#LET ME HAVE THIS BEFORE I GET TAKEN BY A TORNADO

[roanofarcc]

A LITTLE LIFE

pairing. tyler owens x fem!reader

summary. when a storm tyler is chasing changes course, putting you and your daughter in the direct line of danger, tyler drops everything to reach you. 

warnings. established relationship, descriptions of injuries, reader gets hurt, angst w/happy ending.

word count. 2.7k || masterlist

You watched as Tyler slung his overnight bag over his shoulder and patted his pockets to ensure he had everything he needed for his latest storm-chasing adventure. 

“Are you sure you have everything? Did you pack your charger? Because-” Your husband cut you off with a gentle chuckle. 

“It was the first thing I packed,” he said. The one time he had let his phone die while on a chase nearly sent you into cardiac arrest. He hadn’t sent you his usual indication that the chase went well and he and the rest of the Wranglers were just fine. You were in a fit of panic until Lily called you with words of reassurance and a promise to scold Tyler for his forgetfulness. Since then, you always bugged him to ensure he had his charger and that he used it. 

But he had gotten a lot better about checking in since you had your little girl. The reckless Wrangler pumped the breaks just slightly, calling every night he was away to hear the little baby babble before he fell asleep. He’d taken a rather long break from chasing when she was born, but you knew he missed it dearly. And while you’d miss him, he promised to keep his trips to a couple days tops and he’d come home the second you felt overwhelmed or needed help, no matter the size of the storm they were after. 

You were nervous to let him go, but you always had been. Yet, Tyler’s love for the dangerous weather wasn’t something you wanted to stand in the way of. He was doing what he loved, with the people he loved even more. You were proud of him and his friends for sticking to their guns and doing everything they could to help the people affected by the storms. 

Tyler moved to stand in front of you and your little girl, who you held on your hip. She was all smiles as Tyler kissed her cheeks. “You keep an eye on your momma for me this weekend, okay? She’s a handful.” 

You playful rolled your eyes. “Right, because I’m the one who refuses to sleep at bedtime.” That had been an ongoing battle. Your little girl liked to stay awake all night and nap off and on through the day, leaving you and Tyler on the backward schedule too. 

Tyler pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling away too soon for your liking. He looked unsure of himself, eyes flickering between you and your daughter. “You sure you’re gonna be all right?” he asked, for what had to be the hundredth time that morning. He always checked before he left, over and over again just in case you changed your mind, but you never did. 

You placed a hand on his cheek, smiling in reassurance. “I promise,” you said. 

He nodded, kissing you once more as he muttered, “I love you,” against your lips. 

“I love you too.” 

With your baby’s backward sleep schedule, you had managed to put her to sleep by mid-afternoon. She slept soundly in her crib, and you collapsed on the couch with a tired sigh. The TV droned on, playing some old sitcom that you’ve seen a million times, lulling you to sleep slowly before it overtook you completely. 

The gentle breeze swept in through the open windows, filling your home with a springtime sweetness you thought would remain throughout the weekend, sprinkled with a few rain showers throughout. But as you slept, the pretty blue skies started to shift, changing into something much more sinister. 

The storm was glorious. Tyler’s veins were filled with adrenaline as they followed the twister down an empty backroad, watching as it gained speed. Boone stayed steady filming it, hollering in excitement the whole time. They didn’t get a chance to catch their breath until the tornado was choked out, dissipating before their eyes like it had never been there at all, but leaving behind a clear path of destruction across the open plains. 

The weekend was supposed to host a slew of storms just north of Tyler’s home, and he and his team felt pretty good about their luck based on the first tornado they caught. Maybe it was a little superstitious, but they often used the first storm they chased as a baseline for how lucky they’d be during that outbreak. 

Meeting back up with the rest of the Wranglers, Tyler watched the sky with his hands on his hips, his mind split between the storms and you. Even though he had been chasing since your daughter was born, he was still a little hesitant, especially considering how much of a hassle it was to get her to sleep through the night, but you were just as supportive and wonderful as ever. His responsibility to you and your daughter was his first priority, but his responsibility to the Wrangles was second. 

“We got another big one brewin’ southeast,” Dexter said, eyes glued to the radar. Peering over his shoulder, Lily watched it too. The fixed small smile on her lips faltered before her brows furrowed. She patted Dexter’s shoulder to get him to step aside from the device. 

Tyler could tell she was thinking hard about something, her lip pulled between her teeth and shoulders rolling back. 

“Lily,” Tyler said. “What is it?” 

“It’s heading right for town.” 

Boone’s face pinched in confusion. “What town?” 

All Lily had to do was look at Tyler before he felt a cold twist of dread overtake his body. The storm was heading straight for you. 

You were exhausted. So much so that you didn’t wake up until a loud crash jolted you out of your slumber. You shot up from the couch with a gasp, heartbeat quick in your chest. The curtains that framed the open windows whipped around wildly as a harsh wind blew through screen. It pushed over the vase of flowers that were resting on the end table in front of the window, leaving broken glass and water strewn across the floor. 

You hurried over to the window, only to be assaulted by the violent wind and rain that seemed to be coming down sideways. Cursing under your breath, you went around the living room, closing the windows and blocking out the loud howl that rose goosebumps on your skin. 

Thunder rumbled loudly, rattling the house and waking up the baby. You hurried down the hall, scooping up your daughter with her woven pink blanket. As you tried to calm her down, the sirens rang out with a fury. 

Tornadoes were as common in spring as rain, but your nerves never vanished whenever the sirens sounded. You had been lucky, always just out of the direct path of the storm resulting only in a fallen tree or ruined patio furniture, but nothing too damning. Yet, you never wanted to take your chances, try to outsmart the force of nature by testing your luck. And you had another person to be responsible for. So, you grabbed the diaper bag hanging on the back of the closet and started toward the basement. 

It was half-finished, but home to an emergency stock of supplies if worse ever came to worse during tornado season. Usually, you stayed calm during storms, either reassured by Tyler or able to talk yourself out of any worry as the storm passed by without too much rocking of the house. But Tyler wasn’t there, and it was your first big storm with the baby. 

Panic welled in your chest, pushing against your ribs as you sat on the old cot set up in the far corner of the basement, beside the shelf of food, water, and a radio. Your baby girl had stopped crying, lulled by you gently rocking her. Flipping on the radio, you listened as the weather overhead worsened. The weatherman only confirmed your fears when he listed your county as being right in the path of the increasingly powerful tornado. 

With one hand, you fumbled around in your pockets, in search of your phone, only to realize you had plugged it in not long after Tyler left. It remained upstairs. You heard the howl of wind increase and you knew you’d missed your window to safely venture upstairs. Instead, you were stuck, huddled in the corner of the basement silently praying your luck hadn’t run out and the storm would switch its path or disappear before it reached your home. 

But your luck seemed to have run out. 

Tyler was sure he’d never been so terrified of a storm before. Normally, he found the beauty in them, but he also had seen their destruction firsthand. It was always devastating to see people’s homes flattened and watch them in a desperate scramble to find their missing loved ones in the rubble. That was why they put their money towards helping those people; it wasn’t much, but it was the only way he knew how to help. 

It was a different kind of heartbreak when the devastation plagued a familiar place. As soon as he turned down the little gravel road that led to his neighborhood, he felt violently ill. It was like a swift punch in the gut, nearly causing him to double over at the wheel. The homes he had memorized along the street were gone, old trees completely uprooted, and cars overturned and totaled. 

“Oh my God,” Lily muttered from the backseat, bringing Tyler slightly out of his increasing panic. He didn’t know what he expected, based on the damage leading down the road toward your guys’ home, but nothing prepared him for seeing his little house in ruins. His mind didn’t even register what was happening until he abandoned his truck, running across what used to be the front yard. 

“No, no, no,” he whispered, unable to say much of anything else as he climbed over the rubble of the house. His chest felt impossibly tight, like his heart had been flattened alongside the homes, because his heart wasn’t in his chest anymore, not really. His heart was with you and your little girl; he’d given it away to you long ago and then again when he held his daughter for the very first time.

And neither one of you were anywhere to be seen. 

The Wranglers started to yell your name before Tyler found his voice and joined them. He peeled through the debris, numb to the pain in his hands as they cut against the mangled pieces of what once was a house. With each second that passed that he couldn't see you or hear you, his whole world seemed to darken around him. 

In the very back of his mind, he held a worry of something happening to him while he was chasing; he was as careful as he could be, making sure to only get into situations he could get himself and his team out of, but he never had considered he’d one day he at risk of losing you. 

Tyler had never considered having a little family of his own until he met you. He’d never felt so at home with a person since you crash-landed into his life. And after you two married, and you told him you were pregnant, he was faced with a brighter future than he’d ever imagined for himself. The idea that he may have lost it so suddenly was excruciating. 

“I got ‘em!” Boone yelled above the blood rushing in Tyler’s ears. Boone was on the other side of what used to be the house, grasping a bloodied hand that poked out of the rubble. “I need some help over here!” 

Tyler sprinted across the yard, as did the rest of the Wrangles. Lily, Dexter, and Dani ripped back the pile of debris while Boone and Tyler pulled on your hand, helping you out of the basement. You landed on your knees, one hand still clutching Tyler’s while your other was holding onto the baby. 

A cry of relief left Tyler’s lips as he fell to the ground in front of you. Your hand wasn’t the only thing that was bloodied, it ran down the side of your face and stained the sleeve of your shirt. 

“Baby,” he muttered, carefully grasping the sides of your face to get a better look at you. Your eyes were a little unfocused, red-rimmed, and watery. He wiped some of the blood off of your cheek, causing you to wince in pain. “Are you okay?” Clearly, you weren’t, but he needed to know if there was more damage than the cuts and bruises. Your eyes instantly fell onto the baby in your arm, panic taking hold of your features. 

“I-I don’t know,” you cried. You pulled back the blanket slightly from your daughter’s face, and there were a couple drops of blood smeared across her delicate skin. “I don’t know,-” Your voice caught in your throat, resulting in a shaky sob. 

Carefully, Tyler took the baby, who looked up at him with a quiet contentness, despite the chaos. She babbled quietly, reaching up toward him. He let her wrap her little hand around his fingers and quickly looked her over for any injuries. When he wiped the blood away, he quickly realized it was yours, not hers, which made him both feel relief and panic at the same time. 

“There’s EMTs comin’ in now. I’ll grab one!” Dani said before she took off down the road where the sirens wailed. 

Boone kneeled beside Tyler, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Do you want me to take the kid to get checked out while you wait here, with her?” Tyler nodded, passing off the baby to Boone, who smiled kindly down at her and started talking nonsense in the way that always made the little girl smile. 

Tyler’s full focus was on you as your shock started to wear off. You grabbed a fist full of his shirt, struggling to breathe as you tried to speak. “I fell asleep,” you choked out. “S-She went down for a nap, and I fell asleep. I didn’t…” A sputtered breath fell from your lips as Tyler held you close, hand placed firmly on the back of your head and the other rubbing something circled across your back. 

“It’s all right,” he whispered against the side of your head that wasn’t cut. “You’re okay.” 

You buried your head into his chest, sagging against him. “I’m sorry,” you said between hiccups. 

Confusion flushed Tyler. “What in the world are you sorry for?” He was the one who was sorry. He knew tornados were unpredictable, that was all a part of their nature. But he felt like he should have known the storm was coming for you, even if it was something completely out of his control. You had done everyone right; he left you alone. 

You didn’t answer, though. Instead, you squeezed your eyes closed just as Dani led an EMT back to where you two sat in the front yard. Not too far, Tyler could see Boone holding onto your baby girl while she was looked over too. By the little smile on her lips when Boone made a funny face, Tyler knew she was okay, and that was all thanks to you. 

You had to spend a couple of hours in the hospital, getting a couple stitches and diagnosed with a minor concussion. Other than that, both you and your daughter were okay. 

Since your guys' home was torn apart, the three of you posted up in one of the nicer motels just outside of town. You lounged on the bed, smiling softly as you watched Tyler and your daughter engage in a riveting conversation of nonsensical words and babbles that almost sounded like words. He felt your gaze and met it from his position at the end of the bed. 

The bumps and bruises would fade, and homes could be rebuilt; the most important thing was that all three of you were okay. Your little family, something you only wanted to protect, was still standing strong. 

Tyler scooped the baby girl up in his arms before he moved it sit right beside you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he did the same to your daughter. You rested your head on his shoulder, brushing a gentle finger across the little girl’s chubby cheeks. 

“We’re okay,” you whispered, like a reminder to yourself. 

Tyler wrapped an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close before he repeated, “We’re okay.”

[storieswithvenus]

Honeymoon anxiety - Tyler Owens x Fem! Reader

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

The fire crackles, spitting out small bits caught by the fire guard Tyler had placed in front of it an hour or so ago. you were currently sitting with your recliner up and head in your laptop.

“You know, it would be nice if you spoke to me instead of having your head in the laptop all night”, Tyler's voice gains your attention looking up towards the doorway where he is currently leaning up against, a teasing smile on his face.

“I'm sorry baby, I'm just trying to work out all the plans for our honeymoon, I’m convinced this is harder to plan than the actual wedding.” you speak for the first time in a few hours. you had been sitting researching all these different places across the world to see what would fit yours and Tyler's respected interests.

“I told you, we could just go on a solo storm chasing trip for a few weekends, then we aren’t spending as much money,” your head immediately snaps up to look at him, your eyes narrowing into a glare. “Tyler owens. I told you we are not celebrating our honeymoon by going and storm chasing. We already do that everyday, and you know damn well the gang is gonna turn around and tag along” you spit at him, he knew this was a non-negotiable issue with you.

You watch as he walks into the living room and towards the sofa where you are sitting, Tyler sits beside you and pulls you closer towards him ending with you on his lap facing him.

“I cannot wait to marry you my dear,” he leaves a gentle kiss on your lips, he can taste your vanilla lip balm which causes him to lean in again for a second taste. “I'm sorry I haven't been speaking to you, ty. I'm just so worried we won’t have everything planned and booked before the wedding.” You let your worries out to him, he watches you with the most love ever as you ramble on about the small details which were causing you anxiety. every so often you would feel him squeeze your waist so you knew he was listening to you.

Your wedding has always been made a big deal, even since you were a kid. That was your biggest dream, to marry your prince charming. Tyler had many conversations with your parents, mainly because they gave him the rundown of how you are going to act like when he does propose.

You start to fiddle with your engagement ring, playing and rubbing the small diamond in the middle of the gold ring. You had stated on your first date with Tyler that you only wear gold jewellery and have never been into silver, that was something he has taken a mental note of when you started to get serious - eventually using that to pick out the engagement ring 3 years later.

“Everything will come out perfect my love, stop worrying, we still have 7 months until the big day,” his voice immediately calms you down, his green eyes staring into yours, the love for you shown in the look he is giving you.

“We are still not having the honeymoon in tornado alley though.”

[lunarlando]

girl dad lando doing his babygirl's hair (she has his curls for sure hehe)!! he struggles a little but does a decent job at the end ~ maybe following a tutorial video or wifey is guiding him but creative freedom to you ❤️

so cute, thanks for the request! x

feel free to request more :)

“You’re in charge of one thing before we have to leave for brunch with your family.” 

Lando glances up from where he's laid out on the carpet tickling a wildly giggling Estelle to see you with your hands on your hips. 

You’re still one of the many shirts of his that you’ve resorted to using as pajamas since your currently seven month pregnant belly has popped, and you’re looking at him very pointedly, but he still smiles fondly at the sight of you. It’s just an unconscious thing that his face does, that it’s been doing since the day he met you. 

“Mama!” Estelle squeals, pointing at you excitedly. 

“Hi, my darling!” You wiggle your fingers at her, beaming at your little girl with enthusiasm.

“What’ve you got for me, babe?” 

“Be the best husband ever and do your daughter’s hair.” 

“Pretty sure I already am the best husband ever, but alright. Reckon her hair looks just fine the way it is, don’t you think?” He aims a sideways glance towards the toddler. Estelle’s hair is an exact replica of her father’s, tight curls that like to do whatever they want, as evident by the tornado of brown framing her chubby cheeks at the moment. Lando smacks his lips together, bobbing his head understandingly. “Yeah, okay, I’ll try my best.” 

“Thank you, love.” 

He scoops Estelle off the floor with an over-exaggerated grunt, climbing to his feet with her slung over his shoulder the way she always loves to be held by him. She shakes with peals of cute toddler giggles, patting him on the back surprisingly firm for a one year old, making him groan. “Woah, you’re getting so big and strong, Stell! C'mon, let’s go do your hair.” 

You press a grateful kiss to his cheek as he passes you, booping Estelle’s nose playfully before they make their way down the hall to the bathroom. 

Lando sets Estelle down on the bathroom counter, squinting at the items you’ve left next to the sink for him. A few combs, a small brush, a tiny water mister thing that he has no idea what to do with. 

As if you sense he’s confused, you call from the bedroom, “D’you need some help getting started?” 

“No, no. I’ve got this,” He calls back, grabbing a comb off the counter. “Dada’s got this, doesn’t he, lovebug?” 

Estelle is too preoccupied with looking at herself in the mirror to hear him, though if she did, she probably would’ve said no. He has no idea how to do her hair. Sure, he knows how to do his own hair (barely), and hers is similar to his, but it’s different. 

He pulls up the photo album he’s got on his phone of pictures of Estelle—ones he’s taken, ones you’ve sent him whilst he was away—hoping one of them will help him draw inspiration for today’s look. 

One that particularly catches his eye is a photo from the mini holiday you all took during summer break a few months ago, where Estelle’s springy curls are pulled into two bunches towards the top of her head. From what he remembers, those bunches quickly ended up smeared with applesauce, but they were adorable while they lasted. 

“Think this might be the one, how ‘bout you?” Lando turns the phone towards Estelle, showing her the photo. She aims a gummy smile at him, wiggling around happily. “Yeah, s’cute, innit? Alright, here we go.”

—

“Babe, would you c’mere for a second?” 

Lando’s voice rings out from the bathroom after twenty minutes of silence, save for the occasional giggle. You’re all done getting ready, and as much as you want to pop your head in to see what’s happening, you’ll give your husband the benefit of the doubt. You pad down the hallway as fast as your pregnancy waddle will let you, not knowing what to expect. 

“How’s it going in here, my loves?” 

Lando stands back with his hands propped on his hips, head tilted. “I think I did pretty decent, no?” 

Estelle’s got two tiny sort of space buns on her head, a little messy, but better than you were expecting, given Lando’s inexperience. She leans in your direction upon laying eyes on you, making grabby hands at you until you scoop her up. You shift her in your arms so she can see herself in the large mirror. 

“Look, baby! Who’s that over there?” You coo encouragingly, pointing at her in the mirror with a big smile. Estelle mumbles something unintelligible, patting herself on the chest happily. “That’s right, it’s you! Dada did a fantastic job with your hair, didn’t he? You look so cute!” 

Lando tosses the comb he’s holding behind his back and up over his shoulder, catching it and pretending to run it through his own curls in one smooth motion. “Call me Stell’s personal professional hairstylist.” 

He’s serious about it too, giving a straight face until you manage to come up with a response. 

“Is the racing not working out for you? Had to find another job?” You joke, chuckling lightly. He scoffs, bumping your hip with his. You reach up to give him a kiss on the cheek, then hold Estelle up too. “Give dada a kiss?” 

Estelle knows the word kiss very well. Execution, not so much, but she tries her best as she plants what has to be the world’s wettest kiss to Lando’s cheek too. A younger Lando might’ve wiped the slobber away immediately, but dad Lando has no problem with it. He’s changed a lot since his younger days, especially since becoming a first time parent. 

You’re both still navigating that journey together, but you’ll have a year and then some more experience once baby girl number two makes her arrival in t-minus two months time. But for now, you’ll cherish every moment with Estelle before your focus is split between two kids. 

“Oh, thank you for the kiss, lovebug!” Lando chirps, booping her nose gently. “Usually I’d charge top dollar for a mint hairdo like this, but I’ll take that as payment since you’re so cute. You get it from your mum, don’t ya?” 

“I dunno about that,” You hum, leaning into him. “Her dad’s pretty cute too.” 

You don’t have it in you to tell him one of Estelle’s bunches sits higher than the other, not when he’s smiling down so proudly at the two of you like you’re his world.

[jinxs-gf]

Black Cat!Reader x The Team Headcanons

Black Cat!Reader x The Team

note: just because you’re in place of Black Cat doesn’t mean this is fem!reader! this is very gender neutral besides the mention of lipstick briefly…even then that’s not lady exclusive :)

content/warnings: this is seemingly set during s1 like my other yj fics but I imagine everyone being way older 😔🙏🏽 it’s weird but just roll with it pretty please. also…a bit suggestive??

word count: 3.6k

a/n: I wouldn’t have done this but this anon gave me the idea and I HAD to expand on it unfortunately

THE TEAM (platonic)

Lots and lots of flirting from reader, OBVIOUSLY. do y’all even KNOW Black Cat????? it would be relentless. and no matter how annoying and probably overwhelming it got, you wouldn’t back down

with even the toughest/hardest to crack team members

it’s not even like you’re attempting to lure them in…or get romantically involved (unless…), it’s just how you are. who can blame you! flirting is fun

you started off as just another “villain of the day.” Someone they could take on easily. They thought of you as a pity mission. An bad guy as small as a simple thief? What fun was that?! They’ve taken down Gods, magicians, robots…and Red Tornado assigned them a thief??? It was a joke.

until it wasn’t. until Batman saw potential in you (because of course he did. Robin was not happy about this.)

You earned the nickname Cat, which was a nickname in itself for Kitty Cat (Wally's idea, not yours, you gave him hell for it)

your first mission with them was definitely something. messy, to say the least

it was weird, the whole mind link thing. you made jokez and flirted through the link as a way of coping because…well you felt out of place

everyone was so close with each other, not to mention they didn’t come from a background of “bad guy shenanigans”

you felt like an outcast for the longest time, until everyone was revealing vulnerable secrets with each other before a mission. you finally spoke your insecurities with your place on the team

you and Artemis had the same worries (more or less) and bonded over that

you finally were able to let loose and just…be yourself around them

you became soft

the flirting and teasing was still there, however it was saved for missions

you preferred to keep Black Cat’s reputation

individual relationships

ROBIN (romantic)

He was very much against the idea of you being on the team. Sure you weren’t a crazy villain that hurt people (maybe not physically…but you were definitely a heartbreaker, Robin concludes)

You were still a thief at the end of the day. A bad person. And he didn’t like that.

It was Batman’s idea—and usually Batman had great ideas. This was a very bad one. He hated every bit of it.

…until he got to know you better

Taking you down was easy. “Easiest job I’ve ever had,” Robin boasts.

You pout, “that’s not very nice.”

Ha. He knocked you down a peg. Good. You needed a little humbling-

“-How come you’re lying to me, Robin? I thought we had something.”

Uh oh. He absolutely hated when you used that sickeningly sweet voice on him.

Of course you didn’t believe his lie. Of course you could tell how difficult that mission really was.

