and even if I wanted, I couldn’t really stop watching as his tongue lapped up my clit. A gasp escaping my lips as the pleasure spiked through me.

“Fuck,” I muttered, barely coherent.

He continued, his tongue moving with just the right pace, not rushing, just giving me enough to keep me teetering on the edge.

When he felt I was wet enough, he let go of my hand, moving it down to tease at my entrance with a single digit.

“I’ll need words from here, love” he murmured, his voice muffled. “Tell me what you like.”

“Don’t stop,” I managed to say, my voice shaky, almost pleading. “Just—don’t stop.”

With a grin, he slid a single finger inside me, his own hiss vibrating through the room as he felt my walls.

“You’re so tight,” he breathed, a note of awe in his voice. “This is gonna be heaven.”

He took his time, exploring with just that one finger, feeling around until he found the spot that had me squirming under him. When he hit it, I couldn’t help the moan that tore from my throat, my hips bucking involuntarily.

“Found it” he said with a satisfied smile, his eyes locking onto mine.

Then he added a second finger, the light stretch already making me gasp.

He started a scissoring motion, opening me up, getting me ready. All the while, his tongue didn’t let up, lapping at my clit in perfect rhythm, just enough to keep me on edge without pushing me over.

The wet sounds filled the room, mingling with my ragged breathing and his low murmurs of praise.

He was studying me, like he was learning exactly how to make me fall apart under him.

After what felt like an eternity of this sweet torment, he finally pulled back, sitting on his heels.

I watched as he switched to his middle and ring fingers, angling them just right before sliding back into me.

The feeling was delicious, and when he curled his fingers and found that spot again, I cried out, my hips lifting off the bed.

“Easy” he murmured, his free arm holding me in place as he started a relentless up-and-down motion.

His thumb brushed over my clit, making my breath caught in my throat and my head spin.

I was completely at his mercy, the pleasure building and building until I could hardly breathe.

The wet noises from where his fingers worked inside me were obscene, mingling with the desperate little sounds I couldn’t hold back.

He kept on the soft praises, but they were swallowed by my moans as I got closer and closer to the edge.

And then it hit.

My vision went white, and all I could do was hold onto his arm on his hips, feeling the waves of pleasure crash over me again and again. My whole body tensing before it felt like it had shattered into a million pieces.

He didn’t stop until he was sure I’d ridden out every last bit of it, his fingers slowing their movements but never letting up until I was trembling beneath him.

Only then did he pull his fingers out.

When I finally came back to myself, I found him watching me with a look that was equal parts smug and adoring.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips as if sealing the moment. “You okay?” he whispered, his voice gentle now.

I could only nod, too blissed out to form a coherent thought, let alone words.

And then he had the nerve to ask if I had one more in me, and again all I could do was nod.

But apparently, that wasn’t good enough for him. “I need words,” he insisted, and barely managed to get out “Fucking hell, you’re not leaving me without the rest.”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and I wanted to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t deny how endearing it was.

How many green flags could one guy have? Annoyingly checking every damn box.

When he went to his wallet, I knew what was coming next.

He handed me the condom packet, giving me that same patient, earnest look, like he was asking if I could handle one more thing.

I reached for him, giving him a few more pumps just to feel him twitch in my hand. Sliding the condom on, I could feel the heat building again, a rush of anticipation making my heart race.

He adjusted our position like he was handling something precious—placing a pillow just under my back, so deliberate and thoughtful.

But when he rested his dick on my inner thigh, all those coherent thoughts I had left my brain like it was suddenly a foreign language, and I remembered the girth.

Holy shit. How was I supposed to handle that?

The weight of him, the sheer size, and the fact that I was supposed to take it in?

Was this man sculpted by the gods or what?

And why did I have to get stuck on how considerate he was instead of focusing on the absolute insanity about to happen?

Before I could spiral any further, he came up to me, his lips brushing mine, dragging me back into the present. “We’ll take all the time you need, okay?” his voice like honey, smooth and sweet.

And there I was, rolling my eyes again, even as the warmth spread through me.

I wanted to snap back, something sassy on the tip of my tongue, but then his tip entered me, and all I could do was hiss at the sensation.

He kissed me through the first thrust, his dick practically ripping through my walls, and my hands automatically went to his back, nails digging into his skin, holding on for dear life.

I tried to breathe, tried to adjust to the stretch, but when he finally stopped, I realized he wasn’t even fully in yet.

My eyes shot down, and sure enough, he was still focused, his breathing controlled, and all I heard was a low murmur, “Geez, you really are tight.”

I felt his arms on either side of me, solid and reassuring, and I squeezed them gently. His eyes instantly found mine, filled with concern, and I had to smile softly. “Move, Lewis. Just please, move.”

And then he did, thrusting into me with an agonizing slowness, deeper with each motion, until finally, I felt his balls press against my ass, and he sighed like he’d found what he was looking for.

My mind, however, was a different story.

Holy shit, how was I still breathing? I was split open in the best way possible, and all I could think was how the hell was this man real.

I was sure each thrust was going to create its own memory, and I was teetering between wanting to scream at the top of my lungs and begging him to go even harder.

But there was something about how he moved—deliberate, careful, like he was savoring every second, every reaction I gave him.

The way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world, was enough to push me over the edge again. And I could tell he was holding back, trying to keep control, trying to make sure I was okay, even as his own need was practically vibrating through his body.

God, I’m so screwed, and not just in the physical sense.

I was falling, fast and hard, and there was no stopping it now.

Not when he felt this good, not when he was this good to me.

Every thrust made me crave more, made me cling to him tighter, made me want to lose myself in him completely.

Lewis’s focus was entirely on me, and it was like he was memorizing every gasp, every twitch, every reaction.

It was overwhelming, in the best possible way, but still I needed more.

I wanted to be the one in control, to feel him from a different angle, to see what this man—this ridiculous, considerate, and sexy man—would do when I took the reins.

Leaning into his ear, I whispered, “I want to ride you.”

The words were barely out of my mouth before I felt him tense beneath me, half-worried, half-hopeful.

It was adorable, really, how he tried to mask his excitement with concern.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, and there was that hint of amusement in his voice, but I could also hear the edge of desperation.

Did he really want this as much as I did, maybe even more?

“We’ll take it slow, right?” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest.

I sat up, pulling away just enough to guide him to sit on the bed, and as I moved into his lap, I could feel his heart on his chest.

Slowly, I lowered myself onto his dick, feeling every inch stretch me again, filling me completely.

My lips parted in an involuntary gasp, my eyes squeezing shut as I adjusted to the sensation.

His hands found my waist, gripping tightly as if grounding himself, and when I finally opened my eyes, he was staring at me with that same soft smile that always managed to break through my sarcasm.

I couldn’t help but smile back, pulling him into a kiss, the kind that had me wrapping me around him.

I started moving, rocking back and forth, feeling the friction build and spiral.

The kiss broke when he moaned against my lips, a sound that only spurred me on, making my moves harder, seeking more.

His hands guided me, helping me rise and fall on him, and every time his tip brushed against my cervix, I saw starts. It was so intense it almost bordered on pain.

I let out a cry, my body trembling at the sensation, and he immediately stilled, concern flashing in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and it was almost ridiculous how serious he was, but also incredibly sweet.

I looked down at him, half breathless, half in awe of how he managed to be so considerate, even in the heat of the moment. “Going to be even better when you drag that other orgasm out of me, like you promised.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He started to thrust up and I matched him, riding him faster, until I could feel that familiar tension coil tightly in my belly.

I wasn’t going to last much longer, and by the way he was groaning beneath me, neither was he.

A few more thrusts, and I stilled, holding him down by his abdomen, feeling the shift in him as he realized what was happening.

He searched my face, and then his expression shifted as he felt my walls clenching around him, my legs shaking as I came undone.

I couldn’t keep myself upright, collapsing into his chest as wave after wave washed over me.

Lewis took that moment to start thrusting again, riding out my orgasm, and I was vaguely aware of the way he was holding me, like he didn’t want to let go.

I could feel his rhythm faltering, and it wasn’t long before he let out a deep grunt, his fingers digging into my waist as he held me in place and his moans were all I heard.

We were both breathing hard, tangled together, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

It was just us, in this moment, and I couldn’t help the ridiculous surge of affection for him.

Who knew I’d end up here, wrapped up in the arms of a guy like Lewis? But here I was, completely wrecked and somehow, already craving more.

As I eased off his lap, I heard a low moan escape his lips, and I giggled as I looked down at him, sprawled out on the bed with a stupid grin plastered across his face.

"Enjoying yourself, are we?" I teased, reaching down to carefully remove the condom, trying to catch the mess inside. He didn't even respond, just lay there looking like the cat who got the cream.

I slipped off to the bathroom, tossing the condom in the toilet before taking a moment to pee—because there was no way I was dealing with a UTI when I had Lewis to myself like that.

And just that thought was ridiculous on its own.

When I came back into the bedroom, Lewis immediately pulled me into his arms, almost like he was afraid I’d vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

He was sweet in the aftercare, his voice soft as he asked, “How was it? How do you feel?”

I could hear the concern laced in his tone, but that grin was still there, tugging at the corners of his lips.

It was impossible not to smile back, even as I decided to mess with him a little. My fingers wandered lower, tracing the lines of his lower waist, and I looked up at him with a teasing glint in my eyes.

“You know” I started, trying to keep a straight face, “I always thought you were a shower… I’m glad to see you’re also a grower.”

Lewis giggled, his chest vibrating under my chin as he shook his head in mock disbelief. “Really?”

“Yeah” I grinned, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I mean, it’s only fair to acknowledge all of your… talents.”

He shook his head again, but I could see the satisfaction in his eyes. “And here I thought I had you speechless.”

“You did” I assured him, my fingers dancing across his skin again. “But I can’t stay quiet for long.”

He chuckled, pulling me closer, his hand running up and down my back in soothing strokes. “I’m glad. It’s part of your charm.”

I rolled my eyes at that, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through me at his words. “Yeah, well, you’re not so bad yourself.”

His grin softened into something more tender as he looked down at me. “You make it easy to be sweet.”

I pretended to look annoyed, but the smile on my face gave me away. “Okay, that was disgustingly cute. But fine, I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, you’ll allow it?” he teased, his hand coming up to gently brush my cheek “What if I want to be disgustingly cute more often?”

I hummed thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “I guess I could get used to it… as long as you keep up the other stuff too.”

He giggled again, that carefree sound that I was quickly falling for. “Deal. But just so you know, I’m planning on sticking for a bit.”

I smirked, resting my hand on his chest. “I think I can manage that.”

______________________________________________________________

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[fluentmoviequoter]

The Better, Hidden Half

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here >

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader (takes place in The Rookie 1x20-2x1)

Summary: Tim doesn't tell just anyone that he's married. When he's quarantined and his life is threatened by a fatal virus, he asks Lucy to call you, and ends up showing everyone what you mean to him.

Warnings: angst, fluffy comfort at the end, spoilers for episodes 1x20 and 2x1 (this is basically a rewrite, but still includes a brief reference to the suicide line from Tim). reader stress cleans?

A/N: The anxiety/stress cleaning bit is completely self-indulgent; sorry. I tried to manipulate Tim's conversations with Lucy to make them sound more platonic (I don't know if it worked though). I absolutely love this idea and had a ton of fun writing it!🤍

Word Count: 3.9k+ words

Tim Bradford is a man of few words, and he keeps his life separated into two distinct areas: work life and personal life. He tried to bring the two together once, but hated the constant worry that someone from his work life would threaten to hurt people in his personal life or worse, act on their threats. For that reason, for his family’s safety, Tim keeps his life separated, and only a choice few have been chosen to be trusted with a glimpse of both sides of Tim. Angela, Wade, and on occasion, Bishop, see a side of Tim that doesn't exist when he's at work.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How is she?” Angela asks, sitting beside Tim for roll call.

Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I trained her, I’m sure she did fine. Better than your golden boy boot, anyway.”

Angela smiles and leans in to whisper, “Didn’t mean Chen.” She turns her attention to Jackson, calling, “80 might be the passing grade, boot, but if you don’t get at least a 90, you should turn in your badge on general principle.”

Tim leans forward to add, “Officer Chen, I will take it as a personal insult if you get anything less than a 93.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy answers. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with all your new free time? Might I suggest a book club?”

Angela elbows Tim under the table, and he glances at her quickly, giving her a displeased stare which only makes her work harder to hide her smile.

“What are you talking about?” Tim asks.

“You know, after I pass, there won’t be any more daily evaluations to write.”

“Whether I evaluate you daily or weekly, I will continue to judge you every minute. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

As Grey enters, Lucy turns to Nolan, who whispers, “I can’t believe he’s single.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucy replies, rolling her eyes. “Evaluating a wife daily would cut into his ‘man of honor’ time.”

They silence as Wade directs the TOs to only take easy calls while the rookies finish their last shift before their exams. When Tim assures that he follows direct orders, he keeps his eyes straight ahead, knowing that Angela and Bishop are ready to tease him the moment he looks in their direction.

✯✯✯✯✯

7-Adam-19, silent hold-up alarm activated at Madame Megan’s psychic shop. 2417 Vine. Code 3.

Tim and Lucy enter the back room, taking control of the situation quickly, and he dials in once again to being a cop. Not a family man or anything of the sort. Just a police officer.

As Lucy walks out, and the (fake) psychic hits on Tim, he can only think of one thing. Excusing himself from the room, with a lack of grace that is unlike him, Tim lets his mind wander for just a moment. He thinks of a promise he made, a vow he took, and then his focus is back on his new case, a missing person discovered by a phony Hollywood psychic.

✯✯✯✯✯

Miles away, you are trying to focus on work, though you find it much harder than Tim to simply push your family and your personal life from your mind at a moment’s notice. Fiddling with your necklace, you refrain from grabbing your phone, wanting to text the only person on your mind. Oblivious to the dangers Tim is learning about from the CDC and Homeland Security, you sigh and clench your hands into fists before attempting to focus again.

Before you make any progress on starting the project awaiting your attention, your phone rings. Tim’s name appears on your screen, and you rush to answer, dread filling you. He never calls while he’s working, and you immediately expect the worst. Surely if it were something terrible, Angela or Wade would call you. If Tim is calling, that means he is okay, he is alive.

“Hello?” you ask, releasing a sigh when Tim says your name.

“Are you alone?” he adds, his voice strained.

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“I need you to stay where you are or go straight home. There’s a terror cell with a biological weapon; we’re doing everything we can to find them, but I need to know you’re safe.”

“Tim- yeah, of course. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I- I really can’t say anything else. Not about what we’re doing. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”

“I will. Be careful, Tim. I love you.”

“I love you.”

Your phone beeps as the call ends, and your hand finds your necklace again, one finger slipping into Tim’s wedding ring. He leaves it with you each morning, taking it back with gentle touches and loving kisses when he returns each night. Today, all you can do is trust that he is good at his job and that he will protect you and the rest of LA, and then come back to you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim and Lucy approach one of the possible addresses in the search for newly discovered members of the terror cell.

“Man. And here I thought that test was gonna be the hardest part of my day,” Lucy muses.

“Best case scenario, it’s tomorrow’s problem,” Tim points out. His thoughts, however, are stuck on you, especially when Lucy asks what the worst case is.

“Took you long enough,” the man, Peter Langston, says as he opens the door. “Bag’s in here.”

“Sir, we’re here about the bus you took from Phoenix,” Tim explains.

“No kidding. I called you about the bag.”

“And what bag is that?”

“I thought it was mine on the bus. I picked it up by accident.” Tim follows Langston into a bedroom as he continues, “Noticed as soon as I got home. Called right away. Still took you guys like six hours to get here.”

“Uh, sir, we’re not here about a bag.”

“So, you don’t have mine? My computer’s in there… I went through this one for an address, and all I found was some weird science equipment.”

Tim glances back at Lucy, who calls for the task force at the mention of ‘weird science equipment.’

“Sir, did you touch anything in there?” Tim asks, pulling gloves on.

“Yeah, I cut my finger going through it looking for an address. Some kind of broken vial.”

Tim’s eyes widen and his breath catches as the man raises his bloodied finger, adding that it hasn’t stopped bleeding since it was cut. Hemorrhaging, Tim knows.

“Everything okay in there?” Lucy calls.

“Yeah. Just stay out there,” Tim demands.

The man coughs, and Tim flinches as blood lands on his neck and up onto his jaw. Looking down at the blood on the man’s shirt, Tim’s mind forgets the divide between work and personal life. He takes the initiative to lock Lucy out, slamming the door on her to keep her safe, but his true concern is you. If something happens to him, who will look out for you? Who will be your shoulder to cry on? In a moment, as the reality of the situation dawns on him, Tim thinks like a husband, and he begins to regret keeping you, his wife, hidden for so long.

“Tim, no!” Lucy yells, but she steps forward too late.

