#I would try my best to make sure she loves them

[pearlymel]

Sylus remembers clearly the day he found out you were both having twins. Twins, as in two babies as yours and his first children.

How you almost passed out when the doctor delivered the news, but he was quick to tell you that everything would be okay.

He's going to be the best husband for you, and for the twins..?

they sure were going to be a handful.

“Sylus!” Sylus' head snapped towards the kitchen, where your voice had come from, “come get your son before i cook him!”

He knew that you were joking. Probably.

the kitchen, one hand holding his little girl's hand guiding her along. "Now, now," he called out as he entered the kitchen, "No cooking the children, sweetie.”

You let out a sigh when you watch the boy run away while letting out giggles, his face and hands full of white flour.

Seeing this, Sylus let out an exasperated sigh as well, his gaze shifting from his running figure to the mess of flour on the floor. "Sorry about the mess he made," he muttered before looking over at you, a sheepish smile on his face. "Go to your brother,” he urges the girl next to him, she nods slowly before running off to him.

“I'll feed him to the ducks one day.” You say with determination, still focused on trying to make this dinner a success after the mess.

But Sylus chuckled at your threat, knowing all too well that you were only half-serious. He could see the twitching in your eyes, but he also knew that you loved both of your children dearly, even if they could be a handful sometimes.

”Though I suspect he would probably find a way to befriend them and make a mess with them.”

“.. why are you right?”

“because i know my children,” he says proudly, then makes slow steps from behind you to not alert you so suddenly, his arms snaking around your waste with his chin resting on your shoulder, “what are you making?”

You smile, “dinner.”

"Smartass," he teased, "I meant what kind of dinner are you making?” he whispers calmly, a soft conversation between you two, with his thumb rubbing ideally on you.

“hm, i could be dinner… but oh well.” you sigh dramatically and he laughs quietly.

You couldn't even continue because you hear a faint “ewwww.” Coming from the corner.

You both glance back at the two heads peeking out from the wall, and you roll your eyes.

"and here I was, having a moment with your mother," he said to them, his voice still low yet amused. "You two really have a knack for interrupting, don't you?”

Your little girl was the first to speak, “it was his idea.” She started quietly, her fingers fidgeting together, but her brother only gasped, “she's lying!”

"Oh, really now?" he’s skeptical, and he approaches both of them with his arms crossed, “Hmm, it's always the innocent ones who lie, isn't it?”

“but I'm not—”

“liar.” The little one huffs and looks away with annoyance, but the minute he could hear his sister im the verge of tears, he knew he messed up.

Sylus was quick to notice her distraught demeanor, his heart clenching slightly at the sight of her on the verge of tears.

"you," Sylus pointed out at the other twin, his voice firmer and authoritative, "did you cause the mess?”

…

Sylus let out a deep sigh, his stern expression softening slightly. He knew he was just being a mischievous little boy, but he also had to nip such behavior in the bud.

"You know better than to blame others for your pranks,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Apologize to your sister.”

The girl sniffled, the threat of tears subsiding as she accepted her brother's apology. She wiped away her stray tears with the back of her hand, a small smile forming on her face.

Sylus nodded approvingly, he patted both of them on their head gently. "There we go, now go back and play together.”

This whole time you were watching the scene with the biggest smile on your face, and Sylus was already prepared for your upcoming teasing words.

“and the father of the year goes to.. you.” ... except he didn't expect this rare sweet statement of yours. He's reminded of why he put a ring on it in the beginning.

"What can I say?" he replied, his voice filled with pride. "I have a talent for handling troublemakers." He placed both of his arms on the counter to your sides, boxing you in, "though, to be fair, they get their mischievous streaks from their mother," he added, and you gasp before turning around. burnt dinner it is.

[fallenclan]

Pls ramble about Maplestar i didn't think much of him at all when he was around

:3

okay so imagine. You are born into Fallenclan as a fresh little kitten. You are told at a very young age that your mom isn't around anymore, but your dad loves you and your two siblings more than anything, and he will do everything in his power to make sure you all are happy and successful. Your siblings are louder than you, more outgoing than you, and arguably more likeable than you, but they look to you as the cat to follow when your dad isnt around, so it's your job to look after them. You're the oldest, after all.

Later into your kithood you are told that your mother died giving birth to the three of you. If you didnt exist, she would still be alive.

You become an apprentice. Your sister is mentored by the cool older cat that is also your friend's mom. Your brother is mentored by one of your dad's best friends, a cat you've known since birth. You are apprenticed to the deputy of Fallenclan--she cares about you, and the clan, but she's also strict, and tells you in no uncertain terms that she expects you to be great. Not good. Great. You think, "If I am not great, is it my fault?" You try your best. You wonder if it is enough.

You become a warrior. Your sister takes on a mate, your brother does, too. Both of them have kits. You never were interested in having a mate, but you can't help but wonder if that's what your clan, your father, wants you to do. Your father, in the meanwhile, takes over the job that your mentor had, and becomes deputy of Fallenclan. Then he becomes leader. He becomes legend. Cats at gatherings say to you, "You must be so proud!" You are. When your back is turned, they say "The son of Goldenstar, he'll be something special, I'm sure."

The deputy, a cat known for her strength, loyalty, and honor, retires, and chooses you out of everyone to take her place. Your father assures you that you'll do great. Your siblings cheer you on and offer their support. You refuse it, politely. You will be a great deputy if you have to pull out all of your fur to do it--and you will do it by yourself. Are you really great if some of your greatness is borrowed? The whole clan depends on you.

Under the cover of night, the clan is attacked. The former deputy dies. One of your best friends dies. Your brother dies. Four kits, six warriors, and one elder die. You are hardly wounded. For moons you keep the night guard and torture yourself thinking about what you could have done to change things. What you could have done better.

Time passes. You age, your sister ages, your father ages. As leader, he has nine lives, but they slowly dwindle. One evening, he's missing from camp longer than he said he would be, and you and your sister go looking for him. You find his body at the bottom of a cliff. You grieve until sundown, and then you travel to receive your nine lives. You see the faces of all the cats you outlived. All the cats you failed. Your niece and great-nephew, your brother, your mentor, your father, your mother. You wake up and it is only you and your medicine cat huddled together in a cave. Your skin hurts, you can feel each fur on your body. You walk home.

You discover that your former apprentice is a murderer. With no other options, you exile him from the clan and watch as he is escorted away. If you had been a better mentor, would he have lived a kinder life? Would he have forgiven his long-time enemy? You'll never find out.

A neighboring clan, which has had it out for Fallenclan since your father was an apprentice, declares war. You run yourself ragged making plans and trying to keep your warriors safe and alive. There are battles, there are scars, but there are no deaths, and the war ends only a few moons later. You congratulate yourself for this feat, and then wonder why it was only when you became leader that war was declared.

Every death that passes, you wonder if you could have prevented it. Every loss that your sister suffers, your nephews and nieces suffer, you contemplate how to fix. You are old now, and there are few Fallenclan cats that knew you before you were an apprentice, before you were a warrior, before you were deputy or leader. You're not a cat, anymore, you are a shelter; protecting your clan and paying little mind to your own needs.

You take a hunting patrol by yourself, late one night. In a dry riverbed, you feel the ground rumble, and look upstream to see a flash flood clawing its way towards you.

You wonder, "Am I fast enough to outrun it?"

You aren't.

[aquaticmercy]

Full Throttle

Summary : Bucky thinks he hooked up with a really pretty mechanic. 

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x motorcycle racer!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : cursing. Sex is implied. Bucky on a motorcycle. Purely self-indulgent fic.

Word count : 3.9k

Note : reader is a MotoGP rider! I’m still reeling from the championship battle last week that I just needed to write this. Also I apologise for everyone who wasn’t tagged in waste a moment! I lost half my notes and I’ve been trying to recover it. Hopefully it’ll be resolved by tomorrow. Enjoy!

Bucky Barnes wasn’t just drawn to motorcycles because they were fast or dangerous— at least not entirely. 

He loved them because of the freedom they gave him, the sense of control when everything else in his life felt it had spiralled into oblivion. Riding demanded focus and precision—all the things he’d spent the last couple of years training. 

When he was on his bike, the world faded away. There was only the hum of the engine, the wind in his hair, and the open road.

And sure, being on the road was fun, but sometimes, all he wanted was a challenge.

That’s when he found the dirt track in the edge of town— a place where he could train for missions that called for high-speed chases— a place he could lose himself for a while. 

It was something fun to do once in a while, you know? Sam would call this a hobby.

The roar of engines and the earthy tang of kicked-up dirt felt like home. In a way, it was strangely meditative. It reminded him of what it felt like to be human— to push himself to the limit, to make mistakes and learn.

Every Tuesday, after training, he came to the track. 

And every Tuesday, so did you.

The first time he saw you, Bucky had to do a double take. You were standing by your bike, helmet tucked under one arm, dirt streaked across your padded leather jacket.

Bucky was no stranger to beautiful people, but there was something about you that struck him differently— maybe it was the confidence in the way you carried yourself or the fire in your eyes when you looked his way. Either way, he was floored.

At first, he figured you were just another skilled rider trying to forget the world. That it was just a hobby, like it was to him. But as the weeks went on, you realised this was your life. 

It must be.

The way you rode was… incredible. Every turn was sharp, calculated. Precise. 

And despite your obvious talent, you never made a big deal about it. Just like you never made a big deal out of the fact that he was the fucking Winter Soldier. 

Of course, you knew who he was—he’d caught the occasional glint of recognition in your eyes. But you never brought it up, never asked for autographs or photos. Instead, you treated him like just another guy at the track.

That didn’t mean you didn’t flirt, though.

Every now and then, you’d throw him a cheeky grin. You’d playfully tell him things like, “Nice lap, soldier,” and Bucky would just blush (which you found adorable, of course).

He would always try to laugh it off, but the truth was, your teasing left his heart racing faster than his bike ever could.

—

Bucky had been working up the nerve for weeks, and today, he thought he would finally bite the bullet. 

Today he was going to ask you out. 

You were wiping the sweat from your brow when he leaned casually against his bike, trying to look more confident than he felt.

“You’re always here on a Tuesday,” he said, before mentally groaning at himself

What the fuck was that? He thought. Is Always here on a Tuesday really the best flirty opening line he had? It was not even an open-ended question. It was just an observation. Nice one, Barnes.

But instead of brushing him off, you paused, setting your gloves down with an amused spark lighting up in your eyes. “Could say the same for you, Barnes.” You tilted your head and gave a casual shrug, acting as if having a stunning super soldier gawking over you wasn’t flattering. “You stalking me?”

The corner of his lips curved upward, the nervous tension melting away ever so slightly. “Maybe I just like the view.”

That earned him a smirk. You let your eyes descend over him—his dark hair falling in perfect disarray, his shirt clinging to his chest under his jacket. “Sure,” you teased. 

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ve got a good reason to show up.”

“Oh?” you asked, stepping closer, tossing your helmet onto your bike seat with a little dramatic flair. “Don’t tell me the Winter Soldier needs more practice catching bad guys on a bike. Thought you had that down.”

“Yeah, well,” he drawled, letting his gaze linger on you. “Never hurts to train. Especially when there’s someone like you around to keep me humble.”

“Humble?” You quirked an eyebrow, folding your arms as you leaned a hip against the leather seat of the bike. “Looked pretty cocky last week, pulling that stunt to take down the bad guy.”

He blinked, genuinely surprised. “You saw that?”

It had been a theft— some guy thought he could steal experimental weapons from an old Stark warehouse and get away with it. Not his cleanest chase, but he did the job.

“Please, it was all over the news. Did you not see the four helicopters following the chase?” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I gotta say, you’re not bad, Barnes.”

“Not bad?” he echoed, feigning offence.

You leaned in just a little, dropping your voice. “I’ve seen smoother turns. If you want pointers, I could teach you a thing or two.”

His lips parted, but no words came out for a moment as he processed how close you were. “You offering lessons now?”

You laughed before gesturing at his bike. 

This was his dirt bike, a recreational bike— not the one he used for the chase last week. Still, it could use a bit of… fine tuning. 

“Tell you what, soldier,” you said, “Fix that lag in your throttle response first. Then I’ll teach you a thing or two about taking corners.”

Bucky tilted his head, narrowing his eyes “There’s nothing wrong with my throttle response.”

“Oh, honey,” you purred, stepping just close enough for your shoulder to brush his. “I could hear it lagging from halfway across the track.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. 

“You saying I need a tune-up?”

“I’m saying,” you said, your voice like velvet, “that if you wanna keep up, you’re gonna need a better setup.”

He couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. He still didn’t have the guts to ask you out that day, but he walked away with hope, that maybe, this could grow into something more.

—

“So, you gonna tell me why you’ve been walking around with that goofy smile lately?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look.

“What smile?” Bucky muttered, immediately defensive.

“The one you think nobody notices,” he shrugged. “Spill it, Buck. What’s her name?”

Bucky hesitated, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t planned to tell anyone about his little crush. least of all Sam, but the look on his friend’s face said he wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“Fine,” he said, exhaling. “There’s this girl.”

Sam grinned. 

“She goes to the dirt track I go to every Tuesday,” Bucky said, staring at the bottle in his hands like it held the secret to not sounding like a lovesick idiot as he told him all about you. 

—

From then on, Tuesdays became his favourite day of the week.

Bucky found himself counting down the hours until he could see you again, his mind replaying every smile, every laugh, every teasing touch.

You became bolder, not afraid of calling him handsome, of touching his arm even if it wasn’t necessary. 

And damn it if didn’t make his heart race.

One evening, after a particularly thrilling session on the track, Bucky decided he’d had enough of dancing around what he wanted. 

Leaning casually against his handlebars, he called out, “Race me.”

You looked up, one eyebrow raising in surprise. “What’s in it for me?” you asked, folding your arms and tilting your head in that way that always made his stomach flip.

“If you win,” he started, “you get bragging rights for a week.”

“A week, huh?” You repeated dramatically, “and if you win?”

Bucky’s lips curled into a slow grin, trying to appear confident even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “I get your number.”

Your giggle rang out, bright and sweet, and for a second, Bucky forgot how to breathe. “You got yourself a deal, soldier,” you said, shaking your head. 

—

The two of you lined up at the start of the track, engines growling. 

Bucky’s focus sharpened—he wasn’t just racing for pride; he was racing for the chance to finally take a step toward something he had wanted for months now. 

When the signal came, you both shot off like bullets, dirt kicking up in clouds behind your tires. Bucky pushed his bike to the limit, leaning into every corner, his muscles strained with effort, grappling the dirt bike for control. But no matter how fast he went, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were holding back. 

You were supposed to be faster, more precise than this sloppy performance you were giving. He’d seen you before. What happened?

As you neared the final stretch, you slowed, just enough for him to surge ahead and cross the finish line first. 

He skidded to a stop, panting and exhilarated, but the smug grin on your face told him everything he needed to know.

When you walked over later and handed him a scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it, you leaned in close enough for him to catch the faint scent of sweat and motor oil. “You won it fair and square,” you said.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his lips twitching with a grin he couldn’t suppress. “You let me win.”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” you feigned innocence, but couldn’t help the grin widening on your face.

He tucked the paper into his pocket, shaking his head.

As you put on your helmet back on, you casually remarked, “Throttle’s still lagging, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Bucky groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Secretly, he was thrilled to keep the conversation going. “I think it’s the fuel filter, but I haven’t had time to swap it out.”

“I’ve got one at my place,” you told him, turning on your engine, “Why don’t you come by?”

His head snapped up, surprised at the offer. “Now?”

“Why not?” 

—

When arrived at your place, he had braced himself for something simple—a cosy apartment, maybe a small cluttered corner dedicated to your bike tools. 

What he hadn’t expected was this.

Standing in the doorway, he blinked at the modern yet homey design laid out before him. The floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the space in golden evening light, reflecting off polished floors and expensive-looking furniture. The view of the city stretched out like a postcard behind you as you stood, arms crossed, watching him with a hint of amusement.

“This… is your apartment?” he asked, taking a step inside. His greasy leather jacket suddenly felt so out of place. His gaze darted over to a marble countertop in the kitchen, a plush couch, and then the walls— lined with the kind of art he’s only seen in high society auctions.

You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Not what you expected, Barnes?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Not really…”

“Ah,” you replied, moving toward a door off the main living area. “So just because I work with bikes, I can’t have nice things?”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered quickly, following you.

You threw a sly glance over your shoulder. “Didn’t have to.”

He tried to think of a witty response, but he was distracted by the thought of you—the way you moved, confident and unbothered, like you belonged in every room you entered.

You led him to a heavy door and pushed it open, revealing a contrast to the rest of the apartment— your workshop.

The workshop smelled like oil, grease, and faintly of rubber, the air swirling with the comforting scent of metal and machinery. The walls were lined with shelves holding neatly organised tools, spare parts, and bottles of lubricants. A stripped-down high-performance bike stood at the centre of the room, its engine exposed, wires and cables hanging loose. 

Now this room, he thought, was undoubtedly you.

“This is more like it,” he murmured, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“See?” You smirked, moving to grab the replacement part he needed. “I’m not as fancy as you think.”

After pulling his bike through the back, he leaned against the wall, watching as you crouch next to his bike and get to work. 

For a moment, he was quiet.

He watched in silence— the way your hands moved with precision, the way you were entirely in your element. 

“So,” you began, glancing up at him. “What’s the Winter Soldier doing on a dirt track every Tuesday, anyway? Don’t you have, I don’t know, a world to save?”

He chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “The world can wait.”

You laughed softly, returning your focus to the filter. 

“I get it, kind of,” you replied, loosening a bolt. “Wanting to get away from everything.”

From then on, the conversation came effortlessly. 

At first, he kept it light, sticking to anecdotes about the track or the occasional joke about his less-than-smooth bike handling in the beginning. But there was something about the way you listened—your easy, genuine curiosity—that made him feel safe, like he didn’t have to keep everything locked away anymore.

At one point, he couldn’t help but ask how someone who worked with bikes could afford a place like this. You only shrugged with a smile, giving the same answer you always did: “I got lucky.” He didn’t press, though he was curious—the ease in which you sidestepped the question intrigued him.

Before long, the conversation drifted again. He found himself sharing more than he ever thought he would. He told you about his missions, the chaos of his Winter Soldier days, the things he’d done and the memories he was still piecing together. 

And you listened—not with pity, but with an understanding that felt rare, even among the people he called friends.

“You’re good at this,” he finally said. 

“Bikes?”

“People,” he admitted, his eyes flicking to yours.

“Well, bikes are like people,” You tilted your head, studying him with a small, curious smile. “Both require care, attention, and understanding to perform at their best.”

When you finally finished, you stood, wiping your hands on a cloth. “All set,” you said, gesturing toward his bike. 

“Thank you.” he said, though he made no move to leave. Instead, he lingered, his eyes on you as you leaned back against the counter.

“So,” you said, breaking the thick silence, your voice dipping into something almost playful. “You gonna stick around, or do you have somewhere to be?”

“Nowhere important,” he admitted quietly.

He took a step closer, then another.

The space separating you seemed to dissolve, his eyes locked on yours, pulling you in like gravity.

“Careful,” you murmured, teasing. “I might think you’re stalling just to spend more time with me.”

His lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile. “And if I am?”

The words hit you like a shot of adrenaline, your heart beating out of your chest. There was no humour in his tone, no hint of the usual back-and-forth banter that had defined so many of your conversations. Just desire staring back at you.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely audible. “I wouldn’t mind.”

He was close now, so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, his metal hand brushing against the counter as he leaned in.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice rough, a low growl in his throat. He cupped your jawline, mustering all the courage she could possibly gather. 

You didn’t.

Instead, your lips parted in anticipation as he leaned in. Unable to bear it any longer, you tilted your head up, meeting him halfway.

The first press of his lips against yours was gentle, and the second was anything but. The restraint shattered immediately, giving way to something feral. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you closer, his lips moving with a hunger that’s been brewing since he first saw you on the track.

Your hands found his chest, sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. You tugged him closer, your chest pressing against his. He let out a low moan that sent a shiver down your spine.

