#she barely even acknowledged it and didn't even ask me how this thing made me feel so. lol. lmao even.

[theophagie-remade]

I can't believe I can't find any information on how to do this thing that not many people need to do. smh

[plutolovesyou]

heh.. okay, so you asked for different.. rubs hands together villaniously as i materialize from the bottomless shadows..

sub!vampire!ellie biting/bloodsucking denial.. reminding her how much of a good girl she needs to be even when your wrist is practically just brushing past her lips to cradle her face.. or when the weakest bead of blood is pricked from your finger.. flaunting it.. teasing.. goddess bless throw in whatever else you see fit freakmaster

TEMPTATION WAITS

before you read! ▪︎ my masterlist ☆: co-president...this is absolutely divine...shoulda seen the way i dropped everything for this im literally #TWEAKING. new fav thing i've ever written methinks. title song. (vibes aren't there but the title was too good.) ps: if you spot any typos i wrote this with one hand. KIDDING...or am i? divider creds—cafekitsune. ◇: not outright smut, but still suggestive!! and nsfw is described. fluffy end bc i think she earned it, lore sprinkled in because why nawt it's interesting, finger sucking (e! receiving), this is maybe a lil ooc idrc, she's described as looking quite ill in her vampiric form + begs like her century long life depends on it fr, (but also has a bit of an attitude, it issss ellie after all), mean!r, talk of blood/previous bite wounds. ++ 3.3k wc. doesn't need to be that long but atp? take it or leave it LOLL. filing under "oneshots" bc it's way more than usual reqs hehe.

“Please, baby. Just one taste. I'll do anything.” Desperate, shaky pleas spilled from Ellie, her voice noticeably tired from the effort. She's been at this for what felt like forever now, and you were getting tired of ignoring her. Or rather, a little bored.

She was kneeling on the wooden floor by your bed, fisting the creased sheets, trying to capture your attention. The shimmering moonlight was dancing on her features as if it was a sparkle of fireflies, making her oddly colored eyes appear to glow, and highlighting her sickly appearance.

In her vampiric form, her skin was tinted a ghostly—even chalky—white, barely a smidgen of blush dancing on the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes shifted from their original grassy green to a peculiar duochrome blend of emerald and ruby. She really looked unwell, but you knew it was merely a product of circumstance, her gloomy fate.

Ellie donned somber dark circles around her eyes, her lips withered, pale, and thin as a piece of tissue paper. Just behind them though, rested two deadly weapons of her very own—sizeable, razor-sharp, gleaming ivory canines reflecting the scarce lighting as if they were made of mirrored glass.

For the first time tonight, you met her gaze, assuming an unbreakable poker face. Her keen sight could pick out the most subtle of twitches, so you learned to defeat that. The moment you met her line of sight she perked up, her eyes widening in glee, you had finally acknowledged her existence after so long.

Scooting forward you placed yourself right in front of her still kneeling form, sitting so she was in between your legs, but she wasn't allowed to touch you until you said so. What torture.

She began again, “Can I do something to make you change your mind? I'll do anything. Anything in the world. I'll make you feel re-really good, and then I won't ask again…ever even, if that's what you want. Just please let me…I'm so thirsty.” She was rambling a million miles a minute, slurring her words and cutting herself off with hiccups, stuttering like was having a nervous breakdown.

Her chest heaving up and down was visible to you despite the dim surroundings, and you could just make out her facial expression—a pained grimace, as if she was experiencing all of humanity's greatest suffering. When you didn't reply but stayed observing her blankly, she sighed and hung her head in shame, you almost felt bad. Almost.

You extend a hand, twirling a strand of her hair—previously silky and vibrant, now as lifeless and dull as charred hay—and you feel her relax under your touch. You continue raking your fingers through her locks, scratching her scalp with your nails, and you hear her exhale forcefully. She's likely overwhelmed by your scent—it's invigorating, fresh, and full of life.

“Have you been good?” You pipe up with a voice colder than ice, softly caressing the flesh of her tense cheek, and letting your fingertips travel to the underside of her chin. You gently tilt her head up, noticing the way her eyelids flutter to a close. She's soaking up the heat radiating off of you, making sure to feel the sensations of your skin brush against hers as much as she can, commit them to memory for when she's apart from you.

Her lips part, allowing for hushed, woeful whimpers to pour out, and she instinctively bites her bottom lip to quiet herself. Only she forgets about the powerful daggers in her mouth, and almost pierces right through her own skin.

Taking notice, you tut at her, warning clicks of your tongue bouncing off the room’s walls, contrasting the dead of night’s eerie silence. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You push the pad of your thumb down on the plush of her lip, angling her jaw side to side, examining those killer gnashers she's got.

“You could hurt yourself with these y'know, be careful.” Her eyelids flicker open, she's staring up at you with the biggest doe eyes she could muster, somehow all while maintaining such a strong glare you feel as if she's trying to challenge you.

“I'll decide if you can have some, as long as you're good, and you let me have some fun first. Alright?” You explain in a neutral tone, earning a cute “mhm” of confirmation from the undead being before you. “Good girl.”

You slowly slip your thumb into her mouth, avoiding her fangs at all costs, and you let her wrap her slippery tongue around your digit, watching how her cheeks hollow and her eyes roll ever so slightly while she sucks, moaning as she takes in your taste—nothing more than just skin.

You chuckle at her desperation, revel in the power dynamic you have created. “Mmm, you taste so good, so sweet.” She mumbles, swirling her tongue around your thumb, coating the entirety of it in her spit. You allow it for now, but soon enough, to no surprise, she slyly tries to shift to the side in preparation to slice you and get her treat.

You sharply retract your hands from her, removing your finger from her mouth with a pop, disappointed by her greed, her audacity. She turns to the side and pouts, huffing and rolling her eyes with more attitude than a moody teen. “What did I say?” You calmly hiss at her. She whispers, almost inaudibly, “Sorry…taste so good, can't help m’self.” Her voice wavered, and the moonlight illuminated the faintest tinge of red across her features, it was nearly invisible.

But you could tell exactly what was up. She shifts uncomfortably in her spot, grunting with laughable, pitiful attempts to rub her thighs together, fingers toying with the cloth of her pants, putting her frustration on full display. You looked at her struggle, unable to contain your grin.

It was a different kind of high, seeing such a feared and fabled beast kneel before you in such a pathetic manner, but it turned you on like nothing else. It was also evident she enjoyed it as well, no matter how much she didn't want you to be aware of the fact. The extent to which she worships you and handles your body, the way she was willing to beg and let you order her around showed just how much you meant to her—it was beautiful in its own way, how devoted she was to you. You were her person.

The fact she couldn't stifle her desire anymore after all this time suggested a shift in the atmosphere of your wicked games, the tension in the air was getting impossibly thicker, and you were loving every second of it.

Ellie, you've got a short memory.” You tease, then gesture to the gauze wrapped around your forearm, protecting two puncture wounds left by none other than her just the previous night. She looks at it and cocks an eyebrow, grouching, “Yeah, I see that, what about it?” The husky edge to her voice had returned, the defiant attitude you loved to crack was back in full force.

“Hundreds of years old, you even have memories of wars, and you can't remember what happened, like, 24 hours ago? Wow…” Your voice is so patronizing, it's unpleasant and abrasive on the ears, even your own. She shrugs her shoulders, still kneeling on the cold, hard ground at your mercy. “Well let's have a refresher then, shall we?” Tearing the tan-colored bandage apart with a single rip, you reveal the puncture marks—they were still wet and irritated, the wounds reopening immediately at the slightest movement.

Ellie whines like an animal, a crude “ahh”, and she starts pleading harder than ever. “Please, baby, my pretty, my angel, please, please, pleasepleaseplease, just lemme have a drop, just one. That's all, I swear.” Her gaze darkens exponentially, if you didn't know her it would instill fear in your heart, but luckily you were well aware of all her tricks. She snarls, “Fuck you. I'm literally on my fucking knees right now. Why are you doing this?” Her voice breaks angrily, wobbling with great lust and need—the need to have you, the need to drink you and fondle you and taste you in all senses of the word, and at this point she didn't seem to care about preserving a morsel of her dignity, she was simply so drunk on you, you couldn't believe.

You reiterate the previously established explanation, “We have an agreement that says you're allowed to take my blood once a month, so you can have some more each time. Rather than taking a little bit but more often, you requested this yourself. And you already drank lots yesterday. Does that not ring a bell?”

She groans, a gravelly, guttural sound that had you coming back to your senses and realizing, this was technically, a monster who you loved so dearly.

It led you to wonder—to her kind, what was so special about the liquid coursing through your veins?

When you split your lip open as a kid, clumsily tumbling face-first onto the asphalt, or bit your tongue while eating something stubborn, the strange, metallic taste was purely disgusting. It had a certain heaviness to it, both physically with the way it sat in your mouth, but also mentally. Like a subconscious awareness you were not meant to consume it like she does, but to spit it out the millisecond it made contact with your taste buds. There were times where the thought made you queasy, the measly knowledge of just how much of this fluid was inside you, keeping you alive.

But to her, it was a completely different story. She lapped it up with such fervor, such thirst you've never seen before. A sloppy frenzy like there wasn't a single thing more delightfully flavorful.

Her teeth penetrating all the way through your epidermis, dermis, and hypodermis, and straight through the vein wall was a feeling you're likely never going to get used to. It stung, it really did, and you were quick to get all woozy from the blood volume loss, but Ellie knew your limits—even though hers were not even close. Her thirst was insatiable.

The intimacy of the act was a whole separate topic to think about too. It was such an erotic experience, and when probed about it she argues it's better than sex, somehow. When she drinks from you, Ellie is really messy with it, you noticed. Blood dribbles down her chin and stains her lips as if it's a designer lip oil, the distinct deep maroon color sometimes appearing clownish and too intense against her fair complexion.

She was really handsy as well, and you weren't sure if it was purposeful, but you didn't care to ask because you didn't really mind in the first place. It felt nice. Her muscular hands tend to trace your waist as she's suckling, hovering by your ass, and traveling north to knead the supple tissue of your breasts.

And how could you forget about the sheer proximity of it all, even when having sex normally, it didn't feel nearly as intimate or vulnerable as this. Her body would be tightly curled around yours, she couldn't bear to have one meager square inch of her not touching you.

When she drank from your neck, it was bordering on heavenly, you had to be honest with yourself. There was something about the combination of the light headed, dizzying feeling it brought you, her closeness, the licking sensations, and the hungry sounds she produced that all together mixed to form nothing short of a mind blowing, intoxicating concoction.

When you both were feeling it, she'd be able to draw breathy moans to fall from your lips, and would giggle into your skin before sucking harder, leaving bruised marks surrounding the punctures. You read in some folklore that vampires carried a sort of aphrodisiac in their fangs, or was it their saliva? Again, you didn't really know all the details, but the sessions made you both yearn for each other in a way that felt taboo to discuss—midnight feedings often turning into animalistic fucking, sometimes even simultaneously.

Like having Ellie latched onto the side of your neck while she grinds her dripping pussy onto yours, her pleasureful mewls filling your ears, or having her hold your wrist to her mouth while her other hand is pleasuring you into oblivion, prodding against your spongy walls, making your head spin.

The time you spent lost in thought, she had broken the rule of not touching you unless you said so, but all she had done was rest her head on your knee, zoning out, sulking like an injured puppy. Unfortunately for her, you weren't done torturing her just yet. You didn't move her off of you, she was just laying there, grumbling curses under her breath, saying how mean you were, how much she despised you and everything you stood for, although both of you knew the truth—she had said herself, “I've never tasted blood like yours,” and you felt intrinsically bound to her on a subconscious level, these were mere amusements you indulged in, that ended up beneficial for both.

She got her delicious elixir of life, at the cost of you having your way with her for a bit. You hear her sniffle, the little defenseless sound of defeat was able to break your act.

You resume stroking her hair, and she wraps trembling arms around your thigh. “Hmm?” You coo, putting on a sweet facade. “Don't talk to me like that, c'mon man.” She wails, the attempts to regain control over her voice proving unsuccessful.

You took your nails to the newly formed raspberry scabs on top of your bite wounds and picked them off, and she lunges to grab your arm with inhuman reflexes, but once again you emerge on top, having spent so much time memorizing every last one of her behavioral patterns, so much so you knew exactly how she was going to attempt catching you and moved out the way without thinking about it.

“Too slow, you've gotten predictable.” You ridicule her, embellishing your voice with the most fake, sickly sweet tone you could just to irritate her as much as you possibly could. Ellie lays her head on your thigh, sighing. It's like she's given everything up. Her own patience was running out, potentially entering unpredictable territory now.

You squeeze the sides of the hole in your skin to coax a bubble of bright red blood to ooze out, marveling, “It's such a nice color, I see why you like it so much.” You talk to her coolly, ignoring her tearful, yet terrifyingly rage-filled glares, her massive fangs bared as if you were a prey animal she caught herself and was preparing to rip apart.

“Want a taste, Ellie? Have you earned it?” You think out loud, comically tapping your chin to exaggerate the brainstorming act. “Whatever, it's not like I have anything left to say to you.” She sounded heartbroken, you've never seen someone have such sorrow, the sheer misery behind her eyes actually caught you off guard.

"Okay I think you have earned it, just need you to say one more thing.” She nods, a little too quickly, rushing to catch any tears that were planning an escape route down the sides of her pretty face. You cradle her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin, “Aw, baby, don't cry.” This time however, your tone is sincere.

She doesn't wait for your request, and starts all over again, this is getting old. “I promise everything. I'll make you feel so good, I'll give you whatever you want, please …you're too sweet.” She huffs, “Well, except when you're not.”

She continues mumbling, burying her face in the meat of your thigh, occasionally stopping to lovingly peck where she was laying, quiet smooching sounds. That really melted your heart, you were ready to give her what she needs after so much cruelty. This went on much longer than you had planned, but you were having fun with it. So you decided to abandon whatever you would ask of her. But could anyone blame you?

She slowly reaches for your wounded arm, gauging your reactions, like in the situation you were planning to do something to prevent her, but you come up with a better idea. “I'll do you one even better, Els.” The grin that envelops her face could light up a thousand suns, and melt the coldest of souls. Make vampire hunters quit their careers even, that's how adorable she could be, on the occasion.

You lean back to take your shirt off in one swift motion, and lay back on the edge of the bed, tilting your neck to give her access to the sweet pulsating spot, finding the droplet of drool that falls from her agape mouth utterly hilarious. “Go ahead, I've had my fun.” She hesitates. “But our agreement, I don't wanna hurt you.” “Ellie it's fine, unless you don't want t-” “No I do I do, oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so muchhhh.”

Her gratitude is silly, she's straddling you and kissing all over your neck, face, and collarbones with such care, and you inhale sharply once you feel the familiar sensation of her teeth piercing your sensitive skin.

She has one hand on the nape of your neck, holding you close to her so you couldn't move away, and the other one finds your fingers to intertwine with hers, loud gulping noises filling the room as she messily laps up all that flows from you.

Her bony hips are sat atop your pelvis, and soon enough you feel her start absentmindedly rocking back and forth on you, your breath hitching. You hold her waist to ground yourself, and aid her. She's whispering, mostly to herself, “Fuck that's so fucking good, needed this so bad, need you, fuck- shit. Ah, yes.”

The vertiginous feeling swirls in your head and you feel yourself fading, your grip on her sides loosening, but you don't feel one single ounce of panic, because you know she's got you. No matter what, until the end of time. Or at the very least, until the final bells tolled and you were lowered to your eternal resting place six feet underground.

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[kadwrites]

the color green | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; you've met tommy's secretary , who has a thing for him.

warnings ; mentions of death (no one dies), my bad writing?? probably typos, arranged marriage trope

a/n ; um idk what to think of this part but lmk what you think of it

-

he just looks back at you, his brow raised ,waiting for an explanation

"what?"

"what did ya say to 'er?"

"nothing, why ? what did she tell you?" you can't help the amused expression on your face, you did try to hold it back.

"she said you and polly cornered 'er"

"what" you let out a small laugh "all we did was speak to 'er, and it was mostly polly. she barely acknowledged me."

"really?"

"yes really."

"did ya tell 'er that we're engaged?" his voice was deep and cold. it sent a familiar chill down your spine.

"why ? did ya not want people to know?"

"answer the question"

"i didn't. polly did." you stare at him for a while, eyes tracing his face with a raised brow "are you fucking 'er?"

he blinks slowly, his demeanor doesn't change "i beg your fucking pardon?"

"ya heard me."

"no."

you study his face "we didn't say anything to 'er, polly asked 'er if she knew who i was, she looked me up and down like i was some whore and then almost cried when she found out you and i are engaged. thats it."

"we're not engaged yet."

"we are, according to your aunt. so if ya 'ave any fucking complaints , ya might want to take it up with 'er."

you try to walk past him, deciding that storming off is the best way out of this ,

"and how do ya think youre gettin' back home? polly is gone"

you freeze, stopping in place when you hear that, and he turns, just staring at your back.

"walking exists , ya know?" you turn as well to face him, you try to maintain the most confident expression you could muster

"you're gonna walk back? to your father's house? at this time?"

you just nod,

"no you're not"

"yes i am."

"no."

"why not?"

"what kind if fiancé would i be if i let ya walk home in the dark?." his voice is sarcastic

you just raise your brow again, "i thought we weren't engaged."

"go to my office, i'll drive ya home in a minute."

"ya don't 'ave to, i don't want your charity."

"go to my fucking office, y/n."

you mumble curses under your breath as you stride through and to his office, you open the glass door and plop down on the chair facing his desk. you can see the sectary's silhouette from the corner of your eyes. she's sitting on a desk outside his office and you walked by without sparing her a glance. you can feel her stare burn through you.

the door opens again and he walks in, and sits on his desk

"are we goin' to stay here long? cause i can call oliver to come and get me."

he looked up from the papers he was holding and his stare made you look away. okay maybe you'll let him drive you home.

the secretary knocks and walks in "i just need your signature on this form sir." she walks to his desk and gets as close as appropriately possible.

" y've met my fiancée then, miss carter?" he asks the secretary without looking at her

"i.." she stands straight and glances at you "i did , yes i did."

he looks up at her briefly "she might be comin' here more often now, so please make 'er feel at home whenever im not around."

"of course, sir." she smiles sweetly at him before grabbing the paper and walking out of the office.

you raise your brows, a small smirk on your lips "oh im your fiancée now , aye?"

he doesn't answer you, but you see the corners of his lips curl.

you stifle back a yawn as you sit on the sofa , trying to not to nod off. its the middle of the night and your brother had woken you up. safe to say tonight was not a night you've expected and its yet to end.

"how did ya even know about this?" you nod towards abraham who had a cup of tea in his hand

"mum called" he muttered as he handed you a cup as well

"its just a cold , ya know that? , ya didn't 'ave to leave anna and come all the way here."

"it's dad, i couldn't just sleep after 'earing mum cry about 'im"

"she cries about everything" you say with a sigh as you take a sip of your tea

the living room as dark except for a small lamp that was next to you

"did she call celest and oliver?"

"i think so, but they'll probably come by in the mornin'."

you hear your mothers sniffles as she leaves her and your father's bedroom.

"hes asking for you."

you and abraham look at each other before you put your tea cup down and get up from the sofa.

"come in"

you walk in and close the door behind you gently. your dad is propped up with a pillow behind him, you approach the bed and get on it, laying next to him

"ya better not give me another one of your speeches dad." you feign annoyance but your smile gives you away.

he lets out a laugh then turns to you "i'm an old man ya know, i 'ave to make sure i say everything i need to say before i leave ya."

"y've got a cold dad, its not the plaque " you chuckle as you turn to look at him too.

when you were a child, your father would never sleep if you got sick, he would stay up. sometimes fall asleep beside you, or on the uncomfortable hard wooden chair he'd drag next to your bed.

he would put his head on your heart sometimes late at night anxiously, scared it might've stopped when he accidentally drifted off to sleep.

"listen to me love..." his hands intertwine with yours, his hands calloused from all the days he's spent caring for the soil, or in the war that you never thought would end. "i need to talk about this."

you hum, your hand holding his tightly in yours.

"i'm sorry it had to come to this my love,"

its not another one of his speeches, its a different kind of speech.

"dad..."

"when your mother first told me about this, i thought she was jokin, honest to god" he lets out another laugh "but now..... when i think about it , i cant let ya do that to yerself love..." he shakes his head slightly,

"what?" your eyes look up at him, taking in his features , his dark under eyes, the lines on his face, around his eyes.

"i saved some money yeah? , for when me and your mother might need it. ya can 'ave it." his voice drops to a lower tone

"and do what ?"

"run away."

"run away?" you laugh softly, looking at him with a raised brow "and go where?"

"where ever you want." he smiles softly at you

"you're not serious."