It’s not apart of his proudest moments. He hesitated to stop you on the mission, completely caught off guard by your flirtatious behavior. I mean, who wouldn’t be?!

In a moment of weakness, he let you go. Awestruck by the kiss you left imprinted on his cheek. Something he got teased relentlessly for.

The rest of the team finished the job for him after that.

In the back of his mind he knows the only reason he didn’t like the idea of you being on the team was because he…knew it wouldn’t end well for him. He was sure to be on your long list of broken hearts (a list that was never confirmed to even exist)

It made sense in his mind…he was Robin. A bird. And you were a cat. A right recipe for disaster. You’d trap him in your greedy little claws and eat him alive.

Over time that perspective changed.

Robin hates to admit it, but he’s softer now. Softer around you. For you.

“I know who you are,” he says with that arrogant smirk.

“So why can’t I know who you are?”

“Only…really important and trustworthy people know. The only person who knows besides Batman is Wally. He’s my best friend.”

“Why doesn’t that include me?” you’re practically purring, rubbing a finger down his face, “am I not important enough to you?” You pout for show

He looks dejected, like he was having an internal battle with himself. And you could tell which part of him was losing.

Your fingers inch slowly towards his mask, ready to lift-

“Robin.” And the stupid, stupid monotone voice that belonged to Batman interrupted you.

You’ll get him back for that.

Robin was now being scolded, but he was having none of it.

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“It will not happen again. No more moments of weakness. You’re growing, your body is going through a lot of different things. Keep it in your pants-”

“Whoa old man! Whoa! That’s going too far. And what about Selina?! You’ve had many moments of weakness because of her. You can’t scold me for this one time.”

“It’s because of my experience with Catwoman that I know better. I’m trying to stop you from…getting hurt.”

Robin calls bullshit on that. What could you possibly do to hurt him? (Thoughts that completely contradict his first impressions of you)

The next time he sees you he’ll spill everything. He’ll let you know that he does trust you and that you do matter. That you’re important to him.

Just to spite Bruce. And maybe because he really likes you and wants you to know it.

It was his idea to bring you onto the team anyways…he’s just giving Bruce exactly what he wanted. A warm welcome to a new teammate.

WALLY (romantic)

Wally was so happy someone FINALLY reciprocated his advances. And especially with a catch like you? Black Cat?! He was over the moon.

At first.

It quickly came to be too much. He's been waiting, praying for someone to match his energy, but now that he's got it? He's not exactly sure how to handle it. He's gotten so used to being blown off, teased, and scolded for his flirting that it was weird when you flirted back.

He was of course the first to tease you when you officially joined the team. He gave your your nickname, Kitty Cat. You despised the name and him for the longest time.

Wally was annoying. Taunting you at all times. Calling to you as if you were an actual cat.

He'd click his tongue, "here kitty kitty."

And for that, your flirting was meaner towards him (compared to how you treated everyone else). Which is the exact reason why he couldn't handle the teasing from you. It wasn't the normal way Robin would, "oh yeah, Wally can't phase the way Flash does. Otherwise he gets a nosebleed. Right, loser?" Or the way Artemis would, "ugh, you flirt like a divorced 40 year old who's desperate for a rebound. Loser."

No, your teasing was quite different. You laughed cruelly, throwing your head back for show, "Come get it before it's gone, loser."

So. He was still a loser to you, but it seemed you actually liked that about him. Maybe.

Wally didn't like it as much as he thought he would. It ruined his cool guy facade (one that didn't exist, Robin would say). It was humbling, the way he suddenly tumbled over his words, face flushed red and all.

More than humbling. It was embarrassing.

You bring him down to the mat with a loud THUD. Much like the time Black Canary beat him during their first time training. Except you used your weight, tumbling on him (and straddling him in the process. Great).

Embarrassing embarrassing embarrassing.

The only person that was able to truly catch him was his best friend, Robin. And that's with years of experience with the speedster. You'd know him all of a few months and you're able to do it?!

"It won't happen again,” referring to his teasing of your name, naming you Kitty Cat and clicking his tongue at you.

“Or I’ll have to teach you a lesson. Much different from this one.” And you casually walk away.

Wally desperately wanted to get up, to humble you back. But he couldn't. He felt physically incapable of doing so.

You had really done it. You slowed down the (second) fastest man alive.

Wow.

"Wow. That was extremely painful to watch," of course Robin had something to say about it.

"Shut up man."

KALDUR (romantic)

It was "unprofessional," he said.

Unprofessional your ass. It was perfectly professional. A lot of people on the teams had partners within those same teams. Black Canary and Green Arrow, Superman and Wonder Woman (exes—but that still counts for something), Conner and M’gann acted like a couple and no one said anything! So what was the problem?

Well apparently there wasn’t a problem…seeing as this “relationship” was more welcomed—as in, Kaldur didn’t tell the Black Cat off when they made advances towards him. Besides when he called their behavior “unprofessional.” That was once. He didn’t say a word of it after that.

In fact, he allowed—dare anyone say encouraged it.

On missions you were attached to his hip. Even if he assigned you to be by Artemis’ side or assist Robin, you wouldn’t listen. And he didn’t say anything about it, instead informing the team to continue on with the plan.

His professional act as the team leader never faltered, not even you could break it down. He merely tolerated your flirting (his words, though you knew better. He loved it).

The team was each in their individual positions scoping out the area, ready to attack at a moments notice. Kaldur was squatted down and you decided it was the perfect opportunity to pounce on him (as you usually did). You wrapped your arms around his neck, now on his back.

“Does the team leader have time for some sweet talk?”

“I, we have a job to do, Cat. Focus.”

You hum, “What are we doing here again?”

He starts relaying the plan to you, you taking note of the way he doesn’t scold you (he repeated the plan to the team multiple times on the way over, he surely would’ve berated one of the other guys for not listening). You never had any intentions of listening, only wanting a chance to annoy him.

“Blah blah blah, is this your version of sweet talk?” You squish his face between your fingers and plant a kiss on his cheek.

He only sighs, “Later. After the mission is complete.”

For once, your find yourself surprised. He’s promising to reciprocate your advances?

This should be fun.

CONNER (romantic)

M'gann was more subtle with her flirting (not really, especially with the way she blushes), more timid and on the nose about her feelings. You? You got straight to the point. Kind of like how open Artemis was when she first joined the team. She had no shame letting the team know telepathically how attractive she thought Superboy was. Seriously, what was it with new recruits and taking an immediate liking to Conner? Why not the other three boys? What did he have that they didn't!

Although Artemis gave up on that crush at first sight almost immediately

You? Not so much. it was very noticeable that the Black Cat was adamant on cracking the boy of steel. it seemed like an impossible mission, but with a little determination and a couple sultry words? it was pretty damn easy

This is very much an enemies to lovers type relationship (kinda):

At the beginning, when you first met, he was open to new relationships. Getting to know people he could count on within the team, though that openness completely died down. Your flirting was nonstop. Even on missions! How was he supposed to concentrate on the task at hand when you found time to graze his arm or speak soft words to him?

You annoyed him, sosososo much it wasn't even funny. Even more than M'gann did. Both of you were insistent, that's for sure. But one was more bold than the other. He tried telling himself it was because he didn't like you: at least with M'gann he wanted a relationship to come from it (not necessarily romantic)

But with you...he hated you. No. He hated the way he reacted to your advances...he hated admitting to himself that your words affected him. That he felt something not so platonic for you. Damn you and your stupid flirting. It was surely going to be the death of him. And that's saying something: the clone of the man of steel actually breaking down? unheard of.

But you managed to do it. Unfortunately.

Conner finds himself thinking about you, more than he'd like. Another reason to dislike you. You take up his mind. Every waking moment and every dream. It's infuriating.

And now he was starting to worry about you during missions. He saw you get knocked down, away from the rest of the team. The fall looked nasty, and with the way you seem to lie there with no intention of getting back up, he's sure you've been knocked out

Conner tries to ignore the way his heart clenches at the sight, kind of like the way it does when concerning you in different context

It gives him the courage to voice his worries, he calls out to you, and as expected: he gets no response

The enemy leans down to your level, ready to do more damage. Conner is quickly snapped out of his daze and starts running over to you

Until he abruptly stops. Because you open your eyes to wink at him, jump up, and take the enemy down with ease.

It's right then that he takes back every thought of admitting he doesn't hate you. Because the stupid smirk you're sending his way reminds him of every reason why he dislikes you.

Everyone is home or in their respective rooms already, leaving you and him. You're behind him, massaging his shoulders gently (your touch wouldn't have persisted if he showed any signs of discomfort, he leaned into it in fact, allowing you to continue)

You bring your head down, cheek to his,

"Oh come on. You can lie to everyone and yourself. But you can't lie to me. I know you were worried back there. Just admit it, Loverboy."

He can only roll his eyes. And blushed. You were never going to live this down.

"I wasn't. Now leave me alone." If only his actions were as convincing as his stern words. Words that would've scared off the likes of M'gann had she been in your position. But you knew better, knew that his shaking hands and quickly warming face meant that his words had no meaning.

Your hand dragged from his shoulder to his chest, right over his heart. Yeah, his words were meaningless with the way his heart was beating for you.

Conner was finally warming up to you and you had him right where you wanted him.

And so you let go. "Whatever you say, Loverboy," and with a kiss to his pink cheek, you leave him alone to ponder his complicated feelings.

Feelings that were in fact not complicated at all. Because Conner was finally, finally ready to admit to himself and to you that he wanted you. So badly.

If only you hadn't pulled away so quickly, he couldn't reciprocated the kiss or two...it would've been an easier, showing you how he feels instead of saying it out loud.

He'll kiss you next time.

M’GANN (romantic)

The Martian can't hide her liking towards you for the life of her. She could’ve even if she tried.

It was near painful, you pitied her. You almost felt bad and stopped teasing her. Almost.

It was fun though, how could you stop?

M’gann would actively seek out your approval and attention when you joined the team. It was only natural, she did it with the rest of the members, so you were no exception.

Besides, the only teammate she was kind of close with was Artemis. Was it sooo wrong of her to want to get close to you?!

Nope! Though she does wish you weren’t so…forward sometimes. Not that it’s unwelcomed, she’s just unsure of how to act because of it. Is she supposed to reciprocate? M’gann has never seen nor experienced such a dynamic on Mars, much less on Earth. So she awkwardly blushes and smiles.

Eventually she gets used to it. And gets very much into it. She won’t vocalize her feelings, instead she’ll mind link and talk that way. Often times it’s easier to communicate through touch. Which says a lot, M’gann would rather use touch?? Not the mind link?? Which was the main source of communication on Mars? Whoa.

It was mainly because…she didn’t want to reveal all her feelings to you. She’s usually able to control what goes through the mind link, having done it since childhood, but you’ve made her mind a complete mess. She all but short circuits when you’re around.

Can anyone blame her?

"You know what I'm thinking?"

"No."

"Well you can read me, can't you Martian girl?"

She giggles at herself, how could she forget? "Hello Megan!"

Her smile turns timid once she reads your mind.

"Oh."

ARTEMIS (romantic)

It was honestly unfair how fast the blonde caught your attention. Her voice. Her stupid raspy voice.

Unfortunately for you, Artemis wasn’t exactly buddy-buddy with you at first. Well, she wasn’t really with any of her teammates. But with time she’s learned to get along with everyone.

“I just wanna get to know you, Blondie. What’s wrong with that?” You asked in the sweetest voice you could muster up, one that usually made everyone fall.

Yet she rolls her eyes.

So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Fine.

It was right after a mission, everyone was surrounding Red Tornado, relaying the events to your mentor.

“You know we could’ve took that guy down way faster had you not been on Robin the whole time.”

“Jealous Blondie?

“Stop calling me Blondie!”

You had sleepovers, movie nights, and other hang out outside of missions. With or without the rest of the team. They were fun, the first time you were alone with her is what really got her to warm up to you.

“Ugh! Of course literally everyone else canceled but Cat.” She really seemed to hate you.

You were outside her window, watching as Artemis complained to no one but herself. She once offhandedly commented on how her place was off limits for hangouts (refusing to explain why, which was okay with the team).

You were definitely crossing a boundary doing this, but she seemed upset in the group chat. You couldn’t just leave her by herself.

And then…the Sportsmaster walks in her room. One of the team’s enigmas. A thorn in their side. What the hell?

He does nothing but berate her for not “joining them.” Joining who? Then proceeds to say he’d be happier if she ever thinks to change her mind

“I’m never going to be apart of your messed up team, dad.”

Oh.

And then he’s just…gone.

You’re stunned, and only then does she finally notice you. She ushers you into her room, now berating you for your actions and spying and breaking her boundaries and…

“Your secret is safe with me, babe.” It was meant to be a term of endearment to reassure her,

Friends called each other babe, right?

“Babe?”

“You’d rather be called Blondie?”

She rolls her eyes, “whatever.” And as annoyed as she wanted to seem, she smiled and hugged you gratefully.

It was the only time you allowed yourself to be any kind of vulnerable around her. Or any of the team for that matter.

Once she got over her high horse, it was a very reluctant friendship turned…something more? That’s to be determined. But with the way she now flirts back? You’d say that was a good sign.

“Hey Blondie.”

“You calling me Blondie is the equivalent of Wally calling you Kitty Cat. Maybe I’ll have to teach you a lesson this time around.”

“I like the way you think, babe.” (You say not so platonically this time)

ROY (romantic)

You were on him as soon as he rejoined the team. How could you not be? He was even grumpier than Conner was when he joined, making him extra fun to mess with.

You had no chill when flirting with him, he decided immediately that was annoyed with you. And did not want to be friends.

Because his actual friends brought him joy, they made him laugh and they listened to him when he had bad days. You? You made a bad first impression, therefore he refused give you the chance to do any of those things.

Often telling you to buzz off and if you didn’t he’d “choke you with a hair ball.” Kinky, you replied.

He hated it.

Until you found out about his girl, his other Cat. Cheshire. That’s when things changed. You were less…on him.

"Me and her were never a thing!"

"Getting defensive there. Afraid I'll get jealous?"

"I could care less about your feelings."

“Oh really? Is that right?”

His eye twitched. He couldn’t believe he was trying to…reassure you? Was that what he was doing?

He was trying to make sure you knew he wasn’t with Cheshire. That her feelings were one sided. It’s something he shouldn’t be doing, he tells himself. In fact, he should be doing the opposite. Tell you that she means something to him, or maybe stay quiet and insinuate that they had something going on.

To get you off his back.

You seemed to back off completely when you found out Cheshire flirted with him often on missions when the goal was to take her down. Much like how the team’s predicament when they first met you.

It made you…upset?

And for some reason that made him upset.

“So you’re my Roy Toy? Mine completely?” Wally and Robin had originally griped about the nickname until it eventually made them laugh. They came to appreciate it.

“I’m no one’s. Not yours, not Cheshire’s, not the Justice League’s nor the team’s.”

“You will be mine one day, Speedy. And you’ll love it.”

Roy doesn’t respond but he feels like…there is some truth to your playful statement.

Maybe one day.

bonus:

THE TEAM

They all slowly turn towards you.

"...you've kissed all of us?"

You only shrug, “wasn’t that obvious?”

you can tell I got lazy lmaooo

I hate how I formatted this omg

[imaginespazzi]

This Little Love of Ours

Three times Paige and Azzi didn't go on a date and the one time they did

(In which an alternate universe writer finally returns to writing things in the real universe)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.4K (sighs in *this was meant to be 2K* words)

TW: Light swearing, alludes to sexual content

A/N: Hi lovelies, I'm backkkk!! Gonna keep this short and sweet but this is basically me combining a bunch of prompts/requests into one. There's some creative liberty taken with logistics and as per usual, the editing exists but so do my typos. As always, let me know what you liked and what you didn't, as well as anything you'd like to see going foreward. Happy Juneteenth and I hope y'all have a lovely rest of your week <3

we were just kids (when we fell in love)

The streets of Minsk, Belarus are bursting with light and colour, the summer breeze enveloping the two girls walking riverside as they giggle over everything and nothing. They’re breaking curfew plus a hundred other rules right now and if one of their coaches ever found out, they’d be as good as dead. But there’s something about being out in the open with Azzi, being able to delicately brush palms and not worry about her jolting away in fear of being seen, that has Paige ready to be reckless. 

It’s been a year of learning Azzi, a year of discovering the little things that make her smile, a year of memorising the intricate stories that make her who she is. And Paige hides all these little details in a little treasure chest in the corner of her heart, bringing them out like little drops of lights when Azzi’s not by her side, and the darkness feels all-consuming. The thing is, Paige has never been attached to someone like this before, never felt like there was another half she needed to feel whole. She’d been an independent child, walls of steel barricading anyone from getting a glimpse into her vulnerability. For a long time, she’d been fine just living in the façade of being fine. But then she’d met Azzi. And all the walls had gone crashing down and it was okay not to be okay, because now while she held the weight of world, there was somebody there to hold her too. 

“Paigeeee,” Azzi squeals with delight, eyes fixated on a van across the road, “there’s an ice cream truck.”

Paige doesn’t get time to react before she’s being pulled along, the wind tornadoing around her body. And yet she feels warm and fuzzy inside, like there’s a blanket with Azzi’s name knitted into it, wrapped around her heart. 

“I’ll have the strawberry please,” Azzi smiles politely at the ice cream vendor, eyes sparkling with excitement, “P what are you getting?”

Paige grins, knowing her order is about to earn her a patented eye roll, “I’ll have the mint choc chip please.”

“You’re so weird,” the younger girl scrunches up her face and Paige suddenly has the urge to kiss her nose. 

They both know that they’re living inbetween blurred lines, on a trapeze balanced between friends and something more. It had been a whispered conversation of have you ever kissed a girl? do you wanna kiss a girl? do you wanna kiss me? that had led to a kiss Paige swears can never be topped, but they hadn’t spoken about it again. With them living in separate states, it had been easy to ignore that, that had ever even happened, both of them skilled players at the game of pretend. But it’s different now they’re back in each other’s orbit and every touch seems to linger on Paige’s skin long after Azzi’s hands have left her own. 

“You have no taste. It’s sooooo good,” Paige chides, making a show of licking her ice cream. When she looks at Azzi, she’s not expecting the way the shooting guard’s eyes have glazed over, fixated on Paige’s lips as she swallows nervously. An unfamiliar shiver tickles down Paige’s skin as they stand in silence, the air thick with a new tension. 

“It’s green,” Azzi says finally, voice coming out breathless, “that’s enough for me to know it tastes bad.”

“Don’t knock it til you taste it,” the blond holds out her cone as an invitation. 

When Azzi steps into Paige space, much closer than needed, she’s expecting Azzi to take the cone. She’s expecting that familiar jolt of electricity when their hands accidentally brush. Instead she feels herself being  mesmerised by Azzi’s face getting closer and closer til she can feel the younger girl’s breath fanning her face. She gulps, as Azzi presses her lips to the corner of Paige’s mouth, tongue darting out for the briefest of seconds before she’s pulling away. And despite the cool of the ice cream, every part of Paige feels like it’s burning. 

“I was wrong. Guess it tastes pretty good,” Azzi whispers, biting her lip. 

“You-I-what-” Paige splutters, struggling to form a coherent thought. 

Azzi giggles, clearly proud of herself  “Paige Bueckers speechless? Who thought I’d ever see the day?”

“You’re a fucking menace.”

“And proud of it.”

There’s the clichéd spring in Paige’s step as they continue to walk by the river. She shifts her ice cream cone to her left hand, letting the other one entangle with Azzi’s fingers. It’s nothing, the most mundane of things to hold her best friend’s hand, but it feels exhilarating, like it’s the start of something special. Determined, she tugs on Azzi’s hand to pull them to a stop. The Minsk waterfront dazzles behind them but Paige swears nothing’s glowing brighter than two of them in this moment. 

“Why are we stopping?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised quizzically. 

Paige smirks, a new surge of confidence taking birth in her stomach, “I wanted to try your ice cream too. You got a taste of mine, it’s only fair I get a taste of yours.” 

“Is that so?” Azzi hums, pressing herself against Paige, “too bad it seems like I’ve finished my cone then.”

“Yeah too fucking bad,” Paige agrees before crashing her lips against Azzi’s. 

***

Paige is exhausted at breakfast the next morning, barely registering the conversations that are buzzing around her. Her eyes are drooping from the lack of sleep and there’s a dull pounding in her head but she has no regrets. Last night had been everything. She can still feel every moment pulsating through her veins, her heart beating to the rhythm of Azzi Azzi Azzi. The younger girl hasn’t appeared for breakfast yet and Paige is itching to see her. They’ve been separated for barely a couple of hours, reluctantly heading to their own rooms after they’d gotten back, and Paige swears she’d missed the girl even in her sleep. 

“You got back late last night,” Cameron teases, sticking out a fork of fruit in Paige’s direction, “you two must have had a good time.”

“Yeah,” there’s a rare shyness in Paige’s tone, “yeah we had a great time.”

“Oooh are we talking about Paige and Azzi’s date last night?” Aliyah cuts in, a smirk playing on her lips. 

“It wasn’t a date,” Paige counters, suddenly feeling oddly defensive “it- it was nothing.”

Cam raises an eyebrow, “it seemed like a date.” 

“Well it wasn’t. It definitely was not a date.”

“You guys heard her,” Azzi's voice makes Paige freeze, something akin to guilt pooling in her stomach, “it definitely was not a date.”

Cam and Aaliyah raise their hands in surrender, turning back to whatever conversation they were engaged in before. Paige gulps as Azzi sits down in the empty spot next to her, body rigid. 

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Paige it’s fine. I get it.”

“You- you do?” Paige doesn't entirely know how Azzi can get it, not when Paige doesn’t even really get it herself. 

Azzi shrugs with fake nonchalance, “yeah, yeah I do and it’s okay. You’re right. It wasn’t a date.”

And it wasn’t. At least not by name. Paige knows that. Apparently Azzi knows it too. But everything about that feels wrong. Underneath the table, their hands intertwine subconsciously. Neither of them react. Neither of them pull away. It’s the start of something unspoken, something complicated, something beautiful and fragile and so, so volatile, something that’ll take them years to understand.

2. this all or nothing way of loving (got me sleeping without you)

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

Azzi fights the twitch in her hand that wants to reach out and grab her phone when that notification flashes on her screen. She musters up another fake smile at her date, hoping the girl in front of her hasn’t noticed the change in her demeanour. It’s ridiculous the way her body reacts to the most simple things when it comes to Paige. She hates it, hates the way it seems like she has no control over herself when it comes to the blonde. 

“Do you need to get that?” Anika asks, voice sweet as honey as she smiles at Azzi 

“No, no it’s just an insta notification. Nothing important. You were saying,” Azzi brushes it off, trying to keep her voice nonchalant. Anika seems satisfied with that as she returns back to telling Azzi about something her sister had done. Fidgeting in her seat, Azzi tries her hardest to keep her focus on the brunette, but her mind is whirring with curiosity about what Paige might have posted. 