When you finally broke apart for air, your foreheads rested together, your breaths mixing in the narrow space between you. His voice was husky, as if he was still recovering. “I should really take you out on a date first.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands still fisted in his shirt. “You can still do that.”

His lips brushed yours again. “Aren’t you trouble?”

“You love it,” you whispered, grinning wickedly as you pulled him back in.

The next kiss was hotter, hungrier—  it consumed you both. His hands slid to your waist, gripping you firmly as he backed you out of the workshop and into the apartment. 

Your movements were uncoordinated, messy, your lips never leaving his as you stumbled against walls, furniture, and whatever else got in the way.

By the time you reached the bedroom, nothing else mattered.

—

Bucky woke to the soft light peeking through your curtains.

The scent of coffee reached him first. When he stumbled out of your bedroom, he spotted you at the marble kitchen counter, leaning on your elbows with a steaming mug in hand. You were dressed in one of your oversized shirts— and looked far too innocent for all the filthy things you did to him last night.

“Mornin’ doll,” he greeted  as he sat across from you.

“Morning,” you chuckled at his adorable tousled hair. 

“So…” he started, his voice thick with sleep, “about that date…”

You smirked, setting your mug down and sauntered around the island kitchen. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“Sunday?” he offered, watching you with a lazy smile as you perched on the stool next to his.

You shook your head, “I work weekends.”

That caught him off guard, but he didn’t let it show. “Remind me what exactly it is you do?”

“Bikes,” you said simply, the corner of your mouth twitching like you were holding back sensitive information.

He chuckled, assuming you were talking about your mechanic work. “Fair.”

You hummed, but the mischievous glint in your eyes didn’t escape him.

He tilted his head, curiosity tugging at the edge of his thoughts, but he decided not to push. You’d tell him when you wanted to. Instead, he flashed a small grin. “I’ll text you to arrange something, then.”

“You better,” you teased, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You won my number, Barnes. Don’t make me regret giving it to you. 

The challenge in your tone made his smirk widen, his hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “Oh, I won’t.”

—

That Sunday, Bucky was slouched on Sam’s couch, one leg kicked over the side of the coffee table, a book resting on his chest. Sam, on the other hand, was waging war with the TV remote, flipping through channels at record speeds.

“Just pick something already,” Bucky grumbled without looking up.

Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring him. 

“Oh, MotoGP’s on,” he said suddenly, tossing the remote aside.

Bucky didn’t even glance at the screen at first, the low growl of engines and the commentator’s frantic observation was little more than background noise. But something about the sheer speed on display tugged at his attention. He finally looked up— and when he did, he could not take his eyes off the screen.

The camera focused on a Ducati weaving through the pack with a relentlessness that looked… familiar. The rider’s movements were fluid, each turn carved with precision, every overtake risky but calculated.

“Holy shit,” Sam muttered, leaning forward. Sam wasn’t the biggest fan— but he did watch these races from time to time. It always intrigued him, the danger they willingly took to win a race. “Look at—did you see that overtake?”

Bucky didn’t respond, his eyes locked on the rider. There was something about them—the way they leaned into each corner, never hesitating, always pushing for the absolute edge of human limitation.

The commentator’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“And there it is! The factory Ducati taking the lead with that beautiful overtake from the inside line! Unbelievable control!”

The Ducati was now in front, pulling away from the others as the final lap approached. 

Bucky watched, as they flew through a sweeping right turn, knees and shoulders skimming the asphalt like it was second nature.

As the Ducati roared down toward the finish line, the chequered flag waved. 

First place.

The crowd erupted, but Bucky barely heard it. The rider slowed, their gloved fist pumping the air, before coming to a stop after the cooldown lap. 

The other riders were congratulating them, patting their helmet with friendly taps.

Soon, the camera zoomed in, capturing the moment they pulled off their helmet.

And Bucky’s stomach dropped.

It was you.

No helmet, no visor—just you, smiling that confident smile that he knew so well.

Oh. He was stupid. Bucky Barnes was so incredibly stupid.

Of course you were a motorcycle racer. The sleek apartment, the effortless style, the way you moved on the dirt track. The way you told him you worked on weekends— it all made perfect sense.

And yet, somehow, he'd convinced himself you were a mechanic. Of course he did.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, bolting upright.

Sam shot him a confused look. “What?”

“That’s her,” Bucky said, his voice low in disbelief.

“Who’s ‘her’?”

“The mechanic,” he said, gesturing at the TV, as you celebrated with your team of race engineers. “The girl I told you about. That’s her.”

Sam blinked, staring at the screen, then back at Bucky. “Wait—you’re telling me she fixed up your fuel filter?”

Bucky didn’t answer, still staring at the screen. You were heading toward the press now, handing your helmet to a crew member as reporters swarmed you.

The camera cut for a post-race interview. You looked exhilarated, but still composed as you answered questions about your strategy— about the win. 

Then the interviewer threw in a curveball:

“You’ve been on a hot streak lately. Is there anyone you want to dedicate this victory to?”

You hesitated just long enough for a sly grin to tug at your lips. Then, you looked directly into the camera.

“This win’s for a super soldier,” you said, your tone as playful as ever. You made a phone gesture with your fingers and winked. “Call me, Barnes.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped.

Sam burst out laughing, but in no less shock. “I cannot believe you hooked up with her! Bucky, You lucky son of a—“

But Bucky wasn’t listening anymore.

He couldn’t believe it. Of course he could keep up— you were literally leagues ahead of him.

And somehow, you were still into him. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sam said, nudging him hard enough to make him wince. “You gonna call her or not?”

Bucky didn’t answer, already scrambling for his phone. His hands trembled a little as he unlocked it, a smile already tugging at his lips.

He wasn’t sure what he was gonna say when you picked up, but he knew one thing for certain: Tuesdays just got a whole lot more interesting.

-end.

[zepskies]

And I'm SO happy you're back, my lovely Wayne!! Of course, you decide to spoil me with this review the minute you dip back into this hellsite. 😘

(yesss, and don't think I didn't see that chapter you dropped of Polaris! When I get back from my vacay I will be diving into that. I need to know what happens next with our favorite cowboy sheriff 🤠)

I'm very glad and grateful you made the time to start ESC! I had so much fun figuring out Russell Shaw and the Tracker cast -- especially with all them Deanisms. 😏

Diving into the rest of your awesome comments below!! 💕

First of, Professor Goldstein is a piece of work... 😒 I wouldn't blame her for spitting into his coffee every time he calls her sweetheart. But Russell, I see you. She's gonna be so annoyed with him 😂

Oh he's a piece of something, all right. 🙄 She could def pull a Rachel on his ass. And Russell...lmao, you already saw where he's heading with this. 😂

Ooooh, another professor character paired with some rugged Mountain Man 😏 I'm addicted to those couples. She's all business up front, and he's all party in the back (seat of his Chevelle) 🤪

LOLL the way it didn't even occur to me when I was writing this (at first) that I was writing another professor paired with a law enforcement (sort of, in Russell's case), man of action type, like in Take Me Home with Beau Arlen. 😝 I came at it with the thought of, "what if she was Dory's best friend, and they worked together at the university?" I must have a thing for writing nerds who get the rugged, sexy Mountain Man. Not at all fulfilling a personal fantasy.

UGH. The nerve!!!!! Massage therapist????? How about I step on your back with my high heels, bro... And then to go on about his trip and parasailing... Guess it's true. Ignorant people are happier 😂

Fuck YES, I'd be high-stepping up and down his spine fr. 🤣 Ignorance is bliss, I guess? 🤷🏽‍♀️

Or why are campuses so big in general? My university actually had several faculties strewn throughout the city. Sometimes it took an hour and several subway rides to get to your next lecture 😅

Oooh my God, now THAT's crazy! A whole subway ride(s)?? I've worked/gone to school on some big campuses, but that takes the cake. I guess you get your daily workout one way or another lol!

Please tell me Russell's in the room when she said that 😄🤞

Big YEP lmfaoo, and he likes her already because of it. 😂

Ooooh, right! I wonder how much she knows about the Shaws. Not something that comes casually up in the cafetaria I imagine 😅

No it would not, lmfao! But that is something that will be explored (how much she knows) in the chapters to come, for sure!

Love this whole exchange. You're making my dreams come true, babe 😘

Ahaha I had to do the little callback to sriracha fries (and figure out how tf to spell sriracha, first of all. 😂)

I keep thinking he probably has that look now because he was in the army for so long. Young Russell was pretty much young Dean Winchester in a uniform (hello there, soldier 😏)

Ooh that's SUCH a good point (and yumm). It's making me hope that we get a flashback of Russell in his military days someday in Tracker.

Well... It's a toss-up, I'd say 😆

Oh, very much a toss up/personal preference there lmao. I've loved Justin Hartley since his Smallville days as Green Arrow. 😆 But in this case, I felt like Russell would try to claim top billing there loll.

In. His. Car 🚩🚩🚩😂 If any strange man said that to you... 🚩🤣

Honestly, it's amazing how many red flags you ignore when someone's charming and handsome. 🤣🤣🤣

Well, at least, Colter has an Airstream 😅🤷‍♀️

Ha!! True, it's beating out Russell's crusty motel of the week by far, I'd say.

He is a professional flirt. Kind eyes...

Oh don't worry, we're getting to that callback. 😏

Dear God, he does not stop, does he? 😆 (On the show, I loved his persistence with Reenie too, even though it was mainly just to annoy Colter. But you captured him beautifully here with this sort of charm 🥰) PS: schmutz, schlep... I love the sprinkles of Yiddish in this 🤓

In fact, he does not! lmfao That was what I loved about it too -- like maybe half of him is serious, and the other half just wants to needle Colter. 🤣

Aw I'm glad you caught that! lol I'm not Jewish, but for some reason it just felt right for these characters. 💜

STOP IT! And he upgraded too!!! 🤣

He absolutely did!! And this time, it actually worked! 🤣🤣

I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS! Gah, this was fabulous! I'm hooked! 😍👏 Are they gonna stay casual? Something about her brooding and reluctance tells me it's not usually her style? Which means, will he eventually settle? Get out of the dangerous hitman-nomad life?

Ooh my goodness, I'm so glad to hear that, friend! You're right. I don't think I full on state it, but "casual" is typically not her style. Also, Russell is Dory's brother, so she doesn't want there to be any weirdness or awkwardness between them if something happened or fell out between the reader and Russell.

She already knows his relationship with Dory is kind of fragile, in that they're still in that "reconnecting" phase. You'll see more of that dynamic and her thoughts in Part 2, but the rest of your questions will most definitely be explored throughout this little series. 😏

And then there's the stories about their respective families. We already know some about Russell's. How is she gonna react if she learns everything? And there's something odd about her private life as well. Can't wait to dive into that bombshell 😂

There's a lot to unpack there, right? There's a great deal that she already knows through Dory, and some things that are going to be revealed along the way...

Zep, my sweet genius Alex, you've outdone yourself once again. Bravo!!! 👏👏👏

You make me blush!! Thank you so much. 😭🥰 If you like this chapter, then I think you're going to enjoy the rest of the series. I hope it's as fun for you to read as it was for me to write!! 💕💕

A Line and a Half

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: When Dory’s eldest brother comes to visit her at Wyoming University, you don’t know quite what to make of Russell Shaw. But he knows exactly what he wants to make of you.

AN: Okay, here’s my first toe-dip into the world of Tracker with Russell Shaw! 1x12 gave me too many ideas not to explore this intriguing character. This is set before episode 12, but I have a little series I want to sketch out that will continue after this one-shot, so think of this as a “Part 1,” if you will. 😉

Word Count: 3.2K

Tags/Warnings: A kind of “meet cute,” attempts at flirting, and hints of setup for more to come…

You watched, silently simmering, as Dr. Goldstein added yet another packet of internship applications from his graduate students onto your desk.

Applicants that he, as the History Department Chairman, was supposed to review himself. Instead, he’d been adding these hours quite literally onto your desk. 

“If you could review these for me as well, sweetheart. Thank you,” he said. “Get ‘em back to me by Thursday, okay?”

As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name, you once again grated internally at sweetheart, but you tried to keep that cringe off your face as well.

Goldstein barely even met your eyes when he dropped off his burden, and then aimed to leave your office.

“Uh, Paul,” you called out, raising a finger. You stood from your desk as quickly as you could in your pencil skirt, but the man was already out the door. You followed him out, your heels clacking on the tile floor. 

Damn it. Knew I should’ve gone with pants, you said, continuing to hasten after your boss.

“Paul! Just a second,” you said. That finally managed to turn the man’s head off of his phone. He glanced at you while checking his watch.

“About the internship applications…and your midterm exam essays for that matter. Don’t you think—” you started to say, but the man spoke over you.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,” he said, and rolled a seemingly stiff shoulder under his tailored blazer. “Something’s just not right here after my trip to Cali last weekend. I don’t know what I did, pulled muscle or something. But hey, they do say parasailing is a sport.”

You quirked a brow. “Do they?”

You weren’t sure that being strapped into a parachute for a nice air glide over the Pacific counted as a sport.

Goldstein shrugged at your question and he kept walking down the hall. Though he turned back to toss you a pointed finger.

“Need those by Thursday. Thanks, you’re the best,” he said.

You watched him go, as proverbial steam began to escape through your ears. Slowly you pivoted on your heels, and you went back to your office. You grimaced at the large stack of applications. You were pretty sure he padded them with an extra section of midterm exams.

Tapping your nails on your desk, you grabbed your phone next to your desktop and checked the time. 11:30 a.m.

Screw it. I’m going to lunch, you thought.

Dory had to be out of her Intro Physics class by now, which meant she’d be in her office, ready for you to drop in on her a little early. You took up your purse and almost made it out the door…but at the last moment, your anal brain made you turn back to grab a shoulder bag and the pile of applications. Maybe you could knock out a few during lunch.

Friggin’ doormat, as your brother would say. Laughing at you, probably.

You rolled your eyes and headed back out the door with your haul of papers, purse, work bag, and keys, locking your office behind you.

Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?

It was damn near a mile walk from your Humanities building over to Dory’s office on the second floor. Your hands were laden with packets that couldn’t be contained by your heavy work bag, your purse was slipping off your shoulder, and these heels were killing your feet.

It was a miracle you and Dory had ever met on this campus. On your first day of teaching, you’d of course been hopelessly lost. Somehow you ended up at the tail-end of one of her classes in one of the science auditoriums.

She’d been gracious enough to help you, and even walked you all the way to the Humanities building so you could find your World History class before the students decided to just get up and leave. (And after fifteen minutes, they very well would.)

That day, she became your first real friend at Wyoming University. In the three years since, she’d become your best friend.

And now, her door was mercifully open halfway. You pushed it open and stumbled just a little from the transition of tile to carpet inside her office. Your papers nearly flew from your hands, so you struggled to right yourself and contain them all back into the semblance of neatness.

“Hey, girl. You better be ready for lunch because Jesus fucking Christ. Goldstein’s up my ass again and all I’ve had today is a crusty donut from the teacher’s lounge, which I’m pretty sure was stale,” you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.

When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasn’t alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.

He was leaning casually with an elbow propped up on her desk, dressed in jeans and a worn, pale green jacket—a good match for his eyes. He looked a little rugged for Dory’s tastes, but you couldn’t fault her, with the cut of that bearded jaw, and the smile raising the corners of his lips.

“Hey,” Dory laughed. “I see you’re having a good day.”

You bit your lip in embarrassment, probably smudging your lipstick.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve knocked first,” you said, though you could see she seemed to be having an actual good day. Office picnic? Or maybe the handsome stranger was getting ready to take her out.

Dory just waved you in. She stood and set a hand on her companion’s shoulder, and he got up along with her.

“It’s okay. This is my brother, Russell,” she said, and she introduced you in kind.

“Well, hi there,” he said. He subtly took you in with his eyes as he held out his hand. Already you felt your face heating up with more than just embarrassment.

You were a bit shocked as well, to say the least. Dory had told you some…interesting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers. You wondered which one this was, the middle child, or the eldest.

“Hi! Sorry. Again. Nice to meet you,” you said. You tried to hold your hand out to reach his, but a few papers began to spill out. You clutched at them on reflex, but Russell drew in quickly to help you.

“Got yourself a load there,” he said. You agreed with an awkward laugh and a shrug of your shoulders.

“My boss’s idea of extra credit,” you said wryly.

“You can set it down on that chair over there,” Dory said, pointing to one against the back wall, next to a tall filing cabinet.

You and Russell meandered over and managed to set down the stack without casualty. You were able to pull up the straps of your bag and your purse from falling off your shoulder and give him a grateful look.

“Thanks,” you said.

“No problem,” he said, giving you an easy smile back. “I actually crashed in unannounced, so if you two wanna to head to lunch, you go right ahead.”

“Uh, no. I haven’t seen you in months! You should come with us,” Dory said. She grabbed her purse to join you and Russell by the door.

You raised your hands in placation. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, especially if it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. You guys should catch up.”

Dory shook her head and grabbed your hand.

“Uh, uh. I want to hear the latest on Paul’s bullshit, and why you’re carrying half your office across campus. Let’s go,” she said, and gestured at your work bag. “Leave that here. You’re gonna eat and talk to me. No working involved.”

You laughed, but you agreed to her cajoling. With another glance at her brother, and those green eyes that seemed to be dancing, you joined them for lunch.

The three of you ended up at a diner that you and Dory frequented at least once a week. The food was good, the service was quick, and it was close to campus. Wins all around. Russell seemed to be enjoying himself, as he hummed in delight after the very first bite of his Philly cheesesteak.

“Sriracha on fries, huh?” you remarked, gesturing at the man’s plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile.

“I said avert your eyes,” he teased. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.”

Ugh. Another sweethearting man. You narrowed your own eyes at him a bit. He caught the look and raised a hand in defense (the one that wasn’t holding his cheesesteak).

“Uh oh. What’d I do?” he asked.

“You gave her some PTSD,” Dory said with a laugh. “Dr. Goldstein likes to sugar coat his demands with sexism.”

Russell noted your souring look with apology. You’d just finished recounting your morning for your friend, and recapping years of “sugar-coated demands” for Russell.

“Why don’t you just tell him to cram it up his…uh…” he paused. Seeing his little sister’s look of amusement, he amended. “Or you know, stuff it.”

A smile twitched at your lips. “Oh, believe me, I’d love to tell him to stuff it. But he’s technically my boss, and the department chair. Even though I’ve basically been doing his job for two years now.”

“Well, that sucks,” Russell said. “And I feel for ya. I’ve had my share of shitty bosses in my time.”

You sighed and accepted his commiseration with a nod.

It wasn’t fair, but Goldstein planned to retire early in a few years. Must be nice.

When he did, it would make you the most likely candidate to replace him as department chair. The way you saw it, this was giving you plenty of practice before you (hopefully) inherited the position.

Anyway, you shook your head. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You were more curious about one Russell Shaw. You now knew he was an army vet, and he carried himself like one. Calm, controlled, even though his smiles came easy. His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.

“So let me guess. You’re…the eldest?” you asked. You blotted at your mouth with a napkin, having finished your chicken panini.

Russell treated you to another one of those smiles, though this one held a hint of more.

“Guilty. Though I’m the handsome one,” he said with a wink.

You found yourself smiling behind your napkin.

“I’m sure,” you replied.

Dory rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. Apparently my brother’s an incorrigible flirt.”

He chuckled and sipped at his beer, but then he grimaced.

“Ech. Friggin’ weak,” he said. “I brew better than this outta the trunk of my car.”

 You raised a brow at that. “You make your own beer?”

“Damn straight,” he said. His gaze turned a hint more playful. “Next time I’ll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.”

You shared a telling look with Dory.

“Next time, huh?” you asked.

“Sure,” he inclined his head. “I pop into town from time to time. Gotta check in and pester my little sister, the physics professor.” 

He laid a hand on Dory’s shoulder, squeezing warmly. You could see the pride in his eyes, and it warmed you as well.

She turned to him with a smile, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.

“You don’t pester me. I’d love it if I got to see you more often,” she said.

“Ah, I know, I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her. “My job’s got me all over the place. But I’ll be here for a week or so on this gig.”

That intrigued you. “What do you do for work?”

