#the running away together against moms wishes

[senxitive]

I'm thinking about it again (chapter 9 ff7r when Cloud and Aerith steal away in the dark of the night together)

[writersdrug]

Bartender Simon, who cuts of a drunk costumer. The costumer is angry and begins insulting Simon, particularly his looks. It doesn't bother Simon but how does Waitress!Reader react?

Alas... the much-awaited ktih

Warnings: making out, groping, dry-humping

It was only seven pm, and Cole was already drunk. Simon knew this would happen - it usually does, at least every Friday night. He comes in, drinks for a solid two hours, until Simon finally has to cut him off and steer him in the direction of his apartment. The man at least lets him add twenty percent auto gratuity if he has to be sent home like that - and, more often than not, it's every week.

Today, however, is a different story.

Cole had come in at four, right when the pub opened. He gave you his usual, tight-lipped smile, making his way to the seat he took every Friday evening. Simon was already pouring his beer by the time he removed his coat. The conversation continues (mostly one-sided on Cole's part), as does the night, and he never ceases to tip the beers back - rattling on about how much money he makes, only getting louder when a group of women walks by.

Around nine at night is when he began to get drunk enough that the numbers on his tab begin to blend together. "A'aight- 'nother one for good fortune." He smacks his empty glass against the bartop, making you jump slightly as you did your tips at the end of the.

"Not tonight." Simon says, hovering over the POS and punching buttons on the screen. "You got 'nuff for good fortune. You can pick it back up next week."

"Bahhh, c'mon - I'll pay double." Cole slurs, leaning over the bar.

"What's your wife's name?" Simon asks, turning back around and leaning against the liquor shelf.

"... Sharon."

"Ya not even married, Cole."

He laughs, eyes glassy as he smacks the bartop and wheezes. "Tha's good! Real good- ya got me. Can't keep a woman 'f I tried."

Simon doesn't comment. He slides Cole's receipt across the bar, before promptly turning back and grabbing a glass.

Cole sighs, crumpling the receipt in his fist. "Y' don't want business?"

"Don't want you gettin' lost findin' your Uber." Simon replies, polishing a glass.

"Y'know..." Cole leans back in his seat, very adamantly refusing to leave, "I know you're strugglin' t' bring in the money with... whatever ya got goin' on behind the mask."

Maybe when he was a lieutenant, constantly dealing with jabs and stabs towards his ego, it would have gotten to him. But Simon just huffs in annoyance. "This what you resort to when you can't get a beer?"

"Defensive much?" Cole bites back. "You could use the money to fix y'r fuckin' face. Should stop bein' such a cunt n' worryin' 'bout me like you're my mum."

"Hardly - your mom probably wishes she'd swallowed you instead."

Simon nearly drops the glass - it takes him a moment to realize that you had spoken, and another one to process just what exactly you had said. He turns around to find you, staring Cole down with the most disgusted, angry expression he's ever seen you display. He's speechless - mostly because he didn't know you had an arsenal of insults, ready to fire off like this.

Cole chuckles drunkenly, turning in his seat to face you from down the bar. "Don' like it when I insult y'r bank account, do ya?"

"Aren't you supposed to be dumpster diving or something?" You snap, getting up out of your seat - Simon's never seen such a look in your eyes, and he quickly steps out from behind the bar to jog over to you. He places a hand on your shoulder, but you don't back down.

"You realize who you're talkin' to, little girl?"

"Draco Malfoy if he'd gone into British Parliament."

"Oi-" Simon snaps, fingers digging into your shoulder - surprisingly, you swat his hand away. You're fuming at this overgrown cabbage, running his mouth like he actually means something to anyone in this pub.

Cole purses his lips; your insults are getting to him. "You gonna do somethin' with this chick?" he asks Simon - who nearly blows a cap, but you beat him to it.

"Y'know, maybe you should spend your money on fixing those fucking teeth - because I see they're still social distancing - instead of wasting our time here, you grey, fucking sprinkle on a rainbow cupcake-"

"Hey- stairwell. Go." Simon gives you a gentle shove towards the stairs, and you throw your hands up and storm off. He stares after you, wide-eyed and tense, watching as you disappear behind the stairwell door. He's quickly growing hard, concerningly, after witnessing you fire off at Cole with a loaded gun full of wit and anger - it was quite possibly the most attractive thing he's seen you do.

Cole huffs, breaking Simon's focus. "Women - sticking their noses where they don't belong." he looks at him, expecting the bartender to agree.

Simon's holding back the urge to drive his fist into the man's skull. He grabs Cole's jacket from the back of the chair and shoves it into his chest so hard he nearly falls from his seat. "If you're not gone in the next ten minutes, Soap 'n I will make you leave, you understand?" he doesn't even wait for a reply, turning on his heel and stalking towards the stairwell, boots thudding heavily against the ground.

He's got bigger priorities at the moment.

You're standing in the stairwell, chewing the edge of your sweater as you stare at the dustpan and broom. Simon can surely fight his own battles - he didn't seem irritated in the slightest by Cole, why did you step in? Simon isn't yours (unfortunately), you don't need to defend him. You don't have the right to defend him other than the fact that he's your coworker. Manager. And you were definitely doing it based on other, unspoken reasons. It was obvious. Is it obvious to him? Forget possibly losing your job, is he going to be mad that you lost your shit like that? That you put your foot where it doesn't belong? That-

The door to the stairwell swings open, and you stop your pacing. His eyes are lidded. Angry? You can't tell. He looks rather intimidating, tall and tense as the door swings shut behind him, mask bunched into his fist as he shoves it into his back pocket.

You think he's about to let you have it, to chew you out for your outburst. "Simon, I'm-"

His rough hands are around your face before you know it - right as you open your mouth to yelp in shock, he leans down and kisses you.

Your eyes force themselves shut. You don't have a chance to pull away, not with his hand cradling the back of your head. He won't let you; you don't want to. His breath fans across your face, fingers calloused yet gentle as they relax around you, and you sigh into his touch, tilting your head to let him get closer. Your arms rest against his shoulders, squeezing the muscle as you feel months of worry and anticipation melt away-

And then, as quickly as it had begun, Simon has the audacity to stop and pull his head back.

His eyes find yours, still cupping your face in his hands. He looks breathless - good. At least you know he's just as riled up as you are, now. There's a hint of pink on his cheeks, and a need for reassurance in his hazy stare. He needs to know he was right, despite the months of flirting and the little chase you've been leading him in; now that he's finally caught up, caught you in his grasp, he needs you to tell him you want this. Though he doesn't know how he'll survive if you don't.

"You ok?" He pants, brow creased with uncertainty.

You let out a noise of frustration - threading your fingers behind his neck, you pull him back down, sealing your lips against his once again.

He exhales through his nose in relief. His hands find your waist as you part your lips, letting him slip inside and explore your mouth. Your fingernails dig crescents into his skin - he lets out a rather needy-sounding groan, backing you up until you hit the wall. You whine; your tongue flicking across his lower lip sends a shiver down his spine, heat building and twisting and tangling in his gut until you break away for a moment, nipping your teeth into his lip.

His mind short-circuits; he grunts, all the blood in his head rushing south to his cock, where it's getting uncomfortably warm and tight. He grabs you underneath your ass and hoists you up, and you squeak, instinctively locking your legs around his hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he kisses you feverishly, desire brewing in your stomach as he presses you into the wall, tongues and teeth clashing, the both of you unable to satisfy the ever-growing blaze. It threatens to burn up the stairwell until there's nothing left but a sweaty, naked mess.

Simon breaks away to latch onto your neck, taking the thin flesh and rolling it between his teeth You bite back a whimper, carding your fingers through his hair; he bucks his hips in response, albeit involuntarily. You can sense the knot in your pelvis tightening, underwear growing slick as you feel the size of his erection with each thrust. Even through his clothes, you can tell it would be a challenge, but you've never been one to back down.

Fingers slide under his shirt, feeling the solid wall of muscle and fat beneath - his retracts a hand and drags it up your stomach, kneading and groping your tit through your shirt, silencing your moan with another searing, wet kiss. He's grinding into you now, hips rolling, cock twitching through his pants as you lock your ankles behind his back, and fuck he's ready to strip you bare right here and fuck you against the wall, ready to get back at you for teasing him for so long, ready to listen to your cries as you take each and every rung of his piercing-

He catches himself, lips moving away from yours to kiss along your chin, all the way up to your jaw. He sighs as he stills his hips, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he leans his weight into you. You feel him relaxing, wondering if he's worried about you again, but you so desperately want this to continue where it's heading.

"I'm alright, I'm alright-"

"I know..." he mumbles, his hand sliding back to your thigh and squeezing the flesh there, fingers barely slipping past the hem of your shorts. He wants to go further, to feel the hem of your panties snap against his fingers, but he forces back the urge.

"What's wrong?" you pant, craning your neck to the side to look at him.

"'M not..." he huffs, pulling his head back and gazing down at you. "Not fuckin' you in the stairwell, dove. 'S filthy back here."

Your face heats up even more - the fact that he had to hold himself back from disheveling you right now is an unspoken compliment. "Can we take it upstairs?"

He chuckles and gently sets you down, much to your disdain. "No. Got a bar to run." He says, preening at the way you pout at that. "And I'm takin' you out, first."

"Out?"

"Yea, for lunch."

"Wh- where?"

"You decide. Monday."

Monday - that's deep-clean day. "Don't we have to be here at noon?"

He chuckles. Always worrying about losing your job. "I'll make an exception. Won't fire ya for goin' on a date with me."

Date. God, you could scream. "But what if Price-"

"If that man ever threatens your position at this pub," Simon leans down, gently grabbing your chin between his fingers, "you come to me, n' I'll knock some sense into 'im. Sound good?"

You're too starstruck to register half of what he's said. Simon Riley's just kissed you. AND admitted to wanting to fuck you. Now, he's taking you on a date on Monday. Did you have any plans? Doesn't matter. If you do, they're cancelled.

"Uh huh..." you say, absentmindedly leaning into his touch.

Looking down at you: you, you... god, can he call you his? Is that too soon? The stars in your eyes while you're staring at him, the struggle within himself to avoid both adoration and getting hard(er)... He takes another deep breath, thumb running down the blossoming hickey on your neck.

"Right." he taps your cheek softly, then goes to tuck his shirt back in from where you'd torn it from the waistband. "Go ahead n' take a minute. Come to the bar 'fore you leave."

He grabs the handle to leave, hesitating only for a moment. Both of you seem to have the same idea, sharing a hive mind with each other. You quickly move forward and he leans down as you both kiss again, slower, trying to savor this one. Honey drips from your brain into your chest, every cell in your body screaming in relief, satisfaction, and pure joy...

He breaks away again, laying a kiss to the crown of your head. You sit down on the stairs as he walks back onto the pub floor. He's still hard, and it's plain as day - but he could care less right now. He's got you just as much as you've had him. There's a lightness in his shoulders, a voice in his head that you've finally plucked free and thrown into the abyss, only to be replaced by your own being.

You're still sitting on the stairs, massaging your tits through your shirt as you try to smooth your nipples out. Your mind is racing a million miles a minute. What should I wear? Will Price be upset? Should we try to hide this? Will anyone care? Should I wear perfume or just body spray? Is work going to be weird now? He's not going to treat me differently, is he?

You sigh, biting your lip and trudging up the stairs. Your fingers run over the hickey on your neck. I need to find a whisk.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Yandere batfam or justice league with a reader who’s afraid of strong people/men due to a past abusive relationship? She never wants to feel that powerless and weak again so she actively avoids interacting with anyone stronger, bigger, taller any more than necessary. She doesn’t hold it against other ppl she just has a lot of trauma that she’d rather not work through and feel safe in her little bubble

Hit me Hard and Soft

Synopsis: You get saved by Robin, but not everything is as it seems.

Pairing: Yandere!Poly!Romantic!Batboys X Gn!Reader

Tw: All characters aged up, of course; Mentions and descriptions of violence, including physical, psychological, sexual and financial abuse, and Damian fighting criminals (I'm particularly proud of the action scene I wrote); Drugging and being unconscious; Mentions of death of minor characters and suicide; Mentions of past grooming (Reader's ex) and age gap (Reader’s ex, Reader X Bruce, and the batboys age is not mentioned); Implied stalking; Mentions of kidnapping; Reader's very traumatized and weary of everyone; Reader doesn't trust the police; Mention of a panic attack and descriptions of actual panic; Guns and knifes; Mention of cigarettes; Implied needles; English isn't my 1st language.

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Wish I had more interactions between Reader and the batboys here, but I'm more than willing to make a part 2 with the right idea.

General masterlist | Hit me Hard and Soft - Series masterlist

He's back again. You wish you could say you didn't know why he always came back, but you did. The food wasn't that great and it wasn't that close to where he told you he worked or lived. It also didn't help that he always made sure to be served by you. And that he flirted with you.

— Evening, (N/N)! Is there something as sweet as you on today’s menu? — You gave a small and polite laugh.

— Strawberry pie… As always…

It was kinda sad, but mostly scary. If it wasn't for your ex, you would be thrilled to have gotten the attention of Dick fucking Grayson. The whole city knew he was handsome, rich, talented and charismatic. Gotham's sweetheart, Gotham's golden boy. And from your daily interactions, he lived up to the expectations. He was polite even when flirting with you and asking you out. Yet, something held you back.

— Nice! Since you get out in a few, why don't you bring in two slices? One for me and one for you, it's on me, of course. — You shook your head quickly, with an empty heart, just wanting to get away from him as fast as possible.

You were with your ex since you were 17 to 26. Almost 10 years wasted on a dirtbag. He convinced you to leave your friends, to leave your family, to leave your job. As soon as you started living together, you were completely dependent on him. Sometimes you blamed him, sometimes yourself, sometimes the people you had around you, but back then, where you came from, people weren't questioning the imbalance of powers between a 17 year old highschooler with no job and a 23 year old man with a steady job and living alone.

He convinced you that going to college and ending your relationship was the worst decision you could take. Then, that you didn't need your family, he could take care of you. One day, he decided you couldn't have friends.

He often locked you inside the house, cursed your skills and appearance, neglected your overall health, intimidated you, screamed at you, broke your things that he did and didn't pay for. He hurt you physically, even sexually. You knew both dating him and leaving him was hard, you just expected living with the scars was going to be easier.

And it was! You decided to run away from him and to Gotham when you received the news that your mom died and he didn't even want to let you go to the funeral. The grieving made you reflexive and you realized how shitty your situation was. For years you just thought that it would eventually get better, that you just needed to be strong, that he showed he loved you when he wasn't being an asshole, that you couldn't get anything better, that he made you feel special.

You couldn't even go to the police, he was a cop, you knew the chances that in any scenario you would lose. So you ran.

You knew it was dangerous, but you had nothing to lose. If he didn't kill you, you would do it yourself. You made a plan, drugged him, took some of his money, used his house keys, left everything behind for the second time in your life. You didn't waste time asking for help from the people you knew. You took the bus and went as far away as you could.

Your paranoia was so bad that for almost a year, you would settle in a city, work to save up enough, and leave again, rinse and repeat. Eventually, Gotham seemed big and far enough to go by unnoticed.

Or that's what you thought, until Dick Grayson stopped by the diner you worked to have breakfast before going to work, as a cop, and decided you caught his attention.

Since then, he came back everyday. Either breakfast, lunch, dinner, or just to hang out with some family member, usually one of his brothers, his dad appeared with him sometimes too. Your boss loved the attention Bruce and Tim attracted, the two most media active ones, since they both led Wayne Enterprises.

Eventually, even them started appearing multiple times a week. You thought you were healing, until you found yourself crying for almost four hours at home in a panic attack.

You didn't want their attention. Not only was it weird, but they were just so… Superior to you.

They were all taller, more muscular, faster, smarter, richer. It was like reliving the beginning of your relationship at 17, plus 10 times worse. Five because they were five people mirroring your ex, and more five just because of your trauma, experience, negativity and lack of naiveness.

Also, why were they ALL into you??? And they were aware of it! It was weird! Why??

Bruce Wayne was disarmingly charming in his dilf way. Dick was surprisingly accessible. Jason was soft spoken despite his resting bitch face and leather jacket. Tim was cute in a nerdy way. Damian almost made you laugh with his sarcastic humor.

Either way, you never wanted to feel as little as you felt before, so you just did your job, acted polite, but ultimately kept your distance.

Freedom has its difficulties, one of them being that you need money, and for money, you need a job, which means sometimes you have to stay until closing time, at 11 PM, in Gotham.

You're not the only employee to stay so late, but you and your co-worker live in opposite directions, so walking alone it is. They're taking the bus, but you only live two blocks away, so you gulp down your anxiety and keep walking. One hand on your pocket, holding your taser firmly, and keeping your head up, turning to look at every sound.

It's cold, and the street is empty and dimly lit. Some places are so dark that you wonder why you're even paying taxes if the streetlamps won't work.

Two men turn the corner a few meters in front of you, one at least a foot taller, the other, two inches max. They're wearing hoodies and their hands are on their pockets, the light behind them creates a shadow that doesn't allow you to see their faces, nor where they're looking at, but they are coming in your direction.

There's a car, parked between you both. Some people might think at this point it's just paranoia, but you’ve heard stories of people walking next to cars, getting pulled inside by someone who was hiding in there, and getting kidnapped.

Your first instinct is flight, so you turn around, ready to run, even if you look weird in case those guys weren't planning to do anything with you, just to see other two guys emerging from the other corner, those two almost as tall as that first guy. Aside from the smaller one, they're all broad, even with their thick clothes covering them.

One of them has a cigarette on his mouth, which he throws on the ground when you turn your attention to him. Your fear might have caused you to hallucinate, but you're almost sure he's smirking.

You freeze for a second, your only escape is to run to the side, and pray their long legs don't get to you first. You think you hear one of them start hollering at you.

You only take a step to the side, when a loud crash startles you so hard that you have to look behind, while walking backwards to the street. You take a second to process the sight.

Robin is standing in the middle, just a few steps behind where you were standing a second ago. He's at least half a foot taller than all of them, and a lot broader. He's holding the tall one by his neck with his right hand, repeatedly hitting his head against the car’s window.

You're shell shocked, torn between staying put to watch this disaster, as interesting as a car crash, or running away. Gotham is so big that you never thought you would encounter one of its heroes, you weren't sure if you even wanted to.

When the guy seems to stop moving, Robin throws him against one of the other tall ones, the guy practically flies across 2 meters before hitting him, and when he does, they both fall to the ground. You remember all the times when your ex pushed you to the ground.

Your eyes are wide, horrified, watching the shortest guy take a pocket knife out of his pocket. Your throat locks, even if you want to scream for Robin to turn around, you only manage to stare and stay in place, however, the vigilant turns halfway around just in time to grab the guy by his wrist and his arm, just as he launched to stab him. He uses his body’s impulse to push the guy forward, the knife going to the fourth guy's shoulder, you hadn't even seen him get so close to him.

You look at the man from the car, he's still unconscious, the one who got tackled with him, however, is already standing and walking to the fight.

Everything’s happening too fast, you turn to the side to see the guy with the knife on his back on the ground, groaning and twitching in pain, while Robin is punching the shit out of the other guy, movements faster than you could ever dream of achieving. You remember being on the receiving end of someone's fists before.

With a final elbow to the cheek, the guy stumbles to the ground, you don't know what level of consciousness he’s in, by his posture before, you knew he was already compromised since the first hits he took.

Robin doesn't move, doesn't even turn to look at the guy who just fell, he's just looking forward, and when you notice this, you look at the remaining guy.

He's pointing a gun at him.

You don't think you can watch someone get shot in front of you, and you know if he gets rid of Robin, it's over for you. Logically, you knew these vigilantes somehow never die, still, it's counterintuitive to think he won't.

And he doesn't, in the blink of an eye, Robin's on the air, his right boot kicking the gun away, while still on the air, he wraps his legs around the guy's head, bends backwards, puts his hands on the ground, then launches his whole body to the front, the guy getting thrown over him. He falls to the ground, Robin stands on top of him with perfect balance. You don't even have time to process what just happened, the coolest and scariest thing you saw your whole life, when Robin punches him one last time. Now, he's definitely unconscious.

You’ve felt like a bystander this whole interaction, it felt like ages, but in reality all of this couldn't have taken more than 20 seconds, maybe even less than 15. You don't know what to do now. You're theoretically safe, but Robin’s still too big, too strong, too fast. He knocked out four guys without getting touched a single time. He broke a car's window. He threw around two guys who weighed at least 80kg. He's not even panting. And now he's looking at you.

A whimper gets stuck in your throat. You don't know if you should thank him, stay silent, or yell at him to stay away from you. When he takes a step in your direction, your instincts get the better of you and you turn around, running.

You hear him call your name, although your brain doesn't process it. You see headlights and look towards it. It's a car. You don't trust you’ll get help, but at least you're not alone. You run in it's direction, waving your arms and screaming bloody murder.

The car almost hits you, but you don’t process that until the last minute, but you get tackled to the ground just in time by the hero from before. You scream again, he's too close. Now, he's trying to hold you down. You keep screaming and trying to escape. You look to the side and the car just kept driving away, likely the driver wouldn't stay behind to be another victim to Robin's hands. You know you're not being rational right now, those guys are known for helping people, he just saved you, he's still trying to stop you from getting hurt, but you're scared. You've been scared since you were a teenager.

Your eyes burn, your arms and throat hurt, but adrenaline doesn't let you feel anything. Not even the invasion of a needle on your side.

— Was it really necessary? — Tim deadpans Damian, who growls.

— You would have done the same, Drake.

— No, I wouldn't. You were supposed to use the psychological first aid approach and (Y/N) would've calmed down and trust us more in the future. But of course, you never use your brain. — Damian growls, stepping towards Tim, but he is stopped by Dick’s hand resting on his chest.

— Damian, calm down, Tim’s right. You knew better than to sedate them. You knew of (Y/N)’s trauma and you knew the route we wanted to take. — Damian's brows furrowed and he crossed his arms.