The opportunity presents itself a couple of minutes laters, when Anika slides out of her seat to go to the bathroom. It’s a little embarrassing how quickly Azzi beelines for her phone, clicking on Paige’s story and immediately wishing she hadn’t. Anger and jealousy tighten their grip on her as she’s met with a picture of a caramel skinned, curly haired girl smiling at the camera, staring at Paige behind it, with that oh so familiar look of adoration. The text on the image reads in good company and Azzi feels bile rising up her throat. And she’s not allowed to feel this way, not when she and Paige had both agreed to turn their something into nothing but every day since that decision has felt a little bit like someone twisting a dagger into her heart, piercing further and further until she has no more blood left to bleed. 

She doesn’t notice Anika’s made her way back until she feels a warm hand on her shoulder, looking up to find concerned green eyes staring down at her, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” Azzi nods with a sense of calm she doesn’t feel, “you okay with me showing you off a bit?”

It’s a dangerous game she’s about to play, one of jealous retaliation that she knows will only make her feel better for a brief second before all the pain will flood back. But she reaches for her phone anyways, fighting the voices of logic and reason (that sound oddly similar to Colleen) in her head and instead giving into impulse. Anika beams at the camera, throwing up a peace sign, and Azzi’s heart stutters with guilt at how sincere her smile is. She snaps the picture, captioning it with  date night <3 and clicks post to close friends. Her heart beats erratically as she places her phone back on the table, trying to tune back into Anika’s conversation. It takes approximately three minutes for her phone to flash again.

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

This time Azzi doesn’t bother fighting the urge to look, a new adrenaline pumping through her veins. It’s a mirror selfie this time. The girl has her back pressed against Paige’s front as they pose in front of the bathroom mirror. Paige has one hand holding her phone while the other is sprawled against the other girl’s waist, where a silver belly button piercing shimmers against tan skin. There’s no text this time, just a red heart and that Paige-shaped hole in Azzi’s heart is starting to get larger and larger. 

“You wanna take a walk?” Azzi asks Anika, tearing her eyes away from the phone, “it’s nice outside.”

Anika smiles, rising from her seat and holding out a hand that Azzi gladly takes. It would be easier, Azzi thinks, if she could just fall in love with this girl. Someone less complicated, someone who had less power over her, someone who was here. But it’s a futile dream, her heart is spoken for and Azzi doesn’t think she’ll ever get it back. 

It's a beautiful winter night outside and there’s a pretty girl holding her hand. That’s all Azzi should be thinking about. Instead, her mind is stuck on the image from before and it’s that vision, welded behind her eyelids, that has her taking a picture of her and Anika’s intertwined hands. As she types out the caption, one that feels way too deep for a first date, Azzi can’t help but roll her eyes at herself. She can’t remember the last time she’d posted a story, let alone two in a row and now here she is, posting inauthentic story after story to win a losing game. 

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

This time there’s at least 10 minutes before Azzi’s phone flashes with that notification again. Next to Azzi, Anika lets out a sigh, starting to become less amiable to the idea of her date constantly checking her phone. Azzi shoots her an apologetic look before her expression quickly turns stone cold at seeing the new picture. It’s a haphazardly taken, slightly pixelated, photo of Paige smiling and the girl kissing her cheek. And if Azzi was in any mood to analyse just a little further she’d notice that Paige’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, isn’t quite as wide as her real one. But there’s green fog clouding her judgement as she seethes internally, Anika’s soft touch doing nothing to calm her down. Tapping on Paige’s profile, Azzi fingers hover over the three dots on the upper left, as her petty side begins to take over. 

And then she hits block. 

***

“How was your date?” Paige’s mocking voice rings throughout Azzi’s childhood bedroom at almost 2 in the morning. She shouldn’t have answered the facetime call, should’ve held out for longer than just three missed calls and twelve angry texts. But Azzi has long realised that she’s putty when it comes to Paige. 

“How’s your girlfriend,” Azzi bites back. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Right,” Azzi draws out the word with an eyeroll, “how’s your fuck buddy then?”

Paige closes her eyes, rubbing her temples. When she opens them, the angry hard-to-read Paige that she’s been dealing with for the last month is replaced by Azzi’s soft, sweet and vulnerable Paige. Being apart after having been together all through lockdown has been harder than either of them could have imagined. They’d just assumed it would be easy when Paige finally left for UConn, after all most of their relationship had been built while living in different states. But somewhere in between workouts at 6 am and movie nights with Azzi’s family, they’d gotten used to living in each other’s skin, forgetting just how difficult it was to be apart from each other.  

“I miss you,” Paige whispers, “all the time. I can’t wait til you’re here.”

I miss you too, so much that sometimes it’s the only thing I feel, Azzi thinks and really it’s what she should say, instead the bitterness wins out, “why? So I can see you and that girl being all coupley in person instead of just on instagram?”

“That’s not fair, Azzi. You said you wanted to be just friends for now. You said I should try with other people and now you wanna throw that back in my face?”

“It was mutual-”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers, “don’t try and put that shit on me. You made the decision and I just went along with it.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have then,” Azzi says exasperatedly, blinking her eyes rapidly to keep tears threatening to fall at bay. They fall into silence, staring at each other through the screen with identical expressions of only you can hurt me, only you can heal me. Azzi wishes she could reach through her phone, pull Paige into her world and melt into the older girl.

“What do you want from me Az?” Paige asks softly. 

I just want you, Azzi thinks miserably. She wants to be beg Paige to end things with that other girl, wants Paige to tell her not go on anymore dates, want to go back to being something, but she can’t, not when she’s convinced herself that they need do this, go through a phase of being nothing, so that they can be everything someday. This whole idea had taken birth in her head out of the fear that this- the two of them not knowing anything but each other- would eventually lead to resentment, that they- that Paige- would wake up one day and realise there was so much more the world had to offer. So now Azzi’s playing the long game, trying to believe in the clichéd year old adage that you have to let the people you love go, and if they come back, they’re yours. And she hopes against hope that Paige will come back, because Azzi doesn't think she’ll survive anything else. 

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, instead of voice the other thoughts dancing on the tip of her tongue, “I’m sorry I’m being unfair.”

Paige’s eyes soften, “can we just- can we just talk about something else?”

And they do. They talk all night about everything and nothing, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. It’s that same nightly routine neither of them can fall asleep without. Because even if they’re both drowning in a sea of unspoken words, at least they’re sinking together, perhaps there’s some comfort in that. 

3. you make me smile (please stay for a while now)

Azzi stares at her reflection in the mirror for what feels like the thousandth time. She’s a bundle of nervous energy as she pats down her neatly ironed mini-skirt, adjusting her already perfectly-set crop top. It’s a little bit like how she feels before stepping on the court, dizzy with both nerves and excitement in anticipation. By all technicalities, this isn’t their first date. There’s probably friends and family who would argue this is closer to be their millionth or so date but nothing has ever been official. It just means more. 

She jumps a little when the doorbell rings at exactly 7 p.m. sharp, taking in a deep breath, before she opens the door. Paige stands outside in black pants with a black crop top and a multicolor cardigan, and a bouquet of pink roses in her hands. It takes Azzi about two seconds to realise that something’s wrong. Paige’s eyes are a feverish red and her smile is tired; it’s her all too familiar Paige is sick demeanour that Azzi’s quick to recognize after years of having seen it. The blonde opens her mouth to say something and instead all that comes out is a series of loud sneezes. 

“Oh baby,” Azzi gives her a sympathetic smile, reaching out to feel Paige’s forehead and then narrowing her head when she feels the heat, “P-”

“I’m fine,” Paige cuts her off, her voice gravelly, “just allergies.”

Azzi crosses her arms, knowing she’s about to deal with a petulant child, “I don’t think so. You’re clearly sick.”

“I don’t-,” Paige tries to disguise the cough in between her sentences, “-get sick.”

“Sure you don’t,” Azzi nods, as she tugs Paige inside, grabbing the flowers and setting them aside. Paige lets out grunts of protest, but her body is clearly too tired to fight back as Azzi guides them into her room. She goes into her closet first, finding an oversized shirt for Paige to change into. 

“You know the getting undressed part comes after the date right?” Paige raises an eyebrow, practically glaring at the t-shirt 

“We’re not going on a date.”

“WHAT? Dude I’m fine. I have a reservation and everything,” Paige whines in between coughs as she watches Azzi rummage through her drawers for medication, “it’s our first date. I had plans.”

“I’m not going on a date with you looking all snotty and congested like that.”

Azzi suppresses a laugh at Paige’s offended sequel, “what happened to sickness and health?”

“Pretty sure that’s a marriage thing,” she hands Paige the pills and a glass of water, that the older girl obediently takes.

“Well we’re eventually gonna get married so you need to get used to that,” it’s said so casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but it steals Azzi’s breath away, the words carving themselves into the walls of her heart. Sometimes she wonders if Paige understands the gravity of the things she says, understands how they make every part of Azzi come alive with hope for their future. She shies away from a smirking Paige, trying to hide the blush that’s creeping up her neck. 

“Just- just get changed,” she manages to stutter out. 

“I,” sneeze, “don’t,” cough, “want” sneeze, “to.”

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

“You have to get better P or coach will kill us both if you end up missing practice.”

“Going on a date with you would make me feel better.”

“Okay,” Azzi sighs, realising she needs to change tactics, “we’ll make a compromise. You’re gonna change-” she raises a hand when Paige tries to interrupt, “you’re gonna change and lie down, and if you don’t fall asleep in the next 10 minutes, we’ll go on the date.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrow in concentration as she mulls it over, before a scheming glint appears in her eyes, “okay but on one condition,” her grabby hands reach for Azzi’s waist, a soft smile playing on her chapped lips, “you have to lie down with me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes fondly, letting the blonde pull her into her arms, her own hands encircling Paige���s back as the older girl snuggles into her neck with a content sigh. This is her happy place. In any room, anywhere, as long as she’s cocooned in Paige’s embrace, there’s a sense of serenity that seems to flood into Azzi’s veins. 

“I could fall asleep here,” Paige murmurs, hot breath fanning against Azzi’s collarbone, “you’re so comfortable.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to physically manoeuvre Paige onto the bed which only elicits a smirk against her skin. 

“If you wanted me in your bed Az, you could have just asked,” the older girl wiggles her eyebrows, earning her a small push from Azzi as Paige drags them both down into a mess of limbs and pillows. Cerulean blue eyes stare up at Azzi, a little bloodshot from the impending fever, but still blisteringly brilliant with love. It scares Azzi sometimes, to see all that emotion swimming in Paige’s eyes, all for her and it scares her even more to know that same pool of you’re it for me is reflected in her own too. Sometimes she worries they’re too young for this, too young to feel so much but then Paige smiles, and all of Azzi’s doubt flies away as she lets herself believe in forever. 

***

Paige doesn’t even really make it past five minutes, her sick body giving into the tiredness as she cuddles into Azzi, arms splayed over the younger girl's torso, as she keeps her head buried in her shoulder. There’s a content smile on her face as Azzi continues to run her hands through silky blond hair, brushing out tiny knots and waiting a couple of minutes, before she detaches herself from her girlfriend and heads to the kitchen. She’s not the greatest of chefs, but she’d like to think she’s skilled enough to try and make something that at least resembles chicken noodle soup. 

Azzi’s almost done when she feels a blanket being wrapped around her, two arms coming to wrap around her waist as she feels the weight of Paige’s chest pressed against her back, the older girl's head coming to rest in the crook of Azzi’s neck. 

“You’re already awake,” Azzi whispers, leaning her head back so she can brush her lips against Paige’s temple. 

Paige grunts, her voice nasally when she speaks, “you left and I was cold.”

“I have like three blankets on my bed you could’ve used.”

“Don’t wanna use blankets. Wanna use you,” Paige whispers, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s neck, making the younger girl shiver, “you’re much warmer.”

“Go pick out a movie to watch, I’m almost done with this.”

She can’t see it but Azzi can practically feel Paige’s raised eyebrows, as she dramatically sniffs the air, “you cooked? Babe I’m already sick, are you trying to get me sicker?”

“Wow. I slave over the kitchen for you for hours-”

“Maybe half-”

“HOURS! And you have the audacity to question my cooking when all you can make is buffalo chicken dip?”

“Hey, you love my buffalo chicken dip.”

“You keep telling yourself that baby.”

“It’s not nice to be  mean to your sick girlfriend,” Paige snickers as she makes her way to the couch in  Azzi’s room. 

“So you admit you’re sick then?” 

“Only sick to my stomach at whatever you’re gonna feed me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, pouring the soup into a bowl. She secretly loves when they get like this. It’s a reminder that no matter what other label they eventually put on their relationship, Paige will always be her best friend first. As soon as Azzi sits down on the couch, Paige is all over her, knowing exactly how to shrink her body so that all 6’0 of her fits perfectly on her girlfriend’s lap. This is Azzi’s favourite version of Paige really, the soft vulnerable babygirl that’s only for Azzi’s eyes, a far cry from the ultimate rizzler the rest of the world sees.

“Feed me,” Paige pouts and Azzi shakes her head fondly but does as she’s asked, holding a spoonful of chicken noodle soup in front of Paige’s mouth.

“Thought you were scared of my cooking?”

“Oh I am but the things we do for love,” the blonde says dramatically before letting Azzi feed her, “huh, that’s not half bad baby.”

“High compliments,” Azzi says mock-seriously, as she tries her own spoonful, “oh I kinda ate that.”

They both dissolve into giggles at that, falling into a comfortable conversation as Azzi takes turns feeding both herself and Paige, the dull rumbling of some random movie behind them. 

“You’re always taking care of me,” Paige says softly after a while, hand caressing Azzi’s left arm as she lies against her chest, feeling her heartbeat underneath her fingertips. 

“Someone has to,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s hair, “you take care of everyone else and I take care of you.”

“Sorry I ruined our date but trust, I’mma make it up to you,” Paige mumbles sleepily, digging herself further into Azzi’s arms if that’s even possible. 

“I’m sure you will baby.”

“I love you.”

“Love you more P.”

And if in two days, Azzi’s the one that’s sick and Paige’s attempt at making chicken noodle soup goes even worse, well, let’s just say it’s a good thing they have NIL deals and can afford a chef in the future.

4. me i fall in love with you every single day (and i just wanna tell you i am)

“Where are you taking me?” Azzi giggles, hands outstretched as she tries to navigate the path in front of her, despite being blindfolded. The salty sea air brushes through her hair, as she places one foot in front of another, letting Paige’s hands on her waist guide her across the cruise ship. 

“Be patient, we’re almost there,” Paige whispers against her ear, nervous anticipation building in her stomach. She’s been planning this night from the moment they’d booked the cruise tickets, wanting everything to be as near to perfect as possible. The thing is, they’ve been on plenty of dates, some even before they’d officially started calling them dates. But most of those dates have had to be carefully constructed away from prying eyes, their hands itching to hold the others but forced to dangle by their sides so they could keep up a façade in public, that this was just friends hanging out. The cruise is the perfect spot for a private date, one where Paige wouldn’t have to keep her hands to herself, not that she’s done a good job of that the whole trip anyway. But she’s found the perfect secret spot and spent just a little bit of money, to make sure the other cruise goers wouldn’t bother them tonight. 

“Are we there yet?” Azzi whines and Paige can’t help but laugh, finally pulling them to a stop.

“So impatient,” she tuts as she finally pulls away Azzi’s satin pink blindfold. 

“Yes well I’m star-oh…” Azzi blinks, eyes adjusting to the light as they flitter over her surroundings, the words being stolen from her lips as an awed look takes over her features, “Paige.”

“You like?” Paige bites her lips nervously.

“Do I like? Baby, this is beautiful,” tears sparkle in Azzi’s eyes as she loops her arms around Paige’s neck, “it’s perfect.”

They’re standing on the bow of the cruise ship. In the distance, the island they’re docked at, is illuminated by lights, making it shimmer against the dark night sky. A table for two sits at the helm of the ship, adorned in a purple velvet table cloth. There are candles and pink and white rose petals scattered all across the floor, with a small path carved out in between so they can walk to the table. On the table, there’s a customised crystal centrepiece with their names carved into it and inside it is a bouquet made of pictures of them. It’s a little cliché really, especially for two people whose path to each other had been anything but traditional but all Paige has ever wished for is a moment of normalcy with Azzi, a moment where they’re not star players, just two girls in love, enjoying a typical date night, a moment where they’re just PaigeAndAzzi. 

“When did you even have time to plan all of this?” Azzi marvels out loud, as Paige pulls out a chair for her. 

“I have my ways,” the blonde says with a smirk, taking a seat opposite her girlfriend and reaching to entwine their hands together. 

“You didn’t have to do this P.”

Paige shrugs, “I wanted to. We deserve this.”

Azzi nods, squeezing Paige’s hand because god knows they do deserve this. It’s been a hellish year if they’re honest. The highs had been wonderful but the lows, god the lows had felt like the ground being pulled from beneath their feet as they gripped each other, holding onto the only thing in their lives that felt like a reprieve from the darkness that swirled around them. And really that’s it Paige thinks, life can throw whatever it wants at her, but as long as she has Azzi, she’ll learn to survive it. 

“You wanna dance?” Paige asks, when they’ve finally finished eating, somehow managing to find a way to hold hands throughout the whole three course meal. As if on cue, a violin quartet appears onto the deck, and Azzi laughs at the coincidence. It’s Paige’s favourite sound in the whole wide world. 

“You’re such a sap,” Azzi teases fondly as she lets Paige lead them onto the floor, “how many romcoms did you watch to come up with this whole thing?”

“Dude, are you doubting my abilities to come up with a perfect date?”

“I would never,” Azzi swears, leaning her cheek against Paige’s, “but seriously Bueckers, you’ve outdone yourself.”

The melody of “thinking out loud” on the violin with the light thrum of the sounds of the wind and the ocean, creates the perfect orchestra for them to sway to, as they press every inch of themselves into each other, trying to lose themselves in the other’s arm. That feeling of home, a resounding peace, echoes throughout Paige’s skull and she thinks if there was ever a memory she’d want to replay over and over again, it would be this one. 

“I’m gonna miss this,” Paige whispers, “being with you like this?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“No I know- I just- I like being able to be us in public like we have this last week. I like not pretending.”

“What if-,” Azzi pulls back a little, eyes locking with Paige’s, “what if we didn’t pretend?”

Paige searches for a shred of hesitance in Azzi’s face, but finds nothing but complete resoluteness and a grin breaks out on her own face, “what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that even if we don’t say anything, maybe we don’t have to try and hide everything all the time either. I’m saying,” Azzi bites her lips, shyly smiling, “if you wanna hold my hand when we’re in public sometimes, you- you can if- if you want to.”

“I really, really, really want to,” Paige breathes against the brunette’s lips, hands rubbing circles against her waist. 

“Good,” Azzi whispers back, “because I really, really, really want you to.”

[oskea93]

Kansas Anymore (1)

Tyler Owens x OC

Summary: In which Riley Owens, the ex-wife of the infamous Tornado Wrangler, has 36 hours to come to terms if moving to a whole new country with their small daughter is something she truly wants to do.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, suggested smut, fluff.

If you would like to be tagged, just drop a comment ❤️

“Darling, I don’t understand why he’s making you come to him when he’s perfectly capable of flying out to see her. Is he afraid he’s going to miss a gust of wind and all his little cronies on the internet will stop following his every move?” My mother’s frustration was palpable, her voice cutting through the hum of the car engine.

I stayed silent, the roar of the car on the two-lane road answering in my place. My mother’s loud sigh sounded through the speakers; a noise filled with years of pent-up exasperation. “I’ve never seen a man so self-centered as that one – going around chasing tornados like some kind of deranged jackass.”

An innocent chuckle sounded from the seat behind me. I glanced in the rearview mirror to see Caroline’s little hands folded in front of her face, her bright eyes staring out the window at the passing scenery. The sight of her brought a small smile to my lips, even as my mother’s words lingered in the air.

“Mom, it’s just how he is,” I finally said, my voice tinged with resignation. “Tyler’s always been about the thrill, the excitement. He’s never been one for settling down or thinking about anyone else’s needs.”

“And yet, here you are, always the one making the effort,” she replied, her tone softening slightly. “It’s just not fair to you or to Caroline. She deserves to have her father in her life, not just in fleeting moments when it suits him.”

I leaned my head into the headrest, feeling the weight of the conversation starting to drain me. “Yeah, well, that’s the way we decided, and it’s worked so far,” I replied, my voice lacking its usual conviction.

Mom’s response was immediate, her concern piercing through the speakers. “Well, are you going to tell him that this might be the last time he gets to see her for a while? You have to let him know about your promotion – you can’t just drop that you’re moving to another country with the man’s child over the phone or in a message, Riley.”

I sighed deeply, frustration washing over me. “I know, Mom. It’s just... complicated. Tyler’s never been good with this kind of news. He’ll probably accuse me of trying to take Caroline away from him, even though he’s the one who’s always too busy to be around.”

Mom stayed silent for a moment; her pause filled with unspoken thoughts. “Well, it’s his loss anyway,” she finally said, her voice matter of fact. “I know of plenty of children that grew up without a father and they are doin—”

“Tyler’s always gonna be in Caroline’s life, Mom,” I interrupted, my voice raising just a bit, careful not to get too loud in front of my daughter. “I would never take her away from him – no matter how far away we are from each other.”

My mother sighed on the other end. “I’m just looking out for my granddaughter is all.”

“And I appreciate that, but this is between Tyler and me – not you or anyone else I’m sure you’re gonna blab to.”

My mother huffed on the other end, clearly taken aback by my bluntness. “Riley, I’m only trying to help. You know how much I care about you and Caroline.”

“I know, Mom,” I said, rubbing my temple as I tried to keep my frustration in check. “But I need to handle this my way. Tyler and I need to figure this out ourselves.”

“Fine,” she relented, though her tone still carried a hint of disapproval. “Just promise me you’ll keep me updated.”

“I will,” I assured her. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Don’t forge-,” The call ending before she could finish the sentence.

The car returned to a peaceful state – the only sound heard being that of the show playing on the monitor built into the driver’s seat. The same cartoon that Caroline had been watching for the past two months. Her laughter and the occasional gasp of excitement were the background music to my thoughts as I navigated the familiar streets.

“There’s Daddy’s sign!” Caroline’s voice pierced through my reverie, her little finger pointing eagerly at the familiar landmark.

The fueling station’s parking lot was filled with vehicles that strived to get on the same level as Tyler – the amateurs were always my favorite to watch – trying so hard to get to his attention but backing down once the storm got too close for comfort. Most of them just crowded around him and the gang to witness the spectacle that they displayed. Tyler was the Tornado Wrangler – a title that nearly cost him his life on multiple occasions and demolished our marriage in an F4 fashion.

Tyler’s passion for chasing storms had always been a point of contention between us. The danger, the unpredictability, the constant threat – it was a lifestyle I could never fully accept. And yet, here I was, bringing Caroline to see her father, the man who danced with tornadoes and lived to tell the tale.

I slowly pulled behind a group of professional vehicles, a far cry from noticeable red truck that sat feet away as the man of the hour towered over those in attendance – Boone and Dani passing out t-shirts to those around.