“Ah, well, you could say I'm a contractor. Private security mainly,” said Russell. His shoulders shifted as he became a little more guarded, you noticed. “My company connects me with the client for as long as the job lasts. Could be a few months, sometimes a few days, depending.”

“Oh, wow. Do you live here in Wyoming?” you asked. He paused, but tilted his head a little, back and forth as he considered your question.

“I kinda bounce around,” he said. “Just go from one job to the next. Sounds a bit unorthodox, I know, but it’s a living.”

“Interesting,” you nodded, but inside, you thought that sounded like a hard way to live.

Unstable…and lonely. 

“You know, it’s amazing how much you and Colter have in common,” Dory said. She folded her hands on the table and met her brother with a pointed look.

He huffed in response, though he glanced at you, then back at his sister. As if he was saying, You really want to do this now?

Dory had told you before that Colter was a “rewardist,” or some kind of bounty hunter. The nature of his work kept him busy, and seemingly too busy for his sister. But you also sensed there was an edgier history here.

For the first time, you felt like you were intruding in a moment between brother and sister that went beyond words.

After a moment, Russell shook his head.

“Look, I tried with him, all right? He won’t talk to me,” he said. He went back to eating, polishing off his fries. He offered you one that was half-smothered in sriracha.

“Come on. Live on the edge with me,” he teased.

You eyed the sauce-covered fry in distaste, but after glancing up at his more playful smile, you accepted his offer. You chewed in contemplation, and found that the tangy hint of kick wasn’t so bad. 

“Eh? Eeeh? Delicious, am I right?” he said, his hands going wide.

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded in agreement.

“It’s all right,” you replied.

“Yes!” Russell’s hands swept up higher, like he was celebrating a touchdown. "See, I told ya."

You couldn’t help but laugh. Dory shook her head fondly and gave him a clean napkin for the bit of schmutz she spotted at the corner of his mouth.

“Here, wipe your sriracha face.”

“You really don’t have to,” you said, as Russell helped you gather your stack of papers and slung your work bag over his shoulder.

“No, no. I’m a bonafide gentleman. Ain’t that right, D?” he asked his sister. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but she did give you a knowing smile.

“Oh, his intentions are pure,” she said.

 And by that, you both understood her meaning. His intentions couldn’t be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.

This man really carried your stuff from the Sciences building across the entire campus to your office. All the while, he asked you about how you and Dory met, the kinds of things you two did together, and if you thought she was happy working here.

You had a feeling he was trying to learn more about his sister’s life. On one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other, it made you realize that there was distance in this family, both literal and figurative. You were glad to hear that Russell, at least, was trying to bridge that gap with his sister. Dory deserved to have more of that in her life.

As you explained to Russell while you led him down the hall to your office, your friendship with her had just…clicked. From the very beginning.

“Dory, you know. She’s more than kind,” you said. “She’s a real one. I can rely on her, even when I can’t rely on my own family.”

Russell hummed at that. “That sounds like a story.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing away for a moment. You smiled and met his gaze once more. “Maybe one for another time.”

“So you’re on board with a ‘next time.’ Good to know,” Russell remarked. Your smile deepened.

It was good timing when you two finally reached your office. You unlocked it and let him inside, so he could set down your bag, and the god-forsaken stack of internship applications back onto your desk. You’d probably be stuck here working late on those.

“Well, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to schlep for me,” you said.

When you turned, Russell was a bit close. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make a trill of something zip up your spine. You smelled more intensely his cologne, woodsy and warm. Looking up at him, you once again found his smile.

“It’s no problem,” he said, but his eyes met yours for a moment, as if he lost his train of thought.

“What?” you asked, a bit nervous.

“Anybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?” he asked.

It took your brain a second or two to compute, but when his words registered, you had to laugh. You held it behind your hand, while the other went to steady yourself on your desk.

 “Well, that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” you said, shading your “soulful” eyes with a hand.

You didn’t know it, but Russell’s face warmed in slight embarrassment. He recovered though, taking in your pretty laugh, and the shade of your hair, let loose around your shoulders, and yes, your eyes, when you let him see them again.

If he hadn’t known before, now he was convinced.

He wanted to see more of you before he left town.

“Hey, now that was 100% genuine,” Russell said, but his grin spoke volumes. When your mirth died down, he scratched the back of his head.

“Okay, cards on the table. Would you be interested in grabbing a drink with me sometime?” he asked.

You took in a breath at that. You actually did consider his offer, because homebrew and sriracha fries be damned, there was something more to him. It was lying in wait, behind those eyes that were drawing you in.

However, this was also a man whose job basically made him a nomad. It didn’t exactly scream relationship material.

Which only left the alternative: something…casual.

You just didn’t know if that alternative was such a good idea. Not with your best friend’s brother.

“Just a drink. No frills, no more grilling you about my sister,” Russell said, breaking you from your deliberation. He gestured a hand between the two of you. “Just this. You and me.”

Eventually, you sighed. Your lips raised into a more genuine smile.

“Sometime, huh?” you asked.

He smiled back. “Tonight?”

You hesitated, but despite your better judgment, you nodded before you could change your mind. You still weren’t sure what to make of this guy, but you were willing to find out.

“Sure,” you said. “Howley’s at eight?”

“Well, all right,” Russell said.

He surprised you by sweeping up your hand into his. You looked up at him, curious, but not wary. Anticipation tingled down your spine.

He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. Soft shock made your eyes widen as you blushed, feeling the subtle graze of his beard against your skin.

Who is this guy, Cary Grant? you thought.

But when he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. Again, you caught sight of his cheeky grin.   

“See you tonight,” he said.

AN: He is beauty he is grace, he is Mr. Sriracha Face. 😆

Let me know if you guys liked this! 💜 It's my first time writing a character based solely on one episode, but next up is a series that will continue this one-shot. It's called Every Second Counts.

Next Time in Part 1:

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still on the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 1

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[mywritersmind]

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4

↳ pt.3

summary : Feelings are complicated and you and Lando aren’t a great mix to express them. A tension filled boat that leads to sexual chemistry so thick that you end up in the same bed.

og summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.

listen up : ho this is long. suggestive comments!! hope you like part three!!! muah! previous part

word count : 4142

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Boat day! Boat day!” Alex chants while walking down the dock with Lily on his shoulders. I woke up to over a hundred texts to get to the dock with a swimsuit and sunscreen.

Charles’ friend doesn’t just have a boat he has a fucking yacht. It’s not gigantic but it’s definitely the nicest boat I've ever seen. “Uh Charles… you do know how to drive this, right?”

Alexandra shares my worried stare as Lando and Carlos race each other onto it. Kika throws her arm around me and grins as we walk onto the back. There’s four steps and my jaw drops as we go ‘inside’.

There’s a huge couch that turns into a dining area, a TV, followed by a small kitchen. Kika and I hurry to the front where there’s one day bed that shaded and one in the very front that’s for tanning.

Apparently there’s three bedrooms and two bathrooms! “I think I need a yacht.” I say to Kika as we check out the table and chairs on the side.

She looks like a mermaid today, in a bright blue bikini and sparkly nail polish. I’ve taken more of a siren route in dark red.

I’m all for woman doing things in ‘male’ fields, but I let the men figure out how to get the boat working. Alexandra, Lily, Kika, Rebecca and I, put our things down in one of the rooms and make our way to the Bow where the sun is hitting us perfectly.

Rebecca pulls off her shirt to reveal a light pink one piece while Lily runs over with a speaker in a multicolored bikini. We start blasting Dominic fine as Charles evidently figured the boat out, and we start to leave.

The moment we only see clear blue water, the girls turn to me. I’m laid out on the tanning bed, sunnies on and fully ready to take a sunny nap, but Rebecca pokes me.

“So, you and Lando are still alive!” She says the obvious as I sit up and lean against my arms, “How’d it go!?”

I want to tell them everything. I want to tell them that It was genuinely fun and I had a great time and i’ve never laughed harder, but I can’t. I shrug, “It was okay.”

Alex eyes me, “Just… okay?”

I nod, “He fucked up my plan so we didn’t go anything crazy and we got kicked out of a pottery place.”

Kika perks up at this, “Pottery? Did he do that thing like how the movie stars do it?” She gets behind Lily as they start to recreate those weird sexual pottery scenes.

I roll my eyes, “No. Like I said, we got kicked out. Then we just went to the hotel and split up.”

Lily frowns, “Lando said you two got a drink.”

Shit. “Oh right, I went to sleep pretty early.”

Kika groans and falls down next to me, “So nothing happened at all? No flirting, no kissing?”

Lots of flirting and fuck yes kissing!

I love my friends, and I trust them! I just don’t trust them to not tell their boyfriends. “Did you have this ‘couples day’ just so Lando and I would have a chance of hooking up?”

Lily leans in, “So is there a chance!?”

I look at all of them to make sure everyone is listening, “No chance! I told you I wanted to have a fun vacation which does not include you trying to set me up!”

Rebecca slouches a bit, “You’re right.”

“Sorry.” Alex mumbles, “We just feel bad.”

“It’s not your fault i’m single and you’re not.” I stand, “I’m going to get some water.”

My plan to hide away on the couch is immediately ruined by Lando taking up the whole thing. He’s scrolling on his phone, shirt and shoes off.

I turn quickly and go downstairs, running into Pierre, “Hey Y/n! Looking for something?”

“Uh… water?”

There’s a little mini fridge that he pulls a bottle from, “You okay?” Pierre is sweet and it makes me happy for Kika.

“Yeah!” I open the bottle and drink.

“Just that… Lando told us what happened.” I choke on the water, coughing as his eyes get panicked, “What!?”

“Are you- Uh… He just said that you two ended the night weird. We all thought it would magically turn you into friends but I guess not.” Fucking hell he just scared me so bad.

“Oh! Right… I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.” So everyone was rooting for us to become friends yesterday?

Pierre just shrugs and moves past me, walking up the stairs without another word.

⋆༺

LANDO

I’m playing poker with my friends while the girls dance around the front deck. We’re anchored on the water and after an hour of swimming, we all needed to pause.

I’m shit at poker but it doesn’t matter because i’m already distracted by the shadow of a girl through the window.

I kissed her. I kissed her and she’s avoiding me.

I think i’m an idiot but I know i’m not because anyone smart would fall for her. Not that I'm in love or anything, I’m just… intrigued?

“Lan?” Alex kicks me under the table, “What’s got you so uninterested in money?”

I just shake my head and look back down at my cards, “Something happened, didn’t it?” Pierre asks, clocking my weird mood. “With Y/n.”

“No.” She would kill me if I told, and I already said too much by drunkenly explaining that the night did not end well to Alex and Lily.

They would definitely tell their girlfriends, so I keep my mouth shut, “You’re a shit liar.” Carlos says, “But whatever, None of my business.”

Charles frowns, “Totally our business! We all love Y/n and want to know what happened!”

“Nothing happened.” I shake my head, taping a chip against the table, “Drop it.”

Just then, Y/n walks in while clutching her hand, her face scrunched up, “I need a bandaid asap.” Charles stands quickly and grabs the first aid kit from a cabinet, “Your girlfriend pushed me off the boat!” She points to Pierre who cringes.

She’s soaking wet, her hair dripping water onto the floor as she crosses her legs. She's in a red bikini and I think I might faint.

I instantly feel bad when I remember her hand is bleeding and i’m just checking her out. Kika runs in, “I’m so sorry, Y/n!”

Y/n just shakes her head, walking over to the kitchen and washing off her hand, wincing at the pain, “Don’t worry It’s just a scratch, i’m just joking.”

I stand and walk over, looking over the sink to get a better look at her hand. She’s got a cut along the side of her hand, bloody and sort of gross. “You sure you’re okay?”

She nods without saying anything, just turning to Charles who has his kit ready.

I bite my lip and sort of awkwardly walk towards Carlos who’s already watching me. “The fuck did you do?”

⋆༺

YOU

Besides my little incident with my hand, I’m having a great time.

Charles drives us to a secluded area with caves which you can swim in. I personally stay out in the open air but Rebecca, Pierre, Charles, and Alexandra check them out.

I sit in a tube with my head tilted back and my hair floating around me. My stomach and chest are warm while my back is cold against the water.

Someone dives in near me and I can hear my laughing as they jump and flip off the boat. I regret opening my eyes as soon as I do because I catch Lando back flipping off the boat.

It’s one of those moments where I don’t remember why I don’t like him. I suppose that’s not as true now, but seeing him flip off is still hot as hell.

I end up dunking and swimming back to the boat, sitting on the back where my feet dangle in the water. I know Lando’s the one walking down and sitting next to me before I see him.

“Hey.” He sounds nervous and quick.

“Hi.” I stand and walk up the stairs, screwing up my face and mentally yelling at myself. I hide in the kitchen, grabbing some fruit before venturing out to sit with Lily and Alex.

They’re all cuddled up and giggling so I spare them my company and sit at the table on the side of the boat.

The music is quiet and I can hear my friends talking across the boat. I bite into a strawberry and stare at the water below.

My anxiety is through the roof and i’m on a boat in fucking turkey. I’m annoyed that Lando just being near me is making me on edge.

As if he heard me, his head pokes out from behind the door, his hair wet and his eyes shining. “We’re gonna take off soon. Might wanna hold on cause of Charles’ driving.”

“Ok.” It’s like I can’t control my feet. I just stand and walk past him, giving him a quick smile and leaving him.

I then interrupt Alex and Lily, loudly stepping down the steps so they sit up. I hear everyone else getting out of the water and Lily can tell something wrong immediately.

“Could you get me some water?” She turns to Alex who gives her a quizzical look.

“You can’t do it yours-” She gives him another look which he immediately understands. Alex leaves quickly and Lily hurries over to me. I sit with my knees to my chest as she puts her hand on my arm.

“What happened? For real this time, what’s wrong?”

I look up at her, our friends walking past and up to the kitchen. I try to say it but I just groan and shove my face into my knees, “Y/n!”

I mumble it but she pokes my face so I look back up at her. I take a breath and force it out, “Lando kissed me.” And then she screams.

I shove my hand over her mouth so fast that her scream is muffled. We practically wrestle as she tries to get my hand free, “Lily!” She licks my hand and I gasp, pulling it off her.

“I’ll stop! I’ll stop!” She shuts her mouth and sits on her feet, staring at me, “We saw him last night… He looked drunk and completely in a different world.”

I groan into my hands, laying back on the cushion, “We were drunk! Sort of… We had a great day and it was actually fun like the type of thing friends do.” she nods at my words, “But then we were on the beach drinking and joking and he just… kissed me.”

Lily leans in, whispering, “Did you kiss him back?”

I bite my lip at the memory, nodding slowly. She screams again. I lay face down on the cushion as she taps my shoulder repeatedly and the boat starts to move. “Was it like a peck or make out?”

My cheeks get red so she already knows the answer, “Who stopped it?”

“Me? I think.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes… God, Lily!” she’s smiling at me again, “He’s a good kisser. Also please don’t tell anyone! Especially the girls. I just don’t want it getting around or making anything awkward.”

“Of course I won’t! Even Alex, I promise.” she attaches her pinky to mine and grins, “I have so many questions and we will talk about this later but I have one thing I need to ask.”

I sigh, “Go ahead.”

“Do you want it to happen again?” I think I'm going to be sick.

⋆༺

LANDO

I find Lily and Y/n at the front, Y/n looks panicked at my appearance. “Can I talk to you?” She looks at me, then Lily.

I actually think she’s going to jump off the boat to avoid talking to me. But instead she goes for a quicker route, “I gotta pee.” I roll my eyes as she runs inside, slipping a bit at the wet deck.

Lily and I both watch her run, she just blinks and shrugs, “Good luck with that one.” She probably told Lily and it’s making me ultra aware that she knows I kissed her friend.

I settle back inside on the couch, listening to Charles tell a story while my eyes are completely distracted by Y/n laughing with her friends and eating raspberries.

I need to talk to her. She’s got a good poker face when she isn’t blushing and it’s practically impossible to get her alone.

“What about you, Lando? The only single one left!” Alex laughs and nudges my arm.

I laugh awkwardly, “Right.” I know the girls can hear this and I don’t want it to continue.

“So… how many models are you talking to?” Carlos asks as I scratch the back of my neck.

I shift my gaze to Y/n, who’s looks frustratingly good with her back arched, her elbows on the counter, and her eyes trying not to meet mine.

I run my tongue over my teeth and look back at Carlos, “You really wanna make that joke when your girlfriends a model, Sainz?” His face drops immediately and he punches my arm.

Charles and Pierre are crying laughing, “You two really wanna laugh?” They shut up real quick which makes me hear Y/n’s laugh.

It makes me smile and as soon as I realize why, I stop. “What about that girl you were debating on bringing?” Pierre snaps back fast.

“Hey, I was drunk and-”

“Pussy whipped!” Pierre coughs as Kika throws a raspberry at his head.

My friends start a new conversation (per the girls request) and move it out to the deck, Charles and Pierre arguing in french while they drive. I watch Y/n excuse herself and slip inside, and I follow.

I corner her outside the bathroom, her hands brushing through her half dried hair. She freezes, “Excuse me.”

She tries to walk past but I don’t let her. “Did I overstep?” She looks at me confused still, “Because I feel like an asshole.”

“No… You didn’t overstep.”

I groan, placing my hand next to her head against the wall, “So then talk to me.”

She crosses her arms, “I don’t want to.”

“Tough shit. You kissed me back.”

“I wish I didn’t.” She’s not looking me in my eyes and I haven’t been able to forget how she kissed me so I know she’s lying.

I step closer, “Try again, pretty.”

She looks up at me, her mouth pouty and her eyes big. “It was a mistake…”

I frown, “Mistakes can happen more than once.”

“Not this kind.” She lets out a breath, “I can’t stand you.”

“So use me.”

She opens her mouth, then shuts it. Y/n bites her lip and it takes everything in me not to physically whine. “You’re not mine to use.”

“I’m offering.”

“I’m rejecting.” that hurts way more than I expected.

“I’ll get on my knees.” Her hand goes to my arm that’s braced against the wall, her touch is soft and makes me weak.

I swallow and she clocks it instantly. “Go on, then.” I think I'm dreaming, but I’m not one to pinch myself.

I slowly sink to my knees, my hand trailing down the side of her body. I didn’t think she’d say yes. Right here? Where anyone could find us? I’ve never been more down for anything in my entire life.

She smiles, cute and innocent as if i’m not kneeling in front of her. God she’s beautiful. Her tanned leg moves to my shoulder and just as I think she’s about to pull me in, she shoves me back down.

I stare at her from my new place on the floor, her smile much wider now. She gets down to my level as I try to pull myself back up, she pushes me back down. “In your dreams, Norris.”

I breathe out as she walks up the stairs, my view cushioning the embarrassment I feel, “Trust me, you will be.”

⋆༺

YOU

My lovely friends have decided to have another lovely couples night. I honestly am excited to have a moment of peace after today's day.

I get all dressed up in my favorite outfit. A red cocktail dress that fits like a glove, white heels, and my hair wavy and salty.

I’m in a great mood, it’s the type of mood where i’m avoiding everything but am by the ocean so I can’t be sad! Everything is nice and well until I get turned away at the restaurant.

It’s the one place close to the hotel that I haven’t been, “I’m sorry, there just isn’t any table for tonight.”

So it appears that every single person has decided to settle down and wallow in self pity at this restaurant, “Please!”

“I’m sorry, we just can’t have you sit unless you have another-”

I hear him swear before I see him. He’s dressed up too, arguing with another waiter as he sets eyes on me, “Great.”

Lando’s face below me flashes in my mind as he looks at me as if he wishes I was anybody else, “I’ll eat with her.”

“Don’t seem so happy.” I cross my arms, my clutch in my hand as he walks closer.

“My beautiful date.” The word beautiful makes me drop my annoyed expression and I'm lucky he’s looking at the hostess, “One table, for two, please.”

We’re shown our table, given water and ordered drinks, but I refuse to talk first. Lando seems to have the same idea, sipping his drink and looking out at the dark water.

Still, He clears his throat and looks at me. His jacket is hung over the chair, a curl falling just perfectly down, and with his green eyes in the moonlight, he looks like a prince.

“Have a good day, pretty?”