"i am"

you stay silent for a while, processing what he's saying "im not runnin' away dad."

"so you're gonna marry tommy shelby? is that what ya want ? what ya truly want?"

"its what i need to do"

"ya don't"

"so you're gonna go back on your word ,aye? ya gave the man a word after all"

"for you , id break every promise ive ever made."

"dad..." you let out a small smile , his other hand goes to cup your face "i cant do that"

"are ya scared id hate ya? or that id be angry at ya if ya didn't?"

"i cant runaway dad... i cant leave ya" your emotions betray you and they flood through you, your tears start to drop. i cant not be here when you die, when you're buried.

"sometimes i cant believe you're all grown up now,"

"hmm"

"ya were such a lively child"

"you're sayin' im borin' now aye?"

you two share a small laugh, you turn your face and kiss his palm, before closing your eyes "id put myself through anything and everything to keep ya with me for however long i can."

-

@tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited

[darby-rowe]

maybe could we do a sub!coryo getting pegged by dom!reader and shes going super hard on him like spanking him,grabbing his hair and pulling him back against her cock? could we add some mommy kink in there too 🤭🤭

im so sorry i keep leaving my asks in the dust akskfks i write so slow im so sorry 😩

but anon this is such a hot idea. as a society we need to acknowledge the fact that coryo more than likely has a mommy kink

18+ | nsfw | mdni

cw mommy kink

coryo has a major attitude problem due to his unresolved trauma, and a common outlet he uses to vent his frustrations and express his emotions is letting you fuck the absolute shit out of him.

you can't recall how it happened the first time, but after coryo finally let you peg him, cooing in his face and calling him a good boy, he became obsessed with your silicone dick. and now you use this newfound kink as a way to 'tame' him when he's being exceptionally bratty.

you'd go out shopping in public, and you'd have to withstand coryo's complaining on how hot/cold it is outside, or how it's too crowded, or blah blah blah, etc. and by god did it get on your last nerve. was there anything in this world that coryo didn't complain about?

the last straw came and went whenever you wanted to try on a few dresses and coryo just let out the bitchiest sigh you ever heard. he didn't even say anything, and yet it made your blood absolutely boil.

so now fast forward and you have coryo on his knees in between your legs as you fuck his throat with your strap, watching his pretty blue eyes well up with tears as he gargles and gags on your silicone cock.

"that's it, baby," you purr, tangling your fingers in his soft blonde curls and guiding him back and forth on your dick. "such a nice little cocksucker, aren't ya? i guess those pretty lips are good for something else other than being a fucking brat,"

you softly wipe his tears away before plunging your cock down his throat, groaning at how hard he grips your thighs before letting him come up for air. and those wet baby blues of his never fail to get you going.

“say you love sucking my cock, brat,” you command, gripping tightly onto his hair. the whimper that emits from his throat has your knees feeling like water.

“i love…” he pants, gulping down saliva. “i love sucking your cock, mommy,”

absolutely delicious.

and one thing about coryo is that he is loud; especially when you have your cock balls-deep inside his ass, pulling him back by the hair and thrusting with everything you have. your pelvis smacks against the flesh of his ass, and he is nearly in tears from how rough you are. but it feels so, so good.

“mommy, please,” coryo babbles incoherently how good your cock feels inside him, or how you’re being too rough. his whimpers and mewls sound so fucking good coming from his swollen, spit-covered lips. “please, slow down. you’re so big. so deep. i can’t take it, mommy,”

“no, baby, you’re gonna take this cock like a good boy,” you pant, planting a hard smack! against the pale flesh of coryo’s ass. he lets out another whimper. “if you want me to slow down and be nicer, you’re gonna have to learn to not be such a fucking pompous brat. in the meantime, you’re gonna take my cock, and you’re gonna cum as many times as i see fit,”

and so you proceed to fuck him until he’s so dumb and blissed out that you can barely understand a word he’s saying — until he’s only repeating, “mommy, i can’t stop cumming”, and “my ass feels so good”, and “thank you, mommy”.

at the end of the night, you of course bring him the absolute best aftercare you can muster. you run him a bath, give him sweet kisses all over his pretty, tear-stained face, and make sure you tell him how much you really love him.

[lifeisabiscuit]

It will never not bother me how people are like Elain doesn't owe Lucien anything, she doesn't want him, he should take a hint, leave her alone and stop stalking her (even though he moved to the human lands and only comes when requested and doesnt even see her everytime hes there or at solstice where he kindly brings gifts for her and Feyre and she barely acknowledges it. Like, no girl the gifts don't make him entitled to your affections but aren't you supposed to be the kind sister? He hasn't done anything wrong). Even in canon, Feyre barely tries to meddle in their relationship (or lack thereof) and even questions why not give Elain and Azriel a bond instead. They never clear up that he was not the reason they were taken (and neither was Tamlin but of course they would let them keep blaming him instead of taking responsibility for their part), they just dangle her in front of him to make him compliant and keep doing things for them (sounds a lot like what they did to his brother with Nesta).

But then, when Nesta clearly makes it known she wants nothing to do with Cassian (like Elain has about Lucien), they let him follow her around and lock her in a house with him. Don't even get me started on the bonus chapter where he cornered a human woman and asked about her virginity. No matter what Nesta wanted, Cassian wanted Nesta so they had to be together, ignoring every thing she's said and every sign she's made that she wanted him to leave her alone. No, let's lock them up together instead and force proximity. I don't care if deep deep down she wanted him too, she told him to leave her alone. He found glee in locking her up with him where she could not go anywhere without him. And so many people think this is romantic and goals? They think Nesta deserved to have her wants ignored because Cassian wanted her.

I don't believe the problem was that Nesta was sleeping around, but because she wasn't sleeping with Cassian and he was throwing a pity party. Because as soon as she started sleeping with him even though that was another of her vices, all of a sudden no one had an issue with it.

Like, it seems like just another way to punish Lucien for 'not helping Feyre' against a high lord (something everyone excuses Cassian from because Rhys is his high lord) and punish Nesta for being a child "letting" her sister hunt (even though Feyre made her mom a promise and was never going to listen to Nesta whether she told her not to anyways).

Cassian didn't even really want Nesta more than physically, they had to break her to make her more what he wanted and then he never even said he loved her. He wanted a mate, Nesta wanted Cassian. And the thing is, I don't even have a preferred Elain ship, I just want Lucien to stop being toyed with. But I don't think Lucien even wants a mate, so I could see him actually falling for Elain for who she is, not just her beauty. If anyone would give him a chance. Like, even if she still wants to break the bond, at least talk to him.

I dunno, The double standard between how people treat the sisters is annoying.

[cowgurrrl]

You're My Only Hope for Heaven

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: oh bitch I'm having a fucking blast with this dynamic the slow burn is slow burning

Summary: An unlikely patron saunters into your bar [3.5k]

Warnings: one (1) creepy guy, one (1) fake marriage, lots of flirting that’s not flirting but it’s not not flirting, one (1) kiss

You try not to make it a habit of picking up bar shifts during the week. Not only is it almost always slow, and you barely make any money, but it's hard to go from teaching for eight hours directly to another job. You'd much rather be at home, grading or doing something for yourself for the first time in weeks. But you couldn't say no when Katie called you, almost in tears, begging you to take her shift so she could deal with a burst pipe in her house. You don't regret doing her a favor, but you do regret other things as you stand behind the mostly empty bar as whatever game is happening plays on the screen above your head. You think it's a UT game. Or maybe A&M. Or any of the other SEC Texas schools with an absurd football budget. 

You're basically yawning your way through your shift and working through your newest painting in your head, trying and failing to not think about school until absolutely necessary. Principal Martinez is cracking down on the stupid minutiae the school board demands of its teachers, and you spent most of your afternoon writing student objectives on the board. On top of that, your art club kids have been begging you to plan a field trip to the local art museum for weeks. You finally relented, but the paperwork is mind-numbing and requires much more work than you thought. Between working, making art, and trying to live your life, you barely have time. 

Another reason you hate working weekdays is the creepy regulars. Normally, you can ignore them on a busy Saturday night, but it's harder when it's as dead as it is. You have no idea how Katie deals with them on a regular basis. It started with a guy at the bar, you think his name is Steve, asking you progressively invasive questions. "How old are you?" "You gotta boyfriend?" "What time do you get off?" One right after each other, even after you made it clear you're not interested. Fake laughing and making excuses to run to the back or change a keg don't throw him off. 

"Keep it up, and I'll cut you off." You finally threaten after he asks you why you're being a bitch. You roll your eyes when the bell above the door rings, probably admitting yet another asshole who's gonna make your night hell. When you turn toward the door, the words leave you before you can stop them. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"Now, is that any way to greet your customers?" Joel chuckles, and you sigh as he sits down in front of you. Thankfully, his brother is not in tow, and you can save yourself a little embarrassment. "I didn't know you worked here."

"I don't," you say. "Whatcha drinkin'?" 

"Looks like you're workin' to me." He smirks and you shoot him a look.

"You wanna free drink or not?" 

"Shiner," he answers quickly. You hum in acknowledgment, not even bothering with the POS system and going right to the fridge to pull a bottle out for him. You pop the cap off and place a napkin under the beer before sliding it to him. "Are you bribin' me?"

"You've gotta be faster with your questions, Miller. You've already accepted it. Might as well enjoy." You say, and he laughs. 

"Well, alright, then," he says, raising his beer to you before taking a quick sip. "So, what's this, then? You moonlightin' as a bartender?" He asks, and you fight yourself on how to answer. What if word gets back to parents? Administration? They couldn't reprimand you for that, right? You know plenty of other teachers with second jobs, so it can't be that taboo. Still, you're hesitant to open up to Joel. Out of all the people who could've walked into your bar tonight, it had to be him.

"Something like that." You settle on, wiping a sticky spot on the bar to avoid his gaze. If he feels anything negative about you having a second job, his face doesn't show it. He has a soft smile on his lips and a slight sunburn across his nose, highlighting the freckles living there that previously went unnoticed. You want to tease him about not wearing sunscreen, but the joke dies in your throat when he rests his elbows on your bar, showing off those stupid biceps you can't not look at. He catches your eyes lingering near the short sleeve of his shirt and opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but a grating voice from the other side of the bar cuts him off.

"Excuse me, sweetheart! You've got other patrons over here!" Steve yells, and you feel your eye twitch at his attitude. Joel notices.

"What's wrong with him?" He asks quietly, leaning forward over the bar to get closer to you. Looking into his brown eyes and confused expression, an idea forms.

"Pretend you know me." You say, and his eyebrows knit together, every emotion visible on his face. 

"I do know you."

"No, I mean," you sigh. "That guy over there is a regular on Wednesdays, and the girl who usually works is married, so he doesn't try anything with her, but I won't give him my number, and he's making me fucking miserable. So, just... pretend to know me." Joel is bigger than Steve. Much bigger. Probably a whole head taller and much broader than the man on the other side of the bar. One word from Joel, and he might actually shut up or, better yet, leave altogether so you can finish your day without any more hiccups.

"Okay," Joel agrees, and you reflexively reach out to touch his thick forearm and squeeze. You don't even realize you did it until he smiles like he won a staring contest or something.

"Thank you," you say before turning and bracing yourself to deal with Steve. "What can I do for you, sir?" You ask, but before you can even finish your sentence, he holds up his empty beer bottle and waves it in front of your face like you're stupid. 

"Another beer." He says, and you bite your tongue. 

"You got it."

"Finally," he groans. "You'd think for such an easy fuckin' job, you'd be better at it." 

"What the fuck is your problem?" You ask, refusing to move from your spot to get him his beer, and he scoffs.

"My problem is that you're bein' a fuckin' bitch and ignorin' me when I didn't do nothin' wrong." He's slurring his words together at this point, and you wordlessly go to the POS system to close his tab and send him on his way. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" He yells after you.

"Hey, man, why don't you leave her alone? She's just tryna do her job." Joel speaks up from the other side of the bar, and Steve straightens up in his seat as he assesses Joel. 

"This isn't any of your fuckin' business. Stay out of it."

"It's my business now. That's no way to speak to a lady. I think you owe her a mighty big apology." 

"I don't owe her shit," he spits, and you look over to see Joel setting his jaw and squaring his shoulders. "Why's this even matter to you, big shot?"

"That's my fuckin' wife you're mouthin' off to," Joel says without hesitation, and you quickly school your expression. Wife? You asked him to play along, but you didn't think he'd say that. "So, if you wanna keep the rest of your teeth, I suggest you apologize to her, leave her a nice, big tip for dealin' with your sorry ass, and get yourself a ride home." 

Steve is silent as you take the empty bottle away from him— just in case things get really ugly— and slide him his card and bill. He eyes Joel carefully for a few tense seconds before picking up a pen, signing his check, and leaving without another word. The second he's out the door, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders and sigh at the relief. You scrub a hand down your face and look over at Joel.

"You okay?" He asks gently like you're a spooked horse, and you nod. You take a few minutes to get yourself together, putting in Steve's 30% tip and cleaning off the empty bar before returning to Joel. "What?" He asks when he catches you smirking.

"At least buy a girl dinner before you call me your wife." You say, and he laughs, shaking his head. 

"You said the other girl is married. I just took it and ran," he says. "And I already tried to take you to dinner, but somebody said no." 

"School regulation says it's unethical." 

"Well, we're not at school now, and you're certainly not a teacher right now." He says smoothly, vaguely gesturing to your all-black outfit, and you give him a look. "What time d'you get off?"

"You're gonna get me in trouble." You whisper, and he leans forward across the bar. 

"All I did was ask you a question." He whispers back, playfully mocking you. It could be the smile on his face, the relaxed humor behind his eyes, or the fact that he stood up for you because you asked him to, but you glance between him and the clock and take a deep breath. 

"I get off at 12. Unless it stays dead like this, then I'm closing early," you say, and his smile grows. "But this is not a date." 

"'Course not." He chuckles, and you raise your eyebrows at him. 

"I'm serious. I need you to say it's not a date, so I know you won't come after me if your kid fails my class." 

"Is my kid failing your class?"

"No, she's amazing. But for my own mental well-being, I need you to say that this is not a date." You say, and he grabs your wrist to stop your anxious wringing. 

"Let me buy you a drink. That's it. Nothin' more," he says, squeezing you. "This ain't a date." 

"Thank you." You sigh, and he nods. 

You spend an hour or two idling between conversations with Joel and trying to look busy for any manager who might care enough to check the cameras. You're pretty much done with all your closing duties by 10:00, and you wait until it's been a full hour since anyone else came in to flip the closed sign and do a few last-minute things. When the bar is completely clean, empty, and ready for the next shift, you slink back behind it to make yourself and Joel a drink before sitting beside him. 

"You feelin' proud of yourself for getting us here?" You ask as you clink your glass against his and take a sip. 

"Yeah, I've got the prettiest girl in the whole place sittin' by me," he says, and before you can even scold him, he throws his hands up. "Not a date." 

"Not a date." You repeat.

"Still true, though."

"Don't make me regret saying yes to you, Mr. Miller." You say, and he gives you a look. You like teasing him, especially since you can always see exactly how he's feeling. He's not particularly subtle, contrary to what you're sure others think about him. 

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Joel?" 

"As many times as it takes, I guess," you shrug. "You also clearly have an aversion to being called Mr. Miller."

"My dad was Mr. Miller." He says, and you roll your eyes, groaning and half-folding in on yourself dramatically. 

"Oh, my God, do you know how many men have said that to me since I've become a teacher?"

"Well, it's true!" He says. "Are you sayin' other people are tryna tell my wife to call ‘em by their first names?" He asks, and you laugh. 

"Believe it or not, you're not the first single parent to ask me out." 

"Am I the first one you said yes to?" 

"So far." 

"So far?" He asks, raising his eyebrows, and you hum. "I'll take it." 

Unsurprisingly, Joel is really easy to talk to. He asks questions about your life outside of work, where you went to school, and what made you want to be a teacher. You ask him about his job and family and, somehow, end up talking about the latest cheesy action film he's seen. When both your drinks are empty, the glasses sit there, the ice slowly melting as you talk into the night. Every time a hint of anxiety creeps up your spine, he makes you laugh or tells you an interesting story from his past and distracts you from it. You lose hours sitting there, and you don't even realize it until your phone pings you with a reminder, and you suddenly see it's past midnight.

"Oh, shit," you mumble, showing Joel the time. "I gotta lock up."

"And you have school tomorrow." He says, and you groan as you stand and grab your glasses. 

"Don't remind me. I've got like five million things waiting to get done there." You say. He watches you step behind the bar, leave them in the sink for the opener to find, and no doubt send a catty message in the group chat asking who closed the night before. His eyes don't leave you even when you reach up and grab your bag, your sleeve falling down just enough to reveal a nasty bruise.

"Woah, that looks like it hurt," he says, gesturing to your arm. "How'd you get that?"

"Promise you won't laugh." Your response does nothing to clear up his confusion, but he raises his right hand and makes a cross over his heart.

"I promise." His tone is gentle and even, but you're still hesitant to actually admit it.

"I fell off a table." 

"I told you!"

"Hey!" You scold. "You promised you'd be cool about it!"

"I promised not to laugh." He says, and you roll your eyes. "They still haven't come to fix it for ya?"

"Would I be climbing on tables if they did?"

"Fair enough," he shrugs. You find the bar keys at the bottom of your purse and walk over to where he's still sitting, your hand resting on the back of your chair. He shifts forward until he can catch the edge of your sleeve and roll it up to see the bruise in all her glory. His fingers are warm, and his touch light as he traces the edge of it, not firm enough to make it ache but enough that you feel the pads of his fingers. You freeze like your stillness will be enough for the feather-light touches to continue, your eyes meeting for a split second. He clears his throat and rolls your sleeve back down for you, drawing his hand back. "Tell you what," he says. "I gotta buddy who gets me a good deal on some spare parts. Let me see if I can track down the part you need, and I'll come fix it myself. Free of charge."

"You don't have to do that." 

"And let my wife fall off tables?" He asks, a smirk pulling on his lips, and you shake your head. "It's the least I can do for the free drinks and, ya know, teachin' my kid." 

"Fine, but don't make it a thing. The maintenance people already don't like me. I can't imagine seeking outside help will make them like me." 

"I won't make it a thing," he promises, leaning back in his chair as his eyes travel up and down your body. He sighs heavily and sucks his teeth like you're suddenly too much, and you smile. "It's a damn shame this wasn't a date."

"What'd you do if it was?" The question borders on dangerous, but you can't take it back now that you've said it. It seems to have piqued Joel's interest, too, because he raises his eyebrows at you.

"You really wanna know?" He asks, and you nod.

"I really wanna know," you say. "How does Joel Miller end a successful date?" He gets a little bashful at the question, a blush creeping up his neck, and you knock his knee with yours to get his attention. "C'mon, don't get shy on me now."

"Alright, alright," he grumbles. "If this were a date, and we were gettin' ready to go out separate ways, I'd walk you out to your car, open the door for ya 'cause a lady should never open her own doors," his voice is slow and low, and he watches your face as he speaks. "And I'd kiss you. Nice and slow so I don't scare ya off or anythin'. I might put a hand on your waist or bite that pretty lip or somethin'. And right when I can feel you wantin' a little more, gettin' a little desperate, I'd stop, say goodnight, and walk back to my truck." His words have a devastating effect on you, and you can't look away from him. The heat rolling off him in waves makes you too warm and flustered. His gaze flicks from your eyes to your lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip, and you have half a mind to think he's looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You have half a mind to let him. 

"You're right," you finally breathe. "It's a shame this isn't a date." He nods and stands, his broad chest grazing yours as you look up at him. You're not a science teacher by any means. If you were, you might be able to explain the magnetism you feel toward Joel or what stupid chemical in your brain makes you wonder what tricks he keeps up his sleeve. But you're not. You're an art teacher. So, the only thing you can focus on is the deep brown of his irises and the heavy lashes and crow's feet that frame his eyes. And the swoop of his salt and pepper curls, the tint of his slightly pink forehead and strong nose. You want to capture his image in the dim lighting of the bar, but you settle for committing it to memory to scribble in the margins of your notebook for the rest of the week. Why couldn't you have been a science teacher?

Neither of you says anything as he finally steps away, giving you the space to turn off the last of the bar lights and push through the haze he created in your mind. He lingers by the door and opens it for you when you go to the front and step into the humid Austin night. You lock the doors and give him a small smile when you turn around to see him rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

Then, just as he said, he walks you to your car and opens the driver's side door for you. His truck, the only other car in the parking lot, is parked a few spaces away from yours. It would've been so much easier to just ignore you, get in his car, and drive away, but here he is, being the gentleman he's always been toward you. You step into the space created by the open door and throw your bag in the passenger seat, but don't get in the car. Not yet. He sighs heavily, like he's in physical pain, when you meet his eyes again, and his hand flexes around the edge of your car door. 