Caroline’s smile never faltering as she kept her eyes on her father, “Daddy’s being silly.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her reaction – a reaction only Tyler could evoke. “Daddy’s always silly, isn’t he?” Her head nodded enthusiastically. I placed the car in park and started gathering my purse, the sound of Caroline’s car seat buckles clanging as she hastily unbuckled herself. “Hold your horses, munchkin.”

She was already halfway out of her seat, her small hands fumbling with the door handle. Her excitement was infectious, and despite my reservations about Tyler’s lifestyle, moments like these made it all seem worth it. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, the warm summer air wrapping around us.

Caroline bounced out of the car, her eyes wide with anticipation. She grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the crowd where Tyler was still holding court. Boone and Dani noticing us first, their faces breaking into welcoming smiles. It had been over a year since I had seen them in person, their kindness towards me never faltering even after the divorce was finalized.

“If you feel it—” Tyler’s bright smile beamed out to the audience, a real showman.

“Chase it!” The crowd shouted back, including the four-year-old at my side, catching her father’s attention in a matter of seconds.

I watched as he hopped down from the truck, the sea of onlookers parting like the Red Sea as his arms wrapped around her small body.

Caroline squealed with delight as Tyler lifted her into the air, spinning her around before pulling her close for a tight hug. Her laughter echoed through the parking lot, a sound so pure and joyous that it made everything else fade into the background.

"There's my little storm chaser," Tyler said, his voice filled with warmth. He gently set her down, and she looked up at him with wide, excited eyes. "Did you have a good flight?"

Caroline's head nodded excitedly. "Mommy yelled at the man sitting behind us because he kept hitting the back of her seat," she blurted out, her eyes wide with innocence. Tyler chuckled, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow. "Is that so?"

I sighed, a bit embarrassed, but unable to suppress a smile. "Well, he was being rude." My shoulders shrugged. "Someone had to put him in his place."

Tyler shook his head, the smile I had fallen for years ago plastered on his scruffed face. "Riled up Riley," he teased, his eyes connecting with mine. "Glad you're sharing that with others and not just me."

I rolled my eyes playfully but couldn't help the warmth that spread through me at his words. "You know me, always fighting the good fight."

Tyler nodded, his gaze lingering on Caroline for a moment before he turned back to me. "Thanks for bringing her out here."

"No problem," I said, watching as Caroline laid her head on his shoulder, her tiny fingers gripping his shirt. "She’s been talking about it all week – about drove me crazy, to be honest." We both chuckled, sharing a moment of amusement.

Tyler's eyes softened as he looked down at Caroline, who was now playing with the collar of his shirt. "I'm glad she's excited. I’ve missed her so much." He gently kissed the top of her head, and she giggled softly.

“She missed you too," I said, my voice quiet but filled with emotion.

The unavoidable conversation of Caroline and I leaving the US for dreary old England was pushed to the wayside for the moment. This was Tyler’s moment with her – I didn’t want to ruin it before it truly even started.

[dovesdreaming]

The eye of the storm

Summary: it takes reader getting injured while out storm chasing with Kate for her to realise she loves reader.

Request

Masterlist

Warnings: none

-

The air was thick with anticipation as Kate Carter checked her weather radar one last time. The storm was brewing, and today promised to be one of the most intense chases yet. But before the whirlwind of adrenaline could sweep her away, she paused, glancing over at you. You were sitting on the tailgate of the truck, your eyes scanning the horizon, already lost in the possibilities of the chase ahead. The sky was overcast, the kind of gray that held a promise. A promise of thunder, of lightning, of something exhilarating. But for Kate, at that moment, the only thing that mattered was you.

“You ready for this?" she asked, walking over to you while slightly tilting her head, her voice teasing but warm. You turned to her, a smile breaking through the excitement. "Ready as I'll ever be. Though, I have to admit, it feels like we're waiting for something to happen more than usual”.

Kate chuckled, leaning against the truck beside you. "Isn't that always the case with storms? They keep us on edge until they decide to show their hand”. “True" you said, your gaze meeting hers. "But maybe it's not just the storm keeping me on edge this time” you teased, this was common for you and Kate to do. Always finding new ways to slightly and discreetly flirt with one another, yet nothing ever came of the comments, maybe that was for the better even if you wished something would.

She tilted her head slightly, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh? And what else could possibly be making you nervous?". “Maybe it's the thought of spending the entire day with you” you admitted, your voice dropping to a more serious tone, which was unusual for you and kate, usually trying to keep the air light especially before a chase. For a moment, Kate was taken aback, but the warmth in your eyes softened her reaction. She reached out, her hand brushing against yours. "You don't need to be nervous about that. We're in this together, remember?". You nodded, squeezing her hand gently. "I know. I just... I want to make sure you're safe out there”. Kate smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for you, and it tugged at her heart in a way she hadn't expected. She had always been focused on the chase, on the science, on the thrill. But now, there was something else or rather, someone else, who made her want to be more than just a storm chaser. “Same goes for you” she replied softly, her thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "I'll keep you safe, promise”.

You shared a quiet moment, the impending storm momentarily forgotten as you both reveled in the quiet before it all began. It was a simple, comfortable silence, the kind that made everything else feel distant, like the eye of the storm where all was calm and still. “Guess we should get going," you finally said, breaking the silence before you became too absorbed in the moment and the usual gaping hole could open in your stomach to crush any hope you had for things between you and Kate. “Yeah” Kate agreed, though she found herself reluctant to let go of your hand. "Let's catch ourselves a tornado”.

The chase had been everything you'd anticipated, chaotic, intense, and absolutely thrilling. The storm system was stronger than any you'd encountered together before, and for hours you and Kate had worked seamlessly, driving through rough terrain, dodging debris, and getting as close as safely possible to the swirling vortexes that danced across the plains. But as the storm began to wind down, so did your luck.

You’d been repositioning, trying to get a better angle on a particularly photogenic funnel cloud when the unexpected happened. A rogue gust of wind, more powerful than either of you had anticipated, hit the truck. Before you could react, the vehicle was flipped, and the world turned into a violent blur.

When the dust settled, Kate found herself crawling out of the wreckage, her ears ringing, but otherwise unharmed. The same couldn’t be said for you. Panic gripped her as she called out your name, her voice breaking as she saw you lying on the ground, a few feet from where the truck had landed. You were unconscious, blood seeping from a gash on your forehead. “No, no, no” Kate muttered, rushing to your side. She pressed her fingers to your neck, relieved to feel a faint but steady pulse. But you were hurt, badly. She could see the pain in your features even as you remained unconscious. “Stay with me, please” she whispered, her hands trembling as she reached for the emergency kit she always kept in the truck. She did her best to stop the bleeding, to keep you stable, but the fear that she was losing you gnawed at her insides. The wind whipped at her face and hands as she patched you up the best she could, she felt like ice but her mind was focused on keeping you alive. She kept her body close to yours and never let her eyes stray away from you.

In that moment, surrounded by the fading storm and the wreckage of what had been such a promising day, Kate realized just how much you meant to her. This was more than a partnership, more than a shared thrill for chasing the storms and a whole lot more than a friendship. She loved you-deeply, completely. The thought of losing you was more terrifying than any tornado she’d ever faced. “Don’t you dare leave me”she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. “You can’t leave before I even got to tell you I love you, I can’t do this without you!” She half yelled now with tears brimming her eyes, the majority of her words were swept away with the wind.

It took an eternity for help to arrive, but Kate never left your side. When the paramedics finally took over, she was there, holding your hand, refusing to let go even when the paramedics asked her to. Hours later, after surgery and countless prayers whispered under her breath, Kate sat by your hospital bed. You were stable, the doctors had said atleast. You were going to be okay. The relief was overwhelming, and for the first time in what felt like days, she allowed herself to breathe. As you stirred awake, your eyes slowly fluttering open, Kate leaned in, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Hey” you croaked, your voice weak but unmistakably you. Kate smiled through the tears that had started to form. “Hey yourself. You scared the hell out of me, you know that?”. You gave a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. I’m guessing the truck’s seen better days too?”. She chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Yeah, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re okay”. There was a long pause, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air between you. Finally, Kate took a deep breath, her hand still holding yours.

“I love you” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, the words escaping no longer being able to be trapped inside her. “I’ve never said it before, but I do. And I’m not going to waste another second pretending otherwise”. She rambled but you didn’t hear much after that as your eyes softened as you squeezed her hand. “I love you too, Kate. And I’m not going anywhere. Not without you”. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, careful of your bandages. “Good. Because I can’t lose you. Not now, not ever”.

As you drifted back to sleep, still weak but safe, Kate stayed by your side, holding your hand as the storm outside finally faded into nothing. And in the quiet aftermath, she knew that this was where she belonged, with you, in the calm after the storm.

-

Thank you for reading!

[txmxkis]

you're the best one

pairing. kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader

genre. fluff

wc. 1k+

summary. all you're trying to do is make kuroo's birthday cake, but things can never just be straightforward.

warnings. nothing, really, just tooth-rotting fluff. kuroo is a menace as usual. very selfship coded as always >.<

a/n. i actually managed to do it i hope you're proud of me hopefully it's good idk. happy birthday to the #1 husband <3

there is flour everywhere.

you shouldn’t have expected anything different to come of this, really.

every time kuroo helps you bake something, he feels some sort of uncontrollable urge to make a mess, and since today is his birthday, it seems as if he’s leaning even more into that “i can do whatever i want, and you can’t get upset with me for it” attitude.

you always start out with good intentions and a plan… actually, you’re usually fairly clean and organized in the kitchen.

that is, until he comes blowing through like a tall tornado, leaving you with debris scattered everywhere. he just makes it so easy to lose all sense of control and let go of any reservations you may have had.

this cake has taken twice as long to make with him around, but you can’t necessarily complain. about the mess, yes you could, but you do like spending time with him regardless. since it’s his day, you can even let the mess go.

after a number of detours incited by the birthday boy, you finally got the cake squared away in the oven and got started on the frosting.

he was practically panting watching you mix it up, waiting ever so impatiently for the moment he could finally steal a taste.

of course it had to be when your back was turned to check the oven. obviously with his finger instead of a spoon.

“uhh… why is this frosting… salty?”

“are you messing with me right now.”

“not this time, taste it.”

he holds out a finger full of frosting and you give him a skeptical look, licking it off after a moment of hesitation.

“ugh! what the hell? hold on, i can fix it.”

you spend the next ten minutes adding other ingredients, trying to balance them out and mellow the bitterness, cursing every time you stop to test it while he watches you intently.

“i don’t get it; i followed the recipe exactly… i’m so confused.”

he just stands there and stares at you for another moment, face morphing into a sly grin. you’re oblivious, so focused on figuring out where you could have possibly gone wrong, giving him ample opportunity to swipe his finger through the bowl again and smear a dollop of frosting directly on your nose.

“tetsurou! wh—”

“looked like you could use a break.”

shocked, you just stand there dumbly while he laughs at you, face smudged. finally, you snap out of it and shoot him a menacing glare—half playing around, half ready to enact revenge.

the urge for vengeance wins, and the thought of contributing to the kitchen’s disarray does not even matter to you anymore.

“ohhhh, you are so gonna get it.”

gathering two fingerfuls of frosting, you stalk towards him slowly, waiting for the right moment to pounce and make a mess of his face.

“really? seems like you’d have to catch me first.”

he feigns being lost in thought for a split second and then whoosh! he springs into action, using those stupidly long legs to his advantage.

you’re yelling at him to come back, or trying to yell through your barely contained laughter.

you start to chase after him, but, well, this is exactly the wrong moment to be wearing socks on hardwood floors.

suddenly you slip, and the floor is much closer to you than it was just a second ago. you’re fine, about to scramble back up and continue the hunt, but an idea strikes you.

surely he heard the crash of you hitting the floor from wherever he ran off to; surely he cares too much to not return to the scene and investigate, make sure you’re okay.

in fact, you don’t even have time to continue with your plotting before you hear him calling out to ask what that noise was, his voice getting louder as he reappears from around the corner.

you grin deviously. his weakness.

you decide to stay sitting on the floor where you fell, keeping your head down and your hair hanging over your eyes, waiting for him to get closer before enacting your plan.

“did you fall? are you alright?”

it takes everything in you not to giggle and give yourself away.

he finally gets to you and kneels down on the floor, putting a hand on your back and trying to get a glimpse of your face.

this is it.

you quickly reach over and push him down until he’s lying on the ground, moving to sit yourself directly on his middle.

“h-hey!”

“shouldn’t have let your guard down.”

“well, that was a terribly dirty trick.”

“just using the methods available to me.”

“doesn’t the fact that it’s my birthday mean that you should let me off the hook?”

you don’t speak immediately in response; just take the frosting that you’ve been so careful to preserve on your fingers and slowly smear it across his face in victory.

“nope.”

he puts a hand dramatically over his chest and sighs loudly.

“you’ve shown me your true colors.”

“horrifying aren’t they.”

you feel a hand on the back of your neck, and suddenly he’s pulling you down to kiss you, the taste of salt from the frosting that’s smeared across your faces intertwining with the taste of him.

“nope.”

heat rises to your face, the way he’s staring at you only aggravating it.

the timer for the oven promptly cuts through your moment, and you start to get up off him, only to be pulled back in for another kiss, this one slower and more languid than the last. pulling back, kuroo smirks at your slightly dazed expression.

“yum.”

you smack him on the chest, smiling shyly while rolling your eyes at his antics.

“shut up. let me up so that i can take care of the cake.”

“fineeee.”

the both of you get up off the floor, and you remove the cake from the oven to cool.

you give up on the frosting after trying it one last time, groaning in aggravation.

“we better at least make it look pretty, cause no one’s gonna want to eat it.”

he walks up and hugs you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“eh, it’s fine. makin’ it was the best part anyway.”

reblogs & interactions are appreciated! thank you for reading! <3 — txmxkis

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 4

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: The next morning, you get to learn a little more about Tyler's past and what makes him the way he is. But after he introduces you to his crew, you find out some things that have you second-guessing your connection with him... Word Count: 3847 TW: Fluff, Flirting, Doubt, Developing Feelings, Unrequited Feelings (or are they...), Description of Reader's Clothes Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

The next morning, Tyler knocked on your door at exactly 7:30. You were actually pretty sure you heard him walk up a few minutes before, but you hadn’t peeked out because you wanted to see how long he would stand there before announcing himself. However, the second he knocked, you swung open the door with your bag slung over your shoulder and your sunglasses snuggly settled on your face. Tyler’s hand was still raised, leaning forward to knock again, and he was taken off guard. You bit your lip to hide your smile as he quickly caught himself and straightened up. 

He was wearing what appeared to be the same boots and jeans from the night before (you had noticed a small oil stain on his right thigh when he was driving), but he had exchanged his flannel shirt for a dark maroon long-sleeved denim button-down, his sunglasses tucked into the collar. And of course, his off-white cowboy hat was proudly perched on top of his head.

You, on the other hand, had opted for an outfit rather different from the one you wore the previous night. Gone was the plunging, sheer top and itty-bitty cut-offs. Instead, you chose a comfortably fitting faded band shirt and mid-thigh cargo shorts. You had spent way too long considering your attire for the day and what Tyler may think of each option, but you finally settled on something less impressive but more yourself. It still made you feel attractive, yet comfortable.

And based on the way his eyes roamed across your body, Tyler approved of this decision. “Good morning, sweetheart. You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Thank you,” you said, stepping out into the hall and using the fact you had to lock the door as a reason to hide your face for a moment. “I wasn’t sure what one was supposed to wear to go tornado wranglin’ but this seemed like a safe choice.”

“Unlike your brother’s team, we don’t do uniforms or dress codes so whatever you wanted to wear would have been fine. In fact, just for the hell of it, Boone and I have gone on a few chases wearing nothing at all. But you won’t see those videos on our YouTube channel.” He winked at you before sliding your backpack off your shoulder and placing it on his own. Then he added, “Don’t get me wrong, I loved what you were wearing last night too, but this just…it feels more you.”

The butterflies that had laid dormant since last night once again sprang to life in your stomach. “Seems you’ve got me figured out pretty quickly there, Mr. Owens. Anything else you’ve noticed about me?”

“Let’s see…” Placing his arm over your shoulder, he began to steer you towards the stairs as he thought. “You have a sarcastic, confident shell you hide behind so people don’t see how vulnerable you feel. You know how to use your looks to your advantage in certain situations, but otherwise seem to forget how breathtaking you are. And—” you had started to turn at his last comment, but he placed his finger under your chin and tilted your head towards him “—you like to hide your face when someone compliments you, though I’m not sure yet if it’s because you don’t want them to see how their words affect you or if you don’t think you deserve the praise. Maybe a bit of both.”

You shifted under the weight of his sage-green gaze. “You make me sound like I’m heading into a battle with my armor, my weapon, and my shield.” 

“Maybe you are. Is that how it feels to you?”

In fact, it sometimes was, though you weren’t going to admit that. You rolled your eyes instead, trying to hide how rattled you were by his spot-on assessment. “Geez, and here I thought you were a tornado wrangler, not a therapist.” Shifting the topic off of yourself, you asked, “When did you learn to read people so well?”

Now it was Tyler’s turn to become uncomfortable. His eyes flickered away for the first time and he muttered, “...I’d rather not say.”

If he had seemed hurt or sad or uneasy as the two of you made your way down to the first floor, you would have dropped it immediately. However, the way he avoided eye contact now after just staring at you so intently, plus the slight redness spreading up his neck and face, told you he was hiding it for a very different reason. And after all the times you had been embarrassed in front of him, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go. 

You slipped from under his arm and turned to face him as you reached the top of the stairs. “Well, now you have to tell me! You can’t just tease me with something like that and expect me to drop it! Besides, all we’ve done since we met is talk about me and my messed up life. Let me learn something about you for once.”

He sighed, chewing on the inside of his lip, then said, “Okay, you asked.” As the two of you began walking down to the ground floor, he said, “Back before I got into storm chasing, I used to compete in the rodeo circuit.”

“Really?” you asked. “I didn’t know that. Have you ever mentioned that on your channel?”

“Nah. It was another life. But, one of the things you learn when you’re left staring down a 2,000-pound bull is how to be observant. You gotta notice every little shift or twitch he makes to predict what he’s gonna do and how to stay outta his way. And after a while, it just becomes a habit you do with everyone you meet.”

You raised one eyebrow. “Oh, so you noticed all those things about me because you were examining me like a bull about to charge you?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he chuckled. “Which is why I didn’t want to tell you. Most girls don’t tend to like it when you compare them to a cow.” 

“Well, I’m not most girls,” you said as you reached the bottom of the stairs and faced him once more.

He smiled, his eyes sparkling in the morning light. “I’ve noticed. You’re definitely keeping me on my toes.”

“Oh?” you asked, taking a step closer to him. “Afraid you won’t get out of my way in time?”

He leaned over until the brim of his hat just grazed the top of your head. “I haven’t decided if I want to yet.”

Staring into his eyes, you felt that same zap of electricity from the night before zooming through your body. You watched his tongue peek out, slowly wet his lips, and, without meaning to, you leaned in closer until—

Slam!

Jumping at the loud noise to your left, you and Tyler both turned to see Scott glaring at the two of you as the Storm PAR team swarmed around their vehicles, loading up their gear. Scott had just slammed the sliding door on the van marked “Wizard” and, after spitting his gum on the ground and popping in a new piece, eyes trained on you the entire time, he climbed into the front seat of Scarecrow and started the engine. You saw Javi approaching Lion and he lifted his hand, giving you a small, apologetic smile that you returned. Then he climbed into the truck and the Storm PAR team pulled out of the lot. 

Whatever spell you and Tyler had been under now broken, you resumed walking towards the cluster of Wranglers’ vehicles. There was an awkward tension in the air you had never felt around him before and, in an attempt to break it, you asked, “So, is that how you read tornados so well? You approach them the same way you approached a bull?”

He shrugged, seemingly as happy to get back to the earlier conversation as you were. “More or less. There’s more science that goes into it but you just have to make careful observations and then, ultimately, go with your gut. Even if that means ignoring what all the data is telling you.”

“And that works?”

“Most of the time.”

“And when it doesn’t?”

He grinned as he approached the side of an old, beat-up camper van. “Then you better hope you have a great team watching your back.” With that, he banged twice on the side of the van.

The doors flew open and four people jumped out. You recognized them all from their YouTube videos as the other members of Tyler’s crew, but you couldn’t remember any of their names except for Boone. He was the other man you had seen with Tyler in the diner parking lot when you first arrived and he always manned the handheld camera in the videos, making commentary and jokes as Tyler drove them into a storm.

Tyler quickly introduced you to everyone. He had already filled them in on who you were and that you would be riding with them for the next week or so. You had been slightly worried about how they would feel about you tagging along given how Scott had responded to the idea of you going on a chase. However, they swarmed around you excitedly and immediately began to chat about how much you were going to love your first storm as if you had known them for ages.

It was such a stark difference from your brother’s reaction. Where he was instantly dismissive and challenged your bravery, each and every one of the Wranglers welcomed you with open arms, giving you heads-ups about what it would be like out there and assuring you it was fine to react in different ways. They even shared their various first storm chases and how they had responded (it was comforting to know that even Boone, who seemed as reckless and wild—if not more so—as Tyler, had torn a vocal chord “screaming like a little girl” the first time Tyler had planted the truck in the middle of a storm).

Your head was on a constant swivel as each of your four new friends talked over one another, and as you moved to turn from Dexter explaining the different tracking equipment the crew used to monitor storms to Dani explaining the upgrades that had been made to Tyler’s truck, you caught sight of Tyler. He was several feet away from the mob surrounding you, leaning his shoulder against the van with his arms folded across his chest, amusement gleaming in his eyes as he watched the chaos around you. Seeing the slight panic in your eyes, he chuckled softly to himself before pushing off the side of the van and clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“All right guys, give her room to breathe. She’ll be here for at least a week so no need to tell her your whole life stories in the first five minutes. She’s still getting used to things around here and we don’t wanna scare her off.” As they all apologized and backed away, you tried to assure them you were fine but Tyler came over and placed his hands on your shoulders. “It’s alright, sweetheart, we’re just all a little excited to have some fresh blood around here. Now, Dexter, is there any breakfast left? I’m starved and I doubt she’s eaten either.”

You tried to insist you were fine, but the words died in your throat as Dexter opened the door to the camper van and the sticky sweet smell of freshly syruped pancakes hit your nose, eliciting a loud growl from your stomach. Tyler must have heard it because he chuckled and began directing you towards the van, walking behind you as he steered you by your shoulders. 

As you ate, it was decided that today you would ride in the camper van with Dani and Dexter so you could get close to the storms, yet not have to immediately dive into one. At first, you wanted to object, thinking they meant that figuratively. But then you remembered the videos you had seen of Tyler and Boone driving straight into the center of a tornado, and, realizing they meant that literally, you agreed it was probably for the best. Part of you wanted to impress Tyler and jump into his truck anyway, but Scott’s comment that you would get too scared and force his team to end the chase early echoed in your mind. 