— I knew your feelings toward (Y/N) would make you become impulsive again. — Tim looked at Bruce, who was silent, with hands intertwined and elbows on the table, focused on your vitals on the screen and the sight of you laid on the bed on the medbay. — Will you now consider just letting you, me and Dick keep an eye on them during patrol? — Damian and Jason scoffed.

— Why you aiming at me now? It was the demon who gave that guy brain death! — Jason protested and Tim looked at him.

— Just to be sure you won't freak out like him and kill thrice as many people, on purpose this time. — Jason glared at him.

— B, you better add more security measures around (Y/N), before Timbo tries to clone them or something. — He muttered with snark.

Dick shook his head and sighed, going to stand on Bruce's side, crossing his arms and looking at you through the camera with him.

— What's the plan now, B? They're probably waking up soon. — Bruce hummed, relaxing his stance and resting his back against his chair. The silence lingered for a few seconds, everyone just looking at you, waiting for the oldest’s opinion.

Bruce turned around, looking at them.

— … Damian, Tim's right. You were impulsive today and you killed someone, even if it was an accident. I stopped expecting that from you since you were 12, you're an adult now. You not only broke our trust, but (Y/N)’s already shattered trust. They need to know they're safe with us, and drugging them, instead of puting to use more time and effort to bring the comfort to them, is not going to do that. You weren't much different than the man who hurt them tonight. — His father's words were like a punch to Damian's stomach, leaving him speechless. Dick pursed his lips, not turning around as to make it easier to not comfort his brother just yet. Bruce turned to Tim. — Tim, I understand you want to take measures seriously. But you need to give Jason a chance. That was unasked for. — The mentioned blinked, still unacostummed with the treatment he received from his dad when he followed his rules. Tim looked away. Bruce turned to Damian again. — Damian, no patrolling around (Y/N) until you prove we can trust your temper again. — He waited for a confirmation, which came with a sneered lip.

— Yes, father.

Dick looked back a Bruce.

— What about (Y/N)? — He bit his lips. Bruce hummed, turning to look at the monitor again.

— … What do you all think?

— Well… Damian said their name, they might not remember it, but they can't just wake up at home. They’d try to flee from us. We could bring them home earlier, but our ideal plan was to make them come willingly, in the period of at least two years, in the best case. We could leave them at the hospital, and just keep our plan going. — Dick listed the possible strategies they could take. Bruce hummed.

Tim piped up.

— I already altered their phone's algorithm to send the job application as my assistant at Wayne Enterprises to them. And the Wayne Foundation’s application for the internship at Gotham Uni. — Bruce nodded.

— Damian? What do you understand about that? — It was clearly the beginning of his test.

— The more secure in their independence they feel, the easier it is to heal and open themselves up to new opportunities. — Damian exclaimed with confidence. Bruce nodded.

— Jason, are you still interested in college? — Everyone looked at Jason surprised, he was also surprised, he hadn't talked to Bruce about college since before he died.

It took a few seconds to processes what it would mean.

— Uh… I think so?! — Bruce nodded.

— What about me, father? — Damian spoke inquisitively. — I also want more opportunities to get closer to (Y/N)! — Bruce narrowed his eyes at him.

— We will think about that when you're in the clear.

— But-

— That's final. You reap what you sow. — Damian huffed and nodded begrudgingly. — … Now, since Robin was the one to save them, take the batmobile and leave them in the hospital. Then come straight back home. Understood? — Damian clenched his jaw and nodded silently, leaving to get your unconscious body.

Moments later, when you were both out, on the way to the hospital, Tim fiddled with the computer, the scream showed the batmobile’s tracker, your tracker, Damian's tracker, Damian's contact lenses’s camera and the car’s camera. They all looked at him.

— … It's just to make sure…

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@wandalfnation @vadersassistant @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @hxsun4 @silverklaus @toast-on-dandelioms @bluewillbon @ladyel1x1r3l0p3r

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Missing Piece

616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?

Word Count: 10.4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.

A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)

Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.

I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.

The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.

I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.

As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.

I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.

After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.

I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.

But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.

With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.

The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,

"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.

"Awww but Mama!" They whined.

"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.

I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.

My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.

I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.

"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.

Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?

Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.

But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.

I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.

"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.

"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.

With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.

As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.

After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.

The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.

"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.

The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.

"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,

"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.

"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.

"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.

"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."

"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,

"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,

"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.

As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.

For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.

But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."

I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.

"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."

She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."

I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.

With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.

Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.

"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."

I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."

She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."

A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."

The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.

"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.

"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.

"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.

"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.

"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.

"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.

"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.

"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.

"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.

"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.

"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.

"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.

Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.

I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.

She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.

========================

The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.

I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.

I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.

She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.

And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.

But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.

My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.

"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.

"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.

I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.

"What?" I ask.

"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,

"You did what!?" I screech.

"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.

"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.

"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."

She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."

With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.

As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.

And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.

With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.

When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.

"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.

"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.

"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.

"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.

"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.

As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.

With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.

Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."

She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."

I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.

"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.

The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.

I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.

Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.

Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.

And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.

In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.

"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.

The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.

Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.

With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.

With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.

In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.

For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.

"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.

"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.

"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.

"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.

The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.

"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.

With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.

"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.

"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.

As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.

I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.

With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.

And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.

The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.

The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.

"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.

"Thats never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."

Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.

"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.

In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.

A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.

Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.

"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.

Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.

In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.

========

In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.

With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.

Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.

As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.

"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.

Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.

"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."

==============

As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.

Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.

With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.

==============

As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.

Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.

As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.

Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.

Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.

As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.

And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.

As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."

My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.

"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.

The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.

As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.

"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.

The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.

As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.

With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.

As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.

Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.

In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.

As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.

I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.

With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.

As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.

A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.

With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.

As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.

In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.

As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.

===========

Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.

"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.

"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.

"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.

As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.

In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.

With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.

As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.

"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."

In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.

With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.

Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.

"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.

"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."

As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.

"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.

As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.

In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.

Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,

"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,

"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”

In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

[whisperofwonder]

Good Cop, Bad Cop

Parenting with various Haikyuu men - sometimes you're the good cop, sometimes you're the bad cop.

Featuring: Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader, Oikawa Tooru x reader, Tsukishima Kei x reader (okay, you're both kind of the bad cop in this one), Hinata Shouyou x reader

(Reader is referred to as Mom in Tsukishima's, the rest are gender neutral)

Ushijima Wakatoshi

You've just gotten home from the grocery store, and are attempting to put the groceries away while simultaneously preventing an all-out fist fight in the middle of the kitchen over the box of applesauce pouches. It's just the kind of day it's been.

Another shriek splits the air, and you massage your aching temples wearily. Normally, your son and daughter get along pretty well, but today is one of those days when neither of them is in a very good mood, and they've been taking it out on each other all day. Refereeing has become exhausting, and the headache pounding in your skull isn't making things any easier. The sound of the door latch has never been more welcome.

"What is all the yelling about?" The sound of your husband's deep voice immediately silences the squabble, your two children suddenly blinking up at him with the box still clutched between them. Oh, you are so jealous of this ability Wakatoshi has. "Applesauce?" He asks incredulously, plucking the box from their fingers and looking down at them with a frown.

"Sorry, Dad," They chorus meekly.

"Why don't you go to your rooms?" He suggests, in a voice that doesn't invite any arguments. "Start thinking about your actions today, because we'll be having a discussion about it later." They glance at each other before silently turning to do as they're told.

You sigh at the sound of their bedroom doors closing. "Tough day?" Wakatoshi asks, voice turning soft in a way that's only ever reserved for you and the kids. He cups your cheek in his hand, and you nod against it, leaning into his touch.

"Just what I said in the text," You murmur, referring to the exasperated message you'd sent him earlier that afternoon. "They've been at each other's throats all day. I wish I could manage them like you do."

"You do just fine," He runs his hand down your arm comfortingly. "I know they respect you and love you very much."

You nod again, though you're struggling to believe it right at the moment. "I just don't have your gift," You shrug, managing a small smile now that he's home and doing this with you.

"That's why we're a team," He says matter of factly, finally drawing you to him and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I'll get you some pain pills for that headache. After they kick in, we'll have a talk with them together."

"Thank you," You say softly, leaning in for one more kiss. You truly can't imagine doing this with anyone else.

Oikawa Tooru

You've just finished cutting the second apple and put the slices on the plate when your husband dances into the kitchen, your daughters bobbing behind.

"Okay," He sticks his head in the freezer, rummaging around a bit before pulling something out. "Who wants fudge ripple?" He holds up the carton of ice cream as your daughters bounce on their toes.

"Me! Me!" They wave their hands excitedly.

"Tooru," You say his name quietly, gesturing to the apples you'd just finished plating. "We're having apples for a snack tonight," You announce more loudly, plucking the box from your husband's fingers and tucking it back in the freezer.

"But Daddy said we could have ice cream!" The oldest pouts, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Did he?" You ask lightly, quirking an eyebrow at your husband, who shrugs sheepishly. "Did you happen to tell him that we had ice cream this afternoon after we went to the park?"

Suddenly very interested in her toes, she murmurs, "No."

"Oops," He says quietly, shrugging and mouthing a sorry over the tops of their heads. You shake your head with a sigh.

"Sounds like we're having apples tonight, my loves," He says quickly, corralling them to the table to have a seat as you set down the plate of apples. "Why don't you tell me about what kind of ice cream you got this afternoon?" They sulk, but by the time they're tucked in bed, the incident seems mostly forgotten.

"Sorry about the ice cream thing," He apologizes after you've tucked yourself on the couch next to him. "They're sneaky!"

"They certainly are," You huff a soft chuckle, "I wonder where they got it from?" You muse, elbowing him gently in the side.

"Hey," He pouts, a mirror of your girls' pouting faces from earlier. "I won't be tricked next time." He slides an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"We'll see about that," You murmur, knowing your daughters too well to be convinced, but too comfortable pressed against Tooru to care.

Tsukishima Kei

"It's just not fair!" Your son huffs, stomping louder than necessary through the kitchen. "You said Kaito could come over this afternoon, but now all of a sudden he can't?" He's glaring at you across the room.

"I said he could come over if you cleaned your room," You correct, "And you obviously haven't."

"What if I clean it now? Really quick?" He begs, "Then I don't have to tell him you lied to me."

You open your mouth, trying to formulate a response to that twisted logic, when Kei's office door opens.

"No," He says firmly, and your son turns to him, but can't get a word in before he continues. "Kaito is not coming over today, especially after the way you just spoke to your mother. I know you're smarter than that."

"But-" He says weakly, snapping his mouth shut when your husband's lips press into a thin line.

"I know you're not talking back to me as well." He says icily. "First, apologize to Mom. Then you can go clean your room from top to bottom. I want to hear the vacuum running."

Your son nods slowly. "Okay." He turns dutifully and looks at you. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"Thank you," You accept his apology with a nod, and that quickly he's off to his room. You close your eyes for a few moments, trying to quiet your exasperation.

"Sorry I butted in," Kei speaks from beside you though you hadn't heard him move across the room. "I just couldn't stop myself after what he said." His hand goes to the back of your neck, gently massaging the tense muscles there.

"It's fine," You sigh, "It was kind of getting away from me," You admit with a wry smile.

"Sometimes I wonder if this some sort of punishment for what an asshole I was as a kid," He says with a smile pulling at his lips, and you can't help the laughter that bubbles out.

"Well, I'm not sure what I did to deserve it, because I was a perfect angel," You reply smugly, pressing in to kiss him before he can argue.

Hinata Shouyou

You've been hearing slightly suspicious sounds for the last few minutes, but a sudden crash is finally enough to make you put down the shirt you're folding and follow the sound, dreading what you'll find.

"It didn't break!" Your daughter is saying, setting one of the lamps back up on the end table. A volleyball rolls to a stop at your feet, and you look from it to your daughter and your husband.

"Please tell me this isn't what it looks like," You say in a measured voice, "Because it looks like you were playing volleyball in my house." It's hard to say which of them looks more frightened.

"We weren't playing volleyball!" She pipes up nervously, "Dad was just showing me how to dig a spike like the one Bokuto-san made in yesterday's match."

"Oh?" You turn to your husband, who looks like he'd willingly jump in a hole if it were to open up in the floor. "Shouyou," Your voice is still even, which seems to make him squirm even more. "Can you tell me why, for even a moment, that seemed like something to do in the living room?"

"I, uh, didn't think about it?" He releases a nervous chuckle. "It wasn't her idea at all, I swear. It was all me." He valiantly takes the blame.

"My darling," You turn your attention to your daughter, "You should know better than to listen to your dad sometimes." You sigh. "Just take this back to the garage, okay?" She grabs the ball and dashes away, glad to be free from your disproving glare.

"I'm really, really sorry, baby!" Your husband immediately gushes, "I know it was stupid! It was, but she asked about it and I was just so excited to show her, I didn't think about it." You're trying hard, but it's almost impossible not to soften at the anguished look on his face.

"Feels like I have two kids sometimes," You can't help a small smile as you step toward him, letting him take your hands.

"I'm really sorry," He repeats, genuinely. "It won't happen again. Volleyballs belong outside," He repeats what has become your mantra.

"Very good," You smile a little wider, unable to resist pressing a small kiss to his lips.

[streetlightyeri]

oklahoma smokeshow ; t.o

"cause you're a small town smokeshow."

w.c.: 6275

content: lovers to enemies (?) to lovers, angst, fluff, do i have to disclose natural disasters lol, death of a family member, no beta, and as always: FMC is named but has no descriptors

-

The thunder rumbled around Harlow, the sky turning blue with every flash of lightning. These circumstances aren’t what she pictured coming back to Oklahoma to be; the forecasted unprecedented storm week seemed like it was less of a random once-in-a-generation weather cell and more like a physical amalgamation of her emotions. She spent the entire plane ride pretending to be asleep with her head covered so the flight attendants didn’t see her tears; her seat partner acted like he didn’t hear the occasional sniffle. Harlow was grateful for that.

The rental she chose was the last truck on the lot: a Toyota Tacoma with an Arkansas license plate. She wanted to kick the metal plate and pretend it was her ex’s University of Arkansas alumni plate. Instead, she pretended to be normal, and climbed in, immediately turning on the seat warmers and relaxing against the leather. She pulled the seat up the farthest it could go; whoever rented before her practically had it brushing against the back row.

She felt like she was back in high school, driving her dad’s truck to Dairy Queen with her friends. Now, she couldn’t even remember the last time she saw a truck. She spent most of her time on the metro or in a yellow taxi. After her and Tyler’s blowup breakup, Harlow declined her full ride admission to University of Oklahoma and accepted a spot at Columbia University. She fantasized about him showing up at the airport to wish her luck; he didn’t. Similar to how she just did, she pretended to be asleep while she cried on the plane to JFK.

Tyler Owens got famous - there was no other way to say it. He was a hot-shot storm chaser with seemingly little regard for the dangers. But Harlow knew; he was calculative and a downright mathematical genius when it came to tornadoes. He completed his degree in meteorology a year early with high honors. He walked summa cum laude. Harlow watched the livestream. When she walked across stage in her powder blue cap and gown, she couldn’t help but wonder if he did the same. Or if he did it when she walked again two years later for her Masters. And again when she walked four and a half years later for her PhD.

She didn’t just run from him: she ran from the town of Clearwater, Oklahoma. Harlow was . . . a smokeshow. There was no denying it. But she was more than just attractive and Prom Queen. She was valedictorian, president of the Beta and Spanish Clubs, the organizer of natural disaster relief programs across the county. But everyone in Clearwater saw her as one thing: Tyler Owens’ pretty girlfriend who would soon be nothing more than a passing face on the street with a baby on her hip with another on the way. And Harlow couldn’t deny that maybe . . . just maybe she would’ve enjoyed that. But there were so many things that she couldn’t do in Clearwater, so many opportunities outside of the county lines.

But Tyler didn’t want that. He found out she applied to more than just UO and laughed at her. He asked what she could possibly want to do that wasn’t already in Clearwater, asked if she thought she’d be able to leave her mom. And Harlow couldn’t answer. She had nothing concrete that she wished for; she had nondescript dreams of moving away. She spent so long being what everyone wanted her to be, she had no clue what else there was to wish for - what else there was to be.

Their argument was one of her core memories, and in the Tacoma, even with the radio on and the thunder nearly shaking the road, she could hear everything like she was there again, that night 2 weeks after Prom as she helped him clean up his gear from his first ride of the season.

-

Tyler threw his rope down against his saddle. “If you hate it here so much, maybe we shouldn’t be together then!”

“Maybe we shouldn’t!”

The empty arena was completely silent. The groan of the tin roof in the gentle breeze was the only thing that interrupted the tense moment.

He swallowed hard, but didn’t move from his spot a few feet away from her. “Is . . . is that what you really want?”

Harlow tried to shrink in on herself, wrapping her arms around her torso, still wearing his sweatshirt. “I don’t - I don’t know, Tyler. The problem is I don’t know what I want, just what everyone else does. It’s just - you can’t understand. You’ll never be able to understand.” She dropped her arms and opted to lean against one of the bull shoots, the cold, rusty metal grounding her.

He just turned around, busying himself with tightening the straps of his gear. He was silent.

“Tyler-”

He shrugged so hard it shut her up, reaching in his pocket and tossing his keys onto the dirt. “Take the truck. I’ll get my keys and my stuff tomorrow. I’ll call for a ride.”

Harlow crossed her arms, “No, I’m not taking your truck.”

“And I’m not having you staying here in the dark waiting for someone to pick you up. So unless you want me to drive you home, take the damn truck.”

Harlow picked the keys up from the dirt. She cried on the way home then in her mom’s lap. After nearly an hour of listening to her daughter cry, Shiloh James brought her daughter to the family laptop and had her sign into her University of Oklahoma admissions portal and deny her spot. Shiloh looked at her diploma from UC Davis hanging on the wall, “Sometimes a fresh start is what you need most.”

-

Now here she was, back in Clearwater for the first time in years. The few times she visited before were quick, a few days at most before she jetted back across the country; she never came during storm season, too afraid to cross paths with him or hear his name.

This time, Harlow had taken a month off work to spend time with her mother. All it took was one call from her mom's nurse Kelly for Harlow to book her plane ride home.

Shiloh scolded Harlow when she learned she took a month of unpaid leave. “Honey, you’re being dramatic. Your coworkers need you more than I do here! Honest. I haven’t felt better.”

Harlow playfully rolled her eyes at her mother and cuddled against her on the couch, pretending once again that she was here for different reasons. “Nah, I think they’ll be just fine.”

She was learning she was really good at pretending. But, maybe she had been all her life.

-

Harlow dropped her mom off at her best friend’s house as was customary per Kelly. Shiloh had long since stopped treatment and no longer cared about keeping distance from her loved ones. So Thursdays became nights for her to spend with Ruth to reminisce on their years together. Harlow planned to spend the night getting drunk and pretending her life wasn’t unraveling, like she wasn’t about to spend the weekend deciding between cedar and mahogany and pine.

Instead, she got a call from a college of hers in New York, Kate.

“Hello?” She answered, not sure what could prompt a call like this at 5pm. The two were work friends, the one the other would drift to during conventions - nothing more. Neither liked talking about anything personal. She could count on one hand the amount of real conversations she’d had with the girl. But perhaps weather could get her mind off the storm brewing in her life.

“Hi, this is Dr. James?” Kate sounded unsure, as though her number may have changed.

After receiving confirmation, Kate started into a spiel about how she was in need of a second opinion on the cells that were forming over the next few days in Oklahoma.

“Wait,” Harlow cut her off, “Are you . . . in Oklahoma?”

Kate swallowed, “Yes, as a favor to a friend. He’s testing out new equipment.”

“I mean - I’m in Oklahoma as well. I can meet with you, if that’s easier. That way I can see the models you’re describing.” Harlow wasn’t sure why she was so ecstatic to help. Maybe she just wanted a distraction, a taste of what Tyler did every day, what prompted him to leave Clearwater just a year after she did.

After half an hour of preparing a bag with her laptop and other essentials for the night she was going to spend at the motel, she was headed towards a town a few dozen miles north. The ride was the same as every ride through the Great Plains: filled with wheat, windmills, and cows. When she finally arrived at the address she was given, Harlow sighed and looked at the backseat, wishing she brought extra blankets. The parking lot was full: there was no chance of her getting a room that night. Nevertheless, she unbuckled, pulling her bag from the passenger side floorboard. She didn’t need to search for the StormParr trucks. They were stark white with the brutalist style logo slapped on every inch of the vehicles. She scanned the group for a second, looking for Kate - or any woman in general.

Kate saw her first, gently waving her over to introduce her to the group. After a while of comparing models and data (most of which was written off by the StormParr team and deemed as rudimentary), Kate got the hint that Harlow was about to snap. In an attempt to mediate, she cut off the tall, broad man while he was in the middle of talking about his data collection, “I’m sorry, but I really do have to run to the restroom. Dr. James, would you mind accompanying me?”

Harlow gave her a thankful look. The two set off to Kate’s room on the second floor. “I’m sorry about all of that. I thought what you said was very helpful. The prediction of rain habits in the area can definitely contribute to the-”

She cut Kate off with a raised hand and a laugh as they ascended. “It’s fine, really. I have a PhD in Climatology. I’m used to being talked over by men. It’s not like they’re paying me, so I don’t really care.”

They were about to start up the second set of stairs when a man called up at Kate, “Well if it isn’t Big City! That was a good call today!”

Harlow would’ve thought they were talking to her if she hadn’t known Kate was surrounded by these same groups of storm chasers for the past couple of days.

Kate rolled her eyes and whispered to her, “Tornado Wrangler crew.”

Harlow felt her eyes blow wide and her blood run cold. She could hear the rushing in her ears and her heart pumping in her chest. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Kate introducing her, “This is Dr. Harlow James.”

She got the nerve to turn to see the group of people. They looked exactly how they did on YouTube - cool, fresh, and close knit. Harlow felt like she was looking into a portal to what her life could’ve been. Harlow swallowed hard, the world spinning around her aside from Tyler. His eyes were locked on hers, his face giving none of his thoughts away. Harlow wasn’t as confident in her own facial features. Of all the things to come out of their mouths, she wasn’t expecting one of his crewmates to know about her.