Tim is on the other side of the door, a new division created as others are dissolved.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim finds baby wipes on a nearby changing table, wiping the blood from his skin as he lies to Langston, telling him it will be okay and distracting him with meaningless treatments to combat the “bad case of the flu the police were warned about this morning at roll call.”

Langston disappears into the bathroom in search of cold medicine, and Tim walks to the door to ask Lucy, “Everything all right out there, Chen?”

“Uh, yeah. The CDC’s on their way,” she responds. “Hey, you need to come out of there.”

“That’s not gonna happen. Got to keep this contained.”

“Tim-“

“It’s gonna be alright, boot.”

Tim knows that Lucy is concerned about him, and he is similarly concerned for her. He feels responsible for her safety as his rookie, but his thoughts toward her are completely and totally different from his fears concerning you, driven by love rather than mutual respect and duty.

“You keep your head in the game, okay?” Tim encourages Lucy. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

As Tim looks at the blood-covered wipe in his hand, he thinks of you, and how you’ll respond to the potential notification that he didn’t make it, taken from you by the very thing he tried to protect you from. He turns his attention back to the sick man feet away from him before his thoughts spiral. Tim needs you, so he needs to focus and survive.

✯✯✯✯✯

While the CDC is arriving at the house and quarantining Tim and the infected man, you are pacing in your shared bedroom. Memories of you and Tim exist in every inch of this house, and every moment that goes by without an update increases your worry. Walking into the closet, you find one of Tim’s recently worn shirts, changing into it before picking up the remote to distract yourself. With Tim’s pillow clutched to your chest, you try to laugh at the ridiculous sitcom on the screen, but it doesn’t work as well as you hoped.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Officer Chen, you want to tell me what happened?” Dr. Morgan asks, dressed in full hazmat gear as she enters.

“Yeah, uh, the bus passenger mistakenly grabbed the wrong bag, and the virus must have been in it because he coughed up blood on Tim,” Lucy explains.

“Did you get any blood on you?”

“Uh, no. I was out here. Tim immediately closed the door.”

“Smart man.”

Tim hears Dr. Morgan’s comment and clenches his jaw, knowing you would disagree entirely. At least in this case.

“Hey, doc,” Tim greets, standing against the door.

“How you doing?” Dr. Morgan inquires.

“Fine. But Mr. Langston’s struggling a little.”

“Can you describe his condition?”

“Yeah. He, uh, started coughing blood about 20 minutes ago. Now he’s got a pretty wicked nosebleed.”

“Why aren’t they coming in? Where’s my ambulance?” Langston asks.

“It’ll be here any minute. Just… stay put. Save your energy.”

Lucy interrupts to ask, “Where’s the vaccine?”

“Still in the air,” Dr. Morgan says. “Should land in the next hour or so.”

Scoffing, Lucy argues, “You can’t make Tim wait in there. He might not be infected.”

“Sorry. Quarantine rules exist for a reason.” Dr. Morgan turns to the door and asks Tim, “Officer Bradford, do you mind if I put you to work while you wait?”

“You want to know what’s in the bag?” Tim knows digging through the contents is dangerous, but waiting without doing anything won’t increase his chances of getting home to you.

“Yes, I do.”

“Copy that. Chen, I’m gonna turn on my body cam. You can monitor it from out there.”

“Okay. Please be careful,” she responds.

Tim hears your voice in his mind, telling him the same thing. He trusts himself to listen to you more than his rookie.

“All right. Here we go,” Tim says, using his baton to open the bag.

“Wait. Wait. What is that bottle?” Dr. Morgan wonders.

“Looks like the delivery device,” Tim guesses, raising it carefully from the bag. “It’s a misting fan.”

Dr. Morgan calls Homeland Security with the new information on how the terrorists are planning to spread the virus. As Tim continues searching the bag, failing to find identification or target information, Lucy sees Langston raising a chair in the mirror and yells for Tim just before he is knocked unconscious.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your house is as clean as it has ever been. Using your nervous energy and anxiety-fueled need to move, you clean each room in an attempt to keep your mind from worrying about Tim. You could call someone and ask for an update, but they probably can’t tell you anything. The only comfort you have is knowing that Angela and Wade would call you if you needed to know something. The silence is deafening, but it’s also a good sign.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim? Tim!” Lucy continues, growing concerned at the lack of reply.

Tim opens his eyes, moving backward quickly when he sees a puddle of blood running toward his face. He sees Langston standing across the room, mumbling about needing to get out as he tries to break the window. Tim tases him as he stands, and Lucy’s concerned yells continue. Covering his face with his shirt, Tim handcuffs Langston to the bed, shuffling backward as Lucy demands his answer.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” he replies, breathing heavily. “Well, that was fun.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tim chuckles. “Kind of depends on your definition of the word.”

While Lucy tells Dr. Morgan to get the vaccine, and the LAPD sends patrol units out to find the other terrorist, Tim keeps his eyes on Langston, but his mind is on you. He should ask someone to tell you and find a way to let you know what is going on, but part of him knows that you are separate from this for a reason. You’re likely worried enough without knowing that Tim’s chance of being infected rises with each moment.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim watches Langston die, unable to do anything as he begs for help and convulses. Imagining himself in Langston’s place, Tim decides that he has to do something. He can’t go out like that, he won’t, but more importantly, he can’t leave you wondering. If Tim dies today, he is not dying without talking to you one last time, showing everyone around him that you are the best part of him.

He leans against the door in silence until Lucy says, “Hey, I, uh- I just checked with Dr. Morgan. The vaccine’s minutes away.”

“You know, you’re good at a lot of things – lying isn’t one of them,” Tim replies.

“You think I’m good at things? Can I get that in writing? … How are you doing? Are there any symptoms yet?"

"I’m sweating like a pig. But it’s probably because it’s 100 degrees in this room.”

Tim sighs just before Lucy assures, “It’s gonna be okay. I really believe that.”

“I’m sure you do. But if it isn’t-“

“Don’t think like that. It’s-“

“If it isn’t,” Tim repeats. “I’m not going out the way my man Pete here just did.”

“What are you saying?”

Tim sighs again, realizing what he said. He would never leave you like that; he’s a fighter. “I need you to do something for me, Chen.”

“Anything.”

“My- my wife is probably worrying herself sick right now. If this doesn’t end like you think it will, can you tell her that I fought to get home to her? Just- just keep an eye on her if anything happens. Wade and Angela, too.”

“Wife?” Lucy asks softly.

Tim smiles, glad to talk about something other than himself or the virus released in the room with him.

“Yeah. We eloped a while back; Grey, Lopez, and Bishop were there.”

“You’ve never mentioned her.”

“I keep her separated. She - everything in my personal life – would be at risk if there wasn’t a divide there.”

“I get that. What’s she like?”

Tim says your name, closing his eyes and picturing you as he tells Lucy how beautiful, kind, and loving you are. “She’s my better half. I don’t- can’t imagine not going home to her.”

“I promise, Tim. I’m confident you will go home to her, but… I promise.”

“Thank you,” Tim says quietly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Please tell me that’s the vaccine,” Lucy says when Dr. Morgan returns.

“It is,” she answers quickly, walking toward the door quarantining Tim. “Stand back, Officer Chen. You’re not wearing protective gear.”

“Yeah.” Lucy steps back, hoping Tim is okay, and that he gets to go home to you.

“Officer Bradford, it’s time to let me in,” Dr. Morgan calls.

Tim opens the door, greeting Dr. Morgan before answering that he’s not feeling too bad. She tells him that she’s going to administer the vaccine. “It’s experimental, right?” Tim asks.

“That’s correct. So, we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing. Maybe you grow horns. But for now, I’d say you might’ve dodged a bullet.”

Tim looks at Lucy to ask, “Can you get Lopez? Ask her to call for me?”

Lucy nods, pulling her radio out to contact Angela. She knows that Tim will need you, no matter how the vaccine works… or doesn’t.

“Lopez,” she says, sighing before saying, “Tim wants to know if you can call his wife.”

“Of course,” Angela answers. “She’ll be at his side, even if I have to go get her in the shop.”

Lucy smiles at Tim, and he sighs as Dr. Morgan administers the vaccine. There’s more hope surrounding Tim now, but the fight may not be over yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you see Angela’s name on your phone, you consider not answering. Biting your bottom lip to hold your tears in, you answer.

“He’s okay,” Angela begins.

You sigh in relief, a few tears breaking free anyway. “Thank you, Angela.”

“The vaccine is experimental, so they’re taking him to the CDC for observation; you can visit with the proper protective gear. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“See you in a few. And, just so you know, he didn’t call me.”

“Who did?”

“His rookie.”

Angela reminds you that she’s happy to pick you up if you want before ending the call. Tim mentioned me, you think. Then you wonder whether or not that’s a good thing.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, I heard you guys saved the day,” Lucy says, exiting Langston’s house to meet Nolan, Jackson, Lopez, and Bishop.

“It was a group effort,” Jackson corrects.

“Glad you’re okay,” Nolan expresses.

“Me too,” Lucy sighs. “I- I mean that you’re okay, too.”

“How’s Tim?” Angela asks.

“I think he’s gonna be all right. Now, 24-hour observation at the CDC.”

“I’ll bet my pension he just told doctors Tim Bradford does not ride in a wheelchair,” Angela jokes as Tim walks out.

“Only way I’m leavin’ out of here is on my own two feet,” Bishop imitates.

“Don’t you guys have paperwork to finish?” Tim retorts.

Tim looks at Lucy, nodding his thanks before continuing to walk toward the car waiting to transport him to the CDC. He stops suddenly in the yard, growing dizzy before he falls backward onto the grass.

“Officer Bradford!” Dr. Morgan yells.

Lucy, Angela, Bishop, and Jackson run toward him before the CDC holds them back. Someone calls for an ambulance, and Angela backs away to make a call.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What happened?” you ask, answering Angela’s second call.

“Meet us at Shaw instead of the CDC,” she says.

You can hear yelling in the background, and repeat, “What happened?”

Angela says your name, unyielding as she says, “Shaw. I’ll meet you there.”

You inhale deeply, turning toward Shaw. Knowing that you have no chance of beating an ambulance escorted by police cars, you grip the steering wheel, hoping that Los Angeles traffic has grace on you, and you make it to Tim’s side quickly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim better make it,” Jackson says.

“He will.” Angela knows that he’s a fighter, but she also knows that losing him will destroy you. He has to make it for himself, for the police department, and most importantly, for you.

In the ambulance ahead, Tim goes into anaphylactic shock. Lucy helps the paramedics and glances at Tim’s left hand. The line where his wedding ring sits is barely visible, but she whispers for him to keep his promise, to keep fighting.

Once the ambulance and the police cars enter into the hospital parking lot, Nolan notices a woman with a gun, alerting the officers surrounding the ambulance before the firefight starts.

Lucy covers Tim in the ambulance as the paramedics assist him as well as the injured medics. Nolan shoots the woman in the shoulder, but his gun jams as he moves closer to her.

Tim opens the ambulance door, downing the armed woman on a surge of adrenaline. Stepping onto the ambulance driveway, he asks Nolan if he’s okay.

“I should have reloaded on the move,” Nolan mutters. “You?”

“I should’ve taken yesterday off,” Tim answers.

“Alright, Officer Bradford, let’s go,” a nurse says, pushing a wheelchair to his side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Angela!” you call, jogging to her side.

“Don’t freak out,” she begins, but your eyes widen when you see the bullet holes covering, well, everything.

“Where is he?”

She nods, leading you around her shop. Tim is standing beside Nolan, arguing with a nurse.

“I can walk. Clearly, I’m fine,” Tim argues.

You don’t think about how many people are watching as you walk to Tim’s side. He turns toward you, his eyes softening when he sees you.

“Get in the wheelchair,” you demand.

Tim sighs but does as you say. Nolan and Jackson look at each other in shock, and Lucy smiles as she says, “His wife.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into Tim’s hospital room, he looks like he’s been waiting for you.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“For what? Not listening to the nurse?”

Tim chuckles as he raises his left hand, pulling you to his side. “No. I’m sorry for not showing you off more, for never telling people about us. I worried you; I know I did, and you don’t deserve any of it.”

You lean forward, running your fingers across Tim’s jawline as you smile. “You don’t have to show me off. I know why you do it, Tim. Being a secret, being separated and safe, I get it. What I don’t like is not knowing if you’re okay.”

“I don’t want the separation anymore. You are my entire life, and- I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I’m not risking this again. The idea of not making it home, leaving you alone, with no one knowing you or how much you mean to me… that was terrible, and I’m sorry.”

Pursing your lips, you lean toward Tim and look into his eyes before scanning your eyes over his face.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Trying to figure out where the Tim I know went.”

Tim smiles, moving over in the bed and tugging you against his side. He taps your necklace before raising your hair away from your neck. You unclasp your necklace, sliding Tim’s wedding ring off the chain. Tim lays his left hand in your lap, and you put his ring on slowly before kissing his hand.

“I love you,” Tim says.

“I love you. And I accept your apology, even though I didn’t need it.”

“Ready to meet the rest of my-“

“Friends?” you fill in, smiling.

“Colleagues,” Tim finishes, shaking his head as his arm tightens around your waist.

“Thank you for making sure Angela called me.”

“How clean is the house?”

You laugh, pressing your face against Tim’s shoulder. He knows you well, and though you didn't know what was truly at stake over the last few hours, you did miss him.

“Hey, Mrs. Bradford,” Wade greets, smiling as he leads a small crowd of officers into the room. “I have some rookies here who don’t believe someone would marry Tim.”

“I changed my mind,” Tim replies. “Get out.”

You elbow him gently, smiling as you stand. “It's much easier when he doesn’t tell people. No association to him.”

Tim laughs behind you, and after shaking hands and introducing yourself, you return to Tim’s side: where nothing can hurt you, everything is safe, and you’re the most important thing in the world.

[kaisacobra]

Let You Go - Tara Carpenter

Summary: It's been a while since Tara has seen you. She misses you, but maybe she's broken your relationship to a point beyond repair.

Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of death, angst

Word Count: 7.9k

a/n: thank you so much for the ride guys! Here we have part 3 of second best, which (kind of) ends this trilogy. Of course, I'm still writing the alternate ending so stay tuned if you're interested!

third part of Second Best

It was two in the afternoon when Tara began rummaging through that box she kept at the back of her closet, sorting the contents into "burn" and "don't burn," all in line with what her therapist had advised. She needed to overcome the past, even if in small steps, and what better way to start than by burning traces of when everything started going wrong?

She looked into the box, examining the contents that would survive the purge. To no one's surprise, most of the photos contained you.

Tara reached for a specific photo among the others. A polaroid depicting a hug between the two of you, both with radiant smiles and faces so close that your cheeks touched. Mindy had taken this photo just before you both visited an amusement park that had been in town for a while. Tara's heart throbbed painfully. She missed you. A lot.

The girl sat on the bed with slumped shoulders, clutching the polaroid as if it were a precious possession. She couldn't take her eyes off the image of the two of you, with a happiness and innocence that would soon be ruined by her own actions. With a tired sigh, Tara closed her eyes, remembering her therapist's words.

The initial sessions were slow and unproductive, mainly because Tara kept her guard up and refused to talk much about her life to a stranger. Over time, the man became a pleasant presence, and Tara began to see him as some sort of a grandfather figure trying to advise his granddaughter. That's when she started sharing her problems and actively sought solutions.

"Do you think she'll forgive me?" she remembered asking, looking at her hands with shame. The bright white light in the room made the sweat on her palms stand out on her tan skin.

"Tara..." The man sighed, taking off his glasses as if he was preparing for a battle. "Don't you think you should worry about forgiving yourself first?"

The girl frowned and looked at him as if he were crazy. If anything, she was guilty of not only ruining her own life but also becoming a problem in everyone else's. She had no right to see herself as a victim. "What do you mean?"

"From what you've told me, I've realized you harbor a lot of resentment towards yourself on the inside." He pointed to Tara's chest, and she noticed no hint of judgment in his expression. Still, she felt strangely exposed. "Have you ever really reflected on this internal conflict you feel? About feeling guilty for things beyond your control?"

Tara scoffed and leaned back until her shoulders rested against the chair again, crossing her arms and staring at the walls like a stubborn child avoiding conflicts. "Beyond my control? I was awful to the best person in my life! I let a murderer into our life for-"

"See? You're doing it again." He smiled with a patience that bordered on irritating for the girl, crossing his hands on the glass table that separated them. "I'm not saying you're not at fault for being rude to your friend, but I'd like to focus on your past. That girl's attacks, parental abandonment... You're not to blame for that, Tara, but it doesn't stop you from carrying the pain anyways. Don't you think it affects you?"

She remained silent, but now her head was bowed in embarrassment. Her arms, once crossed, now enveloped her elbows in a half-hug, as if that would protect her from something. Without more exchanging words, the therapist followed the cue and continued speaking in a gentle tone, as if trying to educate a wounded animal.