You were still a little disappointed Tyler’s “embarrassing secret” he had tried to keep hidden this morning was not embarrassing at all. Instead, you had just prodded him into sharing something that made him seem infinitely cooler than he already had. And, once again, you were reminded of the fact that since you two had met, you had spent the majority of the time either complaining about how much of a jerk your brother was, how shitty of a person you used to be, or crying into his shoulder. Meanwhile, here he was, this daredevil tornado wrangler who learned how to read people by staring down deadly bulls for a living and looked like most women’s cowboy wet dream come to life. 

You wanted to prove to him that you were more than what he had seen so far—that you were worthy of all the time and attention he was giving you. If you told Tyler you wanted to ride with him, you had no doubt he would let you. But what if Scott was right and you freaked out as soon as you neared a tornado? What if you had a panic attack or somehow caused the Wranglers to turn back instead of diving into the storm? They made their money—money they used to help others—from their videos. A video they would not be able to post if they couldn’t record a storm because you were having a complete meltdown. 

So, at least for today, you climbed into the back of the camper van as everyone got ready to chase their first storm of the day.

Dani and Dexter were an interesting pair. Dani was brash and loud, riding with her boots propped up on the dashboard as she slouched in her seat, all the while telling you jokes and poking fun at the other Wranglers. Dexter was more reserved at first, but the longer Dani talked, the more comfortable he seemed and he began joining in. You could tell by how they interacted, often speaking over the other or laughing at a joke before it got to the punchline, that they spent a lot of time together and had a close bond. It was really nice to see. You thought about how stiff and professional the members of Storm PAR seemed and you found yet another reason to be thankful Scott had turned you away. There was no way you would be having this much fun with his team.

As time went on and the clouds above you began to darken, Dexter began to explain how storms were formed, what kinds of conditions were necessary for them, the destruction they could cause, and how much scientists still didn’t know about them. Dani rested her head in her hand, looking half-asleep as she struggled to listen to information you were sure she had heard a million times before, but you were captivated.

Just as Dexter began telling you how the radar in the center console worked, the radio crackled to life and Tyler’s voice, distorted slightly through the ancient speaker, came through. “You okay back there, sweetheart?” Dani picked up the receiver and passed it back to you. “Dani and Dexter aren’t just bickering the whole time, are they?”

You laughed as both Dani and Dexter objected to that statement. “No, they’re great. Dexter’s been teaching me all about the science behind the storms. It’s been much more interesting than those dry reports Scotty left behind.” You saw Dexter beaming in the rearview mirror and you smiled back at him.

“Well, just don’t let him get started on funnel formation or you might change your mind.” Dexter shot a stern glance at the radio as Dani looked out the window, swallowing a laugh. Then, lowering his voice slightly so it felt like he was speaking to you and you alone, Tyler said, “I can’t wait to get you up here with me so I can show you the storm through my eyes.”

Clutching the radio closer to your face, you smiled softly. “That sounds amazing. I can’t wait. And Tyler, I—” You wanted to thank him again for everything he was doing for you. For welcoming you into his life without a second thought and introducing you to these other people who were already starting to feel more like family than your own flesh-in-blood. But, more than that, you wanted to thank him for the way he always made you feel as if he was actually excited you were there—that you were wanted. But just as you were trying to find the words to express those feelings, you remembered the rest of the team could hear you and you quickly cleared your throat. “Um, just be safe up there. You can’t show me anything tomorrow if you do something stupid today.”

“You heard the lady, Boone. Guess we’re taking it easy today.” You heard Boone muttering his objection and you could almost see his pout through the radio. “Cell should be coming up on our left. Y’all enjoy the show.”

The radio clicked off, but you continued staring at the receiver, cupping it close to your chest as you thought about all the things you wished you had been able to say to him.

Glancing back at you, Dani and Dexter exchanged a look before chuckling to themselves. Looking up, you asked, “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Dani said, examining her nails. “Just seems that someone’s already fallen under the spell of the ol’ Owens charm.”

You raised an eyebrow. “‘The ol’ Owens charm’?”

“You know exactly what I mean. Believe it or not, he doesn’t do it on purpose, it’s just who he is and he can’t turn it off if he tried—not that he even realizes he’s doing it. He’s just naturally one smooth SOB that anyone could find hard to resist.”

A vice suddenly tightened around your heart making it hard to breathe. Was…was that all this was? Did Tyler treat everyone he met with the same kind of attention and kindness? Were you reading into his actions more than you should? 

Trying to maintain a blank expression, you shook your head. “Well, it’s not like that. He’s just letting me hang out with you guys to piss off my brother.”

“That’s what he said…but I’ve seen that look before,” Dani said smugly. 

“Dani…” Dexter muttered, giving her a pointed glance.

“What look?” you asked.

“The one you had when Tyler was talking to you. Like you were soaring on cloud nine and he was the only other person up there with you. Happens all the time.”

“Dani,” Dexter said a little louder.

But she either didn’t hear him or ignored him as she continued, “It doesn’t help that he’s so damn noble on top of everything. You should see the things he does when we stop by a town that has just been hit. He’s almost been crushed in more destroyed houses than I can count trying to go back for a kid’s teddy bear or a family’s photo album. The guy just can’t say no to someone in need.”

“Dani!”

“What?” She glanced at her friend then back to you and her smile faded. She must have noticed the way you had folded in on yourself, your arms wrapped tightly around your middle as you tried to process everything she had said. 

Stuttering slightly, Dani tried to backtrack. “Hey, listen, I didn’t mean…” She sighed and ran her hand through her dark hair. “I might be wrong. Tyler’s never invited someone to join the team outta nowhere like this. And he’s seemed different since he came back from your date yesterday.”

“It wasn’t a dat—” you mumbled, but she cut you off.

“Whatever it was. He’s had even more swagger in his step than usual and, this morning, he checked his watch like a million times to make sure he wasn’t late meeting you at your room. And Tyler never gets wound up like that for anyone. Right, Dexter?” The man nodded, and Dani smiled as if to say “see? I told you”. But then her smile dimmed slightly. “Just…just be careful. You seem like a really nice girl and none of us want to see you get hurt. So maybe know where you stand with him before you let yourself fall too hard.”

“Thanks,” you said, letting your arms unfold slightly. You were still questioning every interaction you had had with Tyler, but knowing you might have had some effect on him did make you feel a little better.

“Plus, you’ve been a lot of fun to have around and I’d hate for you to leave because Tyler can’t see what a catch he has in front of him.” Dani winked at you, and you gave her a small smile. 

You lean forward and hand her the radio. In an attempt to break some of the tension that has now filled the camper van, you asked Dexter to resume what he was saying when Tyler called. But as he happily returns to explaining the radar monitor, the excitement you had previously had listening to his lessons had evaporated. Instead, all you could think about was Tyler.

You thought about the way he held you close to his chest last night, his arms wrapped around you as you cried. You thought about the way he defended you to Scott, how he said you had found someone willing to give you their “attention and love”. You thought about that spark of electricity flowing between you as he pressed his lips to the back of your hand, and how that same spark seemed to gleam in his eyes before he left. You thought about this morning as you had leaned in to kiss Tyler, and how for just a brief moment before Scott’s slamming truck door ruined the moment, you swore you saw Tyler begin to lean in too.

Were you just seeing what your smitten heart wanted to see? 

The more you thought about it, the more you realized Dani was right. You needed to know for sure how Tyler felt before your feelings for him grew any stronger. If he was just being nice and that was all, that was fine. You were supposed to be here to get revenge on Scott, not to fall in love. So if that was the case, you would stuff down these developing feelings and try your best to forget them. But if Tyler really did feel this same magnetic pull that you did, well…that would be great to know too.

Part 5 coming 9/9!

[elegantlyeva]

Hey! I loved the story! Thank you so much! I hope it isn’t too soon to request again and if it is please ignore! I was wondering what those days in the hospital was like with Scott? How did he get hurt? Did he not like (actually loved it) having her fuss over him? Don’t worry about not getting to it right away. I truly just appreciate you even giving it a thought! Thank you!

A while 

a/n: Thank for the request bb <3 This is like weeks overdue, but I’m finally done with midterms so to the others who requested I'm getting through everything right now!

Word Count: 1.1K

The hospital smell flooded your senses as you walked through the doors. 

The call you got from Kate, of all people, was not something you expected. You liked the girl, sure. She was nice and had separated you and your boyfriend. It was weird having her call your phone, though. You hadn’t even been sure she had your number.

She barely got five words out before you hung up and started to drive.

Apparently, Javi and Scott had gotten into a little mishap after underestimating how close the tornado was going to get.

You packed Scott a bag, knowing he was a bit germ-crazy, adding some clothes, his toothbrush, and some other night things, assuming he’d have to stay the night.

Maybe it was a little premature. You knew he had been taken in the ambulance—Kate had said he was conscious but also looking concussed. Still, even if he wasn’t staying the night, he’d probably want to change.

Walking through the hospital hallway after lying to the secretary about being Scott’s wife—since only family was allowed—you popped your head into Javi’s room next door. Tyler and Kate were sitting in the visiting chairs.

Tyler smiled, waving you over, but you shook your head. “Sorry. I’ll come back. I’m going to check on Scott. Just wanted to make sure Javi was fine.”

Javi laughed, knowing damn well you weren’t coming back after seeing Scott.

His door was closed, so you knocked softly, but there was no answer. Assuming he was asleep, you opened the door anyway and headed in.

The sound of voices filled the room, and you mentally face-palmed when you heard Scott arguing.

“I’m fine. Get this shit off me.” Heading fully inside, you saw that the "thing" he wanted off was an arm cast. No one had seen you yet.

“Sir, we’re trying to set your arm back in place. If you don’t have the cast, you’ll move it too much. The bones will heal on their own, but they need support, and if you’re moving it and banging it into things, it’s never going to heal.” You could hear the doctor’s exasperated voice, so you cleared your throat and made your way over.

The frustrated expression on Scott’s face softened when he saw you but didn’t disappear. He let the corners of his mouth tip up and moved out his good arm to beckon you over. With no objections, you quickly made it to his side, hugging him awkwardly so as not to hurt his bad arm. 

“What took you so long?” There was a bit of a whine in his voice, not that he’d ever admit it.

“What do you mean, what took me so long? Kate was the one who called me!” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“My phone got crushed. And I would’ve called you myself from Javi’s phone, but these doctors are insistent on me not using my arms,” he said, narrowing his eyes at the poor nurse.

“Arm, sir. One. The other is alright. I mean, you should take it easy. You still have a couple of bruises, but you’re fine overall.” Scott scowled, letting his head fall on your abdomen while the nurse left with a sigh.

You smiled softly as he moved over so you could sit on the bed next to him. “I told the secretary we were married,” you said, assuming it would get a smile out of him.

And it did. “Yeah? Where’s the ring?” he asked, picking up your hand.

“I should be asking you that,” you said, and he rolled his eyes, putting an arm around your shoulder to bring your head to rest on his chest. “Give me a few months.”

You had only been teasing anyway. “So, why are you giving these poor nurses trouble for doing their jobs?”

“I need both my arms. Both. How am I supposed to get anything done with only one? I’ll be half as fast and more of a liability than anything, and—” You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, and he sighed softly.

When you pulled away, you looked at his food tray before actually speaking up. “You okay? It’s not the best news to get when you’re driving home from work, hearing your boyfriend is being taken to the hospital.”

Scott groaned, letting his head fall back onto the bed. “I’m fine, really. Don’t sweat it. It was a stupid miscalculation. All of this could’ve easily been avoidable if we hadn’t been moving so slow. Javi said we had more time. I thought we had more time.”

You didn’t say anything right away, knowing he needed to take a few breaths when he got like this. “I’m fine, though. Sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you. I swear I would’ve called, but my phone got crushed with the back of the truck.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry. I was only messing around earlier. I’m glad you’re okay.”

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, and shook his head. “A sweatshirt would be great. S’fucking cold in here,” he mumbled, and your ears perked up.

“I brought you a bag. That’s what took me so long,” you said excitedly, happy you could give him that. He squeezed your waist with his good hand.

“This is why I love you,” he mumbled into your hair. You side-eyed him a bit.

“That’s it?” you asked, and he rolled his eyes, holding out his hand for the sweatshirt and toothbrush. You snorted, handing him both, and after a struggle to get the sweatshirt over his head and helping him to the bathroom despite his dizziness, he settled himself against the hospital bed.

“I took off from work,” you mumbled, letting your hand brush through his dark hair. He glared at your words.

“Why would you do that? I’m fine,” he grumbled, attempting to roll his eyes, but it worsened the pounding in his head. You laughed, mumbling something about karma, and he pinched your side.

“We can just stay home for a couple days. I don’t trust you to actually stay home without anyone watching you.” He went to protest but was cut off when you gave him a disapproving look.

“Fine,” he said, looking like he was going to say more but glaring at something behind you. “What do you want, Owens?” You turned around to find Tyler leaning on the doorway.

“Relax. I’m not here for you. Your girlfriend said she’d come back to hang out with us in Javi’s room once she was done checking on you,” he said, smirking at Scott’s scowl.

“She will not be hanging out anywhere near you. She’ll get a worse headache than mine if she’s around your obnoxious ass.”

You rolled your eyes. This would go on for a while.

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 4.7k

Part 7/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

"My bones are smoldering And my knuckles are bloody. Forgive me. Forgive me." - Aloud (20/365)

Masterlist

Every piece, every atom of your soul was ripped apart, shredded like fine vellum beneath the Hexcore’s unnatural power. The runes on your skin burned as they changed in rapid succession, pain lancing across your skull like it would crack in two from the pressure. Your limbs stretched and ached as your magic wrapped around your wrists, your ankles, anchoring you against the power of the Hexcore swirling in a vortex of blue and violet, electric charges spreading and crackling. 

Where was Viktor? He’d disappeared when your magic had consumed and drained those men. Had it taken him too? 

A metal hand, charged with blue light, broke through the vortex, straining against the force of the wind. Terror and relief struck you all at once. He was alive, and yet, would he remain so? 

His hand pushed farther, his arm, and his shoulder following, metal sparking with magic, zapped by the electricity in your current. 

“He will die trying to save you,” the Hexcore gloated. “His death will be on your hands.”

Horror seized you, your breathing rapid, your lungs burning with the charged, thick air that slid down your throat like hot coals. He hadn’t let you heal him in days, he’d weakened, and yet he pushed on anyway. 

Viktor's head bursts through the vortex, his eyes wild with determination, gritting his teeth against the pull of magic. You gasped, relief and terror warring within you as he struggled to push the rest of his body through. With a final push, he tumbled, landing hard on his knees beside you, crutch falling to his side - having used it to leverage himself through.

You whimpered as his chest heaved, each breath a ragged gasp that sent a fear tingling through your limbs and up your neck.

"I'm here," he croaked, pushing himself up to stand, crutch held tight to his side. "I will not let it take you."

The Hexcore's laughter echoed around you, setting your teeth on edge. "Oh, how delicious," it purred. "Your panic is exquisite. Can you feel your control slipping away?"

You could. Your magic was unravelling, tendrils of power escaping your grasp like water through a sieve. The runes on your skin flared and sputtered, their patterns shifting faster than you could track. You tried to focus, to reign it in, but Viktor's haggard breathing and the Hexcore's taunting laughter shattered your semblance of control.

Your mind felt like it was cracking, like a stone that had been smashed with a hammer one too many times. People flashed before you - those you cared for, Viktor, Sky, Jayce - and they screamed and they burned as your magic shredded them apart. 

You just wanted them to leave you alone, let you burn in peace. Save themselves and let you go. 

Distracted as you were, Viktor had managed to get close enough to grab one of your outstretched wrists, tugging himself closer until he stood directly in front of you.

His flesh and blood hand cupped your scarred cheek. Would this be the last time you felt it? The soft feel of his skin and the roughness of his calluses. You could see the pain etched in the lines of his face, the trembling of his limbs as he fought to stay upright. But there was something else there too - a determination that burned brighter than the Hexcore's violent light.

"Listen to me," he said, his voice gruff but steady. "You are stronger than this. Your magic is not meant for destruction. It's a force of good, of love - a reflection of you. Do you remember the first time you eased my pain? I’d never felt anything so sweet before. That came from you, Milá."

You choked on a sob, how badly you wished that to be true.

“I-I can’t, Viktor, I can’t do it!” The magic was too strong, like a tornado of will and might and an avalanche of anger and grief, it pulled you down, tore at your skin, pulled you apart piece by piece. “You need to go!”

“And abandon you?” His voice, lilting and soft - too soft for the gripping terror that squeezed your throat. “Never.”

You whimpered, low, like a wounded animal caught in a trap of its own making. “The Hexcore, it won’t stop, I can’t get it to stop.”

A laugh echoed in your ears, taunting, teasing you with its vindication. 

“I have never seen you allow anyone else tell you what to do.” His smile, so kind, so patient, always for you. You didn’t deserve it, yet he gave it freely. “Why start now?”

A dark red stain beneath his nose caught your gaze, your heart freezing in your chest, the roar of your magic fading beneath the rush of white noise in your ears. Even as he smiled, blood trickled at the corners of his mouth, crimson tears falling from his doleful eyes. You were killing him, and yet he made no move to flee. He simply stood with you, cupping your cheek, hand around your waist. His crutch, wedged under his arm, seemed to be the only thing supporting him as he stood there, waiting for you despite knowing that you were the one causing him harm.

“Please, Viktor. Please, go, I’m begging you!” you cried, eyes and throat burning, a stinging wetness on your cheeks.

“And I am begging you to fight this. I have faith in your abilities, miláčku.” Viktor leaned his forehead against yours, the heat from his skin seeping into your icy flesh. “The Hexcore does not get to decide who you are and it does not get to take you from me.” 

You gritted your teeth, Viktor's words igniting a spark of defiance within you. All you had wanted was for him to stay with you; how could you not do the same?

With every ounce of strength in your body, you willed your hands towards your chest, battling against the binds of magic that held you in place. Every muscle in your body screamed with effort, tendons straining as you pushed through the pain and forced your limbs to obey.

The Hexcore's laughter faltered, its confidence wavering as you struggled against its hold. The magic around your wrists started to give, like elastic bands stretched to their limit. Inch by agonizing inch, your hands moved closer to your sternum.

Viktor's grip on you tightened, lending you his strength. "That's it," he said, his voice strained but encouraging. "You can do this.”

With a last, valiant push, you held your hands to your chest. The magical restraints snapped with an audible crack, sending shockwaves through the vortex surrounding you. The sudden release nearly sent you stumbling, but Viktor's steadying hold kept you upright.

Panting, you pressed your palms flat against your breastbone. You could feel the Hexcore's energy pulsing beneath your skin, a writhing mass of corrupted power. Clenching your jaw, you began to pull, imagining your hands sinking into flesh, grasping the foreign entity, and dragging it out.

At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly, you felt something give, like pulling a thread from a tightly woven tapestry. One strand came loose, then another, and another. The Hexcore's hold started to weaken, its tendrils retracting from your limbs, your organs, your cells.

Hope surged within you. It was working! You redoubled your efforts, pulling harder, feeling the Hexcore's essence start to pool beneath your palms. The vortex around you flickered and wavered, its roar diminishing to a dull whisper.

But as you continued to extract the Hexcore, a creeping sense of dread overtook you. Something wasn’t right. The energy you were pulling out felt wrong, incomplete. It writhed and squirmed in your grasp, desperately seeking what it was missing.

With a sickening realization, you understood the truth. The Hexcore had become too entwined with your life force. It could not exist independently anymore. It needs a living vessel. You couldn’t destroy it without destroying its host in the process.

Your hands faltered, and the extracted energy snapped back into your body like a rubber band. The vortex surged anew, and the Hexcore's laughter returned, triumphant and mocking.

"Did you really think it would be that easy?" it taunted. "I am a part of you now. You cannot simply cast me aside."

You slumped in Viktor's arms, despair threatening to overtake you. It would never work. The Hexcore was tied to life itself - your life.

Part of what made him such a great inventor was Viktor’s innate ability to understand the subtlest of details with only a single glance. He had a remarkable knack for uncovering the hidden potential, the true meaning, of anything he encountered. He’d always been able to read you, as if he could hear your thoughts, and when you gazed up at him with a fresh wave of tears brimming in your eyes, he gave you a sad smile. 

“I feared that would be the case,” he said, his thumb tracing soothing lines over your cheekbone. “It wanted you for your magic, and now that it has had a taste of life, it will not be parted from it. But if it was within a body that did not have access to the arcane, I believe it could be…malleable.” 

“No,” you spat, pulling your face out of his grasp, swallowing back the surge of energy that flayed your spine. He didn’t need to say it for you to understand his meaning. “I am not subjecting you to the Hexcore. I would rather die.” 

And though death scared you, his death frightened you more than anything that could ever and would ever exist in any universe. 

“And I will not leave you.” He countered, wiping the back of his hand across the blood that ran in rivulets over his lips, down his chin, falling in droplets to the floor. “It would seem we are at an impasse.”

Salt, wet and hot hit your tongue as tears streamed down your cheeks. Hiccups disrupted your already scattered breathing. “But—“ a hiccup, your chin trembling, “but you’ll die.” 

“We both know I was dying already, I have been for some time.” He was right, of course, you’d felt his life force slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. No matter how hard you tried to pick up those minuscule pieces and put them back, you always missed some - more and more every day. Your power alone couldn’t save him, even with the fraction of the Hexcore you’d used. “But we do not know for certain that the Hexcore will kill me, as it will surely do to you.”

You couldn’t go on like this, and neither could he. 

“I love you.” Your voice caught in a sob around his name, your muscles tensed as you held yourself back from falling apart. How could you do this, how were you supposed to throw this…horrible, violent being into the man you loved? But you also couldn’t stand by and let him die.

“From the moment we met, there has not been a second that I was not yours.” A bittersweet smile curved along his bloodstained lips. You wanted to scream, to beg someone, anyone, to help, to avoid this fate. But there was no one except the two of you, no help to be had. With trembling hands, you placed your palms against your chest once more.

"I’m so sorry, Viktor. I’m so, so sorry,” you choked out, teeth barred.

"Don't be, Miláček,” he said, thumb painting smooth lines over your cheekbone, wiping at your tears. “This is my choice."

With a tortured, gut-wrenching howl that tore from the depths of your soul, you plunged your hands into your own chest. Searing, all-consuming agony shredded through every nerve as you grasped the writhing essence of the Hexcore. It writhed and fought, its sharp edges scraping against your bones, hooking into your organs, desperate to maintain its hold. But your love for Viktor, your need to keep him alive, burned brighter than any of it, giving you strength you didn't know you possessed.

You ripped the Hexcore from your body, a pulsing mass of energy crackling between your hands. With no room for hesitation, you shoved it into Viktor's chest, sinking into his metal flesh as if it were clay beneath your fingers.

For a moment, time stood still. You saw the shock in Viktor's eyes, the pain, the love. Then, everything erupted in a blinding flash of purple light.

The force of the explosion threw you backward, your body slamming against an unseen barrier. The air was ripped from your lungs as waves of energy pulsed outward, shattering windows and bouncing off the walls. The very foundations of the building seemed to groan under the strain.

