#but in later acts i think she’s still seeing the same thing just with a different uhhh mindset

[gold-onthe-inside]

diplomat

who? spencer reid (s6/7) x mayor!reader summary: after a schoolbus full of kids goes missing, right near the end of your first term as mayor, an old flame is called to help, and he intends to make things right. content warnings: child abduction, politics word count: 1.2k a/n: based on req: a case takes the BAU back to Pasadena, California (Spencer’s old college town) where they encounter Spencer’s ex who also happens to be the mayor.

He hasn’t seen you in over a decade, and honestly, he hadn’t thought you’d still be here, in Pasadena of all places, in the same precinct they were going to be working out of, trying to solve a serial child abduction case, least of all talking to the captain and the police chief. To be fair, all he really knew was that you had gotten into Stanford, the leg up into politics that you had wanted all along. Spencer swallowed, deaf to anything the lead detective was saying as he watched you in the glass panelled office, acting like it was yours as you listened to both men in uniform talk to you deferentially.

“Reid?” Hotch’s voice brings him back to the conversation at hand.

“Hm?” Spencer asked, looking at his own chief, Derek looking down to hide his amused smile. “I’m sorry, just, uh… who’s that in there? With the police chief?” he asked the detective.

“That’d be the mayor,” the detective — Bryant something — replied. “There’s a lot of pressure to find these kids, and we’re already under fire for not seeing the pattern sooner.” Once again, everything falls away as he pieced that into his limited information on you. Mayor? You? He looked back over his shoulder to the glass office, the police chief leading you out of the room and over to… Crap.

“You must be Agent Hotchner,” you said, a polite smile as you raised your hand and if you’d noticed Spencer, you did a very good job of keeping yourself unmoved.

“Madam Mayor,” Hotch replied, shaking your hand, while Spencer did his utmost best to sink into the carpet.

“I’ve followed your team’s work,” you said, eyes scanning over the rest of them, briefly landing on Spencer before returning to Hotch. “I’m hoping you live up to your reputation here. If you need anything, the city’s at your disposal.”

That was 48 hours ago. You were considerably less chipper than you had been back then, while the local PD and the rest of the town was downright hostile to the team. Not a cycle went by that your face wasn’t on the local news, with JJ in the background as their liaison, asking for patience and cooperation from your city, and not for the first time, Spencer felt this pang in his chest as he watched you look at the camera, filled with a sense of failure.

“Reid?” Emily called, looking at him with concern, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“You haven’t touched your food,” she reminded him, pointing at his still wrapped burger and he looked down at it.

“I’m not really hungry,” he said lamely, standing up. “I think I need to clear my head.” Emily’s brow was still creased with concern, but she nodded, letting him go without too many questions.

He might as well be burning holes in his sneakers as he walked to city hall, going through white arches, the dome towering over him, flashing his badge at the security personnel so he can go see you. Your secretary looks at him curiously, about to bar his entry until he explains his credentials, and then it’s a question of whether Spencer trumps whatever meeting you’re holed up in.

“The main problem you’re gonna face is from district 6—” You see him through the crack in the door, behind your secretary, as you lean against the back of your desk, listening to your analyst, “—seeing as a lot of the recent abductions have happened in that area. I’ve got confirmation from Chapman’s office that they’re getting calls to challenge you in the electio—”

“Mandy, can we table this for later?” you asked, interrupting the woman who seemed to finally register Spencer’s presence.

Spencer swallowed as Mandy gave him a once-over before leaving the two of you together, closing the door behind her. “You shouldn't be here,” you said, moving to turn the presentation boards around, even though it was useless — you knew Spencer had already memorised them whether he wanted to or not. A decade ago, you had marvelled at his memory, had been envious of it, but since the separation, you were thankful that time had faded the sting of it. Now, he was back, the scab that had grown over the injury torn asunder.

“You're up for re-election?” Spencer asked, watching your every move carefully, and it felt like he had crawled under your skin. It didn't matter how tough you had built it, Spencer knew you too well.

“You're in the FBI?” you asked, mirroring his tone, and when he furrowed his brow, you added, “Sorry, I thought we were asking obvious questions.”

“You haven't changed,” he said wryly and you raised a brow at him.

“You'd be surprised.” You gestured for him to take a seat. “I really hope you're here on official business.”

“I can pretend to be,” Spencer offered with a flicker of a smile. He'd missed your smile, now that he thought about it, and he hasn't seen it once since he came back.

“Spencer,” you said, pained, closing your eyes. “Can we not do this?”

“Do what?” he asked gently, innocent enough and you looked at him.

“Why are you here?” you asked softly, like someone was pulling a splinter from your hand. He'd done that for you once, reciting statistics about bacterial infections to distract you as he gently pulled the little splinter out and swabbed the wound with antiseptic. You'd asked him to kiss it better, in a way that made him forget about bacteria and germs altogether. “Spencer,” you repeated, snapping him out of the memory.

“I'm sorry,” he said gently, stepping closer.

“It's fine,” you said, dismissively, looking at the documents waiting your approval as he came closer, tentatively closing his hand around your wrist, murmuring your name.

“I'm really sorry,” he emphasised and your chest tightens, your breathing halted by his proximity. “I didn't… I didn't want you to see me as some… weird genius. I didn't want you to look at me like everyone—”

“That's your excuse?” you demanded hotly, looking at him with angry tears pricking your eyes. “You didn't want some lowly community college student to feel less than?”

“What? No!”

“Just because I didn't go to CalTech doesn't make me an idiot, Spencer,” you continued. “What, you thought I couldn’t handle knowing you were a PhD student at 18?”

“No, I couldn't,” he insisted, looking down at you. “I… You don't understand what it's like to not be like everyone else—”

“Oh, right, how traumatising it must be to be smarter than everyone—”

“Will you let me finish?” he retorted sharply. “I felt normal around you, don't you get it? Like I wasn't some weirdo or-or a freak. I know, it was selfish a-and I lied to you for months and I shouldn't have but, God, I just wanted to feel like a normal person for once!”

You said nothing, looking up at him for a long moment. “You shouldn't have lied to me,” you said eventually, quietly.

“I know,” he whispered.

“I loved you.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to hate you for so long.”

“I know.”

“I…” Still love you. “I have to get back to work.”

Spencer took a breath, nodding as he stepped back. “I get it,” he said softly. “I just uh… I wanted to explain.”

You swallowed, nodding stiffly. “You look nice, by the way,” he added, looking at you. “Your hair. Um, I'm gonna go,” he said, a blush creeping up his neck as he turned to leave and you smiled to yourself a little.

Some things never changed.

[pineapplehazard]

Buck had been particularly down this week. Bobby couldn't help but notice how little excitement Buck had shown about the team playing a role in Brad's show. Knowing how smiley and happy he usually got whenever they encountered camera crews or filming sets, the captain had expected the kid to be jumping around like a golden retriever. But Buck had let out a barely audible, “Oh... that's cool,” and when Chimney started joking about the miracle of them being allowed on set—considering Bobby and Eddie had insulted the show and its “star”—Buck had barely taken the time to flash the fakest, weakest smile ever before turning away, leaving the conversation.

Bobby had also noticed the absence of baked goods from Buck over the following week. He had been so proud of him for finding an alternative to contacting Tommy, trying to separate himself from that failed relationship in a healthy way. Maybe it was a bit much to actually be considered healthy, but spending overtime baking was definitely one of the less destructive coping mechanisms someone on this team had ever used.

Now, this could have meant that Buck had finally come to terms with the breakup—or even better, that he had finally realized he deserved a much better partner than Tommy had been. But Bobby knew better than to be too hopeful.

The sudden halt in Buck’s baking habit could also mean two terrible things:

He and Tommy had somehow gotten back together.

Buck’s mood had dropped so low that even baking wasn’t enough to cope.

Somehow, the hickey blatantly visible on the young man’s neck didn’t help Bobby figure out which option had won.

As Bobby prepared lunch, he couldn’t help but watch his team, hoping to see in them the same worry he felt for his kid.

Hen was focused on the video game in which she was currently beating Buck. If she was worried about him, it was well hidden behind sarcastic comments and playful shoves on the sofa.

Eddie, however… Eddie was watching Buck with a complicated expression on his face. Bobby sighed. What a terrible time to have a revelation, Diaz. (Then again, Bobby knew better than to hope that either of these two idiots would realize what they were to each other anytime soon.)

“I’m afraid we’re back to Buck 1.0, Cap,” Chimney said, coming up behind him at the counter, resigned.

“1.0?”

“Truckstealer Buck, if you prefer. It’s too bad. I think we were at least on Buck 5.0 by now. Maybe 6.0? Do you think the lightning strike caused an update?”

Bobby gripped the pan handle tighter than he should have at that unnecessary reminder.

“A hickey doesn’t mean he’s back to his former bad habits…” the captain said, uncertain of who he was trying to convince.

“Sure, no. But three hook-up dates in three days?”

Bobby didn’t answer, but his face must have said enough. Chimney sighed and shook his head.

“I know… It’s bad. He even refused to babysit Jee or come over for dinner! Buck loves seeing Jee!”

Their conversation was interrupted by the end of Hen and Buck’s game. Chimney left to set the table, grumbling about how he should have tried harder to stop Buck before he even started dating that “asshole.”

None of it was mentioned for the rest of the shift. Buck tried to act as usual, Hen managed to do so, Eddie brooded, and Chimney and Bobby exchanged concerned glances from time to time.

Bobby remembered his talks with Buck when he’d started his relationship with Abby, and later, the conversations they’d had after the Buckleys’ first visit to LA. He remembered how proud Buck had been of his personal growth��of no longer needing to be used to feel like he mattered. Bobby thought of all this and decided he couldn’t just watch Buck destroy all his progress. His kid was hurting, and Bobby was going to help him get better.

Which led the captain to be standing in front of Buck’s door.

For a second, he hesitated, realizing suddenly that he might find Buck in a compromising position, considering the frequency of the “hook-up dates” Chimney had described. Still, he knocked.

Not two minutes passed before the door opened to Buck, fully dressed (thank God) and apparently alone.

“Bobby?” Buck frowned, clearly perplexed by his captain’s presence but still stepped aside to let him in. “I’m—I’m sorry, it’s a bit of a mess right now, but, um… come in?”

As Bobby walked in, he did notice the “bit of a mess.” He wouldn’t go so far as to say the loft was unrecognizable—he had spent too much time in it after bombings, lightning strikes, and housefires not to recognize the place—but it did look like a tornado had made its way inside. Most of Buck’s baking instruments were scattered across the central island, empty flour bags and takeout boxes filling the rare voids.

The living room wasn’t much better. Dirty T-shirts and sweatshirts were lazily thrown on the chairs, and by the couch, DVDs and… Lego boxes? covered the floor.

Bobby took a determined breath and looked Buck right in the eyes. “I think we need to talk.”

Buck’s confusion turned to dread. “Is everything okay? Is Athena—”

“Athena’s fine. Everyone’s fine,” Bobby reassured. “Except you, it seems.”

“What?”

Grabbing the kid’s arm, he guided him to the table. “Stop gaping like a fish and sit, Buckley.”

Dirty sweatshirts were thrown further away, they both sat, accompanied by an awkward silence. Buck wouldn't meet Bobby's eyes, looking like a kicked puppy.

"I'm going to talk, Buck, and I would like for you to listen, to hear what I'm trying to say... Okay? This isn't a reprimand or anything like that, I'm just worried about you, kid."

At that, Buck finally raised his head, and god, those sad blue eyes could really break Bobby's heart over and over again.

"I couldn't help but notice a change in your behavior recently. You're not smiling as much as you used to, you're not baking anymore, you're avoiding your sister apparently, and visibly you've been..." The man gestured awkwardly to the hickey. "going out? Again. And that's a lot of signs indicating that you're not doing very well."

Buck just nodded, lips pinched and eyes watery. Bobby suddenly regretted choosing to have a whole table between them. He should have been holding Buck close, in such a good hug that it would shield the boy from all of his problems.

"I know from experience that when we suffer, we tend to lean on our bad habits, and we say to ourselves that it's because they're comfortable, but in truth, we go back to them because we know that they hurt us."

"Bobby..."

"And I know it might not be my place, but I'm not certain that you going out on dates with different people, and... what follows, is actually doing you any good."

In front of him, Buck had become red, stumbling on his words, embarrassed.

"I—uh—hm... Bobby, I don't—I have not been sleeping around, if that's what you're worried about."

Bobby's eyebrow lifted by itself, too skeptical considering the purple mark on the young one's neck.

"Okay, I... I had one date. Yesterday. And it didn't go further than what you can see, actually. He... He wasn't who I really wanted."

Oh, Tommy Kinnard. If punching people in the street was more accepted... How could someone voluntarly decide to break this boy's precious heart?

"Then why couldn't you see your sister and your niece? Two different times?"

"Well... I was busy...," Buck gestured to the whole flat, "sulking... as you can see."

"That's all?" Bobby asked, unconvinced.

"No..." Hesitation passed on Buck's face before he continued. "Can I say something terrible?... They're too happy. I mean, I'm glad that they are! But... I didn't think I could have survived spending time with the perfect happy family... Maddie and Chim are so happy together... They're married, and they have a wonderful daughter who's as shining as them, and... They're the reminder of everything I've just lost, you know?"

Bobby didn't know, actually. Sure, things had been going well enough between Buck and Kinnard, but to think that the kid was already projecting marriage and children with this man? Bobby had been lightyears away from imagining things were that serious between them. He should have known. Buck always went all in in his relationships. Now the captain felt terrible with how lightly they all had approached his breakup, if Buck had been grieving this entire future he had envisionned.

"Sometimes you meet someone thinking that they're the one, and it seems so perfect that the idea that they could leave you one day never crosses your mind... But sometimes they do... and it hurts. It's normal that it hurts." As Bobby talked, the young man just nodded, wiping his nose from time to time. "And you're grieving, because no matter how short it was," Buck frowned. "what you had with them was real. What matters, Buck, is that you can cherish what you had without punishing yourself for not having it anymore."

At this point, Buck was barely holding his tears, and Bobby decided that enough talking had been done. He walked around the table and wrapped his arms around the boy.

"It's too hard."

For a moment, they stayed like this, Buck holding Bobby like he was his lifeline, wetting his captain's T-shirt with his tears. Oh, Bobby wished he could take all his pain away. Until he found a way to do that, he would continue to hold him tight.

"It feels like my one real happiness was right in front of me, but it got snatched away before I could really catch it."

"It might feel like it right now, but I'm sure you will find happiness, Buck. It might just not be with Tommy."

The boy suddenly froze in his arms.

"...With who?"

[atangledfate]

Rouge normally hid alot of her feelings behind her flirtatiousness and, the current mission she was on. But sometimes it was nice to remember she was just a woman enjoying life. So what if she was honest with Amy for once, it wouldn't happen again not anytime soon. but the fact she'd lose Amy to Sonic a fact she'd always known and yet now faced with it happening she felt a bit weird. No she couldn't commit anyway, not with GUN still having a noose around her throat.

Her eyes darted to the door as it came open and Amy sported that sexy gown. It showed off just enough to be tasteful while showing enough to make anyone want to see more. It did look good, and the deep red complimented her figure very well.

" Not bad... very much the opposite of bad. Though defiantly needs some jewelry... and a touch more make up to really make it fire! but you look amazing girl! you will knock him dead on the spot! it'll be glorious! "

She said with a big smile on her face as she walked around amy pulling the dress in places and getting a good look at her.

" You and blue sure think alike don't you? i have a feeling he feels the same way. Wonder if he gets that free spirit from his parents or if its a unique annoyance all his own "

she laughed and found a bench to sit on and admire amy from while she was trying clothes on.

" Course--- gotta get some lacy underwear to go with it, you know for the future dates... "

As to Amys offer she didn't comment on it, not a yes or a no! best to keep things in the air and let the dice fall where they may. But it was a fun thought, and one she might act on later down the road.