"Thanks for my not date." You mumble, and he nods. You're close (and weak) enough that brushing his lips would just take a strong breeze. It freaks you out how okay you are with the idea of "accidentally" kissing Joel Miller. You should be panicking. Alarm bells should be sounding in your head, but the only thing filling the cavernous space is the echo of his voice explaining what he'd do if this were a date. Idiot.

He leans on your door a little more, and your heart quickens, thinking he might actually be the one to make the move. His head ducks just a little, and you get a strong whiff of his cologne, your eyes fluttering shut at the scent. Your throat is suddenly dry, and you're all but pushing up on your toes when he swerves past your lips and presses a chaste, firm kiss to your cheek. His beard scratches your soft skin pleasantly, and you keep your eyes closed until he pulls away, looking like he just won a prize.

"Get home safe." He says as he steps back, still holding your door open. You sigh and fight a smile as you look at him— cocky, vindicated, and knowing exactly what he just did. 

"Goodnight, Joel." You manage to get out before sitting down and letting him gently shut the door for you. You wait until he gets in his truck to roll your window down and shout his name until he does the same. "I'm gonna get you back for that."

"Oh, I'm countin' on it, darlin'."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3

[bagdaddyb]

Hi!! Oh my gosh seeing you posting again was such a huge joy and surprise for me I’m so glad to read your new work!!!

I was wondering if you could write a wanda maximoff x fem!reader ABO fic where either Wanda or reader are new to the team with a whole bunch of pining where they eventually figure out that they are each others mate? You can make either Wanda or reader alpha/omega!

It’s super okay if you aren’t feeling this request, either way I’m so excited to read more of the amazing work you share with us!!!

Hiiiii! So I got super carried away with this and I originally intended for this to be mean emo Wanda but sweet soft Wanda took over, I hope you enjoy! 💗

Pairing: alphag!p Wanda x omega fem! spyReader

Warning: Sickeningly Sweet, 18+ MINOR DNI NSFW NSFW

AN: Wanda 🥰

You'd only been on the team for a year when the mess with Ultron happened. It all happened so fast, you could barely process everything happening around you before something new would arise. Sitting across from Natasha sipping coffee as you spied on the twin alphas you felt the most relaxed you had in weeks. Natasha kept glancing their way while your focus stayed on her, two people staring was more suspicious than one. You and the red head proved to be a good team over the past year. Two omega spies flying under everyones radar. The world still assumed the Black Widow a one woman show and no one would ever believe her to be an omega. The breeze felt nice on your back, bringing a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear before looking down at your coffee.

"This has been a real shit show eh?"

Your voice held a familiar accent one you'd grown used to using under your many aliases. Natasha's eyes returned to you as she sipped her own drink.

"Not anymore than usual."

You hummed in response eyes wondering to the innocent civilians around you. Sipping your own cup you wonder if life would be better among them. Oblivious to the realities of the world to caught up in your own day to day menial task. The weight of this job seemed to weigh a bit heavier on your shoulders everyday, the question of wether the people you save amounts to the people you don't plaguing.

"S toboy vse v poryadke?" (Are you alright?)

The red head ask and you nod eyes returning to hers.

"Tired, it seems everytime we try to relax something detrimental in the world happens. I wonder what it would do without us."

A small chuckle escapes Natasha despite the truth in your words, her eyes shooting to the pair on her right once more. Though not a 'graduate' of the red room you hold your own tramatic story. Experimented on in the basement of Oscorp for years you'd been turned into a lab rat by the corpo bastards that owned the building. You'd escaped only three years ago, changed. Transformed into a human machiene, non-aging, ridiculously strong with a sirens song. You did the only thing you could and played the cards you were delt. Seducing mediocre alphas out of millions before any one even got a whiff of your existence but you could truly only thank Natasha for that. It wasn't until Natasha was taken down but the Black Widow kept striking that shield realized there was more than met the eye. It was Tony himself that went undercover to catch you and honestly had he not been an Avenger with intel he would of ended up caught himself. Another rich egotistical alpha who thought himself on top of the world. You didn't go down easy and spent a week in a cell before even uttering a word. In retrospect it all seems silly now you often think about how much time you wasted fighting the people who wanted nothing more than to help you. Eyes lifting to Natasha's face you can't help but feel greatful for the opportunity she's given you to help others like you.

"They're on the move."

You hum in acknowledgment before finishing off your drink mind finally wondering to the matter at hand. Your mission was recruitment nothing more. Ultron having been made unreasonably strong by the twins he somehow came to be in alliance with. You'd gained enough information merely listening in on their conversation, so you and Natasha retreated returning to the group in order to solidify your advances. Standing in time with Natasha you link your arm in hers smiling before chatting away about absolutely nothing in russian. Missing the way a certain alpha glanced your way when your scent drifted down wind. It only took twenty four hours for everything to go to shit almost a record breaker in your books. Ultron whineded up to be nothing after the male alpha was nere fatally injured the red headed woman taking care of him like clockwork. Luckily your team stood nearby able to quickly extract the alpha towards safety and medical attention. You worked efficiently getting him secured before moving to help the rest of your team fight off Ultron's bots and it isn't until the end when you stand with the support of Thor that you realize the red headed alpha had come with you. Returning to the compound there is tension on the quinjet. The group unsure what to do with the twin alphas who quite literally just tried to murder them and it causes you to roll your eyes.

"You could at least not talk about them as if they aren't right there."

You scold before moving towards the pair. The red head having been unmoving crouched over her unconscious brother.

"Privet." (Hello.)

You say making yourself known as you approach the alpha causing her to glance up at you.

"On dolzhen polnost'yu vyzdorovet'." (He should make a full recovery.)

You speak in a whisper trying to be soft.

"YA uveren, chto on ne khotel by, chtoby vy bespokoilis'." (I'm sure he wouldn't want you to worry.)

The woman merely returns her eyes to the unconscious man below her.

"Will you lock us up? Treat us once again like dogs?"

Your eyebrows raise and your posture straightens.

"No of course not, everyone deserves a second chance. You believed you were fighting for the right thing, there are many on this team who have been in a similar circumstance. Do not believe simply because we are labeled supergeroi that none of us have a dark past." (Superheroes)

With that you take your leave allowing the woman to be with her loved one. Upon returning to the compound you go into seclusion, you needed a break both mentally and physically. Just a few days where the world wasn't ending and it was entirely up to you to save it. Six days later you emerge slightly re-energized and fresh ready for the next catastrophe. The first place you visit is the gym already hearing Natasha's scolding on breaking your routine as you pass the common room you see the two twins on the couch alone. In this light you see them both clearly, while they hold the title twin they couldn't look more different. You study them both your eyes lingering on the red head. She was an attractive alpha, very attractive. You hear the tv playing but don't recognize the program they have on. Detouring into the room you catch their attention waving as you approach.

"Hello, I am rather embarrassed to say we never formally met. I am (Y/N) nice to meet you both."

You bow your head in greeting sending them a bright smile and both of them seem to freeze obviously caught off guard by your friendly approach. The male recovers first standing up before bowing his head back and sticking out his hand.

"Pietro, and that is my sestra Wanda."

You recognize his accent reaching to grip his hand in yours.

"A pleasure, I hope you two are adjusting well."

It isn't until then his sister jumps up a slight flush on her cheeks.

"It has been familiar, we are rather alienated but that is how it has always been."

You hum in response fighting back the disappointment in your expression.

"Don't fret, we are a group of antisocial extroverts forced to be in a group setting. Well expect for Tony but it just takes us all time to engage and meet new people, they will come around before long."

You finish with a smile.

"Have you two at least been taken care of? Food, water, lodging?"

They nod simultaneously and its enough for you.

"Good well I'm off to the gym, don't be strangers."

With that you leave not taking note of the full face flush on the woman's face.

"Kto-nibud' nashel svoyu sestru-omegu?" (Has someone found their omega sister?)

Pietro says in a teasing tone and Wanda punches him in the shoulder muttering at him to shut up. The moment you cross the threshold of the gym you flinch.

"Nu posmotrite, kto eto." (Well look who it is.)

"Can we skip past the part where you scold me so I can just apologize?"

You ask turning to meet Natasha's sharp gaze.

"Will your muscles magically regain their mass?"

"No."

You sigh accepting your defeat beginning to stretch as Natasha begins her speech on commitment. It is another four days before everyone finally comes around to the twins slotting them in as if theyed been there since the beginning just as they had you. Walking towards the gym you release a content sigh, a full ten days since the world seemed as though it'd collapse. What bliss. Quickly looking up your eyes fantically search for some wood unwilling to risk jinxing yourself.

"Dobroye utro." (Good morning.")

You hear from behind turning to be greeted by Wanda.

"Good morning indeed. Off for your morning cuppa are you?"

You ask and Wanda merely nods in response fighting back a yawn.

"Not a morning person?"

You ask with a smile walking beside Wanda.

"Not at all."

She says somewhat grumpily.

"Then what are you doing up at six a.m?"

You ask with a laugh and Wanda has to fight back a blush. She couldn't admit that she woke up at this time merely to see you every morning but what could she say.

"I like to cook but I'm not very good at it.... so I practice early before the others wake up."

The words spill out of her mouth quickly unable to think of anything better and you beam your white smile at her.

"Well how about tomorrow you sleep in till eight then I can help you learn, I am an amazing cook. I even know how to make some traditional dishes."

Wanda can't help the flush that comes to her face this time and it makes you feel a tingle inside.

"Okay."

The red head responds and you nod giving her arm a little reassuring squeeze as you come upon the kitchen.

"Good luck dorogoy." (Dear)

You say before continuing onto the gym and Wanda is sure her face matches her hair. Sure enough the next morning Wanda doesn't head towards the kitchen instead she spends the morning pacing her room anxiety ridden. You'd said for her to sleep in but how could she when you agreed to spend alone time with her. She couldn't tell Pietro and deal with his repeated teasing so she kept the information in slowly but surely having a meltdown. As she paced she played with her hair, bit her finger, twiddled her thumbs. God she couldn't do this. She'd literally been an experiment for Hydra and never felt this nervous in her life. The time passed quickly. To quickly. Right as she truly began to spiral there was a knock at her door, eyes shooting to the clock she realizes its already eight o'clock. Brushing off her clothes quickly before taking a few deep breaths and recuperating she opens her door. The moment her eyes land on you it all seems for naught, your hair is tied back. You wear tights and a tshirt covered by an apron. Your eyes spakle matched by your bright smile and Wanda feels herself melt a bit.

"I figured you'd meet me in the kukhnya." (Kitchen)

You say with a giggle and Wanda becomes a tomato realizing its not only eight but eight eleven.

"I'm sorry I slept in and lost all track of time."

You hum with a smile clearly not mad at all before turning to be on your way.

"All is fine I just didn't want to start without you."

Wanda follows behind you closing her door quickly. Her eyes wonder your body not being able to help staring at your ass.

"Ty slushayesh'?" (Are you listening?)

Wanda's eyes shoot up attention back on your voice.

"I asked what your favorite dish is."

"Oh um I love traditional pirozhki, my mother used to make them just slightly burnt at the edges. The taste reminds me of home."

You turn and smile softly her way.

"Perfect then that's what we will make, cooking can seem overwhelming but it isn't as scary as many think. I always recommend learning to cook for yourself first because it is much easier than cooking for others."

In the kitchen you gather the suppiles, you cooked often so the ingredients for this dish were easily found.

"I'll have you make the dough, it is all simply measurements so I'll do no more than verbal instructions."

You say as you prepare the area for Wanda.

"Here put this on, gotta protect your clothes and tie your hair back no one wants hair in their food."

Handing the apron to Wanda while standing by waiting. You bite your lip as you watch her. Running her fingers through silky red locks before pulling it up exposing her neck to you. She wore grey sweatpants and a baggy t. The sweatpants doing little to hide the member between her legs and you press your thighs together pleasurably. Wanda on the other hand was trying to think about how to see this lie through. She was an amazing cook, taking the responsibility of her brother from a young age. How was she going to play clueless. She should of at least said a dish she truly wasn't aware of how to make but when you asked her favortie food she couldn't help but answer honestly. You talked Wanda through the steps praising her for being a natural when the dough came out well. Leaving it to make the filling.

"What did your mom fill hers with? I do a simple meat and rice mixture since it goes along with my bulk."

Wanda nods along as she listens debating a moment before responding.

"Lets make them like yours, I've never had them any other way and I'd be eager to try."

You smile brightly at the alpha before nodding in response. Again you talk her through it always believing hands on with clear instruction was the best way to learn any skill. It gave the student mutiple ways to intake the information and made it harder to forget. Once the process is complete you help Wanda cut and stuff the dough, this part of the process being the longest and most tedious. You leave her to fry them as she likes since she'd mentioned her mom let them cook a bit longer and instead move to clean around her. Never a fan of a messy workspace. You hum as you clean, mindlessly really. It seems a tune that always floats around you. One Wanda is sure she's heard you hum before. By the time Wanda is done cooking you've cleaned the kitchen and are able to sit down and enjoy the meal with her. Of course the moment doesn't last and before either of you can even take a bite the smell of food draws in hungry Avengers.

"Mne vsegda nravitsya, kogda ty gotovish'." (I always love when you cook.)

Natasha says entering first, the smell of traditional food equivalent to a cat with its automatic feeder. Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Sam all slowly trickle in after stomachs growling audibly making you laugh.

"I suppose if I didn't cook every once in a while no one would eat around here hmmm?"

The group shares a laugh as they line up one by one to make plates.

"But in all honesty this meal is thanks to Wanda not me, I merely talked her through the steps."

Wanda can't hide the pink that dust her cheeks and all is going well until a certain twin walks in.

"Pirozhki! You always cook the best food sestra."

The blonde kisses his sisters head as he passes by and you can't help the eyebrow that raises in response.

"Always hmmm?"

You hum and Wanda is saved by the entrance of Thor who could of eaten the entire helping had he got here first.

"Mighty (Y/N) your meals are always most invigorating."

You smile at the God and try not laugh when you see his downcast face once he realizes he is the last one to show. Wiping your face after you finish you excuse yourself it was already nearing noon and you still hadn't even looked at the moutain of paperwork on your desk. Wanda watches you go. Over the next three weeks you and Wanda grow closer she begins training with you and Natasha in the mornings and you read with her sometimes in the afternoons, you don't question her about Pietro's comment after your cooking fiasco and Wanda never says anything about it because that woukd mean admitting to you that she was desperate to spend time with you.

"Soo?"

Natasha ask as the two of you jog around the gardens. It was early afternoon in fall, the cool winds combating your rising body heat making the jog enjoyable.

"Nothing."

"Yebat' will she ever make a move?" (Fuck)

You merely shrug.

"I don't know, I'll start showing signs of heat by the end of the week if that doesn't trigger her there's no hope."

Natasha laughs at that.

"Tak khochetsya al'fu, da?" (So eager for an alpha eh?)

"Not just any alpha, Wanda."

The week passes slowly and as the weekend gets closer your pheromones get stronger. The team knew your heat was approaching as they kept a calander for the Alphas so they could know when to distance, well everyone except Wanda apparently. Its Thursday night by the time she's had enough of your distance and decides to ask why you aren't at the table for dinner with the rest of the team.

"Where's (Y/N), I swear I haven't seen her all week."

Natasha sends a small smirk Wanda's way before Steve speaks up.

"Her heat is approaching so she is keeping extra distance for everyones saftey, she should come back around a week or so from today."

Pink hue coats Wanda's cheeks as the thought of you in heat takes over her mind and the pink only gets darker as her hard on begins to form in her pants. Her mind plummets into thoughts about your slick, and body. Thoughts about filling you with her seed and you being full with her pups causes her to be embarrassed by how hard she's become. If not for the table her bulge would be hard to miss. Wanda remains in a fog for the rest of dinner try as she might she couldn't get her mind off mating you and as everyone stands to part ways she remains seated making the excuse that she'd clean up the kitchen. Wanda strained painfully against her pants she could almost smell you now.

Rubbing your sides you walk towards the kitchen dinner should be over by now and you're starving. You need to get as many calories in as you can before you succumb to your heat tomorrow. The pain was slowly starting to set in and you'd be lying if you said you were looking foreward to the next seven days. You let out a groan as you turn the corner a sudden sharp pain stabbing your side. As you enter the threshold of the kitchen goosebumps rise on your skin the familiar smell of Wanda infultrating your nose before your eyes lock with the alphas. You're almost sure you see Wanda begin to tremble but you quickly begin to back away.

"I'm sorry I thought everyone would be gone by now."

You go to retreat from the kitchen and Wanda stands so quickly her chair falls behind her. In a second she's in your face grabbing you softly by the jaw making you look at her.

"Omega."

She whispers as she sniffs at you rubbing her nose against your cheek before falling to your scent gland.

"Mate."

She whispers again and you chirp. Your omega finally satisfied being acknowledged by your alpha. For a few minutes nothing happens, the two of you stand there relishing eachothers presence. You chirp at her as she lightly growls at you and you feel satisfied, whole even. Then you are painfully reminded of your situation causing you to sharply intake air and groan. Wanda growls louder at the noise of your distress and you whimper.

"It hurts."

Wanda's grip on your jaw becomes tighter, pushing you into the wall before pressing her own body against yours.

"Tell me where it hurts, I'll take care you shchenok." (Puppy)

You groan again, your heat suddenly over taking your senses as a result of having your mate so close. Your hands raise to grip Wanda's arms tightly, nails digging into her skin through the fabric of her shirt.

"Need you, please. Alpha. Mate."

Your words come out as little whimpers. Your panting, you don't know why but suddenly you can't get enough air for full breaths. So caught up in Wanda you don't even process you're about to be mated in the tower kitchen but honestly you don't care either. Wanda however does she feels territorial, primal even. She needs you to herself, needs privacy with you. She'd attack anyone who might see your bare body if she mated you here. Her room was on the other side of the compound, the alpha side far from the omegas and living area but your room was just down the hall. Wanda releases your jaw hands moving down your body till she reaches the back of your thigh. You bite your lip enjoying the electricity you felt from her touch. As she picks you up you wrap your legs around her torso tightly. Her hands against your thighs causing your sex to tingle. You wrap one hand around her neck before running the other through soft red hair. You return to chirping at her, the feeling of finding your mate an overwhelmingly happy one. You rub your cheek against hers softly and the alpha lightly growls in acknowledgment. You are consumed by Wanda's presence unable to focus on anything but her. When she lays you lightly on your bed you aren't even sure where you are, you just know you're there with her. Wanda bends over you, tucking her nose into your scent gland once more and growling loudly. She needs you, needs you marked, claimed. Needs everyone to know you belong to her.

"Mate."

The word is once again a whisper but you hear it all the same. The time to romantically strip you would have to be later gripping opposite sides of the loose shirt you wore the alpha literally tears the cloth off of you exposing your bra cladded torso to her. Your breathing speeds up the intimacy of the moment undeniable as you feel Wanda begin to run her lips down your body. It was like electric shock, the currents Wanda's touch sent through your body. She magiced your bra away completely exposing your upper half and growling as her soft lips wrapped around your nipple. You moan loudly in response, it felt good too good. You could get lost in this sensation alone.

"Mine."

Wanda growls against your skin before moving along to your other nipple. Your hands grip at Wanda through her clothes before you whimper.

"Need to feel you alpha."

Wanda growls in response, her eyes glowing red as she magics away her own clothing her skin now pressing against yours. She moves back up your body mouth hovering close before she lays claim to your own. The kiss is magical, the locking of your lips causing what you could only descibe as bliss throughout your whole body. You felt like you were glowing arms and legs wrapping around the alpha tightly you were sure this must be heaven. Wanda began to grind against you through the fabric of your pants, your underwear gliding against your excessive amount of slick. You blush, embarrassed by how wet you truly are from so little foreplay but the feeling doesnt last long when Wanda growls above you. Wanda pulls your pants off your waist guiding them down your thighs just enough to expose your slick and shudders when the smell of you tingles her nostrils. She's overcome with the need to knot you, breed you as she makes her mark on your neck. But she also feels the feral need to take you, to have your slick dripping down her chin as she causes you to come apart on her tongue. Starting with the latter she pulls your pants off quickly. Breaking away from your lips to slowly kiss down your body. You take a long gasp of air eyes dialating as you watch Wanda work her way down. Your hips begin to twitch unable to stay still at the excitement of what was about to come. Wanda's hands move to firmly grip your waist holding you in place as she kisses your stomach moving lower and lower your stomach muscles flex, a wave of arousal flowing through you. When she reaches her destination her hands move to your thighs lifting them up to hold you wide open for her. You're leaking, literally and Wanda can't wait to have a taste. She dives in slurping up the excess before moving to your center. Sucking on your clit then tongue fucking you like a woman starved. Your slick quenches a thirst Wanda didn't even know she had tongue lapping at your clit before quickly moving towards your hole eager to drink up the slick as a result. It doesn't take long and under normal circumstances you're sure you would of been embarrassed but none of that matters when your muscles spasm. Back arching in the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced, your thighs shake, eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream. Wanda doesn't stop eagerly drinking up your orgasm before wanting, no needing you to do that again. You whimper in overstimulation but don't stop your alpha, just as turned on by her need for you. You squirm against the red heads mouth a little towards her a little away, this time you last longer if only for your slight sensitivity causing time before the feeling was pleasurable again yet you cum all the same. Wanda moans loudly as you release into her mouth again. She could do this all day she's sure of it. But now as her precum begins to soak her boxers she knows its time. Lifting onto her knees between your legs red eyes glow as her pants disappear and through your haze you see her in all her glory. You reach down gripping her in your hand moaning at the size while she moans at the sensation. You pump her, an overwhelming feeling to suck her down your through the way she'd done you comes over you but Wanda quickly grabs your hand removing you from her.