Through the confusion, you caught glimpses of Viktor; his body suspended in mid-air, arcs of violet electricity dancing across his skin both natural and enhanced. His back arched in agony, mouth open in a soundless scream as the Hexcore's power surged through him.

The light grew more intense, forcing you to shield your eyes. The air crackled with raw energy, making your hair stand on end. You could feel the Hexcore's influence diminishing within you, but at what cost?

As quickly as it began, the light imploded, collapsing in on itself with a thunderous crash.

Blinking rapidly to clear the white spots from your vision, you scanned your surroundings. The house was in ruins, debris scattered everywhere, walls caved in. Your heart pounded in your throat as you searched frantically for Viktor. 

There - a glint of metal caught your eye.

You scrambled to Viktor's side, throwing debris out of your way like it weighed nothing, your heart pounding so hard you feared it might burst through your ribcage. He lay motionless on the floor, his body now a gleaming expanse of gold and dark grey metal. Gone were his worn clothes, replaced by a glinting and grooved metallic frame that seemed to have fused over his remaining flesh. Only his face remained human, though even that had changed - tendrils of metal crept up his cheeks like silvery vines. The violet magic of the Hexcore leapt across his body, hissing, but unable to do any harm.

"Viktor?" you whispered, your voice cracking and hoarse. You reached out with unsteady hands, afraid to touch him, afraid of what you might not feel. But as your fingers brush his chest, you detect the faintest rise and fall. He was breathing. He was alive.

A cry of relief, quickly followed by another, and another, until you were weeping uncontrollably over his limp form. You gathered him into your arms, cradling his head against your chest, uncaring of the cold metal pressed against your skin. His breath puffed against your collarbone, each tiny exhale a miracle. The sparks, ever-present, danced around you both, their light pulsing in time with your broken bawling.

Time lost all meaning as you sat there, holding Viktor, watching for any sign of consciousness. Minutes blended into hours, and hours into days. You drifted in and out of awareness, your exhausted mind unable to fully process the magnitude of what had happened, caught in a haze of disbelief and grief.

Would he ever wake up? Or had you sent him into an endless slumber?

To make it all worse, Viktor was not the only one affected by the transfer of power. Where the Hexcore had once been, Shimmer took its place. It had lain dormant, fuelling the Hexcore so that it did not bother you, but without an outlet, it sought another avenue to consume. 

You. 

Try as you might to hold onto the last vestiges of your sanity, without anything but Viktor’s quietly humming body to anchor you, you began to drift away. 

You did not eat, you barely drank. Your body was stiff and cramped from sitting in the same position for so long, but you refused to leave his side, despite the sparks pulling at the hem of your cloak. The world outside that room ceased to exist. There was only you, Viktor, the sparks, and the agonizing wait for him to open his eyes. At some point, you’d wrapped him up in the blankets, though you couldn’t remember when, and laid his now twisted and warped crutch at his side in case he needed it.

Yet even then, your mind refused to allow you peace. Going through the same motions over and over again, with a relentlessness that seemed never-ending.

You blinked, and the room was filled with shimmering butterflies. Their iridescent wings caught the light, casting rainbows across Viktor's body. You reached out, mesmerized, only for them to dissolve into mist at your touch. A sharp crack echoed behind you and you whirled around, heart racing, magic crackling at your fingertips. But there was nothing there - just shadows dancing on the wall.

Sky's laughter rang out, clear as a bell. "Over here!" she called. You scrambled to your feet, nearly tripping over Viktor in your haste. She was right there, by the door, waving and smiling just as she had when she’d lived. She’d died, hadn’t she? The fog in your mind wouldn’t part, and you didn’t care. She was your friend, and you needed her now more than ever. You ran towards her, arms outstretched, but just as you reached her, she faded away like smoke. Your hands grasping at empty air and you choked back a cry.

A hand landed on your shoulder and you lashed out, a bolt of wild magic flying from your palm. It sizzled past Jayce's ear, singeing his hair. He looked at you with furrowed brows, mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear his words. You blinked, and he was gone too, leaving you alone again.

You stumbled back to Viktor, collapsing beside him. His face was peaceful, human, the face you fell in love with. But as you watched, it shifted. Metal crept across his skin, covering his features until all that was left was a cold, expressionless mask, no flesh left, unblinking golden eyes. You screamed, scrambling backward, your nails scraping against the floor. You blinked rapidly, and his face was human again, then metal, then human. Like you were spinning around and around in circles, nausea churned in your stomach, bile writhing up your throat.

A shadow flitted across your vision and you jumped, whirling to face this new threat. Your magic surged, ready to defend, but it was just a piece of paper caught in a draft. You laughed, the sound high and hysterical, bordering on a sob.

The remaining walls seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting like lungs. You pressed your hands against your eyes, trying to block out the impossible sights. When you looked again, everything was normal. But for how long it would remain so, you did not know.

How many times had you gone through those hallucinations? Were they even hallucinations, or rather visions? You couldn’t tell them apart.

You curled up next to Viktor, clinging to him like he was a buoy and you were adrift at sea. His steady breathing was the only constant in your fracturing world. You closed your eyes, praying for sleep, for sanity, for anything to make the hallucinations stop. But even in darkness, the visions came, unrelenting and terrifying.

Sometimes, in rare periods of lucidity, you found yourself talking to him, your voice raspy and barely audible. You told him about the sunlight filtering through the broken windows, painting patterns on the floor. You described the way the dust specks danced in the air, stirred by your breath and his. You confessed your fears, your hopes, your unwavering love.

Other times, you simply sat in silence, your fingers tracing the new contours of his face. You memorized every detail - the way the metal seamlessly melded with his skin, the soft whir of unseen mechanisms keeping him alive. His eyelids fluttered occasionally, rapid movements beneath delicate skin that gave you hope he was dreaming, that somewhere in there, he was still Viktor.

But the hallucinations always had a way of worming themselves back in, of striking fear into your heart. Of making you feel horribly, and completely alone.

Curling in on yourself, your head tucked between your knees, you rocked, back and forth, back and forth. It’s not real, you told yourself. But it felt so real, tangible in a way that nothing else had ever been. Your friends, Viktor, they were all a part of you, and seeing them as they were before everything changed, even fleetingly, made the chasm of your grief open wider. You’d only just managed to help Viktor survive, and then he’d been taken so cruelly from you, and by your own hand. 

No, he was alive, he was breathing beside you, wasn’t he? You couldn’t look, couldn’t bring yourself to check. For if he wasn’t, if he truly had ceased to breathe, you were not sure you’d be able to stop yourself from taking the whole of Runeterra down in your anguish. 

“Milá.” Though hoarse and metallic in quality, you would recognize his voice anywhere. But your mind had been playing so many tricks on you as of late, to allow yourself to believe only for it to be torn away when you looked up to find him unmoving…

“Milá,” he said again, this time with more force. You clutched at the sides of your head, pulling on your hair, pinpricks of pain shooting across your scalp. 

Go away, go away, go—

The floor creaked, the shifting of metal on wood. “So soon? I would have thought you’d be slightly more excited to see me awake.”

One moment you were curled in on yourself, tearing at your hair like you could pull the distressing thoughts from your skull, and the next, you were launching yourself toward Viktor, who had just propped himself up into a sitting position. You flung your arms around his neck, taking in deep gasps of air as your hands gripped onto his head, his back, his hair - anything to feel that this was real.

“Is it really you?” Even to your ears, your voice sounded pitiful, hoarse like you’d been screaming for hours - had you? You couldn’t recall. 

Viktor chuckled, that sweet, beautiful sound that always set your heart to singing. “Who else would I be?” 

Pulling back, you held his face in your hands, Shimmer, pink and vibrant coursing through the veins in your arms. The sparks darted down your shoulders, bouncing over each other until they reached Viktor. They trailed across his cheeks, leaving a warm, glowing trail, before coming to rest against his neck like tiny fireflies snuggling against him.

He had changed, yes, but he was still Viktor. 

“I was so afraid that you’d…” You swallowed thickly, death sitting heavily on your tongue. 

His hands settled themselves on your hips, pulling you towards him. “I was fairly certain I would survive, but I am sorry to have worried you. If we had been given more time, perhaps we could have figured out a, ah, safer way.” 

You laughed, too shrill to be anything but hysterical. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

You crashed your lips against his, tears streaming down your face as you poured every ounce of fear, relief, and love into the kiss. His lips were warm and soft, the taste of salt tears mingling with the familiar sweetness of Viktor, and you drank it in greedily, desperate to convince yourself that this was true.

Your hands roamed over his face, tracing the delicate patterns of silver and gold that adorned his cheeks. They were smooth beneath your fingertips, almost silky, and you marvelled at how seamlessly they blended with his skin. Viktor's hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap. The sparks danced around you both, creating a shimmering cocoon of blue light.

As you broke apart for air, a sob pushed past your teeth. You rested your forehead against his, your noses brushing. His breath fanned across your face, warm and alive, and you closed your eyes, savouring the feeling. Your tears fell freely, landing on his cheeks and sliding down the metallic edges.

“How do you feel?” you asked, breathless, but needing to know. 

Viktor's eyes met yours, and you were struck by the suddenness of seeing their iridescent colouring, shifting and swirling like a muted rainbow. "I feel…alive," he said, his voice filled with both wonder and uncertainty. "It's as if every nerve ending is singing, every cell vibrating with energy. The Hexcore, it's not just a part of me now - it's become me."

You watched, transfixed, as he flexed his fingers, tiny jolts of magic dancing between the joints - no longer blue from your magic, but a vibrant shade of violet from the Hexcore.

"I can sense everything," he continued, his forehead creasing in concentration. "The air currents in the room, the minute vibrations in the floor, even the electrical impulses in your body. It's overwhelming, but also exhilarating."

"The pain is gone," he said, a note of disbelief in his voice. "For the first time in years, I feel no pain. But more than that, I feel…whole. Complete. As if this is what I was always meant to become. A final evolution, if you would.”

Your heart swelled with relief at Viktor's words, but a nagging worry still gnawed at the edges of your mind - something wasn’t right, but you couldn’t figure out what exactly. The Shimmer coursing through your veins pulsed erratically, sending sparks skittering across your skin.

His gaze returned to you, filled with worry that you could see like waves lapping at the shores of his thoughts. "And you, miláčku, something is different about you.”

"I'm…I'm not sure what’s happening," you admitted, your voice shaky, afraid to admit your fears. "Everything feels so strange. Like I'm both here and not here at the same time." You gestured vaguely at the room around you. "I keep seeing things that aren't real. Or maybe they are? I can't tell anymore."

Viktor frowned, his new iridescent eyes scanning your face intently. "What do you see?"

You laughed, a brittle sound that bordered on panic. "Oh, you know, the usual. Butterflies made of light. Sky calling for me. Jayce trying to talk to me. The walls breathing." You paused, swallowing hard. "Your face turning into a metal mask.”

His eyes softened around the corners. "Ah, I see. The Shimmer is affecting you more strongly now that the Hexcore is gone, correct?"

You nodded, grateful he understood without you having to explain further. "I don't know what's real anymore, Viktor. I'm…scared."

Viktor's arms encircled you, pulling you to rest against his chest. The cool metal was so different from his warm face pressed against your hair. "I'm real," he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble. "This, us, right here - it's real."

You clung to him, trembling. The Shimmer in your veins pulsed again, sending a surge of disorientation through you. But Viktor's steady heartbeat anchored you, a rhythm to focus on, to distract you from yourself.

"I will try to help," Viktor said softly. He glanced around at the ruined walls, the floorboards stained with traces of your magic, of the Hexcore, his own blood. It was a miracle it was still standing, and you were sure you would have been attacked had it not been for the wards you’d put up. 

You sucked your lips between your teeth, staring at the electric blue wall surrounding the house. When had you done that? 

“But not here. We should go. It is no longer safe for us.” He looked towards the wall that you’d thrown the attackers against. “If it ever was.” 

“I’m sorry, Viktor,” you tucked your chin to your chest, “this was your childhood home and I…” Ruined it like everything else you touched. 

Hooking his index finger below your chin, he angled your face up towards his. “It is just a place. My home is with you.” 

Such a sweet, simple statement made your teeth ache. The sparks that had nestled into his chest glowed their approval, emitting light humming noises, creating a high-pitched harmony. 

You placed a kiss against his palm, the cool metal greeting your lips with a spark that made them tingle. “Then we go together.” 

He smiled, soft and crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Always.”

When you left that house behind, your hand tucked tightly into Viktor’s, you prayed to whatever gods were listening that you hadn’t made the wrong choice, that giving the Hexcore to Viktor had been the correct option. 

But if it was right, why did you feel a deep sense of dread clinging to your heart like a thick layer of frost? 

Next Chapter

A/N: And you're on to a new destination!! Is everyone ready for Jesus Viktor?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Treat You 3

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, violence, abuse, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Tall!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

"You're useless!" Your dad slather's spit on your face as he holds himself over you, penning you in on your bed, "fucking idiot!"

You whimper as he growls and huffs his tobacco-tinged breath in your face. You wrinkle your nose and bat your lashes as tears prickle along the brims of your eyes. You shudder as he shoves himself off of you, snarling as he heaves his weight off the mattress. Another rude awakening, though for what you don't know.

"I'm sorry, da-" You begin as you sit up, only to have him spin and crack his knuckles across your cheek. You fall back and cradles your skull as it vibrates. "Ow, dad, what did I do?"

"Where the fuck are my smokes?!" He hisses.

"I dunno, I dunno," you sit up, holding out an arm to shield yourself, "you know I wouldn't touch them."

"I know you're a sneaky fucking bitch," he barks and goes to your dress, shaking it as he tears open the drawer. He scoops out the contents and throws them so the fabric scatters over the floor.

"I didn't touch them," you sniffle.

"Stop fucking lying!" He blusters as he stomps over to you, grabbing you by the front of your tee shirt, "look at you, lazy piece of shit, hiding in your room all day, doing what?!"

"Dad," you murmur.

"Bitch!" He shoves you back and you once more fall flat, biting your own tongue.

He surges around the room and there's a thunderous crash as he swipes your desk clear of its contents. You sit up and watch, helpless as he rips like a tornado through the space. He hollers and hurls until he's out of breath. He leaves you with a slam of the door. A promise in the shake of the frame. If he sees you again, it will only get worse.

You get up and switch your pajama bottoms for jeans. You retrieve the clunky laptop from the floor and tuck it into your bag. It's the only thing of value you have. It's how you make your living, typing away captions and sending the words in for pennies. You swipe up your book and the small change purse with not much in it.

You listen before you emerge from your room. You creep down and take your denim jacket and sneakers from the entryway, tiptoeing out and putting them on in the hallway. You stand straight and touch your throbbing cheek. You must look a mess. It doesn't matter, you just need to get out of there.

You get out to the street and find a bench just around the corner, sitting to think of where to go. You need to get the next project done. Tonight's the deadline to get a few extra dollars on the next deposit. You need wifi. Usually you can leech off the neighbours' but there's no way you're staying in the apartment with your father like that.

The library isn't an option. You can't even access the wifi without an account and you have fines since your father destroyed several borrowed books last month. Besides, it's too far out of the way and you have no bus fare. Maybe...

Is it worth it? You don't know if you have any change. You sift through your bag and open your change purse. A couple of quarters; seventy-five cents. Hmm, how much is a cookie? Just one of the small ones?

All you know is the cafe has wifi. You'll test your luck and see how long they put up with you. You head off, disappearing into the urban ebb and flow, happy to drown in it and forget the morning.

🍵

The cafe is busy enough for you to sneak in with the rush. You find a seat in the corner and set up there, hoping you can fade into the background as usual. You glance over at the menu, there's nothing you can afford there. You sigh as you slip the heavy laptop out of your crochet bag.

You open it and hit the power button. Nothing happens. You lean in and try again. You notice how the frame of the screen is split at the seam. Oh no. The thing's taken a beating over the years but it's usually fine. He's done it now. It's broken.

That's it. That's the only thing you got and it's just as garbage as everything else in your life. You hang your head, holding it in your hands as you stare at the table. You're numb, to hollow to feel anything. You should cry but you can't.

Your vision blurs as you sit there, frozen. What do you do? What can you do? You are totally screwed.

You don't know how long you stay like that. The world skews around you until suddenly it centers on a gentle tap on your shoulder. You pop your head up, nearly tipping the chair as you look up at the barista. It's the same one as last time. Peter, you think he said.

"Excuse me--" He begins but he gapes and stares at you.

"I'm sorry, I... I'll go," you gulp and shake your head, "I don't have money for a coffee."

You stand but he doesn't move. He's close as you reach for your laptop and he reaches to stop you from closing it.

"What happened?" He asks.

"Nothing," you lie.

"Something must've happened--"

"I must've hit it on the door when I came in," you mutter pushing until he moves his hand, snapping shut the broken screen.

"Not the computer," he says, "you?"

"What?" You frown and wince as the bruise twinges and you notice how you can see your cheek swelling from your left eye.

"Did someone hurt you?" He asks.

"Please, it doesn't matter," you turn to unhook your bag from the chair, "I'm just going to leave. I told you, I don't have any money--"

"Coffee's on the house. Or tea," he insists, "please, sit down."

"I can't."

"Why not?" He asks.

You cringe and stop. You turn to face him, looking down at his warm brown eyes, "why are you bugging me?"

"Am I?" His forehead ripples, "I wasn't meaning to."

You squeeze your lips together and a pang of guilt tweaks in your chest. You hang your head, "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to talk back."

"Look, seems like you've had a rough morning. If you stay, I promise I won't bug you. I'll just bring you some tea and let you be."

You look away as your nose flares, tingling dangerously, "why would you do that?"

"Nice things always come around," he shrugs, "and they don't cost anything."

You nod and hide your face, "thanks."

"No problem, oh uh, one thing," he turns a palm out, "I didn't get your name."

You put your bag on the table as you touch the back of the chair. You eke out your name before you sit. He repeats it brightly, "alright, I'll be right back."

You stare out the window, refusing to look anywhere else. You're too embarrassed to let him see the tears in your eyes.

[boldlyvoid]

Yours, mine & ours | Part 1: meeting matthew

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington | Single Dads fic

Summary: Eddie has a 6-year-old brother in need of a new legal guardian

Warnings: set in 1993, Eddie was never a part of the upside-down shenanigans, foster care, child neglect, death of a parent, Al Munson is a monster, Wayne Munson is the loveliest man on earth

Word count: 4.7k

Masterlist

When he got the call from Child Protective Services, his first thought was: “Do they have the right Eddie Munson?” His second thought was: “of course, my dad would have another one of his offspring taken away.” 

“So, will you take him? Or should we set him up with one of our emergency families until we can find a permanent foster placement for him?” The woman asked, as kindhearted as possible. 

“Uh… yeah? Do you have to like vet me or check out my place?” He asks, worried he won’t have enough time to make his trailer look presentable. He’s only had it a few months now, just a few spaces down from his uncle Wayne, but that didn’t stop the ‘Eddie tornado’ from wreaking havoc on the space in such a short time frame. 

“A small one. I’ll bring Matthew with his things and I’ll take a look around, make sure it’s up to code,” she explains. “I know you were also taken in by a family member when you were a kid, so I’m sure you know what it’s like. He’s had a very rough day and I would like to have him settled with someone he can trust tonight.” 

“Yeah, yeah I remember… How old is he?” He asks, unsure if she’s said it already or not. His mind was in a bit of a fog, this was all a little surreal. He was 27, how the heck did his dad have another kid? What did he get out of jail? What did he do this time? His mind is absolutely racing. 

“6,” she says and he can tell she’s frowning about it. “I don’t think he’s ever been to school…”

“I missed a lot when I was with Al, too,” he shares. “I’ll get him enrolled. 6 is what? Kindergarten?” 

“It is, he should be able to catch up quite easily, he’s a very sweet and quiet boy. I think he’ll greatly benefit from being around children his own age.” 

He knows that’s true. “Okay, well, I’ll clean up a bit and get things ready here… when are you bringing him?” 

“We’re just in Indianapolis, so I’ll be there in an hour-ish?” She says, more so asking if that works for him. 

“Sounds good.” 

“Thank you, Eddie.” 

“Anytime.” 

He hangs up the phone on the receiver and looks around the room. He’s fucked. There’s no way he can clean everything and make it look presentable in an hour. 

But he’s damn sure going to try. 

He throws all his clothes in the washing machine, he rushes through dishes, and he runs the recycling and a few garbage bags down to the trailer park's dumpster. He tidies his room, and sets up a few spare blankets on the couch so that the kid knows he has a spot to sleep tonight before they get him set up with more… and just as he’s changing his shirt to something less heavy metal, there’s a knock on his door. 

“Coming!!” He shouts as he slips into the shirt and makes his way down the hallway. He’s barely got his arms in the sleeves as he’s opening the door. 

He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but it’s still a shock to see a woman no older than himself holding a garbage bag in one hand and holding hands with a little boy in the other. She’s in a dress suit, hair all pulled back and a small smile on her face, “Eddie Munson?” 

“Hi,” he says, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He looks down at his brother then, “You must be Matthew?” 

He has the curliest hair, curlier than Eddie’s ever was at this age. He has chubby cheeks, big brown eyes and the longest lashes on earth that batt against those big cheeks each time he blinks. He’s adorable. How the hell could someone have a child so sweet and put them in this position? Was he this cute when he was little? Was this how Wayne felt when he was on his doorstep at 12? Or was he long past that cute phase and more into the annoying tween people felt bad for, stage? 

Matthew nods, reaching up to brush his curls out of his face, he looks so tired. His eyes are red, he doesn’t smile, he’s in tattered old running shoes and pants too short for his legs and a sweater Eddie’s seen before… that used to be his. He left it when he was gathering things to leave for Waynes. It was too small for him then, but now it’s a bit too big for Matthew. 

“Come in,” he steps aside and lets them in. “I uh, I cleaned as best as I could with short notice. I’ll do more tomorrow once I can borrow the vacuum from my uncle down the way, he’s at work right now. He works nights.” 

“That’s okay,” she smiles, letting Matthew in first.

He takes a look around, arms crossed to protect himself. He doesn’t make eye contact, he simply wanders over to the living room to take a look at the figurines Eddie has on the shelves. Wayne would call them toys, they could be if they weren’t so expensive, but with their price tag, they are made to stay in their little acrylic cases and sit on his shelves collecting dust till he has the time to clean again. 

“You like Star Wars?” He asks, trying to make conversation but Matthew just shrugs. “I’ll have to show you the movies sometime.” 

“Okay,” he says, quiet and meek. 

He doesn’t notice the social worker looking around. She opens the fridge, nods a bit and then closes it. She looks in the cupboards and drawers, and she notices that there are clothes in the washing machine tumbling around in soapy circles and she looks impressed. She keeps going down the hall, peaking in the bedroom, “Is it just you who lives here?” 

“Uh, yeah, I just got the trailer a couple months ago… I was renting downtown for a bit but then I got the opportunity to own this place,” he explains. “I’m thinking I’m going to get a pull-out couch for me and he’ll have the room. That’s what my uncle did for me.” 