"Tara, have you ever talked about your concerns with anyone, or have you just kept all these grievances inside until they exploded? Have you ever had any healthy coping mechanism?"

I don't deserve one. That's what she wanted to say, but didn't, because she knew it would make the situation even worse.

"Do you think I don't recognize the signs? Troubled young adult refuses help out of fear of abandonment and ends up driving everyone away, taking the opportunity to take out your emotional wounds on others? You won't be the first or the last person I've seen with this pattern." He spoke as if he could read her thoughts, leaving the girl a little scared.

Sitting up straighter in the chair, Tara turned her gaze back to the therapist, momentarily becoming interested in the conversation again. "Okay, what do I do to end this? What do I do to not be like this anymore?"

Broken, she wanted to say.

The man smiled gently and pulled open a drawer in the wooden cabinet to his left. Tara watched impatiently as he took out a black notebook and placed it on the table between them, looking between her and the object with a certain expectation. "I thought you could start documenting your feelings on paper, instead of keeping them locked within you. I think it can help you in the long run."

"Do you think writing in a journal will make me less of an ass and make y/n forgive me?" Tara replied with a sarcastic tone.

"I think it can influence a change in behavior, yes." The therapist reaffirmed, deliberately ignoring the girl's foul language. "And this exercise is not about y/n; it's about you. How do you expect her to forgive you if you can't do it for yourself?"

As stubborn as Tara was, the words had truly left an impression on her. That's why, on top of her messy desk, was the damn black notebook. The calluses on her hand throbbed with the memory of the force with which she wrote each new entry, trying to release her negative feelings onto paper.

She knew that your name was probably the most repeated word on all the pages, like a sacred mantra that she had to honor. Tara couldn't escape the fact that many of her emotions were so directly intertwined with the idea of you, and honestly, she accepted having to carry that burden as her own Sisyphean stone. She deserved it, after all.

Looking again at the polaroid, she sighed and slowly ran her thumb over the smiling image of your face, almost wishing she could offer you the same affection in person.

She was going to change. She had to change. For you.

_

"That was pretty good!"

The floodlights on the university’s sports field lit up as it began to get dark, allowing the young athletes to continue their training even at night. There weren't many people around, but you could see that the track team seemed to be gearing up to practice for the 100 meters a little to your left.

"Kate, I hit the white part." You grumbled in response to your friend's encouraging words. Kate Bishop had convinced you to attend one of her archery practices to "see her talents firsthand," and at some point, she thought just watching wouldn't be enough, and that you had to experience the sport for yourself.

That's why you were now on the archery training field with her, holding a semi-professional bow that was much heavier than you expected, proving over and over again that you were definitely not a natural at this.

It didn't seem to discourage Kate, however, as the girl still smiled with enthusiasm while looking at your target with a single arrow stuck in it. "At least you hit the target! You're improving; it could be worse."

"True! You could have hit someone's foot, like Miss Bishop did once." One of Kate's teammates, Yelena, commented with a laugh. The two, along with Maya Lopez, made up the Blackmore University women's archery team and were surprisingly good at it, having won all the recent competitions.

You laughed along with the other two while Kate gradually turned redder and assumed a betrayed expression. "Hey!" She protested.

It was amazing how people you had known for such a short time could make you feel so good. You couldn't even remember the last time you had laughed so freely since the incident with Tara happened, and that was already a significant victory for you. It's not like being with Mindy, Chad, Anika, and the others didn't make you happy, but it was hard to enjoy the moments with them when you remembered that, in any other situation, Tara would be there with you too.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, and you leaned the tip of the bow on your foot, letting its weight rest on your shoulder so you could reach the device with your hands. Through the lockscreen, you could see a message notification from Mindy, as if she had read your thoughts.

Best Twin: Movie night at the Carpenters' house, are you coming?

Best Twin: Sam misses you

Best Twin: We all do

You sighed deeply and looked at the notification with a grimace, not sure exactly what to do. Of course, you would love to spend time with your friends, and you definitely felt guilty for avoiding Sam by extension, even though she understood the reason. But your palms started to sweat just at the thought of sharing a small space with Tara again.

Mindy had already told you that Tara had started therapy after the encounter you had in some of the university’s corridors some time ago, but she had also said that it was entirely valid if you still didn't feel ready to see Tara after everything.

It was a strange feeling, as if two forces were fighting for dominance within you when it came to Tara. On one hand, just thinking about her made your chest ache. A wave of anger, sadness, and pure humiliation invaded you, and your eyes threatened to well up. What she did to you, what she said to you, marked you like a painful burn that might never stop pulsating.

But on the other hand, you wondered if there were still traces of that other Tara who loved and treated you well. The Tara who made you soup when you were sick and promised never to leave you. Maybe it was your foolishness, but you didn't want to believe that that part of her had simply gone away forever.

"Are you okay?" A soft voice reached your ears and quickly snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to loosen the tight grip with which you had involuntarily held the phone. Looking up, you came face to face with Kate's kind blue eyes, patiently waiting for your response.

Kate Bishop had been an angel in your life, fitting in perfectly at the moment you needed her most. You had met her in the waiting room of the counseling center after spending a week living like a zombie following everything that happened with Tara, and you could barely comprehend that you were sharing the same space with someone like her.

At first glance, Kate Bishop didn't seem like someone who needed to be in a counseling center. She carried herself with confidence, always with impeccable posture and a calm expression on a model-like face. Always dressed in neat clothes that you were sure were designer and carrying a sports bag indicating her athletic background.

But when she approached you and started a conversation, saying she needed to talk to someone or she'd explode with anxiety before her first appointment, you began to realize that Kate might not be what you expected. She was, in fact, much kinder and more attentive than you could have predicted.

You talked a lot that day, and the next day, and the day after, until there came a point where you got along well enough to consider her a friend. Kate listened to everything about your issues with Tara and provided advice and emotional support. In return, you listened to her vent about her problems with a father who died in childhood, a mother imprisoned for fraud, and an inherited company she didn't want to have to run at that age.

They were quite different dilemmas, just as you were quite different people, but still, you felt at ease in her presence, and it was good to have someone who truly noticed you for once in your life.

"Hm? Okay. It's fine, yes, I just..." You searched for words but gave up, opting to speak the truth about what was bothering you. "Mindy invited me to watch movies with the others, and it's at Tara's house, and I didn't want to have to refuse, but I don't know if I'm ready for-"

Kate widened her eyes and raised her hands as if asking for a pause, interrupting your rapid and anxious flow of words. "Woah, hold on, champ. You don't have to go if you don't feel okay. They'll understand."

"Yeah, I know, it's just that..." You sighed, looking down at your feet planted in the field's grass. "I miss them, but... I can't."

As much as it hurt and was embarrassing to admit, you knew it still wasn't the right time. Not when you sometimes still woke up crying in the middle of the night with nightmares involving her.

"Then how about this?" Kate began to suggest, getting closer to you and gently shaking your shoulders. Physical touches had always been her way of offering comfort. "There's a party at my place tonight with some of my childhood friends, and I'm officially inviting you. You can tell your friend that you'll be busy spending time with a very beautiful, charming, and talented company."

You smiled as you let yourself be shaken by the cheerful girl in front of you. "A very humble company, apparently." You teased, poking her ribs playfully. "I don't want to disturb you, but thanks for the invite."

"Disturb? I'd be the one disturbing your illustrious evening by forcing you to hang out with my friends! Believe me, it's torture listening to Peter for 2 hours when he gets excited about his nerd stuff." Kate tried again, and by the way she looked at you with the expression of a begging puppy, you knew there would be no escape. "Please? It'll be nice to have you there."

There were two available possibilities. In the first, you could go back to your dorm, watch a bad movie alone, and spend the rest of the night thinking about how your friends would be having fun, specifically wondering if she would be having fun. In the second, you could take another step in getting rid of your codependent friendship (if it still existed) and enjoy the night with new people and a person who was becoming more and more important to you every day.

If Tara didn't want to be stuck in the past, you also had the right to do that. You deserved it too.

So, you accepted and only remembered to inform Mindy when you were already in the passenger seat of Kate's black Audi RS7.

_

Tara was distraught. Actually, saying that she was distraught was an understatement.

Last night had already started off as garbage from the moment Mindy announced that you wouldn't be coming to see them at the apartment. Sure, she should have expected it, but that didn't mean she didn't have any hope. She couldn't stop thinking about what you might be doing, the reasons why you hadn't come, how everything would have been better if you had.

But mostly, she felt relieved that you hadn't been there, because that meant she hadn't put you in danger again with another ghostface attack. It was a selfish thought. Quinn, her roommate, had died in front of her, Anika had her belly almost cut from end to end and was now in surgery, and all Tara could think about was finding you to see with her own eyes that you were okay.

She urgently searched for your face in the midst of the crowd of students walking through the Blackmore University campus, seeking the slightest fragment of your presence anywhere. She cursed herself again for not being able to just call you like she would if she hadn't messed up and made you block her in practically every possible place.

Finding you and making sure you were okay, in addition to delivering the terrible news, was her obligation. Mindy and Sam were with Anika at the hospital, and Chad had gone to check Ethan's alibi in the damn economics class. She needed to find you.

Fortunately, her prayers seemed to be answered by whatever entity it was. She saw you in the distance, radiant as she hadn't seen you in a long time. Tara's heart skipped a beat, and she opened her own smile after yours. It was bittersweet, the feeling of seeing you so happy but knowing that this happiness would be ruined the moment you laid eyes on her.

In a moment of distraction, a new wave of people passed in front of her, blocking her view of you. Fucking height. She thought with some annoyance as she tried to make her way through the students, trying to get closer to where you were.

When Tara finally managed to locate you again, the scene was quite different from before. Instead of laughing, looking forward, you had your back turned, seemingly struggling while a girl wrapped her arms around your neck. Tara felt a wave of anger rise through her veins and marched in your direction, ready to free you from whoever that crazy bitch was.

The younger Carpenter approached you with a speed she couldn't quite explain, and her motivation only seemed to grow when she noticed that the mysterious girl looked a lot like that senior she had seen with you in the hallway some time ago. Choosing to embrace her negative feelings, she used her strength in a way that would make her sister proud and aggressively pushed the girl away. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Tara?!" You exclaimed in shock, your voice carrying surprise, and your expression wavering between anger, astonishment, and anguish. "What do you think you're doing, are you crazy?!"

Tara saw you getting closer to the girl (Karen, Kendra, she couldn't remember.) and gently placing your hand on her shoulder, as if checking her condition. That small gesture made more anger bubble in her stomach. She wanted to scream, throw a fit, damn, she wanted to destroy something just to get rid of that rotten feeling corroding her from the inside.

But she looked into your eyes and could see a glimpse of the sadness she had caused in the past by this same line of thinking. She couldn't do this to you again, especially because that wasn't even why she had come looking for you. Tara swallowed hard and clenched her fists, deciding to save her frustration to take it out on calluses on her own fingers later.

"She was attacking you," Tara mumbled reluctantly, knowing that the explanation sounded stupid but that she also owed some reasoning for her actions.

You clearly didn't seem satisfied with her motivation, as you only stared at her with a frown and crossed arms. "Kate is a martial arts expert, Tara. She was just showing me how to escape from an arm lock."

Well, how was I supposed to know that? Tara thought, but she decided it was better not to worsen the situation. Before you could ask why she had been clearly looking at you for some time, she decided to explain.

"Look, I'm sorry. There was a ghostface attack in the apartment yesterday, and I just needed to know if you were safe."

"What?! An attack?! How- Are you guys okay?!" You asked exasperated, and Tara saw it. She saw the exact moment when you had to restrain your arms by your sides before doing something you would regret.

Tara remembered that being the first thing you did when you could see her after the surgeries last year. You ran to her on the gurney and held her face with both hands, as if she were fragile. You ran your thumbs over her cheeks, right above the freckles, wanting to make sure nothing was injured. She remembered feeling well cared for and loved.

But that was before she messed everything up. Now, all that was left was that. You restraining yourself from offering your heart to Tara, and she wanting to die realizing the damage she had done between you two.

"Sort of. Anika is in critical condition in the hospital, and... Quinn died." Tara delivered the news with a solemn voice, trying to control her own tears as she remembered what happened. She saw when Kate raised her arm to offer a comforting stroke on your back, and, for the first time, all Tara felt was emptiness knowing she couldn't comfort you in that way.

You let out a few sobs before trying to compose yourself. It was clear that you had been affected by the events, and Tara knew you well enough to know that you would want to go after the others to comfort them. "Which hospital is Anika in? And where are Sam, Mindy, and Chad, I... I need to talk to them."

Tara felt a bit of pride in realizing that she still knew your way of dealing with things, even though she was worried that your priority was always to take care of others' pains. Of course, much of that was her fault, and a knot closed in her throat every time she remembered that fact. "Sam and Mindy are at the hospital waiting for Anika to be discharged. Chad went with Ethan to handle something about an alibi."

"I can take you if you want," Kate offered you  in a chivalry that almost made Tara vomit. "It will be faster if we go by car."

"Or maybe it would be faster for her to take the subway with someone who knows the address, like me." Tara retorted sarcastically, crossing her arms to try to cause, at least, the minimal intimidation to her rival. It didn't seem to be working, which made her even more irritated. "Speaking of addresses, where were you last night, Kate?"

Feeling that the conversation would only escalate, you quickly shook your head. "Stop it, Tara. There's no way Kate could be the ghostface."

"And why not?" The girl asked defensively, with an offended tone almost similar to one she would have if you had accused her. It was frustrating for Tara that you seemed willing to vouch for a person you had barely known. "She suddenly appeared in your life, got so close to you in such a short time, don't you find that a bit suspicious?"

"This might sound a bit surprising to you, Tara, but some people actually like having me around." You retorted with irritation, throwing daggers at the girl with a look so intense that she almost stumbled backward. "Kate can't be ghostface because I spent the whole night with her, okay?"

Suddenly, Tara felt dizzy, with a buzzing in her ears. Apparently, you hadn't had the best problem in overcoming your feelings for her. She felt weird inside, as if something were stuck in her throat. "Oh, I didn't know you guys..."

"No! Not like that, I just..." You widened your eyes and hurried to correct the double meaning of the sentence, waving your hands frantically in a way that made Kate open a smile in amusement beside you. "...I slept at her apartment, but not with her. Not that I owe you an explanation anyway."

Your phone vibrated with a notification, and all three pairs of eyes turned to the device. You quickly checked the message and let out a sigh of relief. "It's Sam. She sent me the address of the hospital; I'm going there now. Without any of you, please."

"Okay. Just be careful, alright? And call me if you need anything." Tara watched reluctantly as Kate pulled you closer by the shoulders and planted a small kiss on your forehead. She swallowed the envy and looked away, trying to think of the last time she had offered you any kind of affection.

You said goodbye to Kate with a warm smile and a hug. For Tara, your lips pressed into a line, and you nodded briefly, almost as if you were greeting a stranger.

She wondered if that's what you two were now.

The Carpenter girl prepared to leave, maybe to find Chad and help him or just take a walk to ease the tornado swirling in her chest. However, she was interrupted by a hand on her arm. Kate Bishop tried to get her attention, wearing a conflicted expression on her face.

"What is it?" Tara grumbled, shaking her arm to free herself from the other girl's touch. She was used to being shorter than most people, but with Kate, it became even more annoying, especially when she had to look down at her.

"Look, I know you don't like me, and, to be honest, I don't like you one bit, but I need you to do something for me," Kate said seriously, putting a hand in her pocket and retrieving an object that Tara could only identify as a car key.

The shorter one scoffed. "Listen, I know Y/N and I are on bad terms, but I don't need you to ask me to take care of her. I'm going to do that anyway because I care about her, believe it or not."

Kate rolled her eyes impatiently. "I know. I can see that in you the same way you can see it in me."

It was true, as much as it bothered Tara to admit. She wasn't blind, and she had enough experience in reading people to know that the way Kate looked at you was sincere, and the girl genuinely cared about you. Putting aside her own jealousy and envy, Tara was relieved to know that there was someone good enough to show these feelings for you. You deserved it, after all.

The girl continued, "This device here is a prototype from my mom’s—my company. It's for security." She raised the object and placed it in Tara's hand, who could now see the details of what she had previously thought was a car key. It was a black oval keychain with a single button in the middle, also black. "I pulled some strings and turned it into an emergency button. As soon as you press it, a signal will be sent to police cars and ambulances, and it will be their priority to get to you. That's one of the advantages of being rich and having contacts, I guess."

Tara turned the button in her hands, feeling the object weigh more now that she knew its function. "And why are you giving this to me and not Y/N?"

"Because I know she would use it on anyone but herself." Kate sighed in frustration. Tara knew it was implied in the sentence that you would use the button for her. "I'm giving it to you because... despite the fighting and you being a jerk..."

"Wow. Thanks for the honesty."

"... I can still see that you care." The taller one finished her sentence without caring about the interruption. She looked between Tara and the button with a bit of uncertainty. "When you press it, a signal will also be sent to my phone, and I'll come running wherever it is."