Amy seemed to take a little pride in what was being said, the fact that Rouge was praising her for the love that she had for people like Sonic? Well it was certainly new, she normally didn’t expect compliments from the thief but…she could honestly get used to them!

But even with that in mind something still lingered in her head, even with Rouge saying her number one was always a pretty jewel…

“Well, I think that maybe even if I have my love for Sonic I can share my love with everyone! So don’t go thinking you’re not getting any!”

A slight pout from her before giving a light wink, she was definitely insinuating that she was down for anything the bat might have in mind. Her heart was too big and too filled with love for those around her to simply keep to one individual, so long as they were fine with her giving such love to others.

“Now, how do I look?”

Amy gave a soft spin of herself as she looked over the pretty evening gown that was adorned across her person. She certainly fit the bill of a movie star~

[pilonciillo]

lol didn’t think someone giving money would give me anxiety

[maddieandangel]

Had a weird Hollow Knight-related dream a couple days ago, so I decided to draw a major scene I remembered from it dgsgshf

More context will be in the tags, for those interested!

[deus-ex-mona]

pretty minor thing to think about, but i find it interesting how chapter 7 is the first chapter illustration to show chizuutan as chizuru (instead of chuutan)

like, i get it’s a flashback chapter, but we hardly got to see her as chizuru in the previous few chapters thus far… maybe we’ll get to see more of her as her true self after the hiyori fight/make up? only future chapters may tell, i guess…

[vigilskeep]

Whenever I think about your Keir I think about Bethany telling Anders he reminds her of Malcom. I’m sure that won’t ever affect Keir ever.

bethany is my favourite mage bc she never misses with that psychic damage

but really he and anders aren’t even a thing in act 1 so it’s less like “PLEASE stop comparing my crush to our father” and more like “oh fuck off i spend my entire life trying to act like our dad and one (1) mage rolls up and suddenly he’s dad??”

[britneyshakespeare]

throughout the series of drake and josh it pretty consistently implies that josh nichols is a christian (josh peck is jewish) and in the finale of the series helen (played by yvette nicole brown, not jewish[?]) is portrayed as a practicing jew

[usuallydyinginside]

"No One Mourns the Wicked" is about Glinda, not Elphaba

Okay, but hear me out. Wicked songs are so good at saying one thing and meaning something entirely different once you have more context. For instance, "I'm Not That Girl" is Elphaba singing about Glinda initially, then in Act 2 flips to Glinda singing about Elphaba. Because it turns out, Elphaba IS that girl and Glinda is not. When we meet the Wizard, he sings about how he always wanted to be a father. When you get to Act 2, you get the sad little reprise in the background music as he realizes that WHOOPS, he was one and he destroyed his only kid. "Defying Gravity" starts with "I hope you're happy" in the sarcastic sense and ends with them both using the same phrase to genuinely wish one another well.

"Thank Goodness" is set up as a cheerful engagement song where Glinda genuinely means "thank goodness for how great my life is" and ends in a place where she's insisting that she IS happy even as she realizes her engagement is a sham, her best friend is gone, and she's left with the Wizard and Madame M, who she doesn't even like.

You get the picture.

Basically, the whole musical is about subverting what you expect, starting with the base premise of "what if the Wicked Witch was the hero of the story" and digging in from there.

Honestly, I'd never paid much attention to the first song. It's a good opener, sets things up well, but it has some big competition with later songs. However, in the movie the staging and camera choices made me really notice it for the first time. Because you know what? Someone DID pay attention to that song, and you can really really tell.

For those who need a refresher, the lyrics to the chorus Glinda sings are: And Goodness knows The Wicked's lives are lonely Goodness knows The Wicked die alone It just shows when you're Wicked You're left only On your own I was always so busy noticing Glinda's grief over thinking Elphaba was genuinely dead that I failed to notice Glinda's grief over her OWN fate. The movie did such a good job with this because every time we get to the pink lines about being alone, Glinda IS alone. She is standing apart from the crowd who adores her. Standing above them. Standing at the center of a bunch of people yet still, isolated.

Because in the end, we know that Elphaba DIDN'T die alone. We know she wasn't on her own. We know her life WASN'T lonely ultimately. She had her flying monkey and animal friends. She had Fiyero.

And who does Glinda have?

Everyone, but realistically, no one. She is an ideal, not a person to most of Oz, just as much as Elphaba has become the token scapegoat. Where Elphaba is the "Wicked Witch," Glinda is "Glinda the Good Witch" - she is literally supposed to be the embodiment of goodness.

And what does Glinda have at the end of this whole thing (as of this song at least)? A disastrous end to her engagement, the death of her best friend, a sorceress who has hated her, demeaned her, and dismissed her from the start, and a con man who is also just a symbol more than a person.

I think it really hit me when Glinda throws the fire on the giant effigy of Elphaba. Ariana's acting was SO good there, because I'd expected us to see that private moment of horror or regret. What I didn't expect was the sort of determined and almost angry glare at the effigy.

But it makes sense. At this point, Glinda has realized that she lost everything and everyone she actually cared about.

As she so aptly puts it in "Thank Goodness"...

Though it is, I admit The tiniest bit Unlike I anticipated. But I couldn't be happier, Simply couldn't be happier, Well, not "simply" 'Cause getting your dreams It's strange, but it seems A little, well, complicated.

There's a kind of a sort of cost. There's a couple of things get lost. There are bridges you cross You didn't know you crossed Until you've crossed!

And if that joy, that thrill Doesn't thrill like you think it will Still-- With this perfect finale, The cheers and the ballyhoo! Who wouldn't be happier? So I couldn't be happier, Because happy is what happens When all your dreams come true.

Well, isn't it?

Happy is what happens when you're dreams come true.

It's not Elphaba's fault that Glinda has ended up this way. Glinda chose it every step of the way. Yet, if Glinda had never met Elphaba, (if she'd never known her, you could say), she might have stayed shallow and vain. She might never have been challenged to look deeper and realize how empty it all felt.

So as Glinda sings "No One Mourns the Wicked," she realizes that even if the Munchkins are singing about the "Wicked Witch," she's not.

She's singing about herself.

The one who traded her morals, friendship, and love for a taste of the admiration and power over those who don't really know her. The one who was so worried about being likable that she herself doesn't like who she's become.

Even after she makes things better for Oz and herself by sending the wizard away and getting rid of Madame M, it just leaves Glinda by herself as the leader and source of goodness in Oz. It leaves her on a pedestal she can never step off of.

It leaves her lonely.

Entirely alone.

[pastel-peach-writes]

Hii, i just read all and i mean ALL of ur fics, but i saw you wrote for arcane women and was wondering if you could write headcanons abt them with a socially awkward/anxious reader?? If not thats A-Ok 👌 with me

Sure! How is everyone doing after the first three eps? I still haven't seen it but the edits I've seen... oh boy.

"I Got You." | Arcane Ladies Headcanons

╰┈➤ PLOT: How the ladies of Arcane(Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, Mel) act with a socially awkward and/or anxious partner

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Spoiler Free, On The Shorter Side, Cursing, Not Proofread

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

JINX

– At first, Jinx didn't get that you were socially awkward. She was used to people being awkward or even scared around her so she thought it was the same case with you until you two got closer.

– After knowing that your awkwardness was just you and not your fear of her, she observed you in social situations and noted what made you more anxious than normal.

– For example, she noticed you're more anxious and timid in bigger, louder spaces but if a space was quiet and quaint, you would be just fine so she often took you to quiet places for dates.

– If Jinx notices you're anxious in places you typically aren't, without a doubt she's removing you from the situation and taking you home where you can relax. No words, just grabs and tugs.

– She's tried the pep talk route before but it ended up in her rambling and somehow planning a terrorist scheme aloud... (yeah, a few patrons quickly left the area after hearing that), so she decided to scrap that idea altogether.

– At home though she would prepare what she calls, "A Safety Nest". It was a place in your shared space that had all your favorite things and trinkets, and she usually kept the space dimly lit and played your favorite music to calm you down.

– In social interactions where you take the lead in conversation, Jinx would quietly encourage you with big, almost alarming smiles and "gentle" pats on your back. Let's face it, Jinx can be socially awkward herself.

– Once the conversation concludes, she'll jump on you proudly, ruffle up your clothing, and pinch your cheeks endearingly all while calling you weird nicknames and quoting what you said while mimicking your tone and cadence.

––

VI

– Before you've had your first real conversation together, Vi could sense that you were an anxious individual.

– You fidgeted with your body while speaking, didn't hold eye contact long, and used a decent amount of filler words to casualize your sentences.

– She thought it was endearing to watch you act and move as if you thought no one truly cared about what you were saying or were afraid of boring others but you never bored her. She didn't think it was possible.

– You had tells and quips that revealed themselves with each conversation you two had. You showed more and more of your personality the more you got comfortable with her too. Vi loved it.

– When you spoke to her, especially when you went on tangents about things you were interested in, she always showed signs of active listening by nodding and asking follow-up questions. Even days later, she'll bring up the topic again to see if you have any updates.

– She made you feel seen and heard, something you've subconsciously craved. And when you went on your worry rambles, she consoled you and tried her best to stop you from spiraling.

– You thought about a lot of things and oftentimes about things no one else thought about. Vi thought your brain must've been exhausted with all the worries, doubts, and judgments that were usually wrapped up as others' but were truly your own; it was a lot for one person to handle so she strove to let you know that you were not alone.

– Is there a night you can't sleep because of your racing mind? Vi is there, holding you or reassuring you that everything is going to be okay. She can't sleep until you do anyway so why not speed the process along?

– You often had yourself stuck with your head stressing and worrying about multiple things at once and Vi was always there to bring you down to Earth.

__

CAITLYN

– Caitlyn's an encourager and a comforter with you.

– She's patient and silently allows you to take your time when gathering your thoughts midconversation but she'll also be the one to say, "It's okay, take your time," in the sweetest way possible.

– If there's an instance when you two are out and about and you really want something but are too scared to get it, she'll spring into action and get that thing for you. (Even if it was just a napkin).

– The only time she's frazzled socially is when you both are in an unfamiliar area and need to ask for directions. She'll stumble over her words and try to get someone's attention but they're moving too fast to hear her soft words.

– She'll get frustrated and you end up comforting her, but after a few backrubs, she's ready to try again. Her voice is strong and powerful, and people have no problem hearing her.

– You secretly thank whomever you have to for her determination but there was no way in hell you were going to walk up to a stranger and ask for directions like a tourist... which you were.

– Since Caitlyn's job has her socializing with a lot of people, she can get burnt out easily. Especially if work hasn't been going her way lately but even if she's burnt out and tired, if you seem to be more awkward or anxious than her, she's more than happy to step up socially.

– When you both have someplace to attend to or some event that holds significance, Caitlyn will not hesitate to stage a "social rehearsal" with you. She'll make flashcards of topics you could bring up, you'll both dress accordingly for the event in her living room, and she'll pretend to be an assortment of people so you can get used to different personalities all at once.

– It may seem like this is all for you, but honestly it helps her too. Sometimes she misses the personal cues of conversation leading the other to think she's a black-and-white thinking who has no time for pleasanties. Not true! She's very pleasant... sometimes she's just shy.

– Shyness is not a crime!

– After talking with the host and a few others she has to talk to due to her job, her social battery is depleted. She's extremely thankful you're able to recognize this and suggest leaving early. What would you two do without each other?

––

SEVIKA

– Oh, man. This lady found your awkwardness charming as hell.

– Your awkwardness was different than all the nerds and scaly-beings she's forced to be around. You were cute, looked perfect sitting next to her, and your awkwardness, as mentioned before, had a certain charming quality she can't quite place.

– She'll see you in your workplace trying to make casual conversation or small talk but none of your topics seemed to be landing. Your coworkers would give you a thin pressed-lips smile that she wanted to strike off of them to your attempts and then scoff at you behind your back.

– You were authentically yourself and those bastards didn't know what to do with it. They were scared, not her though.

– When you two got closer and comfortable enough with each other that you could tease one another or make playful jabs at the other's expense, no doubt she would tease you about your awkwardness.

– With those gorgeous eyes of yours, you would look everywhere else but her own, prompting her to say, "You know you can look me in the eyes, right? I won't bite", with the stupidest most shit-eating smirk on her face. And then when you look at her, a bit shocked and playfully annoyed, her smirk would only grow. "Unless you want me to."

– Sevika never made your awkwardness seem like a flaw. Your awkwardness came with you and she wanted all of you so she often encouraged your awkwardness.

– If she caught you trying to "reel" it in or realizing that you've talked for a few seconds too long, she'll playfully scold you and tell you to continue or to "let it out". Y'know. As someone who seethes dominance does.

– There would be an instance in which you go to Sevika asking for advice to be "less awkward" and her only response would be, "Why? I like your awkwardness, you don't need to change it. Anyone else who thinks otherwise is a sad loser and don't deserve to be in your life anyways."

– like damnnnn, okay!

– Safe to say you never asked her a question like that again.

--

MEL

– Mel understands your worries about what others think and the awkwardness that can come with it so she likes to help you in any way she can.

– If you're stressed about a council meeting and afraid of what everyone's going to think about the new perspective you'd like to bring to the table, she'll reassure you and tell you she's right by your side.

– If she can't physically with her hand on the small of your back, she give you nods of encouragement, raise her brows proudly, and look at you with that sense of pride and admiration in her golden eyes.

– After the meeting goes well, which she knew would, she'll congratulate you with your favorite drink and a night in doing all your favorite things.

– Even if there were parts in the meeting that were rocky, like the council people asking questions you weren't prepared for or getting rowdy, she'll say you did an excellent job and what you presented will help the people of Piltover.

– Oh, and don't think for a second that she wasn't sending glares and daggers to those who stirred up your anxiety even more. If looks could kill.

– Mel sees that sometimes your awkwardness and anxiety result in people-pleasing and she would shut that down real quick. She's fallen into that dangerous pool before and knows how hard it feels when you disappoint others and how much harder it is to get out of that mindset.

– She can get quite spirited with her encouragement...

– "Well, if they don't like it, that's on them! They don't know something good when they see it." "I've learned that hard way that you can't please everyone. You might as well say what you have to now. They can get over themselves later."

– It's actually quite attractive to see her stand up for you, even if she was standing up for the possibility.

– Always keeping her words in your mind, you find yourself navigating through life easier and you only have her to thank.

WC: 1,705

[toast-on-dandelioms]

🕷️Just Another Neglected Story🕷️

[previous] - Part 4.1 - [next]

Any names that you find familiar, in this part, were taken (with permission) from the fanart made by @the-broken-truth, while some changes like description of what's happening were made by me then modified by my beta reader, my bbg, Jamie.

tw: Joker, angst/no comfort, small description of injuries, small description/mention of a panic attack (I am unsure if it was that, please tell me if I am wrong).

Weeks passed with you still being Spider and a 'normal' teenager at the same time. But some changes and new things happened in these weeks.

You got visited by Superman almost daily, or nightly since he always visited when you were patrolling at night. You never questioned how he knew where to find you, you didn't want to think about it and just let him follow you during your nightly patrols.

He also helped you train while using all of your strength because you usually held back in fear of hurting people, so his tips helped a lot  considering that he also had the same problem before.

Furthermore, now that you started to help with small problems around Gotham, like small thefts and gang problems, those problems started to slowly stop, giving you more time to train with Superman and help around the community.

You still didn't join the Bats or even the Justice League whenever Superman tried to propose it, you just didn't want to fight big shots like Joker or other super villains.

You liked doing small things and loved seeing the change it brought from you helping.

Just defeating super villains won't reward you with a pie from the nice old lady after helping her move her things in the apartment and give her groceries if she can't go to the supermarket, or getting drawings of little kids after you help them go home safely.

You also scored candies whenever the moms had them, which made you incredibly happy because they always had the candies you loved. 

So you were happy, especially since Alfred never mentioned your breakdown after that night and kept on the usual routine of leaving your food on the desk in your room so you wouldn't have to come down to the kitchen.

You did notice him acting a bit weird but you pushed those thoughts aside since you didn't really notice anything weird happening around the Manor so you thought he was just nervous for something Bruce did.