“Sounds good,” she gives him a smile. “He seems like he’s good here.” She references over to Matthew who’s flipping through pages of a comic book, sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “Here,” she reaches into her pocket and hands Eddie a white envelope. 

“What is this?” 

“You’re not technically a foster parent, but because you’re under the poverty line and taking him in, I pulled some strings and you’ll be receiving a $500 allowance for him each month,” she explains. “It should help with groceries and clothes, and I can help you file for medical and dental benefits through some charities that focus on children going through tough situations.” 

“Damn, okay,” he’s so shocked. Where was all this when he was a kid? “Wow…” 

“And then in the bag, there is a manilla envelope with his birth certificate and other important documents. We couldn’t find any records of him getting his vaccines, so he should see a practitioner before going to school.” 

“Okay,” he nods along, feeling overwhelmed. “I uh, I don’t even have a doctor… does he need a kid doctor or will any do?” 

“A pediatrician would be best,” she explains. “In Indianapolis, we have a local pediatrician who does pro-bono work for children in the system. I included their number in the envelope, my cards in there, too, tell them I referred you.” 

“Thank you. This is more than anyone did for me when they dropped me off with Wayne,” he says, trying not to tear up a bit. “I’m going to take good care of him.” 

“I know you will,” she gives him a real smile, she touches his arm and then makes her way to the door. “You call if you need anything, but I think we’re all good here. Bye, Matthew!” 

He looks up from his book and gives her a wave, “Bye.” 

And then she’s gone. 

It’s just them now.

He has a kid.

A kid that will live with him and depend on him for… 18-6 is 12 but he’s 27 and still dependent on Wayne to an extent, so that’s 21 years. He’s going to have this kid forever. 

Eddie just watches him read for a moment, carefully keeping his distance. “Are you hungry?” 

He nods, “kinda.” 

“Do you have any favourite foods?” 

He shrugs, “Pringles.” 

Eddie sighs, of course. He remembers being fed Pringles and candied nuts and beef jerky from the gas station for years. He never had a real meal between his mom's death and moving in with Wayne.

“Have you ever had Mac and cheese?” 

Matthew shakes his head, looking confused. 

“Well, then I guess I’m going to have to introduce you to my favourite meal.” 

He fills a pot up with water and sets it on a burner, throws in a bit of salt and turns it on high. He pulls a box down from the cupboard and walks it over to Matthew, “See, this is Mac and cheese, it’s these little elbow-shaped noodles and a cheese powder that you mix with milk and butter and it becomes so delicious, you’re going to love it. You can try it by itself, or you can have ketchup on it like I do.” 

“I like ketchup,” he gives Eddie a little smile. “The lady at the drink place gives me ketchup with my fries.” 

He knows he means the bar. His dad brought him there for dinner a lot too because most nights a plate of fries was free when you ordered 3 or more beers. Sometimes, he’d get a burger or even some chicken tenders if the bartender thought he was cute… that stopped after he turned 8. By then he was a lanky, dirty kid no one wanted to deal with.

“So, Matt, how are you feeling?” 

“Hew,” he says, looking displeased. 

“What?” 

“My name is Matthew.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that. My name is Edward but people call me Eddie. It’s called a nickname,” he explains. “I know our father wasn’t big on nicknames, which is weird considering his preferred name is a nickname… but you don’t have to only go by Matthew. People can call you Matt, or Matty.” 

“Oh,” he settles with that. “So my dad is your dad?” 

He nods, “yeah… I mean he’s our father. There’s a big difference between a father and a dad.” Matt looks confused so Eddie starts to ramble. “You see, any man can father a kid, but not every man can be a dad. A dad is someone who takes care of you. Someone who reads you bedtime stories and tucks you in at night and kisses your forehead to see if you have a fever… a dad is someone who loves you and is always there for you. When I left our father, I moved in with his brother, Wayne. He did those things for me. He made me feel safe and cared for. Wayne is my dad.” 

“Oh,” he softens, looking behind Eddie, sad. “My mom did those things.” 

“My mom did too,” he understands. “Where is your mom?” 

“She’s an angel,” Matthew sighs, missing her. 

“So is my mom,” Eddie presses his lips together, awkwardly, trying not to smile but wanting him to feel comfortable. “But that’s okay, we’ve got each other now. I’m going to make sure we get you into school, and maybe tomorrow we can go shopping?” 

He nods excitedly, sitting up straight, “For what?” 

“Well, let’s see what you need,” Eddie says, looking for the bag of his things. He puts the box of Mac and cheese on the counter, the pot still isn’t boiling, it takes forever in here. He grabs the garbage bag and unties it, turning it over and dropping everything onto the carpeted floor. 

It smells so much like cigarettes that it honestly takes his breath away. “oh wow,” he tries not to gag. He smokes, sure, but not as much as Al, and definitely not in the fucking house. 

The pile of things is small. He starts to sort everything, he folds 2 pairs of jeans, 6 shirts, 3 pyjama bottoms and only 1 matching long sleeve top. He has 4 pairs of underwear that look like they’re for a toddler and no socks. There is 1 stuffed elephant and a picture of his mom in a frame… she looks a lot like his own mom. 

Al Munson has a type. 

“Okay,” he places his hands on his knees and bites his lip. “Well, looks like we need a bit of everything… new shoes, a good coat, some socks, a toothbrush, bathroom things? When was the last time you had a shower?” 

He shrugs, “I don’t remember?” 

“Okay, do you know how to shower alone?” 

He nods, standing up, “I do everything by myself.” 

“I figured… um, so while I make dinner do you want to go have a shower? I’m going to put your clothes in the wash later so you can wear one of my old shirts after?” Eddie offers, grabbing one of the other pairs of underwear out of the pile and standing up. “Come on, I’ll show you where everything is.” 

He shows him how the shower turns on and off, sets out some towels for him and tells him just how much shampoo he should use. He gets him a new shirt, places it on the counter with his underwear and heads to leave. 

“Thank you, Eddie,” Matthew says, giving him a little smile before he shuts the door, leaving him to do his own thing. 

In the kitchen he can hear the pot boiling, so he pours the macaroni into the bubbling water. He sets the cheese packet to the side and heads right to the washing machine. He switches his clothes over to the dryer and loads Matt's stuff into the washer. He’ll put it on when the shower turns off so he has good water pressure to get the soap out of his hair.

It’s remarkable how easy it is. 

This time yesterday he was eating cold pizza and drinking a beer, thinking he’d never have the kind of life his co-workers did. Today, he has a kid. Today he’s doing laundry and making dinner and he’s going to have to tuck a kid into bed. Tomorrow he’s going to have to take him shopping. He has no idea how he’ll keep doing this every day? If he’ll be good at it? If he’ll have the money, the strength, the energy… 

All he can do is try. That’s what Wayne did, and Wayne did a fantastic job. But Wayne also had help, he had friends with kids whom Eddie got most of his things from, ladies who watched him after school and neighbours who made sure he was up in time for the bus when Wayne worked late. 

He still has 6 minutes till the macaroni is done, so he heads to the phone, dials the number to his coworker and he waits. 

“Hello?” Daryl’s deep voice picks up. 

“Hey, it’s Eddie.” 

“What’s the van doing this time?” He asks, sounding annoyed. 

“Oh, nothing. No. That’s not why I called. I uh… my kid brother is going to be living with me from now on. He’s 6—

“Oh shit,” Daryl can’t believe it. 

“Yeah, you and Laurene wouldn’t happen to have your boy’s old clothes still, would you?” He asks, feeling bad but he has to ask. 

“We’ve got buckets of their shit down in the crawlspace, I’ll ask Laur to go through it later. I don’t think we’ve got shoes, though. Our boys went through shoes like mad— I swear if they weren’t outgrowing them they were blowing the souls out dragging them on the playground,” he goes off. Eddie can just imagine he’s shaking his head as he explains it all. 

“I’ve got an allowance for him from the state, so I can get him new shoes,” Eddie assures. “He has like 4 shirts and no socks. I need to get him a coat and a backpack, and do you guys have a good doctor? He needs to get a doctor.” 

Daryl laughs, “I never thought you’d be coming to me for parenting advice.” 

“Me either, but he’s my brother. I wasn’t going to let him go into the system. I was with 1 family before Wayne, it wasn’t terrible but I’ve heard the horror stories. I can’t let him go through that shit.” 

“You’re a good man,” Daryl compliments him. “I’ll see what we can find tomorrow, I’ll bring it by the trailer. You think he’s a regular-sized 6-year-old?”

He chuckles a bit, “I think? I’m not sure really. He’s so small. I don’t think I was ever that small.” 

“We were all small once,” he smiles through the phone. “How about you come over tomorrow for lunch, he can meet our boys and we’ll figure out sizing that way?” 

“Sounds perfect,” Eddie agrees. “Thanks again, Daryl. I really appreciate it.” 

“Any time kid, you have a good night.” 

“You too.” 

—

Dinner goes well, they talk about his favourite colours and if he likes music. He likes blue and his dad listened to the radio a lot. He hummed some songs he liked, nothing Eddie could really recognize cause it was probably new-age country. They put their plates in the sink, Eddie shows him where the ketchup goes in the fridge and they talk about getting some groceries tomorrow. Fun food. Things for snacks and easy dinners, and Eddie’s gonna have to start packing him lunches when he goes to school. 

He’s going to need a backpack and a lunch bag, a pencil case and pencils and crayons and Eddie’s going to need to help with homework. He doesn’t even know if the kid can read or write yet… 

Matt grabs the comic book again and sits back down on the couch, flipping back to the page he was on before, and looking at all the pictures. 

“Can you read?” Eddie asks, coming to sit beside him. 

He shrugs, “kinda.” 

“Cool,” he’s honestly impressed. “Have you ever had a comic book before?” 

“No… is that what this is?” 

“Yeah, I have a whole bunch. This is Wolverine 27, there’s 26 that come before it. I have most of them, you can read them all if you want?” He offers. “I also have some X-Men comics and a bunch of fantasy books— but they might be too advanced for you, so maybe I could read them to you?” 

He nods, a sweet gleam in his eyes, “Can you read me to sleep later?” 

“Of course, buddy,” he doesn’t even have to think twice. “Maybe I could read you my favourite book?” 

“What is it?” 

“It’s called Lord of The Rings,” he says with a smile. 

Maybe raising a kid could be fun. 

After explaining the plot to him and grabbing the old, well-read, book off the shelf, he looks at Matthew and the couple sheets he has laid out for him, “Would you want to sleep in my bed or out here on the couch tonight?” 

“I usually sleep in Dad's room,” he explains. “I have a bed in his closet.” 

The fucking closet again. Sure, it gives them both privacy, but a 3x5 room is nothing. It's stuffy and gross and you still hear everything Al gets up to in the middle of the night with his stupid friends. His heart breaks for Matthew. He wished he knew he had a brother sooner, he would’ve gotten Matthew and his mom away from Al as quick as humanly possible. 

Now all he can do is make it up to him. 

“Well, I was thinking you could have my room and I could get a couch that turns into a bed for me to sleep out here,” he explains his thinking. “I'm going to put all my clothes in the closet, I might get a new dresser or something for out here so you can keep all your things in your room.”

“Really? You mean it?” He lights right up. “I always wanted my own room.” 

Eddie smiles right back at him, “Well, now you’ve got one. It might take a little while for me to move my things out here and make it feel more like your space, but you’ll like it.” 

He nods, really happy with the thought of having his own space for the first time in his short little life. So happy, he gives Eddie a hug. 

“Oh,” he’s a bit shocked at first but then he softens, holding him back with a soft smile on his face. Eddie could really get used to this. “I’m glad you’re here, buddy.” 

“Me too,” he whispers against him, snuggling in, clearly tired after a long day. 

“Do you want to go to bed?” 

He nods, “Can I sleep with you?” 

“Uh… yeah, I just have to clean up a bit out here after I read to you but I can come back to your room?” Eddie compromises. He really wants to put his stuff in the washing machine before they go out tomorrow. 

He holds his hand and walks him down the hall to his bedroom, flicks on the light and watches Matt’s eyes light right up, “woah?” 

“You like it?” He smirks, it’s pretty basic. White paint covered in posters and homemade flags with his band's name on them. Homemade artwork from campaigns, photos from gigs and tickets from concerts and festivals he’s been to. 

“It’s so colourful,” he says as he lets go of Eddie’s hand and wanders over to his Iron Maiden poster. “He’s so… wow?” 

“His name is also Eddie… he’s the mascot for Iron Maiden, I’ll show you their music tomorrow in the van,” he promises. “You sure it’s not too scary to sleep in here?” 

He shakes his head, “No, it’s cool!” 

He can’t help but smile, it must run in the family to love this shit. He suddenly can’t wait to show him all the music he has, maybe teach him how to play guitar or hell, he might be into drums or bass and the boys can help him out. Having a little brother is a gift he never expected. This kid is so much like him, it’s going to be so fun. 

He never wanted a kid of his own… really, he just didn’t want to knock up some woman he didn’t love in the name of pretending to be straight. He didn’t want to change diapers and be up all night trying to soothe a crying crotch goblin. He’d do it if he had to, but he never put himself in the position to need to. Now he has Matt, he’s at a fun age, and he’s still mouldable. He can still be made into a good person, he’s not affected too much by their father which is a blessing. He was only with him half as long as Eddie was, and he turned out semi-okay? 

He turns the covers down, fluffs a pillow and flicks on the lamp light instead of the big light. “Come sit,” he offers, going to get his book from the shelf. 

Matt crawls into the bed, pulls the covers up over himself and sits there with his hands in his lap, patiently waiting for his story. 

“Has anyone read to you before?” 

He nods, “My mom did. Just little books, though,” he points at the massive book Eddie’s holding. “Not like that.” 

“I know, but the best part about these big books is that we can read this story every night for a while. It took Wayne a whole year to read it to me at bedtime,” he explains, taking a seat in the bed beside him. “So, it starts off kind of different… the narrator gives a rundown of the world first so that when you start reading, you’re not completely lost about what a hobbit is or where they live.” 

“Okay,” he nods along. 

“And the way the characters talk might be a bit strange, and the words are a bit long and some don’t exist in our world. If you need help understanding, don’t be afraid to ask me what something means,” he explains. “It’s hard to understand sometimes, but I’ve read it so many times I know almost everything about it.” 

He nods, leaning into Eddie’s arm and looking at the pages. “Are there pictures?” 

He shakes his head, “No, but I have drawn some of the scenes in my sketchbook, I can show you them later?” 

“Okay,” he settles against him and that’s how Eddie knows it’s time to start. 

“This book is largely concerned with Hobbits, and from its pages a reader may discover much of their character and a little of their history…”

He reads in his most normal voice, he’ll introduce voices for the characters later. he’s actually really excited about that. Wayne used to try and do voices for him, but he never could keep them consistent. Eddie, on the other hand, would do voices in his head when he read the book to himself. 

“They do not and did not understand or like machines more complicated than a forge-bellows, a water-mill, or a hand-loom, though they were skilful with tools. Even in ancient days they were, as a rule, shy of ‘the Big Folk’, as they call us,—

“Wait, so Hobbits are tiny?” Matthew asks. 

He nods, “Yeah, they’re probably about your size when they’re my age, but they have big hairy feet.” 

Matthew laughs, “I think I’m going to like this book.” 

Eddie smiles, “I think so, too” 

—

Wayne doesn’t work the same night shifts that he used to. He’s too old for that shit. Now, he comes home around 11pm, gets to sleep all night and goes back in at 3pm. He likes it this way. He’s always been more of a night owl, he enjoys sleeping when the sun is up more than anything, it runs in the family. It took Eddie most of his life to get onto a “normal” schedule for his 9-5. 

Wayne knocks on the trailer door lightly just as Eddie’s switching the laundry over. He rushes to the door and holds his finger up to his lips as he opens it, “Hey, let me come out here.” 

Wayne’s a little confused but he backs up and lets Eddie outside. “What’s goin’ on? You got someone over?” 

“Al had another kid after he got out, or during? I’m not sure about the logistics, but he got arrested again and now Matthew’s going to be living with me,” he explains. 

“That old fucker got another woman knocked up?” Wayne can’t believe it. “The courts should castrate ya after CPS takes two kids out of y’r care.” 

Eddie just chuckles, “Yeah, well, at least this one got away at 6.” 

“6?” Wayne repeats, eyes wide, “are you sure y’r up for that?” 

He nods, “he’s pretty calm and quiet. The social worker got us set up with an allowance so I’ll get $500 a month to take care of him and Daryl and his wife are going to hook us up with some hand-me-downs. Tomorrow I’m getting him some new shoes and underwear and a coat. And socks. He didn’t come with any socks?” 

“You didn’t either,” Wayne reminds him. 

He sighs, remembering all too well just how hard it was to be with Al for so long. “Yeah, well, we’re getting him everything he needs now. I need to get him set up at school, he needs a doctor, too… but we’ll be okay.” 

“You said his name is Matthew?” 

He nods, “had to teach him what nicknames are too. He likes Matt so far.” 

“Good, good,” Wayne places his hands on his hips and shakes his head. “Wow, never thought I’d be here again.” 

“I told him you’re my dad,” Eddie explains. “Al’s just the man who made us, but dads take care of us.” 

Wayne lets out a huff and presses his lips together, his eyes well a bit, “boy…” 

“I know, I know,” Eddie laughs it off. “You’re not good with emotions, but it’s true. And who knows, he might start calling you grandpa with this logic.” 

“You’re gonna be a good dad to that kid,” Wayne compliments, meaning it with every fibre of his being. 

Eddie just reaches out and hugs him, “Yeah, well, I learned from the best.”

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

Steddie

@nosaladallowed-ao3  @wifeyreid @girl-with-an-orange-cat @sunshinemunchkin @luna-munson83 @manda-panda-monium @steve-thehair-mamabear 

Single Dads fic

@stevesbipanic 

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Two - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with Chapter One! Masterlist :)

Chapter Two - Boys and Their Toys

After another drink or two, chatting with Juniper from Atmosphere Aces and Willow from your team, you finally stood from your seat and put a $50 on the bar then walked out the front door of the Dust Devil and headed across the street to the Twister Trail Motel. The whole town of Prairie Winds was practically based on it being in tornado alley and being the main place storm chasers would stop while out chasing.

As soon as you were a few steps away from the front door, you heard it open again and footsteps behind you, a small part of you hoped it would be Tyler. 

“(Y/n)!” The voice called, it not being Tyler. 

You turned around to see Finn, the camera guy and driver for your team, the Storm Riders. 

“Hey, Finn! What’s up?” You asked, him stepping up beside you. 

“I was just curious as to what’s goin’ on with you and Owens, I saw you both get kinda close while dancing and then again while at the bar,” he started to ramble, one of his classic traits when he was drinking, “I just worry about you, since you’re like a big sister to me and we’ve known each other since you were in high school and I was in middle school, I would just hate for your heart to get broken by some idiot cowboy.” 

“Finn. Finn,” you tried to interrupt.

“I don’t think I could live with myself if he hurt you and I didn’t try to stop something from happening. Your parents would kill me as they made me promise to keep you safe out here,” he kept going. You couldn’t help but chuckle at him, putting your hands on his arms. 

“FINN,” you said sternly, jolting him out of his rampage. 

“W-What?” He stuttered while catching his breath, you both realized he hadn't taken a breath that whole time. 

“I will be fine, he just wants to take me out to dinner tomorrow night,” you said, dragging Finn to your side while walking to the motel, “I know you feel like it’s your job to protect me, but you need to remember that I am a few years older than you and know how to handle myself.” 

He sighed, “I know, I just would hate for you to get heartbroken again…” 

You stopped in the middle of the road and pulled Finn in close. He was one of the only people you trusted back in your early 20s. He was one of your go-to people, aside from your best friend Willow, whom you went to after your breakup with Derek who you had been with for almost five years. He had moved to New York to go to college and after a week of hardly talking to one another, the girl he was cheating on you with slipped up and accidentally tagged him in a post of them kissing on Instagram. The next day you sent everything he owned to his college dorm including the heart necklace he gave you for your birthday the last year you were together, along with a very long letter on tear-stained paper that you had written the night before while your heart was breaking with every word you wrote. 

“I will be okay, Finny,” you said, rubbing his back, “I’ll let you know if anything goes wrong or he does something stupid.” 

“Promise, (Y/n/n)?” He asked, holding out his pinkie finger. 

You linked your pinkie with him, “I promise. Now go back into the bar and have some fun, it’s forecasted for clear skies the rest of the week.” 

“You got it!” He said, pulling you into an embrace one last time before running back into the bar. 

You laughed and shook your head, then turned and walked back to the motel. Before heading up the stairs outside of your room, you decided to stop by your blue F-350 dually truck that was parked right next to Tyler’s red Ram 3500 dually. You pressed the unlock button on your key fob, the headlights shining brightly across to the bar. Earlier you had already brought your suitcase to your room, but you wanted to double-check that you had everything extra that you picked up in Thunderbird Bluff, the last town you were in. 

While digging under the seats you grabbed onto a cloth object, pulling it out becoming confused as all your clothes were in your suitcase. You held it up in the dim lights provided by the motel to see a tornado, the red truck you were parked next to, and a cartoon face of Tyler on the front of the shirt, the words being “not my first tornadeo” across it. 

You threw the shirt over your shoulder and smirked remembering Dani giving it to you after you got caught in an EF3 with your shirt getting torn off as you were on your way back from a smaller wedding in a field for Jade and Tristan, both members of Storm Riders. 

After shutting the truck doors, you locked it and turned toward the stairs, only to be startled by Tyler leaning against his truck with his cowboy hat in his hands. 

“Mighty nice of you to blind half the bar with those pretty headlights of yours,” he said, using his hat to gesture to the front of your truck. 

“Oh shit,” you mumbled, your hand covering your mouth, “Oops.” 

He chuckled, “I figured I’d come out to make sure you weren’t skippin’ town on me after I asked you out.”

“Even if I did, Owens, you’d find me one way or another,” you stated, walking over to the stairs. 

“Like my saying goes, sweetheart,” he started, “if you feel it.” 

“Chase it,” you said, going up a few steps to the first landing. 

“See, you’re gettin’ it,” he said, leaning against the stair railing and looking up at you, “Is that one of the Tornado Wrangler shirts?” 

You hoped he wouldn’t see that, but he snatched it off your shoulder to hold it up. 

“It was the only option I had after Jade and Tristan’s wedding,” you said, rubbing your forehead as you were starting to get tired and just wanted to head to your room, “You can have it, I don’t think it would look good if I wore a rival team’s shirt.” 

“But darlin’, you’d look good in my shirt,” he said while smirking and holding it up to your figure. 

“Very cheesy,” you said, walking up the stairs farther. 

“What do you say about tomorrow afternoon?” He asked, folding the shirt up and tossing it up to you. 

“I’m sure I’m free, most of the team will sleep until mid-morning due to the hangovers they’ll get from tonight,” you laughed, gesturing over to the bar where the music was still blaring. 