There were more implicit intentions in that sentence that Tara could pick up. I'll come running to help Y/N. I'll take her away from you. I can protect her better than you can.

Tara just offered a short nod and turned to leave, with the emergency button weighing as much in her pocket as her heart weighed in her chest. Thousands of thoughts filled her head, and all of them were about you and your safety. It was Tara's duty to keep you safe, first because it was her fault that you were even in that situation, and second because she had already hurt you enough.

It was her mission to protect you. To prove to herself that she could still be good for you. To prove to you how much she still cared.

And if she couldn't, if she had to press that button... well...

Maybe it would be the sign she needed to understand that Kate Bishop deserved more of a place in your life than she did.

_

The lobby of the abandoned cinema ironically looked like something straight out of a horror movie that Tara would hate. Dust had piled up in heaps on all surfaces, and the orange lights were so dim that they threatened to go out at any moment.

The others were in the center of the other room, where Richie Kirsch, being the maniac he was, left his extensive collection of items from stab movies and real life ghostfaces. Tara, however, thought it would be a better idea to follow you wherever your feet and lost expression took you, just so she wouldn't have to leave you alone, of course.

You had your back turned to her while leaning on the filthy counter with your elbows. Tara couldn't tell what you were thinking, but obviously, you were not okay, just like everyone else in that situation.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a box of Milk Duds on the other side of the counter that seemed untouched, just a few inches to your left. She approached with light steps, not wanting to make any sudden movements as if that would scare you away, and reached out to bring the box closer. "You like these, right? You can have them if you want."

You didn't respond to the joke, and you didn't even turn around to look at Tara. She felt your indifference like a stab to the chest, but she continued nonetheless. "Or not. This must be like a thousand years old anywa-"

"Tara, shut up." You finally responded sharply, making the younger girl look down in shame. She really needed to get used to your new treatment of her. You ran your hands over your face, covering it as if you were tired.

"Sorry." Tara whispered back weakly. She deserved it, but more than anything, she wanted to be able to offer you some kind of support in that difficult moment, just as you had given her all the support she needed in the past.

You scoffed, in a gesture so hostile that the younger Carpenter almost couldn't believe it came from you. You were still facing away from her, but now slowly taking steps away with tense shoulders. "Did you learn a new word? Didn't know it was in your vocabulary."

Tara felt the anger in your voice, and it made her hands begin to tremble with anxiety. You were right, and it was long overdue for you to know that. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it's too late for this, but I'm sorry for everything I did."

"Do you even care? Seriously, Tara, do you really feel sorry, or do you just miss having some idiot around who would do anything for you?" You retorted, your voice rising even as your vocal cords trembled. A dam had just burst open between you two, and now it was time to deal with the flood.

"Of course, I care, I love you!"

"SHUT UP!" You shouted in response. Tara recoiled from you with a start, startled as she had never seen you raise your voice at anyone. You were still facing away, but Tara could see that, even though you had wrapped yourself in a hug to control your reactions, it wasn't working. Your entire body was tense, as if your brain was struggling to choose between fight or flight, and the result was the tremors that seemed to spread through your system. "You have no right to do this to me! To play with me like this!"

"I'm not lying!" The shorter one retorted, and in an impulsive move, she grabbed you by the shoulder and forced you to turn until your gazes met. Tears were already streaming down your eyes like waterfalls, and your entire face seemed contorted in excruciating pain. Tara wished she could absorb all your hurt for herself. "I know I messed up, but I really love you!"

"You're toxic, Tara! That's what you are!" You shouted back with strength, holding the girl's gaze as if it were a challenge you needed to win. "You hurt me! And I was getting better, damn it, I was getting better away from you!"

"I know you were! I know! That's why I'm apologizing, okay? Because you're the best person I've ever met, and I ruined you like I ruin everyone! Because the best moments I've ever had were with you, and I feel like tearing my eyes out when I remember that I hurt you by being this way!"

"Tara..."

"No! Please let me finish." She rejected your interruption, taking the opportunity to relieve all the pain and guilt she felt inside her. "I'm getting treatment, okay? And I know you're not obligated to forgive me for anything, but I want you to know that I'm trying to be better for you! I'm trying to fix my shit to be someone you and Sam and the others can be proud of!"

"Tara..."

"And I know I hurt you a lot, but please don't doubt the love I feel for you because it's the only good thing left in me. I won't blame you if you never want to see me again, but..."

"TARA, GET DOWN!" You shouted, and before Tara could react, you were already pushing her toward the dusty wooden floor.

Everything was happening too fast for the Carpenter's mind to process. She hit the ground with a grunt of pain and a potential bruise on her arm, but she could see the exact moment when an arm covered in a black cloak descended toward your leg, making a deep cut in your thigh.

You screamed in pain, and Tara screamed next, watching your blood soak through the fabric of your pants and start dripping onto the floor. In a surge of adrenaline, the small girl ran to your side and almost reached for your arm when she was suddenly engulfed in a tight grip, with her two arms pinned to her back and a hand holding a knife to her neck.

She struggled against the masked person holding her, futilely trying to break free to get to you. Tears streamed so quickly down her face that she could taste the saltiness invading her senses. "Let me go! Y/N, run! Please, run!"

A sinister laugh reached her ears like the hiss of a snake. "Oh, Tara. Did you think it would be that easy?"

She recognized that distorted voice with effects all too well. She still heard it in her nightmares, calling her name in the dark. Ghostface was back. "I'm going to kill you, you motherfucker!"

"Oh, but I don't think so." The voice spoke in an amused tone as another killer, wearing the same mask and black cloak, approached your figure on the ground. Tara wailed like a banshee when the other pulled your hair forcefully, forcing you to stand up as he placed a knife on your neck.

She struggled a little more. "Leave her alone!"

"And where's the fun in that?" The ghostface holding her responded, almost as if they were laughing. "Come on, Tara. Weren't you the one who liked to release your anger by hurting Y/N? Why should only you have that privilege? Let's see, where was it that you got stabbed again?"

At the same time, as if reacting to a code, the ghostface holding you advanced in quick and precise movements, gripping you by the waist with one arm while thrusting the knife into you with the other, just above your kidney.

You let out another gasping scream as the blade pierced your skin, and Tara felt your body sagging as if you were about to collapse. She herself wanted to fall to her knees and plead for you to be released, but she couldn't. Whoever was holding her had great strength.

"Don’t you want her to feel the same pain you felt, huh, Tara? Don't want her to suffer what you suffered?" The voice continued to growl in her ear, sounding increasingly excited by the escalating violence. The knife on Tara's neck kept her head in place, so she couldn't look at anything other than your agony.

"No, I don't. Please, PLEASE." Tara pleaded with a tearful voice as another stab was delivered to you, this time in the center of your abdomen. Your shirt gradually turned into a pool of blood, and Tara feared you would faint at any moment.

"Tara..." You could barely pronounce her name, your voice choked and your own blood streaming down your lips. Tara's gaze met yours, and she shivered when you shook your head. She knew what that meant.

You looked feverish. Sweat and blood mingled on your skin, creating the most disturbing of the paintings. Your eyes were vacant, and Tara was so afraid they would close at any moment, never to open again.

And yet, with that nod of your head, Tara understood that your top priority at the moment was to make her understand that it wasn't her fault.

The girl's knees threatened to give up as the knife entered you one, two, three times. She shook her head but couldn't close her eyes because she needed to see you, needed to see that your eyes were still open, that you were still alive.

You couldn't die. You promised not to leave, even if everyone else did. You couldn't die. You couldn't die. You. Couldn't. Die.

"I love you. I'm sorry for loving you, I'm sorry," Tara whispered because she had no strength to speak louder. She felt on the verge of giving up and letting those maniacs do whatever they wanted with her. Nothing mattered anymore if you weren't here, and it was all her fault.

The ghostface holding her laughed with a deep voice. "You know, I could turn this into a Romeo and Juliet scene, but I think it would be more fun to kill you while Sam is watching."

With that, Tara felt her body being thrown backward, and she hit the dirty wooden floor again, this time landing with her head in a wound that would undoubtedly become a concussion.

She got up in a frenzied pace, in an adrenaline rush, thinking she could try to save you now that she was free. But, looking ahead, she realized she was outside the lobby’s door, and the maniac murderer already held the handles. Despite Tara's attempt to advance, the ghostface had already sarcastically waved and locked the doors, creating a deadly separation between you and herself.

Tara pounded on the hard wooden door, ignoring the pain in her knuckles. She hit and hit and hit, feeling cuts open on her skin and burn from the repetitive contact. She was crying, screaming, punching, cursing, doing things she couldn't even rationalize because it didn't matter anymore.

Nothing mattered anymore. Not without you.

She collapsed on the floor, tired, injured, and desperate for you. Her sobs echoed in the seemingly empty hallway, and she was too afraid to put her ear to the door and hear screams of pain like your last breath. Tara felt lost until she remembered that she was no longer trapped.

Rushing to reach the device in her pocket, she sighed in relief to find it unbroken. She pressed the button multiple times without a second thought. If she had a chance to maybe save your life, she would grab it without a doubt.

Tara remembered what she had thought before, how pressing that button might symbolize that she shouldn't be in your life. She stood up and leaned against the wall, trying to rid herself of the wave of nausea, and left the button hidden near the door. If help came following the signal, the first place they would look would be where you were.

If help came and you made it out alive, that was a promise. Tara would finally leave you alone. That's what you deserved.

---

Tara was almost sure she had developed a hospital phobia since the events of last year.

There was no other explanation for why she felt uneasy in that environment, even after they had taken all precautions for her. She still hated the white walls and the smell of chemicals and couldn't wait to get out of there.

For now, she decided to ignore this feeling and continued following Sam through the corridors of fluorescent lighting. It was important for her to stay inside until they finally found the doctor who could tell them what they wanted to know.

She checked her hands again, finding the tanned skin covered in some bandages but free from the mixture of her blood and Ethan's after she... lost control.

After she was separated from you, everything happened so fast that Tara could almost think it was all a delusion. All the revelations, the attacks, her adding another victim to her count, the police arriving... All of that had taken a back seat because nothing was more important than you.

It was as if her life had turned into a black and white movie in the moments she was without you. Everything felt colorless, purposeless. Fortunately, she was pulled out of her own spiral of melancholy when she saw you being taken out of the old movie theater on a stretcher by paramedics. She tried to get closer, but it was needed to give you space so that nothing touched your wounds and caused an infection.

Tara tried to go in the ambulance with you, but she and Sam were pulled for another checkup, and you needed to be rushed to a surgery room urgently if you wanted to have the slightest chance of survival. So, Tara let you go, but there was not a moment when you weren't on her mind.

That's why now, she desperately searched for your surgeon with Sam. No one seemed to know about your condition, and she already felt like tearing her hair out from anxiety. Tara just needed to know if you were at least breathing.

"Dr. Isley?" Sam called the attention of a red-haired doctor who was passing by them in a hurry. Tara sighed in relief that her sister was paying attention to her surroundings because her mind was in a completely different place. "We were informed that you performed emergency surgery on a family member. Her name is Y/n Y/L, admitted with multiple stab wounds."

"Oh, yes. Miss Y/L." The doctor replied in a professional tone, but there was impatiency all over her body language. "It was a difficult surgery, and she lost a lot of blood, but fortunately, no vital organs were hit. I won't lie, the recovery will be painful, but at least she survived the operation without any apparent severe collateral effects."

This was the best news Tara had heard in days. She opened a smile and didn't even try to hide her own happiness as she prolonged the conversation. "Is she in any room? Can we see her?"

"Miss Y/L is in room 604, but I'm afraid only one person is allowed in at a time to avoid any disturbance."

"No problem, we can take turns." Sam pointed between her and her sister. Despite seeming much calmer than the younger one, Tara knew Sam was just as relieved as she was to know that you were still alive.

"No, you didn't understand. There's already someone in Miss Y/L's room." Dr. Isley warned and, seemingly losing the rest of her patience, she began to walk away. "Sorry, but I have other patients to attend to."

The two Carpenter sisters looked at each other alarmed. Who could be in your room? Chad was still in his own surgery, Anika had gone to stay with Mindy while she received some stitches, and frankly, your parents had never been present enough to travel between states so quickly for your sake.

They walked down the corridor, moving as fast as possible without disturbing the other people being treated or working in the area. Tara's heart threatened to jump out of her mouth as she looked from door to door, searching for the numbering of your room. 601. 602. 603.

Tara stopped so abruptly at the door that she and Sam bumped into each other, their sneakers making noise against the shiny white floor. The simple door had a small window through which it was possible to see the inside of the room without necessarily entering. Tara looked inside, ready to break the handle and force her way in if necessary.

But it wasn't, because Tara Carpenter recognized exactly the girl sitting next to your bed, holding your hand gently and stroking your hair, even though you were sleeping. She remembered, with a tightness in her chest, that Kate Bishop would be notified the moment she pressed the button.

And, in her own words, she would come running to take care of you.

"Tara, who-"

"I have to go." Tara interrupted her sister's words, looking at the scene in front of her without blinking. She knew what she had to do; there was no reason to fight the facts.

"What? What do you mean? You just got here." Sam asked, partially annoyed and partially confused by the younger one's actions.

"You heard the doctor. Her recovery will be painful, and if I stay around, all I'll cause is more pain." Tara opened a small smile just to try to pretend that she wasn’t dying inside. She knew Sam could see the truth, that she could see her broken heart and internal conflict, but she also knew that was the only possible solution.

"Tara..."

"Sam, you know I'm right. You told me that yourself a few days ago, remember? I hurt her." The girl shook her head in surrender and took a few steps away from the door. Away from you. "She needs peace, Sam. And the only way she can get that now is if I'm not around."

Tara took one last look inside the room, seeing how peaceful you looked. Sleeping, without any worries, and with an incredible and caring person by your side, ready to help you in whatever you needed.

Someone much better than her.

Perhaps that was the first time Tara had made a selfless decision in a long time, but she didn't feel deserving of any credit for it. What she had to do now was get better. Maybe more entries in her journal and more visits to her therapist would eventually fill the void she felt within her.

For now, she just turned around and started walking away from room 604. Each step hurt, like a razor cutting her skin, but it was the right thing to do. Tara had hurt you for far too long, and now...

Now it was time to let you go.

[thebluester2020]

can't tell if requests are open, but can you do sdv bachelors reactions to female farmer with a GYATT 😼💪🏽

Summary: Bachelors reacting to a farmer with a crazy shelf. Warning(s): Crack, Fluff, Some 18+ NSFW + Suggestiveness. Side note(s): My req(s) are always open ngl. I just take forever to get to stuff tbh 😭

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Elliot

[Pre-Relationship]

Ngl, he really wouldn't know what to do with himself. Especially when he first meets you.

I'm more than certain he'll be respectful and won't make it super obvious that he's looking but I wanna reference that one scene from Smiling Friends where Pim is struggling not to look at this one guy while a mosquito is sucking on his eye.

You wanna look (it's fucking killing you to keep your eyes down) but god, it would feel so good to just look for more than a few seconds.

And don't get me started if he accidentally brushes up against it while you two are close next to each other (say like- a busy tavern).

He's jerking off the second he gets home.

[Established Relationship]

When you two are dating, however, Elliot will still be respectful but he'll allow himself to touch you more often (as well as look).

But I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that he won't be extremely blatant in regards to your ass but will more so show it.

Wearing dress? All of a sudden he's behind you and admiring your figure by placing a hand just above your butt, even going so far as to rub small circles into your back as a sign that he could and wants to go lower (you have to repeatedly tell him its okay to touch you more intimately).

If you're wearing shorts? I think he's definitely had more than a few moments where he's spat out his tea (or nearly choked on something) when you suddenly bend down in front of him to pick something up.

He also had some moments where he's taken you at random just because his hard-on is too much to bear from seeing you walk around all day being thick with no consequences.

All in all though?

Definitely an ass man <3

Sebastian

[Pre-Relationship]

To start this off, I will literally fight anyone when I say- Sebastion is a boob man and no one can change my mind.

With that being said-

Just because the man has preferences doesn't mean he's going to sit and deny you have junk in the trunk.

So I like to think that before you guys are dating, he sees the crazy shelf but he's not going wild and rocking a hard-on just from spotting it once.

It's more of a- "Damn, farmer's got that ass" and he moves on.

Ngl, he will think about how it feels from time to time though

[Established Relationship]

Now, once you two start dating. It's an entirely different ballgame after that.

He's touching your ass any chance he gets.

When you two fuck? All of a sudden he prefers positions where your ass is the center of attention.

When munch mode is activated. He'll gladly eat it from the back.

But I think his favorite part of you having a crazy shelf? It would probably be when you two are cuddling tbh.

It's super soft to the touch and kinda like a stress ball so when you two are relaxing together, he kinda just...squeezes it. It would happen so often that where you don't really pay attention to it anymore.