“Are you small talking me now, Norris?”

His brow quirks as he brings his glass to his lips, “You’ve been ignoring me all day, what else am I supposed to say? Would you rather me beg?”

Maybe I would. “I saw Kika push you into the water today. You hit your head?” I fake pity, pouting.

“I must have because suddenly I'm imagining a very pretty girl run her very pretty hands through my hair.” He sits up straighter, “Hm… must be the head injury.”

I thought I would be more upset because of our dining situation. But I find myself smiling as he teases me. We order and he does the oddest thing… he starts asking me about my life.

“I know you. I’ve been around you. I’ve kissed you. Yet I don’t even know where you live.” I’m surprised but should I be? Just because I didn’t like him, doesn’t mean I didn’t laugh at his jokes.

So we start talking. And for about an hour and a half, it’s all we do. We talk with a side of food and a beautiful view. We talk about Formula 1, we talk about my work, we talk about my hair, we talk about his family.

He asks me about my pets and he doesn’t complain when I make a jab at his food which is plain as can be.

It’s the first time that I really believe we could be friends. It’s when I truly see the potential that my friends have seen. “We were too alike.” I snap my fingers together, swirling my pasta, “That’s why I hated you.”

“So you hated yourself? That’s quite harsh, pretty.” He’s finished his food, and is lounging in his chair. The restaurant is almost empty, we could sit wherever we’d like and leave too, but I keep talking.

“No. I mean you just clashed with me because two of the same personality is too much.”

“I think I think ‘too much���. Has me enjoying our date.”

I shake my head, “Not a date.”

“Totally a date.” He winks and I drop the subject.

“I think I didn’t like you because I liked you.” He says it so casually that I almost don’t understand it.

“What?”

“I really like you.” He nods and I wonder how many glasses of wine he’s had, “Y/n, i’m not drunk. I’m just honest. Don’t freak out i’m not gonna get down on one knee…” this makes him smirk, “Or two!”

“You can’t just dislike someone because you fancy them!”

“I don’t fancy you! I just… like you. I like the way you are around me and I really liked messing with you. You’re easy to frustrate.”

“I am not!” He raises a brow and I shut my mouth.

“Let’s get going… everyone’s party already at the beach club. You wouldn’t want to miss your local lovers.”

“Um… are you dining and dashing? We have to pay.” He scoffs. Actually scoffs at me!

“I already did. Come on.” He takes my bag and walks out.

At my request, Mamma mia plays from his phone as we walk down the path next to the beach. I spin around with my heels in my hand and my hair in my face. “Why can’t I live on an island!?”

“Why can’t you?”

I eye him, “I’ll live on an island when you buy me one.”

“Woah- I bought you dinner and you just started to tolerate me… Save the island for next week.” I smile and almost trip over something that hisses.

“Aw!” I practically scream and kneel down to it. It’s a tiny cat, orange and brown and rubbing against my outstretched hand, “Oh my god!”

“It’s gonna bite you.” I just roll my eyes and tug at his pant leg to join me.

The cat takes to him immediately, rubbing up against his leg and clawing up to his chest. I laugh as it falls off and comes back to me, “Cutie…”

I scratch its ear with my nicely done nails which he clearly appreciates. He starts licking my hand and I wish I had something to feed him. A small smile settles on my lips as the cool breeze brushes back my hair.

I look up to see Lando staring at me. “I really did mean it, when I said you were beautiful.” I feel a little sick at his words. The good kind of sick. The butterflies kind of sick.

The cat runs away when someone joins us on the path and I stand with him, “We should hurry, party time.”

⋆༺

LANDO

She left her purse in my room. We were heading back and I had to put down my jacket so we stopped in my room.

She left her bag which explains why she’s standing at my door in a matching pajama set and hotel slippers on her feet

“I need my mints.” She pushes past me and looks around for it. I help her because I have no idea where she put it either.

She had guys buy her drinks all night. You have no idea how much it killed me to see them all over her as if she wasn’t having dinner with me an hour before.

“Your room is a mess.” she says as she tears apart my nicely made bed.

“You’re tipsy, huh?”

She giggles as I lean against the door frame. She falls on my bed and looks up at the ceiling, “Guys love me!”

I shake my head and yawn. I finally find her bag, it’s in the bathroom for some reason and when I come back into my room to hand her it, she’s passed out on my bed.

“Y/n!” I shake her a bit but she only slaps my hand away, “You are so close to being in the correct bed! I found your purse.”

Her eyes open slightly, then she rolls over and moans louder, “Shh!” Then she’s out like a light. I hear her soft breathing and rustling around as I give up and sit next to her.

“I’m not sleeping on the couch!” I tell her but I know she’s already asleep.

She looks oddly peaceful. She looks tan and happy, even asleep on my bed. I accept my fate quicker than I probably should have, “Goodnight, then, pretty.” Flipping off the lights and pulling the blanket over her, I slip next to her and push a pillow in between us.

I don’t want her to wake up screaming after all.

I see her outline in the dark, the weight of someone sharing my bed, and the smell of her perfume I know is going to be there tomorrow. I see her, and curse myself.

She really is beautiful.

[obeymestory]

I don't know if you do these, but could you make a scenario of the demon brothers taking care of MC while they're pregnant with their kid?

Of course!! I was kinda waiting for someone to ask me to do one of those things. <3

Warning!!: Slight mature mentions!! Hope you enjoy this though my dear lambs.

✒ Lucifer 🖋

Would be shocked at the first mention of you being pregnant, asking you to take a test to confirm the pregnancy if you hadn't already, then putting his hand on your belly and feeling a huge sense of admiration towards you for carrying his child, as well as a huge sense of responsibility.

Would do his best to make sure you're always comfortable.

Would help you downstairs even when you're just a few weeks along.

Would probably have you near his desk on something comfortable while he does his paperwork so he could be there immediately if your water were to break.

Would think your food cravings were strange but would fetch the food for you immediately.

Always pick things up for you, even if you just dropped something.

Probably be more stressed in the delivery room than you were because of him wanting everything to go smoothly, and because he's worried about you and your guys' baby. "What's taking the doctor so long?" (Referring to the doctor being late, you're the highest priority to him.)

Have Barbatos make you tea every night to help you relax, especially when you start having contractions.

Would rest his hand gently on your belly while you're napping near him, happy to be the father of a new soul.

Probably wouldn't have coitus with you until he knew it was alright, and even then he would make sure to be gentle, resting his hand on your belly while he pleased you, mainly only focusing on your satisfaction.

Be more focused on you to the point where Diavolo or his brothers would have to do some of his paperwork while he took care of you.

When the baby kicks he immediately rests his head gently on your belly, having a small smile on his face as he remembered that he helped make such a lovely being. "I can't wait to meet you."

💰 Mammon 💸

Would think that you were messing with him at first upon telling him about your pregnancy with his child.

Always wanting you not to be too active and to constantly be comfortable.

Would instantly fetch your cravings and not question them.

Would rest his hand on your belly and rub it every now and then when you both were spending quality time together, especially when watching movies.

Would talk to your belly like the baby was able to listen, mostly complaining about how the baby was making you feel during pregnancy. "Why ya' always gotta make yer' mommy throw up, huh? She's doing all this work for ya', so ya' better be a good kid when ya' come out."

Would freak out as soon as you said your water broke, rushing to get you the care and doctors you needed.

Would probably try stacking poker chips on your belly, considering it both quality time for you and your guys' baby.

Would worry about you during contractions, pouting the whole time and asking if he could do something to ease the pain.

If you were to suggest coitus to him, he would accept immediately, then process what you said and ask if it's okay to do while you're pregnant. He'd be rough or gentle for you as long as you and the baby were safe. "Yes! ...Wait- is dat' okay for us to do?"

Would constantly ask if you were okay, and if you weren't he'd comfort you to the best of his abilities.

When having hot and cold flashes he'd probably fan you with a wad of cash or wrap his arms around you to warm you up.

🪼 Leviathan 🍡

Would think that you're pranking him at first as you said that you were pregnant with his baby, then once you confirmed that it wasn't a prank he'd tear up and hug you happily. "Not funny Y/N... you shouldn't joke like that... w-wait... r-really? I'm gonna be a daddy? *sniffles happily*"

Would cuddle you constantly and hum anime intros as he rubbed your belly, picturing showing your guys' baby a bunch of anime as soon as they were born.

If you were to suggest coitus he would be extremely hesitant to agree, and he would only finger you or eat you out.

Would turn on your favorite anime while you were having mood swings.

Would not know what you meant when you said; "my water broke" and would gasp and instantly call out for his brothers to help you as he made you all comfortable. "Hmm..? Your water broke? What does that mean? O-oh... OH!! The baby's coming!! GUYS- THE BABY'S COMING!!!!-"

Would caress your belly as you had contractions, giving you a worried expression.

Would probably suggest names for the baby first, and the names would be based on anime characters you like, not what characters he liked, what characters YOU like.

Would let you play video games when you had more severe mood swings, like extreme anger.

If it came to it, he wouldn't be mad if you ended up accidentally throwing up in his tub-like bed, he'd clean it up and start putting a little trash bag near you so it wouldn't happen again.

Would buy you a whole new bed so you weren't uncomfortable laying in his tub-like bed.

Would gasp as he saw the baby kick, asking if that hurt you or made you uncomfortable.

📚 Satan 🐈‍⬛

Would blink as you told him you were pregnant with his child, he would promptly close his book and blush deeply, still taking a full minute to process what you just said then get up and pull you into a tight yet careful hug. "You have no idea how happy I am."

Would read a bunch of books on human pregnancy, wanting to know how to take care of you during the next nine months.

Would have a good idea on how parenting goes, but would still check out a bunch of books from the library about parenting just in case there was something he didn't know.

Would read you a bedtime story every night, keeping one of his hands on your belly as he read from his book.

If you were to suggest coitus he would agree, having learned that it's beneficial during childbirth, and wanting to satisfy your needs as much as possible, being gentle and sensual the entire time.

Would pick everything up that you were to drop, hold the door open for you, and help you down the stairs without hesitation.

Would suggest healthier foods if you were to ask him to go get certain things you were craving, but would abide by your wishes.

Would already be prepared for you to throw up, keeping a trashcan nearby you at all times.

Would make sure you're laying on your left side whenever you would take a nap or go to bed.

Would put both of his hands on your belly as the baby kicked, being extremely happy, especially if the baby would constantly move, knowing that it meant the baby was healthy. He did feel bad that you were uncomfortable every time the baby moved though.

Would have you in the royal medical room as you reached your last month of pregnancy, wanting to be entirely prepared, and remaining beside you no matter what, even if you were to say that you were fine and he could go do his usual things. "No. I'm not leaving you both whatsoever."

Since he was a straight A student he could just skip school to take care of you.

💄 Asmodeus 💅

Would gasp and widen his eyes, covering his mouth at the revelation of your pregnancy, squeaking happily and kissing you lovingly, immediately suggesting name planning. "Oh my goodness!! We need to start thinking of names!!~"

Would agree to coitus, but would be gentle, he'd also do it as many times as you wanted.

Would massage you every night, especially your breasts since he knew they were producing milk and were gonna be sore soon.

Would wash you in the bath and take care of all your self care needs.

Would hold your hair back carefully as you threw up.

Would shower you with compliments, especially when your belly starts growing in, knowing you might be insecure about yourself due to your body changing but saying that he loved you no matter what. "Oh hon. You're gorgeous... especially your skin. It's so radiant and youthful, I'm so jealous~"

Would whisper sweet nothings and comfort you as you cried or had mood swings.

Would design a HUGE baby shower for you both.

Would paint his and your nails to the color the gender was revealed to be.

Would record a video of the baby kicking, happy tears welling up in his eyes as he replayed the video over and over, asking for your permission to post it on Devilgram.

Would kiss all over your belly and murmur a soft "I love you~" to your belly every night before murmuring the same thing in your ear.

Would help you to the hospital gently and carefully, holding your hand all through labor and giving you little whispers of encouragement the entire time.

💪 Beelzebub 🍔

Would take a whole six minutes to process you telling him that he made you pregnant. "Wait-....Really? We're having a baby?"

Would carry you everywhere and anywhere, no questions asked. The bathroom, downstairs, the kitchen, the delivery room, etc!! (He'd even wake up to help you to the bathroom.)

Would not mind your food cravings, but he's making you eat a bunch of healthy stuff afterwards if your food craving wasn't healthy.

Would watch your belly with sparkles in his eyes as the baby kicked, putting both of his hands on your belly. (It's like that gaze he gives whenever he sees food.)

Would love to go out and buy baby stuff with you, especially baby clothes.

Would place a piece of his meal on your belly, calling it; "Feeding the baby."

If you were to ask to have coitus during your pregnancy, he'd put his hand on your belly and get worried about the baby, needing you to tell him it was good for the baby beforehand, and he'd do it rough or gentle for you, just as long as the baby was okay.

Would pick up everything for you, carrying everything you were attempting to carry, and holding the door open for you if you did convince him that you were okay to walk instead of being carried everywhere by him

Would let you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed during labor, staying beside you no matter what and giving you encouragement just after the doctors do.

Would probably give you hot or cold food when you were having hot or cold flashes. He'd give you cold food when you were hot, then hot food when you were cold.

Would immediately learn to start carrying a vomit bag around for you just in case, rubbing your back as you threw up.

Would get scared at first once your mood swings started happening, feeling guilty until you or one of his brothers reassured him that it was part of pregnancy.

🌌 Belphegor 💤

Would gasp as soon as you said you were pregnant, diving down and resting his head on your belly for a while, nuzzling against your skin and having a dorky lazy smile on his face, knowing you were carrying his baby.

Would definitely join you for naps, offering to massage your chest before he used them as pillows.

Would definitely use your belly as a pillow at one point, listening for movement with his ear pressed against your skin.

Would definitely help you make a nursery, "testing" the baby's bed to make sure the baby would be comfortable. "Hmm? Oh. I'm making sure the bed is okay for our baby. Would you like to join me?"

Will always make sure you're comfortable and laying on your left side when sleeping.

If you were to suggest coitus he would do it very gently, knowing that you were more sensitive now and treating you very delicately.

Would hum or sing soft lullabies to you and the baby to help you fall asleep.

Would probably become more clingy during this time, helping you everywhere and caressing your belly whenever he had the chance.

Wouldn't mind your mood swings, offering his body pillow to punch if you ever got angry to the point where you needed to blow off some steam.

During labor he'd ask Beel to help carry you as he comforted you all the way to the delivery room, caressing your hand as you squeezed his hand for dear life.

Would probably suggest some constellation related names. "Maybe Cygnus? For a boy. Or... Andromeda? For a girl?"

(Hope you enjoyed this!! My ask box is still open, so feel free to ask or send anything!!~)

[takumiraine]

Once Upon A Time chapter 5

<first> <prev> <next>

Jason Todd knew it was only a matter of time until his bubble burst and one of his brothers found out what he was getting up to. He was just hoping he could pull it off for a little longer. Even though the pit still reacted at the strangest times, he felt calmer, more normal, than he had in years. He wanted to hold it close and make sure nobody could take it from him.

From Replacement: you went back to college? Does B know?

Fuck.

—

Danny had been wary at first. Rich boy Jason Todd-Wayne in his college classes. The man was older than Jazz, though not by much, and a freshman with him. Either the guy was a bad influence or Danny just had really shitty luck.

He and the universe both knew the answer to than one really. But 60 bucks a week to reteach the guy basic math and Jason always gave him dinner in the deal? Danny wasn’t going to look that particular gift horse in the mouth. If there was one thing Danny had forgotten during the past almost two years it was how hungry his human side got. Not having money and being on the run meant opportunities to eat were few and far between.

What Danny didn’t expect was how sarcastic and assholish the rich guy could be. He loved trading snark. Danny assumed that it came from them both having older siblings. But between that and the half formed core that was slowly shoring up, Danny found himself growing attached. He had missed having friends. Getting to talk to Sam, Tucker and rarely Jazz through a conspiracy message board wasn’t enough. Most of the time it was just a way to make sure that nobody had been captured by the GIW. They had a way to pass longer messages but to do that too often would be suspicious.

“So I don’t get it,” Danny said, gesturing at Jason with some fries almost a month into tutoring, “What do people actually do at Galas? The tabloid pics just show a bunch of people in uncomfortable looking suits standing around with champagne.”

“….thats really it. It’s boring as shit.” Jason kicked his chair back on two legs, leaning against the wall. “If I liked you less I’d invite you.”

“If you liked me less?”

“Oh yeah. Because then you’d have to meet my brothers, the assorted not quite adopteds, my dad and scarier yet, our butler.” Danny choked on his laugh.

“Your butler is the scary one in that situation?”

“Alfred is like a ghost. Always there when you turn around.” Jason put on the accent “Master Jason, you really must come home more. Nobody quite enjoys my cooking like you.” He let the chair legs settle on the floor. “Now imagine that from behind you in a dark kitchen at two am while you’re half drunk and trying to make a sandwich.”

“Okay, yeah, I could see it being that scary. My sister was….” Shit he hadn’t meant to mention Jazz. “She was the only one who cared sometimes.” May as well rip that bandaid off.

“Yeah?” Jason asked, taking a drink from his coffee cup. “Didn’t know you had a sister.”

“My family and I don’t see each other anymore. It’s for the best.” He hoped Jason wouldn’t ask more questions, because ‘my parents sold me out to the government that only knew where I was because of the Justice League which is why I hate them and by association your dad, and now my sister is in hiding in a different state with a new identity’ was way too difficult to explain. “I left before they could kick me out.”

Danny watched Jason’s face twist into a frown. “Bigots suck. Sorry man.”

“Yeah…. Well…” Danny busied himself with finishing his burger. Then, once he chewed and swallowed. “Wait. Is your dad the one that fell into the champagne tower last year?”

Jason groaned, “he’s not always like that I promise.”

“No I get it. A weird ‘Family Friend’ invited us to his fancy party so he could hit on my mom once. I accidentally on purpose took out the entire buffet table including a cheese fountain so we had to go home.”

“Cheese fountain?”

“You know those chocolate fountains?” Danny asked. Jason nodded. “Like that, but with fondue cheese instead. And before you ask why, all I can say is it was in Wisconsin.”

Jason watched him with an unreadable expression for a moment, and Danny assumed he was processing it, because when the expression broke, Jason was laughing.

He looked so much younger when he laughed like that, and Danny remembered that they had both had, in their own ways, a rough life. “Yeah. I know. I was finding cheese in the weirdest places for weeks.”

“Did you get invited back?” Danny’s heart ached with the fact that a month or so later, Everything Fell Apart.

“No… I…” he cut himself off, remembering the horrified looks his parents gave him as their weapons, the ones he fixed, were turned against the ‘beast’ that ‘possessed’ their son. The looks mimicking the ones they gave him when the party screeched to a halt as he did his best impression of a Scooby Doo villain being unmasked. The screams of shock turning into ones of horror. The -

“-anny? Danny?” He blinked and shook his head.

“What? Oh, sorry.” He took another drink from the coffee, emptying the cup. “No. I never was asked back. You done?” He looked at their empty plates and grabbed the tray. “We should get to the library. Though I’m sure someone as good looking as you has plenty, these x-es won’t find themselves.” He was overcompensating for zoning out now, words coming out faster than normal.

“Yeah… are… you okay?” Jason asked, as Danny bussed their tray and grabbed his backpack, a backpack bought by his tutoring money. A tutoring gig he desperately did not want to fuck up with his own bullshit.

“Me? Fine. More than. I just zone out sometimes. Come on.” Danny’s words were still coming out too fast. He took a few breaths during the couple seconds Jason took getting his things, trying to ground himself as much as possible. He was going to be normal. He was going to be normal if it killed him. Again.

The walk to the library was quiet and Danny was thankful for that. He needed to get his head on straight if he was going to be any help to Jason and he still had his own homework to do after. As they walked in, both Danny and Jason instinctively looked towards the desk where Barbara usually worked, but she wasn’t there, some other guy was checking in books with quiet beeps.

Danny had learned over the last month that while Dick, Tim and Damian were Jason’s official siblings, Barbara was an unofficial one and he liked her the most.