"You're going to make me bust shchenok." (Puppy)

Wanda hesitates a second if only to allow her own incoming orgasm to subside, she needed to bury herself in you and it wouldn't look good for her if it ended just as quickly as it started. In the meantime she leans down over you meeting your lips in a hungry kiss the taste of you on her lips causing another wave of your own slick to pool between your legs. You push at her lower back willing her to enter you but she resist. Kissing you eagerly before breaking to kiss to move towards your scent gland, you pant quickly. Wanda's kiss having stolen all the air from your lungs.

"Mine."

Wanda whispers against you, hips beginning to grind against your slick in order to lubricate herself. You shudder in response.

"Yours alpha, take me. I want to be yours."

Wanda reaches down gripping herself in order to slowly slide into you. She's thick stretching you out in ways only she can, the burn sends waves through you and by the time she's completely sheathed you're a whimpering mess.

"Yebat' you're so tight." (Fuck)

She pulls out only to slam back into you, her pace is brutal, hips slamming against yours hitting a sweet spot you didn't even know you had repeatedly. Your moans are as loud as the sound of your wet slick sucking Wanda back in. You claw at her wanting her impossibly closer as she fucked you into next week.

"Holy fuck I'm cumming. Alpha. Alpha."

Your eyes roll back as you arch. The orgasm makes you see white and Wanda doesnt stop. You squirting fueling her ego.

"That's right shchenok. You love the way your alpha fucks you, love how deep I am in you. Look shchenok can you see me."

Wanda brings your gaze down the visible bulge in your stomach when the alpha bottoms out causing your stomach to tighten.

"I'm right here."

Wanda says as she pushes down on the bulge and you spasm again another light orgasm washing through you.

"Fuck I'm gonna fill you up, get you pregnant with my pup."

Wanda pumps into you harder, her knot slamming against your entrance as she nears her own release.

"Alpha. Alpha."

You whimper to fucked out to form any other words.

"You're gonna look so pretty swollen with my seed all mine."

You moan again as Wanda bends towards your scent gland the feel of her canines against your neck enough to almost send you over the edge. She sinks her teeth into you right as you hear a pop. Her knot having settled inside you easily combined with the blackout orgasm of your mating bite. When you come to Wanda is still knotted deep inside you. Nuzzling at your cheeks with a low growl. You chirp back to weak to do much else and Wanda hums.

"My mate, my omega."

10 months later.

You were exhausted, to say the least. A new born was a lot of work and a lot of lost sleep. Wanda wasn't here, literally dragged away for a debrief she was required to attend. If you were honest you didn't mind, she'd been slightly smothering you since you gave birth and while you loved her for it just because you gave birth didn't mean you were no longer a functioning adult. You'd been picking petty arguments since your third trimester which you always felt bad for. It was the hormones combined with being put on bedrest so you didn't get to do your job combined with sexual frustration since the doctor said it was no longer safe for intercourse. You sighed as you stepped out of the shower, now with the added insecurities about the changes in your body since pregnancy and child birth you weren't sure you even wanted Wanda to touch you. Ignoring the mirror you dry yourself before wrapping a towel around you. Exiting the bathroom right as your little baby boy woke up with soft cries. You coo at him lifting him out of his crib you lose your towel throwing it over the side in order to hold your baby against your bare chest. You were barely one month postpartum but glad to be past the part where you were in a sense literally wearing a human diaper. Your son instantly calms at the sound of your heart beat as you bounce him lightly moving to sit in your bed you lean against the headboard letting out slightly pained noises as you try and relax your overworked back. You cover your lower half with the blanket already feeling the chill of the room as you begin to hum at your son. You don't hear the door open to focused to the little boy in your arms, getting comfortable as you move him to breast feed. You hiss as he begins to work at your sore nipple but eventually relax becoming accustomed to the pain. You rub his little head of hair softly smiling at him a fullness in your heart only created by the birth of your child as Wanda makes her pressence known.

"You're so beautiful dorogaya." (Dearheart)

You bite back your own insecurities at her comment humming in response. Looking up you meet Wanda's piercing eyes before meeting her lips in a kiss.

"I mean it dorogaya or have you forgotten I can hear your thoughts."

You can't help but frown not used to not being able to keep secrets.

"But...."

"Ah ah ah no buts, you're even more beautiful now than the day we met. Pregnancy and childbirth has given you a glow nothing else can."

You sigh a familiar warmth filling your chest in response to Wanda's love.

"YA tebya lyublyu." (I love you)

You whisper your free hand coming to rub against Wanda's cheek.

"I ya lyublyu tebya. Forever and always." (And I love you)

[kunikukitty]

✐ Always An Artist, Never The Muse

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fem!reader

xiii. piece no. 134

At that certain night years ago, what if you didn't force yourself to draw more when you clearly cannot? If you allowed yourself to rest, or even acknowledge your limits...

...would things turn out different then?

"Hey, [Name]. Are you okay?" your classmate, Lynette, asked as she looked at you with a tilted head.

With your droopy eyes you stared at her, confused. When her words finally clicked in, you tried to blink away your sleepiness, "Huh? Oh, yes. I am okay, why?"

Shaking her head, she heaved a sign as her eyes bore at your form. "I hope you are." It seems that she doesn't buy your answer. "Anyway, Faruzan's here."

"Right..." You rose to your feet and gave Lynette a smile. Giving her a small wave, you excused yourself.

And there she is, Faruzan, her worry for you is evident in her face. She immediately grabbed your hand when you went near, "Let's grab lunch together." is all she said, before dragging you out of your classroom.

She made you sit on one of the tables in the canteen. Due to you not getting a blink of sleep last night, you almost fell asleep waiting for her, but the sound of the tray hitting the table awoke you. Palmeni, a traditional snezhnayan dish, one of your favorites so far, and a can of strawberry milk.

"So," She starts, standing beside you, "where were you?"

Before you could even utter a word, she spoke again. "I was so so worried, you know! The whole day I was overthinking about my choice, I regret asking you to go there in my place. You looked so sad when you got home and I assume you did not enjoy your time there at all."

She talked fast you barely understood, especially that you have little to no sleep. You closed your eyes and that made her squish your cheek, "I asked Mona what to do and she just told me that maybe you need to be alone for a moment because maybe you got war shocked or something... and I was really scared I had upset you."

You felt the gentle caress of her hands on your head, gently moving down to cup your cheek. You whined at her when she began to shake your head with low intensity, as if trying to awake you.

"I didn't tell Mona nor Capitano that you weren't on our dorm last night. Where were you? Did you get lost? How were you able to attend your classes today? Where did you get your uniform if you didn't go home?" You heard her sniff a few times, "Seems like you took a bath, but where—"

"I can't catch what you're saying!" You complained and she pinched your cheeks in response.

Faruzan is the most worrywart among your circle, vocal about it too. You could say that she's the mother of the group, but in all honesty, she's the least you're closed with.

You were besties with Mona since your elementary days, you both knew Capitano since then but only as classmates. Surprisingly, you three are still classmates by the time you reached highschool, and that's why Mona decided to befriend him this time. Shortly you became trio, then itto came along because proclaims to be Capitano's best dude, but he had his own circle that time. Faruzan then befriended Capitano, and that's how she got in the group. Hutao came last, with itto (again), just as when Capitano left the country.

You sighed. Ever since the exchange student program started, it felt like it was a given chance to strengthen your friendship with Faruzan. At first, you feel awkward to share a dorm room with her, but nonetheless it is better than sharing it with a stranger. You never had the chance to be alone with her before. Anytime you and your friends would go out somewhere, there was never a time that it is just you and her— there's always a third person or fourth. The whole airplane trip to Snezhnaya was the first time, and you enjoyed it.

Before this all started, you were really nervous. But now? it feels so comforting. Being with Faruzan is like becoming a child again. She scolds you like a strict mother and dotes on you like you're her favorite daughter.

She sighed. "Were you with Capitano?"

You shook your head then explained your whereabouts. "At morning I wanted fresh air so I went outside, I don't feel like talking to anybody so... yeah."

"You were just outside the whole time?" You nodded. "Where exactly?"

"Anywhere... I was just walking to my heart's content and—" you yawned, "I didn't realize it was late at night, I went home, then I couldn't sleep so I just prepared for classes the next morning."

"So you managed to get back to our dorm?"

"Hey," You glared at her and she only raised an eyebrow in response. "Mindless walking brought me there, I guess. Anyway, I'm hungry."

You heard her heave a sigh again as she watched you stuff your mouth with the food she bought. "I'll walk you to our dorm later, okay?"

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note. I GOT IN ARGEGSHSHSBSVSHSH I GOT IN IM GONNA BE AN ARCHI STUDENT GRAAAAAAA

taglist. @veekoko @aeongiies @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @magica-ren @feiherp @beriiov @hiraethhv @kleej @eutopiastar @keiiqq @bananasquash @kuniisvt @tamikahoshiko @scaraenthusiast1 @sketcheeee @xxrougefangxx @luciledreamz @icomeheretolaughnottofeel @sereniteav @lily-lmao @h3xi2g0n3 (i cant tag those in bold)

[whydoyoucare866]

The Night We Met

PAIRINGS:

Titans! Jason todd x reader

SUMMARY:

Bruce has taken in Jason Todd as his youngest son and the new robin some months ago, Bruce's goddaughter also came back to Gotham after being away for a year.

Some months after meeting Jason she starts a friends with benefits relationship with him, suddenly Jason has to move to the Titans tower and two weeks later Bruce sends her too, but, why is Jason ignoring her and acting like he doesn't know her and why does it get worse when Rose Wilson arrives to the tower??

A/N: I finally figured out a song to base this chapter off, I’m sorry I went so off with their conversation and didn’t really get anywhere with it, I just really want them to bond and I don’t think ahead of writing I just start and see where it takes me, I know this can be really boring but I want this to be a LONG fic and a slow burn and that can’t happen if the whole plot happens in two chapters so bare with me please!

TWS: slow burn, angst, blood, canon violence, mentions of death, anxiety, jealousy, friends to friends with benefits to enemies to lovers?, maybe death of a main character (haven't decided yet) change of plot

Keep in mind that English is not my first language, I also know nothing about guns, human anatomy or fighting in the language so I'm sorry if I make a lot of mistakes

Gif credits to Titanstv on Pinterest

Story Masterlist / Main Masterlist

You felt a throbbing pain in your head and started slowly opening your eyes and becoming aware of your surroundings, you were trying to figure out how long you had slept for since according to the sky it was night now and you didn't know if it was the next day now or if you had just slept some hours, now that you think of it, you didn't actually remember falling asleep either, well thats what happens when you cry too much after not sleeping for two days i guess, you decided that you would really love a glass of water right now and started making your way to the kitchen, you hoped no one was awake or at home, after your whole emotional moment with Bruce and Alfred you realized how embarrassing it had been to cry your heart out in front of someone who did not even know you and how much of a big deal you had made things that seriously were not that deep, then you cried more of embarrassment, and then you realized how much of a baby you were being, and realized you were really sleep deprived and really needed some sleep.

You arrived to the kitchen and just as luck would have it, there was no other than Jason Todd, the guy who had to awkwardly witness a girl he didn't know sob her eyes out but while thinking about it you realized that making it a bigger deal than it was would only make it actually embarrassing and would probably ruin any chance of friendship with that guy so you decided that you would let it go and it had never happened.

Jason didn't acknowledge you at all, he was too concentrated on eating what he had cooked for himself earlier and honestly he didn't seem like a very social guy so you just let him be.

You reached for a glass but then decided that maybe you should grab a thermos so you could bring it to your room and not have to make your way over to the kitchen every time you were thirsty, the noise made Jason acknowledge you but he just gave you a nod while he looked at you and you just returned it, you went to fill the water and you could still feel Jason staring at you, the environment was really awkward and Jason looked like he wanted to say something, or maybe he just wanted you to leave, well, this was your chance to talk to him, if he didn't want to talk to you back then you would just let him be, no harm in trying to make friends in your own home.

"Aren't you supposed to be out there with Bruce?" you asked him

He shook his head and pointed to his ribcage "got stabbed, Bruce wouldn't allow me to go back out there"

"Huh, how'd you get stabbed?" you asked not being bothered by it, you were used to these kind of things

"Harley" he said nonchalantly

"Oh" you said and nodded at him

"Mhm"

"I thought she hadn't been active in a while?" I said, Dick had told me before he left Bruce that Harley hadn't made an appearance in almost a year and it looked like she might want redemption.

"Yeah but Joker was put back in Arkham some months ago, we thought they had broken up but turns out it was just an act and she was just plotting something to try and get him out or get revenge or something like that, and well i may be skilled but Harley is Harley" he said taking bites of his food.

"Yeah I get you, even I am scared of going against Harley"

"You are? haven't you beaten her like a lot of times?"

"Yeah but miss girl is not just crazy and skilled but she's also in LOVE like not cutesy love, but maniac love that's a dangerous combination" you said in an exaggerated way to get your point across.

"I wouldn't call that love" he said while shaking his head before taking another bite of his food which you had no idea what it was.

"Then what would you call it?"

"Obsession I guess, she's like obsessed with him, she would throw herself against chemicals that will probably kill her if he asked for it... oh wait she already did"

"Yeah, poor girl would give her life for someone who just manipulates her and uses her”

"I mean yeah, but I wouldn't call her poor she's still a psycho" he shrugged.

"Maybe, but she's in love, even if you wouldn't call it that i think i would, its not a healthy love but she just loves him in a really obsessive unhealthy way, also if you see it in a way, we are psychos as well" i say before taking a sip of my water.

"What do you mean?" he asked as he sipped what must be coffee from a mug and looked at me curiously.

"Well, what kind of people just beats up other people every night?"

"Well yeah, but we only beat criminals and people who deserve it, they actually kill" he said trying to defend his point.

"I mean, yeah they may kill and we don't, but what's worse? dying or being paralyzed and basically tortured for life?"

"What do you mean?" he frowned and tilted his head a bit, he was intrigued in the conversation now.

"Well do you honestly think everyone will just be fine after being thrown around and beaten up until the point where you know if you give one more punch they'll die? I mean even professional fighters get brain paralysis or quadriplegic or like vegetative state from a bad blow and they have like precautions in those fights, now imagine in a fight where there's no precautions and the only stop sign is either them going unconscious or them not being able to move or them being a step away from death keep in mind that the criminals that you beat sometimes aren't trained or don't even know how to fight like regular thieves and shit, im obviously not talking about criminals like Ivy or Harley and stuff and a lot of the vigilantes have actually killed at least one person, maybe not intentionally but yeah" I explained to him.

"Huh, I guess if you think about it like that you're right" he nodded and took one last bite out of his plate

"Of course I am, I"m always right" I smiled at him

"Sure you are" he rolled his eyes in a playful way and stood up to wash his dirty dishes.

"I am!" I say pretending to be offended

"Uh huh, whatever you say" he smiled at me, "well, uhm its pretty late and I guess I should try to get some sleep, so see you tomorrow, I guess" he said before starting to head out of the kitchen.

"Sure, goodnight" I said to him.

"Night" He replied before finally leaving the kitchen.

taglist:

@fairyeoll @singitoutgirl26 @mad-die45 @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @pariahsparadise

[tonyspank]

TILL DEATH DO US PART

Summary: You keep coincidentally running into your ex-girlfriend, in the worst possible situations.

A/N: This reminds me of Heart. Like this one-shot is if Heart had a twin lowkey.

Warnings: death, stabbings, frankie, tara being a meanie at one point

Tara Carpenter x Reader

The first time you ran into Tara it was a complete coincidence. You were on the clock, and received a complaint about a leaking sink. Sam was actually the one who had made the complaint. She was standing in her kitchen, and pointed to the sink in frustration. She already knew how to fix it, and just needed a plumber to do the job. You had a look, and saw that the problem was a simple one. You took out your tools and went to work.

It didn't take very long. You gently removed the old drain seal with a pair of pliers. You applied the new adhesive around the bare drain, and finally replaced the seal, making sure to apply it centered around the drain.

You tested the seal to make sure it was properly seated. You then cleaned up the area, disposing of the old seal and any other debris. You were finished with the project. Sam, who had been standing there the entire time, arms crossed mumbled a thank you. You nodded in acknowledgement and turned to leave.

 But once you stepped foot out of the kitchen you were met with a loud gasp. "Oh my god! You're Y/N Y/L/N!" The person who had exclaimed was standing in the doorway, eyes wide. You'd be happy to be recognized in any other scenario, but you just repaired a leaking sink. Now you were getting noticed by Chad Meeks, your school's Quarterback for your football team.

Chad had noticed you because Blackmore University basketball team has you on it's roster. You have been rewarded with a full-ride scholarship. You've worked hard to reach this point and are grateful for the opportunity. You want to make the most of your time there and hope to lead the team to success. You are determined to make your family and coaches proud.

You average a shit ton of points, and have been on ESPN multiple times. You're glad to represent your school. Everyone is counting on you to lead your team to victory.

Mindy, who you knew from Tara (she didn't know you, though) rolled her eyes at her brother's reaction. Chad seemed at a loss for words, so you spoke up, "Hey, Chad right? Nice to meet you." He smiled, "YOU KNOW MY NAME?" Mindy groaned and walked away, shaking her head.

Then your eyes turn to the newcomer, likely confused by all the commotion.

That newcomer was Tara. She looked better than ever, God. How could you let her get away? You could feel your heart racing and your palms sweating. You wanted to approach her and say something, anything, but you knew it wasn't the right time or situation to do so.

 You met Tara at orientation, and immediately found yourself attracted to her. She was new at Blackmore, while you had a year to get settled down. You introduced yourself to the dark-haired woman, showing her the ropes around the school. You two started talking more and more as the days went on, and you found yourself quickly growing closer to her. Eventually, you asked her out on a date and she said yes. You were excited to start this new relationship and get to know Tara better.

Tara had opened up to you, telling you about everything that happened in Woodsboro. You had grown to love her and wanted to be there for her. You could tell that she had been through a lot, and you were determined to make sure she knew that she was safe with you.

She had also told you about Sam, and how protective Sam was about her. And also how she had basically followed her to New York. She admitted that she wanted to keep your relationship private, and that it was better to keep her friends and Sam away from all this. She was scared that if they knew it would affect your relationship with them in a negative way. She wanted to keep living her own life, free and happy.

You hesitantly agreed. You knew it was the right thing to do, even though it felt wrong. You wanted what was best for her, so you decided to keep your relationship a secret, even though it was hard to do.

No one knew who you were to Tara. Not Chad, not Mindy, not Sam, no one. It was like you didn't exist in her public life. But that was ok. Tara deserved her privacy and you wanted to respect that. And you knew that when the time was right, you would be able to tell the world who you were to her. That was enough for now.

Whenever Tara wanted to hang out, it would be at your apartment. You'd have dates out of town just to make sure anyone didn't spot her, and you barley talked on campus. A part of you felt like a dirty secret while the other part felt special. It was a secret that only you two shared, and it made you feel special to be chosen by her. You felt like you had something no one else did.

You turn back to Sam, who was watching you, with that blank face she always wore. "Um, I'm finished." Sam opens her mouth but is cut off by Tara. "You fixed the leak?" You nod. "Wait, you're a handyman as well?" Chad asks. You shrug, embarrassed. "Just part-time." You mumble, looking away. Sam clears her throat. "How much?"

"I don't wanna charge you. It was simple," you say. Sam shakes her head, "No, no. We wouldn't accept that." She pulls out her wallet and hands you a few bills. "Here. It's the least we can do." You smile gratefully and thank her before packing up your tools and leaving, but not before sparing a glace at Tara.

 The second time you ran into Tara was also a coincidence. It had been a few days since you fixed the leaking sink. You were sitting outside, watching people enter the frat house with crazy costumes on. You couldn't help but smile as you watched them. People just chose the silliest things for Halloween, huh? You noticed a few people wearing masks, although they didn't seem to match their costumes. You thought it was strange, but shrugged it off. After all, it was Halloween - anything goes!