If you're sitting on his lap while he's working on his computer or playing video games, he's going to grab it.

If you're laying on top of him in his bed, guess what?

You guessed it, he's grabbing it.

Sam

[Pre-Relationship]

If you've followed my blog for a little bit. You probably already know how this is going to go with Sam-

Perv Mode is online

When he sees you for the first time, and you turn around. Sam's eyes would nearly bulge out of his head.

But similarly to Elliot, he'll be respectful in the sense that he doesn't want to creep you out or make him think that he's some type of pervert.

However, once he gets home that night?

Definitely jerking it, maybe even watching a couple videos on his phone with a girl that looks suspiciously like you.

But on the flip side, each time he sees you or you decide to visit his house with a gift for him. He'll blush like a sinner in church each and every time.

[Established Relationship]

He becomes touchy to the max.

Like I'm talking that his hand is on your body (mostly your ass) ninety percent of the time.

However, hear me out on this one, I don't think he'd really care about the sex part per se? (Not that I'm saying he doesn't like positions where he can see it jiggle at maximum efficiency)

Sam would be more of a fan of the clothing, to be honest.

Tight dresses, shorts that just barely cover the underside of your butt etc.

Those are what really get him off 'cause it's teasing for him. The anticipation of being able to feel all up on you as soon as you're finished with your errands from the day and you're back inside your shared farmhouse.

Side headcanon though; I'm a firm believer that Sam would be a huge fan of you teasing him by rubbing your ass over his crotch over his clothes. Just saying.

Alex

[Pre-Relationship]

Okay so Alex is yet another guy that I think is a boob man but, ass is ass and he's not going to deny you've got that gyatt.

But I do also believe that he make it more obvious where his eyes are going when you're around him?

Like if you're talking to someone in a crowd and he's around, he's not going to hide that his eyes are landing on your butt.

And if you're close by his side, his hand will practically be twitching for a teensy feel.

Ultimately though, he'll keep his hands to himself.

[Established Relationship]

King of Backshots.

I know I just said he's a certified boob man but once again, he's not going to lie that you have a fattie.

So with that being said, his preferred positions? They're in a wide variety (when he's not preferring a mating press so he has a good view of your boobs ofc)

Doggy, Reverse Cowgirl, Prone-boning. If your ass is the center of attention then he's going it.

Also I headcanon that if he was on a professional Gritball team then he would definitely brag to his teammates about his partner who has a fat ass.

Low-key I think he'd be open to sharing you ngl. But he's the only one who gets to cum inside you.

Harvey

[Pre-Relationship]

The most respectful man on this list.

If you have a crazy shelf of an ass then ofc he'll see it but he won't see it.

He'll keep his eyes up and to your face the entire time.

Hell, I don't think he'll even dare to let his eyes wander a little out of respect for a potential patient.

That being said, once he's off the clock. He'll probably have flashbacks to you here and there.

[Established Relationship]

Even when he's got you locked in, he's still respectful.

Similar to Sebastion though, I think him being touchy with your butt is going to mostly be reserved for cuddling sessions and when y'all are having sex.

But hear me out on this one in regards to that, while I do believe he'll be a fan of positions where he sees it jiggle.

I think he's more of a fan of positions where he can more so feel it closer to him. Say like spooning sex and other positions that require you to be really close to him.

Then again, Harvey strikes me as that one meme of "My favorite position is seeing you happy" so there's that <33.

Shane

[Pre-Relationship]

I think this man nearly spits out his drink when he first spots you.

Like- no shame to my SDV men/women (except my queen Haley, she'll always be thicc as hell in my head) but I don't think many of them would appeal to Shane aside from Emily??

So when the farmer rolls into the valley, thick as hell. I think Shane develops a low-key crush the second he sees you.

But here's the thing, he wouldn't think of you inappropriately cause he's thinking "Oh, they'd never be into me. There are more appealing people here than me."

So any temptations he has to masturbate to the thought of you? They're quickly snuffed out by those thoughts.

However, that doesn't mean those urges don't pop up frequently every time you decide to visit him in shorts that hug tightly around your thighs.

Or when you wear a sundress that makes him do a cartoon gulp.

Little did he know you were wearing those on purpose.

[Established Relationship]

When you two start dating? Oh boy, prepare yourself.

It's like a volcano erupting basically. Everything he's held himself back from doing, everything he's wanted to do to/with you?

He's trying to do it all immediately to make up for lost time.

From plowing you against the back of your farmhouse, the slaps of your ass against his pelvis sounding wayyyy better in reality than what they did when the thought would flash through his head.

Or maybe even fucking you into the bedsheets!

The world is his oyster now <3.

And he's just glad that he has his fat-assed lover by his side to do everything with now.

[psychesalcove]

who knows how long i've loved you, you know i love you still

♡ leo valdez x fem. reader

synopsis. request!!

tw. nothing i think, just not proofread at all

guess who finally is writing again!! this past month has been soo packed with school and work things—this year is also a hectic scholarship one, so i've been doing that lol. i'm sorry that i haven't been active, lifes just been crazy 😓.

"hi."

you saw leo jump a little from where he sat at the ledge of the fire escape. he turned his head slightly in your direction, but his eyes stayed put on the streets of manhattan. "hey."

the seven were meeting up at sallys apartment—a tradition that had been going on for some time now. you had just come from the kitchen, were everyone was chatting away, minus leo. that's what brought you out here. you somehow always had a nack for knowing where he was; a longing, some said.

you walked over to him, silently asking him if you could sit. he nodded silently, the opposite of how he usually is at these gatherings—talking to anyone and everyone about whatever came to mind. you sat down at the approval nod, mimicking his position by draping your legs over the edge too.

"whats wrong?" you asked, getting straight to the point. leo never got this quiet unless something was wrong, you learned that from your time on argo ii with him. he shrugged his shoulders, eyes following a person walking their dog down the street.

"hey, cmon." you said lightly, bumping your shoulder with his. "i wanna know how to help."

he shrugged again, but this time started taking. "i don't know," he mumbled. "i just, feel weird–i guess, i don't know." he shrugged his shoulders again; must be his favorite gesture right now.

"i think you do know what you feel," you mused, eyes flickering from the across the street apartments to leo. "what's happening in that smart head of yours?" you prompted, ears picking up on percy singing horribly from somewhere inside.

you saw leo smile lightly at your wording from the corner of your eyes, but didn't mention it. "i think it just feels different now, i guess." he started. "i mean, everyone here seems to be figuring out their life. percy, annabeth, you and jason are at college, piper already has a business starting, hazel and frank are doing great at new rome, and then—" he stopped with a breath, shoulders slumping down.

"then i'm here with nothing to talk about. what do i even say? that im just doing nothing cool? i haven't even really starting applying to college, how do i talk about that and sound interesting?" he rambled, hands starting to gesture mindlessly.

you considered this. you haven't even realized that leo felt like this; he always seemed like the most interesting person to you. "you can talk alot about applying to college," you said finally, watching as he looked over and made eye contact with you for the first time since you came out here.

"talk about the collage, what you're thinking of majoring in, stuff like that. gods, you can even talk about joining a frat house; piper would joke about that for hours with you." as you talked, you watched as leo took in your words, though you didn't know if it was helping.

"remeber when i was applying to college last year? i talked about that with you for hours, and you didn't get bored, did you?" you asked. leo shook his head in response pressing his lips together as he thought.

"and, i promise you—i ever swear on river styx—that everyone in there would love to talk to you about anything, especially me." you said, hand coming up to hold his. you don't know where this gesture came from, but it almost seemed natural to you. you squeezed his hand, smiling as he reciprocated.

"thank you." leo mumbled, his free hand coming up to quickly rub at his eyes.

"leo, you better not start crying on me now," you joked, hand still in his. he laughed lightly at your statement, his arm now rubbing at his face instead of just his hands.

"can i hug you?" he asked. before he could even finish his question, you were removing your hand from his and instead embracing him fully. he mumbled something you couldn't pick up, but he quickly hugged you back tigher.

"thank you so much." he repeated, head resting on your shoulder.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Tw, I guess, for an accidental outing. It's kind of crack, and Robin has a dingus moment.

Steve makes a weird, awkward laugh whenever he sees someone he likes fully naked. Robin found it endearing when they were watching a movie together, and someone came on because it was also how she figured out he liked men. She didn't call him out on it, though, and let him come out to her on his own. She really didn't think about it when she talked to Eddie and he told her about their little incident.

"So, how is it living with Steve?" Robin asked as she sat in his living room with Eddie.

Eddie was still hated by the town, so until they calmed down, he was laying low at Steve's. Currently, they were waiting for Steve to finish making dinner. He was very particular about the kitchen and he didn't really let anyone help him cook. It was his space, but it was alright because his food was really good.

"I actually like it," Eddie grinned. "I mean, there was this awkward moment where he walked in on me naked, but we moved past that. I think."

"It's fine if you were a naked woman he liked, then he would have made this really awkward laugh," Robin said. "So I think you're good."

"Does it sound anything like this?" Eddie asked and proceeded to make the laugh. "Because he made that sound."

"Oh my god!" Robin exclaimed, looking horrified. "Tell me that I didn't just accidentally out Steve?"

"I'm afraid that you did," Eddie hissed mockingly, being helpful.

"You have to revoke my card!" Robin exclaimed and pulled a card out of her wallet, handing it over him.

"Hmm. You actually made yourself a queer card, and it's laminated. I didn't know you were an official lesbian. What's an unofficial lesbian?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, I made one for Steve, too," Robin said, her face pale. "And an unofficial lesbian is a fictional lesbian. Duh."

"Duh. How silly of me," Eddie said, rolling his eyes. "Can you make one for me too? Except inside of blue and red, can you make it black and red? Also, instead of lesbian can you put bisexual?"

"Really?!" Robin exclaimed with a gasp. "That's great! And yes!"

"Here you go," Eddie said and tried handing it back to her.

"No! You have to keep it! I'm suspended from any queer activities for outing him. I mean, you can't take it away permanently because I'm always going to be queer but I can't watch any queer movies, can't read any novels, and I can't go to gay bars," Robin said.

"Well, damn I was hoping we would watch Rocky Horror tonight," Eddie said, snapping his fingers. "Shucks."

"Nooo!!" Robin yelled and threw herself on the floor.

Steve came into the living room and frowned at Robin.

"I came in to tell you that dinner is done. Why are you on the floor?" Steve asked. "Why does Eddie have your queer card?"

"I'm sorry, Steve," Robin said, sitting on her knees. "It was an accident."

"So you had Eddie revoke your card?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Robin said.

"You realize you outed yourself by doing that?" Steve asked.

"Oh, damn. I did!" Robin exclaimed. "By the way, Eddie, I'm a lesbian."

"Yeah. I got that," Eddie laughed.

"Oh my God! I'm a dingus!" She yelled.

"Well, everyone has their dingus moments," Steve said. "Come on, I think we're even."

He pulled Robin up off the floor and into a hug.

"You don't hate me?" Robin sniffled.

"Your intention wasn't to out me or hurt me, so no, I don't hate you," Steve said. "Love you, babes."

"Love you too, babes," Robin said, sniffling again.

Steve put his arm around her and drew her into the kitchen. Eddie followed after with a grin.

"Oh, by the way, I'll out myself before there are any more accidents. I'm bisexual," Eddie grinned. "Robin's agreed to make me my very own card."

"Oh, thanks for telling me, man," Steve grinned and turned to Robin. "By the way, how did you accidentally out me?"

"Oh, don't you worry about that now, big boy, I'll tell you later," Eddie said with a smirk.

"Okay," Steve said, shrugging.

"Oh, so, Robin's not suspended then? Because now that I said it, I really want to watch Rocky Horror," Eddie said. "In fact, I have a Frankenfurter costume at the trailer. I might have worn it a few times."

Steve suddenly started laughing, a very awkward laugh.

"Oh my god!" Robin exclaimed.

"Look at that! It's not just when I'm naked!"

"What?!"

[therealcocoshady]

Kinktober - Day 15 - Spanking

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : Here is the Kinktober episode for the « spanking » prompt. And as you guys probably expect it, it is a continuation of the « Pet play » and « Kneeling » episodes. 👀

CW : D/S dynamic - BDSM - Spanking - Aftercare

That first weekend of Marshall « vetting » you as a sub turned out to be rather successful. By the end of it, you were absolutely drained and, though you would have expected it to be because of bedroom activities, it was not the case. The whole time had been about you getting familiar with his rules, learning more about what it meant to be a sub and his rules and expectations. And, as it turns out, there were a lot of things to remember and imprint in your brain.

Thankfully, he had been pretty patient with you, giving to time to adjust. You enjoyed the way submission turned off the noisy part of your brain, but it didn’t exactly come naturally to you. Neither did staying silent until being asked to speak. And your bad habit of running your mouth made it quite clear that you required a lot of explanations before following some rules. At the end of the first day, Marshall had ordered you to put your bag in the guest room, earning the biggest side eye from you. « I’m not sleeping in your room ? » you asked in a tone that failed to hide your disappointment. « You heard me » he simply hummed. However, the exhaustion of the day made it hard to follow the initial command of letting him be in charge. « But… why ? » you asked again with a frown. « Because I sleep better on my own » he sighed. « Not that I owe you an explanation. I’m in charge remember ? ». You nodded sheepishly but couldn’t resist asking yet another question. « Then why did you let me sleep with you last time ? » you asked with a raised eyebrow. He sighed again and rolled his eyes before getting up from the couch and facing you. « Y/N. I set the rules. That’s what I do. And last time was an exception. But the rule is still in place. » he said sternly. You nodded again. « Is sleeping in the same room that important to you ? » he finally asked. « I don’t know. I guess not » you shrugged. « It’s just… I figured that… you know. If we were to sleep together we’d actually sleep together too ? » you added. He looked at you and smiled before cupping your face. « You do realize it’s not only about sex, right ? I could very well be your dom in a totally platonic way. » he said calmly. You opened your eyes a little wider, thinking that maybe you had completely misread the situation and that the forms he’d asked you to fill regarding your bedroom preferences were a formality that didn’t mean anything. As soon as he saw the change of expression on your face, he chuckled. « Yeah, some of my plans include sex. But that’s not the core of what we’re doing. And after some sessions, you might actually want some space, too. A lot of subs do enjoy being able to unwind without their dom being around. » he added. You nodded one last time and went to settle in the guest bedroom.

The rest of the weekend proved him right : you actually enjoyed having a space you could claim as your own. You didn’t really have anyone you could compare him too, but you doubted Marshall could be described as a difficult dom. In fact, he was patient and, apparently, pretty lenient too. However, getting familiar with all those rules proved to be exhausting and you weren’t sure you’d be able to rest as much if you had to pay attention to your posture or anything else you were required to mind in his presence. That being said, he made sure to let you know he was there if you needed him. Especially after he fucked your brains out. He cuddled with you until you came to yourself and waited until you had regained some composure to ask if you needed him to stay longer. It was only after you sleepily shook your head and murmured a small « no, you can go, Sir » that he pressed a kiss to your forehead, praising you one last time and put his clothes back on before leaving you to rest.

Marshall was apparently quite satisfied with you and, before you went home, he suggested you come back the following weekend. Soon enough, a small routine was put in place : you spent most weekends at his place, in a D/S dynamic. The rest of the time, however, you were just friends. Especially when you were handing out in group settings. You quite liked it and it didn’t take long for you so develop some Pavlovian habits. On Friday evenings, when you showed up at his place, your brain was already in « sub mode », your inner noise quieting before you even reached the front door. And as weeks went by, you did a better job at following orders. You thought you were thriving. Until, a few weeks in, you arrived at his place in a bad mood. The last few days at work had been exhausting, your boss had been an ass and you were a ball of nerves and frustration.

It didn’t take long for Marshall to take note. You seemed unable to focus, failed to call him « Sir », asked him to repeat orders twice. He stared at you with concern but, whenever he asked what was up with you, you simply apologized and assured him that everything was alright. He was patient with you, though. At first, at least.

It wasn’t unusual for you to have rough days, and normally she found peace and comfort in your new dynamic. But tonight, something felt off. Every little thing seemed to grate on your nerves, and instead of the usual calm that Marshall’s presence brought, you felt like snapping. The first time you rolled your eyes at him, he let it slide with a warning. « Y/N, » he said in that low, controlled tone that always managed to get her attention. « Watch it. »

You had heard the warning, had even felt a flicker of guilt. But instead of responding with your usual obedience, the irritation bubbling just below the surface pushed you to defy him again. You rolled your eyes a second time, this time more deliberately, almost daring him to react. His gaze hardened, his voice dipping lower. « I’m not going to warn you again. » You should have stopped. You knew it. But something inside you rebelled against the authority in his voice, against the command in his eyes. Maybe it was the way the week had weighed on you, or maybe you were testing limits you hadn’t yet reached, but when he asked you to do something simple—hand him his phone from the coffee table—you rolled your eyes one more time as you did it.