“Of course we know her!” Boone laughed, “We use her weather mapping patterns to plan our-”

Tyler’s boot connected with his side, making him yelp in pain.

She felt her stomach jolt upwards. Harlow gripped Kate’s arm, whispering one word: “Bathroom.”

The blonde took her up the rest of the stairs. The second the door was unlocked, Harlow made a B-line for the bathroom, falling to her knees and emptying her dinner into the toilet. Kate stood awkwardly at the doorway to her hotel room, acting like she couldn’t hear her colleague vomiting through the door. She walked to Harlow’s duffel bag and rummaged through it until she found her mouthwash.

She mulled over if she should check on her or leave her be and throw the mouthwash bottle into the bathroom like it was a grenade. She was given a few extra moments to decide when a knock interrupted her thoughts. Kate opened the door, expecting Javier coming up to apologize for his crew’s actions towards Harlow but instead was met with Tyler Owens.

She couldn’t hide her surprise, “Oh, um, hello.”

He looked down at her hand and saw the travel sized bottle of Listerine. He tried to peer around her, but Kate pulled the door. He realized how it must’ve looked, “I came to check on her. Is she okay? She looked like she was about to faint.”

It was clear there was a history between the two, but Kate couldn’t tell what exactly it was. She wasn’t sure if she cared either. But she wasn’t about to leave this girl who she brought over. Kate tried to lie, to say that she was fine and just using the restroom, but a particularly violent gag sounded out.

He looked like it took all of his willpower to not push Kate out the way and run to the bathroom. “I just need to make sure she’s okay, alright?”

Kate went to deny him again, but Javier came up the stairs at that moment, talking without looking until he got right to her door, “Hey, Kate, I want to apologize about the way they treated Dr. James. It was entirely unprofession- oh . . .”

Javier sized up Tyler, whose jaw was locked. He turned to Kate instead. “Where’s Dr. James? I want to apologize personally.”

“Bathroom.”

He nodded in understanding when he heard another gag and Kate slightly raised the bottle in her hand.

“Please,” Tyler pleaded. “Let me check on her. She will dry heave until she passes out. She’s done it since we were kids.”

Kate wanted to say no, but the sounds were not letting up; if anything, they were getting worse. And she was not good with comforting someone or with bodily fluids. She glanced between the two, eventually stepping outside and handing Tyler the bottle. “Leave the door open.”

“Of course,” he assured her before bolting to the door. He knocked softly and was answered by a dry heave. He swallowed thickly, his voice soft, “Harlow?”

She made no noise of acknowledgement. He knocked again to nothing. He tried the handle, and it was miraculously unlocked. Once the door swung open, he was met with Harlow on her knees, arms wrapped around the toilet, dry heaving so hard her back arched up and down. He got on one knee next to her, gently running a hand down her back as he said her name. Her body shook with another heave. He pulled the hand towel off the bar on the wall and ran it under the faucet before wringing it out and placing it across her burning neck. That seemed to snap her out of the cyclical vomit-dry heave moment she was having. Her breathing started to deepen and even out as she reached up to flush the toilet twice. The redness in her face started to recede. She braced herself to stand, but didn’t have the strength to do so yet and almost stumbled head first into the counter.

Tyler was quick, “Whoa, whoa, darl- Harlow.” His hands reached out to steady her against the counter. She took deep breaths as she regained her bearings, running her hands under the cool water. She washed her mouth out, taking a swig of the mouthwash he offered. She splashed her face with water. She rubbed away the residual tears that formed during her vomit spell. Her mascara was still smudged underneath her eyes.

“Can you uh, grab my toothbrush and a shirt?” He didn’t need any explanation as to why she couldn’t get it herself. He brought them to her after practically emptying her duffel bag contents onto the bed. He ran a soothing hand up and down her back as she kept her eyes on the running water. She took another swig of mouthwash and swallowed it for good measure. He closed his eyes and turned away as she changed her shirt.

“You good?” He asked. She wanted to throw up again at how soft his voice was.

She nodded. She glanced up and met his eyes for a brief second before wiping her nose with a strangled laugh, her voice raspy, “Great first impression.”

She wiped up the water droplets on the counter with the towel he gave her earlier, doing anything to not look at him or acknowledge how close he was after a decade of nothing.

“Harlow.” His voice was still soft, but firm. “What did those guys say to you?”

She scoffed and wiped her wet hands on her shirt before walking out the bathroom. “Nothing I can’t ignore. I’m used to it.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, putting her things back in her bag that were strewn across the bed, “The usual. No one taking my models seriously because I was the only female graduate in my PhD program and because I’m the only person using them.”

“I use them.”

She pulled the zipper, staring so hard at her bag Tyler thought it might burst into flames, “So I’ve heard.”

There was a beat of silence. “Why’re you working with guys like that?”

That made her look up, eyebrows knitted. “I’m not. I have no clue who they are. I came here as a favor for Kate. We’re professional acquaintances. It was a coincidence we were both here.”

She said too much with that because he immediately asked, “Why are you back in Oklahoma?”

She kept her response short and guarded, “Seeing mom.”

Silence stretched on for an awkward amount of time. Harlow went back to looking at her bag. Tyler’s eyes never left hers.

“Let me take you get food. You just flushed yours down the toilet.”

“No!” Harlow almost jumped back as she heard those words. “No, no, I’m fine.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “When’s the last time you ate?”

“I ate on the way here.”

“And that’s gone. Before that?”

Harlow tried to do the math in her head. She skipped lunch because she was so worried about getting her mother bathed for her night with Ruth. She picked at an egg this morning but couldn’t stomach it, too aware of the texture of it. She wasn’t about to tell him she hadn’t digested a meal since the night before, so she opted for “A while.”

“I’m taking you get food. Come on.”

There was little reason for Harlow to argue - if she said she was going to bed he’d insist on walking her to her room and then she’d have to admit she didn’t have one, or that she was going to get food herself and he’d insist it was pointless to go alone if he was offering to drive.

That’s how the two ended up at a 24/7 diner, cramped into the only booth available next to the front window where everyone walking past could stare at them. It felt very similar to how Harlow felt when the two were a couple in Clearwater: watched, judged, and laughed at.

The two did not talk. Harlow became more comfortable with looking up, so instead of staring at the plate the entire meal, she was able to get as far up as his nose. His eyes were off limits in her mind. If she looked at them this close up, she was sure she’d feel everything she felt that night in the arena come rushing back.

-

She wasn’t sure how the two ended up in a pasture across from the diner, but she had made the mistake of looking at his eyes when his hand covered hers when the bill came. And she did feel all of those emotions come rushing back. It felt like their argument picked up right where it left off. The tall grass tickled her legs that were now accustomed to fancy lotions.

“I LEFT BECAUSE IT WASN’T FAIR! IT STILL ISN’T!” She shouted at him, hoping no one across the street could hear.

“What are you talking about?” Tyler scoffed.

“I left because the only thing I could ever be in Clearwater was ‘Tyler Owen’s girlfriend.’”

“Would that really have been so bad? A picket fence? A few babies?”

“No! It wouldn’t have! But you got to be Tyler Owens. Hot-shot bullrider extraordinaire. Loved by everyone. I was nothing more than the town smokeshow, and that’s all I would ever be.”

“You chose to go to college!”

“And look where you ended up! Mr. Summa Cum Laude! Why was it okay for you to go and not me?”

Tyler couldn’t hide the shock on his face. “You . . . you kept up with me?”

Harlow nodded. “Yup. Watched the livestream of you graduating. Even though you started a year after me, we still ended up graduating the same year.”

“But why keep up? You left. You went to New York.”

“I was going to UO at first. Wanted to stay close to you. They were gonna pay for everything, can you believe that?” She let out a humorless laugh. “Then we broke up. And my mom told me to go to New York. Get a fresh start. Turns out I fucked up that fresh start, too.”

He knit his brows. “What do you mean?”

Harlow fell onto the tailgate, her feet dangling. She tried to speak but only a sob came out. She hung her head and squeezed her eyes shut, a tear running down her nose and falling onto the dirt. Tyler walked over slowly and apprehensively took a seat next to her. She didn’t move to bite his head off or push him off. After a few seconds, she was able to compose herself to say the words she’d been refusing to say. The ones she refused to repeat to Nurse Kelly. The ones she knew her mom didn’t like. “She’s dying, Tyler. That’s why I came home - to plan her funeral. The doctors gave her until the end of the month. I-I left and never came back, and now I’m never gonna see her again.”

“Oh, baby,” his heart clenched. Of all the people in the world that deserved something like that, Shiloh was the last one. She raised Harlow alone after her father skipped town when she was two. She baked homemade cakes for him on his birthday and included him in Christmas and donated every penny she could to those in Clearwater who needed it. He wrapped his arms around her, and she broke. She held onto his button down and let out the sobs she’d been pretending to not be holding back, the ones she muffled in her pillow at night so she didn’t wake her mom.

She would’ve continued if it hadn’t been for the breeze she felt. It was warm. Like the ones before it, but different. The heat was weighing the breeze down, not being carried by it. She slowly pulled away from Tyler. He tried to say something, but she held her hand out to quiet him. She slowly dismounted from the tailgate, landing on the ground with a thud. Tyler made significantly less noise when he stepped off. Harlow pulled her hair tie out, slipping the band onto her wrist before leaning down and snapping a few blades of grass from the ground.

“Harlow, what are you-” He shut up when she let go, the blades flying away. He understood what spooked her. He suddenly felt the heaviness in the air, the air blowing her hair in the same direction as the grass. Heat lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating a monster cloud. Tyler grabbed her upper arm, “Get in the truck. Now.”

She nodded, racing to the passenger side just as the wind began to pick up. Heading back to the motel was too risky and too far. The best bet was to find shelter in town. Tyler started down the main stretch of road, Harlow screaming out the window for people to find shelter; if it was just her in her rental, she knew that no one would take her seriously. She had no fame and was no household name, but the red truck she was in gave her all the credibility she needed. Pedestrians heeded her warning and turned, fleeing to the nearest buildings. Power began to flicker across the city, darkness rolling in waves as transformers blew. The tornado siren started its song. Tyler had to intervene by rolling the passenger side window up on his control panel once the hail started, Harlow getting pelted as she stuck her head out to yell warnings.

“The hail is enough extra warning for them, sweetheart. Look for a shelter we can go into.”

Her eyes scanned, but the lack of power made it hard to see anything, even with the flashes of lightning. But then she pointed to the right, “Look! A motel! They most likely have one!”

He pulled into the parking lot, not caring how shittily he parked. But to the two’s horror, there were still three people in the lobby and they were soon joined by a mother and daughter. The young woman was laughing at their nervous state.

“Chill, guys, 9 times out of 10 there’s not even a tornado.”

The other two men were arguing about a bad Yelp review. Tyler instructed her to find a shelter, stating he’d round up everyone in the lobby. Harlow never ran so fast in her life. She checked every room, but found no doors that led to a storm shelter. She felt her heart fall to her stomach as she returned to the lobby to tell them they’d have to try and stick it out there. But out the corner of her eyes she saw the empty pool. “Tyler! Over here!”

He guided them all to the door she was at. “We have to run for it.”

The mother, daughter, and shop owner nodded. The other two scoffed, refusing to admit that a tornado was making its way down main street. Tyler nodded to Harlow and she unlatched the door. It swung off its hinges and flew across the parking lot, then she patted the mother and daughter to go, then the clerk.

“This is your last chance! Come with us!”The two others shook their heads, finally starting to understand the severity, but too scared to venture out. Tyler could not wait any longer; he grabbed Harlow’s arm and pushed her out before going last. They caught up quickly, each helping the other three down the ladder.

Her voice was getting sucked away by the howling wind, “Get to the pipes! Hold on! Do not let go!”

She tried to help Tyler down, but he pulled his arm back. “Absolutely not! Harlow, get in and do not wait for me!”

There was no time to argue. She could hash this out with him when they made it out of this. He grabbed onto her torso and helped her descend. She immediately ducked down, making a run for the pipes. Tyler was right behind her, until he wasn’t: the clerk stood up to see the tornado behind them and got sucked to the middle of the pool. He held onto the ladder, but had to let go and duck when a vending machine flew towards him. Tyler fell to his belly, making his way around the machine, reaching his hand out for the man. But the man ignored Tyler’s warning. He got to his knees to reach Tyler’s hand faster. Harlow watched in horror as the man hit the side of the pool with a crunch before getting sucked away.

She was crying just as the mom and daughter were; the screws of the pipes shook with the strength of the tornado that was rapidly gaining on them. Tyler was slowly making his way back over to the group on his belly. She screamed his name, but it was covered by the sound of a train horn. She hooked her arm through the pipe and extended her body as far out as she could, trying to reach him.

He wanted to shout at her, to tell her to get back against the pipes, that he wasn’t letting her mom bury her, that he wasn’t going to bury her. But if she hadn’t done that, he’d be dead right now. Just as he made it back to her and wrapped her body in his, a truck flew into the pool and wedged itself above them. He could feel her heartbeat hammering; he tried to tighten his grip on her, his biceps protecting her head as he ducked his own. He whispered soothing, sweet nothings against her head.

The winds slowed, but her breathing was still hard. He broke first, trying to move to peek around the truck to ensure they were in the clear, but Harlow moved her hands to grip one of his arms. He squeezed one of her hands and placed it back on the pipe. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

She returned to her death grip on the pipe. He was back seconds later to pry her off and bring her above. The mother and daughter thanked them with tears in their eyes. Harlow knew she should be embarrassed at how she was clinging to Tyler the same way the girl was clinging to her mother. But he didn’t seem to mind. He let her cling to him as they waited for the rest of his crew to arrive for relief efforts. Once they did, he sat her in the passenger seat of his truck. He tried to help set up tables with food and water, but Lily shooed him away with two bottles of water.

She nodded in the direction of his truck where Harlow was on the phone, her body shaking from the adrenaline crash. “She needs you more than we do. Get her back safe. We have it from here.”

He glanced between Lily and Harlow. He wanted to ask if she was sure, but he knew Lily wouldn’t let him leave if they truly needed his help, so he thanked her and went to start up the truck just as she was hanging up the phone.

“She okay?” He didn’t have to ask who it was. There was only one person who Harlow went to for comfort.

She wiped at her cheek, “Yeah, yeah. Not even a drop of rain. She’s with Ruth.”

That made Tyler let out a belly laugh. “Are we sure they didn’t cause this?”

Harlow laughed wetly, “I would not bet money against it.”

-

When they arrived at the motel, Tyler was adamant on walking her to her room and getting her settled. It was nearing 1AM. Harlow looked at her lap and scratched at the nape of her neck. “So, uh, about that . . .”

He cocked an eyebrow, motioning with his hand for her to continue.

“I was gonna sleep in my rental. There’s no vacancy.”

He looked at her incredulously, “You’re joking, right?”

She stayed quiet.

“So you were just planning on getting here and sleeping in your truck?”

She shook her head, “No, I just wasn’t expecting every storm chaser in America to be at this motel. That or I was going to go home. Kate said there was still vacancy when we talked on the phone. She even verified that there were a handful of rooms left.”

“Well you’re not sleeping in your truck, absolutely not.” He turned his truck off, grabbing her duffle bag he threw into the backseat earlier.

She looked at him questioningly, holding her hand out for her bag, “Then I’m going home.”

“No. You are not driving half an hour in the dark right after you just waited out a tornado in a pool, especially not to be home alone. And you’re not sleeping in the backseat of an untinted rental in a parking lot, especially not one where I have confirmation that there are people here who do not respect you. You’re staying in my room.”

“I can’t!”

“Relax, I’ll sleep in the chair.”

Harlow felt her face flush. “That’s - that’s not what I meant. You paid for the room. You need to sleep in a bed without having to worry about your ex-girlfriend who dry heaves as an anxiety response.”

He rounded the truck by the time she finished talking. He reached over and unbuckled her, grabbing her hand to help her down. He shut the door behind her. “I didn’t care before, don’t care now. Come on, we need showers.”

“I’m sleeping on the chair then.”

“Yeah, sure.” He replied sarcastically.

He all but forced her to go first; while she washed all the dirt and mud off herself, he prepared a makeshift bed on the chair with bedding he found in the closet. It smelled of mildew, but there was no way he was giving her those blankets and keeping the ones on the bed for himself.

When she came out in a towel, he nearly tripped over the footstool he was adding padding to. He slammed his eyes shut and turned around. “A heads up would’ve been nice.”

He could hear the embarrassment in her voice, “I said your name like 4 times but you didn’t respond. I thought you were asleep. I have shorts on, I was just coming to get my other shirt from my bag.”

He felt silly talking to the wall with his eyes closed. “Don’t tell me you mean Throw Up shirt.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

He groaned in frustration, reaching blindly for the pile of clothes he set out for himself. He felt for his shirt and tossed it in her direction. The noise of it hitting the wall let him know he missed, but he heard her shuffling to pick it up.

“Thank you.”

-

Tyler was about to scold her again when he opened the bathroom door, steam wafting out into the room, but found her asleep in the chair. She was curled into herself, legs pulled to her chest and secured by the mildew blanket. He shook his head in disbelief and pulled at the blanket to try and wake her up. She groaned and pulled the blanket back against herself.

“Harlow. Wake up. Take the bed.”

She simply groaned in response, turning to tuck her head farther against the chair.

“Baby, I’m not playing this game. Take the bed.”

Her words were almost incoherent, but he managed to decipher them, “If I’m in th’ bed, then you will be too. M’not takin’ from you.”

“Suit yourself, then.” He said, placing one arm under her back and the other under her knees, lifting her and bringing her to the bed.

He let her get settled and couldn’t ignore her shivers. He reduced the fan speed on the AC before climbing into bed behind her, his back to the door. He kept distance between the two of them, but she was shaking so hard it nearly turned the mattress into a massage bed.

“C’mere.” He hooked his arm around her torso and pulled her into himself. He was still pulsing with warmth from the shower. “You wouldn’t be cold if you had used hot water for your shower.”

He wasn’t aware if she was conscious or if she was acting on instinct, but she curled up into him, fitting like the puzzle piece he’d been missing for a decade.

-

Two and a half weeks passed. And so did her mother. Kelly announced her.

Her first call was the coroner’s office. Her second was Tyler. It had been radio silence since that night in the motel. He walked her to her car and made her promise to text her when she got home safe; aside from that, Tyler was trying to mentally piece himself back together enough to go back to never seeing Harlow James again.

The phone hadn’t even finished its first ring before he picked up. She was sobbing and incoherent, but he knew. He promised her he’d be there as soon as he could; he beat the police. He held her as she sobbed for her mom on the lawn as they wheeled her out the house. She spent every moment since that night with her mom, even those nights at Ruth’s. She savored every moment with the woman who raised her, but it wasn’t enough. She had too many memories of New York, and not enough of her mother. Her visits were so infrequent that her mother's weight loss was stark instead of gradual. But she knew if she had the chance to do it all again, her mother would be the one telling her to do it, that in order to find herself, she had to start anew.

Tyler was one of the pallbearers. After he did his duty, he found his place right back next to her. He held her while she cried, while she laughed, and while she sat there blankly. Everyone in town talked about how good it was to see the two together again despite the circumstances. And Harlow found herself wondering if maybe her mother knew this was how it was going to end all along. That she could be happy in this town. That the storm he caused would only be tamed by him.

And maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t be pretending anymore.

[sunshineandspencer]

Cowboy hat rule, Part 4 (Tyler Owens, Twisters)

A/N: Let’s put it this way, I don’t remember writing this. But it certainly exists so you may have it, I want to rewatch this movie completely legally🏴‍☠️, but I’m not at home and I can’t. Physically weeping as I type this.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader.

Summary: In between butting heads with Javi’s team and running a successful YouTube channel based entirely around tornadoes, Tyler Owens is introduced to the most interesting woman he’s seen in a good while - and her sister.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: kind of suggestive (honestly not sure, it’s pretty late and my brain doesn’t work), minor swearing, I’m beginning to forget the movie so forgive me, very limited knowledge of America (I’m English).

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

I have redone the form for the taglist now that I’m apparently expanding from Criminal Minds

A rodeo, he brought her to a rodeo. 

And not just any rodeo, but one in the middle of tornado valley. For the amount of tornadoes this place gets, there are a lot of people here. It makes her nervous. 

Thankfully, there are idiots on horses to keep her entertained, and reminiscing about her childhood. 

At some point, Tyler leaned over. Pressing his shoulder to hers and ducking his head so she could hear him. His breath just ghosting her ear. 

“Not your first rodeo?”

“Not even close.”

Her eyes flicked to his, grinning up at him. He’s certain the sight of her smiling at him is going to be seared in his brain forever. 

Especially when she shuffled closer, so that she could be heard. Their thighs pressed together nearly as close as their shoulders. He could smell the faint traces of her perfume, he wishes she’d put some on before they’d left.

“Daddy used to compete in rodeos, up until we were eleven. He had an accident, and mom told him that if he ever did it again it wouldn’t be the bulls he had to worry about.”

He loves her mom, right now she’s the greatest woman in the world. Besides the pretty woman that she created, sat pressed against him. 

Her eyes went back to the rodeo, but his didn’t, watching her profile and wondering how he got so.. smitten.

Nudging her with his shoulder, he gave that bright grin - a real, happy grin that people are accustomed to. 

“I’m learning all sorts about you Alpine.”

“That you are, and yet you remain an enigma.”

“Aww, you don’t have to go about using all kinds of fancy words, you can just call me pretty.”

They both laughed at that, hushed and slightly giggled. Like a pair of schoolchildren mucking about in assembly and didn’t want to get caught. 

Leaning into each other, wondering why everything feels so much funnier when they’re together. 

But then she nudged him, telling him to actually tell her something about himself.

“I used to compete too, got stomped in the head a little too much and figured college would do me a little better.” He fidgeted with his watch, fitting it properly to his wrist. “I don’t mean to pry, but since we’re in a sharing mood, what’s up with Kate and Javi?”