"Dude, what the hell is your costume?" You hear your best friend, Junipter say from behind you. You turn your head, now showcasing your own costume, and say "I'm a pirate! Duh!" Junipter stares at you, a look on his face. "Was this on purpose?" You furrow your eyebrows at his lack of context. Junipter says, "I mean, she's a pirate as well." You think for a second and realize that he is referring to Tara. She did tell you she was planning on being a pirate for Halloween, but it completely slipped your mind.

 "Fuck." You mumble, you hope she wasn't going to take it the wrong way. You take a deep breath and try to explain the situation to Junipter. He looks back at you skeptically, but eventually he nods in understanding. "Let's just go inside."

You enter the house and you're immediately met with flashing lights and a bunch of drunk college students. You sigh and make your way through the crowd, eventually finding the kitchen. You spot an open bottle of vodka on the counter and quickly grab it. "Wait, Y/N! I think Zoe is here." Junipter says, his eyes attached to his phone. You nod and take a swig of the vodka. Zoe liked you, and you knew it. She liked you before you and Tara were together, but never offically gave her a chance.

 And when you and Tara started dating, you had shut Zoe out. You hadn't seen her in months, and now she was here. You couldn't help but feel a little nervous, wondering if she still liked you, would you even want to give her a chance?

 No. Probably not, especially since you're not even over Tara. It was a bad idea.

 "You should try and talk to her," You say to Junipter. He sends you a confused look, "She'll probably give your ugly ass a chance." You joke, Junipter laughs nervously, not sure if he should take your advice. He takes a deep breath and decides to give it a try. "Okay-- uhh, I'm gonna go find her." He walks off, heart pounding, and finds her in the corner of the room. He swallows hard and takes a deep breath before introducing himself. She smiles warmly and they start talking. You watch the situation with a smile on your face, and you're glad you encouraged him to take the leap.

 Your heart drops when two people block your view. It's Frankie and Tara. In an instant, you leave the bottle of vodka, and you make your way to the other side of the room, neither of them noticing you were there. You take a deep breath and wait to see what happens next.

You can barely hear their conversation due to the distance and the music that is playing. But you can see their facial expressions, and you can also read Tara like a book. She was hesitant, and you can tell she is slightly uncomfortable with the situation. She fights off her discomfort and gives a smile, trying to make the best out of the situation, following Frankie with a wobble.

It's clear she's drunk, so where the hell did this guy think he was taking her?

Tara decided to go along with it, to see where the night was taking her. As they walked together, she could feel her heart racing and her thoughts spinning. She had no idea what she was getting herself into. Mindy and Anika see the pair walking past them. You leave the kitchen following them but not too close for anyone to notice.

 Tara felt a tingle of excitement—and a hint of fear—as she followed. As Anika halts the two, you stand back and watch. Frankie tries to introduce himself to Anika, but she's not up for it, shutting him down. Tara doesn't help the situation though, reassuring her friend that she's okay which only makes Frankie smirk, happily.

 You quickly continue following the two. Mindy watches you move at the speed of light as you walk past her on the couch. You keep a close eye on the two, ready to step in if things get out of hand. Anika walks off in another direction.

The two only make it up one step before you interfere. "Frankie!" He turns around, confused. Tara's heart drops at the sound of your voice. You take a deep breath to compose yourself before speaking. "Why don't we just keep the party downstairs?"

Tara looks at Frankie, while Frankie laughs at your words. "I'm good."

You clench your jaw, looking at Tara who's already staring at you. "C'mon T, let's get you home." She takes one look at Frankie again before walking down the steps, placing her hands on your cheeks.

Wow, she was really drunk.

"Y/N, 'M good, okay?" She stumbled and almost fell. You quickly grabbed her arm to steady her. She looked up at me with a dazed expression and said again, "I'm good." She repeats, "You're not, let's go home."

She let's go of your face, before she could mumble more words to you Frankie grabs her arm. "She said she's good!" He yells, pulling her up the stairs. Tara winces, muttering an "Ow." You grab Frankie by his shirt, turning around and shoving him away from Tara. Chad and Anika are now here, and Chad watches the scene confused and unsure what to do. "Don't fucking touch her." A crowd crowds around you, cameras out.

Frankie shoves you back, His eyes full of rage. You step forward, determined not to back down. Tara takes this chance to escape, walking to Chad and Anika follow her, leaving you and Frankie staring each other down. You stand your ground, unblinking, and Frankie finally looks away. He takes a few steps back and turns, striding away without a word. You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the situation didn't escalate any further.

 Some people from the crowd groan at the fact they didn't get to witness a fight, walking away and joining the party again.

You take a moment to collect yourself before turning to Chad, Tara, Anika, and now Mindy and Junipter. They look relieved, but you can still see the slight fear in their eyes.

 "Are you okay?" Junipter asks, breaking the silence. You nod, "Yeah, that guys a dick though." Tara walks away from the group, and you furrow your eyebrows quickly following her, leaving everyone confused.

 Tara is now marching her tiny legs on the path's of Blackmore University, in the direction of her apartment. "Tara!" You shout after her, "Can you stop? Please!" Tara stops and looks back. She takes a few steps towards you, an annoyed look on her face. "You embarrassed me." "I'm sorry." You admit, looking at the ground. "I didn't mean to, it's just that I worried about you." Tara stares at you for a few seconds, causing you to scoff. "He was going to take advantage of you."

"So!" She shouts, "So?" You repeat confused. "If I wanna hook up with an asshole that's my decision." You shake your head, glancing at Tara's friends and Junipter behind you. "It's not about you! I mean, Jesus! We broke up, move on! Cause I know I'm trying." You clench your jaw, "Tara." She stares at you, her eyes blazing. "Yes, it's your decision but that doesn't mean it's a good one."

She crosses her arms, her voice shaking. "It's my life, I'll do what I want!" You take a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "That's not the point," you say firmly. "You deserve better. You deserve respect, and that's what that decision was depriving you of."

Tara runs her hands down her face, upset. "Just-" She sighs, "Just stay out of my life, please?" You take a few steps back and look away. You're not going to make her do anything she doesn't want to, and if that means respecting her decision, then so be it. You stay silent as Tara turns and walks away.

You watch Tara disappear into the night, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and relief. You know that you have to respect her wishes, but it still hurts to see her go. You take a deep breath. Chad speaks up from the group, "You and Tara dated?!" You nod. The group falls silent, not knowing what to say. You turn away, hoping to hide the tears that had begun to form in your eyes.

Tara's friends say their goodbyes to you and began following their friend. You watch as they get farther and farther away, until they are finally out of sight. You take a few moments to compose yourself before turning back towards Junipter, who gives you a sad smile. You take a deep breath and try to put on a brave face, unwilling to show the pain and sadness you are feeling.

Junipter puts an arm around you and pulls you close. You rest your head on his shoulder and take solace in his presence. Together, you begin the walk back to your own home.

The third time you run into Tara was another coincidence. Quinn—who's in your math class asked you for help with your upcoming test, and you agreed to help. You requested to meet at the library because you were not interested in seeing nor talking to Tara again after your argument/disagreement. Quinn insisted to meet at her apartment, and you hesitantly agreed. When you arrived at the apartment, you were surprised to see Tara was not there.

Quinn was confused but she reassured you that Tara had left the apartment for the evening, you relaxed and settled down into your study session. You and Quinn had a productive evening of studying. You both discussed the upcoming exam and the best strategies for studying. Quinn offered to help review some of the material with you. After a few hours, you both said goodbye and left.

Later on in the day you realized that you left your laptop in Quinn's room, you had tried calling her to confirm that it was indeed in her room, but her phone was sent straight to voicemail. You decided the best course of action was to go to the Bailey-Carpenter apartment to check if your laptop was still there.

 You arrived at the apartment and just before you could knock on the door, you hear screaming.

You quickly step back and try to assess the situation. Suddenly the door flies open and Chad and Tara sprint out, nearly tackling you to the ground. "Y/N?" Tara says, scared and confused.

Though you don't hear her, you're in shock at seeing Ghostface tower over Mindy. You also see a dead Quinn, and a scared Sam and Anika. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you try to think of a plan. Your fight or flight response activates and you react immediately. Taking off your bookbag you throw it at Ghostface. He looks at you for a slight second before returning his attention to Mindy.

 Chad grabs Tara's arm, running down the steps with her. Anika grabs Ghostface's legs in an attempt to help her girlfriend. Sam gets up, running to the kitchen in search of a weapon while you run into the apartment. Ghostface quickly wraps an arm around Anika's throat, pinning her to the ground.

 You throw your body at the masked killer, pushing them away from Anika. Sam returns unsuccessful with finding a knife, instead she grabbed the knife holder, throwing it at his head. Anika grabs Mindy, bringing her into Anika's room, Sam following close behind the two.

Ghostface stands up, slamming the front door. "C'mon, bitch." You mumble, standing your ground. You take a deep breath and prepare for a fight. The killer charges at you, knife in hand. You dodge the attack and grab a nearby lamp, swinging it towards the killer in an attempt to knock them out. As the killer stumbles back, you make a break for it, running into Quinn's bedroom and closing the door behind you.

You and Sam press against the door as Ghostface bangs on it. Yours eyes scan the room and you do indeed see your laptop, "I knew I left it here." You mumble to yourself, but Sam hears and looks at you confused.

"My laptop." You say, using your head to point at it. Sam nods, but the furrow still on her in brows.

Anika is on the bed with Mindy who groans out, "Fuckkk..." at the pain throbbing in her arm.

Suddenly, the banging stops. You eye Sam confused, who looks back toward the bathroom doors, which are both open. "Anika!" Sam whisper shouts, "Bathroom door, hurry." Anika rushes to the bathroom. She screams out in horror noticing the dead body in the tub.

Before Anika has time to shut the door, Ghostface appears. He stabs her in the stomach and twists the knife causing her to yell in pain. You and Sam rush to her aid. Ghostface shoves Anika's body into Sam.

 Sam falls to the ground with Anika in her arms. Sam holds Anika's body, staring at her in disbelief. You turn to face Ghostface who creeps closer to you. Sam rushes up, pulling Anika into Quinn's room. You follow behind, closing the door just in time. Ghostface bangs on the door, trying to get in, but you're pressing harder. Mindy takes Anika from Sam, and Sam runs to help you. You look at the dresser in the room then Sam, she nods running to dresser and shoving it against the door with your help.

Ghostface continues to bang on the door, but it's of no use. You and Sam hold the dresser in place, the dresser blocking the door from opening. Sam takes a step back, relieved that the dresser is strong enough to keep Ghostface out. You and Sam exchange a glance, relieved that you are safe for now. But you know the danger isn't over yet. You must find a way to escape before Ghostface finds another way in.

Sam runs to the window, and you decide to stay back by the door. Just in case. Mindy gets up, helping you maintain the barricade. You see Sam's neighbour- Danny? You believe that's Danny, Tara had told you about him and how she thinks him and Sam are screwing behind everyone's back.

Guess it takes one to know one.

They exchange a few words before Danny passes a ladder through the window. "Anika! Mindy! You two go first," Mindy shakes her head, "What no?"

"Mindy!" Sam shouts. Mindy stands her ground. "Someone has to help Y/N hold the door! I'll send Anika next, go!" Sam reluctantly exits through the window, making her way steadily across the ladder. "Shit, Anika your stomach looks like Niagara Falls," You say, sweat now apparent on your forehead. Anika throws her head back groaning. "Can you please say something more positive?"

Mindy leaves you, wrapping an arm around Anika and bringing her to the window. "You have to go first. You have to go," Mindy nearly begs her girlfriend. Anika shakes her head and tears fall. "No! No, Mindy! I can't! I'll be right behind you, I promise."

Ghostface delivers a hard kick to the door, sending you a few feet in front of the dresser. You hurry and go back to your old position, pouring all your strength into holding the dresser in place. Mindy and Anika look back in fear, knowing that arguing who goes first was not going to help them survive this.

 Mindy pulls Anika into a kiss, all of her emotions going into it. Fear, sadness, and contentment. Anika holds Mindy tightly, feeling the same emotions. Mindy pulls away and looks at Anika with a sad expression, making her way onto and across the ladder.

 Your heart begins to pound even more if it was possible. You are completely scared shitless. You don't know if you can hold off Ghostface any longer. He was one persistent son of a bitch. Anika is now halfway across the ladder, and the dresser is shoved into your back, your barricade is now gone. You take a deep breath and steel yourself for what's to come. You're determined to survive this. You can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you prepare for the fight.

Sam, Danny, and Mindy's faces dropped. Anika furrows her eyebrows confused. She turns around noticing Ghostface has made his way into Quinn's room. She rushes to the end of the ladder, safely reaching Danny's apartment. Sam watches you hold your ground to Ghostface. She doesn't know how to feel.

Were you about to sacrifice your life for her and her friends? 

 "Come on!" You yell at Ghostface who squeezes his way through the dresser. He menacingly approaches you, his knife glinting in the moonlight. You close your eyes and prepare for the worst, you knew he was stronger than you, but that doesn't mean you'd go out without a fight. You lunge forward, swinging your fists wildly in the hopes of pushing him away. Your efforts are in vain, however, and Ghostface easily knocks you aside. He raises his knife, ready to deliver the final blow.

You quickly move out of the way back onto your feet. You take a deep breath and focus on Ghostface, readying yourself for the next attack. He charges forward, knife raised. You prepare to fight back. You dodge the attack and punch Ghostface in the face. He stumbles back and you take the opportunity to run away. You squeeze yourself through the dresser and make your way into the bathroom.

Danny and Sam watch you. What the hell did you think you were doing?

Yes, he was stronger than you, but was he smarter than you? You were going to trick him. If he didn't follow you through the crack, he'd go the other way and try to cut you off. But you stayed in the bathroom. Not seeing him emerge through the small squeeze, you quickly and quietly squeeze back through and push the dresser to the door.

 You nearly dive out the window onto the ladder, which Sam and Danny hold onto, cheering you on as you make your way across. You get into Danny's apartment, and you let out of breath of relief. Danny and Sam help you through the window and you collapse on the floor, laughing. You can't believe you actually did it!

 It was now morning. Everyone had made it, except for Quinn. Chad and Tara was also there, Tara had engulfed you into a tight hug, sobbing into your chest. Chad stood beside her, his face twisted with worry. You gently patted Tara's back, feeling your own eyes beginning to swell with tears. You looked around at the group, noticing that everyone had the same expression of worry and grief. You all had made it through the night, but Quinn hadn't. You felt a deep sadness wash over you, and you knew that this was going to be a difficult for all of you.

Chad couldn't bring it to himself to hug you but, He squeezed your shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort. You appreciated the small gesture and realized that, in that moment, words weren't enough.

Tara hasn't left your side once, almost like she was scared Ghostface would just walk up and take you. You missed her, and your breakup had to be one of the hardest things you've dealt with in college. You felt like you had to protect Tara, like you could shield her from the world's dangers. You wished you could have been there to keep her safe and make her feel secure. You were determined to make up for lost time and make her feel loved again.

"Did you mean it?" You ask, you and Tara now alone in the back of an ambulance. She lifts her head from your shoulder, confused on what you're talking about. "About me staying out of your life? Do you really want that?"

 Tara shakes her head. She misses you. "I don't," she says, her voice heavy with emotion. "I want to be a part of your life, I want you to be a part of mine." Tears come to her eyes, but she quickly wipes them away. "But look what happens when you are." She mumbles, looking around at the damage Ghostface has done.

You take her hand in yours, and pull her close again. "It won't be like this forever," you murmur. "We'll figure this out, I promise." Tara takes a deep breath and nods, trying to compose herself. She wraps her arms around your waist, and you hold her close. You both sit there, embracing each other in the moment of comfort and understanding. You finally break apart, looking into each other's eyes with a newfound sense of hope.

You both smile at each other, and you lean in to kiss her. You both feel a glimmer of hope that you can make it through this together. The kiss is gentle yet passionate, and you both linger in it for what feels like an eternity, savoring the moment. You pull away, feeling a connection and an understanding of one another. You both hold each other's hands, knowing that no matter what happens, you have each other to lean on.

[nahoyasboyfriend]

Obedience & punishment

a/n: baby's first angst fic and my first time writing kit. hopefully this isn't too bad 😭 I tried.

warning: I don't think there's anything besides caning.

word count: 1.6k

sister mary had changed after she took over briarcliff. she wasn't the meek girl you'd seen from afar. She was cruel, outspoken, and authoritative. you happened to be the one chosen to do her bidding. so when she unexpectedly asked you to go fetch kit walker, it made you wonder what she wanted from him.

“if I may ask, can I know what you need him for?” you mumble, keeping your voice measured.

she glances at you, mouth flattening into a thin line, and then tersely replied, “he’s in trouble.”

nodding, you don't press it any further, and scurry off to go find him. you don't know why he's in trouble. you haven't heard any rumors about what he could've done, and nobody mentioned anything until now. you hadn't spent any personal time with him, but he seemed nice, or at least as nice as you could be stuck in here. he was cordial the few times the two of your paths crossed, and it was surprising that such a mild mannered man could do the horrible things he did.

surveying the bleak common room, your eyes hone in on him. even from afar you see how the asylum was wearing down on him. he was staring off into the distance, wholly out of touch with the real world. his spirit had dulled, emptiness filling the void where ardent desire to be free once burned. your heart aches simply looking at his despondent form. his eyes had grown heavy bags underneath them, his lips chapped. he looked a mess. you edged closer, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, but he noticed you before you could, flinching away. it was a justified reaction so you didn't acknowledge it, “I need you to come with me.”

he eyes you cautiously, chewing on his bottom lip, “why?”

you give a weak shrug, “sister mary asked for you.”

it takes a moment for him to get up, but eventually he slowly rises from his seat. your eyes follow him up until he's standing in front of you. then you turn around and head straight to her office. she doesn't appreciate waiting. occasionally, you peek behind you to see if he's still there, feeling a sense of relief wash over you when you do.

once you reach her door, you shoot one more cursory glance his way before knocking. you hear a muffled voice, that you assume is telling you to come in so you do. you push the door open, holding it so kit can slip by. you go to leave, but you hear her say, “no, stay. I need you to do something.”

rather hesitantly, you follow him in, letting the door fall shut behind you. she gets up out of her seat, walking around to lean on the desk. the tension kills you, makes an aching pit in your stomach. it makes you feel uncomfortable in your own skin.

“confess,” she proclaims. he looks confused like he's unaware of what she's questioning him about.

“admit that you murdered those women,” she asserts, crossing her arms and cocking her head.

“I didn't do it,” he snaps, like he’s repeated many times before. you've heard those words so much they've started to become blurry. a muddled heap of truth and lies. it doesn't matter if it's true. nothing they say really matters in briarcliff but they say it anyway. usually because it's what they want to hear, what they need to believe to survive in this place. if you're guilty then you deserve it, and nobody wants to believe they deserve this.

sister mary lets out an annoyed sigh, a frown tugging at her features. she falls silent for a few seconds, then she looks at you, “go grab a cane.”

she barely spares him a glance as she says, “pull your pants down and bend over.”

she pushes herself off the desk, stepping to the side. succumbing to his fate, he obliges. there's no point in fighting a losing battle. you walk to the cabinet, and pick out a cane. you pick the one you think hurts the least, mainly for your peace of mind than out of concern for him. you attempt to hand it to her, but she shakes her head, “you do it.”

worms breed in your stomach. a heaviness settling on your heart. you thought about saying no, and running off with your last shred of morality. sensing your dread, she gives you a deceitfully warm smile. a silent threat. now wary of the consequences, you stayed. bearing witness to the atrocities that took place in the asylum was difficult, but you could get accustomed to it– you had. you hardened your heart, convinced yourself that these people are supposed to be treated like this. but you had never been the one to deal out any punishments, and when you do it just happens to be oh so respectful, awfully polite kit walker.

you shouldn't feel bad, you know that. he murdered and skinned those innocent women in cold blood, but as you peered down at him, you almost couldn't believe that he would do such terrible things. you raise your arm, and begin the motion to swing, but you don't make contact with his skin. panicked, your eyes flit over to her but she doesn't look annoyed, instead she looks amused like this is free entertainment.

with a dismissive wave, she urges you, “go on.”

you swallow down the lump in your throat, lifting your arm once more. you do make contact this time, and you see him jolt at the feeling. his head falls onto the desk. you strike him again. he manages to muffle his pained cries by biting his bottom lip and shoving his face into his elbow.

“tell me you killed those women, walker,” she asks again. like a stubborn child, he wildly shakes his head. she tuts, “three more.”

and you obey because it doesn't matter how you feel. all that matters is her word and the fact that he needs to be punished. tears roll down his cheeks, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“admit it.”