You gave him too much trust and sooner than later you will regret doing that.

But something did change around the Manor, you just didn't notice because you started to walk on the ceiling, without shoes or Alfred would kill you, to avoid annoying encounters with anyone in the house, even if listening to music while on the ceiling was a bit difficult but you’re managing.

Well, Alfred knew that if he walked to Bruce and told him about you and what you felt he would've been ignored, especially since Bruce barely remembers that you even exist in the Manor and that you're a member of the family.

And even if Bruce did remember that you exist he would be annoyed, especially since he clearly hated your mother and was only paying the child support because he had to, especially since your mother threatened to take him to court if he wouldn't pay when he first got the news.

Talking to any of the batkids would've also been useless, because he also knew that no one in the Manor remembers you, especially now that you could walk on walls no one could even see you.

He couldn't count how many times he almost got a heart attack whenever he could see you on the ceiling, just hanging out or doing your homework, even though he still didn't understand how you could work without gravity making everything fall.

So he decided to do it in small steps, starting with leaving photos of you around the house in places where everyone sees them.

He put almost every picture that he owns of you, like you at a dance recital as the lead dancer or you at a science fair to which you won first place with an invention of yours.

One thing Alfred knew by putting your photos was that every person would notice how in all your photos you were alone and how your face never showed any emotion.

He knew it was small but he couldn't wait anymore, he needed to take action now or before you decided to leave for the Kent family, he couldn't let you go after he heard you talk about Clark and Conner while he made food in the kitchen.

He just hoped it wasn't too late for you, especially with your break down. He hoped you could still let someone in after all these years of being alone.

He did try his best but he was only a butler and he couldn't change someone's view of another person if that view was filled with hatred.

And you never noticed thanks to your walking on the ceiling or walls, moreover, you couldn't care less if they actually noticed you now. You were finally moving on and having a new start thanks to Spider.

But now it's not the time to think of Alfred's attempt of getting you acknowledged by the family, you were getting busier thanks to all the work as Spider, school and also dance classes.

You also kept on using yourself as a test subject, just to check the process of the spider DNA that's now in your DNA and seeing if anything changed or you had some mysterious new powers, taking videos to record the process of your evolution with the now Spider DNA in your body.

One thing you acquired after a while was invisibility, or camouflage as you called it since invisibility sounded magical and you didn't want it to sound like you were a kid.

How you found out you could use it was not a good experience.

You were in the kitchen with Alfred, just hanging out with him while he cooked when Damian suddenly entered the room to ask Alfred for some food for a new pet that he adopted.

In your panic at the sheer thought of Damian seeing you and hurting you like he did in the past made you freeze up, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes that he would just disappear from existence. Praying to every god you could recall that Damian wouldn't find you, you tried to not breathe too loudly so he wouldn’t hear you.

After a few minutes of paranoia passed and you didn't hear anything around you, you slowly opened your eyes and saw Damian still waiting for Alfred to give him the food for a cat he adopted and completely ignoring you.

You were still scared he would see you so you stayed silent and waited patiently, albeit apprehensively, for him to go away before actually making a sound, which was a loud sigh of restrained relief as air poured back into your lungs. Somehow you hadn't noticed that you'd been holding your breath the whole time. Strange.

You slowly got down from the counter you were sitting on and walked up to Alfred, confused as to why the old man wasn't looking at you and instead was looking at the ceiling before softly calling out his name.

You got even more confused and slightly worried when he got scared since you were standing right in front of him but he, for some reason, couldn't see you.

After a bit of Alfred trying to explain that he couldn't actually see you and you not understanding why, you finally managed to make yourself visible.

You quickly went to work at the corporation to take a few tests to see what happened and didn't see anything with those tests but after a few days of trying to understand what happened and how you could make it happen again, you managed to go invisible on command.

It took a bit but you managed to do it, which got extremely useful to sneak into the kitchen when you need to get some snacks in the middle of the night so that Alfred doesn't catch you on the wall eating chips at 3 am.

Plus thanks to that time you found out that your eyes glow in the dark, which was a bit weird since the spider that bit you wasn't a bioluminescent one but you figured it was your own DNA that changed some things.

In the time following that discovery and training with Clark, you slowly started to join him in solo missions for the Justice League, but made sure to tell him that you didn't want to partner up with another person except him.

And you made sure that he knew you weren't an official member of the Justice League or of the Young Justice League, you just joined him so you wouldn't get rusty since Gotham is still filled with crime but fighting with teens or men who just swing a crowbar or knife is not really challenging.

You didn't want anyone except Clark to join those solo missions, not because you were scared of hurting another person since you learned to control your strength thanks to him and got pretty good with your spider senses.

You just hated being around people you didn't know or trust, especially if they were a member of the Wayne family, you absolutely detested them.

You refused to look at them and especially talk to them even though you had the voice modulator.

One of the many reasons you used the voice modulator was to not get recognised but also because you hated your own voice and the voice modulator helped when talking to lost kids or just kids in general.

You never told anyone why you hate your voice, you just refused to talk one day and learned asl to communicate with people and also used notes if people didn't know asl.

The mask was like a hearing aid, it changed your voice and helped you use it more so you could talk sometimes.

As time passed, the birdies (basically all of Bruce's kids, you just called them all bird to show how much you didn't care about them) kept on trying to talk to you and showing up where you were when you were patrolling.

You had a list of most annoying to less annoying since you couldn't really do much about them, especially since Clark forbade you to throw another one of them off a roof if they got too close to your liking or just breathed wrong.

They never sustained grave injuries since you always threw them to another building or a dumpster, or to Superman if he was around.

Most of the time in a dumpster to make yourself smile since you would take a photo then swing away before they could do anything, but they started to pose whenever you would take a photo, making you annoyed and ruining your fun.

The most annoying was Dick, with how persistent he was even if he was stuck on a wall thanks to your webs when he got too close or made you uncomfortable by continuing to call you nicknames that he would use with Damian and Tim.

You hated how he would just laugh and call you his little sibling, especially since he would never call you that if you didn't have a mask on and you felt that it was unfair that he suddenly cared about you just because of the mask.

It made you feel like you were getting ignored and forgotten once again but this time to a version of you that he likes while the one behind the mask is always getting ignored.

Just like at the Manor, the real you will never be appreciated and accepted with love.

The second most annoying in the list is Tim, it was gonna be Damian but Tim took second place with how creepy he is around you and how he knows too much of what you do.

Like, you knew he's the one who knows everything about every hero and villain since you saw him work on the bat-computer while you were stealing a few grappling hooks for your web shooters since they broke. (You were invisible and you got lucky that Cassandra wasn't there or she would've found you immediately.)

But seeing him open a folder and watching how many videos and photos he has of you in the bat-computer, like when you were fighting some gang members or when you were helping some nice old lady crossing the street.

If anyone else showed you their collection of you doing badass or just normal stuff while you were a vigilante then you would've felt impressed and very honored because you never thought someone would actually go out their way to be a fan of you.

But seeing Tim, someone you still had some respect for, having so many files, especially from when you first started and hit so many walls while swinging around made you weirded out and somehow violated, especially with how concentrated he was while staring at the videos.

Seeing that folder and all the information he had on you made you lose all the respect you still had for the boy.

Another thing he did was that, whenever you met him while patrolling or eating a few hot dogs with your favorite guy, he would always talk of things you did like he was there and creeped you out so much that you had to restrain yourself from throwing him off a roof or wherever you two were.

Most of the time you just tased him and went your way, paying the hotdog guy a little extra so he wouldn't stop selling you hot dogs.

You're also starting to think that hot dog guy is using you for the tips since you always tip him 50$ or more to stay silent and let you grab more hot dogs from him.

Third annoying but still so annoying that you want to punch his face is Damian. Mostly because he treats you like you're his older sibling.

Like he respects you and looks up to you. But you knew it was because of the mask since you also knew that if you ever took off the mask in front of him he would try to kill you.

You have to be supervised by Clark and even Jon since your only solution to get rid of Damian when he’s around you is throwing him off a roof without worrying about not using your super strength.

You hated the kid and didn't really hide it but he never said anything about it since he thought you two were bonding and you acting like you hate him is normal.

You wanted to tase him when he dared to call you his older sibling in Arabic, hating the look on his face that had so much adoration and admiration for you since it actually made him look like a normal teen.

(You learned some Arabic to get close to Damian when you found out where he was from when you were young)

Like he didn't create so many scars on your arms and legs with his sword and those batarangs. Like he didn’t make you so afraid of the Manor that Alfred had to assure you that he wouldn’t hurt you or you would get a panic attack by getting near the Manor.

Least annoying but still annoying is Jason Todd. You hate that mask he wears because you can't see his face and know what he’s really thinking about, and especially how he acts like you two are two old friends who meet up everyday.

You hate how he pats you on the head when you're distracted, since the spider sense doesn't really deem him a threat for you, and manages to evade your attempts to kick him away or throw him off a roof, laughing whenever you try to do so.

Like you two were just playing and you weren't angry at him and wanting to throw something at him but couldn't.

So your one solution was ignoring him and walking to the side of the building so he wouldn't reach you since he couldn't walk on walls like you.

Which did make you smug whenever he complained about it on the roof of the same building, finding it funny when he acted all offended when he understood you were smug by how you were acting even if your mask didn’t show your face.

Yea you and Jason did get along sometimes, most of the time if you were having a nice day and if he was the first one you would meet of the birds.

You had a decent relationship with Jason, yes you did have fun sometimes but you wouldn't call him a friend or even your brother.

Plus you never forgot about the years he would ignore you and especially when he punched you in the eye and didn't even apologize decently.

Or how he would complain about how terrible of a father Bruce is, or how annoying Dick is to anyone else while you would just stand there, completely ignored since he was probably talking to someone else or to himself.

And acted like he was the only one who's life was 'ruined' when Bruce got in his life when he's still loved even after everything he's done.

Even though he's still remembered every Christmas and given big gifts that means that the person who bought them thought of him, and birthday while no one even remembered you had a birthday and you always celebrated it with a cupcake or some friends.

So you preferred to ignore him or you would punch his skull if he tried to complain one more time about Batman and his death.

Not like Cassandra, Duke and Stephanie were any better.

Cassandra was annoying because of how silent she was. You always managed to see her but you knew she wanted you to see her.

Plus, 'hanging out' with her was just you doing your usual stuff while she followed since you couldn't push her away like the others.

And fighting wasn't in the option since she could kick your ass with just a hand and without moving, so you just ignored her, even though your spider sense was always going crazy when she was around since she was a walking threat.

Even five minutes with her would give you the worst headaches that you had to ask her to stand very far or you wouldn't be able to even walk around without wanting to puke.

You hated her because she was taken in by Bruce like you but instead of being hated because of her upbringing, she got accepted with open arms and he always loved her.

What did she have that you didn't?! Why does she get all the attention and love you always wished for while you're getting forgotten and hated?!

You saw her getting accepted, getting all the love you always wished for, seeing your father going to her dance recitals while he didn't even bother to even acknowledge that you do the same sport as her but in a different and smaller dance studio since you couldn't afford to go to the one Cassandra goes because of how expensive even one lesson was.

Stephanie was another person you hated. You knew of her past, you used the bat-computer whenever no one was in the batcave when you managed to control the invisibility.

You knew about what her dad did. You understood her reasoning to become a vigilante. You didn't hate her for her past, god you didn't even care who her father was.

You just hated her because of how loved she was by everyone. She was like Cassandra but once again, all the love was going towards the two and it never even touched you.

You did try to bond with her when you arrived at the Manor but she did look like she wanted to be everywhere but not with you.

Even when you only talked about things you knew she loved, it still wasn't enough for her. She still avoided you and preferred to spend time with either Barbara, Dick or Tim.

And after a bit you gave up and let her live her life without you in her way since she clearly didn't care about you.

The worst part was that everyone prefers Spider than you, since she also keeps trying to hang out with you when you're patrolling or spending time with kids and teens.

Or getting beat during a game of basketball since you sucked at that game and the teens you played with would tease you which made you laugh since you liked spending time with people the same age as you.

But it would be ruined when she would show up, wanting to play too even though she would just play with you and make it obvious she wanted to make you win.

Which ruined the game entirely for you and always made you leave after a bit with the excuse of being busy as a vigilante, which made the teens and also Stephanie confused.

Duke was the only one of them that you knew tried to hang out with you when you weren't Spider. That's why he was one of the ones you hang out with most if he came to see you while you were patrolling.

He came when you were almost 15, you didn't remember how old you were but you knew he was one of the ones who actually paid attention to you.

But after a while, all his duties as Signal, as a high schooler and as one of Bruce's kids made him too busy for him to spend time with you, to which he explained whenever he was late for something you two planned to do.

And you understood, you cheered for him from the back and always smiled at him whenever he was with you as Signal, even if he couldn't see it. And he did tell you the best places to get food during patrols so you liked him for that, but you remained loyal to the hot dog guy.

But then there was Bruce, acting like he was the savior from his kids that kept annoying you even though he wasn't any better than any of his kids, he was one of the worst in terms of how annoying he was.

He was starting to compete with Dick for the first spot on your list, which you didn't like since you just wanted to be alone, or with Duke and Jason.

Like he would keep on calling you kid and other nicknames you heard him give to his sons over the years, which made you sick because it reminded you of when you were little and that your biggest wish was to also get a nickname like your brothers and sisters and spend time with him as your father even if he never paid any actual attention to you.

But what you hated most was how he always smiled softly at you, even when you tried to kick him away and he would just grab your ankle like it was nothing, like you were his favorite child. Like he didn't tell you that he would never be a father to you when you gave him a father's day card when you were 12 and trying to bond with him.

Looking at you with so much love and adoration, making you disgusted since he was the same man who once looked at you with disgust and hatred just for entering his office because you needed his signature for something.

The same man who clearly told you to not expect him to treat you like his child since you weren't. You were just an annoying kid who had to come to his house since no one else wanted to take you in.

You wanted to puke whenever he looked with love, refusing to forget about everything he did just because you were a child of someone he hated.

You understood why Bruce hated your mother, you couldn't force everyone to like what you like, but you still didn't understand why he had to ruin your life by keeping you with him.

He could have sent you to a foster home, he could have sent you to boarding school all your life so he could never see the face of the one he hates. But he didn't.

No, he decided to accept you in his home and ruined your life, making you miserable by keeping you there and then basically neglecting you and forgetting you even exist.

You wanted to puke whenever he looked at you with love when you were Spider, you had to take so many showers and had to scrub your skin so hard it turned red by how hard you tried to wash away his touch whenever he managed to actually touch you on either the shoulders or head.

You found comfort in Clark since he never forced you to interact with the Robins and Batman and understood why you hated them since you explained to him who you were but didn't tell him everything.

He did annoy you whenever he tried to suggest you to come with him to Metropolis even after you explained that you couldn't just move to another city right in the middle of the school year.

Moreover you were still a minor and you would need Bruce's consent, which you refused to ask since you refused to acknowledge that he was supposed to be your legal guardian.

Plus you always had fun with his kids when they were around since they would throw you in the air and catch you, making you laugh like crazy since their throw was like making you fly for like 2 minutes before catching you.

Conner was more fun to be around because he understood what you were going through since he also had problems with Superman when the kryptonian refused to accept the clone as his son.

Plus he always made the best jokes and made you laugh whenever you would have a bad day after seeing your legal guardian and his kids having a fun outing together while you were at the Manor since they didn't even remember you existed.

Or when you had a bad dance practice and almost destroyed your pointe shoes with your strength because you thought you weren't good enough to be a ballet dancer which spiraled to thinking that because of you not being good at dancing then you weren't good enough to be recognised by your legal guardian and his family.

He was more like an older brother than Dick, Jason and Tim ever were for you. And you didn't even care, you loved him as a brother and loved hanging out with him.

Jon was nice but he was also friends with Damian and you didn't really spend that much time with him because of that. You were scared Damian would be with him and you didn't want to see the evil spawn.