She gave a long suffering sigh, and he realised he might’ve just hit a sensitive subject. But before he can tell her not to worry about it, she’s smiling at him. 

She’d leant away now, and he doesn’t like it, leaning with her arms on the back of the seats, her legs crossed and no longer against his. 

Is it selfish? To want her close again? Because he can be selfish if that’s what it takes. 

“He’s always had a thing for her. We used to work together, a group of us. Me and Javi were dating, Kate had her boyfriend, but I knew he loved her. I looked a lot more like her then.. I was a replacement but that was fine because at least I could pretend I was loved.”

Giving Tyler a soft smile, she realised that was probably a little more than he bargained for. 

Not knowing that he was currently cycling through all the ways he could murder the guy and shove him into a tornado to make it look like an accident. 

He could do it, it’s not hard to shove a dead body into a tornado when you drive into them for a living.

“Maybe he’ll finally get his head out his ass and ask her out. I doubt it though, he’s terrified of rejection.”

Tyler nodded, eyebrows furrowed, and then leant back with her. Arms going around the back of the chairs, fingers dusting her shoulder. 

Somehow, even that small touch was enough for her body to become instantly aware of the lingering heat from when they’d been pressed together. 

Then he gave her another one of those smiles, and she could’ve melted straight through the plastic. 

“If you want, I could run him over and send him up into a tornado. Let God and the weather do their things.”

She laughed - thank God she laughed - and he’s certain that he’s found something more beautiful than any tornado he’d ever chased in his entire life. 

And when she calmed down to look at him, smile still playing at those pretty kissable lips, her hands swatted out against his chest. 

“Don’t make it sound like you murder people so often, I have to get back in the truck with you.”

“Ahh, don’t worry about that Alpine. You’re too pretty to murder, can’t have the world bereft of that face now can we?”

Before she can answer, a swirl of leaves assault the audience, including them. Leaves that, really, were too violent to have just been caught up in a gust of wind. 

Picking one up, she crumpled the leaves and then opened her palm. The way they spread out left her nervous. 

“Were you tracking out this way?”

Looking to him nervously, she didn’t like that look on his face. Because they had been, but from the data, even Kate said the one out this way shouldn’t form anything too bad. 

Maybe the conditions for the tornado improved, because it definitely seems like something had touched down. By the way the bleachers are rattling. 

He didn’t answer either, just looking around at all the people here, calculating the tragedies if something did set down. 

But it hadn’t, or else they would’ve gotten—

All at the same time the tornado warnings sounded on their phones, and everyone began to panic, including her. 

Snapped out of it by Tyler taking her hand and getting her up. Pulling her through the crowd. 

“Come on, we need to find shelter!”

It’s hard to hear over the wind, and when she heard shit start flying off behind them, her blood felt sharp in her veins and she kept up the pace next to him. 

Glad he’s got her hand in his or she’s not sure how fast she could run. 

“I don’t- I don’t go into tornadoes, I do the data. I don’t go into the fucking things! I’m not you, I’m not used to this.”

He pulled her to a stop just inside a motel parking area, thankfully covered for now. Grabbing her shoulders and looking at her sincerely, realising that she really was scared. 

He knew she stayed back, he didn’t know why, but the genuine terror on her face said enough. 

“You’ll be alright, I promise. I won’t let you get hurt by this thing. But we need to get to shelter, okay?”

As he started pulling her along, all the noise rushed back to her and made her feel sick. Aware of the crashes and the screams, and the drag of metal on metal as the motel threatened to break apart. 

A woman was trying to get her daughter into the car, and she dragged Tyler to a stop. 

“No! No, don’t get in your car!! Get out, come here!”

They did, thank God, and joined them in the motel. Shoving past the idiot at the desk who clearly doesn’t know what’s going on. 

Everyone talking all over each other about basements or shelters. 

She was going a little haywire, and caught onto the crash of a metal gate swinging back and forth. The pool. It’s emptied and the wall would’ve been opened for maintenance. 

There’d be an alcove for them to huddle in and hopefully things to hold onto. 

Grabbing Tyler’s arm and shouting over everyone else. 

“Come on! We haven’t got time to argue, follow me!”

Shouldering open the door, she knew the woman and her child were close behind. As well as the clerk, while Tyler was trying to convince the two idiots that there was actually a tornado. 

Helping the woman into the pool, both her and her daughter were sobbing, not that she blamed them. It’s a miracle that she isn’t. 

Once the little girl was safely in her mom’s arms, she motioned for them to get to the end of the pool. 

Turning around to look for Tyler, she felt his hands on her waist from behind, easing her quickly towards the ladder to get into the pool. Allowing herself a moment to breathe. 

Until she caught sight of that couple trying to drive away, getting caught up in the tornado that is way too close for comfort.

Hurrying down, she reached up for Tyler, half wanting him to just jump down, and get to safety as quickly as possible. Pressing a hand to his back to stable him as he dropped down. 

Both of them rush over to alcove with the woman and her daughter. 

Showing them where to hold, and that she should keep her daughter’s eyes covered from any debris. And not to let go or look around for any reason. 

As she started to get a grip on the pipes, she heard a shriek from the motel clerk. He had tried to stand up while Tyler was helping him, and was sent to the shallow end. 

Then the idiot tried again and was dragged off into the sky. Her heart was heavy in her throat as she watched Tyler turn and start to crawl back to them. Fighting against the wind. 

Holding on tight to the pipes, but leaning out with her hand as far as she could go. Desperately reaching for him. 

Especially when a bus or something landed in the pool and started to tip over them. He’d be crushed. 

She’s too panicked to really think about anything other than making sure he grabbed her hand. Because she wasn’t losing anyone else - not him. 

As soon as his palm connected to hers, she pulled hard, to give him that small bit of leverage he needed right as the bus fell. 

He pressed up behind her, keeping both her, and the woman pinned to the pipes, holding on as best he could. They got a little more cover from the bus, thankfully, but the wind was still bad. 

With one arm still curled around the pipes, her other reached back to get a handful of his shirt. He was not going anywhere. 

Once it was over, all of them soaked and panting, and pretty injured from projectiles, they finally let go. 

Of the pipes, anyway. She couldn’t let go of his shirt yet, even as his hands found her waist. Digging in, to help her stand and reassure himself they’re still alive. 

Once they’d stood, and stumbled out from around the bus, they walked up to the shallow end to look around. 

The town - the rodeo - had been decimated. 

And with his hands still comfortably on her waist, she eased the grip on his shirt. Finally turning and wrapping her arms around him. Squeezing as tight as she could to try and now reassure herself. 

They’re both alive; they’re both okay. 

He hugged her back just as tightly, and she’s not sure if it’s the adrenaline from surviving, but she never wants to be anywhere but his arms ever again. 

Want more?! Good!

[upat4amwiththemoon]

I just saw a tiktok and I immediately needed to send you a request with wandanat and daughter reader 😭

(congrats for your driver license btw)

R is dating a girl but she's hiding that from her moms cause she knows they would be overprotective and make the girl run away with too many questions and all

Lets say one night she comes home after a party and her girlfriend walk her to her door, and since y/n drank a bit she forgets about the doorbell camera and wandanat see their daughter kissing the girl goodbye (make it cute please please🙏) and you can choose their reactions and all feel free to change anything if you want to write this 💕

Ring camera

Summary: Caught in the act.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x female!reader, WandaNat x daughter!reader

Warnings: being drunk

Word count: 1582

a/n: ahh I absolutely love this idea!! I made Kate the girlfriend, hope that’s okay :)

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

With groans and grumbles, Kate finally manages to drag Y/N from her car to the front door of her house. “You should be glad I know you so well.” Kate mumbles, holding her arms tightly around Y/N’s waist so she wouldn’t fall.

She decided to be the designated driver, even though her girlfriend really wanted them to drink together at Gwen’s parents are gone house party, but Kate knows Y/N has a tendency to over drink and she’d be unable to walk home.

Y/N giggles, “I’m so lucky to have you.” She slings her arms up to wrap the around Kate’s neck, almost slapping her in the process due to her poor coordination. “You’re the bestest best girlfriend.” She has a dopy smile on her face.

The annoyance leaves Kate’s body quickly. She can only be happy when her girlfriend is looking at her like that, like a cute puppy who is full of love. “You’re the bestest girlfriend.” She argues back playfully, her hand rubbing Y/N’s back gently.

“Nuh uh.” She shakes her head. Her lower lip is between her teeth as she stares at the beauty in front of her. “I wish I could sleep next to you.” She whispers.

“I know.” Kate moves one of her hands up to Y/N’s head, her fingers tangling with her hair. “Me too, but we’ll hang out tomorrow.”

“Ye-“ she gets interrupted by a yawn. It makes Kate laugh.

“Will you be able to make it to your bed on your own?”

“I will, don’t you worry.”

She shakes her head at the grin on Y/N’s lips. Kate pulls her into a sweet kiss, holding her steady so she wouldn’t stumble too much during it. Y/N’s fingers play with Kate’s hair while they spend a good few minutes on the porch, kissing each other.

When they finally pull away, Y/N tightens her hold around Kate’s neck and leans her cheek to her shoulder, craving to be as close to her as possible. Even though Kate should be leaving soon so Wanda and Natasha don’t catch them out on their porch together, she tightens her hold as well, just as desperate to feel the warmth on her body.

“Your mums might wake up.” Kate’s voice is quieter due to being pressed against the top of Y/N’s head. “They aren’t supposed to see us.”

“I know.” Her voice is whiny, she really doesn’t want to leave this moment.

Chuckling, Kate pulls away slowly, giving Y/N one more kiss before opening the door with her keys. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hands the keys to Y/N, who is pouting by the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Y/N’s is much lower now that the door open. She knows her moms wake up to the smallest of sounds. “Sleep well.”

“Good night, babe.” Kate walks back to her car, and the door closes.

Natasha stares at her phone screen, where the Ring doorbell camera feed is still going, while Wanda is looking at her wife’s face. “She’s dating Kate.” She states.

“She’s dating Kate.”

The two stay quiet as they sit on their couch, empty breakfast plates on the small table in front of them. One full plate is waiting on the kitchen table, it’s for Y/N once she finally wakes up.

“She was out drinking.” Natasha mumbles, closing her phone and putting it away. She rubs her face with a sigh. Her daughter isn’t supposed to be out drinking with her girlfriend yet.

“She isn’t too far from being able to drink legally.” Wanda has a pointed look, letting Natasha know she heard her thoughts. “I’m not liking the drinking part, but I guess she’s old enough to date?” The sentence comes out as a question. Truth to be told, she’s thinking the exact same thing Natasha is. In her mind, Y/N is still their little girl.

Natasha turns to look at her, by the look of her face, it’s clear she doesn’t believe Wanda. “It’s one thing to be dating and another to be hiding it from us. How long have they been together anyway?”

“Long enough to say I love you.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down at all.”

Shrugging, Wanda leans her back fully to the couch. She’s biting the inside of her cheek. It’s not that she has never wondered about Y/N dating someone, but now that the scenario is actually reality, she doesn’t know how to handle it. Especially since Y/N has been clearly hiding the relationship from them.

“I mean, we need to talk to her,” she runs her hand through her hair, “and Kate too.”

“Oh yeah. I want to know what her intentions are.” Natasha huffs before turning towards the stairs, hearing a door open and close.

Slow steps start coming towards the living room. When Y/N steps into the living room, she tries to clear up her face from the fatigue and hangover she’s feeling, which obviously doesn’t go unnoticed by the two. “Morning.” She mumbles with a small smile.

“Good morning.” Wanda and Natasha’s gaze follow Y/N as she picks up her plate and goes to sit at the dining table. “Could you come eat in the living room.”

With a frown, Y/N puts the chair back in it place and plops down to a loveseat next to the couch. “What’s up?” She starts nibbling her food, her appetite not entirely there because of last night’s activities.

“We,” Natasha glances at Wanda, “saw something interesting today.” Y/N hums, not getting where she is going with this. “This something was recorded by the Ring camera, on our front door.”

It takes a while, but after a moment, Y/N’s eyes widen and her whole face turns warm. She was too drunk to remember the camera on their doorbell yesterday, but now, everything that happened on that porch is rushing back to her memories. “Right.” She sets her plate to the table, clearing her throat. Her eyes avoid the burning haze of her mothers’.

“Would you like to tell us anything?”

“Hm, I-“ she opens and closes her mouth. The right words for this kind of situation aren’t coming to her mind. “Me and Kate are dating?” Her voice is high pitched as she kets out an uncomfortable laugh at the end of her sentence.

”How long?”

“Like,” she plays with her fingers, “nine months.”

“Nine?” Natasha’s brows fly up her forehead. “You two have been dating for almost a year and you haven’t told us.”

“Why did you keep it a secret?” Wanda asks.

“We haven’t even got a chance to talk to Kate about this!”

“This is something we’re supposed to know as your parents.”

“Hiding things in th-“

“This is why I didn’t tell you!” Y/N interrupts her moms’ ramblings. “Because you’re so protective and you’d scare her away.” She slumps her body on the seat, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares at the wall near her, too nervous to look at her parents.

Wanda and Natasha turn to look at each other, as if they have no clue what their daughter is talking about. “We don’t scare people away.” Natasha scoffs.

“Yes you do! You interrogated my first crush so much she stopped talking to me completely.”

“We thought she changed schools.”

“Because you two would’ve probably killed her if you knew what actually happened.” She rolls her eyes. Her moms don’t dare to argue against that, both knowing that’s most likely true. “I just-“ she sighs, “I love, Kate. I don’t want her to leave because you two scare her away.”

Tilting her head, Wanda leans her body closer to grab Y/N’s hand. “Okay, we know we can be a bit overprotective sometimes,” Y/N gives her a look, “fine, most of the times, but you are still our little girl and we want to keep you safe.”

“Which means we need to meet Kate.”

“Fine, but you can’t interrogate her.” She stares at Natasha with a pointed look, challenging her mother, and Natasha never backs down from a challenge.

“We need to know what her intentions are.”

“If you do, you three can’t be alone, I’ll be there with you when you ask these questions.”

“Okay, we get to ask any questions we want.”

“You can ask two questions and then we’re going to my room.”

“Eight.”

Wanda rolls her eyes at the back and forth argument, but lets them settle it on their own.

“Five, and the questions go through me first.”

With a slight grin, Natasha nods, she’s oddly proud of her daughter’s ability to negotiate. ��Alright, but the door needs to be open then centimeters and you can’t be here alone, one of us has to be home.”

Y/N groans at the rules, but accepts them, she knows those rules are nonnegotiable. “Fine,” she mumbles, “if she runs away after this I’ll be mad at you forever.” She says while standing up, ready to go back to her room to ask Kate over.

“If she runs away she isn’t right for you!” Wanda calls out after her.

“Blahblahblah.” She mumbles too quietly for the two women to hear before closing the door after here. There is a slight smile on her face either way, she’s kind of glad the most important people in her life can finally meet each other.

[lexirosewrites]

I started watching too many videos abt human pregnancy & pets... & this thought wouldn't leave me

Steve & Eddie aren't mated yet, but they're living together, plan to mate, r already engaged, planning to maybe have a wedding or elope depending on how much a wedding would cost, when they adopt a dog (specifically a scottish deerhound bc I dream abt owning this breed in my wildest fantasy & what is fanfic if not wish fulfillment) after moving into a house they bought with the hush money

They love this dog, they did a lot of research into ethical breeders & how best to care for her breed, they've trained her in basics before moving onto more complicated commands & finally going thru a process to train her in the basics of emotional support (bc both of them have nightmares)

her full name is Gandalf the Gray Munson but they've both ended up just calling her Gray, for the most part Gray likes both of her owners equally she'll sit w Eddie as he paints minis or writes, she'll follow Steve around the kitchen or go with him on his morning run, & she'll sit w her owners as they watch something or try to dance w them when they listen to music, she even guards the door to their bedroom when either of them goes into heat/rut & will only move when a human she trusts comes to pick her up so they can take care of her without her owners worrying

Steddie finally elope & have a party w their closest family & friends afterwards, they exchange mating bites & have a short honeymoon, Gray is ecstatic when they get back to say the least, then a week or 2 after they get back Gray starts acting differently... she'll almost exclusively follow Steve around, she sniffs him more often, she cuddles him A LOT & then... Steve's period doesn't arrive so he takes several tests & every single one is positive!!

From there Gray's behavior starts to change more dramatically as the happy couple prepare to welcome their sweet baby into the world, as Steve progresses & his belly starts showing Gray needs to be near Steve like never before, she's purposefully slow on their morning jaunt tht has gone from a run to a walk, when they're out & she's w them & ppl decide to treat Steve's belly like it's public property she'll actually growl & even once jumped at a particularly insistent woman, she begins guarding Steve against pretty much everyone especially Eddie, the only exception to this is Aunty Robin the 3 of them often have cuddle puddles as Steve gets bigger & Eddie is very jealous, Gray especially loves lying w steve in a way tht allows her head to rest on his belly & as the baby grows she feels the baby kick more than once quickly loving the connection w her younger human sibling

when the day of the birth gets near she is glued to Steve & when his belly drops she's climbing into bed w steve & comforts him as the discomfort of pregnancy makes itself known even more

(This part is partially inspired by my mom's experience when she went into labour w me)

Steve gets up late at night because he thinks he needs to pee, Gray follows him into the bathroom as she's done all these 40 weeks, when he pees he realizes right away it isn't actually pee & gray obviously knows it as well

While steve slowly stands & processes tht his water just broke, she does something they never trained her to do: she runs & wakes up Eddie as Steve grips the sink when a contraction hits practicing the breathing he's learned, Eddie is literally dragged into the bathroom by Gray bc she's got his shirt in her mouth, he realizes what's happening & it's controlled chaos as he runs around grabbing Steve's shoes, a pair of clean sweat pants for his omega, & the maternity shirt Eddie’s been scenting every day for the last 40 weeks, he's got the hospital bag over his shoulder, car keys, he's actively calling Robin to come to their house & watch Gray while he's helping steve to the car, as they're driving to the hospital he's on the phone w their doctor telling her to meet them at the hospital they all planned to be at,

after they get to the hospital it all goes relatively smoothly: steve gives birth to a healthy baby boy, Eddie is a helpful presence in the birthing room, neither baby boy or steve have health complications, but it still takes close to 10 hours of active labor to meet their son, after its done steve demands Eddie get him a cheeseburger, strawberry milkshake, & French fries from their favorite diner that's literally open by the time steve is in his hospital room recuperating and their son is back from a short bath & the usual medical procedures tht hospitals follow after the birth of a baby

When Steve & the baby come home a few days later Gray is ecstatic to see Steve again & so so curious & loving of her new human brother 💖

(I'm so sorry if there's any inaccurate medicine happening here, please tell me what I missed or even messed up)

i’ve always said that Steve and Eddie need an emotional support dog to help them with their trauma after everything they’ve been through, but Gray goes above and beyond for his little family🥺😭💕

[juneberrie]

MISS HER, KISS HER, LOVE HER

🧸 percy jackson

author's note quick lil percy boo blurb because im debating whether to work on the princess diaries au or nah xx love u all!!

word count 0.6k

warnings fem!reader, petnames, tooth-rotting fluff

ᥫ᭡ little romantic gestures ; resting foreheads together

percy unlocked the door to the jackson apartment, skateboard under his arm, and was immediately greeted by estelle running up to him with a big grin.

"hi percy!!" she exclaimed, raising her arms up. he laughed and scooped her up, kissing her on the cheek.

"hey, stella," he smiled, carrying her over to the couch where sally and paul sat watching a show. he leaned over and pressed a kiss to sally's head. "hi, mom. hey, paul."

sally took estelle from her brother's arms and smiled. percy stood for a few moments, watching the show. he heard estelle giggle and lean into sally, whispering loudly.

"should i tell him, mama?" she glanced at percy and her giggling intensified. percy picked her up from her mother's lap and held her up like in the lion king.

"what're you gonna tell me, starfish?" he asked, throwing her in the air and catching her again, causing her giggles to get even louder. percy's heart warmed at the sight of his little sister's grin.

"nothing!! its a secret!!" she shrieked. percy attacked her little face with kisses.

"oh, y'gotta tell me now," he threatened playfully, his face breaking into a smile. "or else i'm just gonna find out on my own."

stella kept looking back and forth between sally, percy, and...

"is there something in my room, stella?" estelle's eyes widened in surprise and she fought to get out of her brother's embrace.

"no!! nothin' in your room percy!!!" she finally managed to escape his grip and stood in front of his door, arms and legs spread wide like a starfish. percy walked calmly towards her as paul and sally watched with knowing smiles on their faces.

"stella...." he started. before she knew it, she was over percy's shoulder like a potato sack. her peals of laughter echoed throughout the hall as percy strode towards his room. his hand twisted the knob and he pushed open the door.

his eyes went wide. his cheeks flushed. he gently helped stella to the ground before taking another step into his room.

"y/n?" he whispered. his girlfriend waved from her spot on the bed where she was laying, scrolling through her phone.

"hi perce," she smiled. "how-" she didn't get to finish, because percy ran to her, picked her up, and spun her around in a joyous hug.

"oh my gods, i missed you so much, angel," he laughed into her neck. he felt her smile and he set her down and pulled away. he immediately leaned forward and connected their lips, which elicited a squeal of disgust from estelle as she ran from her brother's room and shut the door behind her.

when they finally pulled apart, percy's face was red and he could feel the heat emanating from his girl. he took in her gorgeous smile, her pretty eyes, her wonderful hair. he wanted to memorize every part of her before she ever made it out of this room.

"what're you doing here?" he asked, face still split in a smile.

"school's over, so i thought i might come stay with you before we go to camp," she replied. she quickly added, "if that's okay with you?"

"of course its okay with me, babe!!" he nearly shouted it for how happy he was to see her. "you can always stay with me—us!! my mom loves you!" she laughed and he wished he could freeze the moment and put it in a locket.

she rested her forehead against his and murmured softly, "i love you, perce."

he kissed her nose. "i love you more, sugar."

[girlgenius1111]

all i do is try, try, try

alexia and r finally talk.

part 3!