It made sense, since she didn’t seem to pry into Jason’s life the way Jazz would have if she was here. Not that he would have minded her prying for how much he missed her, but four years ago he would have hated it.

—

Jason knew the haunted and hunted look that had settled into Danny’s eyes. The way he trailed off into something vacant. How his breathing seemed to get stuck in his chest. Which is why he tried to interrupt the cycle before he could spiral. Something big happened to him, and Jason knew he wouldn’t want to break down in a cafe in front of people.

Thankfully he seemed to snap out of it quickly, instead overcompensating into energetic. The message was clear. ‘Don’t ask about what just happened.’ Carefully, Jason let Danny lead him into the library, aware of his positioning and making sure not to follow too far behind or loom too much. Considering he had at least six inches on Danny, that last part was hard, but he tried.

He could feel the pit spiraling in him, circling and coiling like a dragon deep in his chest. Itching to do…. Something. It wasn’t punch or claw or fight. This was new. He didn’t like it in the slightest.

He looked over to where Babs usually was, then remembered she had a class, criminal justice degree, how apt, as he and Danny went towards what was now their spot. Jason found he had the sudden impulse to pull Danny’s chair out for him, and shoved that particular useless idea back down into the abyss it belonged in.

—

Danny looked over at Jason who stood at the edge of the table looking…. Angry? Confused? and pulled out his own books. “I promise, my zoning out isn’t contagious.” He said, looking up at Jason and kicking the chair across from him out from under the table for Jason to sit. He gave a wry smile, “if it was, I don’t think anyone in my high school would have made it.”

Jason snorted a laugh, snapping out of whatever thoughts he had been thinking. Jason pulled the chair out further and sat, sitting more comfortably than he used to. More of the true Jason, Danny was realizing, less of the person he was supposed to be. In another lifetime…. But no. He couldn’t… not while he was being hunted. It wouldn’t be fair to Jason to have to hide such a huge part of himself and his past.

Not to mention he hadn’t ever come out to Jazz and his friends. Well he had…. But more in the ‘hey I’m dead but not really’ way and less in the ‘so I like guys’ way.

But in spite of those barriers, this tentative friendship with Jason was enough to keep him happy.

Which made the next kick in the teeth from the universe completely expected.

All he had wanted was to walk home in peace. Sure it was almost midnight, in Gotham, but still. He made it most of the way, and was slinking through the Bowery when it happened.

Guys with dark clothes and weapons were suddenly in front of him. He turned only to see more at his back. There had to be five in total? Or was it six? Danny didn’t have time to count.

“Hey guys.” He hedged, muscles tensing as he raised his hands to show he wasn’t a threat. “Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to get home. Long walk and all that. If I could just…. Scooch past you?” Danny took a step to do just that and the lead goon swung at him with a baton.

He hopped back slightly, dodging the hit when it came. “Not a chance. Boss needs some…. Help with his latest ideas. You’re coming with us.”

Danny ran through his options in his head. Option 1: get kidnapped. Option 2: get the shit kicked out of him. Option 3: beat the shit out of them and get labeled as a possible bat to be or possible rogue to be. Option 4: go fully ghost and either escape unscathed but wind up more firmly on the GIW’s radar.

Option two or three would wind up happening, because he wasn’t going to put himself at the mercy of the Bat-ass again, and he wasn’t going to offer himself up on a silver platter to the GIW.

The moment one tried to grab him, Danny dodged out of the way, and that seemed to bring the goons on him en masse. They seemed well practiced, but considering it was Gotham, there wasn’t a big surprise there. The next few minutes were a flurry of elbows and knees, punches and kicks, batons and clubs.

Danny would dodge and counter, disarm one and fling their weapon across the street. He would have sore ribs and bruises from his elbows to his knuckles come morning but he was slowly winnowing them down. He had a brief thought about the conservation of ninjutsu, as the fewer goons there were the stronger they seemed to get. The realistic answer was they were less concerned with hurting each other when there were fewer of them, he knew that. But everything was more fun with ninjas.

When there were three left, one threw a punch that connected with his nose. There was a pop and crunch and a hot rush of blood down his face even before the pain set in. He spat out the blood that collected in his mouth from the way his head snapped back when he was punched. Another one came at him, and his own years of training caught the guy’s arm, judo throwing them into another look and sending them both careening into a wall. The move was trickier with gravity, but he made it work.

Danny looked up at the last remaining goon. He grinned, teeth too sharp and stained with his own blood, eyes glowing just the faintest green. “Run.”

They did.

Unfortunately for the goon, they ran smack into the chest of one Batman.

[3igbootyl0ver]

who hurt you? [i]

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: Y/N struggles with unspoken feelings for Tara and is shut out when trying to help her after discovering possible abuse from her girlfriend.

word count: 1522

warnings: mentions of abuse, bruises, angst

a/n: hellooo, this is my first time writing in these type of situations (about abuse) so I apologize for any inaccuracy. I'm just kind of experimenting with this fic plus I'm not sure how many parts will it take to complete it. As always, any feedback is appreciated <3

“Let’s go! One more lap!” Coach Melissa’s voice cut through the air, sharp and firm. The team pushed forward, legs aching with every step. Your legs felt like they were made of jelly. With each stride growing heavier than the last, you fought to keep them moving. The fatigue was relentless, creeping up like a shadow, threatening to overtake you. Your muscles screamed in protest, and the rhythmic pounding of your feet on the track seemed to get slower and slower.

The pressure was heavy on you. Being the captain of the Blackmore High soccer team means handling the heavy amount of responsibilities and standards to upkeep. You would be up for the state tournament for the finals in a week, and you were afraid that you were going to disappoint your team and coach, eager to win and experience the triumph of being the champions. It won’t be easy, especially when you’re up against your rival team, Woodsboro High. You have to—no, need to—win against them since it’s your last year in high school, especially when you harbor a deep loathing for their captain, Amber Freeman. Her name wasn’t new to you; she has been dating your friend, Tara.

Tara has been your friend since middle school. You guys were inseparable back then, sharing everything from food to secrets and dreams about the future. Even through all the awkward stages of adolescence, Tara was always by your side, offering a comforting presence when things felt uncertain. You’ll have to admit, you started having feelings for Tara a year ago, noticing her in a way you hadn’t before, captivated by her doe eyes and her personality. The more time you spent together, the harder it became to deny what was growing inside you. You imagined all sorts of scenarios in your head, rehearsing the words over and over, hoping one day you would find the courage to tell her.

But the day never came; your plans to confess your undying love to her were halted and shoved down the dumpster when you found out she started dating Amber six months ago. The universe must’ve hated you; finding out your best friend was in love with someone else the same day you wanted to confess felt like a punch in the gut, a cruel reminder that you had waited too long, that you had kept your feelings hidden for so long that someone else had stepped in.

You ignored and neglected your feelings, pushing them into the corner of your mind, hoping they’d disappear. You couldn't risk ruining your friendship with Tara, especially now. It hurt too much to see her with Amber, but the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward or lose her entirely. Recently, you’ve been noticing her pulling herself away from you. She wouldn’t answer your texts or calls or act like she didn’t see you in the hallways. But you would see her post on her social media, always being with Amber.

It hurt—a deep, sharp ache that seemed to pierce straight through your chest, leaving you breathless. It wasn’t just a passing pang; it was a constant, gnawing pain that lingered, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. Every time you saw Tara with Amber, laughing, holding hands, something inside you twisted painfully, as though a part of you was being slowly ripped away. It felt like your heart was caught in a vice, tightening with every smile Tara gave to Amber, every word she spoke about her. It was the kind of hurt that made it hard to breathe, hard to think, like you were suffocating under the weight of all the words you could never say. You’ve decided to shove your feelings down the drain and focus on getting your grades up before graduating and leading your team for your final year at Blackmore High.

You were walking with your friend Chad, who was also on the soccer team, as the two of you made your way to class. The crisp morning air after the exhilarating and tiring practice made the walk a bit more refreshing, but the weight of everything going on in your mind made it hard to truly enjoy. Chad, as always, was complaining about the harsh punishments he had to do by Coach Melissa, gaining a deep sense of hatred for your coach.

“She’s nuts, man!” Chad ranted, venting his feelings about her absurd method of training. You smiled and nodded along, trying to keep your focus on his words, but your mind kept drifting back to Tara.

Chad glanced over at you, noticing your silence. “Hey, what’s up? You’ve been kinda quiet today. Something on your mind?” He nudged you lightly with his elbow, clearly oblivious to the storm swirling inside you.

“Nothing, man. It’s just... Have you been noticing Tara has been acting distant lately? She hasn’t been to school regularly. Has she been talking to you or Mindy?”

“Oh! That’s what I wanted to ask you about. Mindy found her in the bathroom a few days ago. She said Tara had some bruises around her arms. Tara was trying to cover it up and just shrugged it off, saying she fell down the stairs or something..”

The world seemed to tilt for a moment, and you could feel your breath catch in your throat. Bruises? Tara? No. It couldn’t be. Tara was always so careful, so strong. She wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. Or would she? You could feel a knot tighten in your stomach, and your mind began racing, replaying every interaction you’d had with her recently, trying to make sense of it.

“Tara would never...,” you muttered, almost to yourself, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered. "Are you sure? Maybe she just bumped into something." Chad’s face was serious now, his usual easygoing expression gone. "I don’t know, man. Mindy said it didn’t look like something she could’ve just gotten from falling. And Tara’s been acting a little off lately, like, way more distant than usual."

Your stomach twisted further. Tara had been distant—now that you thought about it, she'd been a little quieter, more closed off, not the same carefree friend you’d known for so long. But bruises? It didn’t add up. “Maybe we should talk to her,” you suggested, your voice betraying the concern building inside. “I mean, if something’s going on... we need to be there for her.”

Chad nodded slowly, looking just as worried. "Yeah. But if Tara's covering it up, you know she’s not gonna want to talk about it. She’s always been like that, right? Stubborn." The silence between you both grew thick, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. You both knew that if something was truly wrong, Tara wouldn’t come forward easily. It was hard to imagine her going through something like that alone, but it seemed like she was. And you, you didn’t know what to do.

One afternoon, you finally made up your mind and talked to her. You couldn’t just sit by and watch anymore. You found her standing by her locker, her head down as she fiddled with her phone, looking like she was on the verge of crying. You almost hesitated, but you knew you had to speak up. “Tara,” you said, your voice tentative as you approached.

She stiffened at the sound of your voice, quickly wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater before glancing up at you with a guarded expression, her posture immediately closing off. “What is it, Y/N?” Her tone was cool, but there was an edge to it, as if she was preparing for a confrontation.

You swallowed, trying to find the right words. “Tara, are you—” you hesitated, unsure what to say. “The bruises... Are you okay?” Tara's face hardened almost instantly. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if trying to protect herself from more than just the physical cold. “I’m fine, okay?” she snapped, her voice sharp. “It’s nothing. Just..personal stuff.”

You took a careful step forward, trying to keep your tone gentle. “Tara, I— Is it Amber?”

“I said I’m fine!” She cut you off, her eyes flashing with frustration. “Why does it matter to you anyway?” Her defensive walls were up, and the more she spoke, the more distant she seemed. You froze, feeling the sting of her words. It wasn’t like Tara to shut people out like this. Your Tara.

“It matters because I care about you. I don’t care if we don’t talk anymore. I’m worried, Tara.” You said, your voice shaking. Tara’s eyes flashed. She didn’t want to hear it. 

“I don’t need anyone’s help; I’m fine.” Without another word, she turned and walked away. You stood there, watching her go, feeling the weight of her defensiveness hanging in the air. The look in her eyes said it all—she wasn’t ready to talk, and she wasn’t about to let anyone in. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just lost your chance to help her, and a part of you wondered if she’d ever let anyone close enough to see the truth.

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

a/n: I hope this is up to standard lol, I won't be promising a next part. I'm not experienced enough to write these type of sensitive topics or just writing in general lol. i know the pacing is a little messed up hehe maybe I should disappear and never write again and delete this account idk

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Thirty

Couple of things - I've been going through it lately and just wanted to get this bit out. I do have more planned but I need a break after this. The Carpenters song referenced is 'all you get from love is a love song' and if you don't know it you can give it a listen and then you'll get the 'broken arm' joke.

They squish together into the phone booth, Steve hitting the numbers almost on reflex now, going through the motions of briefly speaking to Robin’s mom.

He angles the receiver so that Eddie can hear too, their cheeks practically touching, “Steve! Chrissy’s here-”

“Why?” Eddie cuts her off immediately, “not time to close the shop,” he almost sounds a little critical when he says it, making Steve smile.

“I know I know,” Chrissy says, “but he came back!”

“So we waited for him to leave, and we followed him,” Robin adds enthusiastically.

If Steve couldn’t hear for himself that they’re both at Robin’s place, and they’re both absolutely fine, he’d be panicking now, maybe he kind of is, because he’s sort of snippy when he says, “Robin what the fuck, it’s not safe, you two aren’t- you’re not Cagney and Lacy for fucks sake.”

“Steve it’s fine,” Chrissy tells him, “he went to Starcourt, so we went home and called Hopper right away.”

“Good,” Steve breathes a sigh of relief, “okay, so what now?”

“We don’t know,” Robin admits, “we’re just waiting to hear now. See what happens?”

“Okay we could...Eddie, you want to kill some time in town, and we can call again later?”

“Yeah” Eddie pulls back his sleeve to check his princess watch, “...lunch. And shopping?”

“Sure thing baby.”

Chrissy squeaks down the phone, “oh you’re both just too cute together.”

“Oh my god don’t encourage them.”

“Oh!” Chissy starts, “I met El and all the rest of the kids, isn’t she just, so cool? She made some pens float around!”

“El is the fewest bad kid. She’s quiet,” Eddie agrees, but Steve is absolutely certain Eddie’s warmed to the kids a lot over the last couple of months, so he knows Eddie doesn’t really mean it like that.

“Least,” Steve corrects softly, “she’s the least bad. Probably.”

“Best of a bad bunch?” Robin hazards.

“Maybe,” Eddie tells her, “we can come home soon?”

“Errrr…I mean, see what Hopper says, I guess? We might know later, but you guys shouldn’t come back today anyway, it’s a few hours drive, and you’ll need to pack up and everything, right?”

Steve frowns, as Eddie, very briefly, looks sad, “maybe tomorrow,” he says to Eddie more than the girls, “is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, “I...like the flower shop?”

“You miss it?”

“Yes, and Chrissy. Miss them. I know they’re not gone but...they’re not here.”

“Oh Eddie honey, I miss you too, okay? And when you get back you can come into work, there’s stuff to catch up on,” she whispers then, “Robin isn’t good with the flowers like you.”

“Hey! I’m trying my best here-” but she gives up, everyone else laughing over her.

The payphone starts to beep, “we’ll call later okay!”

Steve’s pretty sure Eddie’s jar will be empty again after today. He’s bought four more records, more Led Zeppelin, plus a Dio record because ‘Rainbow in the Dark’ was playing when they walked in and Eddie really liked it. Steve absolutely certain that the girl with a green Mohawk wearing a Dio shirt sealed the deal, but he's not going to tease Eddie about it.

Eddie comes out of the changing room of the second hand clothes store, showing Steve the jeans he’s trying on. He’s been making do all this time with Steve’s draw string sweats and jeans with a very cinched in belt, so it’s definitely time for Eddie to choose his own things but...Steve wasn’t expecting Eddie to choose anything quite so tight.

“Stevie? What do you think?”

Steve swallows thickly before he answers, he swears Eddie’s only getting away with wearing them because his dicks on the inside, the thing would get strangled otherwise, “you look really good Eds. You like those ones?”

“Yes. Black, like my tail. And look,” Eddie scratches at the ripped fabric, his knees on display, “see my knees. I like to see them, they’re new.”

Steve bites his lips briefly to suppress the chuckle, “you should definitely be proud of those knees, you did grow them yourself.”

Steve frowns at the sight of Eddie in a leather jacket; it’s so very far removed from everything he’s been wearing. It’s so different from all of Steve’s clothes, but Steve can’t deny he’s making it work. It definitely suits the look Eddie’s starting to cultivate. He’s very much leaning towards darker colors, and he was really pleased when he turned up a Led Zeppelin tee shirt out of a pile.

The difference between the Eddie that comes out of the dressing room and the Eddie that went in is startling, Steve’s pullovers and polos all tend to be lighter colors, so all the black is very different.

“You like it?”

“I mean, as long as you like it, sure, you’re the one who has to wear it. But yeah, yeah I do like it. You look good.”

Steve has to stand by while Eddie rummages across a tray of cheap jewellery, “they’ll turn your fingers green,” he warns vaguely. Eddie shrugs, probably not understanding what Steve means as he tries things on, he likes the shiny silver ones that definitely are not silver, “you’re such a magpie.”

Eddie chooses two chunky rings that are so cheap he will get change from his last five dollars, but he clearly likes how they look on his fingers; he doesn’t even take them off to pay for them. Steve knows he’s just here to hold the bags, but he doesn’t mind. Eddie’s worked hard for this money, he should spend it on the things he wants.

Steve meanders through the store, it’s mostly second hand furniture and ‘antiques’, but Steve figures that term is being used very, very loosely. As near as Steve can tell it mostly looks like house clearances and that sort of thing. He spends a little while at the glass cabinets, staring at all the little figurines. 'Dust gatherers,' his dad calls them. There’s some tiny little jade ones, big tall porcelain ones and everything in between.

He’s distracted away from them by the sound of twanging. Bad, uneven twanging on an acoustic guitar. Steve follows the sound, finding Eddie just fiddling with the strings, the guitar still lying on it’s back. It doesn’t have a case, and looks pretty beat to hell to Steve, covered in stickers and all scratched up, but Eddie is entertained by the noises, and he looks up, smiling, “you going to buy it?”

Eddie shakes his head, “not enough left.”

“How much are you short?”

Eddie checks his pocket, and then the little label hanging from the neck, “six dollars?” he hazards.

“Okay, well, I’ve got four left on me, so maybe you can haggle the guy down.”

“I’ll try,” Eddie grins big, taking the change from Steve.

They’ve dropped everything off at the car and, with nothing left to do to kill any more time, they head back to the phone and smush into the booth together.

“He wasn’t there when Hopper got there,” Robin tells them, and Steve sighs, disappointed, “but! El looked into my head real quick, and she says he’s called Doctor Owens. She knew who he was, and she says he’s...nice.”

“Nice,” Steve repeats, deadpan, “a man who facilitated experiments on little kids. Nice.”

“Well...I mean maybe as nice as he could be given the circumstances. I got the impression he never...he wasn’t cruel about it. If you know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Steve hazards, “Eddie?”

Next to him, Eddie’s kind of staring into space, frowning, “Owens. Yes. Remember that word, maybe?”

“Okay. Okay, so what are they doing now Robs?”

“Well, Hoppers keeping an eye out and he’s going to try the Motel right now, but if he’s not there he’s going to start doing drive bys of Starcourt and stuff, and hopefully he turns up,” Steve can hear in her voice that she's shrugging, “but Hopper says since no one else is asking any questions, he’s hopeful that it’s just this guy working alone, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah okay.”

Eddie listens to his new record while Steve makes dinner. He has his guitar over his lap, and occasionally plays a note or two. He understood the mechanics of it already, but Steve figures he must have seen someone with a guitar on TV at some point.

Steve’s absorbed in what he’s doing, and doesn’t notice at first that the twanging noises have stopped. The record ends, but it feels like it’s been a long time of quiet, and Steve looks over to find Eddie, expecting him to be flipping it.

He isn’t.

Steve turns off the stove, covering the two pots he’s been carefully nursing. Eddie isn’t in the cabin; Steve finds him on the dock. He’s just...standing there, in the near dark. Just...staring out across the lake.

“Eddie? You okay?”

Eddie looks around again, “heard something. Had to check it’s safe.”

“You could have said,” Steve comes up close, wrapping a hand around Eddie’s hip. Eddie turns in reflexively, looking for a quick, soft kiss, which Steve is happy to give.

“Think the trees look like The Upside Down.”

“Do you?” Steve looks around; all the trees have leaves on, they’re dense and alive and nothing like the dead twisted things that litter The Upside Down, “I don’t think they do.”