The silence that followed was heavy, and in an instant, you knew you had gone too far. Marshall didn’t speak right away. He didn’t need to. The intensity in his gaze said everything. Your stomach tightened as you watched him stand from the couch, his full attention now fixed on you. Your heart started to race, the frustration that had driven your rebellion quickly giving way to something else—anticipation. You had never been punished before.

« Come here, »he said, his voice calm, but there was no mistaking the authority in his tone. You hesitated for a split second before obeying, stepping forward until you were standing directly in front of him. You didn’t meet his eyes this time, the weight of what was coming settling heavily in your chest. Your heart pounded as she realized the seriousness of your actions. Marshall stood tall, his posture firm, hands at his sides as he looked down at you. « What did I tell you about rolling your eyes at me? »You swallowed hard, your voice small. « Not to. »

« And how many times did I warn you? » he asked sternly. « Twice, » you answered, your voice barely a whisper now. Marshall nodded slowly, his expression unyielding. « Twice, » he repeated. « And you still chose to ignore me. » Your chest tightened. The defiance that had driven you earlier seemed to vanish, leaving behind a feeling of nervousness. You hadn’t expected to be pushed this far, hadn’t expected the punishment to feel so imminent. « I know you had a rough day, » he continued, his voice softer now but still firm. « But that doesn’t give you the right to disrespect me. » You felt your cheeks flush with guilt, your eyes dropping to the floor as the full weight of your actions sank in. You had crossed a line, and now you would face the consequences. « Go to the bedroom, » he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. « Undress and wait for me. »

Your stomach twisted at the command. The reality of what was about to happen settled over you, but you knew there was no point in resisting. This was part of the dynamic and you knew it. You had broken the rules, and now you would be held accountable. « Yes, Sir, » you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned to leave the room. Your hands trembled slightly as you undressed in the bedroom, folding your clothes neatly and placing them on the chair. The room felt colder than usual, or maybe it was just the nerves setting in. You knelt by the bed, your knees sinking into the soft carpet, your body tense as you waited for Marshall to come in.Your mind raced as you tried to steady your breathing. You trusted him completely, but this was uncharted territory for you. You had never been punished before. There had been reprimands, yes, but never something so formal—so intentional.

When the door finally opened, your heart skipped a beat. Marshall stepped into the room, his expression unreadable as he closed the door behind him. He didn’t speak right away, letting the weight of the moment settle between you. He circled you slowly, his presence commanding the room in a way that made you feel both vulnerable and safe all at once. « Look at me, » he ordered. You lifted your head, meeting his gaze. His blue eyes were steady, focused, and there was no doubt that he was in control. « What happens when you disobey me, Y/N? » he asked, his voice even but firm. « I get punished, » you answered quietly, your voice shaking just a little. « That’s right, » he said, stepping closer. « And why are you being punished tonight? »

« Because I disrespected you, » you whispered, cheeks burning with shame as you spoke the words aloud. Marshall nodded, his hand brushing lightly against your cheek before he moved around you again. « I don’t punish you to hurt you, » he said, his voice calm and steady. « I do it to remind you of the structure, to keep you grounded. You need to know that when you push, there will be consequences. That’s how this works. » You nodded, your throat tight. « Yes, Sir. »

« Stand up, » he commanded, and you obeyed immediately, rising to your feet though your legs felt shaky beneath you. « Hands on the bed, » he instructed, his voice low but firm. « Knees apart. » Your heart pounded as you bent over, placing your hands on the mattress, your knees spreading as you positioned yourself the way he had asked. You felt vulnerable in the position, exposed, but you knew this was part of it—part of the process of learning, of submitting.

Marshall stood behind you, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. « This is going to hurt, » he warned. « But I need you to remember why it’s happening. » You braced yourself, nodding slightly as you whispered, « Yes, Sir. » The first smack landed on your bare skin, sharp and firm, sending a jolt of pain through you. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to cry out, but the second strike followed soon after, and then the third. Each one was deliberate, measured, not too hard but enough to make you wince, enough to remind you of the line you had crossed. By the fifth strike, tears were welling in your eyes. It wasn’t just the physical sting—it was the emotional release, the overwhelming sense of guilt and submission flooding your senses.

Marshall paused, his hand resting gently on your back again. « You��re doing well, » he said softly, his voice soothing. « Just a little more. » You nodded, your voice too thick with emotion to respond, but you trusted him. You trusted him to know your limits, to guide you through this. When the final strike landed, a tear slipped down your cheek, but you didn’t feel broken. You felt relieved, grounded again in a way that only he could provide.

Marshall’s hands were gentle as he pulled you up into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. He held you tightly, his lips brushing the top of your head as he murmured softly, « It’s over now. » You buried your face in his chest, letting the tears flow freely as the last remnants of tension drained from your body. He held you close, his arms wrapped around you as he reassured you with his presence, his touch. « You’re mine, » he whispered, his voice soft but filled with conviction. « I take care of you. Always. » You nodded against him, your heart finally at peace, knowing that you were safe in his hands, no matter how far you had pushed. Your breath was still shaky as you nestled into Marshall’s chest, the sting of the punishment still lingering on your skin. The tears that had slipped out were slowing, and though your body felt drained, your mind was beginning to clear. The chaos that had swirled inside you all week was gone, replaced with a sense of calm that only Marshall seemed able to bring you back to.

But even as your breathing steadied, you knew there was still more to come—more than just the punishment. There was the moment after, the moment when he would make sure you were okay, because that was just as much a part of this as anything else. Marshall held you close, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back as your tears began to subside. He hadn’t spoken yet, letting you come down from the emotional high in your own time. His warmth, his solid presence, was grounding you, and you felt yourself sinking deeper into the safety of his embrace.

After a few moments, he shifted slightly, tilting your face up gently to meet his gaze. His eyes softened when they met yours, all the sternness from earlier replaced with concern and care. « You alright, Y/N? » he asked, his thumb brushing away the last tear that clung to your cheek. You nodded, though your throat still felt tight. « Yes, Sir, » you whispered, your voice hoarse from the emotions that had poured out of you. Marshall studied your face carefully, as though he was looking for any signs of lingering distress. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. « You did well, » he said softly. « You took that punishment exactly how you should have. But now, I need to know how you’re feeling. »

You closed your eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch. You weren’t sure how to put everything you were feeling into words. The punishment had been hard—physically, yes—but more than that, it had been emotional. It had been your first real experience with punishment, and while it had stung, it also left you feeling lighter, like some of the tension that had been building inside you had finally been released. « I feel… better, » you admitted, your voice soft. « It hurt, but… I needed it. I didn’t realize how much I needed to let go until it happened. And… I guess it’s not as scary. » Marshall nodded, his fingers brushing gently through your hair. « Sometimes that’s how it is, » he said quietly. « Punishment isn’t just about consequences. It’s about helping you let go of what you’re holding onto. But I need you to know, —you don’t have to carry things on your own. When something’s bothering you, you come to me. That’s what I’m here for. Understood? »

You nodded again, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest. It wasn’t just about the punishment. It was about the structure, the trust, and knowing that he was there to take care of you, even when you didn’t realize you needed it. « Yes, Sir, » you whispered.

Marshall’s hand moved down to your back, pulling you closer into his lap. He held you like that for a while, his touch soft and soothing, letting you come back to yourself in her own time, as he always did. The tension in your muscles slowly unwound as you breathed him in, his scent familiar and comforting.

« You’re not in trouble anymore, » he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. « It’s done. You’ve been forgiven. This is just about making sure you’re okay now. »

You let out a long breath, the last of the weight lifting from your chest. His words, simple as they were, meant a lot. Your connection was still there. You were not lost in your own head anymore—you were here, with him, and that was all that mattered. Marshall shifted again, this time tilting your chin up so you could meet his eyes. His thumb traced your lower lip as he spoke, his voice low and calm. « I want to make sure you’re not feeling any doubt about what happened. You know why I punished you, right? »

You nodded, your voice more steady now. « Yes, Sir. I disrespected you. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did.  Marshall gave a small nod, his expression firm but kind. « Good. But listen—if you’re ever feeling frustrated, if you’re having a rough day, you don’t have to test me to get my attention. You can come to me, tell me how you’re feeling, and we’ll deal with it. » His words hit you deeply, more than you could have expected, and you felt a lump form in your throat again—not from fear, but from relief. You had pushed him earlier, and instead of meeting you with anger, he had been understanding.

« I’m sorry, » you whispered, the words heavy with sincerity. « I didn’t mean to push you like that. »Marshall’s thumb brushed over your cheek again, his eyes softening even more. « I know, doll, » he said gently. « And I’ve already forgiven you. This isn’t about punishment anymore. This is about making sure you’re okay. Are you? »

You took a deep breath, nodding. “Yes, Sir. I’m okay.” He smiled softly at you, his hand moving to rest on the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss on the forehead. « Good girl, » he murmured against your skin. The praise made your heart swell, and you felt herself relax fully for the first time that night. You melted into his embrace, your head resting against his chest as his arms wrapped around you again. There was no tension left—only the quiet, comforting hum of knowing you were safe there.

Marshall held you like that for a while, his hands moving in slow, soothing patterns across your back. He didn’t rush you, didn’t push you to move or speak. He simply held you, his presence a steady anchor in the aftermath of everything you had just been through. After some time, he shifted slightly, pulling the blanket from the edge of the bed and draping it over your shoulders. « I want you to rest now, » he said softly. « You’ve been through enough for one night. »

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion finally catch up to you. You let him guide you to lie down on the bed, your body feeling heavy but content. Marshall tucked the blanket around you, his touch tender as he made sure you were comfortable. « Stay with me? » you asked quietly, your voice small but hopeful.

Marshall’s expression softened, and he gave you a reassuring smile. « Of course, » he said, slipping in beside you. He pulled you close, letting you rest your head on his chest as his arms wrapped protectively around you. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body sinking into the warmth and safety of his embrace. The day’s struggles, the punishment, the emotions—it all felt distant now, fading into the background as you focused on the steady rhythm of his breathing, the solid presence of him beside you.

« Thank you, » you whispered, your voice barely audible. Marshall’s hand stroked your hair gently, his voice soft as he replied, « I’ve got you, Y/N.»

[fanfic-obsessed]

Well...That Esclated Quickly

Here is another idea that came to me during my walk to work.  I want you to know, though it goes in a humorous direction it really is not a full fix-it. 

When Order 66 went live, some of the chips did not activate. There is no rhyme nor reason as to which chips activate and which did not. Not a huge amount compared to the whole, but some. Enough that a few hundred Jedi and a Few thousand Clones regroup in the aftermath. 

While you can fill in most of the blanks the following are included in my idea

Obi Wan Kenobi and a company’s worth of 212th clones, including Cody: Obi Wan was still shot off the cliff, to the horrified eyes of the still free clones. The still free clones don't have enough numbers to take on their brethren who appear to have gone insane, but do have enough to steal one of the midsized transport ships, one capable of hyperspace flight.  They reluctantly allow Obi Wan to go to Coruscant on his own, with the rationale that one person can sneak to the surface much easier than a whole company, while the clones establish a regroup point.  From there Obi Wan goes on the Mustafar, which ends as it did in canon. Obi Wan brings Padme to the transport ship where she still dies of complications of her pregnancy

Fox, Hound, a dozen other members of the CG, and the Younglings: Fox and the few members of the CG that were unaffected by O66 raced to beat the 501st to the Temple. They made it just a few minutes before their enslaved brothers. Just barely in time to evacuate the children in the creche with the help (and insistent sacrifice) of the adult Jedi.  While there were a few Creche Masters evacuated with the children, it was now basically just Fox and his CG functionally in charge of baby Jedi ranging from Babies to Pre teens. They connect with remains of the 212th before the events of Mustafar. 

Yoda, who did still have to kill his commander in order to escape, but was able to bring a few clones with him.  They still end up being collected by Bail Organa.

Ahsoka, Rex, Jesse and  a portion of the maintenance team for their battalion: They do not meet up with the rest for quite some time (at least three years). Rex’s chip did activate but he was able to get Ahsoka the message about Fives. After Rex is freed they find Jesse and the other free clones (soft shells all) looking on in horror at their controlled brethren. With the help of the maintenance team they are able to escape from the ship without freeing Maul or crashing into the moon.  By the time they are able to look past the immediate situation, the Temple is already burning and it has been announced that the Jedi are traitors. These 25 or so go to ground in Mandalorian space and try to figure out how to free the clones from the chips (beyond surgery which really does not work with the numbers they have to deal with). They do not realize anyone else has survived. 

Aayla survived, due to one of the clones (not Bly) pushing her out of the way and sacrificing his life for her. Bly’s chip does work. She escapes with two dozen free clones and six chipped clones tied up in the back (Including Bly, even the clones agree they cannot save everyone and hopefully it means that they can figure out what is going wrong).

Shaak Ti, 10 Veteran clones, 40 ‘Shinies’, 300 child and teenage cadets, three junior Kaminoan Scientists (not Nala Se) none of which knew about the chip or Order 66, and Omega.  Shaak Ti had been working with a few Kaminoan Scientists to see the clones as sentients in their own right and the reactions of the clones under the chip's control horrified a few of those scientists.  Between them and Omega, who had been paying attention and used this as a chance to escape the lab (the Bad Batch being off planet at the time) they were able to evacuate anyone not under the control of the chip. 

All of these people (Barring Ahsoka and Co) converge on the ship that had been stolen by the free 212th clones. Had less children survived (about a third of the living Jedi are children under the age of 11, plus the cadets) they all would likely have split into small groups and made their own way through the galaxy. But there was just no way to break into small enough groups to be safe AND still make sure the children (and to some extent the Shinies) were taken care of.  They were also too large a group to go anywhere in the Republic, or even anywhere in Mandalorian space (There were an awful lot of uninhabited planets in the galaxy but most were uninhabited for a reason). Thus there was only one thing they could do.

Take over the Hutt Empire.

To be fair the take over part did start out accidentally. The actual goal was to find a place to lay low in the Hutt Empire, possibly the only place Palpatine’s Empire could not reach quite yet(at least until Palpatine solidified his rule). 

So they found a planet within the Hutt Empire to lay low on, While Bail Organa left to begin planting the seeds for the rebellion (No Leia as the twins were not being split up). As much as I want it to be Tattoine, it just has too small a population to not have a couple of thousand people (Most of whom hide their very distinctive faces) showing not be noticeable. So they choose a planet with a higher population. 

This is where the trouble began. All of our adults are deeply traumatized, trained warriors who are not used to sitting by, universally feeling useless. They are facing an insurmountable task, still mostly directionless, and deeply angry at life.  

It starts with the local Hutt’s minions trying to shake down some newcomers, who were not looking for a target to vent their spleen but found one just the same. It does not end well for the minions. Nor the next six attempts, with different groups of Clones and Jedi each time.  No one has told Command yet, but they look at each other and ‘shit we can’t keep drawing attention to ourselves but we can’t leave either’

The solution (Commander Cody himself would like to reiterate this was not the correct solution)? Take out the Hutt. Then they realize that taking out the Hutt has just drawn more attention to this city as the other Hutts for the planet try to figure out who took out this one.

The next Solution? Take out the rest of the Hutts on the planet. 

They have now drawn even more attention to the planet from yet more Hutts. This is the one thing that is critical they do not have. 

The next Solution? Try three to make this plan work (Commander Cody reminds you that trying the same thing over and over again, hoping for different results, is the definition of insanity) and take out the Hutts looking for answers. 

By the time that these small groups have admitted to Command (Obi Wan, Cody, Yoda, Shaak Ti, Fox) what is going on, a few months later, they have accidentally taken over the Hutt Empire.

The Hutt Empire that is still nominally allied with Palpatine’s Empire. The Hutt Empire that has to stay allied to Palpatine’s Empire if they do not want to draw the attention of the entire Imperial Forces to the largest concentration of living Jedi and free Clones in the galaxy.  The Hutt Empire that no longer has any active Hutts. 

In this the human centric leaning of Palpatine’s Empire is actually helpful.  They very rarely wanted to deal with other species, so it was easy to appoint someone unknown but human to deal with the com calls and visits. It does mean that they have to make up a Hutt that they essentially have to play ‘Weekend at Bernie’s’ with, a couple of times a year when a representative insists on meeting with the Hutt in charge. 

Also the fact that Palpatine’s Empire is more interested in enslaving their own citizens for free as opposed to buying them from the Hutts means that they can shut down the slave trade within Hutt Space (over time).  Fox both loves and hates running a criminal empire. 

It should be noted that, even with Bly and the five other chipped clones, no one actually knows what is going on until Rex and Co find their way back to them.  We are going with the thought that a level 5 atomic scan is a ludicrously high level of scanning. Like sitting on a Nuclear Reactor to get an X-Ray kind of ludicrous, so not only does no one think to do that level of scanning to see what is wrong, but they do not even have that kind of equipment readily available.  The reports about Fives from Rex never made it to any kind of centralized repository, there is no way to know why most clones suddenly started to kill Jedi. Bly and Co spend the three years before Rex shows up in a makeshift brig, they can function almost normally until a Jedi is brought up or in the room with them. 