"I can't- I can't do this anymore. I'm so tired, Alexia, I can't." You choked out. You suddenly looked so completely broken, all of the fight, the frustration nowhere to be found.

Alexia felt useless; everything in her was telling her to pull you into a hug, but she wasn't sure you wanted it, not from her. She turned, looking helplessly for Olga. Her girlfriend stood in the doorway, a small frown on her face. She nodded reassuringly at Alexia, as if to tell her to trust her instincts. Your sister turned back to you, hesitantly wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

You practically collapsed into her, wrapping your arms around her tightly, as if afraid she would disappear if you weakened your grip for even a second. Alexia could feel you trembling against her, and she held solidly to you, blinking hard at the tears that were gathering in her eyes. Your anguished sobs, the way you clung to her shirt, the way you gasped for air in between your cries, it was all killing her.

"Ale, I can't anymore, please just make it stop," You sobbed, and Alexia pressed a kiss into the top of your head.

"Hey, hey, cariño, it's okay, you're okay," Alexia murmured, trying to calm you down.

"No, I can't, I can't do it, Ale."

"I don't know what you mean. Talk to me, pequeña, please. Tell me, and I'll fix it." Alexia pleaded, wishing that anyone else was here with her. You didn't need her, you needed Alba, or your mom, but she was the only one around. The one who had made her so upset, and she didn't know if she could fix it.

"I can't, I can't," You repeated, and Alexia pulled away from the embrace, gripping your face in between her hands.

"Breathe, pequeña, please. Calm down for me, and we can then we can fix it. You just need to calm down." The blonde insisted, running her hand through your hair in what she hoped was a soothing manner.

For the second time in as many days, Alexia began trying to calm you down, hoping her words would work better this time. "You're safe with me, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You don't need to worry about anything right now, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

Just when Alexia was going to call for Olga, tell her to get someone on the phone, you push away from her like you'd been burned, resting your head in your hands as you stutter through several deep breaths.

You couldn't go to Alexia for comfort, not now. You needed to fix this yourself. Your sister shouldn't have to be responsible for trying to put the broken pieces of you back together.

"Nena?" Alexia asked after a minute, resting her hand on your back.

"Just give me a second," you responded, shifting to avoid her touch. Alexia sighed, sitting back into the couch, her eyes never leaving you.

Once you'd gotten some control back over yourself, you sat back, your face melting into a mask of indifference. "Sorry, Ale. I'm sorry." You stated, before moving to grab your crutches and get off the couch, fleeing the conversation seeming like your only option at this point. Before you could, Alexia pulled on the back of your shirt, forcing you back down onto the couch.

"No, nena, no. We're going to talk about this, please. Talk to me. I'm begging you, I want to hear what you have to say."

You rub your face roughly. "I don't know what to say, Alexia."

Your sister pauses, not quiet sure where to begin. "What were you saying to Olga? You said... you said you thought I would hate you, that i'd be disappointed in you."

"I don't- I don't think I'm strong enough for this, Alexia, to come back from this."

"Chica, it is only a broken ankle. It is only a few months." Alexia didn't understand, not at all.

"A few months is a long time. And I'm so tired." You replied, struggling to say enough to satisfy your sister, but not so much that you exposed how horribly you were coping with everything.

Alexia knew you were exhausted, she could tell now. She looked at you, and she finally saw what everyone around you had been seeing. She just didn't understand what had pushed you to this point; it wasn't her, couldn't be her. "Why are you so tired, nena?"

"I'm trying so hard to be perfect, and I keep messing up. There's so much pressure, all the time, and I feel like it's killing me." Your choice of words wasn't accidental or random, and your sister could tell. She inhaled slowly, before trying to put herself in your position.

"The media, it is a lot? The expectations are a lot, but you can't pay too much attention to them," Alexia began, trying to reassure you.

You shook your head, cutting her off. "The media is a lot, yes. It's also... fuck. It's also you, Ale. I feel like nothing I do is good enough for you. I'm not strong like you, I'm not perfect like you, no matter how hard I try."

"I don't understand. I have made you feel this way?" The blonde asked, her voice incredibly small.

"You always want more from me, and sometimes it's okay, but other times, I just feel like I can't do anything right, anything the way you want me to. You tell me I'll be back before 4 months, and it's like all of a sudden there's a deadline at 3 months, and I have to be back by then, or you won't be happy with me." You chanced a look at your sister, finding her completely and utterly shocked.

You continued, realizing that you might as well just tell the entire truth at this point. "I just want to be good enough, Alexia. Good enough that you're proud and that you love me."

Alexia's face crumples at this, reacting to your words like she'd been struck by you. She seems to consider what to say for a while, mouth opening and closing before finally, she settles on something, looking at you.

"I am so sorry." She said, drawing in a big breath as if to prepare for a long speech. You shake your head, but she holds up a hand, telling you to be quiet for a minute. "I never meant to make you feel like that, never. I thought I was doing the right thing, pushing you to be better in a way you wanted. I didn't realize it was too much, I didn't realize you were struggling so much, nena."

Alexa paused, getting her emotions under control.

"I don't want you to be me, or do things just because you think they'll make me happy. Pequeña, you are you, and you are perfect. I don't want you to be anybody but yourself. Whatever makes you happy, that's all I want."

"But with football," you began, before Alexia cuts you off with a strong shake of her head.

"Fuck football. Hermanita, if you wanted to quit football today, I would love you just as much, I would be just as proud of you. You don't need to earn that from me; you are a good person, an incredible sister, and that is why I love you. Not because of what you do or don't do on the pitch. That doesn't matter to me, not really. You matter to me. More than anything."

You still wouldn't look at your sister, so Alexia grabs you by the shoulders turning you to face her. Her eyes are glistening with tears when she speaks, the words cracking you open, leaving a chasm of pain behind.

"You will always be good enough for me, do you understand? I will always love you. Nothing you could do will ever change that." Alexia promised, watching as your body sags with relief. You lean imperceptibly towards her, and Alexia pulls you in again, not letting go even as you shake against her.

"Oh, pequeña. I love you, hermanita. I love you more than anything." Alexia whispered. "I'm so sorry you felt like this, so so sorry. Mi hermanita perfecta, te amo mucho de menos."

You stayed like that for a while, face buried in your sister's shirt, letting go of all of the stress and sadness that had been weighing on you for the past months. Alexia wanted to cry, too, but she didn't let herself. Forcing you to deal with her emotions right now wouldn't be fair. Not after all that she had unknowingly put you through.

"You're going to take your time getting better, however long it takes. And you'll stay here with me and Olga, as long as you need. I'm going to be a better sister, nena, I promise you. I promise." Your sister said the words quietly, but the weight of them was not diminished.

"And you won't be mad if it takes longer?" You asked, leaning back and drying your eyes.

"No. Never."

"Okay." You said, a small smile gracing your lips. "I'm sorry I overreacted."

"You didn't overreact; not at all. The only thing you need to be sorry about as that you didn't tell me sooner how much you were struggling. I'm your sister, nena, you can tell me anything. Always."

-----

Alexia waited until you were soundly asleep in your bed before she allowed herself her emotions. She barely made it in the door of her bedroom before tears were flowing down her face, and she was stumbling blindly towards where her girlfriend awaited her in bed.

"Oh, Ale," Olga sighed, pulling her girlfriend into her arms.

"How did I do this to her? For months, and not realize the pressure she was under, how unhappy she was?" Alexia sobbed, gripping tight to her girlfriend.

"Alexia, you didn't know." Olga tried, but her girlfriend only cried harder.

"I should have. She's my responsibility, I should have known."

"She didn't want you to know. All of this, it isn't your fault. You both should have communicated better. And you will, from here on out. If there is anything I know about you, mi amor, it's that when you set your mind on something, you do it. You'll help her, Ale, you'll fix it. She'll be okay again."

"But she's not okay now." Alexia said, looking up at her girlfriend with wide, watery eyes.

Olga chuckled lightly, running her hand through her girlfriend's soft hair. "She can't always be okay, amor. She has you, though, and she trusts you. You'll make sure she gets through this."

A knock at the door interrupted Alexia before she could respond, and she hastily wiped her eyes, sitting up off her girlfriend as she told you to come in. The door creaked open, and you hesitantly crutched in a step.

"What's up, nena?" Alexia asked, smiling confidently at you, as if she wasn't just sobbing into her girlfriend's shirt. Either you didn't notice, or you pretended that you didn't.

"Can I... can I sleep in here tonight?" You asked, eyes flitting anxiously between your sister and her girlfriend. Both of them only smiled, though, and Alexia scooted closer to Olga, motioning you closer. You scooted into the next to her, letting your sister wrap you up in her arms, like she used to do when you'd sneak into her bed after a bad nightmare.

"Goodnight, nena. I love you. Tomorrow will be better." Alexia murmured. You nodded in agreement.

"I love you to, Ale." You told her quietly.

You weren't exactly sure, but as Alexia's arms tightened around you, you considered that maybe she needed this as much as you did.

-----

Things from then on out were easier for you; you had your confidante back, your shoulder to cry on. Alexia proved to you everyday that she meant what she'd promised you. The biggest instance of this was when you suffered a rather unfortunate setback in recovery, one that sent you back on crutches only days after you'd finally gotten off of them.

-----

You were in the gym, working on lifting some weights, trying to keep the strength in your arms up. It was a freak accident, you tripping in your clunky boot, and stumbling into Jana, who managed to keep you upright. Not upright enough that you didn't step down, hard on your ankle. Apparently just in the right spot for you to set your healing back several weeks. You'd collapsed onto the ground, crying out. You were upset, silently so, until Alexia arrived to the medical room you were in, having sprinted over from the training pitch.

"Hey, pequeña, I'm here." Alexia announced, eyes fluttering over you frantically. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

"A little. I have to go back on crutches." You said tearfully. It had been a while since had Alexia seen you be so willingly emotionally vulnerable. She hoped it was a sign that things were improving, that you were trusting her again.

"Let's get you home, yeah? I texted Olga, she's picking up dinner for us. Your favorite." Alexia smiled, helping you up and off the table. You were silently stunned at her lack of questions; it was completely bizarre that your sister didn't ask any questions about the injury. Her focus seemed to be entirely on getting you to the car, and home. She went out of her way to make ridiculous jokes she knew would make you laugh, effectively distracting you when she did an impression of Mapi staring at Ingrid taking penalty shots.

You were almost home when you brought up what was on your mind.

"You didn't ask how much longer I'd be out for." You mentioned quietly.

"It doesn't matter. I just wanted to know you were okay." Alexia said, not a shred of doubt in her voice. You stared over at her, where her eyes were fixed on the road in front of her.

"Ale?" You said.

She glanced over at you. "Yeah?"

"You're a really good sister." You told her. Alexia could only give you a watery smile, turning back towards the road, although she squeezed your shoulder appreciatively as she did so. It meant more to her than she could express, you telling her that.

You'd worked hard to trust her again; she never directly showed you how much your confession had affected her, but you knew it had weighed heavily on her. You'd caught the tail end of the conversation she'd had with her girlfriend, and you promised yourself, there and then, that you'd try to have more faith in yourself. If not because you deserved it, because you'd do it for your sister, who carried the weight of everyone around her's problems on her shoulders at all times.

It wouldn't just be for her, eventually. It would be because you knew you deserved kindness from yourself.

-----

not proofread. hope its everything you could have hoped for :)

[eideticmemory]

DARLING & DANDELION | SPENCER REID

Spencer is a lot of things to you. Your baby daddy, your lover, your best friend, and a massive pain in your ass.

Word Count: 6k.

Warning/Includes: Dad!Spencer, smut, angst, hurt/comfort.

You haven’t even caught your breath yet and you go, “We can’t do this anymore.”

And Spencer’s, whose chest is still heaving up and down, goes, “Wh…what?”

“We can’t do this anymore,” you wipe sweat from your forehead. “It’s tacky.”

Spencer props himself up his elbow and turns his body to face you, “Tacky? What do you mean?”

“Don’t do that. You know what I mean.”

“It’s…I mean…we…it’s healthy.”

“Tuh!” you laugh. “That’s your professional opinion, doctor?”

“Yes. Yes, sex is good for the body and the mind.”

“What if…” you prop yourself up on your elbows, “It’s with your ex, who you can never work it out with, who you have a kid with, on an occasional and convenient basis?”

“From personal experience, it’s the best sex you can ever have,” he finishes his sentence with a devilish smile and you roll your eyes, poke your tongue out at him.

You shake your head, “I have to go. You have to go,” you get out of bed.

Spencer’s eyes scan over your naked body and he asks, “Why? Where are you going?”

“Gotta pick up Dandelion from my mom’s,” you tell him as you button your jeans.

“Can I come?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? I haven’t seen Dandy in a week.”

“It’s not about you seeing Dandy. It’s about my mom seeing you.”

“What? She loves me.”

“Duh, more than she loves me, but you know how she likes to pry. She’s gonna think we’re back together.”

“Ah! No, not that we’re back together,” he mocks. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, darling.”

“Well, it’s not a good thing. Put some clothes on.”

“Take your clothes off.”

“Oh, you wish.”

“Can I come?”

“You came about five minutes ago, mister. It’s time for you to go.”

He fakes a laugh, “You’re so clever. Can I come?”

“Are you going to keep asking?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh,” you roll your eyes. “Fine, just, put some fucking clothes on.”

“You’re so easy to wear down,” he giggles, and he hops up, gets himself dressed. You go to leave the room and he calls out to you, “Hey.”

He steps in front of you, takes a good look, and runs his hand over your hair, “I think it would be a good thing…”

You feel this lump in your throat, jammed in the center of your voice box, blocking any air, any words. You tear your eyes away from him and clear your throat, “God, I hate your haircut.”

He chuckles to himself as you maneuver around him and he follows you out to your car.

You ring your mom’s doorbell and say, “Need you to act normal, please.”

“Oh, so, not like we just came from having sex?”

“Exactly.”

You feel him squeeze your ass and you jump, swat at his arm, “Hey!”

“I’m just getting it all out now.”

And as you roll your eyes, the door opens and your mom greets you with nothing but an, “Oh!”

“Hey, mom,” you wave as you step inside.

“Hey, mom,” Spencer mimics and gives her a big hug.

“Well, this is a surprise, huh?”

“Wrapped up with a case early, darling said I could tag along.”

You round the corner into the living room and see Dandelion sitting in front of the TV, legs crisscrossed underneath her. You lean against the wall and just watch her for a moment. You scan over her features, your eyes landing on the tip of her nose that pokes out just like her dad’s. You clear your throat and she does a double take when she sees you.

“Mommy!” she shouts, and she hops up at lightning speed, rushing towards you as fast as her little feet will carry her.

You drop to your knees and let her crash into you, engulf her in your arms, hold her really tight. You pepper her face with kisses, saying, “Hi, baby, hi, baby!”

“Did you have a good day at work?” she asks you.

“Yes, baby. How was your day with Mimi?”

“We got ice cream.”

“No way!”

“Yes!”

“What kind of ice cream?”

“Chocolate,” she giggles.

“Ooh, that’s your favorite. Did you eat all of it?”

“Yes.”

“Every single bite?”

“Yes!”

“Where did it all go, huh?” You start to tickle her tummy and she falls over in laughter. “Here? Here?”

Her giggles are so loud and contagious that you smile so wide, it hurts your face. “Guess what? I have a surprise for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes, you,” you tickle her face. “Look,” you stand her up. “Look who’s here.”

On queue, Spencer pops his head around the corner and Dandelion’s eyes light up. She jumps up and down, screaming, “Daddy!”

“Dandy!” Spencer exclaims, and he scoops her up in his arms.

You stand up as he walks her into the living room, pecking soft kisses all over her face, twirling her around, “Oh, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You watch the two of them, Spencer sat on the couch with Dandelion in his lap, his arms around her protectively. And as you settle into the peace of it all, something - someone - pinches you very hard and they won’t let go.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” you wince, as your mom drags you into the kitchen.

“What the hell is Spencer doing here?” she whispers.

She stands in front of you with her arms crossed and you suddenly feel like a little girl. You cut your eyes over to Spencer and Dandy very briefly and stutter, “He…told you. They finished the case early and he asked if he could come see Dandy.”

“Mmhmm…” she nods.

“Mom, please,” you groan.

“Don’t mom, please me. What is going on?”

“Nothing is going on. I…we…he wanted to come see Dandy, so I let him come see Dandy. Coparenting 101, I don’t understand why you’re so suspicious.”

“What…what is this…” she reaches in and pulls down the collar of your shirt to reveal your neck. “Is…is that a hickey? Oh, [y/n], c’mon. What are you? 15?”

“No, no, I…burnt myself with a flat iron.”

She sighs, “I hope you know what you’re doing here, kid.”

“I’m not doing anything. Nothing is happening. I…”

“Shush,” she tells you and you turn around as Spencer enters the kitchen.

“Darling?” he calls.

“Hm?” you reply.

“Could I, uh, could Dandy come home with me? I’ll be off tomorrow and I can watch her while you’re at work and you could pick her up after?”

You and your mom exchange a glance and you cross your arms defensively, “Sure,” you nod at him. “Sure, if Dandy’s okay with that.”

“Thank you!” he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and your mom raises her eyebrows at you.

Spencer runs back into the living room, chanting, “Daddy and Dandy day! Daddy and Dandy day! Daddy and Dandy day!” and Dandelion bursts into laughter, repeating him, going, “Daddy and Dandy day! Daddy and Dandy day!”

“Does he know nothing is happening?” your mom asks you.

“Spencer’s a smart boy, mom. Don’t worry about him.”

“And yet,” she sucks her teeth. “He’s a complete dumbass when it comes to you.”

Spencer asks if you can drive them to the park. There, JJ meets you with Henry. Dandy and him are close in age. In fact, Spencer had just returned from seeing Henry in the hospital when you told him you were pregnant. It was not your best timing, considering his familial trauma and all, but it had to be done. This puts Henry at 4 and Dandy running in close second at 6 months behind. JJ takes a seat next to you on the bench, watching Spencer run around with the kids. There are the casual aspects of conversation. The how are yous and how’s work and anecdotes about the kids and then she asks, “So, what’s going on between you two?”

“Ugh,” you groan. “Is there a sign on my face today or something?”

“Sore subject?” she grins.

“No. Nothing sore about it. Nothing’s going on…” you look at her from the corner of your eye, then turn your head, “Why? Why, did he say something to you?”

“No.”

A beat passes.

“You seem disappointed by that,” she adds.

“Oh, no. Don’t do that. Do not profile me. You know I hate it when you guys do that.”

She laughs, “Well, I lied. He talks about you all the time.”

You bite down on your lip and look away.

A beat passes.

JJ says, “You seem pleased by that.”

You drive Spencer and Dandelion to his apartment and she runs in like she owns the place.

“Okay, so,” you hold out her backpack for him. “She’s got a change of clothes in here, some hair clips, some ties, oh, uh, how much of her body wash and shampoo do you have left? Because I don’t think I put any in here…”

When you look up and he’s giving you a blank stare, you go, “What?”

“You’re not gonna come in?”

“It’ll just confuse her.”

Spencer wants to argue. He wants to sweet talk you and coax you inside, but coparenting 101, “No, yeah, you’re right.”

He watches you kiss Dandelion goodbye and when she runs back inside, he says, “Call you at bedtime?”

“Yes. Please.”

He has that look in his eye like he wants to kiss you, you know it well. So you leave before he can get a chance.

When you’re laying in bed that night, Spencer calls you on FaceTime and he sets you up on the nightstand so you can see them both. Dandelion laying in bed and Spencer kneeling beside her.

“Hi, mommy!” They say in unison.

“Hi,” you giggle.

“We were just about to pick Dandy’s story for the night,” Spencer tells you. “Dandy?”

She tilts her head.

“What story do you want tonight, baby?”

“Ummm…” she hums, giggling, “The story about my name.”

“Ohhh, that’s a good story,” Spencer grins.

“That is a good story,” you smile.

Spencer holds Dandelion’s hands in his and starts, in this sweet, soft voice, “Once upon a time…there was a mommy and a daddy. And they loved each other sooo much that they were gonna have a…”

“Baby!” she finishes for him and he chuckles.

“That’s right, they were gonna have a baby! And the mommy and daddy were sooo excited about their baby, they just couldn’t wait. But when the time came for the baby to come…”

“She didn’t wanna come out!” Dandy laughs.

“No, no, no, the baby didn’t wanna come out. She wanted to stay warm and cozy in the mommy’s belly. So, the mommy and daddy tried everything to get their baby to come out, but nothing worked! Until one day, they went for a walk at the park. And the mommy was so big that she walked like this…” Spencer mimics your trademark waddle and the two of you laugh at him, you rolling your eyes at the screen. “And they walked and walked and walked and nothing was working. Until, this big, big gust of wind came by…”

He flails his arms, going, “Whoooooosh!” and Dandelion mimics him.

“It was so big, it almost knocked the mommy and daddy over. And when the wind stopped, this tiny, small dandelion floated out of the sky and landed right on the mommy’s belly…and then…”

“Pop!” they say in sync.

“The baby was ready to come out! So the daddy took the mommy to the hospital and out came the most beautiful baby the world has ever, ever seen. The mommy and daddy were so happy and they loved her so much. But they still had to pick a name for her. So after they thought and thought and thought, they named her…”

“Diana Dandelion Reid,” she smiles.

“That’s right,” Spencer nods. “But we just call you Dandy.”

Dandelion smiles as Spencer places a kiss on her nose. “Goodnight, baby. Say good night to mommy,” he grabs his phone and holds it up to her.

“Goodnight, mommy,” she tells you and your heart just melts.

“Goodnight, baby,” you whisper. “I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She nods and rolls over as Spencer turns out the lamp, leaving her to sleep. Once he’s out of the room, he closes the door and gives you a soft smile.

“Thanks for joining us, darling.”

You smile, nod, “It’s a good story.”

“The best.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it.”

While you’re at work the next day, Spencer sends you a picture of the two of them out on the lake.

S: Pedal boats today!

You giggle to yourself.

Y: Omg so fun!! I thought you were afraid of open water?