Wind moves through the trees, the susurration of leaves is kind of loud, “sounds like bats. Many many bats,” Eddie shifts closer, pressing himself against Steve.

“You okay?”

“I don’t...I think I don’t like it here.”

“Oh...well,” Steve makes a decision, “since they’re pretty sure it’s just the Owens guy, how about we go home tomorrow? I mean, you might not be able to go to work and stuff until they find him-”

“Yes. Home tomorrow.”

Steve looks around again, tries to see it through Eddie’s eyes. Tries to see what reminds him so much of The Upside Down. Maybe the panic attack in the shower knocked some stuff loose; Steve doesn’t know. Eddie’s been making do with strip washing from the bathroom sink the last couple of nights, and that’s been fine but not ideal. Eddie’s hair needs a wash.

“Okay, we’ll call when we go through town, okay, let them know?”

“Yes...take my book back.”

“You finished it?”

“Almost.”

“Lets go inside, I can finish dinner and you can tell me what it’s about?”

“So they’re...stealing treasure from a dragon?” Eddie nods, his mouth full of dinner. “Okay, fair enough.”

Eddie swallows, “I want to read The Lord of The Rings.”

“Okay, I’m sure we can get it at the library.”

“You promise dragons aren’t real?”

“Yup. Definitely not real, and there’s no hobbits or wizards or- or elves or any of that stuff. And magic isn’t real- well. That kind of magic isn’t real, at least,” Eddie frowns like the book committed a crime.

“But...dinosaurs. Dinosaurs were definitely real, you have those in your book?”

“Yes...dragons can fly though. And breathe fire.”

“Well...some dinosaurs could fly, and they were big like a dragon, some of them.”

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes go wide, “I thought from my book like...cow sized?”

“Hu uh,” Eddie excitement is actually palpable, “definitely a dinosaur book next, some of them were like...as tall as trees,” Steve doesn’t actually know, he was most definitely not a dinosaur kid, but he’s pretty sure at least some of them were tall like that.

“All the time, used to do this. When I had a tail,” Eddie’s voice is muffled where he’s bent over the kitchen sink.

“Yeah...I guess I did,” and it’s true, Steve was washing Eddie’s hair pretty much every other day when Eddie still had a tail. He feels the back of Eddie’s head almost reflexively at the memory, following the ghostly, barely there ridges with his fingers through the suds, “it’s getting so long again already.”

“Good. El said Max makes nice braids when it’s long enough.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “oh yeah? That’s going to look great, now eyes and mouth closed, I’m gonna’ rinse.”

Eddie has his head resting on Steve’s tummy while Steve plays with his hair, hand buried in his curls, massaging his scalp, “what you doing baby?”

“Hear.”

“Hear? Oh what, you’re listening?”

“Listening to Stevie’s inside.”

“Anything interesting?”

Eddie nods, his cheek dragging against Steve’s skin, “funny tummy noises. And bumping.”

“Bumping? Oh, beating, my heart right?”

“Yeah. Stevie, we can definitely go home tomorrow?”

“Sure thing babe, we can get packed up in the morning,” Steve yawns, “you want to go to sleep?”

“Maybe. There’s bad dreams here.”

Steve blinks his eyes open to look down, a weird shiver raising goosebumps on his arms, all the way down to where his hand is still buried in Eddie’s hair. Eddie didn’t have to put that quite so creepily. “I think it’s just...maybe it reminds you of things here, so your mind is kind playing tricks on you a little? There’s nothing bad here baby, I promise. What do you think?”

“The water reminds me of Barb.”

Steve frowns, “Barb? How do you know about Barb?” Under Steve’s hand, something crawls unpleasantly beneath Eddie’s skin.

Eddie shrugs, “Nancy told me you killed her.”

“Stevie!” Steve fights, briefly, confused. “Stevie love, it’s okay. Bad dream.”

Steve’s kind of sweaty and panting, but he quickly realizes that it’s Eddie whose holding him, so he quits moving, “Jesus Christ,” he breathes out slowly, trying to calm himself down, “I’m fine. Thanks. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

“You want to tell me? Here, water.” Steve takes the glass, sipping it carefully. He can feel the cool water go down, grounding him.

Steve has no desire whatsoever to talk about it, so he deflects, “what time is it?”

“Five?” Eddie leans over, checking his watch before putting it back, “half five.”

“I miss you saying five and a half, it was cute.”

“I can say five and a half,” Eddie takes the glass again before snuggling in.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. Already awake...bad dreams.”

“Fucking hell. We need to go home just so we can get a good nights sleep. What did you dream about?”

“You. Lost you, in the trees...we were here but...Upside Down trees? I tried and tried to find you. Could hear you, ‘help help,’ really scared.”

“Maybe it is this place,” Steve settles down again, pulling Eddie close, “weird that we’re both having bad dreams right?”

“I don’t like it.”

“No but...lets just rest a little, and then breakfast and we can get packed up, okay?”

“Okay, Stevie love.”

Eddie waits outside the phone booth, leaning against the car where it sits parked by the curb. Steve calls Family Video today, knowing that Robs should be at work, “hey Bird-”

“He got him! Hopper! He got the Owens guy!”

Steve feels himself relax, one less thing to worry about, “good. Good, we’re coming home.”

“Okay, Hopper does think it was just this guy. He was staying at the Motel, Hop had to wait around a bit, like proper stake out!! But he did get him. Said he couldn’t find any evidence of him like, working with other people, and El’s going to talk to him or something. Make sure. I’m not sure about that bit but-”

“Okay, okay, so where is he?”

“Hopper’s got him at the Motel. Probably like, tied up, do you think? Steve what if he’s like, working for the government though. Or or the Russians-”

Steve rubs his forehead, “Birdie, I know you do love some empty speculation-”

“I do!”

“But how about we wait until we actually like, know?”

“Spoil sport.”

They say goodbye and end the call, Steve offering the keys to Eddie, “want to do a little of the driving?”

Eddie grins big, clearly surprised and pleased by the offer, “yes I do!”

“Okay, careful though, you don’t know the roads like at home. And no getting distracted by the cows.”

Eddie ‘moos’ really loudly in response, once in the drivers seat, he pauses for a second, “should have bought tapes,” he laments.

“Well, unlucky, I’m thinking some Carpenters.”

“Nooooo,” Eddie laughs.

“Shut up, I know you love it. Now sing to me about how the best love songs are written with a broken arm.”

“I think that’s what she said! Broken heart makes no sense,” Eddie grumbles, Steve still laughing.

Eddie had caved after two hours of driving, but still, considering all Eddie had done before today is short journeys around Hawkins, Steve figures he did really well in an unfamiliar place, and he told Eddie so. Eddie has turned into a surprisingly careful driver, Steve doesn’t know if it’s his consideration for Steve’s beloved car, or if it’s Steve’s constant reminders that Eddie cannot afford to draw any attention to himself. Either way, Steve feels safe in the passenger seat.

“Okay, I think I should take you home to unpack, then I can figure out how to call Hop and see if I can go over.”

Steve’s not even surprised by Eddie’s response, “both go, you mean.”

“Eddie...I’m not sure it’s-”

“Stevie,” Eddie manages to make it a complete sentence.

“Look...I’m not going to take your choice away, okay, if you want to come, then that’s fine. But...you get I just want you to be safe, right? And I feel like the less this guy knows, the better?”

“I know...I know,” Eddie has his thinking face on, when he’s wrestling with how to say something. It’s been happening a lot less lately, but this concept must be more complicated. “The people had me in a tank. They...hurt me. I was scared. Now...Owens is in the tank? He has to...he has to say why. To me. And sorry.”

“I...is that what you want? For him to apologize? To...explain?”

“Apologize and explain. Yes. And...I will not hurt him. I’m Eddie. I’m not people.”

Steve shouldn’t be surprised, not really. He feels like he knows Eddie inside and out, but his natural compassion, his...kind of innate goodness still blind sides Steve sometimes. Steve had vaguely considered that a realistic outcome of this may be that he’s helping Hopper hide a body. Maybe. It was kind of an abstract thought he hadn’t wanted to poke too hard but, realistically, they’re talking about a man who experimented on children, on Eddie.

Steve is clearly no where near as forgiving.

Hopper meets them both outside the room. Steve has no idea what to expect, really. The rasp of Hopper stubble is loud when he scrubs at his face, “El thinks this Owens guy is legit. He already knows Eddie has,” Hopper gestures vaguely, “human parts.”

“How?”

“After Starcourt happened, he went back to poke about, and he saw you both. More importantly Eddie, driving a car,” Hopper’s words are full of accusation, like ‘see I knew him driving would be trouble.’

Eddie waves a hand dismissively, “I can go in?”

Hopper sighs, but Steve isn’t going to fight Eddie on this. He knows what he wants, and he’s so fucking smart. Steve’s sure Eddie doesn’t fully appreciate the risks, not since he doesn’t get fully grasp how stuff like actual governments work but...yeah. It’s Eddie’s life, but Steve still takes his hand. If they’re doing it, they’re doing it together.

Hopper just sighs and rolls his eyes.

Steve figured that, somehow, this guy would just...look evil. He doesn’t. He looks like a harmless old dude, sitting on the edge of a sagging motel mattress, looking over some papers. He cannot disguise his interest when Eddie walks in.

He’s not restrained or anything, he’s just...there. There are books and pens and folders and shit spread out on the opposite bed, like he’s been working.

“Owens?” Eddie checks.

“Yes. Yes hello it is...so wonderful to see you again. And to hear you speak! How good is your understanding-”

“I think we have questions, first,” Steve cuts him off sharply. He doesn’t seem threatening, just...genuinely pleased to see Eddie. The guy has to be up to something, Steve can’t shake the suspicious thought that the guy must be one hell of an actor.

“Yes. Of course. I have everything, all of my notes, from Starcourt, so any questions you have I will do my best to answer.”

“Okay, where the fuck do you get off experimenting on people?” Steve’s pretty sure his voice is reasonably calm. He’s vaguely aware of Hopper coming in behind them, pulling up a folding chair he must have gotten from his truck.

Owens closes his eyes briefly, before addressing Eddie,“yes. Of course. I am so so sorry for what you were put through but..the work we were doing. I was not fully aware of just how intelligent you were. Are. I didn’t at first fully comprehend that we were even dealing with a sentient specimen-”

“He’s not a specimen, he’s a person,” Steve snaps.

“I am very smart,” Eddie adds helpfully.

“Yes. Yes you are. And the transformation you have undergone is nothing short of miraculous, if I could take some bloods-”

“Absolutely the fuck not. What were you doing with the Russians?”

“Oh,” Owens seems genuinely confused by the question, like it hadn’t really occurred to him, “when the original labs were closed, the funding ended. Of course we were aware of the mirror dimension-”

Eddie looks at Steve, “he means The Upside Down.”

“-Oh, is that what you call it? Well, it was deemed for too dangerous, and not worth the expense, to continue, not after such a catastrophic failure. The Russians however didn’t seem to have any such issues and were interested in opening a gate; I had to go where I could to continue my work, you understand. And then they brought you back with them. What should I call you?”

“Eddie. I’m Eddie.”

“And you’re working? And you’ve learned to speak and drive a car...your ability to process new information is staggering. The physical changes, did they just happen? What was the-”

“Stop, just stop. What do you want with him? Why have you been asking around?”

“Stevie,” Eddie says quietly, pulling Steve back a little by his shirt. And yeah, okay, Steve may have taken a step forward.

“I just...want to continue my studies. Eddie’s change...the differences in his make up, his body’s ability to rewrite itself – it could lead to...well, significant discoveries. The data I could gather, imagine the effect on modern medicine, what we might achieve – the potential to help people could be immeasurable.”

“We could...help people?” Eddie echoes.

“Yes, well. We could try. Like I said I would have to do some tests to understand-”

“No,” Steve crosses his arms over his chest.

Next to him, Eddie asks quietly, “what tests?”

“Just...take some blood, for now. Just try to understand how this happened and...what the changes mean on a genetic level.”

“Look, Eddie, you do not have to do a single thing for this guy, okay? This could be dangerous, they could come and take you away again-”

“I would most certainly like to avoid just that,” Owens interjects.

“Oh yeah, right. Sell me on that then,” Steve snaps at him.

“Look,” Owens spreads his hands, he hasn’t moved from his seat on the bed, “I’m the only one who knows about this. The little contact I’ve had with my previous...employers implies that they’re done with the site, they’ve scrubbed the remains of Starcourt, it’s already being filled in. I only know you even exist because I just happened to see you. No one knows Eddie is alive right now, that he didn’t die in his tank, except for me. If I tell anyone they will take him, potentially back to Russia, and I’ll loose access to him. If I inform the American team, I’ll have to admit that I was working for the Russians, which would cause some obvious fall out for me. This way I can just…continue with my work.”

Steve rubs his eyes. It sounds...legit. He guesses. Logical. “Hopper?”

“El says he’s on the level.”

“Jesus fuck,” Steve huffs, walking in a circle.

“Stevie? I want to help people.”

“I know you do baby.”

“Oh, are you two in a relationship-”

Steve finds himself leaning over to point in Owens face, “do not.”

“Okay, okay,” Owens spreads his hands, “look, I think you need to see this from the other side too. What if Eddie gets sick? What are you going to do, take him to the doctor? And what about El, and her powers? What if something comes up with her? I’m more than happy to-”

“I’m sure you are,” Steve stops him, “and you agree with that Hop?”

“I mean, he’s got a point. Don’t think we could take Eddie to a regular doctor, and El was fine with letting him look her over. I mean I maybe don’t agree with the shit he’s been involved in but...I don’t currently have a lot of choice with getting my kids brain powers looked at.”

“I don’t like it.”

Hopper shrugs, “nope.”

“This is such a bad plan.”

“Not as bad as-”

“Don’t you dare-” Steve starts.

“Letting some fish guy-”

“Hopper!” Eddie adds, affronted.

“Bite your toes off.”

[jam3sacaster]

you are INCREDIBLE!!! ✨ Thank you so much for all the amazing Rupert fics 😍

Could I please request a Rupert & reader fic where they are at a New Year’s Eve party and he can’t take his eyes off her. Before the 10 second countdown he walks towards her to make sure he’s the only one who gets to kiss her

thank you ever so much my DAHHLING 🥰🫶🏽 i’m so glad you like them 🩷 what a smashing idea!!!

“Happy New Year, angel.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader (ft. Lizzie Vereker)

Suggestion by this lovely reader 🥰 / You start the New Year off with a bang, as you encounter Mr Campbell-Black…

18+ FANFIC / Soft Rupert 🥹. Kinda short but hope you love! Reader character aged at 21. 🩷🩷

It was 11:30pm on New Year’s Eve. The residents of Rutshire took it in turns to throw an annual ball and this year was the turn of Rupert Campbell-Black. He had hired a designer to aid him in decorating Penscombe Court and by designer, he of course means Lizzie Vereker. Despite Rupert’s general lack of effort, the ball had an incredible turn out — packed with every resident of Rutshire, both people he hated, and that hated him.

He stood on his own in the corner of the room and surveyed the scene. Drunken couples danced sloppily to the blaring music, and a few stragglers had found their way to the snack bar. A gentle hand placed itself atop Rupert’s shoulder, and snuggled beside him. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around them — it would definitely be an adoring fangirl. “Enjoying yourself?” The small voice peeped from the crook of his arm. Looking down at them, he spied his tawny-haired friend, Lizzie. “Oh hello, darling. Umm… Yes, I suppose. Boring really, isn’t it?” He sighed. “You’re lonely.” She declared, squeezing herself from under her arm and standing in front of him now — frustrated arms crossed. “What? Don’t be silly.” He chuckled without a smile. Lizzie’s accusatory stare burned holes into his skull. She was the only person that could see straight through his Lothario facade. Softening her expression slightly, she took a big gulp from a champagne flute she had quickly nipped from a passing server and informed him, “New Years is the best time to meet people! Everyone’s full of joy and love.”

“Where’s James?” Rupert quizzed her but she took another swig of her champagne and spluttered through the awfully bitter taste. “Oh, God knows. Probably eyeing up any poor woman that looks his way.” But Rupert couldn’t quite hear Lizzie’s response. In fact, he couldn’t quite hear anything at all. Because, there you were. He had seen you. It’s as if everyone else’s faces had been blurred out and someone had turned down the volume on the entire ballroom. Cascading charcoal black locks, tantalising olive-toned skin and heavenly emerald orbs. A floor-length black satin dress hid your silver kitten heels, and was just low-cut enough to show your cleavage. Crimson red lipstick and mascara-coated wispy eyelashes atop silver jewellery completed tonight’s look. Plain and simple, you looked otherworldly.

Walking away from Lizzie mid-sentence, Rupert approached the bar area and poured himself a pint glass of straight gin. Screwing up his face in disgust, he drank the gin in one and straightened the collar of his crisp, white shirt. Cracking his neck from side to side, he exhaled gruffly and strolled into the middle of the room. Every woman, single or not, turned to stare at him. Of course, nothing out of the ordinary there. You, however, were stood in the centre of the ballroom floor, being serenaded at great length to an improvised poem from Patrick O’Hara. Partway through fighting back a yawn, you were barged out of the way — too hard to be intentional — and yelped in shock, champagne sloshing violently out of your glass and seeping instantaneously into the black satin of your dress. “My God, darling. I’m so sorry.” Rupert fretted over you, trying ineffectively to swipe the bitter liquid from your dress. “It’s okay, don’t worry,” You begin, but drink in the man’s appearance before you can continue.

Jet black hair and an incredibly chiselled face. He must be a good few years older than you, but a few years older meant more experience, after all. “Oh my, you must be…”

“Rupert Campbell-Black.” He interjected. “Lovely to meet you, darling.” He spoke as he raised your right hand to his lips, kissing it softly. “Once again, ever so sorry.” He chimes and walks off in the opposite direction, smirking to himself. He had caught you hook, line and sinker already.

-

“10, 9, 8, 7…” The entirety of the ballroom chimed in unison. Rupert was stood beside Lizzie, eyes affixed on the grand clock placed just below the ceiling. You were stood just in front of them, Patrick essentially glued to her side.

“3, 2, 1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Was screamed, followed by the noise of party poppers and blow outs. Rupert watched as Patrick began to pucker his lips towards you. There was absolutely no way he could stand by and watch this. He strode towards you and held the side of your face, intertwining his fingers through your curled hair and planting a soft kiss upon your supple lips. The smell of his oud aftershave filled your lungs and allow you to relax into the kiss. Every fibre of your being wanted this kiss to last for an eternity but, unfortunately, he eventually pulled away.

“Happy New Year, angel.”

[solar4seekstron]

TFA!Soft!Controlling!Blurr x Cybertronian!Femme!Reader Oneshot: Wife

(I’ll do a more wholesome and tooth rotting fluff for our blue speedy boy! Ugh I love him! Why is every mech in this series so fine?!)

TW/Tags: 18+, bit of a dark content, Ultra Magnus basically adopts you, Jazz is your older bro, manipulation, baby trapped, implied dubcon, sort of sad ending.

You were once an archivist. You worked alongside a few bots and femmes. Long before joining the elite guard. You were just a good friend of Ultra Magnus. Your sire was his best friend before dying during the wars against Megatron years ago. In a way he was like an uncle to you.

He has tried many times to ask you to join him. Go to the academy and be a part of his team.

You know he’s doing this to protect you. It was your sires dying wish when the two were in battle together. One day one of his guards Jazz asked you if you’d like to go to a race with him. He thought, maybe you can join him.

Thinking you can leave that dusty and dark library for once. So you agreed.

Jazz was like a brother to you. At time protective when other guys try to flirt with you especially in front of Ultra magnus.

During the race you sat with some energon popcorn as Jazz cheered. Apparently he knew of the racers….. Blurr.

He was good pals with him back in school and although the two separated. They do catch up every now and then..Fun how that’s so how for most people when their own ego gets in the way.

So during the race as you ate your energon you watched as Blurr was on the screen. You’ll end it he’s pretty cute. Talks pretty fast. Adds a lot to his character.