Bail laughs his ass off when he is told, through several intermediaries and coded messages, that the Jedi and the Clones accidentally took over a criminal empire.  Then he starts funneling the Path and the people his rebellion are rescuing into Hutt Space to find the Jedi. 

Three years in Rex, Ahsoka, the clones with them (now having grown to nearly another thousand) arrive with the news that they can disable the chips from a distance of about a large cruiser. 

That is how the Hutt Empire became freedom fighters.

[mssorceressupreme]

Hiii

I heard your requests were open 👀👀👀

Your writing is sooo amazing, it's addictive, like I can't get enough 😩🤚

Could I request a Minho X reader, reader is from Maze B, superrr close with Aris, and she's confident, sassy, sarcastic, loud and laughs a lot, total morale booster, she also cracks a lot of that's what she said jokes.

Since she's close W Aris, the boys might get the wrong idea and think they're a thing, but they clarify they're not lmao

You can ignore this request if you want, I just think you write so good, and so many people would love to read smth like this, I feel like some authors forget they're just teenagers ykwim?

It's so nice to see active Maze Runner blogs, especially when they write so bomb like you 😘

I hope you have a good day, never stop writing ♥️♥️♥️

Of course love, I’d be more than happy to write this for you 🥹❤️❤️❤️ Thank for the kind words, it really keeps me motivated, you’re such an angel 😭😭🫶🏼🫶🏼 Hope you have a great day too lovely!! 😘🥰 (also so sorry for the delayed post, I’ve been so busy with assignments lately 😭 I hope this satisfied your prompt 💓)

Who is She?

Pairing: Minho x Reader

Summary: Sparked with curiosity, Minho follows you one day. And your relationship takes a turn.

Warnings: none really, it’s a sweet imagine I like to think

——

The dining hall was a strange blend of sterile and vibrant. It was filled with chatter and the clinking of cutlery, the usual dinner routine. To you it was the most ‘normal’ atmosphere in this whole facility, the only time you felt sane. At least people weren’t shoving needles in your face, or interrogating you.

At one of the tables, the boys from maze A—Thomas, Minho, Newt, Frypan and Winston—sat together, their eyes scanning the room occasionally while engaging in conversation.

They were still trying to figure this new place out, especially the people in it. One of those people was you, confident in spirit and as sassy as can be, currently sitting with Aris. But they didn’t know his name, he was just a quiet kid to them, or your “boyfriend”, or so they thought.

“Whatever, I could take on 50 of those guards at once, they look like they’ve got no balls.” You sneered, while chewing on your food.

“Keep it low Y/N, we don’t want anyone overhearing us.” Aris warned.

“If I could set this whole place on fire, I would, but Stella won’t let me do shit. Don’t you think it’s time we try to escape?!” You huffed. Stella, one of the girls from maze B, was the bossiest girl you’ve ever came across. (aka the Gally of Maze B, before his redemption lol)

Mind you, she’s only alive to this day because you saved her from a griever…unfortunately. Sometimes you wished you left her in the maze.

Aris sighed, he too, disliked Stella. “Anyway, you should eat up. You’ve barely eaten since we got here.”

You slide your plate over to him, “Today’s your lucky day, I’m not hungry.”

He shrugged and began indulging in this second helping. Aris wasn’t much of a eater but boy, this is the first time you guys have had real food and he wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity.

“Look! An opening, I’m going to check it out.” You whispered, standing up as the guards walked away from their previous post.

“Y/N! Get back here!” Aris whisper-yelled, but you were determined to get through the other side of that door.

——

“Where is she going?” Minho observed as you made your way towards the door.

“Who?” Winston swiftly turned around, accidentally knocking over a cup of water in the process.

Newt chuckled, while Minho pressed his lips together. “Sorry, Minho!” Winston exclaimed, grabbing napkins.

“You’re alright man. I’ll be back.” Minho gave Winston a reassuring back tap, before leaving to find the bathroom. Or, maybe he just wanted to follow you.

——

You managed to get past the doors. This was a way easier attempt than anticipated, you thought to yourself but shrugged it off.

However, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being followed. Regardless, you didn’t care, the only thing that mattered was finding out what these people were really behind.

You halted your tracks, observing your surroundings. It seemed to be a never ending grey hallway with millions of doors, great, that makes it sooo much easier for you doesn’t it!

As Minho turned a corner, he bumped into you, nearly knocking you over.

“Woah, watch it!” You exclaimed, steadying yourself.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Minho was quick to defend himself.

You furrowed your brows, the newcomer from maze A. “Were you…following me?”

Minho scoffed, “Pft of all the people here, why’d you think I’d follow you.”

You shot him a look, “Oh come on, I’ve seen you newbies. You guys watch Aris and I like a hawke.”

One of the doors dinged, about to open, so Minho quickly reacted by pulling you by the waist into one of the tiny cracks in the hallway walls, adequate enough to fit two people.

“Stop touching me!” I grunted, pushing his hand away.”

“I’m barely even on you!” He retorted.

“Why were you following me anyway?!” I whispered, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I had to use the bathroom! I’m wet if you can’t tell!” He responded, but it came out a bit too wrong. Minho immediately regretted how that sounded.

You held back your laugh, “That’s what she said.”

With a tiny bit of banter, Minho managed to break down your walls, all too quickly, something you weren’t really used to.

“So what are you up to anyway? Sneaking around like you own the compound.” Minho smirked, while keeping an eye out for any guards.

“I’ve seen them move bodies in and out of here like clockwork. Aris and I don’t trust these people.”

Minho’s eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah? You should get back to your boyfriend then. I don’t think he’d be pleased to know you were in a confined space with another man.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, no. Aris isn’t my boyfriend. He’s more like a brother to me.”

There was a moment of silence as you stared at each other, the air thick with tension. Before either of you could say more, you heard footsteps. A guard was coming your way.

Minho quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you into what seemed like a nearby closet, closing the door behind you. You stood close together in the dark, barely daring to breathe.

The guards footsteps echoed past you and faded away, earning an exhale from the both of you.

“That was close,” You whispered, “and wow here we are in another ideal place to be in right now.” Boy, you are one sarcastic girl, Minho thought.

“I know I love it here.” Minho’s breath warm against your neck.

In the confined space, your proximity made every small movement noticeable. He could feel the heat radiating off you, and your scent was intoxicating. You looked up at him, your eyes reflecting the dim light filtering through the cracks in the door.

“Why did you really follow me?” You asked, voice soft but filled with curiosity.

Minho hesitated, then decided honestly was the best approach. “I don’t know. I guess I was curious. You seem like someone we could trust, Thomas doesn’t trust the people here either.”

“Thomas?”

“Grey shirt, brown hair?” Minho described him, hoping I would recognise him.

“Ah yes, I saw his little incident yesterday. Attempting to fight a guard in the dining hall is daring, he’s got some balls.”

“Sure does.”

“You seem to know the place really well, we could learn a thing or two from you.” Minho added.

You smiled, a genuine one that made Minho’s heart skip a beat, “Well, maybe we both have a lot to learn about each other.”

Minho could see the flicker of something more in your eyes, a spark that mirrored his own feelings. He leaned in slightly, feeling the magnetic pull between them.

Before anything could happen, the reality of your situation came crashing back. You couldn’t afford to get distracted, not with so much at stake.

“We should get back,” you whispered, though your eyes said you didn’t want to move.

Minho nodded reluctantly, “Yeah, we should before anyone finds us here.”

You carefully slipped out of the closet, the hall now silent and empty. As you made your way back together, Minho couldn’t help but feel a new sense of determination.

You were in this together now, and he would do whatever it took to protect you and figure out a way out of her.

“Yo, Aris!” You called out as you re-entered the dining hall. Aris gave you a questioning glance, as you appeared with Minho, you simply nodded, signalling that you were fine.

Minho returned to his friends, who eyed him curiously.

“What happened?” Thomas asked.

“Just…getting to know our new friend.” Minho said, glancing back at you. You were already back at your table with Aris, but you shot him a quick, knowing smile.

Minho then gestured for you and Aris to come join them which you did.

“Don’t be shy, you can sit next to me if you’d like.” Minho smirked, gesturing to the empty seat beside him.

You scoffed, “As if.” But you bit your lip, hiding back a smile.

“Careful, her boyfriend might not like that.” Newt warned, glancing at Aris to see his reaction.

“Oh no no, we’re not a thing.” Aris was quick to respond, “She’s like a sister to me.”

You chuckled, “Besides, I’m more into leaders, I like a guy who can lead.”

“Someone like me?” Minho teased.

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah you wish. Who was the one leading you around just now?”

“Uh actually, if I can recall, it was me who had the reigns.” He hummed, smiling when he saw you get all worked up.

“Stand down maze boy, this is my terrain. You guys want a way out, Aris and I can help you.”

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” Thomas agreed, leaning in closely.

Minho shot you a smile, and you returned it, thought a bit cocky, he did manage to grow on you or whatever.

And for the first time, you actually felt a spark of hope. With extra manpower, you might be able to break out of this place.

You might be in a dangerous situation, but at least you weren’t alone. And Minho knew deep down, that together, you could face whatever came next, for once, everyone at that table felt hopeful.

The safe haven felt closer, and so did your friendship with Minho. But could this friendship blossom into something more, you often pondered.

Perhaps so.

You smiled, watching as Minho lead the next discussion. You could get use to this, it felt nice to be relaxed and not take the lead for once.

[naomijoestar]

Hewwo!! May I request a platonic bruno gang reacting to a team member who has like. A creepy doll fashion aesthetic? Like makeup and clothes make them look like a spooky porcelain doll? Idk if this makes sense 😭

Masterlist here <3

Ofc you can, and this makes perfect sense! I’m sorry for the late reply 🫶🏽, also I have noticed how much you interact and support me, I always see you in my inbox and I wanna thank you so much for that❤️

Bucci Gang with a member who has a creepy doll fashion aesthetic (platonic)

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno is polite as always, though you can see a flicker of surprise when he first sees the new look. He leans in, his sharp eyes studying the details with interest. “You have quite a unique style,” he says thoughtfully, his tone carrying genuine appreciation. Though it’s unusual, he respects the confidence it takes to pull off such a distinct appearance. If anyone else reacts poorly, he’s quick to defend your aesthetic. “In our line of work, we’re not exactly traditional, are we?”

Leone Abbacchio

Abbacchio’s reaction is… complicated. At first, he just stares, his mouth pulling into a skeptical line. “Are we fighting enemies, or are you one of them?” he mutters, though there’s no real malice in it—just his trademark sarcasm. Over time, though, he becomes unexpectedly tolerant, even giving a rare compliment. “I suppose it’s better than whatever ridiculous things Mista throws together.” You’d catch him glancing every now and then, as if trying to figure out the logic behind the look, but he’ll never admit he’s intrigued.

Guido Mista

Mista’s first reaction? Pure shock. He almost jumps, then laughs nervously. “Geez, you look like one of those creepy dolls in horror movies,” he blurts out before he can stop himself. Despite his initial fright, Mista warms up quickly and becomes obsessed with the details, poking at your outfit and asking questions about the makeup. He’s always trying to convince you to try other creepy accessories and suggesting wild horror-inspired looks. He’s one of the few who tries to add the doll aesthetic to his own wardrobe, with questionable results.

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia doesn’t hold back—he’s visibly freaked out. “That’s freaky!” he exclaims, staring wide-eyed with a mix of awe and fear. He starts throwing questions your way. “How do you even make yourself look like that? Do you practice in the mirror? Doesn’t it hurt to keep such a serious face?” His curiosity overcomes his initial wariness, and he’ll sometimes follow you around, pestering you to teach him how to do some of the makeup tricks. He ends up respecting it as a “totally hardcore” look.

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo does a double-take, and for a moment, you can tell he’s genuinely startled. His reaction, however, is more reserved compared to the others. “It’s… very specific,” he says carefully, trying not to sound rude. He’s probably the only one who might subtly encourage a less eerie style, especially if he thinks it might distract or unsettle the group. Still, he eventually realizes that your look actually gives you an air of mystique, and he learns to appreciate it in his quiet, slightly uncomfortable way.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno’s reaction is subtle but layered. The first time he sees you, his gaze lingers, taking in every detail with a discerning eye. Unlike the others, he doesn’t show surprise or discomfort; instead, he offers a small, approving smile. “You’ve crafted a look that stands out,” he says, and there’s genuine admiration in his voice. Giorno appreciates art and self-expression, and he understands that your aesthetic is more than just a “creepy” look—it’s a statement.

There you go ml <3 I hope you like this! I honestly think this was super cute especially because I personally love experimenting with aesthetics and love dressing up different! Also, if I’m not very active it is because I have been working on something special for my birthday (october 31st; yes, I was born on halloween 👻) 👀, I hope you guys will like it once its out, hehe 🙃

[starillusion13]

The Blue Bird

Pairing: Yeosang x f!reader W.C: 3.1k

Genre: Fluff, Dystopian au, Pirate au

Warnings: hostage, mention of cut and dried blood(just words), jumping from a high window pane, being chased, running through forest at night, patching up wound, getting scratched by iron and metal objects. The beginning is a bit dark but A soft scenario in the end.

Network: @kvanity-main

⛓️

“Why are you helping me?”

That was his third time asking you but, you were still busy finding a way to break the chains. Frustratingly, tugging the hairs behind your ears, you began to search around the destroyed arena. A metal rod hit against your ankle and you whimpered when it scratched deeply. You ignored the stinging pain and returned to pick up the rod. You took it in your hand and felt, it was too heavy but still it seemed more useful than any other object lying around you. Approaching him, he raised a brow at your figure holding a rod in your hand.

“Woah! Wait there. Why with a rod?”

You rolled your eyes, “of course to break the chains and please keep quiet.”

He chuckled but within a blink a glare was sent in your direction, “I know that, you don’t have to say something so obvious. I thought you have a key to the locks. Just tell me why are you here?”

“That’s nothing to worry about.”

You hit the joints of the heavy iron chains with the rod. The chains made clanking sounds with the metal against the floor. You didn't mind anyone hearing you but he was worriedly looking around the dark place to see if anyone had arrived at the location after hearing the loud sound.

“Are you crazy? They can hear us.”

“If you don't keep quiet then they will hear us before we could have run away.”

“And how are you so sure that we can run away from here?”

You gripped the metal rod tightly in your grasp and stared at him but didn’t reply anything.

No matter what you will save him.

The distant source of lights reflecting in his eyes, sparkling brightly. His front long bangs sticking to his forehead and rest disheveled, he was staring at you. Never dodging your gaze on him, he followed your eyes traveling to his black beaded gothic necklaces of various lengths around his neck with a black long V-neck vest with long white back and a black loose bottom pants. Everything was dirty after being locked up in the arena for almost a week. A smirk appeared on his face when he noticed your long stare at his body.

“Do you like the view? I guess you might have liked it more if we have more light. Right?” His tone was clearly indicating his smugness visible on his face. You didn't look at him and proceeded to hit the chains again. There was a crack sound from one of them and he stared between the broken piece and you. He could see a small smile on your face and he nodded to himself but quickly raised his brows when you stared at him.

“I did it.” 

Well, he was happy that you could break it but still he didn’t show his true emotions and you quickly returned to break the other chain. You closed your eyes when you felt the burning of your skin in the ankle from the cut earlier. Your wrist was aching with the repeated activity but you were determined to do it, till the end. With a few more hits, finally you were able to break the other chain. There was a metal box beside you, placing yourself on it, the rod fell from your grasp and you took deep breaths.

Between your breaths, still you managed to call out his name, “Yeosang…run…run away.”

He was still trying to pry off the remaining chains which were snaked around his body. When he heard your voice, especially his name from your mouth. He quickly turned towards you. He noticed your exhausted form leaning in the distance. Throwing away the last chain, quick steps took him to you.

He crouched down and stared at you, “why are you telling me to run away. What about you?”

You shook your head before parting your eyelids to find him near you, so close to you. You couldn't believe it when you noticed the worriedness in his eyes. You both were sweating but you were more exhausted than him. The close up view made your vision more clear to notice his red birthmark beside his left eye. 

Everything is still exactly the same.

You fought back the urge to caress his face, to pull him into a hug. You inhaled sharply before looking away, “Run before they can find you.”

“But they will catch you here.” he placed his hands on your knees. You bit your lip when you felt him against your skin, the white flared knee length dress was already torn and dirty in several places from earlier the day but at least you made it possible to set him free. 

“I can manage on my own.”

“But I can’t manage to lose you…again.”

Your head shot up and your wide eyes stared at him, “again?”

Both of you heard banging of the metal door to your side in the far, your scared eyes glanced at the direction of the sound and quickly looked back at him, “they are here. Go Yeosang. You need to run.”