S: I was terrified but she begged and begged and begged! What was I supposed to do???

Y: 😂😂😂

You pick up Dandelion after work and she is distraught.

“I don’t want daddy to go!” she cries and you see Spencer’s heart break. You can hear it.

“He’ll be back, baby, he always come back,” you whisper, rubbing her back.

“No-oo-oo!” she cries and reaches up for Spencer who scoops her into his arms before she can ball her hands into a fist.

“Hey, hey, hey, Dandy, look at me,” he cooes. He wipes the tears from her eyes, “You and mommy are going to call me everyday, huh? And you’ll tell me all about your fun day with Mimi and we’ll do your story before bed and I promise you, I will be back before you know it. Okay?”

She sniffles, gives him a sad nod.

“Okay, give me a hug,” he says and they squeeze each other real tight. “You, too, mommy,” he holds his other arm open for you and you hesitate, but only for a moment, and then you step in and wrap your arms around both of them.

“Mmm,” he hums happily, gives you both a kiss on the cheek, “My girls. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Dandelion lets Spencer hand her over to you and he waves until you guys are out of the door and all the way down the stairs. Then he exhales all the air in his chest and he cries. But only for a little bit.

He’s gone for a little over two weeks. The day he comes back, he doesn’t really give you any notice, he just texts: Back in town. What are you up to?

And you, still at work, reply: Nothin. Workin.

S: Lunch?

You meet him at a restaurant down the street and when you walk in, he gets so excited that he stands up to wave and knocks all the silverware off the table. Your hand flies to your mouth as it all falls to the floor in a loud sequence of clangs and booms and you watch him scramble to pick it all up. People are staring and as you make the decision to walk over to him, it’s like you’re saying to everyone: yep, he’s mine!

“Hi, darling,” he huffs, his face bright red.

“Hi,” you laugh.

He takes you in a warm embrace and you hold the back of his head in your hand.

“Oh, I missed you,” he says.

“We missed you, too.”

He’s not supposed to, but like he always has, he tells you all about the case they were working on. Full of twists and turns and gorey details that make you sick to your stomach but, somehow, you can still eat. He asks about Dandy and that leads you into the dreaded preschool conversation and you both shut it down instantly.

“How did she get so big?” he asks.

“We just…kept feeding her,” you laugh and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Time needs to slow down. Seriously. It’s happening too fast.”

“I know. I know, I know, but we’ve got so much more to look forward to, y’know? First day of school and science fairs and graduations…”

“Ah-ah! No, no, none of that. She’s gonna be little forever.”

“You’re in denial, doctor.”

“Well, duh.”

“Here’s the check, you guys,” the waiter interrupts. “No rush, though. Take your time.”

“Thanks,” you say in unison.

“He only brought one check?” you question.

Spencer raises his eyebrows at you.

“And he gave it to you? How caveman of him.”

“Now, now, darling, stand down. Let me pay for your food.”

“I mean, of course I’m going to let you pay for it. I just don’t like the assumption.”

“What assumption?” he smirks.

“I…you really like driving me insane, don’t you?”

He cackles and nods, “Yeah, actually. Kinda my job.”

You laugh and lean into him a bit. The booth you two are in has you sandwiched shoulder to shoulder, and sure, there is plenty of room for there to be distance between you two, but you don’t want there to be. You look at his neck and reach in. As your fingertip touches his skin, you can feel his pulse kick up. You pull the chain from underneath his shirt and let the dandelion pendant fall to his chest.

“Where’s yours?” he asks and his fingertips trail over your collarbone, grabbing onto your matching necklace.

You release his chain, but he won’t let go off yours and he’s giving you that look and you just shake your head, “I should really get back to work.”

When you get to his place, the two of you burst through the door, bodies mangled and tangled together, lips mushed into each other’s faces. Spencer’s got his arms wrapped tight around your waist and your hands have gotten lost in his hair. As he pushes you backwards, you trip over a barbie doll and nearly fall over but he catches you.

“You okay?” he mumbles.

“Mhm,” you nod, and you whip your bodies around, push him onto the couch. He lands with a deep, “oof!” and watches you crawl into his lap. His eyelids drop, feeling the warmth of your hand on his face and your lips on his neck. He grips onto your waist, bunches your dress up in his hands and you work to unbutton his shirt.

You breathe into each other’s mouths, out of breath and grinding against one another on a constant, rhythmic loop.

“Mm,” you moan as he licks down your neck. “Do you have a condom?”

“Mm,” he ponders, “Condom, condom, condom…yes!” And he throws you off of him, leaving you laying on your back while he runs into his room. You slide your panties off and he returns with the packet in hand and falls right on top of you.

His body perched between your legs, you undo his pants and take his jaw in your hands, put your tongue in his mouth. He puts the condom on and holds onto the couch as he pushes all the way into you. You both gasp and Spencer crashes on top of you, catching you in a messy kiss. You pull your legs back for him and he starts pounding into you with this rhythm that you love and he knows that you love. He peppers soft kisses all over your face and grunts into your ear, grips onto your jaw so he can look you in the eye. He thrusts into you so quickly and with so much force that the couch is rattling around on the floor and your head is getting knocked off the edge of the couch. But he’s got you.

Your moans bounce off the walls and your mouth is wide open as you scream, “Fuck!”

As Spencer leans into kiss you, the both of you lose your balance and go sliding off the couch.

“Oh, shit!” you gasp, and try to hold on, but it’s too late and you guys fall on the floor, Spencer groaning as he breaks your fall.

“Oh, my god,” you whisper, leaning down to comfort him. “Oh, my god, are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just…just do that thing with your hips that I like,” he huffs.

You readjust, “This?” you pant as you start to grind your hips on his cock.

“Oh, yeah,” he moans, his eyes falling shut and his head rolling back. “Yeah, that’s it.”

You lean back, resting your hands on his knees and bounce on him, your mouth falling open. He paws at your breasts and pulls at the fabric of your dress. He knows you’re about to come because he knows you, and he knows your body and he can feel you tightening around him, your hips increasing in speed. Your voice starts to get real whiny and you pound your palms into his chest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper and all he can do is watch, and hold himself back until you get there.

He takes your nipple into his mouth and you tangle your fingers in his hair and grind yourself against him until your whole body tenses up and trembles. You come with his face in your chest and your eyes rolling so far back in your head that you go blind. It only takes a few more motions of your hips for him to follow behind you and he holds onto you for dear life, muffling his groans against your skin.

You both fall onto the floor, still holding each other, trying to catch your breath. Spencer grips onto your hair and kisses you passionately, repeatedly, and casually says, “Love you.”

You can’t stop the visceral reaction you have. You just sit up and stare at him, your eyes big and wide. “I…” you stutter, give him a friendly pat on the face, “Love you…I have to go.”

He watches, dazed and confused, as you hop off of him and fix your dress, “You’re making me feel cheap here, darling.”

You laugh, awkwardly, “No, no, I just, I’m so late for work. I have to get back,” you trip over your panties as you pull them up your legs and swear, “Shit!”

Spencer fixes his pants and stands up, striding over to you, “I freaked you out…”

“What? No. You didn’t freak me out.”

“Because, I can say I don’t love you if it’ll fix it.”

“I’m not freaked out.”

“I don’t love you, I…hate you actually.”

“I’m just late for work,” you try to slide out the door but he reaches out for you.

“Wait, wait,” he calls. “I thought I could maybe see Dandy today?”

“Uh, yeah, she’s at my mom’s just, go whenever,” you shrug. “I have to go. Bye.”

“Darling?” he calls, but you close the door on him.

Your body shivers and you march down the hallway, down the stairs and back on your way to work. When your shift ends, you head over to your mom’s and she opens the door with a bright smile, “Hello, my love!”

“Hi,” you groan as you step inside.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just, rough day. Need to see my Dandy…” you round the corner and see Spencer playing with her in the living room, so you push yourself back, your mom along with you.

“What the hell is he doing here?” you whisper.

“He’s been here for a few hours. He said he told you?”

“He…I mean…yeah, he did. Why is he still here?”

“I don’t know, [y/n], maybe to be an active, caring father? Crucify the boy, why don’t you?”

Your heart is pounding out of your chest and you tug on your hair with a rush of anxiety.

“[y/n]…” your mom says. “What is going on?”

You sigh and lean against the wall, “I don’t know what I’m doing…you were right, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

And she steps in, grabs your shoulders, takes a deep breath. You follow her. In and out, in and out.

“Well, then,” she nods. “You better figure it the fuck out, baby.”

“I know. I know, I know.”

“Mommy?” Your heads turn to the sound of the tiny voice and Dandelion looks up at you with wide, innocent eyes and every bit of tightness in your chest just dissipates.

“Hi, honey,” you coo and you instantly lean down to pick her up. “Oh, hi, you. Hi, my baby.”

Spencer follows her out there and waves, casually, “Hi, mommy.”

“Hi,” you nod to him.

“Me and daddy made a castle,” Dandelion tells you. “Come look!”

“Oh, yes, show me, show me!”

You follow her into the living room, leaving Spencer with your mom. She purses her lips at him and then promptly walks by him, giving his shoulder a harsh slap.

“Ow!” he exclaims. “What did I do?”

Spencer takes Dandelion home for the night. It’s a Friday so he plans to have her all weekend and most of next week which is fine with you. It’ll give you time to rest and reflect and figure it the fuck out. Spencer takes the hint. For once, he takes the hint and he only texts you sporadic updates.

So, when he calls you on Monday at four in the morning, you think he wants to have a talk. One of those conversations that you guys can never seem to have in the light of day.

“Hello?” you grumble.

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry I woke you up. Can you, um, can you come over?”

You sit up, “Why? Is Dandy okay?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s fine. She’s asleep. I, uh…there’s a case…”

You sigh. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re already up to get dressed.

“Darling…”

“I’ll be there in ten,” and you hang up.

He sees your car pull in from the street and he has the door open for you when you get upstairs. He has his go-bag packed and he looks apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “I’ll make it up to you. Both of you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave him off. “I’ve got it. You can go.”

“Darling, you know I can’t…I…I didn’t ask to be called in.”

“No, well, duh. This is just one of those things, right?” you shrug. “One of those things I could never stand and I still can’t stand. I’m used to it. It’s fine. I’ll explain to Dandy.”

“This isn’t about the case…”

“Can you…please?”

“This is about the other day. When we…when I…”

“I’m not upset. Don’t project on me. I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay, that was convincing.”

“Why do you always have to do this?” you snap, keeping your voice down. “Without fail. You always do this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you always have to ruin a good thing? You always, always just have to suck the fun out of everything.”

He scoffs, goes to speak, and pauses, “Did it ever occur to you that…that it wasn’t fun for me, [y/n]?”

Oh, he’s serious. He used your real name.

“That I didn’t enjoy being yanked around and used like some toy?”

“I…oh, come on! Is your eidetic memory broken or something? You initiated it, remember? And if you did that just in hopes of us getting back together, that’s not fair. That’s so unfair.”

“I just wanted to be close to you. And, yeah, maybe that wasn’t fair. But I just…I’m having a hard time believing that it doesn’t work. That we don’t work, hey,” he grabs your shoulders, makes you stop shaking your head and look at him, “Maybe for all the hurt we’ve caused each other and all the baggage, maybe it’s just meant to work. We are meant to work, okay? Because I love you. I am so in love with you. I don’t know how to not be in love with you, look,” he puts your hand to his chest, “Feel how fast my heart is beating? It does not every time I’m around you. I can’t help it.”

“Please, stop.”

“And you’re telling me you don’t feel the same way?” he puts his hand to your ribs and your heart is pounding against his palm. “I don’t believe you.”

It takes you a moment before you can pry his hand away. You remove your hand from his chest, hold his hands in yours, and give him this sad, sad look.

You can see his shoulders fall in defeat, this heavy breath of air coming straight from his chest. He steps away and grabs his go-bag, stands up straight, “It’s a local case so I shouldn’t be gone too long. Kiss Dandy for me?”

You nod, but you can’t look at him. You let him place a kiss on your forehead and then he leaves. You lock the door behind him.

You crawl into bed with Dandelion and you stir for most of the night.

By the time you fall asleep, she wakes up twenty minutes later.

And so, life just kinda goes on. Spencer calls to talk to Dandy just before you go into work so you tell him to call your mom and he does. That’s the last you hear from him for the next couple of days until he calls you while you’re at work.

“Hello?” you answer.

“[y/n]?”

You pause for a moment, “JJ?” and then the realization hits you and you hop up from your desk, running out of the building.

There’s some words like “bomb” and “concussion” and “pavement” but they all blur together and you yell, “Just tell me what hospital!”

You can’t even remember where you parked your car. Everything is muffled and you rush around the crowded hospital in a frenzy. You can’t hear anything. Hell, you can barely see anything. Just Derek, holding an ice pack to his head, pointing you towards a room so you go.

When you see Spencer lying there, a big bandage wrapped around the circumference of his head and a doctor tracking his vitals, you can barely bring yourself to step in the room.

The doctor glances at you, then returns to his clipboard, “Are you his wife?”

You step in, slowly, bring yourself to Spencer’s side, “I’m, uh, the closest thing he’s got to one.”

He tells you there’s some swelling around Spencer’s brain, but it’s been drained. He can’t provide you with an exact estimate of when Spencer will wake up. If he ever wakes up. And as this man is talking to you in this stern, stoic voice, you just look at Spencer. You trace the structure of his face and put your hand on his chest. The doctor leaves and you still can’t pull yourself away from him.

“You did this on purpose,” you whisper, caressing his face. “You did this on purpose to make me feel bad, didn’t you? Because…because I was awful to you…I’m so sorry,” you sob. “I’m so sorry.”

You lay your head on his chest and cry, “Just don’t die. I can’t do this by myself, you hear me? Please, don’t, die.”

Spencer wouldn’t wake up for another four whole days. You sleep in the chair beside his bed until a nice nurse brings you a cot. Dandelion stays at your mom’s house and JJ offers, repeatedly, to give you a a chance to leave. Shower, eat, see your kid. But you’re so worried that if you leave, Spencer will die. So you fall asleep every night to the sound of his heartbeat on the monitor and if it ever should stop, you would know. On day four, you pop your head up from a few hours sleep and he’s watching you. His eyes are hooded and grey, but they are open, you can tell. You hop up and rush over to him, gently setting your hands on his body.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Hi! Hi! Hi, Spencer,” you sob. “Oh, my god.”

He stares at you for a moment, then his eyes scan the room. He looks back at you, “Who…” his voice breaks, “Are you?”

Your eyes go wide and you let out this defeated sound. You don’t even know where to begin. You don’t know how to respond or what to do or how to feel. You think you’re gonna crumble to your knees. And then he smiles.

“I’m just messing with you, darling.”

“Ugh!” you shout and you start slamming your palms into his chest. “That’s not funny!”

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” he laughs. “Okay, okay, okay, I’m injured here!”

You take his face in your hands and give him a long kiss. You can hear his heart rate go up on the monitor.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he mumbles, as you hug him. “I’m…I’m sorry for everything.”

“No, stop that. Not important. Ridiculously unimportant, okay? Don’t even think about it.”

He nods and breathes you in, “You…stink. When was the last time you showered?”

“That would be…like, the day you were blown up.”

“Ah. When was that?”

“Four days ago.”

“Holy shit.”

You giggle, “Did you just say a bad word, doctor l?”

“Fuck, cut me some slack! I slept through hump day.”

You press your nose against his and laugh and the world feels okay again.

Spencer has to stay in the hospital for another week before you can bring him home. Dandelion is back in her own bed and she just thinks Spencer has gone on a long, long trip. She’s at your mom’s when you get Spencer to his apartment and he begs to see her. Even when his head is still killing him, he begs to see her.

“Tomorrow,” you say as you tuck him into bed. “You’ve still got that scary raccoon look going on. Don’t wanna freak her out.”

“Tomorrow? You promise?”

“I promised the both of you. Tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He curls up and notices you crawl in bed beside him, “Darling, you don’t have to sleep here.”

“Shhhh,” you whisper, run your hand through his hair, “Go to sleep.”

The next day, he is more like himself. Maybe it’s the adrenaline he gets from the prospect of seeing his daughter, maybe it’s waking up next to you in the morning, but either way, he looks like himself and he talks like himself and he can’t wait to go to the park.

Your mom meets you there with Dandelion and she trips over her feet running to Spencer. She crashes into him and nearly knocks him over, and you can tell it hurts him, but he takes it and kisses her face.

“Where were you, daddy?”

“Oh, on a long, long trip, baby. But I’m back now.”

“I missed you!”

“Oh, Dandy,” he squeezes her tight. “You have no idea.”

He plays for as long as he can. He climbs the playset and runs around playing tag and hide and seek until his breath nearly gives out. He runs over to the bench you and your mom are sat on and huffs, “Can someone else push her on the swing before I pass out?”

The two of you laugh and your mom says, “I’ll go.”

“Thanks,” Spencer takes her spot beside you and his head falls into your lap. “Phew! Tell you what, a coma seriously bends you out of shape.”

“Well, you weren’t all that much in shape before the coma.”

“Ugh,” he groans. “You sound like the fitness personnel at the academy. What does in shape even mean?”

You cackle and he puts his arm over your shoulder. The two of you watch Dandy on the swing. Up and down, up and down, higher and higher, until her laughter is echoing around the park.

“You know…” you start. “Maybe it wouldn’t be…the worst thing in the world…”

Spencer doesn’t even have to ask what you’re talking about, he just looks at you and smiles, “Really?”

You give him a sly shrug.

He looks away from you, trying to keep himself from smiling so hard that his face rips in half. “I…I’m sorry - it’s because I got blown up, isn’t it?”

“Just shut up,” you laugh.

“You can tell me the truth, I won’t be mad.”

“You know what? I take it back, you get on my nerves. Oof!” you exclaim as he suddenly takes you into a tight hug. And for the first time in a long time, you feel a calm, serene peace.

“Yeah, well,” he says, “Sorry, too late.”

[thatztyv]

Still Yours

Description:

- Just a baby daddy and his baby mother

Word Count:

- 1.7k

Rɪʟᴇʏ Jᴏɴᴇs

(rie-lee joe-ons)

"Daddy", Tiana squealed as she ran to Oakley and jumped on him.

"Hey princess", he chuckled. "Where's mommy?"

"Over there", she said and pointed at me as he set her down.

He walked over to me and flashed a smile.

"Hey Riley."

"Oakley", I said as I placed some party bags on the table.

"Now why you acting like that?"

"You want me to jump up and down and act excited?", I said raising a brow at him.

"Preferably", he said making me laugh.

"Nigga you wish."

My mom walked over to us and greeted Oakley.

"Hey Oakley it's good to see you again", she said as she gave him a quick hug.

"Hey Mrs.Jones it's been a while."

"Every time I turn around he somewhere far off", I said and rolled my eyes. "I'm surprised he made it."

"Well I couldn't miss our daughters sixth birthday. That's unforgivable", he said and playfully poked out his bottom lip.

"How long you here for?", my mom asked.

"Rest of the month."

"Well make sure you come by my house before you leave this time", she said and patted his back.

"Yes ma'am."

Her phone started ringing.

"It's your dad, I'll be back", she said.

"Ok", I hummed.

"So how you been baby?", Oakley asked once she walked away.

"Baby is crazy", I chuckled as I walked over to the sweets table on the other side of the room. Oakley following behind me like a lost puppy.

"You want me to call you love, babe, or if you're feeling spicy señorita."

"Riley is just fine Oakley", I hummed as I fixed the cupcake tray.

"Stop calling me Oakley. It's too formal."

"Well what else do you want me to call you?", I sighed as I looked at him.

"Cench, Cee, baby", he said and wiggled his eyebrows.

"I didn't even call you Cench when we was together and I'm definitely not starting now. And the other two... uhnt uh. Imma stick with Oakley."

"You ain't have a problem calling me Cee and baby a few weeks ago", he said and pressed up against my back side.

"That was a spur of the moment thing", I said pushing him off me.

"I bet it was", he chuckled.

.✿.

"I saw y'all two over there", Lana said as I came and sat with them. "Y'all back together."

"No and we never will be", I said as I watched Tiana play with her friends.

"Mmhm, not with the way he was all up on you", Remi chuckled.

"Chile please, I can't stand Oakley", I said making them look at me.

"Now you know", Remi started.

"Both of y'all still want each other but y'all tryna deny the fact", Lana said.

"Like everyone around y'all can see it. Flirting and going on", Remi said. "I know y'all still be kissing and shit when nobody around."

"We kissed twice since we broke up."

"How many times y'all fucked though?", Lana asked making me playfully roll my eyes.

"That ain't y'all business", I chuckled making them laugh.

"That's what I thought. Y'all minus well stop acting delirious and get back together."

"Oh no ma'am. He aggravates my soul", I said and shook my head.

"Obviously he must not be that aggravating if y'all still fucking", Remi chuckled.

"He's aggravating to an extent."

"So he's aggravating when y'all just being causal and co-parenting. But he not aggravating when he's fucking you?"

"Exactly", I said making them laugh.

"You is a mess", Remi chuckled.

.✿.

"Can I go to daddy's house tonight?", Tiana asked running up to me.

"If daddy says yes then you can go baby", I said pushing some of her hair out her face.

"Daddy can I stay with you tonight?", she said turning to him standing beside me.

"Of course you can baby", Oakley said with a smile.

Tiana smiled before running back over to her friends.

"Mommy are you going to stay the night too?", Oakley asked getting behind me and wrapping his arms around me.

"Hell nah", I said and pried his arms off me.

"Why not?", he chuckled.

"Cause if I come over there imma hurt you cause you get on my nerves."

He laughed.

"Am I that bad?"

"The worst", I huffed sarcastically.

.✿.

I felt my phone vibrating beside me, making me groan.

I picked it up and saw it was Oakley. I rolled my eyes and declined it.

'If there's a problem he'll call my momma and she'll call me. I'm sleeping', I mumbled, getting comfortable again.

After a few minutes it rung again.

I sighed and just answered.

"You up?", Oakley asked after it connected.

I could see he had his side lamp on and could hear something playing in the background.