“I didn't do nothin,” he grits out. his will power is commendable despite the circumstances, and it makes the weight on your shoulders heavier. she doesn't need to say it, because you're already hitting him again, four more.

“this could be over if you would confess,” she snaps, annoyed, and he lets out a watery chuckle.

“yeah, right.”

she isn't entirely wrong, this would end. although, it would be used against him in trial, ultimately leading to his execution. if it wasn't for that, you'd encourage him to confess too. though a sick part of you wished he would suddenly profess everything, save yourself from the heartache that you could be beating an innocent man. your arm aches, and your hand is throbbing from how hard you're clenching the damn thing.

he winces with every strike, though he tries not to. they’re measly attempts to cover up his weakness. stray tears intermittently slip down his cheeks, and there’s blood seeping onto his spit-shiny lip from all his biting. his ass is covered in raised welts and tiny specks of blood from the thin cane. It looks like the air simply brushing against it would hurt. in spite of all this, he remains resilient, taking each swat in stride. you've lost count on how many times you've hit him, or how many times he's had to repeat that he didn't do it. you can barely listen to her complaints, and her snide remarks about how he could end this.

when he still doesn't come clean, mary gets tired of him. quickly turning peevish and brooding. she goes quiet for a long while, until finally she lets up, ordering for you to stop. you try to brush off all of it just as one more smudge on your conscience, something else to keep you up at night, but the sight of him sticks with you. he looks so… broken. piteous little sobs leaving his pink lips, trembling through the pain.

“leave. now.” she huffs, and you can tell it's meant for the both of you. you wait behind to watch him leave.

he uses his arms to push himself off the desk, carefully tugging up his pants. you can see the way his eyes threaten to gloss over again and how his breath hitches from the pants rubbing against his welts. it must hurt like hell. you don't attend to his needs yet. not now, not under her watch, so you wait until he's out the door. you catch up to him in the hall.

“um, I can fetch you some salve to soothe the pain later.”

he doesn't seem too pleased with your presence because he flat-out ignores you, picking up the pace. determined, you match his pace. he scowls, shooting you a harsh glare, “don’t you have someone else to bother.”

“I just wanna help you.”

“I don't need it,” he remarks, continuing to walk away. accepting the fact that you're not going to make it through to him, you stop walking, allowing him to get further away from you. you feel a dull ache in your chest watching him step away. a hollow empty feeling. you just did something terrible to him, and you can't even convince him that you only want to help him. it's completely understandable on his part, but it still makes you feel helpless. so you retreat to your room for the day. you hope that he seeks you out and takes your offer. you don't know if it's the guilt or the genuine concern for his well-being that makes you desperate to help him, but all you can do now is pray that he comes back.

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-six

*gif created by me(thefallennightmare) feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: Possibly the last one for tonight but we'll see!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday

Things were different; weird.

It's been a few days since our time at the Airbnb and Noah's barely acknowledged what happened between us. And instead of avoiding me, he was always there. Before when I entered a room, he would find some excuse to leave, me doing the same. Now when I walk into a room or place he was in, he watches me with intense eyes. Not that I was complaining if I was being honest. But what happened between us still didn't excuse his previous attitude towards me. I'd done nothing to deserve his cold shoulder, and I planned to make sure he knew that if we continued this.

No, I rapidly shook my head. That was a one-time thing.

With a sigh, I kept my attention on finishing setting up the merch booth while the guys were on stage for a sound check. I bobbed my head along to the beat Folio smashed on his guitars, the opening to Artificial Suicide echoing loudly in the empty space. Thankfully, this venue had space for me to set up the booth in the main area so I could watch the show tonight.

As confusing as our relationship, if you could call it that, was. I still loved watching Bad Omens. They were electrifying on stage.

When Noah's voice came through the speakers, I cringed and turned on my heels to watch. He cleared his throat, the music halting before he threw his thumb in a circle showing that they started it from the top. They did and the same thing happened; Noah's voice cracked and sounded as if he was losing it.

"How does it sound, Y/N?" He asked into the microphone.

I walked closer to the stage with my face screwed up so I didn't have to yell. "Do you want the truth?"

"I wouldn't expect anything else from you."

That made me chuckle but then let out a deep sigh.

"You sound like shit, Noah. What's going on?" I stuck my hands in the back pockets of my jeans and put all of my weight on my left foot, cocking a hip out.

Noah sighed while handing the microphone to one stagehand before sitting on the edge of the stage, his long legs dangling off. I was a few feet in front of him and ignored the way my brain screamed at me to slink between them.

"I woke up this morning with a sore throat and thought it'd get better by now," he ran a hand through his hair.

Matt sighed next to me; stress clear on his face. "We've got about six hours until your set. Why don't you rest your voice until then. We can cover the rest of the sound check without you."

"You sure?"

Nick clasped a hand on Noah's shoulder and nodded. "We got it."

While they all conversed about what to do, an idea sprung to mind and I pulled out my phone to look up the nearest coffee shop. Thinking no one noticed, I slipped away from them while sending a text to Davis, who was still at the hotel, to see if he could finish setting up for me.

"Where are you going?"

Turning around, I noticed Noah followed me. I gave him a stern look, him already forgetting Matt's orders not to talk.

"You're not supposed to talk," I reminded him.

He rolled his eyes then whipped out his phone and typed something on his notes app before showing me; he asked again where I was going.

"I was going to get you a tea to help soothe your throat," I said, suddenly nervous that the gesture might have seemed too much coming from me.

Noah's mouth curved into a smile and motioned for me to follow, him clearly coming with me.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? There's a line outside, you're bound to be seen."

I'm sure he knew that but I wasn't worried someone would see him alone. I was worried he'd be seen with me. After almost a year working for Bad Omens, I'd done a pretty good job and not to be seen with them out in public. Of course, in group settings, it was harder, with fans snapping pictures of us when we walked around the town, we were sightseeing. But now, alone with Noah, I couldn't fathom what people would say if they saw the two of us. Fans knew I was the merch girl so maybe they'd think we were just grabbing coffee for everyone else.

That's exactly what you're doing. No need to overthink things.

Noah led us out the back where fans weren't allowed and when I told him where the shop was, we began walking in stride there. We didn't speak, the silence something we were used to between us, but every once in a while, our hands would brush together. A spark of heat and electricity shot through me every time. Something I knew Noah felt as well because, at one point, his fingers brushed against the inside of my wrist, on purpose.

As the shop came into view, we noticed there was a small group of people hanging around outside; all wearing Bad Omens merch. The two of us came to a halt, and I peered up at Noah, seeing what he wanted to do. He shrugged before typing something on his phone and showing me the screen.

Can't hurt to talk for a few minutes, right?

I narrowed my eyes at him, debating whether this was a good idea.

"If I get any flak from Matt because I let you talk and your voice gets worse, I'll kick your ass," I pointed at him.

Something dark flashed across Noah's eyes and he licked his lips, typing a new message.

Sounds like a deal, angel.

Ignoring the way my insides burned at the pet name, I told him I would be right back while he socialized with the fans. As I stepped inside, the group of fans started muttering under their breath that 'the Noah Sebastian' was standing right in front of them. The wait for the tea wasn't that long and as I waited, my eyes dared a glance outside to see Noah finishing up taking some pictures with the fans. As if he felt me staring, his eyes locked with mine and gave a small wave.

An action one fan noticed then followed Noah's gaze, landing right on me.

With a start, I turned back to the counter when my name was called and took the tea with a smile. By the time I made it back outside, Noah was alone, leaning up against the wall of the building.

I handed him the tea. "I don't think it will cure you completely but maybe enough for tonight's show."

Noah nodded his thanks and soon we began the short walk back to the venue, in silence. Thankfully, he was not speaking to save his voice because I wasn't sure what we would talk about. Clearly, we were supposed to think what happened that night didn't, and I was glad to do that.

Was I?

I couldn't dwell on the question for long because my phone buzzed in my pocket. Expecting it to be Matt wondering where I ran off to with the vocalist, it surprised me to see my mom calling. She never called me on her phone. When we did talk, which was rare nowadays, it was when Lana called me.

With a soft hand on Noah's forearm, I pulled him to a stop.

"Give me a minute?" I asked.

He nodded, so I took a few steps away to give myself some privacy.

"Mom?" I asked once I answered.

"Yes, I'd like to report a break in."

My heart rate intensified hearing her calm, eerie voice. It wasn't anything I'd heard before which made me wonder what the fuck was going on.

"Mom, it's me. Y/N. What's going on?"

"There's a lady in my house trying to give me medication. I told her I don't need it but she said it'll help me."

I pinched my eyes shut while letting out a shaky breath. I could practically feel Noah's eyes gazing at me but ignored him; right now, my mom needed me.

"Mom, that's Lana. Your nurse," I spoke low into the phone so Noah couldn't hear me. "We've been through this, it will help you."

"NO! She said it will make me go to sleep. I don't want that."

I bit my lip, trying not to break down. It had been a good couple of days for both my mom and I, now everything was slowly turning to shit once again.

"Just take it, alright? For me?" I begged.

"Who are you?"

It wasn't the first time she questioned who I was but every time; it chipped away at my heart. Having your own mother forget who you were was a different kind of pain. There was some rustling on the other end, a struggle almost as I heard Lana grunting and my mom yelling obscenities to her. For a split second, I almost told Noah I had to leave but when Lana's calm voice came through the speaker, it erased that thought from my mind.

"Hi dear," she breathed into the phone. "How are things?"

I scoffed. "Really? That's how you answer the phone? What the fuck is going on?"

"I promise its nothing-."

"I swear to the Gods, Lana if you say its nothing you can't handle I'm going to fucking loose it," I spat through gritted teeth.

Every single phone call, Lana would tell me her version of the day but end it with 'nothing she couldn't handle'. I was tired of hearing it; I demanded to know the truth.

By now, Noah had come around to face me, a wondering spark in his eyes.

"Everything alright?" He mouthed.

I nodded with a sigh before turning slightly away from him.

"It's been a terrible day, dear. Your mother is getting worse, and she really needs to go to a facility where they're better equipt to handle this."

Tears burned in my eyes, and I hastily wiped them away with the back of my hand. This was not a conversation I would have with Lana over the phone.

"I know," I spoke out in a deep breath. "I have a few more weeks left and when I'm home, we can talk about it."

There was a long beat of silence on the other end that I almost checked to see if Lana hung up.

"I really hate bothering you, Y/N. You deserve this time away because of how tired you were from taking care of your mother. You're too young to deal with this on your own."

My heart warmed at Lana's words, and finally, a lone tear rolled over my cheek. Noah reached out with his thumb to brush it away and I instinctively leaned into it, not realizing how badly I needed it.

"I have to go. Whatever happens, no matter the time, please call me."

"Of course, dear."

I stared blankly at the black screen, replaying everything that happened and knowing that eventually I'd have to decide. I kept my mom at home because I thought she would remember things easier, all the memories we made but maybe it was only making things worse for her. I knew I was being selfish letting Lana deal with everything on her own while I was hundreds of miles away living my life.

Would she even let me back to help? She already told me I didn't deserve to deal with it on my own.

"Hey," Noah cupped my cheek. "What's going on?"

His voice was quiet so he wouldn't strain it.

I sniffled while refusing to meet his gaze. Even if he heard the conversation, I wasn't ready to talk about my mom yet; if ever.

"I don't want to talk about it," I shook my head in his grasp. "Please."

His thumb lifted my chin so I had no choice but to look at him as his eyes darted back and forth between mine as if he was searching for something. Eventually, he nodded but kept his grip on my face.

"Alright, but I'm here if you change your mind," he assured me.

"Why? What's different now?"

The question tumbled out of my mouth before I could even stop it. Noah let out a deep sigh before stepping away from me and letting his hand fall from my face.

"I-It's hard to explain."

I chuckled darkly and extended my hands to the side, a silent way of telling him I had the time to listen. But Noah said nothing, only gripped his tea tighter in one hand while the other ran over his face.

"Forget it," I mumbled. "You shouldn't even be talking. Matt would kill me if you lost your voice because of me. Can we just head back to the venue?"

Reluctantly, Noah nodded, and with that, I turned my back to him as I walked away.

A quick yawn fell from my lips as I loaded the last box of merch into the truck. It was a very long night and with his vocal rest and tea, Noah was able to perform tonight; not how he usually does, but no one noticed. Since I had been incredibly busy all night, I didn't have time to think about my mom but now as I walked back inside the venue, I couldn't help but think of her.

Was I a terrible daughter for leaving her?

Would she ever forgive me?

Would she ever remember me?

All the doctors and specialists I spoke to said never to think of that question, it only made things worse in the end. You couldn't dwell on the what ifs or the bad with Alzheimers, you had to relish in the good times.

A warm body slide up to me as I was aimless walking the back halls of the venue and I saw Folio smiling at me.

"I'd figure you left," I said.

"We're all still here having drinks in the green room. We couldn't find you so I came looking," he explained.

I tossed a thumb over my shoulder. "I was packing up the truck."

"Well, I've got some bad news."

That made me pull him to a stop, worry etched deep into my bones. "What is it?"

"Some members of the crew wanted to get a head start to the next city and left already. They were going to ask you if you wanted to go with them but no one could find you. I told them to go ahead, and you'd ride with us. I already grabbed your things from their bus."

I didn't know how to feel. Obviously, I wasn't mad for being left behind and I was thankful Folio thought to grab my things. I did, however, feel apprehensive about being on the same bus as Noah. Now there was nowhere to run. At least at the venues, there was a decent amount of space between us. But the small confines of the tour bus, it was inevitable it would force us to be together. Our little trip to the coffee shop earlier proved that there was still tension between us.

It didn't help that neither of us talked about what happened at the Airbnb.

I gave Folio's hand a squeeze. "Thanks."

"Come on," Folio pulled me along to the green room.

A part of me wanted to fight, the thought of crawling into my bunk on the bus sounded better but I knew right now I needed a distraction. We walked through the door seeing Nick, Jolly, and Noah in the room.

"I feel as if this is a Bad Omens only meeting," I laughed towards Folio.

He simply ruffled my hair before sitting on the couch next to Nick.

Noah was standing in front of a mirror in the room trying to undo his ear in's but he couldn't quite reach so I walked up behind him and removed them for him.

"Thanks," he said while taking them from me.

All I did was nod and was ready to sit on the couch until his hand grasped my wrist, stopping me.

"How are you doing?" Noah asked.

When we came back to the venue earlier, he tried to ask one more time what happened on my phone call but I denied him again.

"I'm fine."

I didn't mean to be cold towards him but I was exhausted after a long day, the last thing I wanted was to be asked if I was alright. I just wanted to forget. So I sat next to Jolly on the couch and actually thought about it when he offered me a beer. I said I drank little, depending on the situation, but after the day I had; more so the year, I accepted the beer with a smile of thanks.

Noah sat on the couch across from me and gave me a look that screamed apprehension.

I took a pretty large drink before setting it on the table in front of me.

"Don't worry, Noah. I won't get drunk and make you carry me back to the bus," the tone in my voice was icy.

Guilt ate away at me because there was no need for me to sound like that but the last thing I needed right now was to be judge. Especially from Noah.

"It's not that," he hesitated, thinking if he should have continued and ultimately decided not too.

I, however, was in a feisty mood so I pressed on. "What is it then? You don't want me drinking on the job?"

"Or is it an embarrasment having me drunk around you guys? Is that why you're holding that night in Chicago over my head."

Noah had a pinched expression, and his shoulders were rigid with annoyance. His knee bounced widely before he abruptly sat up from the couch and walked to the other end of the room, clearly needing a moment to cool off.

I wanted to follow to continue giving him a piece of my mind but Nick held up a hand to stop me.

"Do you even remember what happened in Chicago that night, Y/N?"

"Barley. There was this married guy flirting with me all night and when I found that out, it hit me hard so I drank," I answered Nick.

It was Jolly who spoke next. "Noah found you outside with that guy as he was trying to force you into his car. He claimed the two of you were supposed to head back to your hotel room together."

My face paled realizing what exactly Jolly was saying.

"I definitely did not have plans to go back to my hotel room with him," I informed them.

"Noah knew, so he was able to get you away from that guy," Folio finished.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. That was the reason Noah held a grudge against me for that night. But that made little sense; if he saved me from whatever that asshole had planned, why did it make him so cold towards me?

"Why?" I asked while looking at him.

"You'd think I'd let you get into a car with some random asshole while you're drunk?" Noah snapped.

"No, of course not. But I don't understand why you're holding that night over my head. None of it was my fault," I defended.

Noah's jaw tightened. "I never said it was."

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. Seeing me almost put myself in danger made him so upset with me. I will be the first to admit, when I got drunk I didn't make the best choices. Hence why I decided against drinking all the time. It still didn't excuse the way he acted the way he did, but it explained why. Maybe now we could move past that night and enjoy the rest of the tour without the heated tension.

I stood to my feet and walked into his open embrace, wrapping my arms tightly around his back while laying my head against his chest.

"Thank you," I said softly.

Noah tensed for a moment before his own arms snaked around me, laying his chin on top of my head.

"You never have to thank me, angel."

[smiley-positivity-potato]

when i came out to my father and his wife, it was out of rage, for all transgender and transsexual ppl everywhere- for they were mocking them openly in front of me after they were mentioned on the news. to my father and his wife, we were a joke, a mistake needing to be ridiculed openly for harming no one- they were offended by us being happy. as I sat on their bed, I boiled with rage at the sound of their hackles and open hatred. so in an act of courage and rage, i turned around and said: "You know who else is trans- ME!".

I watched as their realities crumbled. They started hounding me on why. Why did this make me happy? Why did i choose this? Then my father said calmly, with nonchalant: "Well, it just means you'll go to Hell when you die." he wouldn't even look at me.

he didn't say it with disgust or rage or spite. he said it like it was a fact. like he KNEW that i wouldn't go anywhere else- for my father had finally became a pastor. and he thought he could speak for God and all spirits on judgment. I watched as my father folded clothes and said this, busying himself so he wouldn't have to acknowledge me. then his wife stepped in, and she said: "You mind as well put your arm on the stove because that's what Hells gonna feel like.".

She spat this, in reference to me admitting to her how earlier I had recovered from self harm- that included burning. she used my pain against me. but I did not budge. i was proud that i finally could express anger after years of having to hear transgender/transsexual jokes demeaning people who did nothing but try to be happy. i stood up for US.

the next day came, and my father's wife refused to use my new name i legally changed, in front of her nail client. so after the client left, i calmly and politely asked if she could call me my name. i asked and expected respect. i expected communication and hopefully understanding.

then two minutes later, my father came to me and said: "You have to leave. you made her upset and she doesn't want you here anymore. you have to leave NOW." i was shocked, flabbergasted but most importantly, hurt. my father and his wife had been taking half and a lil more of my disability check. they said they'd house me after i was homeless. but in a day, after coming out, things had changed. i was no longer wanted in their home. and my father did not and would not fight for me.

my father tried to joke with me after, as he packed my things. he tried to laugh with me as i called my first stalker to house me for a night because i had barely any money and nowhere to go. and as i felt the last hug i ever truly recognized from my father, I felt nothing. For he no longer was my father, he was a man, a boy, who chose a woman and his wrong beliefs over his child's safety and life. it wasn't the fact that he didn't argue with her that hurt- it was the fact that he didn't leave WITH ME, HIS CHILD. he stayed. for a woman who may not even stay in his life. for she was young, and had options still to choose from.

all because i was a trans man- a transsexual man trying to live his life, despite the discrimination and prejudice i had to face, i was labelled as optional. and then deleted. that day i came out, was the day my father's "love" changed. he openly lies still and says he loves me, but tells me my beliefs are wrong. he constantly tries to convert me to Christianity and his form of toxic love. he still wants and thinks he can change me. and it bothers him that he can't.

the day i stood up for all trans people, was the day my father stopped being on my side. and it is still a day i remember, because it was the day I realized my father didn't know what love was. and so, how could i ever expect him to love me?

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐀

one / masterlist / wattpad

summary: as you adjust to your new life as the Commander's healer, you're forced to watch her fall in love with someone else.

warning/s: mentions of injuries, violence, graphic deaths, the usual stuff that comes with writing for the 100.

author's note: second and final part is here! sorry it’s a little delayed, it’s been a busy one lately! pray i get out of my writing funk bc i miss it so much 😭 anyway, i hope you enjoy this one, i didn’t know how to end it, warning you now lol. Also any mentions of Costia are completely made up based off what i could remember, plus i tried to keep her appearance as vague as possible as she’s technically not got a face claim lol. Enjoy!!

Lexa fell into the role of Commander as if it were her birthright, which I suppose in a way it was.

Nothing fazed her, not the meeting on meeting that filled her days, or the responsibilities now weighing on her shoulders, or even the expectations everyone in the city had for her to be as great a Commander as the last one. She took it all in her stride, performing her duties the best she could. I couldn't have been prouder.