“Same with the wranglers, except Dexter, he snuck out the back and headed to bed an hour or so ago,” he said, laughing, “You know how those scientists are.” 

“Yeah, I’m surprised Tristan and Sage from Atmosphere Aces are still partying it up,” you said, leaning over the railing and looking down at Tyler. 

“Maybe we can get breakfast in the morning?” He asked, “Down at JoAnn’s Whirlwind diner…” 

“I’d like that, they have the best apple pie in the county,” you said, smiling, “Should we take Lil Blue here or are we takin’ Ol Red?” 

“How dare you think I’d be caught dead in a Ford, darlin,” he chuckled, “I won’t go anywhere without Ol Red.” 

“As I figured, boys and their toys,” you giggled to yourself, turning around and unlocking the door to your room. 

“What was that little lady?” He asked, putting his hat back on and putting his hands on his hips while shifting his weight to one side.

“I said goodnight, Tyler,” you said, tossing the bag of necessities on the queen bed you had all to yourself. 

“I don’t think that was it,” he said, shaking his head, “But I’ll let it slide this once, (Y/n).” 

“Like you would do anything otherwise, Ty,” you said as you leaned over the railing one last time before heading inside. 

“I’ll have you be aware that my truck is not a TOY,” he stated, shifting his weight to his other hip, “It’s a tornado-wrangling machine!” 

You laughed, “Mhmm, sure it is.” 

“Goodnight beautiful,” he said, looking up at you and giving you a wink. 

“Goodnight, Tyler,” you said, “I’ll see you at JoAnn’s.” 

“It’s a date,” he said with the biggest smile you’ve seen on the man in quite some time. 

You turned around and walked into your motel room, shutting and locking the door behind you, pressing your forehead to the cool door, smiling and giggling to yourself. While not really believing that you would be going on a date with Tyler Owens, who was basically the biggest heartthrob of the storm-chasing community and most likely all of Tornado Alley. Just thinking about tomorrow and what it held sent tingles down your spine and butterflies around your stomach.

Want more? Here's Chapter Three!

[amnesique]

jealous, jealous, jealous boy — xavier thorpe x reader x tyler galpin

part 1

pairing : xavier thorpe x reader x tyler galpin

summary : less than a week after you slept with tyler to get revenge on xavier, your ex, he finds out about it and comes after you to ask you for explanations, as if you were obliged to give them to him.

warnings : mentions of sex, mature language, angst, slut-shaming, name calling

"you won't believe it when i tell you!" enid said to wednesday in a sing-song tone, taking her usual place at the table, looking left and right, hoping that you or xavier weren't around.

wednesday's facial expression was the same as before, without expressing any emotion, despite her roommate's enthusiasm. no one could tell what was going through her mind. not even enid. but she continued anyway.

enid was known to know everyone's gossip, so it didn't take long for her to find out about what you did to get back at xavier when he broke up with you.

"as soon as xavier broke up with y/n a few days ago," enid started whispering in the girl's ear, though she was still unfazed, "she went to weathervane and she ended up having sex with tyler."

wednesday wanted to roll her eyes at her roommate's words, but she restrained herself from only pulling away from the girl to stare at her intently. "why should i care?"

"why should you care?" the girl repeated after her, her eyes widening. it was the first time that someone remained unimpressed by such gossip, but probably should have expected that from the wednesday addams.

wednesday nodded lightly. if you weren't paying attention, you wouldn't have noticed.

"do you really find it so uninteresting that y/n slept with tyler?" enid asked her, forgetting to speak in a whisper and turning a few looks towards her.

suddenly, being the wrong man at the wrong time, xavier thorpe had appeared near the two girls and happened to hear the last words of the girl with blonde hair, dyed at the tips.

he couldn't believe his ears.

"y/n slept with tyler?" he asked, a short and to the point question, feeling like a damn joke while the rest of the students sighed in surprise while enid put her hand over her mouth, regretting the words that came out of it.

nobody said anything.

xavier swallowed hard and cleared his throat, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "where is y/n?"

"xavier—", enid wanted to say something, feeling stupid that she was so talkative and that the boy found out this kind of news from her, in front of everyone... but wednesday got ahead of her.

"she's at weathervane."

of course that she is there, xavier thought and hurried to leave the school yard, ignoring the looks of pity that were thrown at him, and to hurry to reach the cafe before the end of the lunch break.

meanwhile, not knowing that what you did became the gossip of the week at nevermore academy, you quietly drank you coffee while running your fingers on the stem of the cup and kept your eyes on tyler, who was now taking the order at a table close by.

however, your silence didn't last long because xavier came through the door like a tornado, drawing other looks at him, from the locals of jericho, and startling you when he sat down across from you.

"tell me you didn't actually do it." he said, getting straight to the point, making an effort to look at you with his now dark eyes.

tyler took the order, but stood still, looking at you, twirling the notebook in his fingers, ready to intervene. not because you needed his help, but because he barely had you and didn't want anyone to intervene, especially thorpe.

being truly taken by surprise, you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "do what, exactly?"

"you know what i'm talking about." he answered you, putting a hand on the table, wanting to touch you. in that moment tyler wanted to come to you, but you got scared because of the darkness in xavier's eyes and withdrew your hand, following to let your both hands slip from your cup, and he remained in place, staring at the golden brown-haired boy with clenched jaw.

"no, xavier," you replied in a calm tone, explaining how much the situation was stressing you out, "i have no idea what you're talking about."

"you fucked galpin!" the words came out of his mouth louder than he intended and you swallowed hard.

tyler gave up the damn trust that you were doing fine on your own and approached your table, taking advantage of the fact that he screamed to motivate his intervention.

he put his hand on xavier's shoulder, saying "ok, man, if you keep yelling like that, i'll have to kick you out of the cafe." as if he gave two fucks about his clients at that moment.

xavier snarled, pulling his shoulder out from under tyler's palm so fast it felt like it was burning. "don't you fucking try to touch me!" shouted the boy from the nevermore academy.

tyler threatened him again, this time just with his look, running his tongue furiously across the front of his teeth.

"you fucking fucked my girlfriend, man!" said the boy, standing up, him looking down at him, taking advantage of the fact that he was a little taller. "such things are not done!"

"she wasn't your girlfriend!"

"i wasn't your girlfriend anymore!"

you both said at the same time. first tyler, dropping his head a little to one side, and the second you, getting up from the table too.

xavier had a fake smile on his lips, which instead of hiding his disappointment from the rest of the world, emphasized it more, and he was close to you in less than a second, ignoring the palm tyler placed on his chest to slow him down. "so you admit you did it!" he concluded after your words, raising an accusing finger at you.

driven by the fact that not only was he making fun of himself, but you and tyler at the same time, you erased the space left between you, grasping him by his finger to force him to put it down. "i don't have to admit anything to you. get that in your head, okay?" you asked him rhetorically with a fake smile on your face. "i can sleep with whoever i want as long as you broke up with me." you added and turned on your heels as tyler withdrew his hand, both of you thinking that it was over.

you were so close to leaving the cafe, taking advantage of the fact that you hadn't made a fool of yourself yet, but his voice stopped you, with your hand on the door handle.

"you know what that makes you, don't you?" he asked you and you instinctively turned to give him one last look. "a whore." he formed the word, just by moving his lips, no sound being heard. and somehow, that hurt more.

without thinking, acting on the spur of the moment, tyler pulled him by the collar of his nevermore academy shirt, and punched him directly in the nose, channeling all his anger into that blow.

putting his hand to his nose, and ignoring the bleeding, xavier gave tyler a fake laugh. "that's all you can do?" he asked, trying to mock him, then he turned to you. "have your standards really gone that low?" he asked you, continuing to ignore how his blood was pumping because of the blow.

"don't talk to her!" tyler got in front of him and grabbed him by the collar again.

xavier laughed again, "what are you going to do?" he asked and didn't give him time to answer. "are you going to hit me again?" but as soon as he said this, he changed his mind. "or, oh no, are you going to fuck my girlfriend again?"

"for the last fucking time," tyler said each word through his teeth, squeezing them together as hard as he squeezed fist around his throat. "she was not your fucking girlfriend."

xavier wanted to say something else, but instead he struggled to breathe, making only weak sounds. tyler's gaze took a very dark turn, and you didn't know whether to feel scared, because it was the first time you'd seen him so enraged, or to get turned on because, oh, how good he looked when he defended you.

the door opens and you quickly step aside, still watching from the sidelines as tyler didn't seem to want to let go of xavier.

"what the hell is going on here, tyler?" a very familiar voice thundered throughout the cafe and only then did you move your gaze towards that person, realizing that the person who had just entered was tyler's father. the sheriff.

only then did tyler let go of the boy, who fell towards the edge of the table where you were sitting, clinging to it, to struggle to breathe again normally.

and you would find yourself talking even though you actually knew you were the reason. "believe me, sheriff galpin, i'd like to know that too." you said with a sly smile, making eye contact with tyler, as if he didn't have much left and was killing your ex-boyfriend.

apparently one of the customers announced the sheriff about that whole circus.

part 3

[marie-swriting]

Back To Life - TASM!Peter Parker

Marvel Masterlist

Speak Now TV Masterlist

Summary : Your mom and May set you and Peter up on a date, thinking you'll be a good match but both of you think it won't work.

Warnings : mention of Gwen's and Uncle Ben's deaths, mention of toxic relation (no details), anxiety, a bit of angst, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3.1k

French version

Song inspiration : Electric Touch by Taylor Swift Feat. Fall Out Boys (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

Your clothes are scattered everywhere in your room; it looks like there has been a tornado though it doesn’t stop you from looking for the perfect outfit in your closet. Wrapped in a bathroom towel, despair takes over your body, you should have never listened to your mom. At least, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You grunt when someone knocks on your bedroom door, you tell the person to come in and your mom enters.

“You’re still not ready? He’s coming in thirty minutes!”

“Yes, mom, I know!” you drily retort before taking a softer voice, “Sorry. I just don’t know what to wear, I’m getting fed up.”

“Just put on something you feel good in.”

“Easier said than done! I only find flaws in my clothes. I don’t even know why I listened to you in the first place. I don’t even know him and we already have a date. This guy might be awful.” you start to ramble, pacing around your room. “I mean, you don’t even really know him either. You only know what your colleague May told you. Maybe she made him better than he actually is!”

“I might not know him personally, though I’ve seen him several times and do I need to remind you you saw him once, too. You even found him cute.”

“I saw him for five minutes, two years ago, it doesn’t count.”

“I’m sure Peter is a nice guy.” your mom affirms, stroking your cheek to calm you down. “Just to prove it to you, whenever May forgets her lunch, he always brings it to her with a big smile on his face and a kiss on the cheek. He always comes with her at work when it’s dark. And every time I talked with him, he was really polite. Do you seriously think I would have set you up on a date with the first guy I found? I have some instincts, sweetheart.”

“I’m still not convinced. We only exchanged, like, three messages and it was just to make sure it was still okay for today. Besides, maybe he won’t like me. And even if it works out tonight, who knows if it’ll last? I got a history of stories ending badly. That’s it, I’m not going, it’ll be for the better.” you state, taking your phone but your mom takes it from your hands.

“You’re not gonna cancel. Just breathe, just relax, it’ll be okay.” she tells you softly. “Look, I know your last relationship with George went bad and you suffered a lot because of it but you can’t keep closing your heart to new people because you’re scared you’ll find another version of him. Furthermore, even if things didn’t match between you and Peter, which I know won't be the case, you would have at least taken a step forward, you don’t have to be worried. Come on, put this on and you’ll see, you’ll be beautiful and at ease in your clothes.” your mom adds as she gives you a mid-length dress. “I have to go to work. Text me when you’re home, okay? Be careful. It’s going to be okay, sweetheart, I’m sure.”

Your mom kisses you one last time on the forehead before leaving your room. You let go of a sigh then finish getting ready. While doing your makeup, you can’t help but keep checking your phone, waiting for a potential message from Peter telling you the date is cancelled. Your mom managed to calm your anxiety down, yet your fear quickly came back once you’re alone again. For you, this date can only end in two ways: either it ends badly and it’ll break your heart, which is most likely to happen, or everything will be good and your heart will finally heal, which you doubt. You wonder if Peter is in the same state of mind as you.

The answer is easy: his state of panic is worse than yours. He only agreed to this date to make Aunt May happy. Since Gwen’s death, he has closed himself off but now, he wants to make an effort. However, among those efforts, ‘going out with other people’ wasn’t part of it, especially if it ends up putting another person he loves in danger; he can’t reproduce what happened with Gwen. At first, he tried to get out of it, though May insisted so much that he gave in. He sees this date as his last chance to check if he can have a romantic life whilst being Spider-man. He’d love for it to work just one time yet he can’t help but be pessimistic about it. 

Knowing you’re only meeting at the end of the day, Peter decided to go on his daily patrol earlier. Nothing much stands out of the ordinary, therefore, he comes home just on time to get ready. At least, no matter if this date is catastrophic, he’s sure he’ll be on time.

Entering his room, he takes off his Spider-man suit and takes a shower. In his closet, he takes the first outfit he finds then he starts panicking. 

“It’s a first date, I can’t wear whatever clothes I find,” he tells himself. 

He’s about to change when he wonders why he’s overthinking this much when he knows it’s not gonna work out. You’re probably not going to like him or vice-versa. So, he puts back on his black t-shirt and takes a glance at himself in the mirror. His outfit is casual, maybe too casual for a first date. He should add a jacket. He can’t tell the difference it makes. He has no idea if his outfit is okay. After all, he doesn’t want to try too much but on the other hand, he wants to try a bit, you deserve to have a date with a guy who is presentable. He ends up changing his black t-shirt for a dark blue one. It’s less sad, isn’t it? As soon as he checks the time, he realises he can’t think any longer and goes to do his hair. May interrupts him to tell him she’s leaving for work.

“You look cute like this, I’m sure Y/N will agree with me.”

“Don’t know.” Peter mutters, turning around to be in front of May.

“Believe me, it’s already the case. Her mom told me you caught her eyes.” She affirms with a big smile.

“It doesn’t mean this date will go well. I’m not even sure I want to go out with someone else, Aunt May.”

“Peter, I know Gwen’s death has been hard on you but you can’t stay stuck in a world where Gwen is with you,” May starts as she puts her hands on her nephew. “You have to move on. That doesn’t mean you’re going to forget her. Gwen will always be in your heart and that’s normal, but it doesn’t mean you can’t let another person in. Besides, this date doesn’t have to end with a relationship. I’m already proud to see you allow yourself to move on despite the pain.”

“I miss her.” Peter whispers.

“I know, honey.”

“Do you think pain ever stops?”

“I think it becomes easier to live with it,” May softly answers. “You know, now I can think about your Uncle Ben without feeling my heart breaking completely. I can think about the good memories first before remembering he’s not here anymore. It’ll be okay for you, too, Peter. I’m sure of it.”

Peter smiles one last time at his aunt while she leaves the room. When Peter is ready, he checks his phone and sees you haven’t cancelled last minute, so he has no other choice than leaving to take the subway. Technically, he should be at your place at 7:00 P.M. sharp so you can go to a dinner which is fifteen minutes away from your home. 

In the subway, Peter’s stress gets higher and higher as he thinks about what he could say to you, after all, he doesn’t know you. Your conversations might be empty and if it’s the case, it’s going to be a very very long date. As he thinks about a question he could ask you as an icebreaker, the subway abruptly stops. Peter looks through the windows and he sees they haven’t arrived at the next station yet. Suddenly, a voice interrupts Peter’s interrogations as it informs them:

“Dear passengers, we are currently having some technical difficulties. We are doing everything we can to fix the situation as quickly as possible. We apologise for this inconvenience.”

Peter sighs once he hears this information. He is going to be late. Great. He takes his phone out of his pocket to text you but, of course, he doesn’t have a signal.

For him, this breakdown is like a sign, he shouldn’t have accepted to go out with someone. Even if all of this doesn’t end like Gwen, the fact is, it won’t work, it’s for certain. He’d like not to suffer again, yet Peter feels like he’s allergic to happiness. 

Peter tries to calm down his anxiety as he thinks back to Aunt May’s words and puts his phone away before waiting until the situation is fixed. 

As for you, you’re waiting for Peter, sitting on your living room couch. It’s almost seven, he should be here any minute now. From time to time, you glance at the window but you don’t see him. The more the time goes by, the more you’re fidgeting. 

“Just breathe, just relax, it’ll be okay”, your mother’s words resonate in your head in vain.

Your eyes go from the window to your phone, both of them bring you no news about Peter’s whereabouts. You start biting your lips, imagining the worst case scenarios. Maybe he stood you up? No, your mom assured you he was a nice guy, he wouldn’t do it. Maybe you gave him the wrong address? You check your messages and discover you made no mistake. Maybe you were wrong on the day and time of the date? Once again, your messages prove you wrong. Maybe something bad happened to him, then? No, you can’t start imagining awful things. He’s just late, nothing else. Right?

You wait a little bit more and when it’s half past seven, you text him to know where he is. You don’t get an answer. You start biting your nails whilst your heart begins to race in your chest, the stress getting out of hand, you don’t understand what’s happening and you start second-guessing this date. It was clearly a mistake, you should have never agreed to it. You would have loved for it to work for once however it seems like you’re doomed. You were right, you are going to have your heart broken and this date will end badly - if Peter ever shows up.

After being stuck for forty minutes in the subway, Peter finally arrives at your station. He weaves in between people as he runs so he isn’t any later than he already is. Five minutes later, he sees your house from afar. As soon as he passes by your living room window,  you see him running like he’s being chased by something. Checking your phone, you see it’s 8:05. He’s more than an hour late, at that realisation, you roll your eyes. He better have a good excuse. You have already had guys who weren’t punctual, you don’t need another one! 

Once he’s at your door, he quickly runs a hand in his hair, takes a deep breath before knocking. He waits for a moment before you open the door. As soon as he sees you, Peter is mesmerised by your beauty so he just stands there, saying nothing. When you give him a look, he snaps back before speaking. 

“I’m so sorry for being late. I was stuck in the subway and-”

“I would have appreciated a text.” you interrupt him, drily.

“I didn’t have a signal. I got one once I arrived at the station. Normally, I’m always on time, I swear. I’m sorry I made you wait. You probably thought I stood you up which is totally normal but I didn’t. I tried to come here as soon as I could when the subway worked again.” Peter explains and you can tell he’s being sincere. “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I? I didn’t mean it. I totally get it if you don't want us to go out.”

“I still want to. The subway broke down, it’s not your fault,” you reassure him with a smile.

Upon hearing your sentence, Peter smiles back at you. Even if he wasn’t excited to go out with you, he made a commitment to you and he always makes sure to fulfil his promises.

You take your bag and close your front door. Peter lets you walk first and you go to the diner. On the way there, you ask Peter a few more questions about the subway breakdown, not really knowing what topic is best to bring first.

Once you’re at your table, you keep doing small talk. Just by looking at you two, people could tell you’re not at ease, you don’t know how to act toward the other. None of you is ready to have a deep conversation. It's as if you have forgotten how to act on a first date. You even think about making up an excuse to leave. The conversation is awkward until you order your food. After talking about yet another random topic, Peter sighs before talking: 

“I’m sure this situation is as awkward for you as it is for me. Your mom and my aunt set us up but it doesn’t mean it has to feel like this. I don’t know for you, but it’s my first date in a long time and I’m a bit rusty. My last relationship ended…, let’s just say, tragically, and so maybe we don’t really need to put big expectations for tonight. We should just get to know each other without expecting anything in particular and just see where it leads us, if that’s okay with you?”

“That’s okay with me.” you agree, letting go of a sigh of relief. “My last relationship ended badly, too. It was pretty toxic and I have to admit I need to warm up to new people first.”

“Let’s take it slowly then. No need to have a big romantic date, let’s just have a nice moment with someone new. What do you say?”

“I say I agree with you.”

From that moment on, the tension leaves your table, letting you get to know each other in peace. Peter asks some questions about the last book you read and quickly, you start talking about your interests, no matter if you have them in common or not. 

In the end, you spend a good moment together. You hadn’t laughed that much in a long time. Peter is instantly enamoured by your laugh, loving the way your face brightens. Peter talks a bit about him and you have to admit you like his personality more and more. You mom was right, Peter is genuinely nice. At some points, you both mention your last relationship, without going into too much detail. You still have a long way to go, though you’re not against the idea of walking side by side.

After eating, you stay a bit longer at the restaurant, not noticing the time going by. When you leave, it’s past 10:00 P.M. As soon as you’re outside, you shiver because of the cold night. Peter notices it and offers you his jacket. At first, you refuse, but he insists so you accept it. As he puts his jacket on your shoulder, his right hand brushes past your shoulder and you shiver again, yet  this time, it’s not because of the cold, your heart also beats faster yet, not because of your anxiety. His touch is like electricity and upon raising your head, you see how close Peter is to you and you think about how even more beautiful he is at this distance. You try not to show anything as you start walking to your place.

On the way home, you keep talking and you wish this moment would never end. You never thought you’d feel this connected to a man this quickly. As for Peter, he never thought he would let himself look tenderly at another woman who isn’t Gwen. Aunt May was right, Gwen will always be in his heart however he’s not as against the idea of letting someone new in as he used to be. Maybe not right away, but if you were to find your way to his heart, he would be happy about it.

Once you’re in front of your door, you give Peter his jacket back and you secretly hope to touch his hand but the clothes prevent you from doing it. You smile at Peter as he finishes talking about his theory about the multiverse. 

“It was really nice tonight. I didn’t think I would have such a great time.” he smiles.

“Me neither. I had some apprehension.”

“I get it.”

“You know, I wouldn’t mind doing something like this again,” you start, avoiding his gaze, “I’d be happy to see where this leads us, even if we’re taking our time.”

“I’d be happy about it, too. Do you think it’s too soon to tell you you’re stunning? I’ve been thinking about it all evening and I just thought I should tell you before leaving and regret not telling you.”

At his compliment, your cheeks heat up while a smile makes its way on your face which Peter finds more than cute. Knowing he made you smile warms his heart.

“It’s not too soon, I appreciate the compliment. You’re cute, too. And do you think it’ll be too soon if I kissed your cheek?” you ask and Peter freezes. Instantly, you regret your question and you don’t know what to do with yourself. “Sorry, I went too far, I shouldn’t have.”

“I just didn’t expect this but I wouldn’t mind.”

A bit embarrassed, you get closer to Peter and put your hand on his cheek before kissing his right one. Feeling your touch on his skin, Peter can’t breathe for a second. He didn’t think your touch would be this electric on his skin. The kiss was short yet it’s already engraved in his memory. He knows he’s going to think about it every second of the day. When you back up, you wish him a good night before entering your house. Peter stands there until your door is closed, then he leaves your porch, a big smile on his lips. 

You both lovingly think back to the evening you’ve just had. You know it’s only the beginning, though you already know one just like the other will know how to bring your heart back to life. You already want to see each other again and maybe it’ll take some time to allow yourself to fully fall in love again, but you don’t mind. For once, you know it’s going to end well.

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