But the times you did hang out with him were nice, he always brought cake that his grandparents made and shared it with you while you listened to him talk about whatever he wanted.

He was fun and very nice but you weren't used to hanging around a small teen who actually wanted to be with you and actively seeked you out for your attention.

You were more used to a small teen who would glare at you and attack you if you dared do anything, even just breathing in his direction, the scars on your arms and back proved that.

But you never said anything to Jon about what his best friend did to you, you didn't want Jon to feel like he had to choose between two sides.

And you knew he would choose Damian's side, no one ever chose your side. You knew no one would even dare to be by your side.

Well after a while of going to missions with Clark and him letting you do most of the work as training with his close by to make sure you wouldn't get hurt, you were finally going on a relatively simple mission with Conner and unfortunately with Jason.

You knew Conner didn't want him there but he probably got Batman to convince Clark and him, so you didn't say anything to him about Jason being there and just stayed by his side while you were in the small ship.

The whole ride was spent in silence, only stopped whenever Conner would check the coordinates or by the sound of you fixing the web shooters to make sure they wouldn't go haywire when you were fighting.

You finally landed in the spot where you were supposed to start your mission, near the villain's lair, if you could call it that since it was an unused bunker a group of cultists found and are now living there, which made you get down eagerly since you wanted to finally do a mission without Clark's supervision.

But your excitement immediately died when you saw Stephanie waiting for you there, making you let out a loud string of curses.

And yes, you did ignore the message on your phone from Clark that said 'language' and just walked past Stephanie and Jason, just wanting to get the mission done and go home with Conner.

Plus he did promise you his grandmother's best pie if you finished the mission and you could not pass up the opportunity of getting another slice of that delicious pie.

As you walked up to the lair with Conner, you patted him on the back before standing in front of the door as Stephanie tried to open it by picking the lock. You waited exactly 10 seconds for Stephanie to unlock the door before pushing her away, kicking the door down with your strength since she was taking too long for your liking.

You didn't even care if they were watching, you just glared at them all in silence for a few seconds before they were able to hear you say.

"Stay here and you two don't follow me, Conner don't try anything or I will tell Clark"

Then, right in front of them you became invisible before walking off, the only sound they could hear were of your sneakers walking down the metallic stairs.

(Switch Pov to Stephanie)

Stephanie knew she wasn't the best person. She knew of her father's evil doings and she knew she wasn't the best Robin or the best vigilante.

But when she saw Spider, she thought that they were perfect. They were always helping people and never too busy for everyone.

She, at first, didn't even know who Spider is because of how busy she was with her life and her vigilante job. But when she saw Tim researching them, she was amazed.

She knew there were other vigilantes in the city, it was a big city but she didn't know about a vigilante who didn't fight big villains like the others.

She saw Spider helping old ladies, stopping small gangs from forming by helping the teens and just being an image for the people to rely on.

She knew Bruce stopped high grade villains like Joker or others but Spider, Spider was different.

They didn't fight Joker, no they just fought the criminals who would bother people that couldn't do anything to stop them.

She admired the vigilante and wanted to be friends with them, maybe one day she could convince them to join her and her family at the Manor.

But what she didn't understand even though she craved to know was why they hated her. Why they hated her and the rest of her family.

She tried so much, she craved their validation so much that she trained so hard and tried so many times to interact with them.

But she would keep on getting ignored or she wouldn't be able to follow them by the speed of them swinging or when they walk on walls to avoid her.

She cried so many nights at the thought of her idol, the one person she wanted, no craved validation would hate her so much when she can't even remember or know why they hate her so much.

But when she heard of Jason joining Spider for their first mission, she was so jealous that she used the bat-computer to check where Spider's mission was supposed to be and followed them in another ship.

She wanted to show to her idol how brave she was, so maybe they will praise her and laugh like when they're with Conner, Clark and Jon.

Plus she wanted to wipe Jason's smirk off his face since he kept on bragging about going to a mission with Spider for days and how he was the favorite since compared to the rest of them, he was the one who Spider stayed the longest before leaving or throwing him off the roof.

But all her excitement and hope died the minute she heard Spider curse when they saw her, her head slowly lowering as she tried not to cry.

And when Spider told them to stay there, god she wanted to protest but strangely Jason held her back and just told her to hack in the security system to watch Spider with the cameras.

She didn't understand why she couldn't follow Spider to help them but did as Jason told her to, watching all the cameras with him and seeing henchmen getting knocked out or tased by Spider even though they weren't visible.

Plus she found it hilarious when a goon got knocked out by a flying metal tray and the others just stood there confused before also getting knocked out by a taser or a punch then getting tied up on a wall or floor.

As she watched the security feed, she noticed that Spider entered the boss's sanctuary, filled with small and useless artifacts that the Justice League used to trace the villain so they could capture him and stop him before he tried to grow his cult or summon some demon.

She kept watching and trying to find a camera inside the sanctuary, starting to get annoyed and also panicking a little because if she couldn't see anything in the sanctuary then she couldn't call for backup if something went wrong, especially by how far Spider was, and even if they were going to help them, it would take too long.

She kept on switching cameras and trying to hack into anything that was electronic, getting more frustrated as time passed since she could see the villain approaching the sanctuary with someone next to him, making her confused since he wasn't supposed to have partners that helped him.

She managed to switch a camera in time to see Joker next to the villain, the blood in her face draining as she stared at the clown on her screen in silence, her eyes wide like bugs and no sound could be heard from all three of the teens.

She went back to where Spider was and noticed a camera was on, to which Stephanie immediately tried to warn them by moving the camera a bit but it was too late and both villains entered the sanctuary and closed the door so Spider wouldn't be able to leave without getting noticed by the cultist and the clown.

She watched the feed without moving any part of her body in terror that if she even moved then the two villains would notice Spider and do something horrible to them.

She gasped when she saw Joker suddenly pulling out a gun and pointing it at where Spider was supposed to be, not managing to hear what he was saying since the cameras were old and didn't register any sounds, plus his psycho-smile made it difficult for her to read his lips so she couldn't even use that to her advantage.

As Stephanie kept watching, not noticing that she was holding her breath by how focused she was on Joker then cursed loudly when she saw the screen turn black, throwing the tablet in anger as she got up, making signs for Jason and Conner to follow as she ran into the lair.

She quickly jumped over any henchmen on the ground, needing to get to Spider immediately and save them.

She had to help. She had to stop that psychopath from hurting them. She needed to protect them.

As she ran, her vision was starting to get blurry by the tears threatening to fall as she ran. As she ran, she suddenly got blocked by the metal door that was blocking her from saving Spider.

She immediately called Conner, wanting to use his strength to open the door but unfortunately he couldn't even throw a decent punch that could leave a dent on it.

Even after a few tries Conner didn't do anything so she started to try to open it by using the panel next to the door, her frustration already growing by how useless he was.

So Stephanie sent Conner outside to call Superman and Batman while she and Jason tried to open the door as they waited for the two heroes to arrive.

As the three of them waited for Batman and Superman to come, Jason and Stephanie saw something coming out the door that made their blood cold.

Some form of gas kept on coming out the door and the only thing they were able to hear were some noises of something or someone getting hit and coughing.

Stephanie did smell the gas, trying to pinpoint what the gas was but she couldn't recognise it since the only thing she could detect was that it had a sweet smell, which was nothing like all the gasses she ever smelled before.

The only thing she knew is that the gas wasn't the usual gas Joker uses on his victims since she wasn't laughing or having a maniacal smile but she still couldn't pinpoint what the gas was.

Stephanie stayed silent, trying not to show how terrified she was while Jason was trying to kick down the door while yelling curses directed at Joker.

Conner was outside the lair to use the ship and communicate with Batman and Superman, knowing they were both on different missions and he couldn't fly to both of them to ask for help, especially since he found out that he couldn't even fly, making him even more desperate for them to come.

As they waited Stephanie tried to make Jason stop punching the door when she saw his knuckles bleed, not wanting another one of her siblings get hurt because of her incompetence before looking at the door.

The blood drained from her face, her knees giving up on her and making her fall to the ground as she heard a scream, the cold metal floor the only thing she could feel at the moment.

She knew the scream couldn't be of Joker. He heard him yell before and this scream wasn't his. She hoped for every god as she tried to hack the panel of the door, even though she already tried before, with a bit of difficulty, her vision starting to blur as tears started to fall and her hands trembling as she was trying to ignore the multiple screams she kept hearing.

She couldn't let Spider get hurt, she should've been there to help them. They didn't deserve the pain and hurt she and almost all of the Robins went through because of Joker.

She stopped when she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder, the realization that she was just messing up the wires and making it even more difficult for the door to be opened when she looked at her hands tangled in between the wires.

She looked up at the man and visibly relaxed, completely giving out on the floor as Jason helped her by cutting the wires tangled in her hands while Batman examined what was happening as Conner explained what he knew, Superman next to him and waiting for Batman to give orders since he knew that if he acted irrationally then Spider would be in danger.

(Switch to Bruce's POV)

Bruce knew he wasn't a good person and a hero like Clark and Diana, that's why he called himself a vigilante since heroes save people and stop criminals but he couldn't save everyone.

Sometimes he was too late and he couldn't save someone innocent that unfortunately crossed ways with a villain or a gang.

Another thing Bruce knew was that he wasn't the best father because he let his kids get hurt by going on patrols with him as a vigilante, not thinking about what could happen to them if they fought someone too strong or if he suddenly decided to make them stop being a vigilante by saying that it was to protect them, which made everyone sneak out to be a vigilante.

He had to bury his children too early because of vigilantism and couldn't help his son when he was being trained by the League of Assassins.

But when he saw Spider for the first time, seeing a child that looked no older than 14, maybe 15, made him think that maybe, maybe he could help this one become the best version of themselves.

And if he was good enough, he could be a father again and get another child saved from the darkness and evil that surrounds Gotham.

Even if the only evil Spider saw was him and his family.

One thing he hated was that he couldn't understand why Spider absolutely loathed him and everyone of the vigilantes who live or have lived under his roof.

He couldn't understand why and even after checking every mission he ever did that included helping kids/teens in Gotham, nothing gave him a lead as to why Spider hated him.

And the worst thing was that Spider decided, out of all the heroes and vigilantes in the world, and especially in the Justice League, to trust and get close to Clark.

To Clark! His enemy! He was supposed to be the one teaching Spider to control their strength! He was supposed to be the one laughing with them while eating hot dogs and sharing funny stories of stupid people they say during patrol.

(He knows about it thanks to a small camera he put on Clark’s costume after he found out that he and Spider got close)

He didn't trust letting them go on a mission even if Clark told him that they could and that they were ready.

He thought it was too early and that they weren't trained to fight villains like he and the others fight everyday, especially with Conner since he wasn't perfectly trained so he managed to convince Clark, with much manipulation and guilt tripping, to let Jason come with them if there was trouble.

He didn't know Stephanie would also be there, especially since he didn't talk about it in the batcave about the mission but he already guessed that Jason bragged about going so she also went to also see her idol, knowing about her obsession with Spider to which he didn't say anything but encourage it with his own obsession towards the arachnid vigilante.

Not that he minded, two of his kids were better than none and Spider needed all the protection necessary even if the mission was one of the easiest possible. Especially since he chose it as a way to make sure Spider wouldn't be in actual danger.

But the moment he got a message from Conner explaining that Spider was in danger because of Joker, someone who wasn't supposed to be there in the first place, made his world crumble as he ran to where his jet was, needing to get there as soon as possible.

He couldn't let another person, no he couldn't let Spider get hurt or worse, killed, by the clown bastard.

He needed to save them, he needed to stop that fucking clown and he couldn't let Clark beat him to it. He knew that if he was the first one to save them, to help them then they would trust him more.

He couldn't lose that huge advantage to Clark or it would be impossible to even be able to get Spider to trust him or any of his kids. Which was already difficult but he saw them being more comfortable with Duke and Jason.

He arrived almost 3 seconds before Clark did, even though the kryptonian made his presence known since he made a crater at his landing and looked extremely infuriated as he walked towards Conner.

Bruce was already next to the boy and listening to his explanation on what happened, his usual frown that always made him seem annoyed with everything since he didn't want to show that he was scared.

He listened to superboy as he explained what happened in detail as they walked in the lair, a small smile appearing on his face whenever he saw henchmen and cultists knocked out and all tied up in Spider's web.

As they walked he noticed Conner and Clark weren't flying even if the space was big enough for them to even float, so he approached the boy, knowing it couldn't be Clark since the kryptonian was flying just two seconds ago, to see if he had anything on him and saw a familiar glowing green stuck to the boy's shirt.

He quickly grabbed it and put it in a container to block its effect since he knew it was kryptonite, the result showing on both kryptonians because they now could fly again.

He showed the container containing the kryptonite when both Supers looked at him "it was on Superboy's shirt, not sure who put it on him" he explained, now confused but especially enraged to who dared to interfere with the mission and put Spider in danger.

When they arrived at the door he saw something that made him frown more but also worried. He saw Stephanie continuing to tangle her hands in the wires of the panel next to the door, probably trying to open it but he saw her shaking and sobbing, making him understand that the girl was too focused on trying to save the vigilante inside the room that she couldn't focus on the task she was doing.

He then turned to Jason and saw him kicking the door and punching it, small dents on it to show how much strength he was putting in it and his bloody knuckles showing for how long he was doing that.

Bruce quickly checked on Stephanie and Jason before telling Superman to get rid of the door, the silence around them being too suspicious and dangerous since almost 2 minutes before they arrived both Stephanie, Conner and Jason could hear screaming from inside the room.

Dividers were made by @cafekitsune so please check them out because they do amazing stuff.

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[girlgenius1111]

casts, broken arms, & snuggles

alexia putellas x reader - part of the mila verse :)

an accident at the park pulls alexia from training and to the hospital, where she finds both her girls not doing their best. everyone is very overwhelmed with their feelings, and maybe don't handle it the way they should. basically, protective panicked alexia and insecure reader. a bit of angst / injuries / concussions symptoms, mostly fluff.

------

You knew Alexia would panic. There wasn’t much you could do about that. Especially not when the only way you had to reach her was through the staff. It was somewhat of a bad omen within the team, having a staff member walk outside with a phone call for you. It only happened in an emergency, and unfortunately, this definitely counted as an emergency. When one of the assistant coaches, Xavi, answered the phone, he seemed to be on the same page as you. 

“Try to act calm, otherwise she’ll just freak out.” 

“I am not sure there is much I can do to avoid her having a nervous breakdown.” Xavi stated. You heard him call Alexia over, and tried to shush the very upset almost 3 year old in your arms. 

“Amor, what is wrong?”Alexia asked, practically tearing the phone out of Xavi’s hand as soon as she heard who was calling. 

“Everything is fine, okay? There was just a little accident.” You began, speaking in a soothing, calming tone, the same one you’d been using on the baby. 

“What kind of accident?” 

“Meels fell at the park-” 

“¡AY DIOS MIO!” Alexia shouted. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Ale, breathe. She fell off the slide and I think her arm might be broken. She won’t let me touch it and she hasn’t stopped crying.”

“Broken?!” Alexia squeaked. 

“Ow.” Mila whimpered, frowning unhappily at her arm from where she sat in your lap. “Hurts, Mama.” 

“I know, baby.” You told her. “Ale, the ambulance is here to take us to the hospital do you-” 

“What were you doing? Were you not watching her? Why weren't you watching her, why did she fall?” Alexia snapped. 

You bit back the retort you had ready, knowing this was just a result of her fear for Mila. You weren’t happy with what she’d said, but that could be dealt with later. “We’re leaving now for the hospital. Meet us there.” You said coldly, before hanging up the phone without saying anything else. Alright, you were pretty upset, and you let it show. You had already been beating yourself up for what had happened, thinking the things that Alexia had said. 

As you and Mila got loaded into the ambulance, you realized you hadn’t mentioned something important to your wife. No doubt, she was hauling ass to the hospital, so she’d find out soon enough.