Working with her only made things better for us, since I wasn't sure I'd have seen her as much if I didn't. She was always busy, but she always made time for me. Though she had Titus to go to for guidance, she would still confide in me, a habit I was sure would be difficult to break. I, of course, offered all the help I could. Leading was important to her and she was important to me. What more was there?

It didn't make a difference to me, but clearly Titus thought more of it than I realised. It was a few months into Lexa's new role when he thought to bring it up to me. I was bringing a tray of mine and Lexa's dinner to her quarters one evening, the two of us having planned to eat together, when I saw Titus approaching me in the hall.

"Y/N," he acknowledged with a curt nod and narrowed eyes. "May I speak with you?"

"Right now?" I asked, lifting a brow and glancing at the tray in my hand.

"It won't be long," he assured me, barely giving me chance to reply before he continued, "It's about you and Lexa."

"What about us?"

He seemed mildly irritated as he spoke, "I know that you're a big part of her life, but in the past, you've happened to keep your distance. Now that she's Heda, I expect it to stay that way. No distractions."

I furrowed my brows with confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't follow..."

He tensed his jaw, lowering his voice. "I'm not blind, Y/N. I see the way you care for her."

"Yeah, she's my best friend," I remind him, though a small part of me was nervous at what he was implying.

He wasn't stupid, instead rolling his eyes at my response. "Be sure to keep it that way."

I swallowed hard. "That all?"

"That's all," he said with a hint of annoyance, before walking past me.

My fingers gripped the tray with frustration as I kept walking to Lexa's room. How could he know of my feelings for her? I kept them well hidden for many reasons. And even so, what did he expect from Lexa? To never fall in love? Be married to her work? That was preposterous.

Admittedly, his words had more of an effect on me than I thought, rattling around my brain as I joined Lexa in her quarters.

"...are you alright?" she asked me after accepting her dinner. "You seem distracted."

I blinked, meeting her eyes. It would have been easy to tell her that Titus was being confrontational and rude for no reason. One word and she'd boot him out, no questions asked. But as much as I hated him, he was somewhat good for her, having guided the previous Commander too. Lexa couldn't do this alone, she needed someone with experience. Experience I didn't have. Stirring discontent between them would be for nothing other than a personal vendetta, and a worthless one at that.

No, I couldn't do that.

"Sorry, it's just been a long day," I lied, offering her a small smile. "Bit tired."

"Well, eat your dinner and you can go off to sleep," she said with a soft smile, patting my shoulder.

I nodded, putting her at ease enough for her to dig into her own dinner.

Truthfully, Titus had nothing to worry about. I was too cowardly to make a move anyway.

—

17 years old...

I should have known it would happen eventually. What was I to expect? That she'd stay single forever?

It didn't make it easier to deal with though, especially because the girl in question was absolutely lovely and I couldn't hate her for any reason other than she was with the girl I loved.

Lexa and I were returning to the Tower from a meeting she had at someone's house in the centre of the city when they met. It was a little busier than usual today because of some sales on produce nearby, so we were manoeuvring our way through the crowd. As we did, Lexa accidentally walked right into an oncoming girl, a bit too harshly than intended, and immediately went to apologise.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I–" she started, steadying the stranger, but she stopped short when she looked up.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," the girl apologised, smiling softly, and then her eyes met Lexa's, animated and beautiful and captivating Lexa in an instant. "I should've watched where I was going."

I glanced at Lexa, who was entranced, expression softening and mouth slightly open.

"Who are you?" she asked without thinking. "I haven't see you here before."

"My name is Costia," the girl introduced herself, as captivated by Lexa as she was with her. "I'm from Floukru, but I moved here for a change."

Lexa smiled, putting out her forearm respectfully. "It's nice to meet you, Costia. I'm Lexa."

Costia returned her forearm shake, but then realisation crossed her expression. "Wait, Lexa as in Heda Lexa?"

She was about to kneel, but Lexa stopped her with a chuckle, certainly surprising me. She was already infatuated, it was obvious, and I felt uneasy.

"It's okay, there's no need for that," Lexa assured her with sparkling eyes.

Everything about the way she looked at her to the way she couldn't seem to remember I was even here irked me. She liked her, clearly, and I couldn't blame her. Costia was everything I wasn't. She had the complete opposite features to me, a delicate nature about her, and she wasn't afraid to make her attraction to Lexa obvious.

I gave them space, not that they noticed, and my suspicions were confirmed later that evening when Lexa gushed about her crush on this mystery girl, having asked her out when I left.

The jealousy was poisoning me, but I couldn't blame anyone except myself.

It didn't take long for them to officially get together, to my dismay. And because of this, it meant I spent less time with Lexa because she was spending most of her free time with Costia. Titus didn't take this new development any better than I, looking just as bitter as I felt, though for different reasons.

He made it known to me when we were both in the throne room one time, waiting on the side as Lexa had called us in for our counsel on something, but was first finishing her conversation with Costia. I avoided looking their way, resisting the urge to roll my eyes from nothing other than an innate and unfair jealousy. Titus, however, was glaring holes in their direction.

"I don't like this," he mumbled to me.

I sighed. "I bet."

At this, he tore his gaze from them to glare at me. "You weren't this bad."

"Gee, thanks."

He rolled his eyes. "Costia is going to be a massive distraction."

I glanced at him disapprovingly. "She won't. Lexa is happy. Leave her be."

As if annoyed that I didn't disapprove as he did, he scoffed quietly and crossed his arms, continuing to glare at them.

Unlike him, I couldn't hate on their relationship, not even because I was jealous. Costia was lovely, carefree, kind and she made Lexa happier than ever. Plus, she was nothing short of nice to me every time she saw me. How could I hate that?

—

I thought I was finally getting used to them together, but there were still times when I felt like I'd been replaced, as horribly selfish as it sounded.

With the intention of grabbing Lexa for a meeting, I let myself into her room as I always did, but realised she was sat on the bed and Costia was stood over her.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," I said awkwardly, unsure what I was even interrupting.

As I backed up to leave, Costia stepped to the side to reveal Lexa with war paint swiped across her eyes.

"Doesn't she look daring?" Costia said with a proud smile, paint in her hand.

Despite the bittersweet feeling of it all, I couldn't help but smile at Lexa. "Of course."

Lexa returned my smile and stood up, before saying to Costia, "It was actually Y/N who first put this on for me. When we were kids. And then it just... stuck."

The memory was as fresh as ever, leaving me with a sour taste in my mouth. Oh, how things had changed since then.

"You had the right idea," Costia told me sweetly, before looking to Lexa with adoration. "It looks great."

I swallowed hard, forcing a smile. As they gazed at each other, I felt like a third wheel and decided to leave.

"What did you need, Y/N?" Lexa called before I could.

"Just grabbing you for the meeting, but I'll meet you in the throne room," I said nonchalantly.

She smiled, nodding. "Okay. See you in a minute."

Deflated, I left. Just another thing to get used to.

—

19 years old...

The scream was ear-piercing, strained with utter horror and ricocheting off the Tower walls. I woke with a fright, jumping out my skin. I didn't even need to be told – I knew who it was immediately and my heart squeezed into nothingness as I left my bed and hurried down the hall where Lexa's quarters were.

The guards that watched the halls were too slow for my liking, trailing behind me like lost lambs. I took the lead, concerned and confused and uneasy as I pushed her doors open. I feared what I'd find.

Lexa was who I saw first, on the floor in her nightgown as if she'd just gotten out of bed, leaning back on her hands and trembling so much I thought she'd shatter.

"Lexa!" I rushed to her side, kneeling down with worry. "What is it? What's wrong?"

In all my life, I'd never seen her afraid, not like this, and certainly not enough to elicit a scream like she had. What could it be?

I followed her tear-filled gaze, noticing a box at the foot of her bed. Reluctantly, I let go of her and approached the box, and it was a sight I'd never forget.

There sat Costia'a head, lifeless eyes forced open and fresh blood still staining her beheaded neck.

My hand came to my mouth immediately and I looked away, afraid I'd throw up if I didn't. I caught the glaring symbol on the inside of the box though – the symbol of Azgeda, Lexa's biggest enemy – and knew who was responsible.

The guards were just as taken aback as I was, freezing by the door when they noticed the head. Lexa's sobs pulled me from my momentary shock and I immediately looked to the guards with as much confidence as I could muster. They couldn't see their Commander falter like this, not if I could help it.

"What are you waiting for?!" I shouted at them. "Remove this now!" As they jumped at my words, and eventually into action, I continued, "And find out who broke in here last night! Up the security!"

They nodded frantically, carefully taking the box out of there and leaving Lexa and I alone. I returned to her side, where she was still staring at the spot where the box was, glassy eyes widened with horror.

"Lexa, I'm sorry," I said, pulling her in for a hug, hating the way she trembled. "I'm so sorry."

Her sobs were silenced in my shirt and she clutched me so tightly I was sure I'd have bruises, but I didn't care. I was still in utter shock, unable to believe Costia was dead at the hands of Azgeda. I knew we'd had tension with them for a while now, all because their queen didn't trust Lexa in power, but I never thought they'd stoop this low.

Costia deserved better... so did Lexa.

—

She wasn't the same after that. I couldn't blame her. Finding someone you loved, beheaded, at the foot of your bed? When you'd only just kissed them goodnight the night before? It was traumatising. Hell, it still haunted me!

We held a funeral, but Lexa didn't shed another tear after the morning she found her. She was much quieter, much more closed off, as if numb to the whole situation. Even when I visited her after the funeral, concerned for her well-being, she told me to leave. I didn't want to, but maybe space was what she needed, so I obeyed.

There were no leads on how the box was delivered, nor who delivered it. The guards were still searching, making enquiries, but it seemed futile. Horrifyingly enough, Costia's body was never found, so we could only burn the head. It was disgusting, the emotional warfare Azgeda were playing on Lexa.

Costia had nothing to do with any of this, she'd only been unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And it was something Lexa never forgave herself for.

The girl I'd come to know as easygoing and full of life was gone, completely replaced by this shell of a person. At first, she was isolating herself from everyone, only throwing herself into her duties and responsibilities as Heda. It took a long several months for her to fully grieve Costia, for her to finally open up to me again, but she wasn't the same.

I couldn't recall the last time I'd seen her smile or laugh. It was as if her happiness had died with Costia and I understood why, but I hated seeing her like that.

We were in archery practice one day, the two of us sometimes training together like old times. I was growing tired, looking forward to when it would end so we could do something a little more fun.

"Do you wanna go for a swim after this?" I asked her, the idea coming to me at that moment. "In the lake, like we used to?"

She didn't spare a glance my way as she lined up her next shot. "I have more important matters to attend to, Y/N."

"C'mon, it'll be fun," I said encouragingly as she let the arrow fly through the air, finding the centre of the target with ease. "It's warm out and the lake will be refreshing."

"No," she said simply, going to collect her arrow.

I sighed quietly, watching her with a concerned gaze. Gently, I spoke, "Look, I know it's been hard, but I'm here for you and I think that, maybe, not working as hard might make this–"

"What?" she interrupted harshly, finally looking at me, though with a fiery glare. I jumped at volume of her voice, not expecting it. "Easier? How? How can it be easier when Azgeda are plotting to overthrow me every single day? How will a dip in the lake fix that?!"

I swallowed awkwardly, unsure what to say. It felt stupid now.

"We're not kids anymore," she reminded me with a sneer.

I frowned. "I know. Sorry. I don't mean–"

"You're forgiven," she cut me off, looking away with a clenched jaw. "End of discussion."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as she returned to her stance before the target, lining up another shot. And just like that, we were back to archery.

—

21 years old...

It was supposed to be a simple rescue mission. In and out of Azgeda's prison camps, rescuing our people and leaving before they'd even notice.

But everything went wrong when they caught us escaping.

Arrows were flying, swords were wielded and, in the midst of chaos, I saw that a few of our own were struck down. We needed to leave, fast.

Those of us who could mounted their horses, prisoners with them, and raced out of there whilst a few stayed back to buy us time. Lexa was one of them, mounting her horse and taking a few of Azgeda's soldiers out on the way. I was close behind, the last of our party to leave, and pushed my horse as fast as I could. Unfortunately for me, before I could even make it out of the snowy lands of Azgeda's territory, a loose arrow caught my horse's front leg and I went flying forward as a result.

The wind was knocked from me as I landed face first in the snow, the cold already seeping through my clothes and my whole body aching from the fall. But I couldn't stay put for long, already hearing someone on my tail.

It took me a lot of effort to push myself off the ground, finding my sword which had luckily not impaled me on the fall. As soon as I turned around, I saw one of the Azgeda prison guards hurtling towards me, his own sword raised as he let out a battle cry. I held my ground, grip tightening on my sword, and immediately blocked his swing as he came at me.

Luckily for me, my sword fighting had much improved over the years, mostly due to Lexa's constant need for training, and it aided me in this fight as I blocked every swing from my opponent. He was large and strong, albeit slow, so at my best opportunity, I parried his swing and used the power of it to go around him, stabbing him through the back.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I yanked my sword out, watching him collapse in the snow. My success was short lived however, as I heard barking from behind me and turned around a second too late. A wild dog – one of the ones the Azgeda army trained for battle – raced through the trees and leapt on me, going straight for my leg.

I screamed as its sharp teeth sunk right into my calf, at the orders of its owner who was approaching us but only watching as I struggled. Instinctively, I swung my sword, but the dog was merely inconvenienced, moving back to bark at me before leaping at me again. This time, I was knocked backwards into the snow, dropping my sword. It reattached its teeth to my leg, piercing flesh and bone and oblivious to my weak attempts at kicking it away. I felt like I couldn't breathe, the pain too strong to even acknowledge.

Suddenly, an arrow flew through the air, landing right in the dog's head and killing it instantly. It didn't matter to me though – my leg felt like it was in tatters and I was starting to see spots in my vision. Not even the cold of the snow was a bother to me anymore – I could have been dipped in fire at that moment and known no difference.

"Y/N!" someone shouted after me.

My people had returned, dismounting their horses as they fought off the Azgeda stragglers, including that wretched dog's owner.

Lexa was with them, having come back to my aid. She let her people deal with the remaining Azgeda soldiers, instead coming to my side with a concerned look. Her eyes glanced between me and my leg and, judging from her expression, it wasn't great.

"I need help over here!" she yelled to her solders.

Two members of our party rushed to my side, attempting to carry me, but even the slightest bit of movement had me screeching in agony.

"Be gentle!" Lexa ordered, and they were suddenly less rough. She took my hand, squeezing it gently. "You're gonna be okay. We're going home."

All I could manage was a weak nod, tears burning my eyes.

We must have made it back to Polis, though I couldn't be sure it was without disruption as I passed out not long after they placed me on a horse.

When I awoke, I recognised the healer's room at the Tower, though it felt strange being the one in the bed rather than the healer. I couldn't remember why I was here, still in a daze, and then I heard a sigh of relief and looked to my right to see Lexa standing up, touching my cheek with relief.

It was unusual seeing the tears down her cheeks and her red, puffy eyes staring down at me. She hadn't cried this much since Costia died years ago. Was I hurt that bad?

"What happened?" I asked tiredly, not quite adjusting to the aches and pains in my body.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," she said with a watery voice. "I should've got to you sooner."

Got to me sooner...?

And then it came back to me. Our people. Azgeda. The dog. My leg.

My eyes widened as I put Lexa's words together with what I remembered and then I was quick to try and sit up to see if my leg was okay, but Lexa tried to stop me.

"Y/N, just wait–"

"Let go!" I shouted, shoving her off long enough to finally see what I feared.

My lower left leg was gone. All that remained was a bloody, bandaged stump, ending at my knee. I could barely believe what I was looking at, eyes watering at the sight.

"It was the only way," she said regretfully. "It was badly infected and the bites were too deep. They couldn't save it."

Her words went in one ear and out the other. All I could see was the spot where my leg used to be.

"It's gone," I whispered, voice trembling.

Her hand rested on my shoulder gently. "Y/N..."

I touched my knee and then the spot after it, where my calf should've been. And then I felt something break inside of me and the tears finally fell.

Lexa sat beside me, pulling me into her chest and holding me tightly. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm here."

But it wasn't okay, was it? Nothing was okay.

—

The next few days were some of the hardest I'd endured.

Lexa stayed by my side the whole time, only leaving to bring me food or see the healers looking after me. I couldn't bear to look at her, nor my father, who stopped by regularly too.

Everything was so futile to me. Without my leg, I would never walk the same again. And how would I continue to be a combat medic if I couldn't even stand? How could I work at Lexa's side? I was useless. And I couldn't stand it.

My feelings left me in a pit of depression, my appetite gone and my will to recover completely absent. I couldn't see a future where I'd feel like myself again, and no matter who was there to support me, I refused their help.

I was sulking yet again, staring at the wall and soaking in my own misery since there was nothing else to do. Lexa had left to get me some food and, truthfully, I was glad. Her constant worrying and fretting at my side was doing nothing to help.

The logical part of me was grateful she cared, but the emotional part won over and I seriously hated having her around right now, not when I couldn't think straight about anything other than my missing leg.

My momentary peace was interrupted when Lexa returned, tray of food in hand which she set on the table beside my bed.

"It's time to eat something, Y/N," she said softly, hand resting on my hand, but I snatched it away.

Ignoring her, I continued to stare at the wall ahead, void of feeling.

"Y/N, please, you have to eat," she said, unfazed by my mood.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I purposely looked to the left, away from her, hoping she'd get the hint. Of course, she didn't.

"Don't be like that," she said, a little sterner this time, and it infuriated me because why couldn't I be like that? Who was she to tell me otherwise?

"I can do what I want," I snapped at her with a glare. "I'm not hungry, so just leave me alone already."

Her lips twitched into a slight frown, but she didn't move. "You're not going to get better if you don't eat," she said firmly.

"Get the damn hint and go away! I don't need your help!" I said bitterly.

She swallowed hard, green eyes flickering between mine with an unreadable expression, before leaving the room. I glared a hole into the space where she left, eyes burning with tears, and was overcome by an immediate guilt.

It was easier to push her away now, as much as it hurt to do so. At least this way she wouldn't notice how much of a burden I would become. Cripples had no place working under the Commander, best friend or not. And I wasn't sure I could handle being fazed out by Lexa in time.

Despite how awful the whole situation was, I couldn't bring it in myself to face her. She tried to return after my outburst, but I made sure Nyko refused her entry. I was surprised it worked, considering she was the Commander and could do whatever she wanted. She still found her way back in over the course of the next week, but I continued to ignore her, wanting her to lose interest on her own and stop visiting me.

I should have known trying to get Lexa to do anything was impossible though, as when she showed up once more, ignoring my request through Nyko to leave me alone, she had a whole speech prepared.

"I said I didn't want to see you,"  I mumbled tiredly upon noticing her walk in without warning.

She ignored me and stopped by my bed. "You don't get to request that."

I rolled my eyes, my usual self-deprecating attitude written all over my face. But unlike the past few weeks, she wasn't accepting it anymore.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" she suddenly shouted, surprising me.

I finally looked to her, surprised to see her shooting me a fiery glare.

"I almost lost you, don't you see that?" she continued, giving me no chance to respond. "I watched you bleed all over the bed as they assessed the damage. Watched as you came to and from consciousness, as they cut off your leg. They thought you were going to die from the blood loss. And now you're okay and what? You're pushing me away?! For what? Pride?!"

I pressed my lips together, tensing my jaw, face hot with shame and self-pity.

"Well, I refuse," she said decisively. "I'm staying and you can't get rid of me. No matter how many times you try to tell Nyko."

Even as I closed my eyes, I could feel tears welling up. Why was she so stubborn?

Her voice cracked as she continued, "They're moving you back to your room tomorrow."

I looked away, unsure what to say, and then she took my hand between hers and I couldn't bring it in myself to pull away. Admittedly, I craved the comfort, though I didn't deserve it. Not after how I'd treated her.

"I'm not leaving your side," she repeated, less angry and more concerned.

It only reminded me why I was acting like this in the first place.

"For now," I said, voice hoarse.

She blinked. "What?"

Narrowing my eyes, I finally looked to her, speaking more clearly. "For now. You'll be here for now and then you'll get busy with Heda responsibilities, and then you'll realise I can't work with you anymore because I can't even walk. And then you'll get busier and busier and realise I'm just a damned burden and then you'll leave. And I won't blame you one bit, but it'll happen."

Her expression softened. "How can you say that?"

Embarrassed, I let go of her hand and wiped away a stray tear, looking away. "Because it's true. We're not kids anymore, remember? You don't owe me a thing."

"You're such a fool."

I scoffed, crossing my arms. How could she say that when she'd spent the last few years an emotionless wreck because of Costia's death, only ever putting her job first?