"There is literally no reason for you to be FaceTiming me right now", I groaned. "Where my daughter at? She ok?"

"Tiana's our daughter and she's asleep, she's good. So calm down sweetheart", he chuckled.

"Oakley it's four in the morning, the hell is you calling me for if Tiana not in need of something."

"I just wanted to talk to you Riley", he said making me roll my eyes.

"What you want?", I sighed.

"Come over", he said innocently.

I looked at him like he was crazy. Cause he is crazy.

"Oakley if you don't get off my phone playing."

"I miss you baby", he chuckled. "Come home."

"Take your horny ass to bed Oakley."

He scoffed playfully.

"I gotta be horny to call you and tell you I miss you? I just wanna talk."

"I know you ain't just tryna talk. You wanting some pussy and you ain't getting it. Good night Cee!", I said and blew him a kiss before hanging up.

Baby Daddy 🤸🏾‍♀️

You called me Cee, you do miss me 🥹

Riley 🫀 laughed at a message

Riley 🫀

Go to sleep

Baby Daddy 🤸🏾‍♀️

Please come over🥺

Riley 🫀

Night night, Love you Oakley 😚

Baby Daddy 🤸🏾‍♀️

Awwww

I knew you still loved me😏

Love you too Riley 🤭

Riley 🫀

You're delusional 😐

Blocking you for the rest of the night

.✿.

I knocked on Oakleys front door and looked around.

After a few minutes the door opened, revealing a shirtless Oakley.

I looked over his chest as I had a flashback from the last time I was here.

Oakley decreased the speed of his strokes and repositioned himself to thrust deeper inside me.

Each thrust caused a loud gasp to escape my throat.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling his body closer to mine.

I gripped at his shirt, nearly ripping it, as he gave me slow deep strokes.

"Cee.. baby to- too deep", I cried out.

He rolled his hips smoothly as I continued to call out his name.

'Oh my god', I sighed to myself as I regained my composure.

"Where's Tiana?", I asked making eye contact with him.

"You're mom came and got her earlier to go shopping. They'll be back later", he said with a smirk.

"So you had me drive all the way out here to get her and she not even here", I said and he just stood there with that smirk on his face. "Ooh you make me sick."

"Since you're here", he started with a chuckle. "You wanna come in and wait?"

"No, I'll wait in my car", I said flashing him a feeble smile before turning around.

"Nonsense", he said grabbing my arm and pulling me inside.

He closed the door behind me and pushed me up against it.

"Stop acting like you don't want me", he mumbled as he pressed hisself against me.

"I'm not acting", I said and bit my lip. I looked over his face and down his chest before looking him in his eyes.

He put his head in the crook of my neck, gently kissing my sweet spot. I moaned quietly as I felt myself melting from his touch.

"Cee...fuck", I mumbled when he bit my neck softly.

He was making me wet and as I much as I want to hate it, I can't.

"I thought you didn't want to call me Cee", he said with a smirk after he pulled back.

"Shut up", I said before pulling him in for a rough kiss.

.✿.

"Just be my girlfriend again", he groaned as I traced over his tattoos.

"Oakley", I sighed.

"Riley we should stop playing games and be for real with ourselves."

I sighed as I laid my head on his chest and looked out the window.

I felt Oakley's fingertips lightly trace over the tattoo on my back, a faint smile spreading on my lips.

I can't lie. I missed moments like this.

He moved my hair out the way as he leaned down to place a kiss on the base of my neck.

"Please Riley?" He hummed and pressed another kiss into the crook of my neck. He stayed there as his thumb rubbed circles on my waist.

I pulled myself up and hummed as I shifted my body so I straddled his waist, "One more time."

Oakley looked at me with a small smile and an admiring look, caressing my waist, hips, and thighs, making me bite my lip.

I cupped his face and pulled him in for a kiss. He groaned as I slipped my tongue into his mouth.

Both his hands move down to my butt grabbing my cheeks gently. I moaned softly into his mouth.

He pulled back, grinning as he spread his fingers over the backs of my thighs.

.✿.

"Mommy", Tiana said running up to me.

"Hi baby. Did you have fun with grandma?", I said picking her up.

"Yes she got my nails painted", she said and showed me her nails.

"They're so cute baby", I cooed making her smile.

"Thank you mommy."

"You're welcome", I said before kissing her forehead.

"Hi princess", Oakley said as he tickled her chin.

"Hi daddy", she said between laughs.

"You wanna show mommy what I got for you're birthday?"

"Yes", she said smiling.

"Go get it."

"Ok."

I let her down and she ran off to her room.

"So what's this?", my mom asked turning to me and Oakley.

"What's what?", I asked raising a brow.

"I know y'all wasn't in here talking."

Oakley let out a hysterical laugh.

"I just got here", I lied.

"Sure", she chuckled. "We'll see if you just got here in a few months."

"What you mean by that?", I asked crossing my arms.

"Just know I love my granddaughter", she chuckled.

"Momma", I scolded playfully as I realized what she meant. "I am not having no more kids."

"We'll see about that", Oakley mumbled making me elbow him.

My mom just laughed.

[charlie-lec-stories]

Nightmares // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Everyone deals with their own battle, but they are always easier faced together.

Warnings: Abusive parenting, homophobia, abandonment issues, sexism, grief and childhood trauma.

Author’s Note: This is about companionship, we all deal with our own pain and we all have a past that still haunts us. This is about facing those battles hand in hand with the people you love. I wrote this some time ago, listening to 'Return the favor' and 'Therapy', both by All Time Low, and 'The only exception' by Paramore. I highly recommend listen to those tracks. I hope you like the story. Rate: +16 (descriptions of violence)

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The cold wind from outside filtered through a small dent on Max's bedroom window and the contact it made with his uncovered skin made him shiver. He thought about all the other punishments he had endured before over his 16 years of life and he assured himself that it could have gotten worse. Spending the winter night on his bedroom floor, in underwear, was way better than when he had to spend a week sleeping in the back yard because he came in second on an important race. It was also better than when his father left him alone in that gas station, the fear so intense that he ended up crying on the bathroom floor, hiding from the strangers around. At least he was in his home, in his room and he had his stuffed lion to keep him company. He gripped it tightly, feeling a little stupid for keeping such a childish object when he was that old, but it was the only thing that brought him a little comfort. He thought about his mother, who gave him the lion, and wondered what his life would be like if he had stayed with his mom and sister instead of his father. Would he be happier? Would he be as good at racing as he was? Would his mother have accepted him for who he was? He had an answer for that one: Yes. His mother would have chosen to love him anyways, he was sure of that. He wished, with his whole heart, to close his eyes and wake up in a better place, where he was loved for who he was. So he closed his eyes and waited for his wish to come true.

Max woke up in a cold sweat, he could still feel his fingers and toes frozen, the floor against his bare legs. A decade had passed from that night, but he still had nightmares about it once in a while. His childhood always came back whenever he was stressed or with low batteries. It was like his brain tried to sabotage him, filling him with more pain than he already felt. He looked to his left and found Charles sound asleep, his arms under the pillow, bringing it closer to his face, a peaceful look adorning his features. He knew that Charles had his own battles, and that he dreamed of his own nightmares, but how he wished he had the kind of father Charles had. Hervé was a loving husband and parent and even though he left this Earth way too early, he left a wonderful mark on everyone who knew him. His children loved him, his wife Pascale loved him. What did his father do? He also left marks, his mom had an order of protection against him, his sister was terrified of him, and Max did everything he could to run away as far as possible so he didn't have to be near him. If he could, he would bring back Hervé and give up his father. With a sigh and feeling a little guilty for his thoughts, he finally got up. He had to look for his girl, who was definitely hiding somewhere instead of being in bed with them.

The sky was still pretty dark outside, the stars shining on Monaco's natural ceiling, the full moon big over the Mediterranean Sea. He found her sitting on the floor of the balcony, a cigarette between her lips and her eyes lost in the waves that crashed rhythmically on the beach. Charles hated when she smoked, so she did it outside, so the stick of the nicotine wouldn't stay on her clothes. Max didn't like it either, but he tolerated the habit because he knew that it helped her calm down, one day he would make her switch to something healthier. Some day. Before stepping out, he caught a glimpse of the beloved lion on one of the living room shelves, so he grabbed it and hugged it close, a familiar calmness running all over his body. If she heard him walk out, she didn't show, but she must definitely have noticed his presence when he sat down next to her. They were used to the silent conversations, they had had them their whole friendship. Secret gazes, millimetric gestures that only they could read, the changes on each other's skins when the other was around. They were used to the effect they had on each other, so he knew that she felt him there when the hairs of her arms stood up and her breathing changed, because even if she didn't say anything, her body did.

"Which one was it this time?". She asked, not even looking at him.

"The night I came out". He had said it so many times that his voice didn't break anymore.

"That one is tough". The comment was swallowed by the poof she gave to the cigarette, but he got it.

"It was. It always comes back whenever I'm happy with you, but angry at racing". And it made sense, after all the punishment wasn't only for coming out of the closet, it was also because Jos was sure that 'the queerness' of Max would make him a mediocre driver.

"You know that losing this championship wasn't your lack of concentration or skill. Charles is as great as us, and for the love of God, Ferrari finally did things right for once". He knew that, still, he lost and he always had a hard time losing. He lost in 2024 against her, he lost in 2025 against Charles, would he ever be able to win again? "You are a 3 times World Champion, Max. You don't owe anything to anyone, and I can assure you that you're not mediocre".

He pulled her close and took her cigarette away, she was about to complain when he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her deeply. He believed her, every word, and he was grateful that he had her to remind him of the amazing person he was and could be. They pulled apart when they heard movement inside, the curtains of the living room moving aside as Charles walked out to the balcony. Sleep was still written all over his face, but he woke up fully pretty quickly when he felt the dense atmosphere that wrapped them up. He walked over to them, a mixture of curiousness and worry in his eyes as he scanned them over. They pulled apart to make some room for him to sit in the middle, Charles noticed the lion and the cigarettes, understanding the situation. Resting his back against the building's wall, he pulled them to his chest and ran his hands up and down their arms, hoping for it to be enough. He saw Max's grip tighten around the old stuffed animal, the marks of his pyton's grip over the years clear on it. Charles pulled him a little bit closer and kissed his head.

"You're anything but ordinary".

She did all she could to get loose, but the grip on her arm was so tight it was impossible to break. She screamed and kicked as her mother dragged her to the room, she wished that her racing suit was ticker, so her arm wouldn't hurt that much. Her father was crying and pleading behind them, asking for his wife to finally let go, but it was pointless, when had she ever listened to anything he had to say? The mud of her shoes drew patterns on their living room floor as they neared her bedroom and she wondered if her mother was actually going to use the chancla on her. Her body made contact with the carpeted floor of her room and her mother grabbed her face to make her look at her. She screamed at her face, about how she was a disgrace, a 'marimacho', a 'zorra' playing with the boys instead of being a 'señorita', she went on and on about the shame she brought to the family. She reminded her that no daughter of hers would do something like racing, wear the clothes she wore and go around covered in mud and filth like she did. But the girl just muted the rest of the screams, she just let her say whatever she wanted, because she was not going to stop her from chasing her dream. She had just met the best boys in the world and she was going to race those boys for the rest of her life. No matter what. She felt the chancla hit her back, but it didn't hurt her anymore, no when she knew that it was the price to pay for sneaking out to race. Her mother would change her mind one day, but for that day to come, she had to take it today. No. Matter. What.

She woke up to the sound of the front door closing. Max and Charles were probably back from the supermarket. She sighed as he got up from the couch, the feeling of the chancla still lingering on her skin. It was the worst, the rubber hitting on the same place, over and over again, but it was more hurtful to her pride. The humiliation that came with the beating, the screams, the words, the hate on her mother's eyes. She remembered that beating like it was yesterday, because it was the one that changed everything. It was the first time that, when she was finally left alone in her room, she wasn't scared anymore. That week she met Pierre and he introduced her to Max and Charles the very same day that her mother gave her that beating. Meeting the boys and winning a race against them gave her the push she needed to hold on to her dream and never let go. Her motto was born that day: 'No matter what'. She took it to heart, and kept pushing and pushing, she took as many more beatings as she had, but she kept sneaking out, even if her mother dropped the chancla to grab the wooden spoon from the kitchen, even if the skin of her hands was red and burning from the hard wood against it. She kept pushing, and she became world champion. A hand on her back brought her back to reality and she relaxed against Charles' hand once his scent made her aware of his presence.

"Which one was it?". He asked softly as he ran his hand up and down her back.

"The day we met". She admitted, Max placed the bags on the floor and walked up to them.

"It's okay, Schat, you're safe now". She smiled softly at them.

"I know. It's just that her birthday is in a few days". Charles nodded, understanding.

"You know you don't have to go if you don't want to, Amour". It was her turn to nod.

"I also know that. But she changed a lot over the years. I know that we still have out problems and that she's not a fan of our relationship, but I can see that she's trying". Max was a lot less forgiving, but he was also aware that he wasn't the one with the best record of family choices, he still visited his father.

"I agree that she seems to be trying, Amour, and I admire you a lot for being able to see that and be so forgiving. I still want you to put yourself above everything. Take care of yourself, because you're not any of those things she said. You're wonderful, and we are beyond proud of who you are, okay?". Charles placed his hand against her cheek and she snuggled against it. "We are so very proud, Amour".

Charles rubbed his nose with hers, making her giggle a little, and bringing a smile to Max's lips. It always worked, because if there was something that she needed was softness. It was something that her dad did, treat her with gentleness, with love and with trust. He always believed in her, even if he was so afraid of his wife and had to take even more beatings and insults than her. She didn't blame him, but she was sure that she would never make the same mistakes her dad made. So she looked for gentle men, men with nice words and tender touches, nothing like her mother, nothing like who her dad settled for. And she found Charles and Max, the embodiment of kindness, enough for her heart to skip a beat and her shoulders to relax under their touch. It felt good, being able to be loved, laughing on a daily basis, relying on them when she needed and giving herself the chance of being an open book, unafraid and never judged. A lonely tear fell down her cheek and Max caught it before it made it to her jaw, wiping it away with a swift movement of his thumb. It made her look at him, his blue eyes looking back at her with the same adoration they have been for the past decade. Her heart made a few jumps inside her chest. Max pressed his forehead gently against hers, making her close her eyes with him, the feeling of Charles' hand agains the skin of her back, where the burning of the chancla was just a bitter memory in the back of her mind. Max's lips barely touch hers.

"You're a dream come true".

Charles ran, his lungs burning as the air coming inside was not enough to keep his body moving. The fog around the graveyard and the darkness of the night made his heart race faster, the feeling of it threatening to jump out of his ribcage. He called their names into the silence of the dead, but he couldn't hear anything. Does sound really exist if there's no one to hear it? He passed gravestone after gravestone, the names of his family and friends written in each one of them. He cried, the tears blurring his vision as he desperately looked for their names. He didn't want to be alone, in the dark, in the cold, with the dead. The place seemed to never end, filled with all the people he loved but weren't there anymore, the air felt tight around his body, sour inside his mouth, painful coming into his lungs. He kept searching. What would he do if he couldn't find them? How could he keep on living if they weren't by his side? He couldn't be alone, he didn't want to. He needed them, he needed his friends, his family. He kept searching, because it was the only thing he could do, and as the names kept appearing he felt like his heart just couldn't take it anymore. He fell to his knees, two stones right in front of him. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe anymore, the feeling of his lungs contracting for air but nothing going in. There they were, the names he hoped to never see graved in stone, right in front of his eyes. Charles clawed at the grass, removed the dirt, he felt the cold and humid soil under his fingertips as clear as he felt the daggers inside his chest. He just wanted to pass out, to turn to dust right there so he could join them wherever they were, because no life was worth living without them. But he had had this nightmare before, so he knew, he knew that he was never going to pass out, because this was his biggest fear: living the rest of his life mourning his own.

He woke up alone in the hotel room bed, a halo of cold sweat around him and he inhaled as hard as he could to keep his lungs full. He felt a rush of calm run down his spine when he felt the air come in. He searched for the dirt under his fingernails, only to find them as clean as they were when he went to sleep last night. Getting up, he gave up the longest sigh as he gathered everything he needed to jump in the shower. He needed it, he needed to get rid of the stench of the graveyard that still lingered on his nose, the humidity of the air clenched to his skin, but mostly, he needed to wash away the feeling of loneliness that haunted him still. As the water ran down his body, cleansing him like a religious ritual taking away his sins, he felt the same tug in his heart as he did a few years back. The guilt of that feeling settled inside his belly, like a parasite eating him inside out. He remembered the fear of closeness, how he refused to accept that he loved Max and Y/N because he was terrified of ever losing them, how he had found solace in keeping a comfortable distance, how he convinced himself that he was content with loneliness. He refused to love someone because he knew that the grief is as great as the love you feel. But they found their way into his heart and now he couldn't kick them out. He was destined to suffer, to live in pain. To be alone. He heard movement outside the bathroom as he stepped out of the shower. He opened the door to find his partners changing the bedding. They knew that he hated to be alone in the hotel rooms, he ended up getting sick and tired of sleeping alone over the weekend.

"Which one was it, Poopie?". Max asked, even though the messy sheets and the shower were a big hint. He just wanted to be sure.

"The graveyard". He sat on the bed, the smell of clean sheets comforting against the odor of the humid dirt that he could still remember.

"We're still here, Charlie". She reassured him, her hand on his tight applying a little pressure to ground him there.

"But you'll leave". He replayed softly. She pressed her hand more, a little proof to his heart that they were there.

"Everyone leaves, Poopie, but that doesn't mean you'll be alone". Max sat by his side and ran his finger through his hair, a gesture that brought some warmth to his chest.

"You can't know that". The risk was just so much, too great. "The more I love you the more it'll hurt".

"We know that, because we love just as much, Charles". Max pulled him into a side hug, his head resting against the Dutchman's collarbones. "Loving is a risk and we are all afraid of taking that risk. But, I have known since I met you, that there's just one person that everyone is willing to take the risk for, and that person is you. You're the greatest man I know. Loyal, just, kind, hardworking, you are the epitome of greatness. It's impossible for someone like you to ever be alone".

It wasn't just the words, but how they reverberated inside Max's chest, in sync with his heartbeat that made Charles believe him. It was the warm feeling of Y/N's hand still on his tight. They were there, they were worth it, the fear, the pain. He would rather spend his life mourning them if it gave him the chance to have them for as long as Death allowed him. He was still a work in progress, but he was on his way to believing, trusting, risking. He felt Y/N moving to sit on his lap, her hands carefully adjusting the towel around his hips so it wouldn't loose. She pulled him away from Max and placed his head against her chest, her own heartbeat now strongly pumping against his face. It gave him peace of mind. The feeling of them there, Max's hand still on his hair, her soft hands on his face. They made him feel loved, they made him feel like there was hope in life, no matter how hard the road was. And he finally felt like he may be that special person Max told him he was. Maybe he was one of those people that'll never be alone. Maybe, just maybe, he didn't need to be so scared. Y/N pulled him away and pressed her lips to his forehead, erasing the frown that tinted his features. Maybe, he was the reason why they were willing to take the risk of loving, even if their whole lives they had only met pain and hurt. Maybe the risk was as great for them as it was for him, so maybe he was the one they risked it all for, even if they said they would never. Maybe, he was comfortable with loneliness, except when it came to them. And he knew, the moment she mumbled against him, that he was...

"You're the only exception".

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I hope you guys like this one. It's really hurt/comfort and I feel like it turned out great. Like, reblog and comment, like you guys always do. Much love!

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 18

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, grief, sadness, reference to divorce, swearing. Buttercup and Jake are both flawed characters who make mistakes and lead messy lives. Please don’t judge them too harshly.

A/N: Two quick notes. First, I went back and edited Chapter 13 because I screwed up (apparently Jake and Buttercup got engaged twice and I didn't catch it. Oops!) Second, no flashback this time. I figured I had tortured y'all enough. Enjoy!

Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, now

The ride to the airport had been quiet, punctuated by falling rain, thunder, gusting winds, and the tiny sniffles and sobs that Abby tried to quell by pressing her face into her mother’s chest. It took everything inside of Buttercup, every maternal instinct that drove her to protect her daughter against anything and everything that could possibly hurt her, Buttercup probably would have dissolved into tears as well. 

Everything hurt more than it had 12 years ago. Leaving him then, she had been so numb to everything around her, so lost to the creeping darkness and horrific thoughts that had plagued her mind, that it hadn’t hurt. At least, it hadn’t hurt until she was sitting in the airport with her infant daughter and she realized that he wasn’t coming after her, that she had destroyed them so thoroughly that he wasn’t doing the one thing he had always sworn to do: fight for them. And she couldn’t blame him. Who would fight for the woman who had initiated a divorce because she wanted more than to be merely a wife and mother? Who would come running after the woman who was taking one of his daughters away from him? Something had splintered inside of her at that moment, her heart fracturing into a thousand tiny pieces.

Over the past decade, Buttercup had fought to put those pieces back together again. For her daughter, and for herself. Therapy and medication had turned her back into herself, and having Bob and Natasha’s strong presences had helped her find contentment. Not happiness, but something close enough to it that she was satisfied. The biggest pieces of her fractured heart had been sewn back together by the support system she had built in London, and though there were still little fragments floating around, she felt like she could finally live again. She had thrown herself into her work, into the characters and plots that swirled in her mind, and it had become her safe haven, a place where she had control and could guarantee a happy ending. And sure, every so often, one of those remaining needle-thin fragments of her broken heart pierced something inside of her, sending pain radiating through her healing heart and soul, like a piece of shrapnel that was too small to be removed but was still bothersome, but it was infinitely better than it had been before. Not perfect, but manageable. 

Buttercup sighed as she settled further into her first class seat on the airplane, stabbing at her backspace button like it had done something to offend her. The words that had been flowing for over a week had now dried up, the warm glow of creativity now black and consuming as it surrounded her. Her characters, who so deserved a happy ending after everything they had been through, were falling apart and she couldn’t do anything about it. Every time she tried to fix the plot, it created a bigger hole. Every time she tried to alter some aspect of the characters, they became dull and lifeless, and she knew it was a reflection of how she was feeling. Every book she published held a small sliver of her soul, and it seemed that the ache in her chest was being transferred into her characters now, and she didn’t know how to heal them. She had barely been able to heal herself, and certainly not without help. 