-------

Alexia burst into the room in a flutter of chaos, throwing the curtain aside and looking around frantically. Mila was sitting in your lap, holding her arm awkwardly away from her body, while you ran your fingers through her wavy brown hair and tried to keep her calm. Both of you looked at Alexia when she walked in, her panic clear on her face. She was sweaty, still in her training kit, and her eyes were only on her daughter.

“Mila, mi bebé,” she said gently, moving closer to the bed. 

“Mami!” Mila cried, a pout on her small face, holding her arm out for Alexia to see. She squirmed in your lap, trying to get closer to your wife, but you both made sure she stayed carefully where she was. 

“Pobrecita,” Alexia murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing repeated kisses to her baby’s head. She stared hard at Mila’s already swollen arm, trying to stifle her own tears. You weren’t pleased with Alexia, but you weren’t particularly upset that she hadn’t even glanced at you, her attention fully on Mila. “What happened?” 

Mila’s voice wobbled as she began to talk, reaching out with her good hand to grip onto a few of Alexia’s fingers.. “Fell! Off the slide. Mama tried to catch me, but now she has an ouchie too.” 

Alexia’s eyes flew to you, seeing for the first time the towel and large ice pack pressed to the back of your head. Her heart sank. She knew before that she would have to apologize for what she had said, and now she knew she’d have to do even more groveling. Especially if the hurt look on your face was any indication. 

“Amor,” she sighed, reaching for your hand. You pulled it away, refusing to make eye contact with her. 

“I’m fine.” You dismissed. “Mila’s got a basic fracture, just a month or so in a cast to fix it. They’ll be in to put it on soon.” 

“Mama needs stitches.” Mila whispered conspiratorially to her Mami. 

Alexia’s face grew, somehow, even more upset. “What happened, mi amor?” 

Still avoiding her eyes, you spoke quietly. “I was going to catch her at the bottom of the slide, but she stood up at the top and fell off the side.” 

“And your head?” Alexia asked, leaning closer to try and inspect your injury. Mila looked up at you with concern, her expression matching her Mami’s almost exactly. Where Alexia’s fingers were gentle as they cradled your head, Mila’s were clumsy and clunky as she tried to run her fingers through your hair. It was something you did to make her feel better, and she thought that maybe it would make your frown go away, too. 

“I tried to catch her in time, but I slipped and hit my head on the edge of the slide. And I didn’t really catch her.” You admitted, slightly embarrassed at that fact. Alexia would have caught Mila, you were sure. 

“It’s okay, Mama, you tried your best!” Mila said encouragingly, parroting back something you and Alexia must have told her a hundred times. Her arm temporarily forgotten, Mila shifted so she could lean up and press a kiss to your cheek, before she snuggled closer to your chest. 

Your wife’s eyes were stuck on your daughter, practically turning into hearts as she took in how sweet and caring her baby was. You couldn’t blame her; you felt the same. That you had created such a perfect little person would never cease to amaze you. 

“Thank you, my baby.” You mumbled, wincing slightly as you shifted, trying to keep Mila’s arm in a safe position. Every movement of your upper body sent waves of pain through your head, but you didn’t want Mila to know how upset you were. 

“Mi amor, I-”

Whatever Alexia was about to say was cut off completely as the doctor entered the room, introducing herself to your wife, and beginning to talk Mila through the process of getting the cast put on. There were some tears, wiped away quickly by her Mami, as they began to wrap up her arm. 

Once the nurses had taken over, and began adding the colored plaster to the cast, and Mila was suitably distracted, the doctor regarded you. 

“Alright, let’s get that head wound taken care of.” She said kindly, motioning you over to a chair in the corner of the room. She stood by your head, beginning to clean the wound and prepare to stitch it up.

You shut your eyes tightly, trying to keep your wincing to a minimum. Alexia watched on worriedly from her spot next to Mila, knowing how much you hated needles. The midfielder so wanted to comfort you through this, but she also didn’t want to leave Mila alone if she was still upset. So, she did what you’d spent many years helping her do, and communicated. 

“Milabear? Can I go hold your Mama’s hand while she gets her stitches?” She whispered, heart melting at how Mila looked over at you, and nodded enthusiastically. 

“Go help Mama.” She said bravely, feeling much better now that she had her red cast on her arm, and that the nurse had given her some goldfish. Mila munched away happily, her eyes trained on the TV hanging on the wall, and Alexia had never been more grateful for having such an independent and resilient child than she was in that moment. 

Your eyes were still shut, a few tears escaping as you tried very hard to act like the adult you were. You startled a bit when Alexia crouched in front of you and took your hand. Opening your eyes, you tried to breathe deeply, feeling the doctor begin to thread the needle through the skin of your scalp. A small, rather pathetic whimper fell from your lips, and Alexia brought your hand to her lips, pressing kisses to the back of it. Her adoring gaze only made more tears fall, and you felt completely ridiculous. 

“You are okay, amor. It will be over soon.” 

Every tear that fell was gently swiped away by your wife. The doctor worked as carefully as she could, but there were still tugs on your skin that had shivers running down your spine, and your stomach churning. There was only so much Alexia could do to help, but luckily, it wasn’t a very large wound, and the doctor was done within a few minutes, cutting the excess thread and reaching for a white bandage. She wrapped that around your head, holding a piece of gauze in place, which really felt like overkill. 

“Okay, done.” The doctor announced, removing her gloves and stepping away from your chair. Alexia’s earlier words forgotten, you stood shakily to your feet, allowing yourself to fall into your wife’s open arms. 

“You did so good.” She whispered, smiling despite herself at the bandage wrapped around your head. You looked adorable, frowning up at her with tears in your eyes, looking somewhat like a disgruntled mummy. 

“Mama?” Mila called from her spot on the bed. 

You wiped at your eyes quickly, plastering a smile on your face as you walked over to your daughter. “Hi Meels.” 

“All better, Mama?” She asked, reaching both of her arms out for you to pick her up, which you did easily.

“All better.” You confirmed, holding her as close as you could. 

“Almost all better.” The doctor smiled, turning to your wife. “She has a mild concussion with the impact on the ground, so she’s going to need to take it easy for a few days. I am assuming you know concussion protocol, Ms. Putellas?” 

“Yes, yes of course.” Alexia said, her eyes squinting with concern as she studied you. “I will take good care of her.” 

“Me too!” Mila added, squirming in your hold until she could loop her arms around Alexia’s neck and shift over into her arms. 

Your wife very hesitantly pulled you into her as the doctor left the room. You tilted your head to make eye contact with her, still with a small frown on your face. It was clear that you were still upset with your wife, but the determination in her eyes told you she’d do anything to fix it. 

------

Apparently, anything consisted of making you sit on the couch next to Mila, holding an ice pack to your head, and not daring to move. Your wife went from room to room, collecting anything she had determined you or Mila might need. It was endearing, but also somewhat frustrating when she’d appear to hand you something, and go flitting off before you could just ask her for what you really wanted: for her to sit on the couch with the two of you, and relax. 

Stressed Alexia made you stressed, but you knew this was just how she was coping with what had happened today. Alexia always held a lot of guilt for the little moments she missed while at work; any milestone that Mila achieved while Alexia wasn’t around was downright painful for your wife. She was a protective person, and you knew she was even more bothered because both you and Mila were hurt, and she hadn’t been there to help either of you. 

You and Mila sat side by side, heads moving back and forth like you were watching a tennis match. In fact, you were just watching Alexia disappear and reappear with Mila’s favorite toy, a blanket, your favorite sweatshirt, a snack, some water, more ice, more painkillers and 6 different pillows for Mila to rest her cast on. You were exhausted just watching her. 

She appeared back in the living room like a ghost the minute you stood up, her hands grabbing onto your shoulders and gently pushing you back down onto the couch. 

“Ale, just let me-”

“No! Sit.” Alexia insisted, ignoring the small giggle from her daughter. 

You rolled your eyes, shrugging out from under her grip and standing anyway. “Alexia, I have to go to the bathroom. You can’t do that for me.” 

Alexia had the decency to blush, at least. “Okay. I’ll walk you there.” She decided, grabbing your hand and beginning to escort you to the bathroom. Honestly. 

Always her mother’s shadow, Mila got up too, and grabbed your other hand. “Mami I can-”

“No. Sit!” Alexia repeated, though with a small smile as she regarded her daughter. “Mila, you stay there. I can take care of everything.” 

“But Mami-”

“No! I can help Mama, you need to rest.” Your wife said, ignoring the amused look you were giving her, too focused on the attitude suddenly radiating off your daughter. 

“Mami. I have to go potty too.” Mila said exasperatedly. Ale blushed further, nodding as she allowed Mila to accompany you both towards the bathroom. You turned your snort of laughter into a fake cough, knowing that Alexia could be sensitive to being teased about her over protectiveness. And, well… it seemed Mila was holding her own in showing her Mami how ridiculous she was being. 

Once you’d arrived at the bathroom door, which took significantly longer than was necessary due to your wife and her mini-me insisting on walking slowly so as to not aggravate your head wound. You indulged them, only putting your foot down when both of them began to follow you into the bathroom. 

“No. Enough. I can do this myself.” You sighed, looking between both Alexia and Mila’s skeptical expressions. 

“But what if-”

“Mama, I can-”

You interrupted both of them by shutting the door and letting out a deep sigh. If you didn’t have a scar across your abdomen that told you that you’d birthed Mila, you’d be sure she was Alexia’s genetic clone. 

------

The rest of the night consisted of overwhelming amounts of hovering, from your wife and daughter both. Alexia took turns fussing over you, and fussing over Mila, until you were sure you were going to make her sleep on the couch or something, before she suggested waking you up every 20 minutes and performing a cognitive test. 

Alexia had just barely put Mila down in her toddler bed when she heard you call for her. There was urgency in your voice, but it was still obvious that you were trying to keep your voice down for Mila’s benefit. It had been hard enough to get the toddler to sleep; she had become suddenly very tearful once it was time for bed, because her favorite pajama shirt didn’t fit over her cast. It had taken one of Alexia’s t-shirts, around 45 minutes of cuddles, and 4 different stories, for her to finally settle. 

“Alexia,” you whisper yelled, shutting your eyes as the dizziness got worse. You heard Alexia rush down the hall towards you and willed yourself to hold on just a moment longer. 

Alexia ran into the room, seeing you with your head in your hands, sitting up in the bed. “What is it, amor?” 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you managed, pressing a hand to your mouth as Alexia sprung into action. 

“Okay, okay, just hold on one second.” 

Just in time, Alexia thrust the bedroom trash can in front of you. You were sick, retching into the trash can uncomfortably. Your wife pulled your hair back, being careful to not jostle the skin around your stitches, tying it into a very loose bun. She rubbed your back soothingly, pressing kisses into the side of your head until you were done. 

“Oh, amor, I am so sorry.” She murmured, taking the trash can from you once you were done. She was going to take it out of the room, but then she noticed the tears in your eyes, and decided that could wait until later. 

You curled into her when she sat by your legs and pulled you into her arms. Within a second, you were sobbing brokenly into her shirt, incapable of resisting how comforted you felt when she held you. 

Alexia whispered soft reassurances into your hair, beginning to think you were upset about more than just feeling so unwell. “Amor, is it your head? Or something else?” 

You shook your head weakly into her chest, sucking in a few breaths before you tried to respond. “Meels broke her arm and it’s all my fault.” You said miserably. 

“No no no, do not say that. It was not your fault, you did the best you could.” Alexia rushed to make you feel better, but that’s all it felt like; something she was saying just to make you feel better.

“You would have caught her.” 

Alexia’s chest squeezed uncomfortably, knowing that she was partially at fault for how guilty you felt right now. Even if what she’d said had been in the heat of the moment, and it was just a reflection of how upset she was, of course you’d taken it to heart. 

“It was an accident, mi amor. It is no one’s fault. Sometimes kids fall, sometimes they get hurt. It happens.”

“But Ale, it wouldn’t have happened if you had been with her. You’re just… so much better at this than I am.” You mumbled, refusing to untuck your face from Alexia’s shirt, even as she tried to get you to. 

“That is so not true.” Alexia insisted. “You cracked your head open trying to make sure Mila didn’t get hurt. That is not something a bad mother does.” 

You ignored her logic, wiping a tear away with that back of your hand. “You were right earlier. I should have been watching closer.”

Alexia shook her head again. “No. I was-“

“You blamed me then, what’s changed?” You snapped, not quite sure where all of these negative emotions were coming from, or why your mood was changing at the drop of a hat. Sad and guilty one second, angry the next. It wasn’t fair to Alexia, who was just trying to make you feel better, but there wasn’t any room for rationality in your jumbled head. 

Luckily, your wife didn’t seem to take your words or your tone personally. Instead, she tucked a piece of hair back behind your ear and softly kissed your forehead, showing more patience than you were sure you deserved.

“I don’t blame you. I was terrified earlier, but that is no excuse. This was not your fault and I’m sorry I made you feel like it was. So sorry, amor.” Her voice was sweet and you could feel how sincere she was, just from the way her hand gently cradled your cheek. 

Nodding shakily, you took a deep breath, suddenly feeling more than a little exhausted. “I’m sorry, Ale, I just-”

Alexia cut you off, though, placing her index finger over your lips. She looked stern again, like she had before when she was making sure you stayed on the couch and didn’t move. “It’s okay. No apologies. You are overwhelmed and hurt and exhausted. You need rest, we can talk about this more tomorrow if we need to.” 

You nodded your agreement, shifting uncomfortably as you glared down at your pillows. Your head absolutely throbbed, and you hadn’t even tried to rest it on the pillow yet. 

“I don’t know how I’m gonna sleep.” You mumbled, brow furrowing in confusion when Alexia smiled cheekily at you.

“I do!” She said enthusiastically, quickly tucking herself under the covers and pulling you to lay on her chest. Your head was completely safe from any contact with anything, and you found so much peace in the steady thump of Alexia’s heartbeat in your ear. 

She was a miracle worker, Alexia. Just when you thought you were going to explode with the amount of thoughts swirling around in your head, she quieted your brain with a few words and a few kisses. 

Unfortunately, as comfortable as you were, sleep did not seem to be in the cards for either of you. At least, not yet. No sooner than your eyes had fallen shut, and Alexia had settled comfortably into the pillows did you both hear the creak of Mila’s door opening. 

You exchanged a glance with your wife, keeping completely silent, knowing that sometimes Mila would come check on you both during the night, before heading back to her room. You heard her little steps padding down the hall, a small gasp, and then a loud thump. 

Alexia was out of bed before Mila could even cry out. “Stay there!” She threw over her shoulder, causing you to sit back down on the bed with a grumble. You were glad Alexia hadn’t turned the light off earlier, as she sprinted carelessly out of the room towards your daughter. 

“Mama!” Mila sobbed, her little voice breaking your heart. She wanted you, and it took everything in you to not go to her in that moment, knowing that Alexia would bring her to you. 

“It’s okay, cariño, I’m here.” Alexia soothed, Mila’s cries becoming muffled by her Mami’s shirt. 

Still, you could make out her next words very clearly. “I want Mama,” Mila demanded. 

Alexia just shushed her, a few seconds passing before they both appeared in the doorway. Mila’s face was red and stained with tears, her cast cradled to her chest. She reached for you as soon as she saw you, and Alexia wasted no time in bringing her over. 

“Careful, Milabear,” she reminded softly, handing the toddler over to you. Mila curled up against your chest, and you rubbed her back soothingly, exchanging a worried glance with your wife. 

Mila was a rough and tumble kid; she fell often, and really only cried if she was actually hurt. Sometimes, not even then. She was like her Mami in that way, so her inconsolable tears now terrified you. 

“I think she tripped over my shirt.” Alexia murmured, running her hands through her daughter’s hair. Dressed in one of Alexia’s old warm up shirts, Mila surely had tripped over the hem of it. You could see this information really sinking into your wife’s head, as she began to gnaw on her bottom lip, worry and guilt clouding her face.  