"No, you are," she disagreed. "You think I'd just push you away like that?"

"Yes," I said simply, looking down at my bed covers. "Love is weakness. Isn't that what you've been saying?"

"I thought that," she admitted, "but it's not. Not with you."

I rolled my eyes.

"I thought I lost you and I didn't," she said gently, considerately. "That's worth something. Because..." She paused, hesitant, then continued, "...because I'm in love with you."

She said it so nonchalantly that I had to truly digest her words, and even then I couldn't believe them.

With disbelief, I glanced at her. "What?"

She was trembling slightly, surprising me, and began to nod. Her eyes were glassy as they met mine. "I am. I can't lose you too."

For a moment, I saw the old Lexa, the one who I'd known most of my life, before Azgeda ruined her, and it broke my heart.

"Lexa...," I started, but didn't know what to say.

"You're not a burden," she told me with certainty. "Those one love never are."

I struggled to find words, heart beating exceptionally fast as she maintained eye contact. She loved me? After all this time, the girl I fell in love with loved me too? What?

"Please don't say I've ruined everything," she whispered, hopeless.

Remembering to move, I quickly shook my head, though my mind was still reeling. "You haven't. You–"

She cut me off with a kiss, pressing her lips to mine eagerly. She kissed me like she'd been waiting to forever, hands curling around my face and nose brushing against mine as she tilted her head to the side. I kissed her back, melting into her with ease and acutely aware of how perfect she felt against me.

I still couldn't catch up to what was happening, not even as she pulled back slightly, breathless and meeting my gaze. She didn't speak, as if waiting for my reaction before she could do anything.

"Are you sure?" was all I could say, stunned.

She nodded slowly.

I licked my lips. "Good. Because I'm in love with you too, Lexa."

Her lips curved into a small smile, eyes darting between mine, before she kissed me again.

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

I Swear To You

Frank Castle x Reader Requested:

Hello my lovely writer, I'm in great need of some protective care taking fluffy angsty Frank Castle fic. And so I was wondering if you are interested in my request =) please let me know what you think. Frank has a cute new neighbor. They ended up talking a lot, Frank even flirting with her, but doesn't have the guts to make a move. One evening she was on a date which went sideways. The creep drugged her. As she notices something is wrong she snuck out of the bar calling a taxi to go home as fast as she can. He manhandled her as he notices she waiting for a taxi but she makes it home... She barely made it to pay the driver as she stumbled to her door to out if it from her spiked drink, so she isn't able to open her door let alone find her key. She collapses at Sehr front door, lying in the Cola night (maybe she hit her head pretty badly when going down). Frank comes home and finds her in feoneof her door. She's hypothermic and he notices her weird state and knows instantly she was drugged. So he takes care of her and her wounds and tries to warm her up. He nurses her back the next days

I hope you like it and thanks for requesting, and sorry for pushing this out for too long.

TW: Mentions of dru-gs, mentions of SA, puking, a terrible man doing terrible things

Frank was a goner. The moment he spotted you at the end of the hallway, gently balancing on your high heels, dress hugging your curves perfectly, hair and makeup done like you were ready to walk the red carpet, he knew he messed up. He messed up when he let his facade fall, and let you see the real him. Or part of him. Nothing was out of place, he came back from work, catching your right opposite of his door, going to a walk, to get a coffee, to meet up with your friends. You greeted him just the same, but your smile was giddy, a little bit too wide for a regular day.

He was oblivious to a lot of things, but even he could see that you are going to a date. And the guy is pretty fucking lucky tonight. He could see you wanted to impress, and you already won, because he was fascinated. He took sneaky glances, tried to act casual when you eyes spotted him walking towards you, shoulders heavy with a long ass day behind him. You greeted him as usual, asked about his day as usual, but he just couldn't act like usual. He had to acknowledge how beautiful you looked, and he did just that. A compliment, then a hidden question to confirm his suspicion. Your hips swayed as you walked away from him, giggling at his compliment, dissepearing into the night.

He was in deep. Too deep.

*

You had a good time, the best since a while. He was charming, charismatic, a kind face with a killer smile. Smooth talk, lingering touches. He was literally perfection. He really was.

As the night progressed, your glass never emptied out fully, he made sure you had plenty to drink. You didn't think much of it, his glass was the same, always full, often smiling into the golden liquor that grazed his lips. You ate, but surely not enough for the amount of drinks you consumed. How much did you really drink? You couldn't recall when your vision started to feel so tunnel like, or how your head felt heavy like a brick strapped to it. The more you felt it, the often his smile faltered.

First you thought you were just tired, haven't ate enough, that's why you are being a lightweight now. But in the back of your mind something told you it wasn't that. You only drank wine, wine that most of the time brought the frizzy numbness to you and the giggles out from you, meanwhile right now, you feel like you drank an entire cupboard of alcohol.

He is closer now. Pulled his chair next to you sometime you don't remember happening, if you saw it, you already forgot it. His breath fanning you ear as he speaks to you, something along the lines of going home, having a good time, taking it somewhere more private.

You wonder if you can walk to the restroom, or even stand up on your feet. You never had to wonder. Alcohol never made you think you physically can't move your body as you want. Panic have settled in your bones, silently urging you to do something. Anything, just to get away from him. You felt his fingers grazing your thigh, pushing your dress higher with every stroke, his voice still murmuring into your ear, although you cannot understand what he's saying.

You excuse yourself, trying to mimic you half an hour ago self. Flirty and joyful, you try to laugh it off, telling him you have to freshen up, telling that you have to pee badly, giggling while admitting it. You must act good, because when you slip off the chair, his warmth doesn't follow, nor his voice. You heart is beating rapidly in your chest, probably the only thing that you can concentrate on to not fall face first to the ground.

You are so fucking hopeful you walk somewhat towards to restroom, so he doesn't realize you are figuring your way out of the place.

A cute face emreges in front of you, your body oddly colliding with the person, you hands flying up to steady yourself on their shoulder. You would be so embarrassed if you were sober. It's a waitress, asking you if you are alright, honest concern in her voice.

You mumble something out, praying it makes sense and she'll know what you need.

"You want to go home? Want us to call a taxi?" She asks with a comforting voice. "Do you need us to call someone?"

Frank's name comes to mind first, and you silently scold yourself for never asking for his number.

"Hmmm, no."

"Let us call a taxi, yeah love?" She says, gently pushing your body forward with her hands eloping you in a side hug. Everything is blurry, your vision only picking up bits and parts of the world around.

You were more than sure that he put something in your drink. If your body wasn't so numb, you would be an erratic mess right now. Your senses are limited, everything comes and goes like a dream. You are not even afraid what he had put in your drinks, you just want to get away from him far away enough so he cannot talk the sweet lady out of helping you. You momentarily feel the cold breeze outside before the early winter air hits you in full force, the cold easing your flaming skin.

"HEY, excuse me. Where are you taking her?" The hair stands up on your whole body from his voice. Sweet, hidden malicious. "No i won't take a step back, where are you taking my girlfriend? Honey look at me!"

You don't have anything in you to respond. You just want to go home.

"Sir you need to leave her alone."

Hushed voices follows movement, softly pushing and pulling you around. Where is your purse? Did you left there at the table? You have your phone and wallet in it, you'll need that.

"My purse, my phone.." You mumble, feeling your body lowered to a flat surface.

"It's in your hands love, take care." The lady says, her voice is distant. You squeeze your hand, feeling a tiny little strap in your palm confirming your fingers are locked on your bag. You barely feel the material on your skin.

"Where to?" Your eyes go wide with a new voice calling out. You are getting comfortable at the back of a taxi, an older man looking at you, waiting for an answer, the dim light up on the car's ceiling giving him a really bad angle.

You hear yourself telling him the address, the sound is like someone else and not you. The car goes smoothly, at least that's how you feel it, the seats smell funny, and the lights outside paints a weird image through the windows, your head's starts to spin as you can't comprehend your surrounding no more. You just wish the taxi driver is kind enough to lead you to your door.

You wished and you were so wrong. He calls out to you plenty of times before you manage to get out of the car, almost tripping over your own feet while doing so, trying to give him money for the ride.

And that's it, the car speeds off behind you, leaving you trembling on the sidewalk. Just a few steps right? That's all it takes to get to your apartment.

Your body sways with each drag of your legs, barely standing up. How you manage to get to your door? You don't know, probably will never know. But you eventually do, legs giving out right in front of it, landing on your knees with a sharp pain then ending up on your butt, the ice cold ground burning your skin where it connects.

Your body gives in to the drug in your system, turning the world to black.

*

He took a peaceful walk to the nearest diner, a place he and you are very fond of, often bumping to each other there, one of those times you said yourself how you love the oldschool vibe and the quiet there. Frank only grabbed a coffee to go, the couple of minute walk clearing his messy head, head that is filled to the brim with thoughts of you. It's rare to him, to have something else on his mind than his family or blood rage and revenge. It's refreshing and terrifying. When he left, you weren't home yet, almost two hours after you waved goodbye to him, and he started to feel restless. Two hour isn't too much for a first date? He wouldn't know, even back in the day he wasn't the guy who took girls to a date. His parents raised him old fashioned, but he usually liked the simpler things. Car rides, walks with deep talks, cheap picnic with soda and snacks. So what does he knows about fancy restaurant dates?

It's cold, too cold for the tiny dress you were dressed in, but he would take you home right? He would take you home, making sure you walk in your front door, seeing it close behind you before leaving. But that's him, and he knows for sure not every man thinks like that.

The coffee warming his palm, giving him some sort of comfort to his uneasiness, his eyes searching for the familiar door when he takes a turn to your street.

No lights up yet? Now he's worried. You might went home with him. It's possible, you are a beautiful grown woman, who probably knows very well what she wants. But his jaw clenches nevertheless at the thought. His eyes dart away in shame, knowing he has no right to be mad at you for having a good time.

His head snaps back so quick it hurts his neck, in the corner of his eyes a big dark spot in front if your door that wasn't there before. He blinks for a few times to make sure it's not just his brain tricking him into some illusions. His mind failed him before, showing him terrible things that weren't really there, but the rapid beating of his heart and the pounding in his head is a signal of the familiar danger he encountered so many times before. The type of feeling in his gut when he knows the worst is coming.

And nothing could have prepared him for your frozen body on the freezing ground. In your tiny dress, exposed skin sticking to the concrete, the contains of your purse scattered around.

His instinct kicks in with full force, his hands fumbling for a pulse under your skin. He checks your wrist and neck before pulling your numb body up to his embrace, without thinking twice about who might see him taking you into his apartment. God knows how did you end up there, and he's not risking it if your date shows up at your door, finishing what he had started.

Because why else would you be lying knocked out in front of your home, why couldn't you get in, why else would you loose consciousness if not because of a doing of a horrible piece of shit man?

He is a man on a mission. Something he felt ages ago, and now it's welcomed with a sense of purpose and a sharp sting in his heart.

You are terribly cold in his hands, and he has to hush the voice in his mind that tells him the worst possible outcome.

He rushes to his bed, putting you down on his sheets gently, fingers trembling as he pulls your damp dress off of you, at this point he can't bothered that you are nearly naked in his bed, this isn't how he imagined it. He rushes off, his boots heavy on the creaking wooden floor, looking for the warmest clothes he has in his mostly empty wardrobe. It's a hoodie and sweatpants he comes up with, the best he can offer.

He knows you'll be greatly embarrassed when you come to your senses, so when he removes your undergarments, he tries to do it as respectfully as it's possible. One clothing off and another on, your icy skin burning under his warm hands, the sensation leaving a bad taste in his mouth. A reminder that he has a bastard to find after you are recovered.

His mind is racing, the loud thump in his ears slowly quieting down as he checks for your pulse again, cursing himself that he doesn't have a damn thermometer. He should have called an ambulance, he thinks. But god knows how much time they need to get here, if they ever. He's being selfish. But you are in good hands, he wants to think you are okay with him.

He's greatful for his years in the military, now more than ever. When it comes to himself, he's tactical and precise but numb. Any wound he stitched up and treated is decent enough, but nothing more. His own discomfort and pain is a welcomed guest. But right now it's not his body that is in pain, and he's not allowed to be careless and emotionless. You are wrapped up in his bed, safe and sound, but it's nothing to soothe his nerves.

He grabs a towel from the bathroom, the exact same of the pretty set you gave to him a couple of weeks ago when you saw his own torn up one, insisting he needs it way more than your wardrobe where you kept it since buying them. He gently lifted your head from the soft pillow, neatly covering your damp hair in it, your soft breaths music to his ears, he leans closer, just to confirm you are breathing evenly.

He considers for moment before deciding to open your eyes with his fingertips, his suspicion is confirmed by your blown pupils, the color of your eyes barely visible from the blackness of it. He sighs, rage and anger coursing through his veins, tempting him to get up and find the fucker. It would be easy, so easy. But you need him more than he needs to ease the bloodlust.

Just now he realizes he is still in his coat, sweat glistening on his forehead, his body hot under the layers he should get rid of, dirty boots tainting the already year long stained flooring of his apartment.

He glances over to you, a last conformation you are okay before he himself changes from his street clothes.

He doesn't mean to overstep, but when he goes back to you, and you body is just as cold as when he found you outside, his mind is set. He carefully slips in to the bed, he himself isn't sure how he manages to get under you, he searches for the best way for his body to give off it's heat to you. So you are now trapped between his legs, back laying heavily on his abdomen, hair tickling his bare skin. It's more intimate Frank anticipated, but to be honest, he wasn't debating about it much before doing what his brain told him to do. He would change his mind about the position if he couldn't feel your body soaking up his warmth. It's satisfying, how you take unconsciously, and he's basking in the feeling of giving. It's been so long since he was able to serve gently, in a quiet manner. Like when he ruffled his son's hair, or put the school bag on his daughter back. Or how he played with a single strand of Maria's hair, putting it behind her ear.

So his hands pulls you closer, every part of you hugged by his body, giving and giving everything he has to offer.

*

Your head hurts. No, not hurts, splits into two, even more when your eyes open with a painful sharp feeling behind them. You would groan if your throat would let it slip past the desert that's inside. The rest in your bones mixing with various aches under your skin, and the comfort around isn't enough to reach your body. You are tempted to back to sleep, sure another hours wouldn't hurt, before you mind clears up, shaking the sleep out of you.

It hits you like a lightning. What day is it really? What day was yesterday?

You shot up, dizziness almost pulling you back down with a terrible feeling in your stomach. Before you could comprehend anything that's happening, something is held to your face where soon you empty out the contains of your stomach. A soothing hand appears on your back, trying to keep your hair there while you puke your literal life out. Sweet words reach your ears when your traumatized body calms a little bit down.

"You are alright, sweetheart." It's Frank's voice. "How you feelin'?"

Your grimace, disgust being the only thing you are feeling besides every ache of your body. "It's okay, darlin'. Just breath, let it out if you have to."

You look sideways, seeing him half naked, his body so close you can feel his warmth radiating towards your trembling body. He's concerned face is looking for something in yours, perhaps panic that why he is here with you, or the fact, that you aren't in your own room, or apartment, or why are you wearing his clothes that hangs on you loosely. There is an explanation for it, you know that, and you don't have the will or the energy to be panicked. Despite these thoughts, you heart beats out of your chest, hearing your blood rushing in your ears.

"What happened?" You ask. If you are with him, he's having all the answers. What is the last thing anyway that you remember? You getting ready? Was it yesterday? Your date. You don't remember your date. It's daytime right now, so it's surely passed.

Maybe it's too apparent on your face how you put together the pieces in your head, or he's just panicking at how you are starting to panic that you don't realize. Your shaking body is fumbling with the duvet around you, eyes snapping to Frank then to your surroundings, frantic with your every move. Like an animal cornered.

"Hey hey hey..You are alright! Look at me darling! Look at me." He forces you to look in his eyes, warm and safe, attention seeking. "You were drugged last night, but you are okay, you hear me? You'll have a hell of a day today, but it's gonna pass. Nothing happened, okay? He did nothing to you."

It's sincere. Everything he says he believes. How does he know?

"How..?"

"You know how, sweetheart. Let me get you some water okay? Get back in bed." He commands, leaving you on the side of the bed. So he is Frank Castle after all. You had you suspicion for a while, and you might asked too risque questions he caught on. How does this makes you feel? Kind of relieved, and grateful? You are grateful that your neighbor is a cold-blooded killer?

"There you go. Drink slowly, okay?" He murmurs, a black t-shirt now covering his upper body. You take careful sips, eyeing the man next to you without shame. He does the same, watching intently with so much comfort in his eyes.

"I don't remember anything." You voice is defeated, drained even without using it for hours now.

"I know, i'm sorry." Tears are threatening to fall as your mind tries to navigate the information that you have been drugged.

"What if he.."

"Nonononono, look at me! He did nothing to you. He put it in your wine, let you have too many drink, but he did no more than that!"

You nod. Accepting it. He's the Punisher after all.

He takes your hand in his, planting a faint kiss on top on your knuckles. "You are safe, i swear to you."

You are safe with him.

[madlittlecriminal]

[06] Secret Ingredient⥓ Mafia!Miguel O'Hara × Female!Baker!Reader

Warnings: mention of vomit (kind of), is this short? possibly & im sorry

series masterlist | miguel o'hara masterlist

The offer; it occupied his mind after the meeting to the point where his lunch was climbing back out of his stomach.

The last thing he wanted was to marry Dana.

Miguel had no love for her.

Especially, not now when most of the time his thoughts were occupied by the pretty baker, and his heart raced a marathon when he saw you.

God, he wanted to hug you right now. He needed your reassurance. He needed you.

But you weren't his.

And he wasn't yours.

He took a deep breath as he rubbed his temples. Miguel had to find a loophole for this arrangement.

He didn't want his first marriage to be forced or with a woman he didn't love. No, he wasn't going to learn to love her either because he did once, and it ended with them breaking up because she got greedy.

He couldn't imagine what she would do if she had the money from his family. He wouldn't be surprised if she tried to gain control over his businesses like she once did.

Miguel couldn't bare it.

Dana didn't deserve his money, his businesses, his mind, his heart, or his body.

But you...

He relaxed as your face flashed through his mind.

He hardly knew you, but his gut said you deserved it all.

You could ask him for anything, and he'd get it for you without a second thought; everything that was his, would be yours.

He loosened his tie before running a hand through his hair. He wanted to find a way out of this, but didn't know how to do it.

I mean, he couldn't say he got a girlfriend within a few hours when he was speechless for the meeting, and didn't mention anything about it. Right?

Right?!

Miguel grabbed his phone.

----

You flipped your sign as your day finally came to an end with a sigh. To say the day was rough was an understatement.

After you came back from your break with Patrick, he left for an interview, and your day was busy with last minute orders that customers came to order in a rush.

You were confused as to how a son forgot his mother's birthday, he, unfortunately, wasn't the first son to do so; you don't necessarily keep track of how many, but you knew he wasn't the first person to forget their parents' birthday, let alone the first son to forget his mother's birthday.

You wouldn't blame him since you knew it was normal. Plus, you gave him the benefit of the doubt since he remembered her favorite color was periwinkle.

You grabbed the box of Danish pastries and headed to the club to deliver them.

Surprisingly, it was a request; they never requested anything, so you happily made them

When you entered the club, you raised a brow at how empty it was.

Even if the day wasn't the busiest, there would always be people here.

"Sorry. I had to talk to you."

Your eyes darted up to the balcony of the club that you knew was a private section; more private than the VIP lounge downstairs near the bar.

"Ruby," you acknowledged with his nickname you gave him, causing him to chuckle.

"Please, Miguel is fine."

You shrug. "Ruby is better." You tilted your chin up to the ruby colored glasses, one of its arms tucked into his breast pocket.

The music was playing faintly in the background, as he scanned you. You tilt your head to the side as you placed the box down on the bar.

"Where's everyone else?" You asked, still feeling his eyes on you.

"I gave them the night off and closed the club."

"Is it really closed?"

He snickered. "I unlocked it when I saw you closing up. Plus, Lyla put out an announcement on our website that we were closed. Word goes around pretty fast."

You gave him a glare before he made his way down the staircase and towards you.

"Did you purposely want to meet with me?"

He gave you a nod. "I did. This is about your bakery."

"My bakery?"

"Yes."

Miguel doesn't mix business with pleasure.

"So, you closed your club, requested Danish pastries, and waited for me to have a business meeting?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, when you put it like that, I guess so."

Was it just a business meeting? Not for him.

"Fine," you sighed out. "Next time, don't be so mysterious about it and ask me, okay?"

He gave you a nod before taking a Danish pastry. The milk glaze of the pastry decorated his lips, causing you to pluck a napkin from the bar and handing it to him.

At this moment, he wished it was your thumb or even your lips.

Screw the business or pleasure.

He wanted both with you.

He wanted all or nothing with you.

~~~~

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