Somehow, over the past week, Jake had somehow found those needle-thin shards of her heart that were still causing her so much pain, and had started fitting them back into her ravaged heart. He had done it so gently, so quietly, that she hadn’t even realized he had done it until she had stared up into his smiling eyes that night as he held her close and she felt…whole. Complete for the first time in 12 years. Her feelings for him, complicated as they were, had slammed into her then. He had snuck up on her this time, not like the last time when he had been all bright colours and flash. No, this time he had eased his way into her heart in a way that seemed inescapable, undeniable. 

Buttercup slammed her laptop shut and huffed, staring out the window. Her mind was too frazzled for work, her heart ached too much to focus on anything but him. 

He doesn’t love you, she reminded herself firmly. You divorced him. You left him. You left Charlie. No amount of sweet, small, shared moments can make up for the clusterfuck you left for him. 

A small voice inside of her whispered of the night they shared. Wasn’t that proof that it was more than just small moments? Wasn’t that proof that he cared? He had been so gentle with her, so caring. He had been everything she needed and more, reading her every move, knowing when to be sweet and soft, and knowing when to be rough and harder on her. It had always been like that. They had always been like that.  

It was nostalgia, she argued with that voice. It’s like Nat said. A lot of divorced couples have one last fuck fest to get each other out of their systems. We never did that. That’s all that night was. The choked feeling in her chest made her feel like she was lying to herself, like every part of her knew that that night meant more to her than her brain could ever comprehend. 

Stop it, she commanded herself. If he had it in him to forgive me for leaving the first time, I certainly burnt that bridge by leaving a second time. He doesn’t love you. How could he?

“Mum?” Abby’s tired and tearful voice broke through her hateful inner monologue. 

“Yeah, babe?” Buttercup shook her head as though her brain was an Etch-a-Sketch and she could erase all those inner thoughts. She shifted her body to look over at her sweet daughter, curled up in the seat next to her. Bob was passed out across the aisle, reclined almost completely and taking full advantage of the first class seating. 

“Could you pass me my headphones, please?” Buttercup’s heart ached even more at her daughter’s red-rimmed eyes. She had put her daughter through so much the past week, which was why she had to bring them home. No matter how much her feelings for Jake had bubbled to the surface, she couldn’t risk Abby or Charlie getting hurt again in the fallout. 

“Sure, darling.” Buttercup’s smile was wan as she dug into her bag to retrieve the headphones. “Did you decide on a film to watch?” 

Abby nodded, tilting her iPad for her mother to see. “Charlie and I made a list of all our favourite films. We’re going to watch them in order so that we can talk about them next time we videochat. First up is The Princess Bride. She said that it was her and Dad’s favourite movie.” Her weak smile fell slightly as she added, “She said that you and Dad used to watch it a lot.”

Buttercup nodded, willing the tears from her eyes. “Yeah…yeah, we did.”

“Have we never watched it because it makes you sad?” 

The innocence of Abby’s question had a few tears spilling down her mother’s cheeks. “I…yeah, babe. It’s like…” She paused, trying to come up with a good analogy. “Remember when Heaven died?” Abby nodded. She had loved their dog so much that she thought the pain of her death would never go away. “Remember how you wanted nothing to do with her toys or her leash for a really long time?” Again, Abby nodded. “It’s kind of like that. The memories that come up while watching that film make me really sad, so it’s just easier for me to not watch it. It doesn’t mean I don’t love it, it just means that there’s a lot of feelings mixed up in the film. Does that make sense?”

Abby tilted her head, considering. “Yeah. I understand.”

Buttercup smiled softly. “My sweet, smart girl.” She pressed a small kiss to her daughter’s hair as Abby plugged in her headphones. “Enjoy the film, okay?”

Abby nodded before immersing herself in William Goldman’s fairy tale world. Buttercup clenched her eyes shut as she caught a peek of the pixelated video game that started the film, and turned towards the window. If she could sleep, she might feel better. If she could sleep, maybe she could dream of a less complicated world for herself and her daughter. 

Buttercup yawned and rolled her neck as her small family sped through the streets of London towards their home. She had finally been able to fall asleep a few hours before the plane touched down at Gatwick. Luckily, Bob took charge of getting them through the airport, grabbing their luggage and steering them through customs before leading them to the taxi stand. She was so tired. Tired in her bones and tired in her heart. 

“So, what did you get up to in the plane, Abby?” Bob asked, craning his neck to look back at them from the front seat. 

“I watched a couple of films,” she replied with a small yawn. “The Lion King, a couple episodes of Friends, and then The Princess Bride.”

Bob chuckled. “That was your mom’s favourite movie.”

“Dad’s too…” Abby murmured, staring out the window at the rain soaked streets of London. Buttercup’s writer’s brain screamed about pathetic fallacy and the meaning of it all, while her rational side argued that a summer storm in Texas and a bordering on stereotypical rainstorm in London wasn’t exactly a sign. 

“Yeah…” Bob sighed before grinning back at them. “That’s how your mom got her nickname. And why she got her tattoo.”

“Did you enjoy the film, babe?” Buttercup’s voice was hesitant but she could see the gap between herself and her daughter growing and she wanted to bridge it before it became more difficult to fix. 

Abby nodded, a small smile on her face. “Yeah. It was really good.”

“What was your favourite part?” Bob piped up, sensing his sister’s struggles. “The sword fights? The ROUSs? The Pit of Despair?”

Abby giggled through a yawn and shook her head. “I liked the very beginning. When Buttercup realizes that every time Westley says ‘As You Wish’, he really means ‘I Love You.’” Abby shrugged shyly. “I thought that was really cute.”

Buttercup heard the sound of her brother’s laughter as he and Abby continued the conversation, but Buttercup herself felt frozen. It’s not that she had forgotten that part of the film. Admittedly, that had been one of her favourite parts as well, so much so that she and Jake had woven it into their wedding vows. The words As You Wish had been more popular than the words I Love You in their home, at least before everything had gone to shit. 

But how many times had she heard Jake say those words the past week? At their romantic gazebo dinner, at the diner, after their water fight in his kitchen. He had stared up at her with those forest green eyes from between her thighs and murmured them against her skin that night, sending shivers up her spine and making her see stars. A dozen tiny moments where he had looked her in the eyes and murmured those words. Did he remember what they meant? Was he upset that she had forgotten?

The bridge of her nose burned as her throat clogged with grief and sadness. Had she just thrown it all away because she had buried her memories so deep that the meaning of his words hadn’t even registered?

By the time they got home, Abby was exhausted and bid her mother and uncle a quick goodnight before climbing the stairs to go to bed.

Buttercup watched her go, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She had fought them for the remainder of the drive, but now, in the safety of her home, she felt the weight of grief and anxiety crush her. The relief of being in her own home was drowned out by the screaming voice in her head that warned her that she had made a colossal mistake in coming home. The screaming in her mind and the tension in her body resulted in a massive migraine that made her head feel like it was going to explode.

The cool press of glass against her arm was a welcome relief, and she shot her brother a grateful smile as he handed her the glass of ice water. “Go sit,” he murmured, retreating to the kitchen.

With no energy left in her body to fight, Buttercup followed Bob’s instructions and flopped gracelessly onto the comfortable couch, ice cubes jangling in her glass in a way that sent a burst of fire through her brain.

“Open up.” Bob had never been the type to tease or prank his sister, so she eagerly opened her mouth for him to press the two Ibuprofen tablets against her tongue. Once she had washed them down with some of her water, he handed her the divided bowl of hard pretzel sticks and strawberry yogurt. It was only once she was comfortably situated on the couch with her snack that he sat at her feet, dragging her legs into his lap and pressing gentle fingers into the arch of her feet.

Buttercup wanted to melt into the couch with all her might. But despite her salty-sweet snack, her water, the pain medication, and her brother’s massage, she couldn’t. Try as she might, her brain would not cease the rapid-fire memories that had been torturing her since she had gotten into the airport taxi in Texas. Charlie’s angry face, Jake’s devastation, Natasha’s eyes begging her to stay, Abby’s sobs, and all the times that Jake had uttered those words: As you wish. Which really meant “I love you”.

“C’mon, kiddo.” Bob’s words were gentle and kind. “Talk to me.”

Buttercup couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall as she struggled to speak. “About what?”

“About why you insisted on coming back,” Bob urged, his green eyes soft. “About why you and Abby are clearly miserable here.”

Buttercup choked back a sob, pulling her feet away from her brother so she could curl up on her side. When they had originally moved to London and she had been dealing with single motherhood and her PPD diagnosis, Bob would massage her feet to help her release all her negative emotions. He’d even gone so far as to take a class in order to do it right, finding it helped not only his sister but his best friend too. But in the depths of her grief, she didn’t want to be touched. She didn’t want to be comforted. She felt like a monster, and she wanted someone to call her on it, to make her feel worse.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Her voice sounded ragged and defeated even to her own ears. “I thought coming back was the right move for everyone.”

Bob didn’t look even mildly shocked at the outburst. “Why was it the right move?”

“I…I don’t know…”

Bob rested a hand on her ankle. “C’mon now, kiddo. I’ve known you for forever. Talk to me. I’m a judgement free zone.”

Buttercup’s hand trembled as she took a sip of water. “We have responsibilities here. A home, school, work. People depending on us.”

Bob nodded. “Alright. That all makes sense. But if you’ll let me play Devil’s Advocate for a minute…” He held up a gentle hand at the look his sister fixed on him. “Kiddo, I could very easily take over the deed to the house on my own. Yes, it would feel empty without you and Abby, but I’m sure I would be able to handle it, at least until I would be able to get a job with an airline based out of the US.”

Buttercup was already shaking her head. “You shouldn’t have to uproot your life for us again.”

“I wouldn’t be doing it for you,” he soothed. “I’d be doing it for me too. I like it here, but I think I’m ready to move on.”

Buttercup sniffled. “Okay…but there’s still work and school.”

Bob shook his head with a small smile. “They have schools in Texas. And you’re the one who has a bunch of awards for your work. You’ve worked from home hundreds of times since we moved here. I’m pretty sure you could negotiate working an ocean away if you really wanted to. So, I guess the question is, why don’t you want to?”

Soft sobs filled the room for a moment, punctuated by the rasping sound of Bob’s hand smoothing over her jeans and rain beginning to tap lightly against the windowpanes.

“I…I’m scared, Bob,” she finally whispered, sounding so broken that Bob felt an ache in the bridge of his nose. “I’m scared of getting hurt again if we try. Our breakup was so messy, and we said things to each other that can never be taken back. All we did was fight at the end. I don’t want to subject the girls to that. Can you imagine how damaging that would be to them?”

Bob sighed, reaching forward and snagging a pretzel stick before dipping it into the strawberry yogurt. “You’re a good mom, kiddo. For the past 12 years, you have only thought about Abby and what is best for her. But what if moving to Texas is what is best for her? What if you give things with Hangman another try and it doesn’t fall apart again?”

Buttercup blinked back tears, wrestling with the baseball sized lump in her throat. “It…it feels selfish…I could hurt the three people I love most if we try again, and I fail.”

“I don’t think it’s selfish.” Bob popped another pretzel into his mouth and shook her ankle, not stopping until her eyes were solely on him. “It wasn’t your fault that your marriage failed, kiddo. You were sick, and Hangman crumbled under the pressure. He didn’t know how to handle it and neither did you. You didn’t get the help you needed until it was too late, and he didn’t acknowledge the problem until you were already gone. But you’re better now. And I honestly can’t believe I’m saying this, but so is Hangman. The man went to therapy, for Christ’s sake.” Bob chuckled lowly. “And you’re both older now. More experienced. I don’t think its selfish of you to try again when it could make all four of you very happy. I think that’s brave.”

Buttercup sniffled, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. “I want to be with him,” she murmured, and it felt like a weight lifted off her chest. It was her first time admitting it aloud. “But the divorce wrecked me. It took me years to feel like my heart wasn’t breaking anymore. I…I don’t know if I would be able to heal from that again.”

Bob smiled gently and leaned forward, plucking up her hand and squeezing it gently. “On the slightest chance that things don’t work out again, you would still heal. You’re stronger than you think. And you’d have so many people rallying around you to help you, just like last time. I know you don’t love accepting help, but we’d all be there for you again. And maybe part of the reason it hurt so bad the first time is that you weren’t just mourning your marriage. You were also mourning the daughter you left behind.”

Buttercup sobbed and crumpled forward, arms wrapping around her middle as Bob pulled her close and rubbed her back. “They both probably hate me now. And I don’t blame them.”

“Hangman doesn’t hate you,” he soothed. “If he hated you, he would’ve made you leaving an absolute nightmare. He probably would’ve threatened to take you to court or something. But he didn’t, did he? He let you go because he thought it was what you wanted. And Charlie…she’s still just a kid, Buttercup. She’s hurting and looking to lash out at someone. I can almost guarantee once she’s tapped out of anger at you, she’ll be giving Jake hell for not coming after you.”

A strange sob-snort escaped Buttercup as she rested her cheek against her brother’s shoulder. “You don’t think I’m crazy for wanting to be with him?”

Bob gently squeezed her shoulder. “I think he makes you happier than you’ve been in years. I think that, if you love him, you owe it to everyone to try again. I think that I want you to be happy.”

They both chuckled as Buttercup awkwardly wrapped her arms around him. “You really are the Best Older Brother, you know that?”

Bob chuckled again, adjusting his glasses as a rosy pink tinged his cheeks. “Yeah, well, that’s why they call me Bob.”

Buttercup chuckled, all watery and choked as she rested her head on his shoulder. She remembered when she made him that mug. She was probably 7 years old and had been looking for a Christmas gift for her big brother when her mom suggested making him something at a pottery class. The result was a misshapen blue mug with ‘Best Older Brother’ carved into it so that the first letters of the words lined up to spell BOB. It had made her giggle like a madman as a kid and her mother had been sure that Bob would leave it in the back of his closet. But lo and behold, he had been drinking coffee out of that mug every day since, unless he was on deployment.

“I still can’t believe that made that your callsign.”

He chuckled. “I still can’t believe you never spilled the beans to Hangman, even though he kept calling me Baby On Board.”

She shrugged. “I figured if you wanted him to know, you’d tell him.”

Bob nodded against her head and sighed. “So, are you going to tell him?”

Buttercup sighed, her head pounding. “Telling him I want him but that I’m scared to need him seems like an in-person conversation. And I can’t exactly just turn around and go back to Texas. My editors will be so pissed.”

Bob sighed. “You hold the power here, kiddo. Talk to them. Throw your award-winning weight around and make them listen. What’s more important? Making your editors happy or making yourself happy?”

Another sigh rocked through her as she cuddled down into the couch. She knew the answer, but she also knew that any steps she needed to take to prove herself needed to come after a good night’s sleep.

Buttercup sighed and shut her laptop, feeling more accomplished and more excited about her work than she had in a long time. After a good night’s sleep, a hearty breakfast, and a Zoom call with her editors and literary agent, she was ready to take charge of her life again.

She registered a soft, rhythmic buzzing sound and looked down at her phone. Bob was flying today and had dropped Abby off at her friend Brooklyn’s house before he headed to the airport, but for this to work, she had needed someone to pick Abby up, bring her home, and watch her until her uncle got back around dinner time.

Buttercup scooped up her phone and swiped to answer the phone call. “Bonjour, Genevieve.”

The soft purr of the supermodel’s French accent echoed through the receiver. “Bonjour, mon ami! I would be delighted to watch sweet little Abby for the afternoon while you are away.”

Buttercup sighed in relief as she grabbed her duffle bag. “Thank you so much, Gen! Since Nat stayed in Texas and Bob is flying today, I didn’t know who else to call. I wasn’t sure if you were on a shoot today or not.”

The answering laugh was bright and airy. “No, no photo shoot today, mon ami. I was planning on spending the day with Robert, but since he has to work, spending time with my favourite coccinelles sounds just as good.”

Buttercup felt her lips stretch into a soft smile. She hadn’t been sure about Genevieve the first time she had met her, but the French supermodel went far beyond any stereotypes and was now a close friend.

“Thank you, Gen. Abby should have her keys, but she knows the code to the lockbox if she doesn’t. You know where everything is. I’ll call home when I’m sure about what’s going on, okay?”

“Amuse-toi bien, chérie.” The cheerful goodbye came as Buttercup searched through her bag to make sure she had everything. Passport, a single change of clothes, last minute ticket purchased with all her travel points.

“Bye Gen,” she mumbled as she tucked her phone charger into the bag and hustled for the door, pulling it open and stepping out onto her front stoop.

She felt insane. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. But if she didn’t do this, she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life. She needed to go. She needed to talk to him. She needed—

“Jake?”

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[jungle-angel]

Our Nest (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob are preparing for your little one's arrival and already, shenanigans have ensued

Warnings: Pregnancy, parenthood, Auggie being a menace etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman @callmemana @withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @sebsxphia and the lovely @bradshawsbaby my darling, I leave this as a little gift for you 🥰🥰🥰🥰

It was one of those gloriously warm spring days in Montana when all the flowers were in bloom, the windows of the house open to let in the breeze and the birds singing. The lilacs and the crape myrtles that you and Bob had planted after your wedding several years before had fully bloomed already, releasing their heady scents and causing more than a few sneezing fits.

Bob hummed a little as he organized the bookshelf in the corner of the nursery, right next to the rocking chair. Already Meemaw and Papa had sent over an old box of books that had been his when he was a baby, each one carefully picked with all the love in the world and inscribed with his date of birth and a message from Meemaw and Papa.

"Whatcha got Bob?" you asked folding one of the little blue onesies to put in the laundry.

"All the books that were mine when I was a baby," he answered. "Got Baby's Good Morning Book, Baby's Bedtime Book, Baby's Story Book, the Christmas Stories, Child's Story Book, Child's Fairy Tale Book, Peter Rabbit and.......looks like Winnie The Pooh too."

You couldn't help but ooh and aah over the books and their illustrations. You wished you could have a few of them to hang on the walls.

"Hey!" chirped a little toddler voice. "Get out me swamp!!"

You and Bob laughed when you saw Auggie running to the door with the kitchen broom as soon as the doorbell rang, when who should enter but Jake Seresin himself, greeted by his godson wielding a broom.

"Bob! I think Shrek's at it again!" Jake announced. "He's chasing me out of his swamp!"

"You're the one who had to show him that movie," Bob informed him.

Jake rolled his eyes as Auggie laughed and hugged his leg, hanging on for dear life and giggling like crazy as Jake lifted one leg and then the other.

"How goes Mommas?" Jake said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Good, save for the fact that my husband is right there watching you," you chuckled.

"Hey it's called being courteous, it's technically not flirting," Jake explained.

"Although Natasha might disagree."

Jake made a noise that caught in his throat, his hand moving quickly to protectively cup his denim clad scrotum.

"That's what we thought," Bob said with a shit eating grin.

Jake gathered up Auggie to go and cause havoc elsewhere for the day, leaving you and Bob to finish putting together the nursery. You unpacked all the baby clothes, blankets, shoes and other things your family and friends had sent you over the last few months including adorable little bunnies, puppies, bears, elephants and duckies for your little boy.

"Oh remember this?" you laughed, unfolding one of the blankets from the box.

"Oh, my Uncle Red's wife made that years ago," Bob cooed, holding up the little ducky quilt. "I used to sleep with it every night and Mom had to wrestle it away just to wash it."

You and Bob shared a few laughs as you kept organizing and putting everything together. Outside, you could see two mountain bluebirds in the nest they had made in the crape myrtle, wondering if there were any eggs due to hatch. Already the chicks had begun to hatch while there were more horse and cow births happening at least twice a week. The bunnies too had been hard at work, their numbers multiplying in the last few weeks as well.

"Oof," you breathed, feeling your baby kick. "Oh I know little guy, you're ready."

Bob helped you up from where you had been sitting, letting you lean against him as his hand rested gently on your belly. "Did he drop?" he asked.

You nodded.

Bob smiled broadly as he knelt to kiss your bump. "Now you wait a minute mister," Bob chuckled. "There's still some things we need to get ready for you."

You laughed as Bob pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. He wasn't wrong. Even though you were days away from giving birth, there were still so many things to do in such a tiny time frame.

The next few days were spent prepping the house and finishing the nursery. The laundry and the last of your knitting went smoothly although your cats would have said otherwise. Bluey and Echo, Bob's two blue-heelers, had taken to fetching the oddest things from the other rooms which led to an odd assortment of everything piling up in the living room. But you wouldn't have had it any other way.

At last, the day had come, a warm and calm night when you woke up suddenly after your water broke unexpectedly. Jake and Natasha came to take Auggie back to their place for a while, while your midwife came to the house to help. Bob stayed with you the whole time, just as he had done with Auggie, letting you squeeze his hand as you relaxed in the warm bath.

At long last, on June 1st, at 1:30 in the morning, your sweet little boy, Patrick Lewis Floyd, was born; sharing a birthday with Bob's father Joe. As soon as you were back in yours and Bob's shared bed, he snapped a few photos and sent them to his parents, siblings and the Daggers. It's not long before his phone is flooded with messages, all from the proud aunts, uncles and grandparents of your new little boy.

Joe and Irene, Bob's parents, are proud as ever of their grandson and of you both, more so now that Joe can joke about Patrick being his birthday present for that year. His Meemaw and Papa are all too proud to be great-grandparents again, all of them offering to come by and help with whatever is needed.

You and Bob wake later the next day at the sound of Patrick's fussing in the little bedside bassinet, Bob carefully lifting him into his arms and bringing him to the window to hear the birds singing. Patrick calms right down as soon as he's heard the birds sing and as soon as he's latched onto you to feed.

And when you and Bob are snuggled in your shared bed with Auggie coming in to see his new baby brother, you are both overjoyed and happy at the little nest you've built together.