“Baby, did you trip?” You asked, easing Mila away from your body so you could get a good look at her face. She nodded, looking between you and your wife, her bottom lip jutting out adorably. 

“Woke up and my arm hurt, and I wanted to sleep in here but I couldn’t see and I fell.” Mila said. “Mama’s shirt is too big.” She continued forlornly, as if just now realizing this piece of information. 

Alexia looked truly distressed, opening her mouth to apologize for allowing Mila to sleep in her shirt, even though you knew the toddler had cried and cried until Alexia had finally given in to what she wanted, if only so she could sleep. You spoke before Alexia could, though, pushing a lock of hair out of your baby’s face. 

“Did you bump your arm when you fell?” You asked. Mila nodded, sniffling sadly. “Does it hurt a lot more or just a little bit more?” 

“A lot at first. Just a little bit now.” Mila said bravely, peeking at her Mami out of the corner of her eye. She loved to act tough, your little girl, but she was only three, and broken bones hurt. 

Alexia still hovered on your side of the bed, looking like she wanted to cry. 

“Alright, Mami will go get you some ice, and you can sleep in here with us tonight. Deal?” 

Mila nodded, flopping forward again to rest on your chest. The fact that her mood didn’t even really lift when you told her she could sleep with the two of you told you that she was really hurting. 

Without a word, only a soft kiss placed on Mila’s forehead, Alexia headed for the freezer. She walked calmly out of the room, but both you and Mila heard the unmistakable sound of her running her way to the kitchen, and running back. 

“Mami’s running.” Mila said, a small smile adorning her face. You laughed quietly, doing your best to keep your smile in check as Alexia slowed to a walk just before walking through the bedroom door, acting as though she’d walked the whole way. 

The blonde had returned with the biggest ice pack you had, the one that she’d used on her knee. She wrapped it meticulously around Mila’s arm, handed her a small sippy cup [of what looked suspiciously like juice, even though Mila was only supposed to have water this late at night], and some children’s pain medicine. 

It was only when Alexia slipped back into bed that she spoke, addressing her daughter with a deep sadness in her voice. “I’m sorry about your shirt, cariño, I shouldn’t have let you wear it.” 

Mila gave her a strange look, scooting out of your lap to lay directly on top of your wife. Her little fingers grabbed onto her Mami’s shirt, even the one’s restrained by her cast twisting into the fabric. “It’s okay, Mami. Was an accident.” 

You smiled at your girls, watching Alexia’s face melt from guilt into adoration as she leaned down to kiss all over Mila’s face. Your daughter giggled, and your heart soared at the sound, more than happy that she had stopped crying and cheered up. 

Mila settled back down against her Mami, reaching one hand out to latch onto your shirt and attempt to pull you closer. “Mama, closer.” She complained, huffing when you didn’t budge. 

Alexia frowned, worried you would put yourself into an uncomfortable position with your head in order to make Mila happy, but luckily, your daughter seemed to have the same thought. 

“Not on your back Mama! You gotta lay on your front. Here, lay on Mami.” Mila offered, whacking Alexia in the face with her cast as she struggled to move over. You snorted at the disgruntled look on your wife’s face, ignoring the fake glare she sent back your way.

It took some maneuvering from everyone involved before Mila was curled up against one side of Alexia’s chest, and you were resting with your cheek pressed into on the other side. Only once you and Mila were both comfy did Alexia kiss Mila on the forehead, and you chastly on the lips. 

And it was only when Mila had drifted off, soft puffs of air leaving her as she gripped onto both you and your wife, that you relaxed. Alexia gave you a knowing smile, well aware that your daughter's insistence that you hold her when she’d gotten hurt, and that you be included in the bedtime snuggles, had put to rest your worries that you’d failed her today. 

It all evened out, in parenthood. You couldn’t forget that. Tomorrow, when Alexia would turn away for a split second too long during breakfast and Mila would end up with syrup in her hair, you’d be even more sure of that. Mistakes didn’t change how much you or Alexia loved Mila, or how much she loved both of you. 

Mila didn’t keep score. She just loved you both, and that was that. 

-----

this has been in my drafts for genuienly several months so i apologize if it doesn't feel very cohesive. hope you enjoy anyway 🙂🫶🏻 thanks for reading 🫡🥰

[maskedbyghost]

part 3 of Simon marrying another woman. tw: violence, mental health struggles, torture, mentions of death.

Your breath caught in your throat. Time seemed to slow as Simon raised the gun to his head, his hands steady on the trigger.

But your voice cut through the silence, even though it felt like you couldn’t move at all.

"Do it, then. If that’s really who you are."

His hand froze, the gun still on his temple.

His eyes snapped to yours filled with confusion. It seemed like you weren’t good at this.

You moved a bit forward, eyes locked on his. "But don’t pretend this is strength. Don’t act like this is the man who’s led us through hell and back. The man who doesn’t quit."

His grip tightened for a second, then stopped.

But you didn’t stop. "You think this is how it ends? You, sitting here while everything burns down around you? That’s not you, Simon. You fight. You endure. That’s who you are."

He still kept looking at you.

Another inch closer. "So go ahead. Pull the trigger. But if you do, you’re not the man I thought you were. Not the man who kept us alive when it mattered."

The gun trembled in his hand, lowering just a fraction.

Your voice was low that Price, who was still standing behind the two of you, barely even heard. "Or you can drop it. Stand up. And prove me right."

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Then, the gun slipped from his grasp, landing with a thud on the floor.

Simon slumped back against the wall and you felt like you could finally breath again.  

You didn’t move closer. You didn’t offer comfort.

You just stared him down.

And that was enough. For now, at least.

A few days since that night things were quieter, but you could still feel the tension deep iside you. Simon had begged Price and you not to tell anyone what had happened—what he'd almost done. You still remember the panic in his eyes as he requested you both keep it between the three of you. Price had agreed, but only if Simon promised to see a psychologist.

The terms were set. Simon would keep up with the therapy, or he would retire early. But Simon didn’t resist; he knew it was his only chance to avoid the fallout, to start dealing with everything.

You hadn’t tried to talk to him much since that day. You gave him space. You knew it wasn’t your place anymore—not after everything. There were moments when you’d catch him in passing, but your gaze would quickly drop to the floor, avoiding the awkwardness that had settled between you both. He didn’t reach out either, not that you expected him to. Simon was good at keeping everything locked away, just like he had always done.

You saw him during briefings, his eyes weren’t the same anymore—not the man you once knew. But that was something he had to face on his own. You weren’t going to intrude. You couldn't.

And the thing that hurt the most? He still didn’t talk about her. You knew she wasn’t in the picture anymore, but he never said a word about their relationship, not to you or anyone else. He’d simply let it go, as if she had never been part of his life.

As if she didn’t ruin everything.

You didn’t ask. You couldn’t. Maybe it was better that way—both of you pretending like that chapter never existed. But, deep down, you knew better. You knew Simon had his reasons, and you didn’t need to hear them.

You didn’t expect anything from Simon anymore. You’d let go of that hope months ago. But you knew the team was watching, concerned. Soap had asked you about it a few times, always in his own way. He never pushed, but you could tell he saw what was happening, saw how it affected you. But none of them pushed. None of them knew what to say.

So you stayed back, kept your distance. If Simon wanted to get better, if he wanted to talk, you’d be there. But for now, you had to let him find his own way.

A few days later as you walked into your room, you tossed your gear aside and slumped into the chair at your desk. But something caught your eye, a small folded piece of paper sitting on your desk.

A letter.

With a deep breath, you picked it up, your fingers trembling as you unfolded it. The handwriting was unmistakable, Simon’s familiar handwriting filled the whole page. You felt a pang in your chest before you even read the first word, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“I don’t know how to do this love, but I need to tell you. The therapist says I should, and I think I have to. You deserve to know the truth

It’s not easy to admit this, but I’ve been living a lie. She lied to me, twisted everything in my head, and I let her. She fed me so many things—things about you, about us, about my life—that I didn’t even know what was real anymore. I don’t know how to explain it, but I believed her. I believed everything she said. She was my childhood friend after all. I thought I was doing the right thing when I left you, when I walked away. Oh, what a fool I was.

The night I left... that fucking picture. She showed it to me. It looked real—too real. You and him. Another soldier from the squad. She said it was proof. Proof that you were with someone else, that I wasn’t the one for you. She made it seem like it was your betrayal. I was hurt, so damn hurt, and I couldn’t think clearly. I didn’t want to believe it, but I did. She had everything lined up, a story that made sense.

And then I left. I told myself I was doing the right thing. I thought I had to walk away, that maybe it was for the best. She was there for me. She comforted me, and I was angry, so angry. I didn’t want to be angry with you, but I couldn’t help it. I thought you’d done something you clearly hadn’t. And I couldn’t even tell you the reason. What a fucking idiot.

And then she kissed me. She kissed me first, and I didn’t stop her because I thought it was a way to move on. Maybe it was the only way to forget, to forget you and the happiest period of my life. And when she started saying we were dating, I let it happen. I thought maybe this was the right choice. Maybe she was the one I was supposed to be with.

Then came marriage. She kept talking about it, about us being a family. And for a while, I didn’t know what to think. I thought I should just go with it, that it was the only way to keep going forward. But I couldn’t bring myself to sleep with her. I told myself I needed time, maybe because she wasn’t you. It was never the same. I don’t know why, but I just couldn’t do it.

She understood at first. But then one night, she started giving me alcohol, glass after glass, trying to push me into something I wasn’t ready for. She thought if I was drunk enough, maybe I’d forget you. Maybe I’d forget all of it. We kissed that night, and in the middle of it, I said your name. Your name. I couldn’t stop myself. And that’s when the fights started. That’s when everything I’d been avoiding came crashing down.

Then, that day when Price found me in my office, someone came to me. Someone from the team. I never thought they would be the one to speak up, but they did. They told me the truth. About her. About that picture. It wasn’t real. She had it photoshopped. She hired him and made it look like you and that soldier were sleeping together.

And when she asked for more proof, she wanted him to photoshop something with you and Soap. She thought if I saw that, I’d really walk away from everything, from the team, from you. She wanted to tear us apart, and I couldn’t see it.

And then he told me the that she had been cheating on me. She had been with him the whole time, and she’d used the pictures to manipulate me. She wanted me gone from the team. She wanted me out of your life. And I lost it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I told her to pack her bags and leave. I told her it was over.

I konw don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I have to say it. I’ve been living a lie, and I hurt you because of it. I let her make me believe you betrayed me, and I walked away without ever giving you a chance to explain. I was wrong. I’ve spent months lost without you, and I know now that I can’t move on from you. I’d get on my knees for the rest of my life, begging for your forgiveness if that’s what it takes, because I know I don’t deserve it, but I’ll spend every day proving I’m worth it.

Please, love, tell me how to fix this, please let me love you and be a part of your world again.

Still yours,

Simon.”

Your heart felt like it had shattered and been pieced back together in the same breath. The betrayal, the lies, everything she had done—it wasn’t just him being reckless; it was her plan all along. She had played on his emotions, fed him exactly what he wanted to hear, and made him believe you’d betrayed him.

The man who had once been yours, and in so many ways still was, was telling you everything—his pain, his regret, his desire for you to be in his life again. But the past still lingered between you both.

You sat there for a long time, the letter crumpled in your hands, the weight of his words sinking in slowly. Simon had been lost, and you had been left behind in ways you couldn’t even fully understand yet.

What the hell are you supposed to do now?

You didn’t waste any more time. You folded the paper with shaky hands and made your way to Simon’s office.

The hallway was quiet as you approached the door, your footsteps louder than you wanted them to be. When you reached it, you didn’t hesitate. You pushed the door open, the creak of the hinges made Simon look up, his eyes meeting yours after many days.

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you at first. For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, looking at each other.

Finally, you broke it. “So, you’re begging now,” you said, your voice sharp, filled with all the anger and hurt you’d been carrying. “After everything. After you walked away without a single explanation!”

You couldn’t hold back any longer. The anger you’d kept buried for so long spilled out.

“You left me, Simon,” you said, your voice now shaking. “You left me without a single word. You let someone else twist your mind, made me out to be the villain in your life. All I ever did was love you, and you threw that away like it didn’t even matter.”

You could see the regret in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough. Not now.

“You don’t get to just come back and act like nothing happened! You don’t get to ask me to forgive you after all of this, after everything. How the hell do you think this works? You think you can just walk back in and everything will be fine? It doesn’t work that way, Simon!”

He didn’t interrupt you. He didn’t say a word. He just stood there, watching you, his eyes full of pain. He just took it, and it made you angrier.

“You ruined everything! You destroyed us!” Your hands balled into fists at your sides, and you paced in front of him. “And now you want me to believe you? To trust you again? To just let you back in like you didn’t break me? What do you want me to say, huh?”

Still, he didn’t speak. He just watched you with that same, haunted look, his jaw clenched.

And then, slowly, he started moving. It was almost too slow to notice at first, but you caught it—the way he stepped toward you, the way his feet seemed to drag across the floor.

Before you could say anything else, he was in front of you, kneeling down, slowly lowering himself onto the ground until he was on his knees. It made you freeze. For a moment, you thought you’d imagined it, but there he was, on the floor, looking up at you with nothing but regret in his eyes.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What the hell are you doing?” you demanded, your voice almost a whisper, still raw from the firestorm of words you’d thrown at him.

His head tilted down, and he didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate. “I’m serious about begging,” Simon said, his voice soft. “I’ll do anything. I don’t care what it is.”

Your heart raced. This wasn’t what you expected. It wasn’t some desperate plea or just empty words. He was on his knees—literally on his knees—in front of you.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” Simon continued, still looking up at you, his eyes full of an intensity you hadn’t seen in a long time. “But I can’t live with what I’ve done to you, not anymore. If it’s the only way to make things right, I’ll do it. I’ll beg. I’ll spend the rest of my life on my knees if that’s what it takes to prove I’m sorry.”

You stood there, staring at him, your chest tight. You’d never seen him like this. This wasn’t the Simon you knew. The man you’d loved, the man who had always been strong, never one to show vulnerability like this.

But here he was. On his knees, asking for a chance. And you didn’t know if you were ready to give it to him. Not yet. But with everything that he was saying, the sincerity in his eyes—it hit you harder than anything else.

You opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come right away. It felt like a lifetime before you finally spoke.

“Why?” It was all you could manage.

Simon’s gaze never wavered. “Because I don’t want to live in the lie anymore. I don’t want to be the man who hurt you. I want to fix it, if you’ll let me. I’m begging you. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

And before you could speak, before you could even think, Simon’s hands reached out and grabbed at your legs. He pulled himself even closer, his face pressing against the fabric of your pants, his breath shaky against your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over, his voice breaking with each word. “I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.”

He held on, his arms around your legs, his forehead pressed against you like he didn’t want to ever let go. The sight of him, once so strong, now so broken, made something inside you stir. You hadn’t expected this. This wasn’t the man you thought you knew.

“Si?” You said, your voice barely audible.

“I’ll do anything,” Simon muttered, his grip tightening. “I swear, I’ll do anything. Just... please, let me fix this. Let me make it right.”

He stayed there, kneeling, holding you, his words still coming in soft, broken whispers, and all you could feel was the weight of everything—everything he had done, everything he was asking, everything that had been broken between you two.

He just continued to apologize, and you stood there, staring down at him, unsure of what came next.

A few days later, the feelings between you and Simon had settled, at least for now. Things weren’t perfect, but they were different. You could talk again—really talk—without the anger clouding everything.

He was still Simon, the man who had been by your side for so long, but now there was space between you, a new kind of distance. Friends again, not lovers, but it was a start.

You found yourself standing in his office again as Simon worked through paperwork on his desk. The sound of the pen scratching against the paper filled the room as he glanced up at you.

“I’ve got the divorce papers ready,” Simon said, you could hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I’ll send them to Price, and he can take care of sending them to her.”

You nodded, thinking for a moment. “I’ll take them to Price myself,” you said. “I need to see him anyway.”

Simon looked at you, a slight nod of approval. “Alright. Thanks, love.”