Blurr is soon to claim victory as he cheers on his crowed. Waving to his fans as confetti and music plays. Everyone cheered along with Jazz. As they continued Jazz would then get up and gently grab your cervo. Taking you with him.

You both made your way to where the racers went. Jazz telling you to stay close by.

As you did. A few readers noticed you and even flirting with you. Both femmes, bots, and GN Cybertronians who were in the race.

You’d pay them much mind. It’s one of the reasons why you stayed where you were.

Eventually Jazz pulled you closer and put his arm around your shoulder. It resting as he leaned a bit on your as he smiled at his friend. “Hey Blurr! I want ya to meet Y/N! She’s like my lil sis! So be nice.”

You’d gently elbow his on his side as you chuckled. A smile on both your dermas as you glanced at him. Blurr only watched you for a moment as you and Jazz looked at each other. Things seemed to stop for a moment as he stared at you. Before it returns to not gain suspicion with the other bots around him.

He’d make conversation with you. Jazz staying there with his arm around you. Blurr tried really hard to not smack the shit out of Jazz the whole time.

You giggled a few times at Blurrs jokes and his funny personality as Jazz did the same. Eventually Jazz is called for something and has to step back. “You’ll be alright if I step out?” You’d nod as Jazz then fist bumps Blurr before leaving. Blurr glances at you then smiled.

”Would you like to go out?!” You stared at him as he looked like he was panicking.

The others bots and femmes not paying much attention since the cheering died off after a few hours. You’d just looked at him and just smiled. You’re not completely sure. But you suppose it shouldn’t hurt.

He was fast to grab your cervo and bring you to a corner close to the exits. No one noticing ou as his cervos gently held your arms. You both out of shot.

He would then whisper into your audio sensors. A few of his words making let out of a soft sigh. You’d have a small smile on your dermas as your cervos rests on his shoulders. Him pulling your frame against his as he wraps his x arms around your waist. He’d then speak of a date and time before kissing the side of your neck.

Before you knew it he was gone. Leaving you by the exit and soon Jazz shows up. Blurr telling him you here.

You both would then walk back to Ultra Magnus. You have been meaning to pay him a visit.

———————————————————————————

After a few days it was your and Blurrs date. The date went well. You were a bit nervous since the restaurant was very fancy. You only just lightly polished your armor before making your way there.

The date went…well. Blurr was polite but. Mostly flirtatious. You gave him another shot with a few others dates. One night you thought it wouldn’t hurt to be in his arms, as least for one night. And so…you laid with him…and then you did again.. and again. And again. You always told yourself you were swooned with him. The way he would compliment you and hold you close after each date.

But you would always have this strange and off feeling in this gut as he’d always give you rough kisses and the glances and looks he’d make when others got too close to you or even spoke to you at times.

One night, after another ‘lovely’ date. You were on your back. Blurrs load leaking from your valve after going a few rounds. He was next to you.

His arm supporting himself up as the other was around your waist. You both having a small make out session as both of you let out small moans and sighs. Your cervo moved to press against his chest as you wanted to speak.

You can tell he was a bit annoyed but compliment.

You’d then tell him the important news. “I’m going to the Guards academy. I wish to join Ultra Magnus team.” You said it point blank as Blurr just stared at you.

His smile then returns as he chuckled. “Then I guess I’m joining in the Elites the…”

He’d say with you a grin. Why did that make you nervous…He’d return to place a kiss on your dermas. Your cervos moving to hold the side of his helm as you returned the kiss. But…you held back from making your cervos push him away from you. You’re not really sure why you were going to.

You’d both stay there for a while…until he decided he wished to go another round.

Years went by as you both attended the academy. You still stayed on your birth control. To avoid getting sparked with a sparkling from Blurr. Once you all graduated. Manus was fast to having you join his team. Magnus would accept Blurr but say his place is on the planet unless he calls for him.

Blurr was not too happy about the order.

After some time when finding Optimus and his team. Blurr was aloud to join you and the team to come to earth. Eventually after everything. You and Blurr decided to go on a small vacation. You have been thinking for a good while about your relationship with him.

It’s just…not healthy. So one day as you both were having dinner. You spoke.

”Blurr I’ve been thinking.I It’s just not working out with us. I can’t go anywhere besides work and you always wish to be with me and yet I cant do anything when we go out. And I-“

“Y/N…” You looked at him. He almost seemed sad as he looked at you. A small frown on his dermas as he looked at you. He never looked at you like this before.

”Please…I’ll do better…just…give me a chance! Please! I’ll do better promise!”

His optics pleading for a chance ou’ve always been sympathetic and it wouldn be truly cruel to deny him one….would it? And so you sighed and slowly nod. A smile soon appearing his dermas.

Later that night the two of you watch a movie together. And before you both knew it you both laid together. You just…couldn’t hold yourself back from him. You loved his touch. His kiss. How gentle he can be with you. How he would whisper sweet nothing in your audio sensors as he made you feel special.

But…you forgot your birth control….

Before you knew it.You were with sparkling. You found out when you returned to the ship with Jazz and Ultra Magnus. You can tell Ultra Magnus aand Jazz we’re trying to hold in their excitement since they saw their self as your family.

Ultra Magnus seeing himself as a soon to be grandpa and Jazz as a soon to be uncle. But the whole time…You forced a smile.

After months went by, Ultra Magnus gave the order that you go on leave for some time until you’re better after the birth of your sparkling.

You had a small boy. He was so small but so healthy. Having so much life im his optics and even in his strength as he always made it a point to grab at your digits.

Blurr was over the moon when he held his little sparkling. Gently keeping him resting on his chest as he smiled down at the little sparkling..You could feel it through the spark bond….

Ultra Magnus looked like a proud grandfather when holding the young sparkling.

The little one looking like a mix of your and Blurrs armor. His color palette being similar to yours. But is just as bright as his. Having Blue optics and a large grin whoever he smiles.

Before you knew it…You had two more little sparklings running around. Jazz always visiting when you weren’t at work as the academy’s teacher.

But….Blurr never changes…If not became more controlling. He wanted more sparklings. But you’d always dodge his question or his advances…

Even now..you’re unsure on how much longer you can keep this up. All you ow is… You must keep your little ones safe…No Matter What.

I hope you guys could somewhat enjoy this! I swear I’ll make a more wholesome one for our sweet blue boy. As always a repost is appreciated and please have a good rest of your day!!!!

[lumillsie]

ೃ⁀➷ all my life. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

jon snow x f!arryn!reader headcanons

╰┈➤ in which lady catelyn's niece is brought to winterfell as a ward, and grows to care for her misliked stepson.

a/n : I put jon's birth year as 283 ac, whereas in the show he was born in 281ac - so I struggled a bit on which to choose, but ultimately 283ac suited my outline for the story a bit better. the characters are still aged up as per their show versions. I've also aged down robin arryn, implying that both jon and reader would be in their adolescence during his birth, whereas in the source material, jon is only a few years older than robin.

massive, massive shoutout to @angelseraphines for being my greatest support as always, and I'm not sure if I would've gone ahead and published this if not for her encouragement 🩷

╰┈➤ in 285ac, lord jon arryn and his lady wife lysa welcomed the first of their living children.

╰┈➤ you were a beautiful babe, bright-eyed with a lovely smile, truly the apple of the hand's eye. lord arryn had been married three times in his lifetime, and you were the first of his children to live to term. the graying man was enamored with your newborn-self, and he wished for nothing but your safety and joy.

╰┈➤ for all his love for you, the hand of the king knew how venomous the environment of the royal court to be. the halls were dripping with the schemes of those who wished to advance their positions, and a man of his position knew that the only living child, let alone a girl, of his would be treated as no more than a tool of the court's most cunning.

╰┈➤ your father wished to see you happy and contented, and he wished to keep you safe from the treachery of red keep. and so, on the eve of your sixth nameday, your father wrote to the boy he once fostered in the vale, now a lord paramount in his own right. eddard stark was possibly the only man jon arryn trusted to the same extent he trusted his grace, the king. it was a difficult decision to make, but he was acting in your best interests. life at winterfell would suit his little falcon better, for you would grow strong and you'd be well-looked after. you'd be far away from the glances of power-hungry, lecherous men who wished for nothing but power. you would be with family as well, as the lady catelyn was your mother's only sister - and her children your closest blood. it was a great honour in westeros, to be trusted with the upbringing of one's child, and it was an honour lord arryn would bestow upon lord stark.

╰┈➤ lysa was resistant to the idea of sending away her only living child - the years of losing babe after babe had taken their toll on her, but she eventually relented. you would be safer in winterfell, and catelyn was still her sister - for all the distance between them.

╰┈➤ mere days after lord stark accepted your father's offer, you were sent to winterfell as a ward with a kiss on the forehead from your mother and an unusually tight hug from your father.

╰┈➤ the first couple of weeks were rough - for you were often coddled by your parents. you missed tugging on your mother's skirts and resting in your father's arms. you weren't used to the absence of them, and while you tried not to cause trouble for your caretakers - they could tell you had a hard time adjusting.

╰┈➤ there were two people in winterfell whose presence brought you comfort during that trying time. the first was your aunt, lady catelyn stark, your mother's only sister. you knew little else of winterfell, but you were comforted by the familiar shade of auburn that cascaded down her shoulders and the unique cadence to her voice that could only be ascribed to a woman born of riverrun. she wasn't your mother, but she was the closest to her anyone could get. she sung you lullabies only your mother knew, and the gentle manner in which she treated you was that of a mother towards her child. the second was the boy named after your father, jon snow. you latched onto him early on in your stay in winterfell, and nobody was quite sure as to why. perhaps it was for his name, for you often called for him - at first you were calling for your father, but jon always answered. he was two years your senior and still a boy unsure of his place in his own home - for all the love of his father and the acceptance of his siblings was matched evenly with pointed looks and whispers of bastardy, as well as lady catelyn's cold distance and her decision to ignore his existence the best he could. some would say that it was your insistence on seeking him out that helped reassure the dark-haired boy of his place. of all the nobles and commonfolk at winterfell, you gravitated towards him.

╰┈➤ at first you were content to spend your time with him in silence, and he never appeared opposed to that. within a few weeks, you were talking to him about your life back in the crownlands. you talked about your mother, and her watchful, protecting eyes that seemed to follow you everywhere. you talked about your father, and his insistence on making time for your regardless of how pertinent his responsibilities may have been at any given point. you talked about the king too, and his tales of the valour and glory he experienced side by side with jon's own father. he spoke to you too, of how lovely his father and siblings were, of winterfell's hidden gems and it's most well-known attractions. he promised to take you to the weirwood tree in the godswood when the opportunity arose, and he followed through on his promise. jon snow had become, aside for the lady catelyn whom you'd grown to love as you loved your mother, your dearest person.

╰┈➤ your aunt catelyn was not fond of your budding friendship with the reminder of her husband's indiscretion - that much was plain to see by the harsh manner in which her brows furrowed and frown of her lips, and yet she made no move to disallow it. she could see that his presence helped you get used to your new home, and soon enough you were playing with sansa, teaching arya and bran how to say your name and often fetching robb to speak with him on the way to break your fast. it pleased to see your aunt to see you and her own children bond so quickly, and she kept her dissatisfaction of your bond with jon to herself.

╰┈➤ jon was there for many of the major moments of your life, with the most notable being the first letter you'd written your parents. you had just started learning how to read in the red keep, but lord stark made sure to place you with septa mordane alongside his daughters and he kept an eye on you to make sure your education was advancing. not to mention, lord and lady stark were adamant in ensuring that you remained in touch with your parents - making sure you became literate was the most important factor in that. early on, you would ask jon to re-read your letters before you were to show them to lord stark, and your friend was always glad to do it. the faint red hue that enveloped his cheeks as he read the parts where you mentioned him to your father went unnoticed by you, too focused on making sure that your letter was presentable to lord eddard.

╰┈➤ you remained close through your childhood and closer into adolescence, but it wasn't until one fateful evening that somebody changed between the two of you.

╰┈➤ the letter you received from your parents was unlike any other you had received in the past. the words seemed to swirl on the yellowed paper, and you could feel a headache in coming. your mother had given birth to a son - a proper heir to the vale. you should have felt happy, overjoyed even. a part of you, unfortunately, felt overwhelmed by misery and you could not quite understand why. you were content in winterfell, loved even - and you knew you were never to be heir to begin with, for you were a daughter and your father had plenty of nephews to choose from. so, why did you feel so unhappy? you couldn't quite figure it out, at least not until you spoke to the one person who understood why you felt the way you did, even when you yourself could not.

╰┈➤ you'd skipped supper in favor of spending the evening by the godswood, and truthfully, you expected aunt catelyn to send robb to retrieve you when it was due time for you to return to your chambers. instead, you were surprised to see that jon came for you instead. as you rose from beneath the weirwood tree, red leaves giving way to a darkened sky, you walked side by side with jon towards the great keep. he spoke to you quietly then, of things you never dared ask and he never dared to say outloud. he spoke to you of the mystery of his mother, of wanting to know who she was and if she had wanted him, of wanting to know what kind of person she was. it was only then that the truth of your misery dawned on you. you wished to truly know your parents, and your brother - but you never truly could. for all the letters in the world cannot bring you the closeness of having your family near. robin would know your parents in the ways that you never would, and they would know him in ways that they never knew you. it was a bitter pill to swallow, but you felt as if you could breathe easier - with the realisation clear in your mind.

╰┈➤ you were grateful to jon as well, for his vulnerability with you and for his kindness. you thanked him for walking you back to your chambers, and left a chaste peck on his cheek before retreating. "I am grateful... for you, and all that you are" were the words you spoke to him. a silent acknowledgement hung in the air between the two of you. he was still your dearest friend, and you were his - but something had changed. the way in which you regarded one another had changed.

╰┈➤ it was as if the wall that you two had carefully placed between yourselves had found itself with holes in it. you were still careful, chaste even - but it was apparent to those around you that you two loved eachother. you'd make handkerchiefs for him in your embroidery classes and he'd gently hold onto your hand in the privacy of the godswood.

╰┈➤ none were truly aware of the extent of your affections for one-another, for you were both aware of your positions. you were a noble-man's daughter, entrusted in the care of jon's father who was meant to find you a suitable match and marry you off well. you were considered a bride for theon greyjoy or willas tyrell, but not jon. not a baseborn son of your noble caretaker, with no titles to his name and no inheritance to claim. furthermore, were you to rebel and marry jon without anyone's knowledge - you would soil not only the reputations of your fathers, but the goodwill and bond they shared, for lord arryn entrusted lord stark with your upbringing.

╰┈➤ you two grew closer over the following year, and it was apparent to both of you that you would not have the time to properly court one another before pursuing a way to convince your fathers to allow marriage. you were a woman grown, of marrying age. not to mention, you were lord arryn's only daughter, and a marriage to you was the most effective manner in which a noble house could strengthen its ties to the vale. lord and lady stark, with minor interference from your parents, were close to making their decision - and your aunt made sure to consult you often in subtle manners, asking whether you'd prefer to remain in winterfell when you marry, asking if you'd like to return to the red keep once you are to have a family of your own. you could not avoid your fates any longer.

╰┈➤ you pondered over what to do for a couple of days, but you knew you had no time to wait. without informing jon, you decided to plea your case to your aunt catelyn - the person you'd always felt closest to in winterfell, from the day you arrived to the present. you knew of her mislike for jon, there wasn't a singular person in winterfell who wasn't aware of it - and yet, during all these years, she hadn't said a word to you of your closeness. you asked for an audience with her in the evening, and you told her everything as you sat with your hands in hers atop the fur carpets by the roar of the fire. you confided in her about how precious jon had always been to you, of how you felt the evening of robin's birth and of how you had love for jon in a way a lady should only have love for her husband. your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you spoke to her of how you feared a betrothal, as you didn't think you could bare being married to anyone else. she listened to you as you spoke. when you finished, she leaned down to give you a kiss on the forehead and exited the room. you never got an answer from her.

╰┈➤ lady catelyn's heart ached from the weight of what she had to do. she resented jon, but she could never truly hate him as a person. she feared what his existence, and the way he looked, may mean for her own children but she could never begrudge you for befriending him. this, however, could be disastrous for all of you - and she needed to put a stop to it. she sought jon out the following morning, before it was time for the family to break their fast. she warned him of what his involvement with you could do to your reputation, and of how marrying him would cause you to lose all that you were born with. a woman has little choice in this world but to marry well, and your singular status as lord arryn's only daughter provided you with a privilege not many women could afford - a privilege you would lose were you to marry him. she urged him to put distance between the two of you, if he cared for you as you claimed he did. it was the first time she'd really acknowledged him, and her words stung - perhaps nearly as deep as her resentment and distance once did.

╰┈➤ you were unaware of the fact that this conversation had even taken place to begin with, and jon's insistence on ignoring you came as a shock. you couldn't tell what you had done wrong and you were unsure of how to reason with him.

╰┈➤ it wasn't easy for him to keep his distance from you either, but he took lady catelyn's words to heart. he truly believed that if he kept his distance from you, then you would have an easier time accepting a potential betrothal - as you were always meant to do. now that he was at a distance from you, he was free to confide in robb - and he found comfort in his brother. it was difficult, keeping his feelings from the man he trusted most to begin with and robb's brotherly teasing, as well as his unspoken understanding helped him cope with his decision. for a time at least.

╰┈➤ this tense situation and the distance between you was broken by the most tragic news of your life - your father and the hand of the king, lord jon arryn, had passed away. in addition to your grief, added pressure was placed upon your shoulders as the news of the royal family's impending visit to winterfell reached you. all of this proved to be too much for you, and you crumbled once again, for the first time since your arrival to the north. it was jon whom you turned to once again, and he couldn't find it in him to turn you down. he held you in his arms as you wept, and as you turned to look to him - you made the bold move you'd never dared to make. you leaned upwards and planted a kiss upon his lips, the salty taste of tears staining both of you. he gave in for a split second, before pulling away - remembering lady catelyn's words. "I intend to promise myself to the night's watch. I've already made my father aware of my decision" he confessed to you, his tone gentle yet final. it was then that you asked him why, your voice on the brink of shattering. he spoke to you of his conversation with lady catelyn, and of the steps he took to make sure your reputation wasn't soiled - of the steps he took to make sure you could still have a good life.

╰┈➤ you left him wordlessly then, anger coursing through every inch of your body. you were angry for a multitude of reason - at your father, for sending you to winterfell to begin with. at the world, for taking your father from you before you'd had the chance to see him once more. at your aunt catelyn and jon, for making decisions that concerned you without even thinking to consult you.

╰┈➤ you withdrew to yourself, simply going through the motions as you prepared for the king and his family to arrive at winterfell. you felt no joy at the prospect of seeing him once again, and the thought of his visit served as nothing more than a reminder that you were truly never going to see your father again. you were courteous but curt in all your exchanges, but you exchanged nothing more than pleasantries with all those around you. jon tried to speak with you often, to ensure that you two weren't going to go your separate ways on such poor terms - but he was unsuccessful. you had switched places, with you now ignoring his attempts to speak with you as he had done weeks before.

╰┈➤ the issues between you two and your pointed attempts to ignore him are once again put on hold with all the madness that follows the royal family's visit - bran's accident, your mother's letter to catelyn and the king's offer to lord stark all become topics much more pertinent than jon's upcoming departure and your potential betrothals, and the two of you settle into a peaceful coexistence within the last few days of his stay at winterfell. in truth, as you came to accept your father's death and the unfortunate fate that befell bran, you came to the conclusion that the short time you had with one another was a precious thing, not to be wasted - and you sought him out often, just as you once did.

╰┈➤ the morning he was set to leave for the night's watch, you rose early in the hour of the nightingale- and you sought him out. you walked to the godswood once more, your arm brushing against his. "I believe that I have loved you all my life. I believe that I will love you for the rest of it" you admitted to him as he reached out to grasp your hands in his, a sad smile making its way across your face. "I have loved you all my life, and I will love you for the rest of it" he vowed to you as he leaned down to press his final, gentle kiss upon your lips. you needn't have spoken words of forgiveness or talked much of anything else. you were overcome with a melancholic contentedness in that very moment. jon left his home with his uncle benjen within the next few hours, but he left his heart in winterfell with you.