He retreated his palms from your knees, you curled your fingers at the loss of contact but still you strongly held your gaze on him. So, he would be going away, far away from you. You wiped your tears and looked down at your lap.

A hand suddenly extended in front of you, surprising you when you looked at the owner. No emotion was visible on his face but you could feel him getting impatient with every passing second. He should run away. Wasting a little time would make his chance of running away impossible. You stared at his hand.

“Come on. We are going together. Let’s go fast.”

You shook your head, “No No. This is not possible. I’m not going with you.”

He rolled his eyes before grabbing your wrist and pulled you on your feet. Your protests were only to be ignored by him when he started running to the other direction from the door.

“Yeosang. Leave my hand. I can’t go.”

“Keep quiet. They will catch us before we can run away.”

Your lips curled up at his response. He repeated your words from earlier. Both of you skipped over some old wooden and metal objects lying all around you. The place was dark, only the source of moonlight and tower lights were illuminating all around. The wide arena was lining by a lot of rooms and you didn't know anything about this place so you frantically looked around when you tripped on a broken wooden chair lying down.

“Be careful.” His voice was deep but the caring was felt softly.

You nodded your head and followed behind. Well, you don't have any more options. He was holding onto your wrist so tightly that you were a child who would run away here and there if he let it loose.

Ending up in the very end room, there were shattered pieces of glasses all around the room and it was too dark from the outside. You were hesitant to enter the room but he assured you to be fine and to trust him.

Trust him….

You trust him…more than he can even think of.

There was a window at the opposite wall but it was too high. The fences were all broken and there was nothing that you could climb onto to reach that high. He left your wrist when he started looking around the room. His wrist which still had the heavy metal holes hit against the metal objects and he cursed under his breath. There was an old wooden shelf but it was not enough to climb and it could not be trusted. Still, he pushed it towards the window and placed it just under the window pane. 

“Climb up.”

“Me?”

“Just do it fast. They might find us here soon. Come on, do it.”

You again parted your lips to protest when he swept you off the floor by your waist and held you up so that you could easily rest your upper body on top of the shelf.

“Don't sit on that shelf longer. It might break anytime. Just jump on that window space.”

You did as he told you and held the rod beside the window. A sudden breeze hit you on the face, the view of the vast forest before you was a dark and dense area with trees. Are you really running away? With him?

You turned around to see him looking at the door.

“What happened?”

He signaled you to keep quiet. He held a finger to his lips and he moved closer to the door.

“Yeosang…”

“Jump.”

“No. I did so much to save you only for you to tell me to go away without you.”

He reached near the door and glared at you. Why? Peeking outside the room, he could hear some footsteps nearby and he quickly stepped near you. You were looking down at him with teary eyes. You can't leave him all alone.

“We don’t have time. Just jump off.”

“I won't jump without you. If they are catching you then I will be here with you. We will both face this together. Please.” You held your hand towards him, “grab it. Don't leave it again like the last time. We will fight this together.”

“Y/n….”

“Yes. I am here for you, Yeosang.”

With a final glance towards the door, he quickly ran towards the shelf, “it’s you.” he sadly smiled. You nodded and urged him to quickly get on the wood. His first attempt went in vain when his foot slipped and he got a scratch on the knee. He cursed to himself and tried again but the next following attempts were again not a success. But the last attempt was successful when you held his biceps and gripped tightly. But the shelf was losing its balance so he placed his foot beside you on the window space. He was breathing heavily but still you both smiled towards each other.

“You did it, Yeosang.”

“For you.”

You nodded and turned around, “we need to jump.”

You didn't notice but he was still staring at you when he suddenly pulled you in a hug. You missed this hug, you missed his warmth against you, you missed the feeling with him. You missed him.

Retreating himself from you, he intertwined his fingers with yours and held it tightly. 

With deep breaths, you both glanced towards each other, “Are you ready?”

“Yes! Always with you.”

You both jumped off the window. You whimpered when you felt the pain in your ankle worsened with the jump and he groaned beside you while rubbing his elbow. “Wow, that was high.”

When he noticed your painful expression, he shifted towards you and held your face in his palms, “is it paining?”

“Yes. I don't think I can run anymore.”

He shook his head when he caressed your cheeks and his eyes wandered around your face when he noticed a few cuts and purple marks, the corner of your lips had dried blood similar to his. Both of your conditions were almost the same. He kissed your lips, catching you off guard.

“I will take you to our destination.”

You were still lost in the thought that he kissed you a few moments before. The feelings of his lips against yours was still lingering on you and you kept looking at him. “But where are we even going?”

“Captain is waiting for us.”

Your eyes went wide with the expectation, “you mean Hongjoong?” 

He chuckled and held you in bridal style before standing up, “Yes. Our captain, Joong.”

“Do you think he will let me board his ship?” 

Your question made him stop in his tracks. He stared down at you in his arms. You avoided locking eyes with him so you averted your gaze everywhere except on him.

“Look at me, y/n. Please.”

His plea ached your heart when you turned to look at his hard stare on you which quickly softens, “no matter what. He would never blame you. You were never the part of that life which I forced on you one day. You always belonged to this place but, It was me who held you hostage in the ship. So, it was all natural for you to run away.”

“But I didn't want to.” You said quietly.

He again resumed walking. Now, when his ears perked up with some shuffle sounds and shouts from a distance, he was no longer walking. He made a run towards the shore. He knew very well the direction to the secret way to the pirate ship. Wooyoung had taught him all the hidden ways to escape the place but somehow earlier today when he came to save him, he had to run away because one of the guards went inside to keep an eye on the hostage.

You continued when you looked at his frowning face glancing at you often to ask so many things but he couldn't as he was running with you, “I loved being with you. With all of you. You are my only family, Yeosang. I didn’t run away because I wanted to. I did it to save you.” you scoffed, “but still you got yourself caught.”

He remained quiet.

Soon, he reached the shore where the pirate ship was visible and few figures were leaning against the railing of the ship. He put you down on your feet near the plank and was breathing heavily. 

“Are you okay?” you asked him softly.

He nodded, “you are heavy.”

You scoffed, “I hit the chains with that heavy iron rod earlier. To save you. I don't know why you let your ass get caught every time.”

“So that you can save me again.”

“Yeosang, it’s not funny.”

He held your shoulders to face him, he planted a kiss on your forehead and smiled, “Thank you. You saved me so many times. I owe you so much. I love you, y/n.”

“I have loved you since the day you called me as your family on the ship. I love you. I really love you, yeosang.”

He again kissed you and this time it was not a quick one. You kissed him back and pulled him towards you more. Tears falling down from both of your eyes. The longing feelings of both of the presence was all visible in the desperation of the kiss.

Someone cleared his throat beside both of you and you quickly pulled apart. Yeosang noticed the person to his side and rolled his eyes.

“Wooyoung.” he groaned when calling his mate’s name.

“Um…you both here? I mean that’s good…but how? Am I seeing things? Are you ghosts?” he placed his hands over his mouth and his eyes were wide.

“Shut up, wooyoung. I saved his ass earlier and now I’m back to my family.”

He squealed and ran towards you before engulfing you in a hug,” y/n…you are finally here.”

“Yes I am.” You said and patted his back.

Yeosang rolled his eyes, “well won’t you welcome me back? I am alive after you left me alone.”

You laughed at their interaction and bicker.

Wooyoung lead the way to climb up the ship and Yeosang pulled you closer to him, “we are back to our home.”

“Yes, we are. Together.”

When you both reached the deck of the ship, Hongjoong and Seonghwa turned towards both of you, “Yeosang?...and y/n.”

The said man proudly walked with you towards him and smiled, “my birdy saved me again.” He placed his hand around your shoulder.

“Really?” Captain asked in surprise but he was thankful.

“I don’t know if I’m allowed back here or not but I’m always by the side of Ateez. Also, I have collected a lot of information about the guardians.” 

Seonghwa nodded and Hongjoong chuckled, “if you leave, Yeosang will follow you back. And, we are not mad with you, y/n. you are always welcome back to the ship.”

You looked towards Yeosang who was already staring at you, “Yeosang…”

“Let’s go inside…you are hurt. Let’s talk there while I patch you up.”

You nodded and let him guide you to the medic room. 

Entering the familiar room after so many months brought back the memories of you both spending time together in there and you mentally thanked to stumble into the ship that day.

“Did you miss this place?” He was searching for all the things he needed and he cursed when he noticed Yunho had misplaced few things again.

You sat on the bed and nodded, “I missed this place……and you. This room is nothing without you. We have so many memories together here.”

“I never felt the same here after you left. I was again all alone with my own life and thoughts.”

He kneeled down in front of you to patch your leg and he noticed the amount of blood it was oozing out. He did all the step by step process to patch you and when it was done he was about to stand but you held him in place before crouching down in front of him and held his elbow, “ let me do it for you.”

“It’s okay, y/n. Don’t worry.”

“Yeosang, we promised that we will face everything together and that means we will take care of each other too. Now come on let me help you.”

There was a fondness in his eyes and you followed the steps he had once taught you.

When you both were done, you wrapped your arms around him and placed your head against his chest, “what happened, y/n?”

“I can’t believe you are here with me.” He smiled hearing your soft murmur against his bare chest. Your breath hitting against his warm skin and your ear picking up his heartbeat. You closed your eyes to feel the moment. Only with him.

He patted your back before stroking your head, “and this time neither of us is going anywhere. You know why I’m always back home and on my right track with you?”

“Because you can’t save yourself?” You smiled in the end of your question but quickly looked up. He cupped your face, “maybe I can’t but that’s not the point.”

“Then?”

“It’s because you are my little blue bird.”

The bird who always helps him to navigate back to his home. Like a ray of light of hope, you always showed him the hope to return to the family every time and brought the joy. And this time, his bird saved him again but also, he saved his bird from wandering around.

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

[gingiesworld]

Rocking Around The Christmas Tree

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1050

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff

18+ MINORS DNI

It was Wanda’s first Christmas in the States since she lost her brother, the Avengers taking her in and giving her a home. As Nat left with Clint to spend the holidays with his family, everyone else left to spend it with their own family and friends, leaving Wanda and Y/N alone in the compound.

Although Y/N had a crush on the witch, they were afraid to act on it as she was still mourning the loss of her twin.

“Good morning.” Wanda greeted shyly as she walked into the kitchen, seeing Y/N prepare for the christmas cookies and building the gingerbread house. “What’s all this?” She asked as she stood beside them.

“I figured it’s your first Christmas here, so I wanted to show you how we spend it here.” They told her with a smile.

“Why didn’t you do what the others had done, spend it with your own family?” Wanda asked as Y/N looked down before shaking their head no.

“Because I wanted to be here with you.” They told her with a bright smile. “So come on, you like to bake right?” Wanda nodded as she joined Y/N’s side. With it being christmas eve, they had decided to do all of the baking before watching christmas movies.

“I didn’t realise there are a lot of activities for just one day.” Wanda laughed as Y/N nodded.

“There is more.” Y/N told her. “But we can always do that next year because now we watch movies and eat junk.”

“What?” Wanda laughed at their enthusiasm, soon following them into the living room. “The Grinch?” She questioned as Y/N smiled.

“The original cartoon version, and then the Jim Carrey one.” They told her as they threw a pack of crisps at her. “Now, sit back and relax.” They told her with a smile. She had done as they told her, thanking them quietly when they covered her with a blanket, soon finding herself leaning her head on their shoulder.

“What now?” She asked as they jumped forward, startling her slightly.

“This is for you.” They handed her a gift bag. “Open it.”

“Pyjamas?” She raised her brow.

“Christmas pajamas, now go shower and change woman.” They pushed her into her room as she laughed. They soon went into their own to change into matching pajamas.

“I thought only couples and families would wear matching pajamas?” She questioned with a raised brow.

“Well, we have known each other for almost a year and I consider you my family.” They told her sweetly, making her smile and her heart flutter. “Besides, you deserve to have the full experience.”

The two soon sat down as they ordered pizza, not really wanting to cook anything for dinner.

As they ate as A Wonderful Life played on the TV, Y/N sighed as they turned to look at her.

“You asked about my family before.” They started as Wanda nodded, giving them her full attention. “They died, it was a couple of years ago, I had just joined SHIELD after leaving the military.” They wiped their hands on their pants. “My parents and baby sister were proud of me, I was going to fight alongside the Avengers. But then, Pierce, he killed them, he recorded it and showed me when they captured me. Tortured me but watching how they tortured my parents and Kay, that was the worst torture anyone could ever go through.” Wanda reached for their hand. “Last year was my first Christmas without them, and I was here alone. Everyone was off with their own families and all I felt was pain and anguish during the time of year we usually enjoy.” They looked into her eyes, stinging with tears that threatened to fall. “I never wanted you to feel what I felt last Christmas.”

“Y/N.” Wanda spoke their name tenderly before she caressed their cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok.” They gave her a smile. “I learned how to live with the pain and I fight everyday so someone else doesn’t have to go through the pain I did.”

“You’re amazing.” Wanda told them honestly as they smiled before turning back to the TV.

The next morning rolled around after the two had fell asleep on the sofa in each other's arms, Y/N woke before Wanda and moved her gently before getting up to make some breakfast for the two. Her gift is already sitting proudly on the counter.

“Hey.” Wanda smiled as she approached Y/N who was cooking pancakes. “Christmas tree pancakes.”

“With cherries.” They beamed as they plated them up for her. “And this is for you.”

“What?” She questioned as she looked at the gift wrapped box. “I never got you anything.”

“Seeing that smile on your face is a gift.” They told her honestly. They watched as she opened it eagerly, her eyes glistened as she spotted the Dick Van Dyke Show box set.

“How did you know?” She asked them as they shrugged.

“I remember Pietro told us about how the two of you loved the show when you were kids.” They told her. “It was one of the things we spoke about before he uh.”

“Thank you.” She whispered as she gave them a hug, their arms instantly wrapped around her waist.

“Dance with me?” They requested as White Christmas played through the speakers. Wanda’s arms moved up around their neck as their hands remained on her hips, both swaying to the gentle rhythm of the song. A smile on Wanda’s face as their breakfast remained untouched.

“Thank you for this.” She told them as she looked up into their eyes.

“You don’t have to say it.” They told her gently. “Just seeing this smile is all the thanks I need.”

“Mistletoe.” Wanda pointed up above them as the two chuckled.

“Stark.” They both spoke in unison before looking back at each other.

“Isn’t that sort of a tradition too?” She asked with her lip between her teeth.

“It is.” They confirmed. “But we don’t.” They were cut off by her lips on their own. Pouring every emotion and feeling into the kiss, the two feeling complete for the first time in their lonely lives.

[masterjedilenawrites]

I’m seeing a rise in posts about lack of interaction, lack of motivation, the fandom dying, and related concerns. This makes me incredibly sad.

Firstly because of ✨empathy✨, it always bums me out to hear others feeling burnt out or let down. 😢 I wish you were all my neighbors so I could invite you in, wrap you in a blanket, feed you a nice warm meal, and tell you everything will be alright.

And secondly, because I’m ✨old✨. In Tumblr years, anyways. 3.5 years I’ve been active in fandom spaces on here (+2 years of fandom lurking before that). There are natural ebbs and flows to all fandoms. The ebbs - the recessions, the wanings, the declines - almost always start the same. A show/season ends, people have feelings. From there, it’s fight or flight. You either move on to other stories or you stick around and project your frustrations onto the fandom itself. Not enough reblogs, no one’s taking requests, etc etc. And then the others who have stuck around join into the negativity and before you know it, most are so jaded that they move on, too.

For shows with multiple seasons or related projects, they’ll get a chance to flow again - swell, wax, increase. For those without, there’s usually still a group that sticks around for a bit, albeit with less zeal and other interests mixed in.

But! That’s actually the best part of the fandom cycle! If you get a group loyal enough, they stick around and experiment. They play. They have fun. There’s no pressure to keep up with canon or follow trends. They can bond with fellow fans who are just as loyal and innovative. I’ve seen this countless times with the clone fandom specifically. How many years between seasons? Before Rebels? Before the Bad Batch? Before live action adaptations and cameos? And the fandom continued on through the creativity and hope of the ones who didn’t get disheartened and stuck around.

Knowing this lull is part of a trend makes me sad for the ones who don’t, who will see the first tumbleweed or hear the first cricket and decide to abandon it, not realizing they are contributing to the very thing they fear. If there is one bit of advice I can impart on anyone who still has interest and wants to have a fun, engaging fandom experience, it’s ✨be the change you want to see✨

I may not be able to literally open the door of my home for those who need comfort, but I can still tell you everything will be alright. I can point you in the direction of wonderful creators who are still creating. I can share the strategies I use to stay motivated. And I can open a figurative door (aka my ask box) for anyone who wants to stop by for a chat and a hug… and maybe some tea or a pina colada or something 🧋🍹 A little beverage always makes me feel better, anyway.

🤗