“How about we grab a cup of coffee after? Just as friends,” Simon added, his voice still soft, hopeful.

You thought about it for a second, then gave him a small nod. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

He smiled, just a little. It wasn’t much, but it was real.

As you turned to leave, your hand reached for the divorce papers on Simon's desk. Simon didn’t stop you as you picked up the papers and walked out of the office, the sound of your footsteps echoing down the hallway.

But as you made your way down the corridor, instead of heading to Price’s office, you turned down a different hallway, towards the abandoned building on the other side of the base. It had been years since anyone had used it, but you knew it well enough.

The old building creaked as you descended the stairs, the air heavy with the musty smell of decay. You could hear the sound of your boots hitting the concrete floor as you entered the basement, the space cold and unwelcoming. But there, in the corner of the room, hanging from a noose, was the woman who had taken everything from you—The bitch.

Her body swayed slightly as you approached, the dim light casting long shadows over the room. You stopped just in front of her, the cold fury building inside you.

You grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down from the ceiling, letting her body fall to the floor with a thud. She was still warm, her fingers twitching slightly as you knelt beside her.

"You're going to sign something for me," you said, your voice cold, deadly. "With a hand that's still functional though... before I kill you."

Her lips trembled, but she didn't say anything. She couldn’t. The pain and fear were clear in her eyes, but it was too late for her now. You knew what you had to do.

With a sigh, you reached for a pen. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” you whispered, ready to sign her fate.

-------------------------------------------

Once I click post now I'm running away. I'm scared haha

what do you guys think????

@daydreamerwoah @postm0rt3m @blacpiink @nightunite @surprisinglydreaming @shybasementtree @foxwitch666 @snaaaaaaaaaked @somethingsaladsomething @massivescissorsthingperson @abbeyskeff @a66-1 @mortem-writes @jupitersmoon167 @blankk3 @yxfairyrx @balletbiscuit @pickyourpoisonandevolve @emilia527 @midgalaxysparkle @0bonnie-bunny0 @kittygonap @babybimbo777 @johnnyshoe @probably--possessed @iloveoutlinesiswear @lucienofthelakes @foxintheferns @mamamayhem36 @sxnshinebxcky @keiva1000 @rain-likes-purple @piconico17 @sai-int @soosouyoung @cobyjackkkkk @dvmbk1tty @angstdaddy

[ruewritesoccasionally]

Shades of Red | Terry Richmond

Pairing: Dark!Toxic!Terry Richmond x Black!Reader

Warnings: dark themes + smut 18+, breaking + entering, jealousy, possessiveness, toxic themes, slight power dynamics, rough sex, choking, light slapping, spitting, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), squirting, breeding kink } everything is consensual but read at your own risk !

Summary: Passion, anger, lust, jealousy—all woven together into one man. Terry is charming, entitled, enticing and dangerous. YN couldn’t have seen his latest move coming….

Word count: 4.7K

a/n: This is my first time writing anything remotely dark and I think I really stepped outside of my little box. I wanted to craft a toxic love letter of sorts and I'd love to hear your thoughts..

Terry Richmond wasn’t the kind of man who stayed anywhere too long. His life was like a shifting tide—here today, gone tomorrow, always pulling away just when you thought you had him figured out. The nomadic way he moved through life suited him. He’d had his fill of staying still, of people poking too closely at the layers of armour he’d carefully crafted. Shelby Springs was just another pit stop, a place he landed when the world got too loud. And it’s where he met YN.

They’d been introduced a couple of years back through a mutual friend who had the bright idea of setting them up. “You two would be perfect for each other,” the friend had said with entirely too much conviction. But what had started as a well-intentioned matchmaking attempt quickly took a detour.

From the jump, Terry and YN decided that dating wasn’t in the cards. He was too restless, too unpredictable. She had her own life, full and vibrant, with no room to babysit someone who disappeared for weeks at a time with no explanation. Still, their chemistry was undeniable, electric in a way neither could ignore. They both wanted something—each other. And so, they reached a compromise: friends with benefits. No strings, no expectations, no hard feelings.

For the most part, it worked. YN respected Terry’s need for space, and he appreciated that she didn’t cling or demand more than he was willing to give. She had her own thing going on—a career she loved, friends who kept her laughing, and a life that was full even without him in it. She’d grown used to his disappearing acts, the way he’d go rogue and vanish for weeks or months at a time. He always came back, though. And when he did, he always found his way to her.

He was good at that—finding her. A text here, a call there, a late-night knock on her door. She’d let him in every time because, for all his flaws, there was something about Terry that drew her in. Maybe it was his charm, that easy confidence that made her roll her eyes even as it made her pulse quicken. Or maybe it was the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing that mattered when he was near. Whatever it was, she couldn’t quite quit him. And truthfully, she didn’t want to.

But this time felt different.

His text came in the middle of the day while her phone was on silent. She didn’t see it until much later, after the rush of meetings and emails had finally died down.

“Be back in town tomorrow night. Clear your schedule for me.”

The audacity of it made her laugh out loud. Terry had never been one to ask—he told. It was part of his charm and part of what made her want to strangle him sometimes. Still, she wasn’t mad. She got as much out of their arrangement as he did, and she’d been known to hit him up with the same kind of energy when the mood struck. They were equals in that way, unapologetic about what they wanted from each other.

But tonight, she couldn’t clear her schedule for him.

She typed out her response quickly, a small smirk on her lips as she imagined his reaction.

“Can’t tomorrow. Got a date.”

The reply came faster than she expected.

“A date, huh?”

That was it. No teasing, no snide comments, no flirty jabs. Just three little words that carried a weight she couldn’t quite place.

She frowned at the screen, re-reading the message as if the meaning would suddenly reveal itself. It was unlike Terry not to have some kind of comeback, some witty remark designed to get under her skin. The lack of it left her unsettled. But she shrugged it off, chalking it up to him being busy or distracted.

On the other side of the phone, though, Terry wasn’t as calm as he seemed.

Sitting in a dingy motel room on the outskirts of God-knows-where, he stared at her message, his jaw tight. A date. Someone else was taking her out, sitting across from her, making her laugh, looking at her the way he looked at her. And worse, someone else might be touching her, staking a claim to what he’d quietly, possessively come to think of as his.

He took a slow, steadying breath, forcing himself to calm the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. She wasn’t his. Not really. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. But the thought of someone else having her, even for one night, made his chest burn with something he couldn’t quite name.

Terry’s fingers hovered over the screen, itching to say something, to tell her to cancel, to remind her who always had her coming back. But he stopped himself. No, he’d let her have her little date. Let her laugh and flirt and pretend that whoever this guy was could give her what she needed. Because when it was all said and done, she’d come back to him.

And when she did, he’d make damn sure she remembered exactly who she belonged to.

Terry Richmond wasn’t an easy man to forget, and that much was evident as YN stood in her bathroom mirror, smoothing on her lipstick for the finishing touch. Tonight was a rare occasion for her—a date with someone who wasn’t him. She tilted her head slightly, assessing her reflection. The soft waves in her hair framed her face just right, the shimmer on her eyelids caught the light, and the dress she’d chosen fit like a second skin. She looked good. She felt good.

Still, a shadow lingered in the back of her mind, one with piercing eyes and an infuriatingly smug smirk. YN had spent the last two hours convincing herself this date was just what she needed: a change, something uncomplicated. Terry was Terry—a storm she willingly walked into time and time again. But tonight? Tonight was about something different, something quieter.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, and her eyes flicked to the screen. A simple text from her date: “Looking forward to tonight. See you soon!”

She smiled faintly, but the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes. YN tucked the phone into her clutch, grabbed her coat, and headed out. It was time to leave Terry Richmond out of her headspace—for now.

The restaurant was cozy and inviting, the kind of place that struck a balance between intimate and casual. Her date, Mark, had chosen well. He was polite, attentive, and easy on the eyes—a charming blend of confidence and warmth. They’d talked about work, travel, books, and even swapped a couple of funny anecdotes about their childhoods. By all accounts, it should’ve been perfect.

But halfway through Mark’s story about his latest hiking trip, YN caught herself tuning out. Not entirely—she was still nodding at the right moments, laughing softly where appropriate—but her mind drifted, unbidden, to another memory. One of Terry.

She could almost hear his voice, teasing and sharp. “Hiking, huh? Bet he’s one of those guys who carries a selfie stick to the summit just to post about it.” The thought was so vivid, so him, that YN nearly laughed aloud. She caught herself, her smile faltering for a moment before she refocused on Mark.

“So, what about you? Do you hike much?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious.

“Not really,” YN replied smoothly, pushing the thought of Terry aside. “But it sounds like you’ve had some incredible adventures.”

Mark beamed, and the conversation continued. YN did her best to stay present, to enjoy the evening for what it was. By the time dessert came around, she’d almost succeeded in compartmentalizing the storm that was Terry Richmond.

Almost.

The date ended as expected—with polite goodbyes and the suggestion that they should “do this again sometime.” Mark walked her to her car like a gentleman, and she thanked him for the lovely evening. As she slipped into the driver’s seat and shut the door, YN let out a small sigh.

It hadn’t been a bad date—not by a long shot. Mark was sweet, thoughtful, and seemed genuinely interested in her. But he wasn’t...well, she refused to finish that thought.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel as she started the engine, the soft purr of the car filling the quiet night. She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. The lipstick was still perfectly intact, the curls still falling in place. By all accounts, the night had been a success. So why did it feel like something was missing?

Across town, Terry sat in his truck, parked a few blocks from YN’s apartment. His phone screen glowed faintly in the darkness as he scanned the messages she hadn’t yet responded to. His jaw tightened. The thought of her out with someone else wasn’t one he could swallow easily, no matter how cool and composed he pretended to be.

Reaching over to the passenger seat, he grabbed the small black bag he’d brought with him. It contained exactly what he needed—what he’d planned for. With practiced ease, Terry slid out of the truck and moved through the shadows. The street was quiet, the kind of stillness that came late at night when most people were already home.

It didn’t take him long to reach her place. The familiarity of it was almost comforting. Almost. He worked quickly, his movements precise and deliberate, the product of years spent learning how to move unseen, unheard. Within moments, he was inside.

The scent of her perfume—light, floral, undeniably her—lingered in the air. Terry inhaled deeply, a dark smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He made his way to the living room, his boots barely making a sound against the hardwood floors.

There, on the coffee table, was the bottle of whiskey she kept for him. He chuckled softly, pouring himself a glass and settling into the armchair in the corner of the room. The dim light from the streetlamp outside cast long shadows across the walls, and Terry sat there, waiting.

She’d be home soon. And when she walked through that door, she’d find out exactly what happened when you tried to leave Terry Richmond behind.

The hum of her car engine faded into the quiet night as YN pulled into her driveway, the evening’s events still replaying in her mind. The date had been pleasant enough—a nice dinner, polite conversation, and a genuine, if not thrilling, connection. But as she turned off the ignition, an inexplicable sense of unease settled over her, clawing its way into her chest. It had been faint earlier, an odd niggling in the back of her mind, but now it was undeniable. Something was off.

Stepping out of the car, she adjusted her coat and approached her front door, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. As her hand reached for the keys in her bag, she froze. The door wasn’t locked. Her pulse quickened, and she stood there for a moment, staring at the slightly ajar entrance.

No. She distinctly remembered locking it before leaving. Didn’t she?

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, her mind racing. Maybe she had been distracted and forgotten in her rush to leave. But no matter how she tried to rationalise it, the unease only deepened. The air around her felt heavy, charged, as though the house itself was holding its breath.

Pushing the door open, she stepped inside cautiously, her senses on high alert. The room was unnervingly quiet, and yet something wasn’t right. There was an energy in the space that hadn’t been there before, a presence she couldn’t see but could feel. She paused in the doorway, her hand still gripping the doorknob as her eyes scanned the dimly lit room.

Then it hit her—the faintest trace of cologne lingering in the air, mingling with the rich, unmistakable scent of whiskey. Her stomach dropped. It couldn’t be. Could it?

Her voice cut through the silence, firm but edged with trepidation. "Terry?"

No answer. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she took a tentative step further into the house. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears. "Terrance Richmond," she called again, louder this time, her tone sharper, more demanding. "If this is some kind of joke, I swear—"

Her words faltered as her eyes adjusted to the low light, finally spotting the shadowed figure seated in the corner of the room. The amber glow of a table lamp barely illuminated his silhouette, but she didn’t need to see his face to know. She would recognise his posture anywhere, relaxed yet commanding, his arm draped over the back of her chair as though he owned the place. The glass in his hand caught the light as he raised it to his lips, the sound of ice clinking faintly breaking the silence.

"Terry," she breathed, her voice a mix of anger and disbelief.

He set the glass down with deliberate slowness, leaning forward just enough for the light to catch his features—a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mix of amusement and something darker. "Welcome home, Princess."

“You’re home late,” he said, his voice smooth and low.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped, her heart pounding as adrenaline coursed through her veins. “How did you even get in?”

He raised the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip before answering. “You’re not the only one with a key, Princess.”

“I never gave you—”

“You didn’t have to,” he interrupted, setting the glass down with deliberate precision. “I’m a resourceful man.”

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, fury and confusion warring inside her. “You can’t just break into my house, Terry. That’s insane.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze never leaving hers. “What’s insane is you thinking I wouldn’t notice.”

“Notice what?” she demanded, her voice rising.

“You,” he said simply, his tone unnervingly even. “Trying to replace me. With him.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, suffocating and thick. YN stared at him, her mind racing to process what was happening. This wasn’t Terry—at least, not the Terry she thought she knew. The possessiveness in his voice, the casual way he’d invaded her space, it all screamed of something darker, something she wasn’t sure she could handle.

“This isn’t about you,” she said, forcing her voice to steady. “I have a life outside of you, Terry. You don’t get to control that.”

His lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. “I’m not here to control you, YN. Just to remind you who you belong to.”

Terry’s words lingered in the air, heavy with promise and warning, as he took a slow step closer. The air crackled between them, electric, suffocating and sinister. YN felt her pulse thunder in her ears, the thrum of anticipation coursing through her veins like wildfire. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to run, to retreat, to reclaim control of the situation, but her feet refused to move. It wasn’t fear that kept her rooted in place—it was him. The commanding weight of his presence, the way his eyes bore into her with a heat that made her knees tremble.

“Terry,” she began, her voice wavering despite her best efforts to steady it, “I—”

He cut her off with a single step, closing the distance between them until the barest whisper of air separated their bodies. His scent—whiskey, spice, and the faintest trace of cedar—enveloped her senses, dizzying and disarming.

“Don’t,” he growled, tilting his head slightly as if daring her to finish that sentence. “Don’t give me excuses. Don’t feed me lies about him or pretend he’s what you want.” His hand came up, fingers brushing against her jaw, and she flinched—not from fear, but from the raw, undeniable pull between them. “You and I both know that man doesn’t know a damn thing about you.”

Her lips parted, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue, but he moved faster. His hand slid to the back of her neck, gripping just firm enough to make her gasp. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice a rough rasp against her ear. “Say you thought about me tonight.”

YN’s breath hitched. She wanted to deny it, to tell him he was delusional, but the truth burned hotter in her chest than any denial ever could. She had thought about him. His presence lingered in the back of her mind all night, the ghost of his touch, the memory of his voice. It had tainted every polite smile, every harmless laugh, every fleeting touch from a man who wasn’t him.

“I hate you,” she whispered instead, the words trembling with a mixture of fury and something far more dangerous.

Terry’s mouth twisted into a wolfish grin. “Hate me all you want, Princess,” he drawled, his thumb brushing against her lower lip. “But don’t forget who makes you feel alive.”

Before she could respond, his lips crashed against hers, rough and unyielding. It wasn’t a kiss born of tenderness; it was hunger and frustration, a collision of wills that neither of them intended to lose. YN’s hands pushed against his chest, but it only seemed to fuel him further. He growled low in his throat, his teeth grazing her bottom lip before his tongue swept inside, claiming her in a way that made her knees buckle.