╰┈➤ that very same evening, you wept in your aunt catelyn's arms. her kiss upon your forehead felt the same as your mother's on the day you last saw her - on the day you left your home behind.

a/n : and that's where I think I'm going to end this! if I ever feel like it, I may revisit jon and arryn!reader later down the line - perhaps with a quick rewrite of season and a happier ending than I gave them here. the original version of this fic is still in my drafts, but I legitimately hated the pacing and the dynamic between jon and reader felt rushed so I rewrote the whole thing - I'm still not fully happy with it, but I much prefer this version and I'm more comfortable publishing it. I hope you enjoy reading this, and please be sure to leave some constructive criticism as I do think there are some parts here that I think can be improved. please do forgive me if the pacing feels slightly off, I struggled quite a bit with this prompt and I legitimately could not write this fic a third time nor expand on it more to try and make it more sensible.

as always, I'm tagging several different characters to help get the post out to as many people as possible, but I do write for all of the characters tagged below so please feel free to request something for them.

[igglemouse]

Monday feels like the perfect day to make pancakes, banana pancakes, to be more specific! Then again, isn't every day perfect for pancakes? There's something about them, maybe it's the scent of them that fills the kitchen with a warmth only associated with morning, maybe its how soft they are and how, coupled with syrup, they just melt and fit perfectly on your tongue and aaaahhh...This new house with its spacious kitchen has brought a spark back into my cooking!

As usual, Pascal makes it over to the table for breakfast, a tradition at this point, but today there is something different. It's his clothing, he's all dressed up, buttoned up, crisp pants, no sweat. Did he miss his morning workout? Is he sick? Injured? I won't press, maybe he's finally realized he pushes himself too hard, no, I have something else on my mind.

"I was thinking about our last convo," I start hesitantly, ignoring the temptation of my pancakes for a moment. "It might be a sooner rather than later kind of thing." I'm surprised to say it because the thought of having another baby feels overwhelming. I mean, my Watcher, it's a lot to go though. Does it get better the second time? Am I really ready to submit my body through that again?

"Oh, Frida," he says just before taking another bite of his pancake. "I see that look in your eyes," he teases.

"What?!"

"That look!" he teases again, a grin growing on his face. "All you have to do is ask!" Oh, that's what he means. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks already.

"Pascal, I'm serious!" I shoot back because I am! This is a serious subject! "I just mean...if Flora is to have a little brother or sister, shouldn't they be close in age?" That's better for them, right? Allows them to bond a little better, I would think but I think by now Pascal is thinking more about the practice of making babies than the end result of it.

"Mmmhmm, they should..." See?

"Look! Ugh, nevermind!" I huff, giving up and waving away the now corrupted conversation we were having. "Do you even like your pancakes? You've barely touched them," I add, trying my best to steer it away from him and his morning wood.

"Oh, yeah," ugh, that grin is back on his face, I can't help but giggle. "No condoms moving forward then, right?"

"Pascal!" I blurt out with my fork clanking against the plate.

Alright alright, I wouldn't admit it at the table but I'll admit it to you now. I'd like another. Maybe just one more! My little Flora can't be an only child, she seems to enjoy attention a little too much but isn't that just all babies? They need so much love! Still, two feels right.

But for now, the rain is going to keep me inside which gives me a perfect chance at just sitting down and working on my socials. This is what I do now. Promote my social media, push my videos, and just try to grow my audience little by little. My first video does alright, nothing amazing or viral but a solid debut. It gives me enough hope to continue and to maybe think that there might be a future here for me with this. At least I won't have to worry about some old man trying to ruin my business.

And yes, I do spend some time working out because, I can't help but worry about my weight. I know I shouldn't, it's completely normal to add weight after creating a complete human being, but the thoughts creep into my head anyway. I just worry about Pascal out there playing a road game in some faraway city and at some night club before a pair of boobs gets put into his face and...yeah, let's end that thought right there. I want to look my best, not just for him, but for me too!

But maybe I've pushed myself too hard today because now I've broken out in a rash! Red little splotches all over my arms and legs and just everywhere! Not a good look. I don't imagine this is attractive but thankfully there's medicine for it.

By the way, I called Anthony. Or at least I tried. I'm not sure why but I felt like he should at least know. He'll never meet her, that I'm sure of, but I don't know, I feel like my grandparents, my mama, you know, people I've never known, would tell me that I should. It's fair for him to know. Just to know. It feels like if I don't tell him it'll be something I'll feel slightly guilty about for the rest of my life. If what Candela said is true, he saved my life, whether he meant to or not, so he should know that I'm doing well.

But the joke was on me, he wasn't available. A guard or someone, don't know, answers instead and asked if I wanted to pass along a message and in that moment I froze. I told him never mind and he told me times in which Anthony had phone privileges if I wanted to call back. I don't think I will now. The moment has passed. Maybe its just fate that he'll know.

Back to happier things, like making dinner for my new familia or at least trying to. Pascal made it a little harder because he walks right into my kitchen in nothing but his swim trunks which is incredibly distracting. I pause mid chop just to stare, wondering what he was up to and then figuring this is probably the continuation of our conversation from this morning. He's trying to tempt me! I can't help but chuckle because its both cute and endearing.

"Mi querido, what are you wearing?" I challenge, rising an eyebrow as he turns to face me which only makes it worse because I've always been a fan of his body and suddenly I'm reminded why I did fall for him. His goofy charm and his smile!

"My swimwear!" he announces with pride. "We do have a little pool and I wanted to check it out!"

"Must you walk around in it?"

"I think you should walk around in yours a little more!" He fires back with the cheesiest wink I've ever seen in my life, it brings a reluctant smile to my own face.

"I-I don't know! I'm still a little hefty, I might not even fit my old stuff. Maybe a one piece or something like-"

"I'd love you all in one piece!"

Ah well...well, we will eat dinner first and maybe we'll see about that later.

But unfortunately, after our dinner, little Flora had her own demands which naturally comes before my own desires. So, instead of spending some intimate time with Pascal I was called to feed her and change her diaper and just play with her and let her know that she is loved! Just the things a mama must do!

But while Frida was attending to the needs of little Florencia, Pascal was attending to his. Every day his Social Bunny account would light up with interest, messages from a variety of different women, all thirsty for his attention. They knew he wasn't single and knew he was a father, but for some, that made him all the more enticing.

Usually, Pascal ignored them, thinking of them more as annoyances and distractions, but one in particular stood out to him. Sofia Prats, a model and aspiring actress located in Del Sol Valley. She was a striking beauty with dark hair that seemed to contrast perfectly with pearlescent skin and a full smile that sat perfectly before observant eyes. She carried herself with a bold kind of confidence, a woman who was used to getting her way. She had sent him a few messages, wondering if they could meet. Pascal didn't answer, not yet at least, but he did spend some time scrolling through her Simstagram feed and enjoying her pictures...

Frida Varela - Next Episode 9.3

[tarnishedxknight]

Noah, having more or less sent Drace away with the promise that they would be attending lunch shortly, was puttering in his kitchen nook, getting some water and trying to wake himself up as he usually did. A smile tugged at his lips when he heard Larsa's half-awake comment. "Your mentors... expect you to lunch within the hour," Noah said with a firm tone but still one that was laced with humor if the person listening knew him well enough. "Drace is already on her way there. We should dress soon and make our way to the commons."

As Larsa apologized for getting disoriented, Noah turned more serious, and perhaps a bit pensive. "It is alright, young lord. It has happened to me on many an occasion as well. It will take our minds time to adjust, I'm sure." He drank the water, feeling the Mist affecting his head particularly vigorously this day. He already had the beginnings of a headache behind his eyes and at his temples, and he knew from the mere feel of it that the glow in his amber eyes would be noticeable today. Sometimes it was, sometimes it wasn't. Today, it was.

Once they were dressed, cleaned up a bit, and situated, they left Noah's quarters and made their way to the common kitchen. Drace gave a smile when she saw Noah and Larsa enter the room. "Good morning, my lord."

"We already said good morning to each other a while ago, but if you want to reinforce it- Oh, you meant the kid," Tony said by way of a joke.

Drace looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes, completely unimpressed. "You are no lord," she said flatly.

Basch and Ashe watched this conversation from afar, thus far only sipping at teacups and not having actually ventured to make themselves lunch yet. "It is mid-afternoon, not morning," Ashelia mumbled into her teacup. Basch smiled softly but said nothing. For his princess, "morning" was just before sunrise, he knew, not after the clock struck twelve. He loved how possessive of the sun and its morning light she was sometimes, as if she properly gave it the appreciation and respect it deserved and everyone else was, well, slacking off.

When Larsa addressed him as "Lord," Tony turned and threw Drace an I told you so expression. "See? He gets it," he said, before giving Larsa his attention.

Drace released a partial groan and turned back to her salad.

"You are? What ails you, little man?" Tony asked.

"Perhaps that it best discussed in private," Noah said firmly, glancing at Basch and Ashelia.

"Okay. Yeah. Sure. After lunch, I can take you down to the med bay. Great people there, you'll like them," Tony said.

Natasha came in to microwave a burrito, cordially greeting everyone present.

"Are you poaching on my burritos again?" Tony asked.

"You buy them by the crate. I think there's enough for everyone," Nat replied with a smirk as she very defiantly pressed "start" on the microwave.

"That is not the point," Tony said.

"You know the rules. You didn't write you name on 'em," Nat said unapologetically.

"Wow. You see what I put up with?" he said generally to no one in particular. But then, because he was feeling friendly, he turned to Larsa again, as Noah ushered the boy over to the cabinets and refrigerator to choose something to eat. "So, how's it feel to be reunited with your dad?"

Ashelia fumbled her teacup, spilling some of the tea onto the table. Drace choked on her salad, lifting a napkin to her lips as her eyes went wide. Basch's brow furrowed and he looked to Noah, his own eyes beginning to widen. Noah... looked at Tony murderously.

"Tony, what the hell?" Nat said, incredulous that he would just blurt something like that out.

"What?" Tony asked, truly not understanding. "It's not like they don't already know." He looked at Larsa, the boy's stunned expression saying otherwise. "Right?" He looked at Noah, seeing the rage building in the man's glowing gaze. "Right?"

"Oh, my god..." Nat mumbled disappointedly under her breath as she shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Aw, shit," Tony then said, realizing he had just made the announcement of the century, apparently. Or... of the past five millennia, rather.

"Larsa is your son?!" Ashelia blurted out. She looked at Basch, utterly blown away by this news. "That would make him your nephew!"

Basch's heart was pounding, but as much as he, too, wanted an explanation and was terribly curious in addition to shocked, he knew now was not the time. "Princess..." he whispered, trying to get her to be quiet, for now at least.

"You are... not helping, right now," Tony said, pointing at Ashelia.

"Keep your mouth shut from now on, Stark," Noah said, seething. His own heart was ready to leap from his chest. The Mist was loving this, building inside him and rendering him lightheaded.

"What he meant was... Is it not good to be back with those with whom you are familiar?" Drace tried, but unfortunately, the damage had already been done.

Larsa did not expect to be unfrozen at all, let alone in the future. When he had snuck upon Gabranth's ship set for Pharos he did it to ensure the peace would be possible. The last thing he remembered was running towards fallen Gabranth and then... Light. (Marvel AU) - tarnishedxjudgement

@tarnishedxjudgement

Noah didn't have the same abilities and resources in this time period with which to inform himself of anything and everything that was going on around him. He was in the dark, most of the time, unless directly informed of things, a condition he hated. Being at the mercy of others he neither knew nor trusted for information was not a position he usually found himself in.

It was the reason he hadn't known about Drace being found after him until she was brought one day to the training compound. Inexplicably, after executing her in his own timeline, here she was again, seemingly from another. The entire experience was wholly jarring, but not nearly as jarring as losing his only son.

So often had Noah thought of Larsa in the months following his revival in this strange time. Thoughts invaded his peace, his sleep, his ability to function, until he found himself so erratic and unhinged that he did not recognize himself anymore. Even Drace found it difficult to comfort him, and she had always been a master of that feat. There was no closure to be had, no second chances, no going back... and that knowledge was eating Noah alive from the inside out.

But once again, information had been kept from him, and yet another arrival from Ivalice to the Avengers compound was neither expected nor necessarily wanted. Would it be another Dalmascan? Gods forbid a Rozarrian. And the way the people of this time seemed to think that all Ivalicians got along and would be happy to see each other was beyond irritating to him. Nevertheless, when he was specifically summoned to greet this newcomer, Noah begrudgingly left his quarters to do so.

What he saw... stopped him dead in his tracks. Within seconds, his expression betrayed him, and within a few more, he was on his knees, his legs giving way in disbelief of the sight that lay before him. It was little Lord Larsa, looking just as he did when last Noah laid eyes on him, perfect as can be.

He knew he should say something, but words betrayed him as well as his own legs had. Instead, he merely stared, the absence of his helm serving to display to the boy all the shock, confusion, and relief at seeing him standing there. Finally, he forced out the only two words he felt he could say without falling apart.

"My lord..."

[zombiesthetic]

THOMAS HEWITT WITH A PLUS SIZE S/O . . .

pairing . . . thomas hewitt x plus size!fem reader

warnings . . . hoyt ( he needs his own warning ) , no insecurities or self doubt but mentions of having "bad days" because let's be real, we all have those days.

comments , likes , and reposts are appreciated !

★ let us be real for a moment. thomas would 100% love a woman who has some meat on her bones. someone he doesn't have to treat like fine china.

★ you have curves? he's running his hands over them.

★ you have hip dips? perfect place for him to put his hands.

★ you have nice, soft, plush thighs? it's a perfect place for him to rest his head after a long day of hunting and killing.

★ you have a soft stomach? another amazing place for him to rest his head. it's like his own personal pillow and he loves it.

★ oh. and don't ever let this man see you in a dress. your curves, your soft stomach, your wide hips, your full breasts that threaten to spill out of the top and sides, oh dear lord. it takes everything in him not to stop what he's doing, throw you over his shoulder, and take you to the basement to do ungodly things that luda mae would definitely not approve of.

★ luda mae would definitely talk to him about you having nice "birthing hips". it would confuse the hell out of him. how did she know you had nice birthing hips just by looking at them? but once that idea was planted in his head . . . it's game over.

★ he loves it when you sit in his lap. the feeling of your weight being on him makes his head go fuzzy. ad you better believe that if you don't put your full weight on him, he's tugging you down til you're fully seated.

★ he just loves you. he loves every single thing about you.

★ he loves you even when you have your bad days. you know the days where you don't feel your best? he's right by your side and in his own way, he's telling you he loves everything about you. sure, there's a huge conversation barrier, but you know what he's trying to say.

★ if hoyt even dares to make a snide comment, thomas is locked and loaded, ready to take his brother/uncle down to the basement to butcher him.

★ after a close encounter with tommy's chainsaw, hoyt never said anything again. at least not when tommy could hear him.

★ but all it takes is for you to threaten to tell tommy and hoyt is shutting his mouth. that man really doesn't want to become a victim.

★ when it comes to cuddling, tommy likes to be little spoon. nothing you say can change my mind.

★ after a long day of killing and butchering, all he wants is to lay down on top of you with his head buried in your chest while you run your hand though his dark curls.

★ he's so used to be forced to "be a man" by hoyt, he likes that he doesn't have to be a big macho man when he's with you.

★ of course, he'll put on a "i run this relationship" act in front of hoyt, but when it's just you two. man, is this boy whipped. you tell him to do something, it'll be done within the hour. and of course, it's the other way around too.

★ in the beginning you had to sit him down and tell him that relationships don't have an "owner" and a "pet" like hoyt had always told him.

★ because of hoyt's constant talk of how relationships are "supposed to be", tommy didn't really want to be in a relationship. he didn't like the idea of having to "own" someone.

★ but after you had a nice sit down conversation with him, he liked the idea of being in a 50/50 relationship. you respect and love him and he respects and loves you.

★ in reality, you had to teach tommy a lot of things. but the good thing is . . . tommy is a very fast learner. in more ways than one. *wink* *wink*

★ tommy is really good with his hands. no, not in that way. get your head out of the gutter.

★ if you liked a piece of jewelry one of the victims were wearing but it didn't fit you, tommy would craft it to fit you. you mentioned a ring you liked, but it was a few sizes too small? this man is cutting the band and making it adjustable.

★ you like a necklace but it doesn't quite fit your neck how you want it too? he's stealing a chain from another victim and adding it to the necklace so it'll fit you.

★ you liked a piece of clothing but it's too small? this man is cleaning his sewing machine and creating an entire new piece of clothing with you. ( after he has luda mae get the blood stains out because that woman is scarily good at getting blood stains out of things. )

★ his love language is acts of service and gift giving, obviously.

★ he likes doing things for you and he really loves giving you things.

★ after he's done working in the barn, during his walk back to the house, if he sees a flower that sprouted in the yard, he'll grab it and give it to you.

CREDITS . . . divider by @cafekitsune

MASTERLIST

[melaniepilled]

the storyline is brilliant. (most) characters are well-developed. the animation is gorgeous. the soundtrack, though a bit on the nose, is pretty cool. HOWEVER:

what's with the copaganda? like come on, lesbian cop? all those corny scenes trying to make the viewer empathise with this cop or that cop? i dont need to see the poor fate of a cop's daughter to know cops are human beings with loved ones. that's nowhere near the point. it's disrespectful as hell to pair scenes of, idk, a cop's suffering with a zaunite's suffering to be like: we're all the same, guys! no, you're not 😭

all that shit with marcus was so annoying like they want us to think he had some noble motive for his corruption. lmao? like, sure, at the end his kid's life was threatened by silco but what about before those five minutes? didn't he team up with silco of his own accord for YEARS?

idk, man, i think the showmakers could've made the point of "silco threatened this cop into doing this woo scary" without all that corny sad music and 1000 scenes of poor helpless enforcer marcus. I DON'T CARE omfg.

now back to the lesbian cop. GIRL was that necessary? seriously, the best queer rep you can imagine is a female cop? argh. ew. be for real.

any way, who even is caitlyn kirraman? noble girl felt caged by noble expectations blah blah blah overused trope blah blah. she wanted to 'see' the real world and the best she could do was join the Brutal Oppression Force to get some hands-on action in harming the real world? huh?

on one hand, i can believe an almost-princess wouldn't know the reality of this oppression but man. come on. it's so cliche. sheltered rich kid joins a police or police-adjacent service with pure intentions only to learn the service is only at the disposal of the elite? jeez, never heard that one before.

AND she could have been mildly tolerated is she wasn't so intent on throwing her power and status around. and for what? pumping the undercity with toxic gas to faciliate her witch hunt?

annoying. negative rizz. could have done way better. every time caitlyn kirraman appears on screen i have to stifle a groan of frustration.

and what's with the uniform? the rest of the character designs were so good you can almost forget it's arcane League of Legends and then there's ... this.

anyways, i want to complain about one more character before i can move on to other things.

this mf. he's so blank. no personality. switches his motives every episode. i don't even think he's meant to be a real character. what's his deal? characterless mf sorry i dont even have anything to say forget it

overall, the way arcane tries to equate the harm done by this or that zaunite to the harm done by topside is ... suspicious, to say the least. i DO think zaunites have a right to take up arms against topside and i feel no sympathy for poor helpless enforcers or noble councillors. womp womp

anyhoo. on to the good shit. arcane is like 20% action and 80% political intrigue and if i had known that i would have watched it ages ago. nevertheless, all the side characters and sub-plots are highly entertaining and if not for them arcane would be nothing.

characters i liked!

jinx and vi are ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ that's sisterhood for ya.

viktor my man. he was sexier when he was dying.

ekko my cutie patootie

silco is a weirdo and an edgelord that being said he is pretty interesting

sevika. so hot. answer my calls sevika please

let's talk about my fav girl now

MEL MEDARDA. soft-hearted girlboss fighting her warmongering mother. do i think she's selfish and does not care about her 'people' as much as she says? yes. but she does have principles. also, i have no idea what her sub-plot is going to lead to. it's cool. she's cool. love to see a beautiful girl suffer xoxo

that's all i will say for now. this post is already super duper long. i havent even talked about jinx and vi. meow. bbye.