Her defiance melted into something impure, needier. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer even as she cursed herself for it. Terry’s hand slid down her back, gripping her waist and yanking her against him with a force that made her gasp into his mouth.

“You’re a piece of work,” she hissed when they finally broke apart, her chest heaving with shallow breaths.

“And you love every second of it,” he shot back, his voice dripping with arrogance. His hands didn’t stop moving, sliding under the hem of her top to find bare skin. The heat of his touch burned against her, sending shivers cascading down her spine.

“Terry…” Her voice faltered as his fingers dipped lower, tracing the curve of her hip. She hated how easily he unravelled her, how her body betrayed her with every shiver, every hitch of her breath.

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips finding the curve of her neck. He bit down lightly, just enough to make her gasp and clutch at his shoulders. “I told you, I’m not here to control you. But you’re going to remember exactly who you belong to by the time I’m done.”

With one swift motion, he lifted her onto the counter, his hands gripping her thighs with bruising force. YN barely had time to protest before his mouth was on hers again, devouring her in a kiss that left no room for argument. His hands pushed her dress higher, exposing more of her skin to the cool air and his insatiable touch.

She moaned into his mouth as his fingers slid between her thighs, finding her already soaked through. He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against her lips. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. “All night, you were mine. Even when you were with him.”

“Shut up,” she snapped, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of anger and arousal.

“Make me,” he challenged, his voice dripping with smug defiance.

She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down into another kiss, pouring every ounce of frustration and longing into it. But Terry wasn’t content to let her take control for long. His hand slid further up, his fingers pressing against her with a skill that had her crying out despite herself.

“Say it,” he demanded again, his breath hot against her ear as his fingers worked her relentlessly. “Say you’re mine.”

“Terry,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as the tension in her body built to an unbearable crescendo.

“Say it,” he growled, his voice taking on an edge that sent a shiver of both fear and excitement racing through her.

“I—I’m yours,” she choked out, the admission torn from her lips as her body betrayed her completely.

He grinned wickedly, his fingers pushing her over the edge with ruthless precision. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple as she shattered in his arms, her cries echoing through the room.

And he wasn’t done yet.

Terry’s grip on YN’s hips tightened, the pads of his fingers digging into her flesh as he hovered above her. His eyes burned into hers, dark and unrelenting, as if trying to burn every unspoken word into her very soul. He leaned down, his mouth a breath away from hers, his lips brushing against hers as he murmured, “You only ever say my name tonight. Nothing else. No one else.”

Before she could respond, his lips descended on hers with bruising intensity. The kiss was all-consuming, a searing mix of dominance and desperation, his tongue delving into her mouth as though he could taste every word she hadn’t yet spoken. When he pulled back, his gaze swept over her swollen lips, and he smirked like a predator.

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” he muttered, his voice rough, laced with dark amusement. “Always trying to act tough. Always pretending like you don’t need me. But I’ll fix that.”

Without another word, he moved lower, kissing his way down her neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses across her collarbone and between her breasts. His teeth scraped lightly against her skin, eliciting a shiver that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. He paused for a moment, watching her with an almost sadistic level of patience, as if daring her to tell him to stop.

She didn’t. She couldn’t.

His hands roamed lower, pushing her thighs apart with an ease that made her stomach twist with equal parts annoyance and anticipation. She was already dripping wet, the evidence of her arousal glistening in the low light. Terry groaned at the sight, a deep, primal sound that sent a jolt of electricity through her body.

“Look at you,” he said, almost to himself, as he trailed his fingers along her folds. “So fucking perfect. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Before she could muster any sort of response, he lowered his head between her thighs, his tongue swiping a deliberate, teasing stripe through her slickness. Her back arched involuntarily, a strangled gasp escaping her lips. Terry chuckled against her, the vibrations making her toes curl.

“That’s it,” he murmured, before diving in with a newfound ferocity. His tongue worked her clit in relentless circles, alternating between broad strokes and focused flicks that had her gripping the sheets for dear life. He didn’t stop there, though. Two of his fingers slipped inside her, curling upward in a way that made her see stars.

“Oh, fuck—Terry,” she choked out, her voice raw with desperation.

He hummed in approval, his name falling from her lips like a melody he wanted to hear on repeat. Her thighs began to tremble, the pressure building so quickly it almost scared her. She tried to pull away, overwhelmed by the intensity, but his hands clamped down on her hips, anchoring her in place.

“Uh-uh,” he growled, his lips never leaving her clit. “You’re not running from this. You’re taking everything I give you.”

The overstimulation had her head spinning, tears welling up in her eyes as her orgasm tore through her. She screamed his name, her body shaking uncontrollably as she soaked his fingers, his mouth, everything. Terry groaned in satisfaction, lapping up every drop like a man possessed.

When her body finally went limp, he sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes gleamed with something feral as he watched her struggle to catch her breath.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “See? You don’t need anyone else. Just me.”

Before she could recover, he was on her again, positioning himself between her legs. He leaned down, spitting directly into her mouth, his gaze daring her to defy him. She swallowed without hesitation, her body responding to his dominance in ways she couldn’t control.

“That’s what I thought,” he muttered, lining himself up at her entrance. He pushed into her slowly, making her feel every inch of him, until he was buried to the hilt. He stayed there for a moment, letting her adjust, his eyes locked on hers.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “Say it.”

“Yours,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move. His thrusts were deep and deliberate, each one designed to remind her of exactly who she belonged to. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by her cries and his grunts.

Her mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, the lines between the two blurring as he pushed her closer to the edge once more. When her responses began to falter, her head lolling to the side, he delivered a sharp slap to her cheek—not enough to hurt, but enough to snap her back into focus.

“Eyes on me,” he commanded, his voice cutting through the fog. “I want to see you come undone for me.”

She obeyed, her gaze locking onto his as her second orgasm ripped through her, even more intense than the first.

The final wave of his dominance surged as Terry pressed her deeper into the mattress, his thrusts growing slow but deliberate, each one hitting with a force that left her breathless. Her legs trembled uncontrollably around his waist, every overstimulated nerve in her body aflame, her cries breaking into fragmented whimpers.

His breathing grew heavier, ragged, the telltale signs of his release building. Still, he didn’t rush—he wanted her to feel it all. Every inch of his claim. His hand tightened around her throat as his lips brushed the shell of her ear, his voice dropping to a rough, guttural growl that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I’m going to cum deep inside you," he rasped, his words slow and deliberate, carrying the weight of his intent. "And you’re not going to let a single drop out. You need to feel me, baby—every part of me."

Her head flung back, her lips parted in a silent gasp, unable to do anything but nod as her body clung to him, every sensation amplified. She didn’t even have time to prepare as he thrust into her one final time, his release hitting her like a brand, searing and unrelenting.

The warmth of him filled her, explored her body like it belonged there, and Terry didn’t move—he stayed there, buried to the hilt, ensuring she took every ounce of him. His hand slid from her throat to her jaw, tilting her head up to meet his intense gaze. The raw satisfaction in his eyes mirrored the shattering chaos within her.

"Mine," he murmured, the word almost reverent, though it carried the weight of a command.

They stayed like that for a moment, tangled together in the aftermath, their breaths mingling as they came down from the high. Terry brushed a stray curl from her face, his touch surprisingly gentle despite everything that had just transpired.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said softly, almost tenderly, though the possessiveness in his tone was unmistakable. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[fireinmoonshot]

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader (Twisters) Summary: You're a new addition to the Storm Par team and Tyler finds himself fascinated with you from the very beginning.

It’s been a long and stressful day, so you assume that the group of tornado wranglers hanging about the large red truck by the stairs are feeling the same way as you – exhausted – and will let you head upstairs to get some much needed rest.

You are, however, incredibly wrong. 

“Hey, you’re the one with the Storm Par team, aren’t you?”

You force yourself to a stop on the first landing and turn to the group, all of their eyes staring up at you, and nod. “And you are the ones that make videos on Youtube.”

Boone, one of the only ones who’s names you’d gotten earlier today, laughs. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, but I’m taking it as a win since you know who we are, as well as the other million people who subscribe to us.”

It’s hard not to smile at least a little at his cockiness. If you had a million subscribers on Youtube, you’d probably also have let it go to your head a little. 

You try and excuse yourself from the conversation then, assuming it’s over, and take a step towards the stairs, but yet again – you’re wrong. This time, it’s the tall, gorgeous blond man that speaks. Tyler Owens.

“I don’t think she’s subscribed to us, Boone.”

You can’t help it. You bite. “What makes you say that, Owens?”

He grins up at you from his spot on the back of the truck. “Am I wrong?” 

“That’s not an answer.”

The others in the group laugh and whoop, obviously enjoying the back and forward between the two of you. You assume that it’s rare for Tyler Owens to get that from anyone, let alone a fellow storm chaser that he’s never met before in his life. 

Tyler looks at you for a few moments without saying anything and you take that as your cue to leave, stifling a yawn as you turn away and head up the staircase. You can hear the others chattering back at the truck as you reach the top of the staircase and move to find your room, desperate for a warm shower and a comfortable bed. 

You’re so stuck in your own thoughts that you don’t hear someone bounding up the stairs behind you. 

“Hey, Storm Par,” Tyler Owens’ voice surprises you.

You look up from the key in your hand, having been checking your room number, and meet his eyes. “Were you that desperate for an answer on whether I’m subscribed to your Youtube channel that you had to follow me up here?”

Tyler chuckles to himself. “No, surprisingly not. Just figured I’d come and ask you how you’re doing and didn’t think you’d want an audience for that question.”

You’re a little surprised by his kind nature. Judging by what you’d seen of him so far, he was more of an act first, think later kind of person. And maybe he still was since he’d run after you so fast. 

“How I’m doing? I met you twelve hours ago.”

He flashes a grin. “I can’t ask someone I met twelve hours ago how they are?”

“Well…” You hesitate, a little lost for words. “I’m fine, just tired. I haven’t done this storm chasing thing in a couple of years and it’s going to take a bit of getting used to, especially working with a team like Storm Par.”

You don’t owe Tyler an explanation about everything, not about why you haven’t done it in years, nor why you’re a bit apprehensive about the Storm Par team. But you figure, since he’d been so kind to follow you up here to check in on you, a small explanation is the least you can offer him in return for his kindness.

Tyler nods. “Listen, I know my team can be a little much sometimes – in a good way, don’t get me wrong – but if you’re ever after a bit more fun than the suits and PhD’s of Storm Par, I’m sure we can squeeze you in.”

You snort. “They do not wear suits while storm chasing.”

“How do you know? You’ve only been here for twelve hours, Storm Par.”

Tyler smirks as you narrow your eyes at him. “Not my name, Owens.”

“Go and get some rest, you’ll need it for tomorrow.” He can see that you’re exhausted, and even though you’re happily playing along with him, he’s not the type to push it too far. Especially when it comes to you, apparently. “I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.”

“You gonna set up camp outside my room?”

“No, not for someone I’ve only known for twelve hours. But I will guard the stairs incase Javi or Scott come looking for you,” he smiles, amusement in his every word. “Go on.”

You listen to him, eyeing him carefully one last time before turning and heading towards your room, which you think is at the end of the corridor. Just as you’re putting your key in the lock, you hear him yell out behind you.

“If you can’t sleep, you can always look up Tornado Wranglers on Youtube!” 

[princessbrunette]

boxer!rafe had his anger mostly under control. thats what the boxing was for. but no one’s perfect. there were times he’d slip up.

he’d developed the knack for being able to ignore the other men in the locker room at the fighting grounds. he had his own upcoming fights to worry about, his own family to feed — whilst he used to be a sucker for a good argument, it had become the least of his concerns. they knew that about him, therefore they knew what would get under his skin.

“ayeee, it’s pretty boy!” one jeered as he stepped into the locker room — sore, toned body trudging over to his usual locker to retrieve his stuff so he could get out and go home to you. he was used to the nickname, infact it had even been self proclaimed at some points on the ring. girls held up ‘pretty boy’ signs during his fights, upon winning multiple fights and climbing the ranks he was gifted a chain with ‘pretty motherfucker’ engraved on the pendant. it was nothing new to him.

the chatter continues in the room amongst the men, and he figures he can let his guard down now, knowing they wouldn’t be testing him. they’d heard of his rage through stories, rumours that he’d been in jail for killing a cop in his past. it intrigued people, wanting to see how far they could push him. just as the cameron boy is getting his gym bag together to leave, he’s brought into the conversation once more.

“right? i wanna start seein’ some newer faces in the crowd i’m gettin’ tired of the regulars.” the same douche that addressed rafe when he entered speaks, eyes flickering over to the younger guy in amusement. “hey cameron, got anyone you can bring to spice things up around here? how ‘bout that pretty wife of yours? maybe she can motivate me before the fight—”

he doesn’t get to finish his taunt, before in a flash rafe had pinned him the locker with a crash, doors rippling and padlocks clattering. he presses his arm into the man’s neck, jaw clenched and vein popping out his neck.

“fuck you say? huh? nah, go ‘head repeat yourself.” rafe threatens, practically growling through bared teeth at the man. the other fighter goes to shove him back, but the cameron man is unmovable. if there’s one thing he doesn’t play about, it’s you.

rafe stumbles back slightly, but it’s only to wind up and slam his fist into the man’s face when he dared to smile. the other men start to get involved now, trying to pull rafe off but it only made him angrier. “think that’s funny? yeah?” he yells, and punches the man again, the time harder. his skin cracks and blood splashes onto his knuckles as he continues. he knew this was going to result in at least a week suspension from the gym, and that was with the gym owner being fond of rafe. he shoves himself off eventually, the man groaning on the floor in pain.

full of adrenaline, rafe picks up his bag and heads to leave, but not without spitting out a venomous “lemme hear you talk about my wife again. i’ll kill you. a’ight?”

he’s not proud of himself by the time he’s arrived home. it’s been a while since he’d gotten angry like that, violent outside of professional boxing. it’s so soft in your shared home when he arrives, and it makes him feel ashamed. it smelled like you’d been baking fresh cookies, the house clean just for him. it melts him, because sometimes he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still the monster he used to be. something that didn’t belong here.

he stops in the doorway to see you napping on the couch, looking delicate like a petal that had fallen off a flower, drifted in the wind and had just landed there perfectly. the small bump that had only just begun to show through your dress strains ever so slightly against the material and he scratches at his cheek. he shouldn’t be acting like this. not when fatherhood is approaching.

he busies himself off to the shower, hoping to wash the day from him. not long later, the sound of the water woke you — and you appear in the bathroom quietly, stripping yourself of your clothes and climbing in behind him. you press a soft kiss to the centre of his back because you could tell it’s tense, a telltale sign that he’d had a rough day. you don’t need to speak, not yet anyway as he relaxes slightly at your touch — feeling your tits press against him from behind and your swollen tummy when you lean forward. he lets out a long sigh, head running beneath the water.

hugging him from behind, you peer round to see his bruised knuckles. he hadn’t come home with those for a long time, he’d usually wrap them if he was going to spar or whatever.

“what happened?” you can’t help yourself, curiosity getting the better of you.

he presses his lips together, caught. he doesn’t wanna tell you what they said, make you uncomfortable. it’s not necessary and it would only make him mad all over again. he runs his knuckles under the water, ridding them of any of the left over dried blood that he wasn’t sure was his.

“ah i uh… i lost my temper… a little. s’not important.” he huffs, peeking briefly over his shoulder at you. you don’t question it, knowing it was potentially a sore subject. he feels another kiss on his back.

“s’okay.” you’re so nurturing, so gentle. your hands slide around his hip bones, caressing the veined skin on his lower stomach above his cock. the appendage jumps once realising what you were after. maybe it didn’t take long because of the soft kisses and your body pressing to his, paired with the day he’d had — but he’s hard in no time when you start palming at him.

he tips his head back under the water, the droplets racing down his toned back and shoulders as you slowly tug at him from behind, doing your best to relax him. “s’okay rafe.” you whisper once more. “you’re home now.”

he certainly was.